No Title
I gotta keep it real, transparent, you know... I want my life to be an open book with no secrets from anyone. I don't want the shit to go down one day and have anyone say that they never saw it coming, or they didn't know I had it in me, or that they just didn't know...
Some people would be frightened by this, maybe see it as a lack of personal identity, but au contrairie mon frair... Dude, it is so much like opening a map of the united states, a big ass map... I mean, you know, there it all is, right there in front of you, all of it, but the details, dude, it's the detail you get lost in... That... That is how I wanna roll...
And I wanted to tell you, I was gonna kiss this girl in the parking garage here on the 1100 block of wherever the hell I am... I was gonna kiss her and make her my secret Canadian Girlfriend. We would kiss, oh so sweet, just me and her, in the shadow of the viaduct. We would hold hands and talk about the Tragically Hip. Talk about how fantastic Hockey is but secretly admit too each other that we don't really watch hockey or know who is really good right now. I would talk about how I always wanted to be Canadian and she would tell me how great it is to BE Canadian... It was gonna be all hush hush, you know, 'cause I got me a wife and she gots herself a boyfriend she's been with for a long time but it doesn't really seem to be progressing.
But you know, the problem with this is that she doesn't really exist, not at all... there ain't no secret Canadian girlfriend, only an imaginary secret Canadian girlfriend... which is actually perfect, because I have a feeling she was going to start getting a little clingy, maybe a little crazy and could have concievabley started calling my house and hanging up or generally threatening my marriage... goddamn psycho imaginary secrect Canadian girlfriend!!!
I never wanted the world from her, just a little lunchtime diversion, why'd she have to cross that line...
So I had to nip it in the bud, stop it before it started... So I just stopped and you know, didn't imagine her... it was a clean break... better for both of us...
It is sad, kinda, really, you know... I was going to have this conversation in a more intimate surrounding, hanging out, cuddlin' on the couch with some cute long haired Chinese boy with a ponytail and smooth hairless back... but you know, you can accidentally maybe bump legs while you're sitting on the couch, touch feet under the table, just for a second, until you realize it's not the table leg, but you can't cuddle on the couch, really, you can't, no matter how good a friends you are... Dude, not even if you are gay... For serious, if you are a couple of dudes, and you are cuddlin' on the couch (or perhaps a nice puffy pappasan chair) you have to be in a relationship... committed or about to be committed... you can't just chill and kinda lean into your buddy and kinda do that thing with your fingers where they intertwine/rub and its all cool... not around here, no way... it ain't done, and it can't be done... and it is a shame... no scary movies, no tender moments where you are being all emotional and shit and just need to be held...
Because, if you do, eventually you are gonna end up bumpin cocks, or peein together and crossin' streams like in ghost busters and think it's really fuckin funny...
Sigh, you know, it's just that I am gettin' tired of this... I love my job, you know, but I hate it... I hate it, hate it, hate it... but it ain't so much that I hate my job as much as I wish I was doing something different... Something like beating through the deep bush, spanking monkeys and eating exotic fruits... Something that me and my old lady could do together... I always wanted to be one of those dudes... shoot, what are they called, not missionaries... Peace Corps, yeah, wanted to be one of those dudes in the Peace Corps, going exotic places and showing the aboriginals how to bath and build bridges and shit... cover up their secret parts, you know... someplace exotic like Finlandia or Turkey... someplace with a beach and bamboo or something, make one of those swiss family Robinson kinda showers and get malaria because I was having sex on the banks of some river and a mosquito bit me on the ass... You know what I mean, really make a difference in the world... and get mud spackled in the crack of my ass... stuff like that...
I look out the window here and think about this all the time... I have even done research, but apparently you need skills or something, something beyond just the desire to help people and have sex on beaches or banks of rivers or something...
You know, I would settle for just being able to go sit in a bar and smoke... Yeah yeah yeah, I said it... perhaps it makes me a hipocrite, or a psychopath or something, but I would like nothing better to go and sit in a bar, with a pitcher of beer and maybe a shot of something or other, playing darts and smoking... for hours on end...
Or dude, sit outside on the stoop, outside a party, and have a couple smokes while you spend some time catching up with someone you haven't seen in a while, or someone you just met and may not have anything much in common with except the desire to go outside and have a smoke and have someone to talk to while you do it...
I mean, it is probably not as great as I remember, but then, it probably is... sitting down for a cup of coffee and a smoke to jump start my heart... it sounds fantastic...
How's all that for transparent, eh? You know, my secret Canadian Girlfriend, she would be about 5'6" and look pretty much like my wife, except blond and medium length permed or wavy hair... I mean, really, if I were to imagine her, it would really just be my wife that I was sneaking off into the parking garage with and secretly kissing and hoping that my wife wouldn't find out. It's complicated, but really... How could I resist? and she's a good kisser and has a super butt...
