Ain't my line, but I love it, on an existential level of some sort.
Has all the moisture from the endless fucking rain seeped into my brain when I wasn't looking?
I even took a freaking shower and all because I thought the endless endless fucking ENDLESS rain had at long last come to a halt.
Sort of like Dylan said, I have been Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again for 3 days now.
This is no laughing matter.
With one leg into my Levis, I suddenly hear the machine-gun rat-a-tat-tat of the ENDLESS FUCKING RAIN ONCE AGAIN BEATING BEATING BEATING on the corrugated metal that passes for a roof around here.
It dawns on me that the only solace I will likely find - due to Fe experiencing her femininity at the moment - is to jerk off ferociously and often until the downpour stops.
In between rubbing my Johnson raw, I will happily read the book I managed to ferret out of the VFW library by one of my favorite guys - VACHSS. Take a look at his Burke series - massive literary satisfaction guaranteed.
I know, I know, I ain't gonna fucking melt.
But I'm gonna get wet.
And go into joints often got the air con turned to Polar-Bear-Happiness levels...swell, just what my over-extended-already immune system needs, double pneumonia.
Oh well, I'm gonna crank up the Big Mama Thornton...
