O what a avalanche of wonderful memories your post brought forth, Outnfree. Some crushing, some exhilarating.
Yes, I’ve been a frequent visitor to Simon’s camp for JW refugees and his Special Olympics for X-Elders-- and sometimes, I admit, I haven’t been the best of boys.
I used to get into frequent bitch-slapping festivals with an alleged blonde who swore she became a registered psychiatrist by reading “Auto Mechanix.” She used to keyboard with a pencil taped to her forehead (And. It. Really. Showed). But you didn't hear it from me, OK?
I’ve moved on with my life, you see. I’ve been humbled. I now welcome all men as brothers & sisters. After a stint at the CIA, I was sentenced to attend the Gandhi School of Passive Solar Resistance and then I had to serve my time in an cold and cruel experimental penitentiary, where, like Alex in a Clockwork Orange, I was made to endlessly watch spread sheets and pop-up ads on my monitor.
Now Peace and Love sloppily adorn every door knob I grasp. (“Hot stuff -- Comin’ through!” -- life can be fun when ya' know the rules of the kitchen!) When slapped, I’ve learned to turn the other cheek -- especially when my dominatrix tells me too.
So, Outnfree, let us not look at what is behind us -- or those thick, cellulite covered thighs -- but let us press onward.
Yours in the work of further internet socialization,
Pete2
