All I can think about is her

As most of my wonderful and caring readership knows, I have developed a crush on a certain pretty, and I just can't seem to get her out of my mind. It's all encompassing, all I can think about is her.

Last night was a perfect example, I went camping with my legitimate children, and a friend who decided to come along for the ride. I should have been concentrating on my legitimates, but instead all I could think about was this precious beauty.

I'll give you a few examples of the times I was thinking about this incredible, luscious treat.

I was pumping up my air mattress, pumping up and down, up and down, harder and harder until the sweat poured down my face, I was pumping so hard and so fast that I nearly collapsed, and yet all I could think of was her.

I was sitting next to the campfire scratching my groin with a shoehorn, and all I could think of was her.

I stuck a wiener on a stick and stuck it over the fire, I watched the wiener get red, redder, and plump, getting bigger and ready to bust, and all I could think of was her.

I was watching the girl that came along for the ride drink a glass of milk. She put the glass to her lips, took a sip and a little bit spilled down her chin. I watched the creamy milk drip down her chin, and looked in amazement as she lapped it off with her enormous tongue, but all I could think of was the girl who I have a crush on.

I was piercing my nipples with a the sharp end of an unraveled coat hanger, but all I could think about was piercing her nipples with the sharp end of an unraveled coat hanger.

I chased down a squirrel that stole a bag of Dorito's from our picnic table, and while I was stomping on its head with my boot, I found that my heart wasn't into it, all I could think about was her.

As I plugged in my flying V guitar into the amplifier, next to the tent, and as I wailed away playing Santana, all I could think about was how I would rather wail away on her.

When the Park Ranger came by our campsite at 4:30 A.M. to tell me to turn the music down, I spat in his face, but I was thinking in my mind that I'd rather spit in her face.

The next morning we went to Toy's R Us because the girl that came along for the ride had to buy a birthday gift for her niece. I was standing in the section where they sell the Barbies, and I was lifting up Barbies little dress and prodding Barbies naked plastic body with my fingers, all I could think about was how I would rather prod and poke her naked plastic body with my fingers.

We stopped for gas and a new immigrant to Canada had accidentally set himself on fire. He was yelling and screaming and kicking up a fuss, but all I could think of is how I wish he'd shut his fucking mouth because I can't concentrate on thinking about my girl.

Before I dropped my legitimate children off at their legitimate baby momma's house, we had to stop at the A&P to pick up some luncheon meats. I was squeezing 600 grams of 100% Canadian Grade "A" beef between my fingers, and all I could think about is how I really only wanted to squeeze her 600 grams of Canadian Grade "A" beef.

Finally, I came home, mentally exhausted, and decided to watch midget porn. Of course I wished it was us in that video, except for the part where they are so short and the guy was hung like a hamster, and the chick looked like she smelled, and she had acne on her ass. Other than that, I wish it was us having sex for money in front of a producer, director and a movie crew.

My heart is heavy, I know you can tell. How do I stop this pain that is ripping me apart?