I am going to DIIIE before I get laid. I dreamt I had some sort of fan prize date thing with Tom. In a tux. (Not. Okay. Subconscious. JFC.) Then… THEN… Some kind of militia assholes show up. Tom rips off his motherfucking tux, tears off the SLEEVES of his shirt and then he goes all out Jonathan Pine meets Conrad and I’m watching the ARMS BULGE and the JAW CLENCH as he, unarmed, beat the utter shit out of the scary guys and then I don’t remember what because… maybe my deeeeepest lizard brain decided no sex dreams for me yet. Then I awake to a goddamn husband-hard-on snuggling into my ass and I swear to FUCK I’m going to die of sex starvation. Also HAHAHAHA I was worried about my libido HAHAHAHA. No power on EARTH can conquer the Woman in Her Forties Sex Thirst. I may sleep with an ice pack in my unders.