Sunday, May 10, 2015

David Cameron

I dreamt that I was kissing David Cameron. I was sitting in his lap, well, I guess, I was straddling his lap and kissing him passionately. 

His lips were moist, wet, as he kissed me. We were face to face, nothing separating our faces. He kissed like he wanted to kiss, he kissed like he really liked it. I kissed him back. There was some unspoken understanding that he was cheating on his wife. He didn’t seem to care, he didn’t hold back.

It woke me up, with a start. 

Well, not in a terrible way, either, but at 6am, I opened my eyes gently and gazed around my bedroom as the light began to seep into the room and thought to myself, Well, how about that?

I'm really not sure where that came from, oh, except for the English election, of course. But I've never thought that before... no, I haven't. I'm sorry David, but I still don't think about you that way.


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