It Occurred To Me This Morning...
...that the entire universe could be the result of some larger adolescent being who's working us out in his basement. Odd, isn't it?
In the entire scheme of things, it doesn't really matter that people can be Scaramouch's. We can usually avoid them (except in the case of ex-husbands who, long ago should have been pleasant memories but instead, are currently enjoying the fight as though it happened yesterday...rather than 1987.). I don't know how many times I've retorted with, "Nineteen eighty WHAT!?!?" when accused of some cocaine related charge that my ex husband has used to judge me ever since. (I give. I did it. I snorted cocaine in 1986. I didn't CREATE the crap, I just dabbled in it. And...there's no way I'm believe that freak didn't at least TRY it himself. But I can't prove it so I shan't make baseless allegations. Call me kooky!) Personally, I just smirk and walk away when I encounter such fools but you may have another way of handling them, perhaps activity that involves a rumble. Whatever.
I think that my main point was really stupid, something like Men Suck in one form or another and that could come across as anti-man and I am currently going through a very favorable attitude toward men. I think it has something to do with the fact that the only man I see is the mailman and he doesn't even get out of his truck. I don't do the "hanging from the car/truck door" thing anymore. Like flannel shirts, it worked much better when I was 17.
Funny thing about men, whomever they are, wherever they are and to whomever they belong, they all take the same bait. The 55 year old dude I played with in LA was enticed by the exact same thing that I used in 1982...a woman having fun dressed in adorable clothes and obviously all alone. It helps if you get to dance unless you have those little Elaine kicks.
It's always wise to do an honest appraisal of your own dancing. You could use a camcorder or even a web cam...and it wouldn't hurt if you downed at least three stiff highballs because seriously, isn't that what it takes you to REALLY get down? That White Boy dance might work sober but you should really see what it looks like drunk.
If you don't know what you're doing, you could end up all drunk on the dance floor, struttin' your stuff and then out of nowhere, you spin around. I hate the arbitrary dance spin. If I see it coming, I'll slip silently into the dance crowd and wiggle my way to a dark corner before he spins back to me. And there I wait until he gives up looking for me. In hindsight, that's not really a good barometer of a man's character, just his drunk dance ethos. Hell, Prince Charles probably took an arbitrary dance spin at some point in all of those balls he's played with. I'm SURE Prince Harry has done it a FEW times.
Oh well, I simply cannot get past certain things and one of them is arbitrary dance spins. Another would be guys who take too much time folding, pulling and tucking his shirt in order to show his muscles as though any fool with a cerebellum couldn't produce one of those. Hell, a chicken runs around with no head, I bet no man can say that. Oh well, it doesn't matter, I don't do men who spend more that 6 seconds putting on a shirt, maybe I'll go to 42 if there are buttons, zippers or snaps involved. Strike that, I don't do zipper/snap shirted dudes either. Buttons. If it isn't a cool Black Hawks T-shirt, it better have buttons.
OK, I'm getting somewhere!
This next requisite might sound a little cold but I would also prefer if the guy had, respectfully and with without having to subject to a polygraph...buried both of his parents. I hate ma-ma drama and in my world, that exists in the form of a dates' mother. I could almost handle a father, but I'd rather not. People my age aren't even supposed to HAVE living parents so if he does, I'm worried that HE'LL live to 100 and that would mean that he would be there UNTIL THE DAY I DIE. I tried that once. If I had given it this much thought at the time, I wouldn't have wasted 20+ years on a 0.4 on a 1-10 scale. Hell, a penis gets you one point, he lost some for the skid marks.
The one lesson people should take from this experience is that you never choose a spouse during a drinking binge in your life. Like the bitch at closing time, he could be a real frightening yahoo to sober up to. And yes, that is why I'm giving it so much thought this time.
OMG!!!
Did I just end up with a Men Suck thing? I am laughing with tears in my eyes, you would enjoy this. I think I'll just walk away from the computer. It sucks something out of my brains. I just wish it would take what's left of my estrogen. That shit only serves to confuse me.
