SOFT, WET & FUZZY WUZZIKINS

I JUST SLEEP SO MUCH BETTER KNOWING MY ASS IS PROTECTED FROM CRUELTY

After the GONZO jamboree it's easy to see how the pendulum could swing back the other way and those in the skin trades might get the idea that in this kindler and gentler future maybe there doesn't exist a population for whom getting off is not complete without spinning cockpole from asspot to mouth immediately prior to delivering a coconut oil facial to a crippled aging woman with rickets.

Yeah yeah. And in this wonderful, magical mystical universe we all enjoy erotica and take deathly serious all forms of discussion regarding the female form and its inviolability. We absolutely revel in the mythologizing of the WOMAN because after all she's so much better than her muscled and manly counterpart.

And THEN they wake up to find coffee beans lodged up their nostrils and the prevailing truth that as humans we all suck shit and are only afforded as much respect as we deserve. Which is: none at all.

But until that moment comes....skip, skip, skip your troubles away in a pre-Hefnerian idyll where pretty teens gently and tentatively take sugar-spice-n-everything-nice loads down sensitive gullets while Carole King's Tapestries plays off in the clove-cigarette-scented background.

It makes us want to cry. And be gay.

Like forever.