Children Are The Orgasm Of The World? Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

Browsing Cherry Lazar's Instagram site, I saw that her most recent post was about decorating the design dilly-dildo that she had bought from the maestress of porcelain Adele Brydges (hand-made by a hand maiden?) . Cherry (aka Stephie Key)recommends doing this for yourself: ‘I spent a fab morning that turned into a day. Now I have a primavera on a phallus and I have never been happier with my life choices'. And I thought of Hera Lindsay Bird and her inspirational stories. ‘What's kinder than the glittered baseball cap of a stranger telling you what to strive for? ' Well how about putting some transfers on a vibrator and revving it up, living for the moment, reaching for the sky but remembering to breathe? Which then raises the question again as to whether children are the orgasm of the world - and if they are, where does this leave the lasagna, the hovercraft and helicopter, the sheep, and pasture rotation under modern farming practices?And whether orgasms get you up at three in the morning because there is a bogeyman behind the curtain or because blue ted has gone AWOL over the cot railings. Well if you are the dad and you haven't had sex for three weeks because the kid has created a time paradox in which lust is history, you might just want to think about a vibrating sheath that looks a bit like the rubber grip that you can finagle off a bike handlebar or the Next Generation guybrator, the 'Hot Octopus', which has been likened to a $99 USB-rechargeable Darth Vader helmet - promoted as altogether trying to do something newly ambitious. Mind you, it might be best to slam dunk that one in the spare toilet - if you really can be bothered going down to the garage to fossick around under the camping gear at that time of the night - even if you are able to summon the thought of Cherry or Hera, or ideally both, naked on a distant and rocky outcrop.