Friday, February 16, 2007

So Strange I Can't Pass it Up

Between now and July 1...
  • I will not look at the cost of flights.
  • I will go to the airport early to see if I can fly standby on an earlier flight.
  • I will wire the landlord an advance for the apartment I am renting, to make sure that I have a place to stay in case I am a victim of the law of averages again.
  • I will not take my computer with me this year.
  • I will remember to put a clean shirt and pair of underwear in my carry on, in case my luggage goes missing again.
  • I will not purchase that wide angle zoom lens since I need money to pay for my $1286.30 plane ticket.
  • I will, however, order the CDMA/GSM phone with AC & European power adapters, so J can stop worrying about me wandering European streets alone.
In other news I had an interesting IM exchange with a co-worker this afternoon. Due to the nature of my employment, my schedule has been crazy and I will have 20 hours of overtime this pay period by the end of the day tomorrow.

I am hoping that the lack of sleep is the reason why W decided to tell me that her husband had “fallen off the porn wagon again”. In the context of her recent admission that one of her previous jobs was data entry at a porn distributor, I could not help but wonder where she met her husband and how she defines falling off the porn wagon. Did he fall a little bit off, as in cracking open a Playboy and claiming he was reading the articles? Did he rent a video? Go on a bender and buy out the store? Does he have a serious addiction that requires therapy?

I am flummoxed.

2 comments:

  1. Excellent planning there. Of course, I would break each one of those pleges very quickly.

    Maybe your co-worker's husband was on a hayride with a bunch of porn stars and some magazines and stuff and "fell of the porn wagon".

    Or maybe he owns a big van where he films some home made porn or where he goes to sit and watch/read porn all alone. And he was on top of it, washing it or something and feel off?

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  2. Be flummoxed not, O belletristic feline. Somebody probably forgot to clear the cache on the Web browser on a shared computer, is almost certainly whahoppen. Or possibly something on a credit- or debit-card statement couldn't be explained away. Prior work as a D/E drone at an ordering house would certainly help in identifying the latter, but I seriously doubt she met him through customer-service contact!

    I understand some gals expect their guys to abstain 100% from porn, for varying values of "porn" -- viewing it as competition or even adultery of a sort -- while others just shrug as long as their own sacktime isn't suffering. Such women even growl unfriendly growls when their guys pay too much attention to the latest Sports Illustrated swimsuit annual issue ('tis the season, come to think of it) in the checkout line at the grocery. Some other women, G*d bless 'em, use the imagery -- lavishly described scenarios (real or imagined), settings, poses, clothing, accessories (ahem), hairstyles, even lighting and hairdos -- as a springboard for all sorts of imitative and creative recreation: We Y-chromosome-bearing individuals think of the latter type as "angels come to Earth" and worship at their feet.


    This is probably one of those areas where couples who are becoming sexually active with each other need to communicate and synch up their values to mutually acceptable standards.

    Risking TMI here, as you've probably guessed who this is; afer all, who the hell else writes this way responding to your 'blog entries?:

    A certain someone in your anonymous correspondent's heretofore life rather vehemently endorsed the former, absolutist view yet, incredibly, kept certain collections of short stories ensconced in the headboard bookshelf -- apparently there was an undiscussed dichotomy between the impact and immediacy of visual imagery and the power of the printed word to elicit strictly internal fantasy. Ain't cognitive dissonance (if not outright hypocrisy) a gas?

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