Curling Irony

I'm watching XX Winter Olympic Games Curling. How suck is that? There is literally nothing else on. See, this is why I don't actively watch the tele. If I could make up my own Winter Olympic event, it would be Interpretive Bobsledding. Or maybe Bumper Bobsledding. Two teams start at opposite ends of a 10,000 foot track, do all the twisty turns and accelerate to 100 MPH or whatever, then the finish line is in a giant clear Habitrail tube where horrific collision is inevitable. Tell me that wouldn't be cool. Whoever ends up with the most limbs wins.

Excommunicated from passion

Don't be like me by letting fear dictate your future.

I will forever shuffule amongst these shards of a broken heart, ever disassembled and rendered incomplete.

Meet me at Times Square

Ann asked if I would delete the entry that would otherwise be here. It was about my Manhattan friends in high places, singing in the Alogonquin Room or living large in Tribeca. Whatever. Let's not mention that I met both Lisa and Fiona at Pt. Pleasant Beach, where I used to live and now I live at a hot train stop. Be cool. They dig me but have tons of friends. I think they view me as a human from end to end to end.

I dream big

My dreams would beguile you....on the edge of an aircraft carrier sailing into Queens, NY;, A haunted house with secret compartments matching the house I grew up in, on a boat that floats among Yankee hats, a Trading Spaces episode where I bang Paige in a painted bed and we refuse to get up, and she morphs into her. They paint around us while we totally go at it. They call the ceiling color "cum". Bedspread matches.

One

I'm ready to die; I'm ready to be glad to be alive. Fuck disbelievers. Fuck non-lovers. Fuck the unfaithful. I can go without you.  I want CG on her best day, the real thing. We whip one another into tornados of lust. Without losing an atom of love.

Eureka

“Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.”
 - Carl Gustav Jung

Weather as karma

Just enough snow today to make me ride God's penance for three days of bad behavior. 20 inches of snow to shovel from driveway to sidewalk to front porch. I'm fucking freezing and my back feels like it has a piano attached to it. Someone come and squeeze warm sponge water over my neck. I'll be eternally grateful. Boobs would help, too. The nurturing nuzzle of a fair pair would take years off my spine. Especially CG. I'd take her in hot tub bikini wear. Then work on un knotting our differences.

Injustice

I am so fucked up right now. I was in a car accident a couple of weeks ago and my head smashed against the driver’s side window. I blanked out for a few seconds –seemed like hours—but then I came to. They took me on a trip in the ambulance but never took my statement about the accident. So the only record of what happened is from the lady who broadsided me. No input from me. I’ve blacked out three times since the accident. And I got two tickets. I got royally fucked. I have no balance and my mememory is all messed up. Anyone know a good lawyer? Oh, did I mention that I'm unemployed?

CG

Awkward is not even close to the definition.

It was worse than a first date. But with the tension of a tenth consecutive prolongated four hour orgasm. Like being on the set and the cameras rolling. Gotta make it happen. Gotta use all the tricks up my sleeve. Gotta swirl her into perfect position. Gotta point her toward the love she’s streaming for.

And this was in a car in the Menlo Park Mall parking lot, delivering Christmas presents on Valentine’s Day for Christmas. Ouch. I'm too in love for me to be. I need a bullet through my head or a different arrow through my heart. I couldn't even look at her today without falling in love. I hate that.

Menlo Park

Overwhelming Minutes

 

Derailed from my goals in life at an early age. Derailed again at a later age. So, apparently the answer is to go to a doctor. Fuck that. Why? When a train gets derailed, does it go to a doctor? No. It gets put back on track, fired up and ready to go full speed ahead. People make sure the track is OK, not the train.

I could barely drive home today.

 

Tears were streaming down my face. I knew that the happiest time of my life was over. 39, and I’m done. I have nothing but motions to look forward to. But I promise I will learn from my mistakes. For your sake, my dear. I’m scared about the future. I’m incomplete. I’m left like some dangling liquid wax, ready to drop and hybrid into the floor where everyone has been before, ignored, where nothing makes sense anymore.