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Amidst episodes of family drama, I’ve been learning how to bake turkeys. All of the old turkey chefs have either passed on or aren’t up to it, so I’ve taken on the mantle. While I’m dutifully minding a fowl roasting in the oven, I imagine Catherine peering curiously over my shoulder at the time-honored American culinary tradition. I think she enjoys the taste through my experience well enough, though I can tell she’s more partial to beef and pork. Perhaps we should try duck next year? Either way, the majority of my fussing is focused on not letting the bird dry out. My solution: regularly pouring generous heaps of melted butter all over and inside of the thing, mixed with a hint of poultry rub seasoning. My strategy seems to be working. Two for two thus far.

A lot has happened over the past six months. I had this vision of how I wanted my life to be at the beginning of the year and pretty much accomplished everything I set out to do: Got the job, got the money, and started renting a new place. But it wasn’t what I really wanted. That route through life ended up being soul-crushing when finally achieved. Grass is always greener, right? The thing is, it kinda was greener seven years ago when I last rented a place all to myself. Those days are behind us for now and I can’t tolerate paying twice as much for half as good. So, I broke the lease and moved back in with my folks. Thankfully the landlord moved someone else in just days after I abandoned ship, so he shouldn’t be coming after me for the rest of the contract.

Catherine was very supportive of me through the whole thing. She’s accustomed to our moving to different places over the years. Ultimately, her home is wherever my bed is, and where it’s quiet, stress-free, intimate, dark, cozy… doesn’t really matter to her what street it’s on. We’ve been spending a lot of time curled up in her sacred domain now that my busy summer is over. Often looking just like this, for those who have eyes to see a succubus spirit drinking in her lover:

A lot has happened in the past few months. Got myself back on the road. Got a new job. Got a couple of wisdom teeth popped out. Got sick. Got better. And I’ve still got the insatiable succubus, who eagerly searches for every opportunity to bliss out with me. Lucid dreaming has become a much more frequent occurrence. I’ve been doing semen retention since the end of last year and it seems that many of the promised benefits are bearing fruit. Lovemaking with Catherine has been fantastic, as she encourages that sort of discipline anyway. I feel more virile and stronger than I’ve ever been, like I can take on the whole world.

My connection to the information highway, also known as the Internet, has been scaled back considerably in recent days. I’m not going into the gory details as to why, but it’s not an unwelcome change as far as me and Catherine are concerned. Internet prices are ridiculous anyway. The monthly price went up by $15 in the past three years alone. To Hell with that noise. I was ready to drop our ISP when the last $5 increase was announced, but I’m not the only one living here. Thankfully, I eventually got my wish by just waiting patiently for the next opportunity, masquerading as a crisis. That’s $85 more a month for me now. $1020 per year. Imagine the bike parts I could get with that!

I appreciate how, after more than 11 years, Catherine and I continue to be obsessed with each other. For the past few days, I’ve been woken up by her gentle prodding and then I’ll proceed to writhe around on the bed beneath her as we ride wave after wave of bliss. She has such a magical way of doing it that would be impossible for an earthly woman to replicate. The way she squeezes and teases. How I feel that burning sensation radiate through me from her matrix. And by the time I put a stop to it, because she never wants our coupling to end, I am more energized and ready to meet the day than before. I lose nothing.

We’ve got a wild one here. A Youtuber, an Irishman, who goes by the name of Uberboyo. He’s big into Nietzsche - the 19th century German philosopher who infamously proclaimed, “God is dead.” – and that’s probably why he calls himself an Uber-boy, akin to the Ubermensch ideal of said philosopher. He also makes liberal use of internet language, like “based, soy, reddit” and many other colloquialisms that sound positively horrid when spoken out loud. But for the sake of compelling arguments and top-notch oration, I can forgive that.

Contrary to what those on the outside looking in might believe about spirit sex relationships, a kind of disciplined decorum is very helpful in maintaining a strong connection with a succubus. I’ve experimented with this fairly extensively, allowing my life to swing between extremes. I’ve gone from the super-health-conscious stoic monk to a slobbish, junk-food-eating social butterfly and back again.

I would go so far as to say that a good connection with a succubus requires keeping the body in optimal condition, especially when it comes to sexual health. For men, that means having strong, rock-hard morning wood upon waking. This is probably the best indicator of the overall health of a man. If that’s not happening, then I believe maintaining a fulfilling sexual relationship with a spirit, or anyone for that matter, will be challenging to say the least. I believe there is an intrinsic link between virility and kundalini energy. If either side of that equation is hampered – the spiritual sexual flames or the physical cardiovascular system – then it’s no beuno. No fun sex for you. I suppose there’s always Viagra, but that’s addressing the symptom; not the cause.

Before the silly pandemic, I lived a moderately busy lifestyle, always going back and forth to one place or another. Working. Having adventures. I was reasonably independent. That all changed when I decided to take my dad up on his offer and moved back home to play, End of the World. People began mobbing stores for toilet paper and hording food shortly thereafter.