I'm So Ronery - The Lion, The Witch & Aw Fawk Bein' Cleaver

I have abandonment issues - stemming from adoption I suspect. The loving wife has left my sorry arse to head to the other side of the country for a week. My pal SAGA is in the same deserted vaginal vessel, in fact our divine dames are both in the same bloody province… but his left him for a month (!) – Imagine the tissue he’s going through – like the old add says “softens the blow”. Due to a “situation” at work, SAGA and I are both working 12 hour days, 6 days a week – this is week four (weak for? Because I work too bloody much). The prolific blogmaster – blogmeister – blogsterbater (?) of the No Fun Club is also high atop the city streets in our cement tomb, surrounded by the picketing undead, a shut in like the rest of us corporate colostomy bags, but he uses his blog space to document his feelings of imprisonment. Me, I have abandonment issues and I’ve filled my bag. NURSE!

So I come home to an empty house. Quiet. I can actually hear the bubbles in my beer. For some reason I feel the need to reach out and call a friendly friend, is it to reaffirm contact with a person outside of myself (why not, eh?) or is it to break the stone silence? Whatever the reason, I don’t do it. There’s porn in my mailbox (shock!), thanks Meatloaf. He sends me the worst stuff imaginable – the Japanese better watch out, the Russians are coming! The Russians are coming for their Carnal Crown of Crazy Kinks – I met a Russian girl at work today, I wonder how I’ll work my knowledge of kinky Ruskies into a konversation. Two of our friends have returned from a houseboat trip through the Okanogan Valley, they wore Speedos – I’m uncomfortable, back to the sperm-mail. Geez, did you know that when John Wayne died his bowels weighed well over 50 pounds due to a collection of sludge therein? Man, it’s enough to make you want to stop eating people.

Hey, that’s cool, my mom hooked up with one of her bridesmaids from 30 some odd years ago (I try to forget what I know about bridesmaids and continue reading). I’m impressed, usually after a few years I tire of people so mercilessly that I cut them loose like an albatross (reference #2 in one week – analyze and discuss) in what some might consider a cruel and callous manner. Let’s face it, people suck and not in a good way – spittle spatters (or matters?). A girl at work thinks that I have a twin in Vegas meaning that she slept with a guy who looks like me (she’s telling me that I’m cute, I consider buying her some new contact lenses). I tell her that I didn’t know that dad had ever been to Vegas. I call my dad a slut (now I'll find out if pops really reads this). What I won’t do for a laugh... on both counts.

I hate that my last post was so forced. Bettie Page rocks, deserves better and yet it was my most wearisome entry to date, tribute gone wrong – I should ask that Russian at work to tell me what REALLY goes on over there. If the wife was here she’d tell me that the Bettie post was good and I’d feel like I didn’t waste my time. But she’s not here – I realize once more what piece she brings to the neurotic nincompoop that tippity taps before you. Fatigue and flatulence – War & Peace. I should really get some sleep or perhaps I should watch Sin City again, either way I'll do it alone.

Yes I know that I spelled "Clever" wrong in the title, I was being cleaver.

iPod play "Southern Culture on the Skids - Drunk & Lonesome Again" while posting