2005-07-15 - 8:00 p.m.
CLAY BLOGGED AGAIN!
WE'RE GETTING INTO A RHYTHM NOW!
You may know that I blogged last night for the first time in nearly a week, and how sweet was that of Clay to let me finish before he blogged himself? But now that he has....oops! I did it again. Man, he's good. Here's a little something I wrote to commemorate his goodness and his second blog entry....
Oh, this Clay guy is good. Reeeeeal good.
Last week, his “subliminal messages” weren’t all that subtle. He typed the word COCK, people! COCK! I never even type that word. Well, I did just now, but I never did before. Or maybe I have and just don’t want to admit it. Can I just plead the Clay on this one? Like on Primetime Live? “I’ve typed it. I don’t type it.”
And you know what else? I don’t say it either. And it’s not just because I tend to use the word DICK, although that’s one reason. It’s just not a word that’s easy to bring up in polite conversation. I do use “cocky” quite a bit, so I guess I’ve uttered those letters in sequence on an occasion or two…but I’m getting off-track here. I’ve said COCK, I don’t say it.
You know who else doesn’t say the word COCK? Professional photographers. I know I haven’t had my photo taken nearly as often as Clay has, but I’ve never had one tell me to “cock my head.” They’ve told me to TILT it, or TIP it, or occasionally to LEAN a certain direction. But no photographer has ever used the word COCK in my presence. I’m sure I would have remembered it and probably asked him for his phone number.
But that was only the most obvious of his subliminal messages last week. He also put the word “JOB” in quotation marks. I’ve done that too. I’ve also bolded it, italicized it, and linked it. I like the word JOB. It’s an awesome multi-purpose word. See, you can sound like you’re saying something important or industrious, when you’re really just thinking about putting Clay’s cock in either your hand or your mouth. (See what he’s started? I’ve already made a liar out of myself!)
Then, he wrote this whole bit about changing his clothes again and again, and oh goodness, sometimes they’re so horribly tight, and did I remember to mention how big my feet are? He is such a little shit. GAH! I love him.
This week, he’s finally learned what subtle really means. Yes, the messages are there, if you know what to look for. If you haven’t yet found the hidden messages of sexual longing in Clay’s latest blog entry, I’m here to help you out.
Clay didn’t use words with double meanings this week; instead, he used his words to create visuals. I’ve read a lot of responses to his Blog entry, and it seems like a lot of folks like the romantic aspect of sunsets (doesn’t the sun RISE over the Atlantic?) and horses on the beach. Oh, how nice. It must have been soooo relaxing. (Don’t even get me started on some of those replies. If I read once more about how much WE love him or how much WE’RE looking forward to seeing him this summer, I’m going to retch.)
Well, what’s so relaxing about trying to get two big SUVs through 1000 tons of sand? He spent nearly half his entry talking about cars getting stuck in the sand! And trying to get them unstuck! Are you seeing what I’m seeing?
Clay working up a sweat!
Exerting muscles he never knew he had!
Maybe even swearing under his breath!
And at least one time really loudly!
He probably threw off that Burberry bucket hat in a moment of supreme frustration and concentration as he leaned into the side of the SUV with those long, gorgeous, inseam-busting thighs and pushed, pushed, PUSHED. Back and forth over the sand. FORTY FREAKIN MINUTES of our man going forward and backward, forward and backward, in an amazing physical effort to build up sufficient speed and momentum to finally reach his goal, and climax in spectacular fashion over the crest of that dune. He may have done a little Tarzan yell. Oh my god. He may have even taken his shirt off outside.
Whatever he did, even the horses were impressed with what they saw.
Yes, that brings up another one of his not-so-subliminal messages. Horses. No, not just horses, WILD horses. Does he just want to remind us of how he’s hung? Or is he trying to imply that we’ll never be able to tame him? Personally, I think he just wants us all to imagine mounting and riding him. Yeah, Clay, I’ve been doing that for over two years now, but it’s nice to know you’re okay with it.
And when he talks about sitting on the back porch and looking out to the beach and the horses, does anybody else imagine him, um, mentally comparing himself to the horses, “Bigger than him, bigger than him, about the same as that guy, nope, that one must be a girl, bigger than him, whoa! that guy’s huge!....”
I don’t know if everybody is as weird as me and my family, but whenever we go for a holiday and see the same people every day, we always give them nicknames so we can talk about them behind their backs more efficiently. Yappy Dog Lady. Farmer Tom. SmellsLikeMint. Gumboots. Pit Stains. We haven’t really had any holidays near wild animals before, except the aforementioned yappy dog, or I'm sure we would have named them too. I wonder if Clay and his friends started to come up with names for some of the horses they began to recognize? I wonder if he named one “Clay....?”
I love that man. I love that he speaks to us in such a friendly and familiar manner. I really, really love that I can always find the sooper sekrit hidden messages that he’s directed to special fans like me. And yes, Clay, I also see that you had to drag your sweet little ass to the ends of the earth in order to have some privacy as some of your fans have traveled nearly as far in their efforts to hunt you down. I’m not one of those fans. No, I’m the fan who imagines that sweet little ass getting just a tad sunburned when its owner decided to sunbathe in the nude for five whole minutes just so he could check that item off his list of “Things to do before I die.” I think it’s right after “Bungee Jumping” and right before “Join the Mile High Club.”
*sigh*
I hope I’m on his list of “Things to do before I die.”
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