“Sex Life of Robots” | Michael Sullivan (Photo credit: ceslava.com)
There is a book, perhaps you’ve
heard of it, that says if you are having trouble in your marriage
You should have sex everyday for 30 days. Without exception. You can’t be to busy, or to tired or to I’m thinking of divorcing this scumbag so I don’t want to fuck him…none of those things is an excuse. Everyday. Thirty days.
Now in those 30 days of sex bootcamp, there has to be some days where the sex is phenomenal; quivering , undulating flesh, orgasms that make you forget your own middle name, and that remind you why you married this person.
Contradictory to that are other days. Days when sex with this man or woman make you feel like…well like you are being forced to have sex everyday. Days when all you want to do is watch Himym and finally ,for the love of God ,know who this woman is! And the sex is , kind of, blah.
I said that, and I’m apologizing in advance, because that is what I’m doing with my blog. Follow through is NOT my strong suit. If it were, you would hear people say things like ” did you read Brie Stoll’s last book?” Because that’s what I was born to do.
So for 30 days I’ll write. Sick, well, hung over, sad, happy, busy ,broke or whatever , I will write.
Some days you may read and think, that was good. Somedays you may read and think that’s awesome. Somedays you may read and think, not even close. That’s what the apology earlier was for.
I promise to try to bring you to a literary orgasm everyday . There will be days when you are already looking for the remote and wondering if there’s a nice juicy nurse Betty on somewhere. But I promise to do my level best to have as many days possible of “yes, yes, right there, oh, oh…I love you”… In the literary sense.
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