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[sebastian_dangerfield]

Originally posted by the Spartan
Interesting theory Skeks, but wrong, as usual, depressively wrong.

Or maybe the depressive part is because it has been overcast and drizzly where I am for days now. Just when I thought a summer for me might be around the corner the weather goes south, sts, which may explain why I have the Smiths song, Suffer Little Children, running through my head in an infinite loop.

To be honest, it’s actually unusual for me to be down unless the weather is down. Ask Mario, the cubicle mate, in the sunshine I’m a chipper good news type of guy. Up with people. However I must make a confession, there are a few who know me well who have their own ideas of my jolly moods, but TMI. My rule of thumb on this board is I don’t give out too much information. World’s may collide but it ain’t gonna be here as my personal stats don’t really intersect with the cyberosity of this place. No offence.

Now you may define this is shyness or an incapacity for sexual honesty with my FBrethern, but I would prefer that you identify me as an anti-poser, because if I were to enter the one-manship contests of sexual braggadocio of some here I would either be a loser or liar and I vastly prefer the former to the latter or maybe I should say I have more experience with the former. After all, true confession, I remember since adolescence knowing the stinging reminders of being a little odd, phreakish, and perhaps anachronistic in my conservative sexual mores.

And as with my lurkish socking or sockish lurking here, I too well recall the many times since leaving my parents farm in Vermont to go to college in the big city up until, well last month, when the weather turned falsely, alluringly nice, spending hours hiding behind trees in parks or riding the bus around town just to surreptitiously leer at the young pretty women in their skimpy seasonal thigh high skirts and belly baring shirts. Summertime beauty. It’s like the thought of the new young summertime file clerk here in the office, my double secret imaginary girlfriend, and the lust inspiring smell of the floral shampoo that wafts off her hair when she scampers by my office, after which I have to lock the door for a few minutes. Ah happy times.

Anyway, I digress, what I wanted to share before I left for the evening was a dream I had this afternoon after lunch. Actually it was more of a hazy, eyes rolling into the back of my head, afternoon stupor daydream or a vision. In it I was tired of being straight and unfulfilled, so I made the decision to switch teams and come out as a lesbian. And in my new found sexual self I blatantly set my sights on seducing the young file clerk, who thereupon turned me down. Turns out she had a secret boyfriend. Mario. The cubicle mate. Fucker.

God, you managed to beat me for most senseless burning of syllables to make a five word point.

I need to get some.

Here's my advice - quit thinking and go find someone to fuck. It could rain icepicks and mucous for a month and I'd still feel allright as long as I was getting laid. Tends to work that way with humans.

Oh, and act on the lesbian thing.