Everybody needs a red headed stepchild

Kitty Kat has my deepest affection and adoration at this point. I bow to her selective greatness at the latest and greatest tendril of blogmeat she dropped into my inbox.

It seems she's hit my g-spot and assigned me Cast Upon the Thorns - The thoughts, reflections, rants, and text-based carnage of a porn star clerk - My heart is all a-flutter. I want to say that she's making up for not giving me The Meltdown Assigment, but I'm fairly convinced it was the dead kitten I left on her doorstep.

Let's prepare for a blog dive by blasting some Lords of Acid and get into this guy's mind for a moment, shall we? Alright, you're a porn store clerk with insightful attitude and a knack for feeling up your customers... Or is it feeling out? You would almost think the the man is a martyr if you skimmed the blog but didn't soak in the content a bit for yourself to understand it. Put simply he exudes every emotion and frustration that we all do, only he works in an industry that puts extra flair in his rants. He doesn't carry-on in lengthy discussions about shit, and he certainly doesn't give a crap about speaking his mind - Gold Star material. He's a guy, talking like a guy, that's fed up with bullshit and people. AWESOME.

Plus! Every once and awhile he leaves beautiful descripts that make me yearn to make sweet love to this man by the river on a mid-summers day:

"But you have not come to hear me twist words together in gruesome and disturbing coils of disillusionment. If you wanted dark maundering pap, you’d have Peter Murphy spiked to your wall hooked to an IV of absinthe and sodium pentothal."

Okay, the making love made me puke in my mouth a little, but the qoute turned me on.

Honestly, ever wanted to know what thoughts go behind the counter at your Adult Entertainment store? I sure as fuck do! Especially when my gag ball has been bit through and I need to stock up on lubricant for my girlfriends anal plug... And my clitoral stimlator attachment for that strap-on. But I digress....
So many times I've wondered, as I've graced the shadows of my toy store, exactly what the man is thinking as he's ringing up my mish-mosh of items. Now I know, and for all I know he could be that man.

His template is BTOD and it follows the KISS rule. For that I give it a

I don't know why people get so uptight about this simplistic format - I find it pleasing to the eye. Further, what is this guy supposed to do? Litter it with camel toe and oiled barely legals? I could see him tossing off, err, up (on the sidebar) a strange abstract piece of black and white that casts an emphasis on his personality perhaps for a "spruce up"... But his commentary I feel is enough decorum to entertain this simplistic pervert for a lifetime.

And a I like the way he says bloody, and I want to reach over his counter for many days to come.

But a for not sticking his neck out sooner! Now I have a lot of archiving to dive through!!!