Some people would be frightened by this, maybe see it as a lack of personal identity, but au contrairie mon frair... Dude, it is so much like opening a map of the united states, a big ass map... I mean, you know, there it all is, right there in front of you, all of it, but the details, dude, it's the detail you get lost in... That... That is how I wanna roll...
And I wanted to tell you, I was gonna kiss this girl in the parking garage here on the 1100 block of wherever the hell I am... I was gonna kiss her and make her my secret Canadian Girlfriend. We would kiss, oh so sweet, just me and her, in the shadow of the viaduct. We would hold hands and talk about the Tragically Hip. Talk about how fantastic Hockey is but secretly admit too each other that we don't really watch hockey or know who is really good right now. I would talk about how I always wanted to be Canadian and she would tell me how great it is to BE Canadian... It was gonna be all hush hush, you know, 'cause I got me a wife and she gots herself a boyfriend she's been with for a long time but it doesn't really seem to be progressing.
But you know, the problem with this is that she doesn't really exist, not at all... there ain't no secret Canadian girlfriend, only an imaginary secret Canadian girlfriend... which is actually perfect, because I have a feeling she was going to start getting a little clingy, maybe a little crazy and could have concievabley started calling my house and hanging up or generally threatening my marriage... goddamn psycho imaginary secrect Canadian girlfriend!!!
I never wanted the world from her, just a little lunchtime diversion, why'd she have to cross that line...
So I had to nip it in the bud, stop it before it started... So I just stopped and you know, didn't imagine her... it was a clean break... better for both of us...
It is sad, kinda, really, you know... I was going to have this conversation in a more intimate surrounding, hanging out, cuddlin' on the couch with some cute long haired Chinese boy with a ponytail and smooth hairless back... but you know, you can accidentally maybe bump legs while you're sitting on the couch, touch feet under the table, just for a second, until you realize it's not the table leg, but you can't cuddle on the couch, really, you can't, no matter how good a friends you are... Dude, not even if you are gay... For serious, if you are a couple of dudes, and you are cuddlin' on the couch (or perhaps a nice puffy pappasan chair) you have to be in a relationship... committed or about to be committed... you can't just chill and kinda lean into your buddy and kinda do that thing with your fingers where they intertwine/rub and its all cool... not around here, no way... it ain't done, and it can't be done... and it is a shame... no scary movies, no tender moments where you are being all emotional and shit and just need to be held...
Because, if you do, eventually you are gonna end up bumpin cocks, or peein together and crossin' streams like in ghost busters and think it's really fuckin funny...
Sigh, you know, it's just that I am gettin' tired of this... I love my job, you know, but I hate it... I hate it, hate it, hate it... but it ain't so much that I hate my job as much as I wish I was doing something different... Something like beating through the deep bush, spanking monkeys and eating exotic fruits... Something that me and my old lady could do together... I always wanted to be one of those dudes... shoot, what are they called, not missionaries... Peace Corps, yeah, wanted to be one of those dudes in the Peace Corps, going exotic places and showing the aboriginals how to bath and build bridges and shit... cover up their secret parts, you know... someplace exotic like Finlandia or Turkey... someplace with a beach and bamboo or something, make one of those swiss family Robinson kinda showers and get malaria because I was having sex on the banks of some river and a mosquito bit me on the ass... You know what I mean, really make a difference in the world... and get mud spackled in the crack of my ass... stuff like that...
I look out the window here and think about this all the time... I have even done research, but apparently you need skills or something, something beyond just the desire to help people and have sex on beaches or banks of rivers or something...
You know, I would settle for just being able to go sit in a bar and smoke... Yeah yeah yeah, I said it... perhaps it makes me a hipocrite, or a psychopath or something, but I would like nothing better to go and sit in a bar, with a pitcher of beer and maybe a shot of something or other, playing darts and smoking... for hours on end...
Or dude, sit outside on the stoop, outside a party, and have a couple smokes while you spend some time catching up with someone you haven't seen in a while, or someone you just met and may not have anything much in common with except the desire to go outside and have a smoke and have someone to talk to while you do it...
I mean, it is probably not as great as I remember, but then, it probably is... sitting down for a cup of coffee and a smoke to jump start my heart... it sounds fantastic...
How's all that for transparent, eh? You know, my secret Canadian Girlfriend, she would be about 5'6" and look pretty much like my wife, except blond and medium length permed or wavy hair... I mean, really, if I were to imagine her, it would really just be my wife that I was sneaking off into the parking garage with and secretly kissing and hoping that my wife wouldn't find out. It's complicated, but really... How could I resist? and she's a good kisser and has a super butt...
Labels: doin' it, Love my Wife, secret canadian girlfriend
posted by Catfish at 9:02 AM
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