Lay In Bed Thinking

I lay in bed and thought about Amy and Ben, and Amy, and what it was meant to be, next Saturday night. The thought of Ben made me kind of hot, and my hand slid down under the covers. Dirty Josh.

But, Amy? I didn't know about Amy? Wouldn't that feel kind of weird? And my hand appeared out from under the bed clothes.

I didn’t know what to think? Yeah, sure, Amy has an ulterior motive, to find out if her boyfriend is gay, then being able to move forward with the knowledge that she will never have a happily ever after with him.

(Oh, just as an aside, did I just assumed Amy would find out Ben is gay? Hmmm?)

Yeah, sure, Amy, happy to help. But, where does that leave me?

Maybe, I am just over thinking the whole thing? Just be relaxed Josh, go with the flow Josh.

There was a joint in the ash tray on the floor next to my bed, I spied. I picked it up and lit it. I lay back and blew the smoke towards the ceiling in a cloud of blue smoke.

I whacked off quick, I thought that may take some of the subjectivity out of it and leave me objective? Nyr? I got up and made myself scrambled eggs and coffee. I read the newspaper.

I went jogging.

I called my mum.

I called Steve.

Then I came home and farted about on my computer. What the hell would we do without computers? What the hell did the human race do with itself before computers? I ask you?