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2005-12-22 - 6:24 p.m. ibishkabibble this one time, at band camp... oh yeah, Alison (or is it Alyson), as Elvis Costello said... and the Moody Blues, you know what love can do to you... I remember my own versions of band camp (I was dishwasher at a upstate New York camp called Camp Edward Isaacs {I'm not sure who Edward Isaacs was, except that I am pretty sure he was Jewish, for what that bit of trivia is worth}... the job paid and got me out of the city for more than two months and many friend and my girlfriend at the time went up to work there and it was definitely one of the best summer ever, but I am digressing just to amuse and stimulate my carnal fantasies with images of some movie stars playful personalities and flirtations, but this entry is about comments... yes more comments, yay)... I finally got back to commenting on your comments and as usually, I found myself rambling on into entry length babbling so below you shall find my responses to the comments of the entry before last and the last entry (two rather different entries, I think)... meanwhile, as you see by the dates, I am still a day behind... on the plus side, time is fun to play with and I still have several entries awaiting final babbling and upload... at least two of which are the long awaited next (fourth, I believe) 200+ Things entry based on my dear nicim's 101 Things... on the surface, I'd say the delay is mostly because I haven't had the quiet time to focus seriously (or even irreverently) on an introspective list entry, no less a responsive list... deeper down, I know I wanted cutething to have more than a precious and few moments to be the current 202 Things cuz she is so dang cute (even sticking her tongue out at mentions like that) and has such a brilliant sexy mind (and seriously deeply inspiring)... and check the other Things lists over on the left too... so we have more profound revelations about life behind the candoor to look forward to and more to look back upon and now, more of this moment to reflect on this recent habit of repeating my responses to comments here in entries (with collaborative elaborations and other odd window dressings that secretly tell more than the main event entries ever might, but don't tell cuz then it wouldn't be a secret, wink wink)... of course by now you may have figured out that I tease myself with sarcasm on a regular basis, especially when I suggest I have anything to hide or keep secret... about me, at least... your secrets are treasures I will never share unless you tell me it's ok to share them, but me, I'm naked as a blue bird (or blue jay, or ribin, or finch even) as I flap my wings out here in words before you... don't get too turned on, I mean, unless you are on my libido list or are gonna inspire me to run another marathon... remember, I am potent, use me with care... anyway, all subliminal drug references aside, the comments are coming the comments are coming, so put this in your pipe and smoke it: phew, I started this at least a few times in the past two days... sleep swallowed me each time... so try try again and... yes definitely appearances matter but only on the surface and not when it comes to who I choose as friends or family... I think that's the most important point we can make... obviously I was responding to smash in the first few paragraphs of comments above and I'm not exactly sure what sort of monster was started by our hair discussion, but I love the fact that I can so easily wander around my mind and tease myself and others as I converse with him... and I kinda thought the segue I made into my response to boann's comment was just too typical of me and my sense of 'let's all stare at the ceiling and move along as if nothing happened' humor so it should not have been interrupted... I mean, would you want to insert extra brush strokes on the Mona Lisa?... and we can all ask (about me) now, is he serious?... and special thanks to our guest star, hairplay, who truly does turn me on in places I do not visit on my own because those places take an outside visual stimulus that tweaks my libido just right, as she does most well, so well, ahh... oh well... before I start waxing poetic (or degenerate into more perverse ponderings about the ridiculous suggestion that I might ever be found humping the screen), I shall remain child friendly, sort of, and continue with the comments... Pf, darling, you are so wonderfully strange (still grinning)... RW = Real World?... I hate to burst a fantasy bubble (so look away if you don't want me to), but I've never been on RW or TV or radio, even (stage, some, but not much there either... I've performed many times on the beach for the stars and ocean and seagulls and a select few friends and strangers passing by)... I'd like to believe I am virile and sensual and hot with capital letters and an exclamation point, but I live in this