Reflective Gear Should be Worn at All Times

“Genius is one of the many forms of insanity.” by Cesare Lombroso.
If that be the case, idiot savants are free from the maladies of the heart…
Ambien, the Annie C., Grace

..nothing but your mind can set you free.. marley
..nothing but your mind can set you free..
marley

Regression & it’s TV Sidekicks

Viva La BamStupidity is also a gift of God, but one mustn’t misuse it.

Top 5 TV shows for children trapped in an adult’s body:

Dollhouse

a secret facility that erases your personality so you can become someone more relevant.

Viva La Bam

stunts performed by big people on skateboards…designed to make you feel good about yourself.

Lost Girl

Teeny bopping Princess who sucks the sexual energy out of everyone she meets allowing her to continue to feed her own vanity.

Anyone but Me

an even newer and dumber generation of fools worried about their sexual identity.

Charmed

a family of witches who have special powers and don’t really do much but look good on screen.

Starting this summer:

Travels with Ambien Grace, 22 and not yet out of her own fantasy.  Coming to a meltdown near your.  Check your social media for local listing!  Parents warning does contain big girl nudity and big girl fantasies!

My Married Psycho Bitch

Modern Mechanix - Wife Swapping (Jan, 1959) .....
Modern Mechanix – Wife Swapping (Jan, 1959) …item 2..Sin in the suburbs (1964 Joseph W. Sarno) – “Number 305” … (Photo credit: marsmet551)

Is there ever any doubt that between two opposing sides, somewhere in the middle there is truth?  The instability between the two is as vast as the deep blue sea!  Whatever the fuck that means!  Someone happened to say it to me once and it sounded good, therefore, it is my intelligent line for the day.

Just because there are fouls in my court; cries, temper tantrums, warnings to perspective ‘romantic’ interests that my mood may be different tomorrow.

In a nutshell while confined to an emotional attic room up around White’s Park, Concord NH this is how I read:

Rest assured that

When I start to make you nervous

And I’m going to extremes

Tomorrow I will change

And today won’t mean a thing.

So, true.  Yet, it isn’t all me.  Although, I’d like to think it is all about me.

What can I say?  Rumor has it by Ambien Grace:

-I know that Kate, my ex-girlfriend, no I am not a lesbian and quit asking, well, psycho bitch left me with nothing but the taste of bad cum in my mouth.  And, I don’t even like going down on women.

-She claimed to be out of the bed of her wife, she wasn’t, and I know it.

-Claimed to be celibate for two years, wrong again!  Rumor has it she had a pretty healthy sex life before, during and after my youthful stupidity entered her life.

-Claimed to love me to the end.  But the more I think of it, our relationship was as a good book waiting in the wings.

How did I put it to her once?

“You should write a book on how I seduced you.”

What does she say?

“First, I’m going to start to blog about it.”

Me:

“That’s one way to start.  You should remember to include, how I started wearing short shorts to work. And, purposely would bend over right in front of you.  Just leave the going up the ass stuff out, Mother Theresa would have a bird.”

Wish I knew then what I believe to be whole hearted truth now.  Book three almost ready for the press and Book Four had already been in production.

There is more to this shitty prescription drug workplace romance story.  I haven’t covered it all.  What the fuck was I thinking?

Kate’s tastes in women were brunette, short, feminine, smart and well hung.

Me; I am square as a shithouse door on a tuna boat, sexual identity not intact, Victoria’s Secret leaves me looking like Rosie O’Donnell with dyed blonde hair and I carry half my weight in my breasts.

Stupid is as stupid does.  How did I put it once?

“Yeah…i could use tutoring in the English department, I don’t test well.  I had to have my mom help me all through school.”

Tru dat!

 

I’m not OK with Gay!

Identity on CrackIf I were to die tomorrow, found by an unknown and the parents were called in for questioning, if Mother Theresa and Father Floyd needed to identify the body; they would not know want to look for!
Up at the Cinema on the heights I currently sit, awaiting the fantasy film of the week. I am invisible, I am alone and I am no one to anyone around me.
What worries me is this;
My mother picks out my clothes. She won’t let me wear men’s jeans. We have matching shoes. She makes my appointments for spray tanning during the winter months because as she puts it,
Ambien, you just look so pasty and unhealthy!”
Theresa does not allow me to wear hats for hats remind her of gay people. She gives me my chore list in the morning and I receive no ‘Atta girl’ until the list is done.
When I volunteer somewhere to make this world a better place, Theresa has already told me that I am not allowed to touch the paperwork.
My mother dictates where I go, who I see and my sexual identity.
My father. Well he just balances my checkbook?
For all outward appearances in the tiny theater awaiting Bella my heroine, no one would know I was a college graduate. My life is planned; therefore, I need not worry.
Yet, worry I do. I know it is unusual for anyone to tell another adult who they can and cannot love. It is just that I don’t think I care that much.
I live for the Bella’s of this world, the Pocahontas’s, the Twilight’s last gleaming and eternal love affair.
Do I have a need to ride off into the sunset with a woman? No!
Women and I don’t mix because my mother tells me so. They are too controlling, too wanting of my attention and too much a female and not accepted by the moral majority.
But, Mother, the sex is good with women!
When I sit alone in the dusty theater watching an actress on the big screen, I hold my breath and think, I could do that! I could nail her!
Are women attractive to me? Certainly not! Older women, younger women, women friends should never be allowed to enter the forbidden zone, sex devientcy!
So, I make the most of it with toys and the occasional, masturbating in the back of the movie theater. I am quiet in my rhymic responses to myself. I arch and ache at the ‘once upon a time’ scenario.
I’ve been told by many that I don’t stand a chance with a ‘real’ relationship. A ‘real’ relationship would require giving of one’s self and understanding that identity is part of the process.
As the Twilight begins to open, I wonder about my mother and me. Our sordid relationship. She is just out of reach, just one Clonapin short of stealing my identity.