I'm not gonna pay that much for that muffler

I run out of books once in a while and if I’m feeling rather cheap I will not buy a new book until I see something I think I just have to read. I am at that point today and don’t have but two very uninteresting books that will do nothing but waste a few hours off my Life. The good news is I bought these books at the Goodwill for next to nothing, hardcover again. The bad news is I was probably still recycling the drinks from the night before when I made said purchases ‘cause these books suck!

I already wasted a good 6 or so hours reading the biography of Jacqueline Susann. It looked like a good idea at the time of the purchase. Don’t ask why but it did and I bought. Did I learn something from this book? Well, yeah- that some people will justify just about anything after you die, they will create good reasons for your shitty behavior in Life and gloss over every fuck up in your Life as long as you are dead.

She was crazy the woman; in denial of being Jewish ‘cause it was much cooler to be Catholic- I guess she hadn’t heard about the priests gallivanting with their underage parishioners at that point. She was a firm believer in fucking anyone other than her husband, especially glam girls and drunken comedians and short fat producers and a lot of other people that I lost track of, so many names, and so many dicks. And the rather crazy part was that the whole biography makes it sound as if good ol’ Irving, the husband, didn’t know she was fucking ½ of New York, ¾ of Hollywood and 1/8 of Philly. And reportedly she didn’t even like sex. How’s that for being proficient at something you don’t like?

I have this other book, A Very Private Woman, about one woman in DC who was rumored to be one of President Kennedy’s affairs. It said something about her being very bored throughout her Life and her alleged contacting the guy who developed LSD so she could have her private stash. I guess it’s nice to have connections. Then again, maybe not since she was murdered and her murder remains unsolved to date.

So I am left with very few options when I am up here in Charlotte during the week. I contemplate going out somewhere, maybe the pub down the street or the bar that allows you to bring your dog- I’m sure my poor, bored she-dog would much appreciate canine companionship but that means I’ll probably have to make friends with her canine companion’s owner and I’m just not up for much socializing in the Queen City y’all. I know- I need to get over that- but I have my own ways of justifying my behavior here you see, I am saving money by shutting myself in every week night- plus my liver thanks me every day Monday morning thru Friday early evening. The liver stops talking to me in friendly tones at promptly drinking time Friday nights.

Which brings me to my point for this entry, I now have access to someone’s non password wireless connection nights at home so I can check out these blogs I’ve made part of my reading every once in a while. And I am finding lately, a lot of them talking about dating and people using dating services and online sites and such. I do not understand this. I read it, I break it down mentally but I do not understand the concept of the ads and the paid dating services. I mean there are so many annoying people in your daily Life that get introduced to you live and for free so why pay for this? Why can’t you just find out that they suck and that they are not qualified to be your partner in anything live?

I was reading this one blog from a DC chick and I guess for minute there she thought she had a boyfriend and then he told her he’d been doing other people even while she was doing him. And now it’s over and she sounds surprised and hurt. Why she’s surprised I don’t know. This scenario isn’t any different from how people behave when you meet them live and or for free. Trust me I know, I think the problem comes in when people hook up and just assume that the recipient or purveyor of the penis is doing them only.

But that is so not the case. I don’t get that either but it is true. I gather that the way to circumvent that from happening is to actually have a discussion about it before getting into bed to do the actual fornication. I mean, assuming you trust the person somewhat and trust that this person with whom you are about to fornicate so that your sexual being doesn’t shrivel up and die, will tell the truth (and if you don’t somewhat trust anything coming out said person’s mouth then why in the hell are you trusting that person with your invaluable gift?) You can always skip the interview but then don’t act surprised or hurt when you find out that the person is actually more sexually exposed than you thought possible. I don’t know where these little manwhores find the time to do all these chicks but they do, they do. And vice-versa- I know, but since I actually don’t do girls like that my observations are biased to include guy’s behaviors mostly. So either the question is asked- and if the answer is “yes I am fornicating frequently and with numerous peoples” and you are not happy with that and/or you cannot “share” then- bypass the fornication and find someone else or resort to your trusty self. But you can’t be genuinely hurt, you just can’t, or you shouldn’t anyway.

Maybe I need a break from reading these blogs or maybe I need to switch to blogs with different content. Maybe I need to get back to work.

Callate!

I am so tired of everyone talking, writing and discussing the heat. Yes! I know it’s hot, thanks for pointing that out. If you hadn’t gotten yourself so used to fake cold air you wouldn’t be suffering so much. Deal with it and stop talking about it. It messed up your hairdo? That’s terrible! It made you break out like an unwashed juvenile? So sad.

I know some of you work physically demanding jobs and running around in the heat sucks. I also know wearing a suit in this weather sucks as well, but stop incessantly whining about it, it’s not gonna make the sun any less hotter. Write about something else already I’m tired of visiting my favorite blogs and reading about “oh, my a/c broke, oh I have Ass Swamp, oh it is really hot.”

Just wait ‘till winter though, then my whining begins: “It is so cold. I am freezing my balls off. Hypothermia just kicked in- I felt it on my left toe. I think I’m dead and living in Siberia.”

Old & Unnecessary?

I went on a shopping spree the other day- no; nothing that extravagant it all took place at the local Goodwill store. They had nothing I wanted except for a few books I paid cents on the dollar for- hardcover too! My Life is so exciting at times- how do I stand it all?

I had been running short on reading material and decided that rather than racking up a huge bill @ Barnes or Borders or other very expensive book stores here in lovely Charlotte I should buy used books to last me for the next month or so. So I did. Problem is- I think I read all I was really interested in reading. Some of the books I bought I bought because I thought I needed to expand my genre. I bought books such as the autobiography of Gloria Vanderbilt, five pages into it I started skipping around to see if there was going to be anything interesting in it. What the hell? So her mother sucked. She had an evil aunt and she fucked up a lot at a very young age under the guise of matrimony. Whooping fucking hoo! Am I supposed to feel sorry for her, cry for her on the inside or what? Her first husband used to call her fat or something- that’s extremely painful- I know I hate it when people call me fat even if they are right. Still- so what? Stories like that don’t grab me, they make me mad- mad that stories worth hearing/reading get published/grabbed/paid for on a much lesser scale than do these “pity-me-tell-all-stories.” I know, I know. Augusten Burroughs said that “sadly horrendous” stories are easier and better to read- like staring at a wreck. I have no time for these self-pitying fools.

I also bought the autobiography of Hillary Clinton and a book called Jewish War, neither of which I have opened yet. Instead I read When you look like your passport photo it’s time to go home. Although I have yet to start my traveling career, I liked reading Erma Bombeck; I remember hearing about her as I was growing up but her humor was beyond me as I had neither children to rear nor a husband to “take care of.” I find her funny and witty- a combination I much admire and somewhat envy. I may have to buy some of her other books to get more acquainted with her writing style. Am I getting old or what?

Not that getting older is a bad place to be or anything. Did I tell you I’m like wine? (And not the cheap kind if you were wondering). Getting older has its rewards; I now own lots of pieces for a more festive wardrobe if you will; pieces with lots of sequins, lots more loud colors. I now buy more sensible shoes too- I haven’t reached special-order-orthopedic-shoes, but give me time is all I ask. I also question my athletic abilities and no longer show up at athletically taxing events untrained and ready to go. I find myself simply skipping those and quickly justifying my absence to anyone who’ll listen. I’ve also attempted delving into the budgeting world full force lately- seems I’m too lazy to master that right now. But I’m trying to cut all unnecessary expenses, which is proving rather difficult, just today I wasted $6.75 for Talladega Nights. I did save though- I used my ancient student I.D. card.