Risky Business

Okay, so I went batshit crazy last week.

About a week and a day ago.

By one week ago today, thanks to the cardio versus muscle days, I know I was almost totally fucking gone.

What suffered? Let’s see… too much to list right now. I might do little post-marriage counseling thingies, but I don’t know yet. Haven’t decided.

But this blog definitely suffered.

Driving home, passing the bus stop, I noticed there weren’t any cute girls. Which got me thinking about having sex with a cute girl on a bus. Which got me thinking about having sex with a cute girl on a train. Which got me thinking about having sex with a specific beautiful young woman on a train. Which got me thinking about Risky Business.

Warner Bros is making a big deal with their Warner Archive DVD series, but they haven’t discussed whether they’re going to do anything really interesting–like the director’s cut of Wyatt Earp or the director’s cut of Risky Business.

See, has this specific beautiful woman seen Risky Business? Not really for her generation–I’m pretty sure the M1 is from that generation where Tom Cruise was no longer popular. Though I’m not a 100% on it, I’m pretty sure.

Well, can she see Risky Business? Sure, she can rent it.

Can she see the director’s cut of Risky Business? No.

Because Warner didn’t include the director’s cut of Risky Business, didn’t do streaming, just slapped the director’s cut ending (the rest of the film is Brickman’s) on the recent special edition disc. Want to make a director’s cut? Have to do it yourself, like I did.

It’s not just not being able to recommend it to M1–my douchebag best friend can’t even see it and he’d love it. I mean, I could go through the trouble of sending him a copy, I could easily make a copy available for her to download (but won’t because I’d rather she watch the other movie I recommended)… but then, driving home, still thinking about all this malarky, I realized I might have encoded it while my Elgato Turbo.264… which does an ass job. Not an ass job, but nothing something I’d want a permanent copy of a film in.

So I can’t decide if I want to check… or just pretend it’s fine since I won’t watch Risky Business again for at least nine months (douchebag best friend is coming to AWP… if he bookends it with some extra, non-drunken stupor visit time, we might watch it). M1 is, oddly, also invited to AWP, so if we timed things right, she too could see the Risky Business director’s cut. But I don’t think she’s coming out for AWP. I’m psychic about these things. Just like Warner Archive is never going to give me my nice anamorphic Wyatt Earp Director’s Cut… M1 is sitting AWP out next year.

Other douchey non-DVD releases… oh, there’s only one, starring everyone’s favorite anti-semitic bigot Mel Gibson. I recently had a discussion about him with a gay friend–yes, Mel Gibson is a piece of shit. Total piece of shit. Good movie star. Ransom rocks. Need the director’s cut. The theatrical cut is lame. But that’s a Disney thing, unrelated to Warner.

Or AWP.

Or Risky Business.

Or my douchebag best friend.

Or M1.

Or the bus stop.

Or the drive home.

I really missed this fucking blog.

Preoccupied

Woke up with a hard-on, put on gym clothes with a hard-on, drove to the gym with a hard-on. Thankfully it deflated before I went in wouldn’t want the Billy Crudup-looking dude the wife thinks is so cute thinking it was for him.
Had to crank one out before I fell asleep last night. Way too turned on. Wife’ll be in trouble once her period’s over. She’s been helping out a lot but she has no idea…
I am a little worried I might have been too blunt in a tweet to the Mysterious One.
Can’t wait for another day of an eight hour erection….

Someone’s going to notice

I’m a little terrified someone’s going to notice my constant hard-on today. (I blame it entirely on the mischevious one). Yesterday, I had the day off so it didn’t matter. Hell, the wife even helped out with it twice–once for the 3:30 wake-up I had with one (I wish her spring break lasted a month instead of a week).

But today I’ve got to go to work and regardless if coworker2 knows I have a big dong–she got the wife’s memo, but didn’t get to see the laminated photo (I’m actually investigating getting my wife postcards with a picture of my cock on them–really–as a gag gift)–coworker2 isn’t even there this week. And I don’t want coworker1 noticing the constant boner because she’d probably say something (not suggestive, but along the lines of, “Why the hell do you have a boner?”). Coworker3–I really wouldn’t want her to see–but her office is out of view from where I’m usually moving around.

This is going to be very, very interesting.

A parachute

Luckily for me… the mischevious one’s powers can offset exhaustion. Raging again.

Tumbling down Mt Everest

In the movie Summer School, there’s a conversation about men’s sexual peaks. The 17-year-old tells the 35-year-old he’s at his peak and doesn’t want to waste it by going to school. The 35-year-old tells him it’s a wonderful ride.
I never thought my sex drive would ever diminish. Only jobs and classes have ever really gotten in the way.
It’s occurring to me that might not be all though. Like you wear a cap 24/7/365 then take it off after two years to find you’re bald.
I think my sex drive took a hit while I was too busy to notice. I mean, I had an omnipresent erection today, with one twitter friend after another revving it up–unintentionally, I’m sure… well, there’s one mischevious one….
But one outburst later and I’m ready for bed. Hope I’m just tired.