Cheese wheel of life

Recently I was in San Francisco redefining society's conservative definition of romance, when I was confronted with the "suggestion" to take a guided tour of China Town through the very regal and cultured hostel we were staying at.  I begrudgingly accepted because I wanted more sex that night (yes my mind works that way).  All I could think about was how each second wasted in China Town I could be touring the beautiful Jelly Belly factory.

Then the guide showed up.  Straight out of Beetlejuice.  Leather lace-up boots to his knees, medieval blazer, and a bleached mohawk.  I was being led around SF by a citizen of Sleepy Hollow.  Here he is in all his glory:



"Californians are crap brick builders"

I learned more from this amazing man then I had learned in all of CEGEP.  He bombed us with facts (true facts, I might add) about religion, history, and even a little nutrition.  He wooed us with his linguistic talents, his soft voice, and cultural savoir-faire.  He was my my somber-looking pal after our tour was through because I couldn't believe the show he put on.  This chap made my day, and I didn't even want to give this tour a chance.  Jump in that wheel of life even if the cheese isn't being hung just out of reach, jump in and run your tits off.

I learned a good lesson that day in San Francisco: always say yes for sex.