body and find it quite unappealing at the moment... foolishly, I wait for someone to take my hand and lead me back along marathon trails, vigorous workouts, and wild sexual escapades... of course I know I should not wait or depend on someone else to inspire me to sculp the optimal physical me, but I've been there and done that for myself, always the strong one, the motivator, the leader of the pack (vroom vroom) and am in a lazy mode these days wondering if I will ever know the feeling of, as Olivia Newton John once sang, letting someone else be strong... yes, another who brings out the playful trust in me, pfirsich inspires me to let my freak flag fly (or is that ego?... lower?... what pocket?... yes, I am happy to see you... where's that ceiling?... everybody whistle nonchalantly now and as Bill Cosby said so humorously, walk away passively and stiffle the giggles, we've got respect, after all... giggle... and then, it's always exciting to get a comment from one of my internet heros, or heroine's in this case (and could she ever be heroin, ah...), so everybody jump up and down with me and get all googly-eyed as we visit with the one and only Clarity (and her amazing hubby, who, coincidentally, just cut his hair... and the muses all laugh at the comic connections)... and just to prove I am genuinely egocentric and ever so popular with the in=crowd and true Diaryland elite (at least one of them), I include my casual conversation in comments with her right here cuz I am just that cool (squeeee lol lam :) dear dear Clarity, it's so wonderful to hear from you (as I've said many times, you are a precious presense for me on this internet and your blush just adds to the genuine beauty of your literary persona and the honest way you share yourself and your life in words)... I so hope, someday, to find what you and Eric have... the rest of you are welcome here too, and I wish I had my house with tons of extra space like I did in the nineties so I could easily say you've got a guest room, but if you don't mind the floor (we'll vacuum the carpet) or the old couches (we've got clean sheets) and tripping over each other, we've got shelter... though I'd probably enjoy getting out of here even more than having visitors here cuz even camping in a tent (I have a tent) would be a great change from the day to day sameness... and if you're really rich, then don't slum it, get a ritzy hotel room at the theme parks or on the beach and I'll visit you (devious invitation, isn't it? :) onward through the comments, I am finding myself relating more and more to Sandyz's words and find myself demanding that I read her more, which is a good thing... and yes, I mean noddding off... love that Freud... Sandyz, you inspire me with your words in so many ways... thank you for being here... I relate too well to the lack of time or rest due to working too much (and trying to convince myself that I'll see results in extra savings and find time to enjoy the money someday)... that's probably one big reason I spend so much time writing and reading on the net, because it's easier physically and I can fall asleep doing it... there aren't many activities we can do while nodding off in the midst of it (why do I hear women everywhere rolling their eyes and thinking about their men? :) Moo! (not just any moo, but yes The-Moo! who deserves every glowing word I can put together about her)... dear moo, beacon of love and life across the water (and yes, I just might be that madman Elton sang about once upon a time)... your love is anything but just love... your love is precious and few... your love is something to cherish... your love is pure and unabashed and honest and true and real... your love is beautiful, just like you :) then came IT... not Cousin It, though I sense family there... come to think of it, I can comb my hair forward and give that Cousin It look, but that's besides the point... hair hair hair, in your face hair, that's what I've got, love it or at least it a lot or leave it alone, yeah, nevermind... I have such a distracting head... well, IT is itineration, actually, but I tend to abbreviate names in comments, usually down to two letters... it (lol, you are IT!), itineration... if you have the means (and haven't already), take some pics of the hair (just from the back if you want to go faceless)... it sounds great... I was never happy with myself or life when I tried to hide my feelings even a little and I did try for noble reasons, because the person I'd have died for (and did) asked me to... it blew up in my face because as blissful as it was to have two adorably wonderful beautiful sexy hot girls all to myself, I was not happy with myself pretending even a little... and that goes for the rest if you to, cuz even you are going nowhere, the secret to happiness is learning to enjoy the journey... that's good have fun out there J
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