who celebrates being celibate?
A*-holes, that's who.
huh?
oh,
i'm definitely NOT rejoicing at the lack, dearth, and absence of available choices
for clever, competent communicative conversation,
eye-to-eye contact, side-by-side spooning,
or good ol' fashioned hard-style pounding, either.
it's a hard style for sure.
nobody likes a crybaby,
but everyone appreciates a good black comedy.
it seems i'm foredoomed to waiting with bated breath,
and digitally mastered baited hooks,
high-tensile pickup lines, and sinking feelings.
every single day adds up to weeks adds up to months adds up to now.
and now this is happening.
or isn't happening, more accurately..
awwwwwwwww, man!
oh, c'mon.
usually, i can at least appreciate the depreciation of my present value in social currency,
but today is the day, duders, and i'm staring down the barrel
at a burgeoning bagful of bulging brass clankers, if you feel me.
wait a second- you don't feel me?
ugh.
no, i didn't mean it like that!
i'm kinda taking it to heart at this point, friends.
and i'm taking drastic action.
that's right.
self-harm by way of shark-gluttony:
there's a hole that needs filling, somewhere.
presumably in the pants of someone special....
for now, though, there's a bellyhole that needs stuffing.
down the hatch and down the tubes and down the flippin' drain.
eleven, yo.
ouch.
***********
it's so cold outside.
it's even so cold inside.
i've got the heat turned way up,
the woodstove roaring,
and i'm bundled up like i'm a bag lady with all my warmest worldly possessions on at once.
i look dumb, and i feel stupid,
but i'm warm, mutha-b!tches, and there's nary a soul peeking in my windows,
so outside of this unauthenticated account,
there's no real proof other than the fact that i am reliably honest, like it or not.
with a heavy emphasis on the 'or not'.
frozen solid, and waiting for a break in this chilled-out windy weak-sauce worst weather.
there's always a thaw someday,
but it sure won't be today;
never quiet, never soft.....7x48. XI months.
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