feminista

I had a sex dream last night.
I had sex with Death.
I remembered to get a condom.
Which is weird.
Since I don't use condoms in real life.
Well.
Not in a year.
It was neon green.
Death was good.
Very good.
He trapped me in a closet.
And bit my arm.
And I decided we should have sex.
So that's what we did.
After I got the condom.
But to get the condom I had to go to my downstairs bathroom.
And there was a black family eating at my dinner table.
I had sex with Death.
Death didn't look like the grim reaper.
He was just a guy.
Sort of like the V for Vendetta guy.
Except no mask.


This is all my cervix's fault for not letting me have sex last night when I wanted to.
My wanting to kill her and my wanting for sex combined into some fucked up dream.

mmm.