My Perfect Day

So I wake up. There are 3 women next to me. The sheets are satin. Silk maybe. They are a purplish-off-white color. The first woman is a light-skinned black woman. Big hair. Thin. Model kind of body. She is naked. I am naked. I look great naked. I am like Bruce Lee. I shoot out of bed and do 100 pushups. Then I do breathing exercises. I look around at the room. It is a carpeted room. There are kettlebells there. The other woman gets up. She is a white woman. Brunette. Small ass. Also naked. Tan. The third woman I just now notice. She is Asian. One of those hard to tell kinds. Is she Japanese or Korean or Chinese. Hard to tell.

I immediately get the e-mail going. Write an article. Telling people to go for it. I make a video. I shoot it off to my editor who fucks it up (in a good way), glitching it out and adding a soundtrack and effects. It’s is kinda trippy. I tell him to put autotune on it. We have a little talk via iChat to make that happen. I record the chat and send that to him as well, so that he can cut it up liberally.

Even though these women are beautiful and naked, I masturbate. I don’t know why. It feels good. I then go down and do my splits training. I finally got it. My legs and hips are strong and together. It took a lot of trainers and a lot of training, but I did it. I wear my Juste Debout trophy around my neck. I made them make me an extra small one. I did it. I really did it. When it comes to popping, I am no joke. It is known. I toss on a Snoop instrumental and get busy. I decide to record it and it turns into an impromptu lesson. I tell people the importance of spotting. I tell them what they need to do, who they need to watch. I shoot that over to my other editor, and he adds B-roll of other great poppers doing great spotting. Also some ballet dancers and other dancers. So that people can see.

I have a private lesson this morning, virtually. It’s a kid from Norway. He is getting pretty good. I can see he’s really been doing the exercises we’ve been working on. I tell him we are going to work on tensing the body. On subtle muscle control. I can tell he can use it. Especially in the ankles. We drill that for about 20 minutes and then I have him dance again. I tell him to keep working on that and ya know what, if it’s all right with him, let’s drill that for 40 more minutes because everything is else is looking damn good. We do that, and it’s good for me as well.

Breakfast is served. Apparently, I’m in some hotel. Room service comes with fruit for me and coconut yogurt. The girls are not as healthy–they have some bacon and fruit and eggs and more traditional stuff. I make out with them a little, tell them they’re beautiful, tell them how amazing it is to be alive and to be able to look at them, and then I leave.

I check out. I don’t know where I am. It appears to be Paris. I head out into the world. I don’t know where I am going. Oh wow, a call. It’s my agent. He wants me to do Leno. I guess I do that. Something about entertainment. This is as much a mystery to me as to you. We talk for a while and he tells me I better get to London. Remember, London.

OH YEAH! London! Dance workshop! Head over to London, do the workshop. Everybody’s excited. Some hot girls in class. I talk to them and grab their asses. Wow. I am that kind of guy. They love it. We do a killer class. It’s super dope. It’s recorded and streamed live on the Internet and is automatically archived and put up for sale as well.

All of the music is music I made. I am happy about that. Downright excited. Proud even. I give out all the music. Here. Take it. Free. Just do what you want with it.

I leave class, grab some raw food and quinoa with a few of the girls. One of them gives me a blowjob in the restaurant bathroom. Very nice. Very nice. I dip out feeling good. Another call. Manager. Big show tonight kid. Do it up. Do it well.

OH WOW! THE SHOW! THE SHOW! I almost forgot. I get to the stage. Wow. It’s big. My heart beats a little bit. 2000 seater. Wow. I don’t use a laptop apparently. It’s all done from my phone. That’s a little crazy. Even to me. I check my slides. Everything looks incredible. Slick. Moving. Real. It is all happening. The world is ready to change. I am here to do this.

Do a tech rehearsal and then it’s time for makeup and costume. It takes a while. Apparently I have some crazy suit I wear. Wow. Crazy SUITS. I guess I get naked in between. Transparency. Here is who I am.

I do some more working out. Dips. Stuff like that.

A little agility drilling. Cardio. And shit. Before I know it, it’s time.

I do it. It’s amazing. I’m on fire. It’s so crazy good I can hardly believe it. And then, it’s over. Reception. Thanks thanks yah thanks it’s good yah that’s great Thanks thanks. Lots of old people in fancy costumes. Pretty lady. Talk to her. Flirt. Grab. Get number. Go to after-dinner-party kind of thing. All raw food. Wow. Just the way I like it. Great group of people. They’re all there. Wow. It’s like that. Gwynnetth. Chris. Jigga. Thom. Leo. Jeez. Bono. I’ve really got it like that. That’s amazing.

Getting antsy. Text the girl. Come over in 2 hours to this person’s house where I’m staying. Wow. It’s Gwynneth and Chris’ house.

She comes. Make love. Have fun. Sleep. Next day….

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