[robclassact]

Pounding Mirror Pond. Watching 30 Rock on Netflix. Chillaxin' in the chat. Enjoying the last couple months of bachelorhood.

Rob "Tina Fey looks amazing from the front and the back" Classact

God, I couldn't have planned this...

Pounding wine, watching 30 Rock on Netflix. Wife is out of town. Perhaps I should head over to the chat...

Rob "I'm still lovin' Tina Fey" Classact.

[Palomine]

I had a pleasant buzz going when I made my July 9, 2011 post at 3AM in this thread:

http://forum.bearchive.com/index.php/topic,9984697.0.html

...as I think anyone could tell.

[pedonbio]

.

[Palomine]

Preamble: I originally posted this about a week ago, and per the spirit of the thread, I was a bit sloshed at the time and in something of an introspective mood. It was online for a few hours before I sobered up just enough to realize that I'd better edit it to protect the innocent, since I'd made some perhaps-too-specific mentions of friends both online and offline. So, despite my stated intent to commit my UN-inhibitions to text verbatim, I've redacted a few bits and pieces in a gesture to discretion.

I apologize for not leaving it unedited, but it seems prudent given the realities. The edits were mostly harmless and more than enough remains to provide the gist of my rather sad ramblings.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Not me.

A friend's dog. We had dinner tonight. Again. Her and me, not the dog. He was there though. Of course.

So... the mutt's letting loose like a racehorse... a strong, steady stream that'd make any Modern Male Mammal (TM) of a certain age envious... he's practically shoulder-deep in the dense foliage, tail erect, staring at me with his third eye (not the pineal gland one... the other one) as his bladder empties post-haste.

I'm typing this on my laptop in bed a few minutes after-the-fact, in the dark with the cold night air coming in through the open window... a short walk home from aforementioned Nasturtiums. But I hereby pledge to not re-read or proof-read or spell check or otherwise tamper with these innebriated worlds (sorry... w o r d s) 'in post' given the premise of this thread. Jeez, how I detest that expression: 'in post' ...it provokes reverse peristalsis as surely as ipecac.

Stunningly clear here tonight... while walking the pooch in the hills after dinner you could see every single twinkling bulb from here to the other side of the basin a dozen miles away... if Catalina had high rises (which it thankfully doesn't yet, but give it a few more decades) you'd see them too. So, another day in LaLa land draws to a close. Not as bad a place to live as you might think: the mild sunny weather, organic farmer's markets and cultural/culinary diversity almost make up for the often demoralizing amount of traffic. Another typical day: paperwork, some pseudo-work-from-home phone-and-email (please KMN), assorted futile efforts to forestall entropy around the house and garden, etc... all fairly pointless per standard operating procedure. I do hereby and solemnly decree. Declare. Whatever.

I drank a wee bit more than is my habit tonight. Did I already say so? If I did, I apologize for the repetition. To maintain the buzz for the duration of this post, I'm having another (as if it were necessary) though my BAC has long-since-precluded driving or operating any heavy machinery. This old laptop probably qualifies, since it weighs as much as a Texas toddler. Really: you could do curls with this thing.

Following daily minutea, I proceeded to a scheduled appointment for a bit of online D&D-style roleplay, with someone for whom I feel a *genuine* personal affection despite the fact that I know such feelings are absolutely moot. That went on for maybe a couple of hours. It's a long, long time since I've been a DM but this is mostly improv (i.e.: no graph paper, multi-sided dice or painted lead figurines required) and we're merely in the moment, for whatever it's worth. I'm open to having more than ASCII between us... but it's (almost definitely) not in the cards. Actually seeing and/or hearing the person with whom you're conversing can and does make a world of difference. No more leetspeak conventions, emoticons or asterisks required... the crucial bits and pieces of body language, vocal inflection, gesture and expression... ALL those things we've so laboriously evolved to comprehend... all of those are gloriously present, instead of mere text splayed across the screen in surly, indifferent pixels.

Never going to happen of course, and we both know it. She exists as claimed and is all purported. Or not. Either way is moot... we're never going to talk, let alone meet. I'm content to play along and accept each interaction for what it's supposed to represent. Though they have the intended physiological effect on me, it's not merely the pixels... it's the *thoughts* expressed (both the endearing and the worrisome ones) that I've become disarmingly attracted to. I give her my full attention, and know I'm usually only getting half of hers at any given moment (if that).

Ah... "Palomine" you say... "what a pathetic tool you are... a sloppy **92** with a wifi laptop and no sense of discretion" ..."you *deserve* whatever misery you get, you SOB!" and frankly, I really can't disagree. I mean: seventeen-thousand-some-odd posts over the past decade-or-so, not counting a couple thou more before the big sysadmin fustercluck... "I mean really, what sort of person even types that much in an online forum, let alone foolishly expects to be understood, by relatively anonymous folks on the internets, no less? ...don't you know it's just a series of tubes you dumb fuck?!"

And you're right, of course.

Sitting here in bed, with no illumination other than the sickly glow of the ancient laptop backlight... not enough footcandles to even see myself in the oh-so-bad-Feng-Shui mirror at the end of the bed... I mean: really, what's the point?

(we interrupt this textual effluvia to bring you more CH3CH2OH)

Alright... get ahold of one's self. Your self. The self. Self.

OK.

Irony rears its ugly head (complete with feathered hair, oddly somehow completely devoid of irony): some of my online friends are perhaps placebos of sorts, insofar as emotions and urges are concerned. For quite a while now, I've been more-than-a-little enamored of yet another person. Like most 'people' met online, their chromosomal makeup remains unconfirmed but as is my nature, the benefit of the doubt is freely given. She's been uncommunicative lately... no idea why. Maybe something I said? Always a possibility, given my damn post count.

