If any of you have been following Thinkinfyou for over a year, you know that I don’t believe in New Year’s Resolutions. No, I see coming up with one as just a way of warning yourself of the new year’s failure you’ve got ahead of you.Plus, honestly, I’ve never found myself at this time of the year having a problem that I felt was worthy enough of wanting to change, I happen to be happy with my warped fucked up habits,and quirks…they are what makes me unique! But then I went to sleep last night and everything changed. I woke up realizing that my sub conscious could use A LOT of help and fast!
Now if you can remember when I did a post on wet dreams, I was very honest with you about only having one wet dream in my life thus far, and the honor of Thinkinfyou’s wet dream devirginizer went to Sean Connery in all his Scottish glory.
That dream was a good dream but yet slightly disturbing,for as I explained before I’ve never been sexually attracted to geriatric men,at least not knowingly. I didn’t think much about it after it was over,and went on dreaming of flowers and butterflies,and ax carrying masked men chasing me trying to slice me in two…you know normal stuff. But last night as I laid my head down to slumber,preparing myself to run for my life, I entered a dream where there were no masks.No,there was only me and Kenny Rogers,standing in the middle of a kitchen somewhere .At first I was a little confused because it wasn’t the Kenny of today, who’s face really does look like a mask with really small eye holes. 
No,this Kenny was the one that I remember from my youth, you know the one that looked like an older Grizzly Adams without the talent of being able to tame a grizzly bear,but made up for it by infiltrating the airways during late seventies and early eighties with hits like “The Gambler” and “ Islands In The Stream”.

Anyways, when that Kenny entered my dream,he came up behind me pressing what I thought was his microphone into my lower back.Immediately, I got nervous thinking he was going to want me to sing a duet with him…and even in my dreams ,I know I can’t sing. So I went to turn to tell him of my vocal inabilities ,when he grab my arm and whispered into my ear something like
“You got to know when to do ‘em, know when to screw ‘em,
Know when to pump away and know when to cum.
You never mount your honey when you’re sittin’ at the table.
There’ll be time enough for mountin’ when this dream is done.”
And for some reason these lyrics were like mood music to my ears. I turn into his embrace and sang out with the vocals of a song bird and said ” My man in my dreams, that is what you are,
I’ll let you in between, though it feels so wrong,
Nail away on me, with your old man dong,
but don’t you die on me old man,uh uh. Cause I’ll smother under your blubber ,uh huh.”
Needless to say after those beautiful loving lines were uttered from my mouth,we made sweet, sweet love,the kind that love songs are made from.Then sadly, seconds later I woke up ,satisfied,but knowing I had a HUGE problem , but no idea how to rectify it. Surely there aren’t books out there to teach someone how not to whore themselves out to the geriatric in their dreams.Feeling like a freak,I laid there in my puddle and thought, until I heard the voice of the Gambler coming to me again,for a minute I thought I had dozed off and was about to go for round two ,but my eyes were wide open and I could still hear him singing, although the tune was a little different this time. He sang ,
“The gambler wants you to know, that you’re what he was deprivin’
He want you to ho away, every time you sleep.
‘Cause he thinks you’re a winner , so don’t think you’re a loser,
And he promises he won’t die on you, the next time that you sleep.”
And when he’d finished speakin’, I laid back on my pillow, came to terms with my freakness, and faded off to sleep. Then somewhere in my dreams, the gambler, he broke in again. And in our final round, I found a disgrace that I might keep.