Dick :s Missed a chick I was kind of truly looking forward to trying to see if we can chat some again....
Doesn't seem like Hermes is going to make it easy. First the Internet goes down, then comes back and still nothing for hours and then she writes she's waiting but *I*m not online, although I keep trying to breach and waiting for her to pick up... Oddly enough by any kind of sign that something shouldn't happen to me just feels like more foreplay and a sign that if I want something, I'm gonna have to go a little further to get it. After all, the things we want are the things that we are supposed to get after we show an effort, otherwise once we get them, they don't seem like worth all the thrill at all. *Takes a long breath... My that was a deep sentence :P* Mental note to really really *really* want my coffee :p
My neatly shaved private parts itch like you wouldn't believe. I can just imagine all those soft nice little curls of my muffin there to protect my interesting region suddenly being slashed and spiked into a million tiny arrows, all out to scrape my gentlest skin. I'm not saying sex isn't excellent, as of course it always is when you shouldn't be having it (but I still hate those ludicrous orgasms. It fucking feels like being centrifuged in rapids of boiling water.) I'm just saying OU... OU... OU...
I've thought a lot about pathology lately, probably because the babe I've been trying to reach is a med student and I don't really like the idea of being a doctor, because that's too hysterical and most people think doctors make diseases go away like magicians, failing to understand they're just mechanics who try to do their best. I don't mind knowing how things are supposed to work, but I am far more curious about why they stopped (when nobody is screaming at me to make it start again.) I suppose there's a certain calm and serenity to the person reduced to elements, a kind of dignity in the lack of vehement function beneath the skin that so many want to make seem ideal. I have a thing for the dead lately. Their bones AND the organs. Hm. Is that from when we slaughtered the pigs? (Slaughtering itself is beyond traumatic, but) once it was no longer a living thing but an amazingly logical complexity of organs and edible stuff, I found it compelling. I suppose because it was almost entirely intact, considering the killing was very quick and very clean, any other form of murder would bother me and I would want to make it whole again by solving their ultimate riddle.. I used to think being surrounded by the dead would be morbid and grotesque, but now I think it would be clean and righteous. Of course the General would never let me. I'm insane as it is. Gods know what kind of a freak I would be if I started preferring the company of corpses to my already marginally unusual friends.
About time I get a puppy. I'm starting to read less about geisha and Celt folk tales and more about bones and levity. (Have downloaded Dead Like Me as well, lol, without ever realizing the connection.) Ah, well. It's just a phase, it'll pass. I'll be back to trying to invent a good pineapple ice coffee in no time :P
General is resting, less apparently ill and far more worn out. It's scary, really, that between his lungs filling up with rotting mucus and killing him within days stands a handful of small pills and an Olympic swimming pool of tea. I try to download movies for him to watch, but can't seem to find one to hold his interest. Iron man 2 sucks and any movie *starring* John Travolta since Face Off is a blatant excuse for the man to behave like he's the inventor of cool any everyone else is there to praise him, thus completely unwatchable. We got though the first few minutes of From Paris with Love. I do like the chick's shoes, though. Neat curtain, too.
Okay... Have to get the icon design for a contractor done and then make pancakes and pudding for Piček and then rush uphill to help mum prepare Sunday lunch... I crave sesame somewhat awful suddenly! Can I make a sesame-flavoured coffee? Hm....
