Ode to a Grecian Hand

As you return to Booble and Goldstein’s G-Spot think of me as your beacon in fog or bacon on the grill. Feel free to check my gauges and oil. Is there enough air in my tires or are they flat again? I am on this screen so as to stifle your scream in this existential world we all live in. You and I are both halves of Siamese twins looking to reunite. Pussy, pussy everywhere and not a one welcomes you.

You are still Jonah in the whale’s mouth. You are the asp who bit and killed Cleopatra. You are the butane in my lighter fluid. I wish you had lead in your pencil because you don’t even have a cock. You are all this and less. Because the only thing you can count on is your hand. Although lately when you try to masturbate your hand is falling asleep, it is still the best friction you will ever get. Unlike the women and female gerbils in your life your own hand has never gone through your pocket and stolen money or taken custody of your children, bad-mouthed your personality or sought to exploit you.

Has a hand ever sued its owner for everything he has? Your hand does appreciate its extensions being polished during a manicure and it will bear your meat lovingly especially if you immerse your dick in a lubricant. Crisco is my first choice. The reason you seek these porno sites and the illusion that porn offers is that your choices are so limited. Women, dates and pick-ups will betray but your hand (unless you are an amputee) will bring you off and you don’t even have to wash your balls or shave your grubby face. The way you have cheated in past relationships is tantamount to wearing gloves. In other words don’t cheat on your hand and your hand won’t cheat on you.