A young friend and I had a conversation last evening while writing and noshing on the best pie in the city. He said that he wanted to enter a deepthroating contest that evening and a party he was attending, but that he couldn't manage his gag reflex. I said, "Ah, it's easy. As soon as you figure out that the gag reflex is in your head and not your throat, you'll be fine. Just let yourself realize that you CAN breathe when you want to, and visualize yourself opening, and you'll be fine."
I was writing this afternoon, tucked in bed with my new niftospifto MacBook and my phone rang. It wasn't Trident so I was surprised, because other than Tri and my sister, folks text, they don't call. It was the heretofore mentioned young friend so excited I could barely make out his words. He asked me if I could guess who won the deep-throating contest last evening. "No kidding?" How big was the dude?"
"Ah, it wasn't a dude, it was a dildo."
"Bummer. Well, how big was the dildo?"
"Fourteen inches. I managed nine and a half."
"Jeezus, honey, that's pretty fabulous. What did you win?"
"The dildo!"
Life. Gotta freakin' love it.
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