The last two 'offline' women I was inside of: I really couldn't have cared less. Over a year ago the last one (who made the "sex camel" joke?) ...one an ex and the other aspiring to be one... I mustered erections both times despite a profound lack of passion and as doG is my witness, no significant amount of body fluids were expelled. I don't even know why it got that far... I wasn't into it, but it was really late both times... they clearly wanted to... so, why be a fuckin' prude... just unzip and let slip the dog of war!

The room spins. It's *especially* perceptible when I close my eyes, fingers poised atop the home keys.

You see?!? This is what it's come to (no pun implied). Once in a blue moon, some pretty girl cajoles me outta my Levis and even then, it's for naught. What happened to the priapetic 'horndog' (as one ex's roomate declared) who wantonly and gleefully sucked and probed and flooded his SO's every orifice with high-IQ DNA at every possible opportunity? Does a man's libido diminsh that much in a lousy couple decades?

Apparently: yes. At least when handicapped by an excess of thought and possibly some sort of probably-long-undiagnosed depression.

Did I mention that the woman with whom I had dinner tonight is not uncute? And she's single. I've seen her nipples. You could tease them... holding them between your teeth and flicking them with the tip of your tongue... for ages. Though the idea appeals, I'll never do it... I enjoy her company but can't imagine a romantic relationship, so I keep the flirting to a minimum as a matter of policy and respect. I don't have to fuck a friend simply because they happen to have a uterus... further proof that I'm no longer a teenager (as if any were needed).

My oh-so-desirable RP friend: though the images are sometimes supect, I'm at least confident that the person on the other keyboard is female and really, isn't that the only prerequisite? And then the other one. I'm even more convinced of her gender and despite her proclivity for being MIA, I entertain this silly fantasy... that we might eventually meet and get to know each other offline. You think I'd know better, given the odds.

The bottle is perched on my Pectoralis Major, its neck ensconced in the nook formed by the bridge of my nose and cheekbone. I'm focused on the screen a couple feet past it, so it disappears completely, eluding depth-of-field like the forest for the trees... or something like that. Gah, I'm knackered.

Where was I?

Yes... that's right. The pointlessness. How sadly familiar.

Alright... back on message. Been a rough few years hypen decade. Having a nice wallow in the sty of self-pity while in my cups I suppose. But I digress.

OK: what was my point? Something about dogs? God, I miss mine. Life's not been the same since she died. No... something about something else. Let me take a moment to apologize for wasting your time... but in all fairness, you knew what this thread was about when you clicked the link, didn't you?

Yes you did you cheeky monkey!

Sorry, back on topic: sometimes it seems not all that unfar from Game Over. Either that, or a wee bit of good fortune for a change (I won't hold my breath as that'd only hasten the inevitable).

---

I am going to have such a headache in the morning, I kid you not. A possibly fatal hangover.

Apropos of nothing: some years ago, a young woman of my acquaintance wanted, and got, rhinoplasty. And IM(moot)O, her pre-surgery nose was by far her most appealing physical attribute. It made her unique and adorable. She obviously disagreed. Go figure.

---

I s w e a r to Baybee Jeebus...

Have at it, or not... as you see fit.

 

[gOOber]

 

[pedonbio]

gOOb, you know I have a weakness for Churchill quotes...

[MasterDragonfly]

Homebrew beer.

Master "'tis the season" Dragonfly

[robclassact]

Best part, **94** while my wife is at the desk across from me...also browsing illicit sites.

[Palomine]

A game?

I can only see to type if I close one eye or the other.

Jake the dog and Finn the human...

[pedonbio]

I got **92** at Universal Studios Orlando. Saw the Barney show... twice.
I recommend a four-drink minimum before seeing Barney, btw.

Preg(I'm not allowed in the Hard Rock Hotel anymore, either.)Nut

"I been 86'd from much classier joints than this!"

[HighSeasDrifter]

Freedom an' Whisky Gang Thegither

 

[Palomine]

After a hellaciously long day (literally up a tree on the top rung of a wobbling extension ladder hefting a corded Sawzall™ overhead to amputate hundred-plus-pound limbs) finally showerd and fed (fettucini alfredo from one of those survivalist/prepper packages that someone gave me... it was mediocre but filling) and lubricated (fourth drink atm) I am unsure of what this thread is meant for. I'm going to assume it's intended for posting while **92**.

I am exhausted and my back will be in agony tomorrow, but atm, all feels fairly ok... thanks to the booze mostly (Newcastle Brown Ale for the most part, plus a big glass of a decent Pinot Grigio from Trader Joe's).

But I am also loose. How loose? Loose enough that while scarfing my mushy pasta and channel surfing, happening across Faux Nooz's Red Eye, I spied (yet again) one Ms. Ann Coulter, looking like a leggy Skeletor... oddly on the *left* side of the table.    And, thanks to my BAC, I indulged in a fleeting fantasy that I could 'cure' her with a steady diet of BBQ, affection, auto/appliance repair, semen, dinners with her friends and espresso.

Don't get me wrong... even in my innebriated state I'm *fully* aware that her arch-conservative-harpy thing is her bread and butter... it's what she does. And I'm not generally attracted to gaunt, emaciated blondes with cheekbones so sharp you could injure yourself on them (gimme an apple-cheeked sweetie any day and four times on Sunday ). But in my state, it seems as if love and body fluids and good food could help her.

I'm hopeless... I know. 

[robclassact]

While I'm technically breaking the rules of this topic/game by sober-posting, chances are I'll be **92**-posting here one week from today.

Rob "wife's going on a business trip" Classact

[robclassact]

While I'm technically breaking the rules of this topic/game by sober-posting, chances are I'll be **92**-posting here one week from today.

Rob "wife's going on a business trip" Classact

Just as the prophet foretold.

Rob "She gone." Classact