Ever woken up to the birds chirping? Sunlight streaming through the window slates? A fleshy morel tipped cattle prod sleepily molesting the small of your back? Among the things I miss least about past relationships are the half-awake propositions for sex when I’ve still got crusted eye snot gluing my lower and upper lashes together on one eye, while the other awkwardly darts around trying to remember those upon-waking details.. Read More