Highlight of My Life more like

This is the elevator at my work. I'd say on average I probably ride this elevator at least 6 times a day. Well, I ride one of 16 elevators identical to this one, that is. In any case, whenever I'm elevating and there are other people elevating with me, I run through a little self-entertaining routine. I imagine what would happen were the world to end and civilization as we know it was destroyed; yet through some freak stroke of "luck", only those of us in the elevator survived. This would naturally mean that we were responsible for the procreation of the entire human race. Of course the impossibility of how we would come to know we were the only people left on the planet being that we're stuck in a metal box is painfully obvious, but I ask you to ignore this blatant conundrum, and stick with me.
So presuming we're now responsible for breeding, I mentally check out everyone in the lift and work out who would fornicate first and with whom. Presumably age would be a major factor so any woman over 55 is out of the equation, and those over even the youthful 40 are probably low on the list what with their chances of getting a bun in the oven so drastically reduced. Same goes for men - while I know that even an 80 yr-old codger can still get his freak on, we're re-starting the human race here, we need Michael Phelps-like swimmers, so the youngest guy(s) would take the reins. Once the old fogies are weeded out, it would of course come down to aesthetics. More often than not, I am the hottest (or only) girl in the lift. This means I would then be forced to screw one of, if not all, the men in the lift. And in my mind, these world-saving sex-sessions would all takes place within this elevator, so we would have go at it in front of everyone else. Bear in mind this elevator can hold 23 people. That's a lot of doggers.

So I start rating the guys in our little civilization-starters group; who I would go for first, who would be my last choice, what they'd be like in bed (or, to be more accurate, what they'd be like on floor) etc. If there are other girls I wonder if they would be chosen first over my beautiful self. I then further wonder if I would be mostly hurt by this decision, being that's it's an insult to my looks, or if I would be mostly relieved that I didn't have to perform life's most intimate of acts with an audience of journalists and media types who work for lad mags and fashion bibles. Usually I come to the ridiculous conclusion that the former is true - I would actually rather be forced to screw a total stranger, in front of several other people and in a small confined space, than have my looks/virility in any way derided. Even in times of world crisis, my arrogance never ceases to amaze.
I also start wondering about the moment when we would all have to undress, the giggling, the awkwardness, the guy maybe not being able to "perform" under such pressure and scrutiny. Would I eventually condition myself to successfully reach orgasm despite the people staring? Would this eventually become the only way I could climax? Would the rest of the folks politely turn their backs on us while we screwed? If so, how long would this consideration last? Who would start taking a look-see first? Would the guys not being asked to take part, start jerking off at the sight of the free porn in front of them? Would the entire scenario turn into a bukake fest? And so on and so on.
This entire process takes about 30-90 seconds to complete, which is usually the length of the elevator journey itself. Sometimes if we stop on several floors, it can get mind-blowing. Last week I found myself in a cramped elevator with 13 young bucks all from various men's magazines. Not one was under 35. They were all of average looks. I had a near impossible time putting them in sexual order. I resorted to taking fashion markers and the amount of hair product used into consideration. It was such an agonizing process, I almost felt like telling the guy I eventually chose, "Hey man, you won! I'd defs nail you first over these other guys if the future of the human race depended on it! Well, unless your friend there changed his clothes and buffed up a bit...".
This mental exercise is the highlight of my day. I look forward to it with excitement and it's a fantastic way to pass the time and jazz up an otherwise mundane, yet necessary, daily journey. You can try it on public transport as well! It gets tough on crowded tube carriages, but one time I found myself on the central line with what looked like two all-male indie bands and suddenly the idea of armageddon was getting me wet. And if you can get horny thinking about the end of the world, you can conquer anything!

In other news:

I broke the belt loop on my leather belt. This has never happened to me before but I was pleasantly surprised to find out it was only stapled in to begin with. I think this will be one bit of "sewing" I can deal with!

I've been a lot more social lately. Hanging out with friends, eating bagels, watching my friends rock out with their cocks out:

(and taking unfocused pictures of them in which you can't even see their faces.)


Going to costume/karaoke parties as Robert Smith in an odd pairing with Slash:

And yes, beneath that over-sized white top I had the obligatory black leggings and white high-tops. One of the most simple yet effective costumes ever. And ladies, there is nothing as liberating as smearing one's eyeliner and lipstick on. Literally took me about 90 seconds to "put my face on". If only I was an overweight goth, make-up could be this easy every day.

And finally, this is for my best friend Katie and her new blogspot (katiecoleslaw.blogspot.com):

The most tanned girl I know.

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