You are asking me if this is the whole world, and I am telling you it is

Dude,
I should have been a lumberjack. Can you dig it? Standing out in the forest with an axe in my hand, swinging it around with precision as some big fat tree. Dude, the tree's wouldn't give me any shit. For real, they would just stand there and take it, until I knocked their ass down. It would have been sweet. All the noise and falling and stuff. I would give them a gentle pat as they lay there and then move on to the next one.
A tree would never tell me I was overqualified to chop it down, hell no...
I mean, I guess I just didn't realize it, that I was overqualified and shit... You get so deep into it that you don't notice it after a while. You know what I mean?
Its like, if you spend 3 seasons training in the octagon to be a supreme lover, then you take your skills and training on the road, you know, humping all the lovely ladies, sometimes for money, sometimes for pity, sometimes out of boredom, and it all becomes a blur. You get used to the moaning and wiggling around and pretty soon you start thinking:
"Hey" you think, "That's what all the ladies do, huh? Moan and wiggle around all over the place, and they're all sweaty and its hard to keep a grip on them and then they fall off the bed and they laugh and you laugh and then they cowgirl up and you finish the job and get paid (or leave them there crying because they never had it so good and life is so unfair and how come their husband never gives it to them like that or you just put your pants on and tell them you are running to the store, same old story). It's pretty normal, eh?"
But then, you decide to take your skills somewhere exotic, like, oh, I don't know, Arizona or something, and down there they are all like, uh, yeah, that would be great, but you are overqualified to hump my brains out, you would probably ruin me for other men and you would immediately get bored with me and besides, I don't really have the room (if you know what I mean). So you sit there in your motel room, lonely, wondering how you are gonna ever get there and what the hell do they mean by that anyhow, overqualified to hump their brains out??? I wouldn't mind... you know, I'll throw you a bone, no biggee... you could probably fit me in somewhere...
OK, people, snap out of it... I know most of you are daydreaming by now, vivid picture in your head of me running around naked, but I got a point (no pun intended)!!!
Lets see, how can I say this without really saying it...
Ok, so I was "sick" a couple days ago, so I went to see "the doctor"... are you with me so far? Good...
So I went to "the doctor" and actually ended up meeting with 3 or 4 "doctors" and they asked me all sorts of "medical" questions, to see how I "feel" and how I ended up in this "state"...
And they told me there was nothing "wrong" with me, and that actually I was in perfect "health" and they would follow up with me the next day with the "results" of the "tests" they ran, you dig...
So, I was sitting by the phone like an ugly girl on Friday night that would "give it up" to the next dude that calls and they would really enjoy it because it had been 5 years since I "gave it up"...
So I was sitting here, and finally the "doctor" called and they were all hemming and hawing and finally they told me I was "overqualified" for the "sickness" they currently had going on in their "hospital" and although they wouldn't mind "checking me in" to their "hospital" in the "sickness" they did have going on, they were scared I would get "bored" and "something something"... but they might have a "sickness" coming up in a few months that I could "suffer from"...
So, to summarize:
1) I am a highly trained lover for hire.
2) I wanna take my humping skills on the road
3) I am "too sick" to be admitted to the "hospital"

***
Lets get real for a minute.
Ok, so my lovely wife went to Portland last weekend for some training and somewhere in there she found time to spend $2000 on a couple pairs of jeans. She told me she did this and I was, at first, all like, "HEY!!!" and "WTF?!?!" and I think I said something about how they better be a fine pair of jeans for that kind of money, etc... I think I was required by law to have this reaction.
So she came home and she was wearing a pair of these jeans she bought, and may I saw, GAWDDAMN!!! I didn't think it was possible for her to get any finer, but there she went again, raised the bar (in more ways than one if you know what I mean). I won't go into too much detail, but I will emphasis the fact that, DAMN!!! she looks good in them jeans... She's all walking around in front of me in them and I am,like, following the bouncing ball... watching the lyrical, uh, bouncing... of... uh, ok, I'm just going to say it, her fantastic butt. Yeah!!!
Dude, its like, everytime I look at her I am shocked at how gorgeous she is and talented and stuff, and I am amazed that there is not some sort of rope around her telling me not to "touch the artwork". Maybe there should be, cause everytime she comes into reach I feel the need to, uh, damn, reach out to touch her... not all nasty like, not all the time, you know, just stroke her arm or something. She's like a fine little filly that I just want to uh... dammit, ok, ride all the time... but I don't necessarily mean that like, you know, ride, I mean it more like I want to uh... damn... you know, I just love her and stuff and she is so fine and "HEY BABY!!!" and things...
So there you go... there you go again, being all fine... wow...