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        Friday, May 09, 2008

    Let's Blow This Pop-stand...

    ...and put this blog to bed, shall we?

    The wife is snoring softly in her bed, the kids are out like lights, and I tire of existence, and wish to go slip into dreamland. It is a familiar, comforting place for me, even when it drips blood.

    What a day, eh? Death, Mexican food, and Spongebob Squarepants. Surreal. Had some kick-ass rice pudding, too. Several feet to go before I sleep. Hope I can navigate them.
    Tired, tired, tired....simulating emotion exhausts me. Don't let the wife read this.
    I mean, I love her, as the deer pants for the water. But I don't care a whit about the bullshit.

    Oh, I write about it, you people read about it...I report, you decide. How you want to feel. If you want to feel. Why you want to feel. Doesn't mean I felt anything. Just means I bossed the alphabet around and made it form up in a certain way. Today, I was sad, because she was sad, so I made some of you sad.

    Sorry. And I actually mean that. I am trying to learn.

    I can hardly believe that I have spent my entire life playing various roles. And believing I was whatever role I was playing. Past programming, and all that rot.
    This blog may be some sort of atonement...more likely, a chronicle of my sins, and as I always say, A Cautionary Tale.

    Anyway, zapped a big-ass wolf spider in the bathroom tonight, made Nat go upstairs with the lights off or risk doom (I didn't shriek 'WITCHES!' at her this time) (even though that is always good for a hearty laugh) and pulled the wife's clothed crotch into my face and breathed hot breath through her pants and made her nearly collapse, as she grabbed the back of my head and moaned, and I promised her a good shagging tomorrow.

    She came in the house from work this afternoon, much earlier than usual, with boxes and bags of food, and certain unmentionable medical supplies. That might come in useful. Sometime.

    Surprised, I asked her when she had had a chance to go shopping? She explained that she and her partner cleaned out the refrigerator of the dead client, and removed every sign of the decay of the loved one from the still extant loved ones. As a matter of course, and courtesy. Up to and including the soiled sheets and whatnot.

    I burst out laughing, genuine belly-laughing guffaws, and she wondered what the fuck was wrong with me? Out loud. I explained my earlier post about Sin Eaters, in Wikipedia detail, and then I brought her up here to read the posts I have written on this event, today, and yesterday.

    Finally the dam broke, and as she read over my shoulder, she soaked my shirt with tears. At least I hope they were tears.

    Can't wait to munch on those Fig Newtons tomorrow.