I watched the “Wizard of Oz” last night for the first time in twenty years, and I loved the Wicked Witch of the West because her skin was GrEEN the way it should be! Not all pale and white like today’s practioners of “BitChCraft,” or whatever it is. I can jerk off to both, I guess, but I found an old-style, creepy, mean-spirited variety of witch refreshing as I watched it. I wonder what it would have been like to lick that witch’s green vagina? I’ve been thinking about that all morning. . . .
As punishment for not buying a single X-mas gift again this year, I received a visit from the "Ghost Of Christmas AIDS Janitors" yesterday. This porn-store janitor from one of our company’s other stores down-state, was on vacation so he came to our store to visit. He wanted to “check out” one of the company’s other stores and I’m like, HUH ? What kind of person does this? All our company’s stores have different names and different looks, but it is still like, “Here’s a spank-mag; here’s a gay cocksucker; here’s a masturbator and here’s a drop of cum on the floor,” so C’MON!!! Who would do this sort of thing on their vacation? Go around checking out other stores in the franchise just for the fun of it, to meet other employees in the company, especially if you’re just a fucking JANITOR?!!! I mean, it’s like a three hour drive this guy made!!!
And this guy comes in all full of “Christmas Cheer,” even though he is HIV +. He comes in wearing a fucking SANTA CLAUS HAT !!! Not only a Santa Claus hat, but a fucking three-pronged one, like a court jester. He is all skinny and sickly-looking, in his 40’s and leather-faced from years of hard drinking with fucking ACNE scars (probably from the AIDS) on his face too, wearing a faded blue denim jacket with that tacky fake white “sheep wool” looking crap on the collar and cuffs. My boss introduces me to him and I have to shake his AIDS hand, dude. My boss says, “Yeah, Brian here has to scrub dried cum off the walls in Edinburgh just like you do here,” like I’m supposed to feel a BOND with this guy because we have similar jobs. I’m thinking, “Great,” you know, “what a fucking loser,” as I give him a guided tour of the store. I dunno, I guess he is just some lonely guy without a life. He’s been with the company for 20 years; his boyfriend died of AIDS about a year ago, and he just came to our store, on vacation and bored out of his mind.
My boss decides to leave early so I’m stuck with this guy all by myself. He just stands by the counter talking to me about this and that while he’s thumbing through a gay magazine for TWO FUCKING hours! I start feeling creeped out, like this dude thinks I’m a lot like him, or something, that I am some drunken AIDS mother-fucker just like he is because I mop up and scrub cum, and that he is waiting for me to get off work so he can suck my fucking AIDS cock and we can both cum and cry together, or whatever. He probably even had an extra Santa Claus hat in his car he fantasized about me wearing. The guy is driving me crazy, starts asking me personal questions as I start wondering, “What does an AIDS cock look like?” I start panicking. I let this guy “get” to me, I guess, because we do have similar jobs , so I go into the bathroom and “whip it out,” you know, take out my dick and start FEELING it, squeezing it and examining it for scabs and sores or gray blemishes of sickening AIDS (I mean I knew my dick was okay, of course, because I play with it constantly) or GrEEn like the face of the Wicked Witch of the West I suddenly imagine in the toilet bowl, cackling and saying to me, “I’ll get you, my pretty! And your gorgeous cock too!
