04/18/01

I tried to get sex this morning but was shot down without much explanation. I told Phebe right after that I wanted my guns out of Stash Skimington’s house. I told her I wanted them given over to Percy for safekeeping. She just started laughing. What, Percy gonna take up shooting little furry animals now in addition to playing cricket and tea drinking? I filled up with jealous anger all of a sudden. I just sort of went back in time to when we were teenagers fucking in the hay. I was on top of Phebe’s sister prematurely ejaculating with my noodle barely wet while Stash Skimington continued to pound himself noisily into Phebe like he could stay at it for a week. I always thought I liked Phebe’s sister better. Vera was always prettier than Phebe and had bigger tits, but when I finally had my chance to pork her, my mind somehow got all caught up in how Phebe was being taken care of nearby bent over the hay bale. All I wanted to do was pork Phebe after that. That’s all I could think about. Shouldn’t have written all that. Fucking pornography! The guns go to Percy’s, that’s all there is to it! Then I’ll go over there to see Stash then! Phebe says with attitude. I don’t want that fucker putting his mitts on anything that belongs to me! So then I go to Swami’s place on Montgomery Street to dig. I’m down about 4 feet in the hole and what do I dig out? A fucking antique Victorian Era dildo made out of carved ivory. Fucking thing’s almost a foot long! Swami announced he was utterly and completely astonished: A splendid most unexpected discovery of a lingam! How much do you think it’s worth? Oh, my, to the right person, this could be priceless! We had cricket practice later in the day. Fauntleroy seemed down in the dumps. He said Betty’s family came into his apartment while he was away and cleaned him out of most of his belongings. You could tell he’s having a tough time right now. Percy really didn’t need me to talk to him about letting Percy run the show. Fauntleroy didn’t seem to want to be there today really. I got home Phebe had Cinnamon Girl playing on the stereo. That’s the call for business of course, but I was nervous. Thought maybe I’d find Phebe bent over the coffee table with Stash Skimington pounding his meat into her again. But no, she was alone waiting for me plenty ready to go. It all ended like that time with her sister, though. It sucked. Where the hell is my Viagra---the splendid most unexpected discovery of a lingam! The pillow talk sucked too: There’s a guy writing about us, you know, on the internet, Phebe says. Stash told me about him today. He used to play in a band with Phil. He’s writing a blog about Phil’s disappearance. He identifies you as Phil’s ‘brother/cousin’ and me as your ‘wife/cousin’ and Phil as my ‘nephew/cousin’. He thinks we’re concealing knowledge about what happened to Phil. He really needs to be stopped!