It's been a pretty long time since I made any action with the express purpose of getting someone to sleep with me. I don't mean I'm not at all courting my Sportin' Jenny, but actually trying to suck in my gut or do a handspring or drink myself brain dead and still hold it ok or climb on the roof of something very tall.
No kidding. I really never got past 3rd grade where mating rituals are concerned. Except for the trying to get down a case of beer and look like I'm holding it well and the world is really not revolving in separate quadrants that are spinning in several directions - some of them on an entirely different plane of existence that has previously only been hinted at. That part is very grown up and I'm not ashamed of it. Though I've never been all that good at it - it's an effective mating ritual. Women will repeat ad nauseum that it is juvenile and brutish, but I promise you they will be impressed whether they want to or not. They can't help themselves. It's programed.
I mean lets be honest, I listen to almost nothing that women say. They lie and they don't have a clue they're doing it. Really. They don't know what they want. They can tell when they're getting a sniffle three weeks out- they're very in tune with their bodies, but emotionally, sometimes they cry and have no idea why. Women of the world: You have my sympathy.
I'm a little embittered this morning. Some evenings I go to bed with the aforementioned Jen and wake up alone. I know she sleeps poorly with the symphony of accompanying bodily noises I sometimes make, but I'm still not happy. This morning I woke up sweating and lonesome with the cats gone as last week.
Not the point. Very not the point. Neither is the 2/3 finished song from yesterday - but I wanted to get that in.
I'm free at last. I don't need to have everyone want to fuck me anymore. It's nice. I can finally relax. I'll take my shirt off and show you my gut. I'll wear the t-shirts I think are funny. Hell, I'll wear loafers with impunity. What? They're comfy. Look-I said comfy. I don't need to impress you anymore. I'm the old guy. I'm the clueless dork. I'm liberated.
And I'm really not that impressed with Firefox 3.