It's 4:30AM. I leave for the bus to the airport in roughly two hours. I've spent the last several hours shooting condoms, whips, canes, general sex toys, and fruit.
This is turning out to be a great way to start the trip. I've already handled several condoms of different flavors, and I must reiterate how much I dislike the feel of lubrication. This is true of my hands, at least. There is still a black bag of S&M toys on the carpet near where I sleep, and ironically. The bag is nondescript and, ironically, unintrusive. In a few minutes I will open this bag and photograph its contents, paying careful attention not to touch the anal beads.
Oh, it's all for a reason. And yes, I am still a normal human being, with two exceptions: I'm working on a deadline, and I'm shooting for the sex issue, that is, issue number two of the Daily Bruin Prime magazine. It'll be out sometime early February. My shot is on the cover.
The Washington trip will be something to look forward to, and I'm already sufficiently wired. I look forward to a good nap on the plane, getting off somewhere in the middle of the barren tundra that is Spokane and somehow getting to Pullman. There, I will weedle my way into the stadium, hope I bought my memory cards, and shoot two to three hours of basketball. The only thing that can stop me is the imminent snow blizzard. If you do not read another entry from me, I am either huddled in the corner of this room, feverishly awaiting the men dressed in white lab coats with the nets, or frozen solid in the snow somewhere in Pullman. To be honest, I'd much prefer to end up with the first option, because at least people would know where to find me. No one knows where Pullman is.
As the good Robert Frost says, I have miles to go before I sleep, miles to go before I sleep.
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