I've wanted to fuck Jamie Lee Curtis since seeing her hot hooker body in Trading Places. I'd still want to fuck her, despite what the Internets tell me about her semi-hemaphorditic, non-decended, shrunken internal testicles or the Tri-X chromosomal genetic freakshow she's got going on. Whatever. She's hot. At least she was.
 
My JLC fantasies came crashing down for me this past month. I just returned to my refugee status from a 3 week trip in the good ole US of A, the first time I'd been back in about 2 years. And what's the first thing I see on TV? A baseball, football, hockey, or basketball game broadcast at a normal time of the day (i.e. not @ 2am)? No. Dramatic news footage of a river rescue or a car chase or something exploding? No. A CSI or Law & Order or NYPD Blue rerun? No (although - fuck - there are a lot of those). The first thing I was greeted with when I flipped on the teevee was Jamie Lee Curtis telling me how to keep my digestive tract healthy by eating Activa yogurt.

As long as I keep mental images of JLC's digestive tract out of my fantasies, my sex life might recover. However, if I'm unable to remove the image of millions of intestinal microflora floating in her colon doing "their thing", I might as well hang up my cock right now and get a head start on my 60's.