...that the entire universe could be the result of some larger adolescent being who's working us out in his basement. Odd, isn't it?
In the entire scheme of things, it doesn't really matter that people can be Scaramouch's. We can usually avoid them (except in the case of ex-husbands who, long ago should have been pleasant memories but instead, are currently enjoying the fight as though it happened yesterday...rather than 1987.). I don't know how many times I've retorted with, "Nineteen eighty WHAT!?!?" when accused of some cocaine related charge that my ex husband has used to judge me ever since. (I give. I did it. I snorted cocaine in 1986. I didn't CREATE the crap, I just dabbled in it. And...there's no way I'm believe that freak didn't at least TRY it himself. But I can't prove it so I shan't make baseless allegations. Call me kooky!) Personally, I just smirk and walk away when I encounter such fools but you may have another way of handling them, perhaps activity that involves a rumble. Whatever.
I think that my main point was really stupid, something like Men Suck in one form or another and that could come across as anti-man and I am currently going through a very favorable attitude toward men. I think it has something to do with the fact that the only man I see is the mailman and he doesn't even get out of his truck. I don't do the "hanging from the car/truck door" thing anymore. Like flannel shirts, it worked much better when I was 17.
Funny thing about men, whomever they are, wherever they are and to whomever they belong, they all take the same bait. The 55 year old dude I played with in LA was enticed by the exact same thing that I used in 1982...a woman having fun dressed in adorable clothes and obviously all alone. It helps if you get to dance unless you have those little Elaine kicks.
It's always wise to do an honest appraisal of your own dancing. You could use a camcorder or even a web cam...and it wouldn't hurt if you downed at least three stiff highballs because seriously, isn't that what it takes you to REALLY get down? That White Boy dance might work sober but you should really see what it looks like drunk.
If you don't know what you're doing, you could end up all drunk on the dance floor, struttin' your stuff and then out of nowhere, you spin around. I hate the arbitrary dance spin. If I see it coming, I'll slip silently into the dance crowd and wiggle my way to a dark corner before he spins back to me. And there I wait until he gives up looking for me. In hindsight, that's not really a good barometer of a man's character, just his drunk dance ethos. Hell, Prince Charles probably took an arbitrary dance spin at some point in all of those balls he's played with. I'm SURE Prince Harry has done it a FEW times.
Oh well, I simply cannot get past certain things and one of them is arbitrary dance spins. Another would be guys who take too much time folding, pulling and tucking his shirt in order to show his muscles as though any fool with a cerebellum couldn't produce one of those. Hell, a chicken runs around with no head, I bet no man can say that. Oh well, it doesn't matter, I don't do men who spend more that 6 seconds putting on a shirt, maybe I'll go to 42 if there are buttons, zippers or snaps involved. Strike that, I don't do zipper/snap shirted dudes either. Buttons. If it isn't a cool Black Hawks T-shirt, it better have buttons.
OK, I'm getting somewhere!
This next requisite might sound a little cold but I would also prefer if the guy had, respectfully and with without having to subject to a polygraph...buried both of his parents. I hate ma-ma drama and in my world, that exists in the form of a dates' mother. I could almost handle a father, but I'd rather not. People my age aren't even supposed to HAVE living parents so if he does, I'm worried that HE'LL live to 100 and that would mean that he would be there UNTIL THE DAY I DIE. I tried that once. If I had given it this much thought at the time, I wouldn't have wasted 20+ years on a 0.4 on a 1-10 scale. Hell, a penis gets you one point, he lost some for the skid marks.
The one lesson people should take from this experience is that you never choose a spouse during a drinking binge in your life. Like the bitch at closing time, he could be a real frightening yahoo to sober up to. And yes, that is why I'm giving it so much thought this time.
OMG!!!
Did I just end up with a Men Suck thing? I am laughing with tears in my eyes, you would enjoy this. I think I'll just walk away from the computer. It sucks something out of my brains. I just wish it would take what's left of my estrogen. That shit only serves to confuse me.
posted by Meg Kelso | 6:55 AM
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