In which the blog-o-thete deals with issues that the readers have spewed forth.
"Are you married?"
Simple answer: No.
Convoluted response: between 1982 and 1985 this blogger was hitched to woman whose chief joy in life seemed to be painting her nails while watching Solid Gold with her friends. I smoked in the garage at those times. We divorced, and she ended up marrying a banker. It was probably a perfect match.
In 1989 I met Savage Kitten. Who moved in with me in 1994. She broke off our relationship in 2010. We still live together -- she has her own room -- because in San Francisco you do not bail out on apartment mates you trust around your stuff. The alternative is rent three times higher and a drugfreak as co-renter. Or a schizophrenic crackhead.
Yeah, it's inconvenient. No casual affairs, and I'm resigned to only ever conceivably allowing THE ONE into the apartment.
Whom I haven't met yet.
On the plus side, she's dating some dude in a wheelchair, who cannot visit because of the hillside or the stairs.
I never have to meet him.
I'm fine with that.
It might get sticky if I ever end up with another snoogums.
We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
"What's that in your bed?"
"It's a snoogums."
"Oh."
At some point perhaps a sleeping snoogums would have to be introduced; "miss Savage Kittem, meet miss Wong."
"How do you do?
"Yawn... lovely, thank you.".
And back to sleep.
I'll have to explain that we reviewed scripture together. Until the wee hours. Yes, that's it. No, I do not know why she's simply wearing pale green panties and a man's shirt several sizes too large.
Or very naughty dark stockings.
It's a total mystery.
Next question.
"Uncle Atboth, are you a pervert?"
Why yes, I'm glad you asked!
I am clean, upstanding, and quite hamsap.
I hide it well, because I am given to bathroom insanity.
Hers. Then mine.
Okay, that's quite enough questions.
Tune in later for more stuff.
Mir seinen farklempt.
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2 comments:
Wow, you were married!
Yep. It wasn't my finest hour.
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