Weekly Shot #9

The Cum Tree

I mentioned a few posts ago that my moods are fully dependent on what’s going on outside. I must report that the vibes are very high.

The weather is breaking. I’m wearing shorts and a sweatshirt. Our pool is getting opened. I am at least thinking about grilling outside, which has become an impossibility with two kids. I am a happy man. I will celebrate this good weather by reading The Deep Blue Goodbye by John D. Macdonald for the 100^th time and drinking copious amounts of alcohol like I’m still in college before I remember that a hangover in good weather is just as bad as a hangover in bad weather. The hangover does not discriminate.

But the real test of whether the seasons have officially changed is that beautiful aroma of fresh cum in the air. That’s right. Fresh cum. If you don’t know what I’m talking about then chances are you are not form the suburbs in the Northeast of the United States. In almost every neighborhood there is a beautiful tree that blooms right around this time. It’s got these little bushels of white flowers with small hard fruits that look like olives (or testicles). And every year this tree fills the air with the smell of semen. I actually laughed out loud after receiving a text from one of my best friends Jeremy who is from California and absolutely detests winter in the Northeast. The text was simple and to the point – “Finally smells like cum outside.”

The tree is called the Pyrus Calleryana, or the Callery Pear. You gotta’ think Callery was a real freak if this tree was named after him. You don’t get the cum tree named after you for no reason. According to Wikipedia, the Callery Pear is technically an invasive species from China, which isn’t shocking. Just add it to the list of things that China has exported to us that aren’t necessary – stink bugs, Chinese lantern flies, TikTok, cheap clothing, students protesting for communism, etc… I wonder if the smell of cum is enveloping China as we speak. Then I wonder if China’s version of a dirty, no-name writer is penning up his own blog about the sexual smell in the air only to be found and shot dead for daring to write that China isn’t a perfect place and that it too could smell like cum.

How the tree got here doesn’t matter anymore. It’s here to stay. And ever since I can remember, around the end of April, I start feeling like a dirty little slut. I assume the position as if I were a porn star waiting for the money shot of summer to arrive. That sweet smell of semen fills the air and I know winter is finally gone for good.

P.S. - After this past Saturday’s lengthy word vomit I’m going to keep this one short and sweet, just like my sex game and the blossoming of the Pyrus Calleryana.

P.P.S. – Hopefully this is my last post about sex for a while.

P.P.P.S. – Just kidding, this Saturday’s post will be about “rizz”.