Emerging Markets 04.10.03
My eyes dart back in forth in search of targets. I lick my lips in anticipation, prepare my hottest breath. I'm on a mission to set these blasted thermometers right even if I have to give them one-on-one love.
Meanwhile, as I look for thermometers I "didn't mean to turn on" like Robert Palmer:
Gully has his mind on the smoke ban and the smoke ban on his mind;
Haylz is recounting classic tales of yore;
Pixel is having waking dreams and drooling on her shoe tops;
New Top is straying from her rap career and trying to lay back.
That's one I can help with. Laying back, being easy. If there is a master of lay back, it is the character who resides in my head. This same character, some of you ladies know him. He is responsible for… the voice.
When I introduce this voice, I do wish I could get Bernie Mac to reprise his joke about giving your woman…"the Dick" in the middle of her conversation with someone she just has to talk to. The idea being that, why would she answer the phone? Oh? Well, when she is midsentence, a dick provider gives a solid thrust, turning "how are you" to "ho---oo---oooooh!"
Instead of "the Dick," Mr. Mac will say "the Voice." But. See, I can't describe the voice. You can only experience it. But imagine Barry White dipped in chocolate mousse with a taste of LL and Taye Diggs, running slowly down and up your leg, and at the same time, running a finger deep down your spine, lingering in all the right spots. He ain't easygoing but if you murmur just right, the going might be as easy as you want it, or don't want it.
Yeah, I'm wet too!
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