So heres yer boy. Its a Saturday afternoon, hes been in the iron grip of insomnia for the better part of two months, and hes doing such *nice* things as volunteering to go to work early, etc. Fine. Ruin my moment, why dont you? Hah! says the wife. Hes only going to work early because he cant sleep, he doesnt know what to do with himself next, and it enhances the image hes trying to project. And shes right: The image Im trying to project is that of a guy who cant sleep, doesnt know what to do with himself next, but plies his personality-disorders into a mutually profitable arrangement with his employers. In the old days, this was called turning lemons into lemonade, or making the best of a bad situation. I stand corrected. I have since encountered the Lesbyn Womyns Chycks Wyth Dycks Front, and have noted that being born with a banana twixt ones legs is the contemporary equivalent of having been a raisin in the sun five decades ago. Luckily, Im a Mick. Were only self-conscious enough to know that sure as feck, wouldnt be take a roll in the hay with the likes of *them* in the absence of an on-the-table cash incentive (unmarked bills, thankee kindly) -- so who cares? As many of you know, I THRIVE on unpopularity. Am I the only social reject who, when he/she overcomes the natural pain any human being (a social animal, by nature) experiences in the face of seemingly gratuitous and ever-unexplained rejection, comes to enjoy it? Sorry. The beef is browned. Time to make the sauce. Ill pick this thread up in a moment. ~D
Posted on: Sat, 09 Aug 2014 18:00:43 +0000
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