Nov 6, 2006



So, I'm driving along this AM, the sun roof open and tunes playing, enjoying an actually nice morning. I often forget I'm in a car that people can actually see me, making a fool of myself and wiggling my ass in the seat to the music. I was just belting out this song,"Black Velvet," by Alanah Miles with all the emphasis, I'd do if on stage, singing away at a red light. I was knee deep in traffic and I kinda got down with the beat and flicked my head, when out of the corner of my eye, I see a guy watching me with a big grin on his face. I burst out laughing and was thankful the light turned green. It kinda smacked me back into Babs reality and outa days gone by with the band. Then Barry White came on. He was singing," Oh baby we've been making love for two hours and still going strong..." I started thinking about more days gone by and my train of thought was pretty dirty and unmentionable there for a minute. But then I slapped myself back into the real world and thought,"Who in the hell, in their right mind would really wanna screw for two hours?" Now, I don't know who came up with this lovemaking for hours thing, like your standard is set that if you're really in love, that's what you do.But right here, right now, I'm challenging that premise.
I made whoopie in every position known to man AND beast. I am, or was considered double jointed. I used to be able to put both feet behind my head which you never tell a guy you can do on the first date. After that, it's Pretzel City every frigin time. But in all due reality, even in a missionary position, after your legs are hiked up for hours, it becomes rather uncomfortable.

Now, I wanna know who really fucks and fucks and fucks for hours, uprooting trees, shrubs and flowers?

Even with
my last boyfriend, I had to show him, folding my legs on my chest, which he was totally turned on by. Why do I gotta show off and act like I'm 25 still? Every single time after that he wants to put me in a human pretzel position. Oh it'd start off all fun and games, innocent fat slapping and the next thing ya know he's got me flipped over with my legs crossed over my chest in a position that takes me a day to work outa my muscles. And I sure as hell can't imagine doing that for hours, holy S & M Batman. Nope, it's official, Babs is retired as a Contortionist and if you wanna screw me, bring some fritos and dip and I'll lay there, on my back and snack while you just go to town.

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