You would think that writing a paper would keep me occupied but I'm still looking for more things to distract myself. I hate waiting and feeling useless.
Anyways did you know James Joyce wrote really dirty love letters to his girlfriend/wife, Nora Barnacle. If you don't believe me, ask the dishes:
My love for you allows me to pray to the
spirit of eternal beauty and tenderness
mirrored in your eyes or to fling you down
under me on that soft belly of yours and fuck
you up behind, like a hog riding a sow,
glorying in the very stink and sweat that rises
from your arse, glorying in the open shame
of your upturned dress and white girlish
drawers and in the confusion of your
flushed cheeks and tangled hair.
Trust me, I didn't write that erotic shit myself. Now I've never been into Joyce (you know, because I'm illiterate) but damn that man was dirty.