Finger-licking good

(The following is a revised version of an entry posted three years ago. Happy Friday.)

One of the most peculiar things about “pastor chasing” is the fact that you have no idea (and no real control) over what’s going to pop into your head while you’re doing the deed. sure, you might begin the festivities with the thought of your girlfriend or Roxy Reynolds or the bespectacled big booty Applebee’s waitress you met last week, but your Id takes over once you get into the zone. And, as we all know, our Id’s are on crack. Sometimes the “pop-ins” are understandable (“Damn. I need to go to Caribana again“). Sometimes they’re intriguing (“Wow. Who knew my subconscious had a thing for Jill Marie Jones?“). Sometimes they’re bizarre (“Elastigirl?? Well, she did have a fat ass. and she’s flexible“), and sometimes they’re…well… …sometimes Annie the Chicken Queen – the woman from the Popeye’s Chicken commercials – pops into your head wearing nothing but an apron and bucket of butterfly shrimp, and, well, sometimes that just happens.

Because its Friday and I’ve already provided enough TMI this week, I won’t go into the myriad sexual, racial, and psychological undertones present with me fantasizing about a lascivious middle-aged cajun chicken-leg lady. But, I will say that this is a perfect example of the cringe-worthy fantasy–what happens when we find ourselves reluctantly sexually attracted to someone (whether it’s an elderly neighbor, a member of the Dipset, or Wanda Sykes) for reasons we can’t (and don’t want to) understand or explain.

Anyway, you’ve already heard enough from me. People of vsb.com, who are your cringe-worthy, “i’ll die before i tell someone i’m actually seriously attracted to this motherf*cka“, fantasies?

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)