Plane Crazy

Thursday, Mar. 07, 2002 ~ 10:25 PM

<< >>

Note to self: She is with Brenda and it's simply not polite to offer yourself to Her for a nice fuc*. And even though She'll laughingly decline it's still simply not polite... not.at.all. Where have my manners/reputation as a good girl gone?
I probably had them in the pocket of my pajamas which I gave to Kate [However, I�m convinced that it was a good trade].
This somehow reminds me of a passage from Juliette.
"'...never forget this: a good reputation is a valueless encumbrance. It cannot ever recompense us for what in sacrifice it costs us. She who prizes her good reputation is subject to at least as many torments as she who behaves neglectfully of it...'"
I'm using this console myself and to rationalize away why I feel so good about being so lewd in my offering. Of course, it's really not that simple as me just wanting a raucous roll in the hay. Because 1. hay is itchy and 2. in my mind it's hard to "make love" when only one of the parties involved is in love.

~~

I used to kid about wanting to have a stalker. About how it must on some levels be a great compliment to have someone (that you don't even know) devote such great interest and time to you. Of course, I was also thinking somewhere along the lines of me being a little bit more well known (famous or infamous).

But no! this is not the kind of luck that Andi has. I'm being e-stalked (god bless technology!) by a fighter pilot for the Egyptian Army. He began messaging me a couple of days ago and last night he told me that he loves me and misses talking to me.
Now, I fancy myself to be a brilliant conversationalist; but I must say that my end of our messaging sessions usually consist of me telling him that I'm either going to bed or out or that I have something pressing to do. My end of our messaging sessions always consist of me having to sign off quickly. The only reason that I responded to his message in the first place was to be polite.

Simone says that I should block him. My theory is this: he's crazy. Anyone to form such an attachment so quickly to someone that they know nothing about and will never meet and who never instigates conversation and always seems to have something better to do, is not a person of sound mind; and I make it my policy not to piss off the crazies. Especially the crazies which fly expensive military machinery with guns. So the moral of this story is: When wishing for stalkers always make sure to be very specific about the kind you'd like to have.

~

"But you're a fun sort of crazy."
-Mrs. McClellan, Katie's mother.

I've decided to take that as a compliment. I mean, how many people can actually say to army boy above, "you're a fun sort of crazy (with your big lethal military weapon)"? Then again, how many people would want to say that to him. Also, crazy runs in my family. Grandma's sister, Aunt Pearly Mae, is crazy. She's crazy and usually lives in California [because it's sooo normal there] but it appears that she's run away.

Andi: I want to meet Pearly Mae some day Mommy.
Mommy: Really? Why?
Andi: Well, she's crazy. And I just want to see what my future may hold in store.
Mommy: Well honey, you may get to.
Andi: She's coming to visit Grandma!?
Mommy: No. She's run away. Again.

Yup. I can proudly say that I've got a crazy Aunt on the loose. Again.
So, yeah; since Mrs. McClellan has so thoughtfully classified my type of craziness I�m going to do my damnedest to cultivate it. I plan on being retired and funnycrazy when I�m 50ish� not runaway-crazy. But I guess I have to hand it to Pearly Mae. If at first you don�t succeed: wait a couple of years, get even more crazy and then try again.

.
.
.
.

Right Foot In < < < < < < < < < > > > > > > > > > Right Foot Out

Now Shake it all about!

Last 5 Entries

How Rude! - Wednesday, Sept. 22, 2004 - 12:16 PM

One small step but no giant leap. - Tuesday, Sept. 30, 2003 - 11:17 AM

Where's George? - Thursday, Sept. 25, 2003 - 12:48 PM

Gypsy - Wednesday, Sept. 24, 2003 - 8:44 AM

I'm no Artemis. - Wednesday, Aug. 13, 2003 - 8:19 AM