So I have anew theory about pillows…and specifically about a woman’s bed with a gazliion assorted pillows stacked up, completely covering the bed.

The genesis of the theory starts with the last 20 hours or so spent in bed with the Russian. As we lay there between bouts, she jokingly mentioned that she might have forgotten how to stand and maybe even how to walk. It felt like the longer we kept in bed, the harder it was to actually leave…to get up, walk around, do Saturday stuff. I began to realize that the bed (the bed of randomness as it were…the opposite of systematic) was acting sort of like a transition nexus. A means of conveying, quickly and efficiently, evolutionary effects. She said that she thought she was devolving, that maybe should couldn’t physically walk upright anymore…I mentioned that my legs weren’t bending as much, that they were cramping in place, immovable. We laughed but there was seriousness underneath the giggles.

I thought about that evolutionary process and wondered what the potential end states would be…well, the state when maximum entropy was reached and I had to conclude that it was toward pillows. We were evolving toward becoming pillows. The longer we remained in bed, regardless the naked romps and deviant fun, at some point in the future we were looking at a tipping point, a point of no return where evolution pushed us toward an eternity as feather stuffed cotton bags. The Russian joked about pillow talk being the conversant language going forward but I realized it was just whistling past the graveyard. I could foresee the yet unwritten Twilight Zone episode where the monster was the gorgeous naked girl…

…enticing men who couldn’t figure out why she had so many damn pillows on her bed.

You’ve been warned.

Believe. Go. Do.


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