Bee 826

So somewhere around 2:30 AM, I awoke thinking to myself, “ah! What a great idea for the blog!” I then went to sleep with what I can only assume was a contented smile, knowing I had birthed a great idea, that the cats were out in the living room and quiet, and that I had a number of hours left before I had to wake up again. I remember thinking for a quick moment, “dude, you’re never gonna remember that in the morning”, but I shushed that with a brazenly reassuring, “yeah you are”.

Yeah, I don’t remember.

So I’m gonna go after this posting Guided By Voices (or as some say, Guided By Beers) style: small pieces that, fit together will probably just end up confusing the hell out of a lot of people.

I like flirting. I think it’s the funnest damn thing going. I have the “luxury” of nobody ever taking me seriously, so I don’t run the risk of falling into a sticky trap if things go wrong. I don’t know, there’s this faux danger feeling that comes with flirting, like you’re flying in the face of strenuous social mores, like you’re being a sexy bitch. Plus, it gets you out of the normal, banal getting to know you bullshit.

Why is it that any idea or thought that goes against somebody else’s beliefs is an attack on that person and their beliefs. That says to me that said person feels some sort of weakness in what they believe in, that they need to overcompensate for them. It’s sort of like the little dick theory: guys who spend all their time talking about how big their dicks are, usually have small dicks – drive big and fast cars and carry around replacement phalluses at every opportunity.

Maybe it’s not like the little dick theory at all.

Agent Cooper from Twin Peaks (David Lynch by association) is absolutely right, there’s nothing like good coffee and pie. Any pie will do, but between you and me, it’s gotta be apple. And I will put out a boycott against you if you claim a favorite other than mine.

And seriously, don’t even get me started on people who insist on listing their degrees after their names. Or using ‘Esquire’, fuck Esquire! Though guys putting ‘Master’ in front of their names seems sort of sexy, in a period bondage porn kind of way.

Finally, going back a couple weeks in postings, I would like to end with a picture of my favorite tattoo: