I AM NOT EATING FOR TWO

There are very good reasons why you should never put ideas into the head of someone with Asperger's syndrome. The primary one being that once the idea is in there it might take a lot of effort to get it out again. Yesterday some dingo told me that I should liberate the child within.

"Come again?"

"Set it free. Let the child within you express itself!"

"What child within? I haven't eaten anything bad."

"You have a child within, don't deny it. We all do. And you should embrace that child, let it express itself.
You will be a happier person!"

"Listen, sweetheart, IF there is a child inside of me, let's say in some dark compartment of my soul, it's probably a fifteen-year old lesbian, possibly Polynesian, like Gauguin's mistress, but not into smelly old Frenchmen, who has a distinct thing for small black lace bra and pantie ensembles. So please let's NOT let that out, my friends aren't ready for it. I'm sure that they would rather see me fully clothed, unless they're perverts. And while we're at it, isn't it a lot safer to assume that there is no child within, not even a tiny one, but just an adult? An adult who is frikkin' desperate to NOT discuss internal infants, karma, disturbing auras, mother earth and green love, or similar tofu-brained new-age crap? Otherwise we end up with chaos.
In addition to the cute teenage lesbian wearing lovely underwear, I've got an angry sumo-wrestler inside, as well as a squid-loving bottlenose dolphin with a very bad attitude towards redwood trees and spotted owls!
Both of them also wearing lacy black bra and panties."


That conversation went nowhere fast.


After she huffed off, I couldn't get the lovely black lace bra and pantie set out of my mind. Mentally I just turned it over and over, re-designing parts, deciding whether or not it needed underwire, and how broad the lace border should be, and if it needed gusseting and elegant stitching, or would look better as a more severe and spartan combo. Comfort is, of course, a major consideration, as well as accentuation of curves.


I blame the surviving hippie-mentality for this. Without those patchouli-reeking pervs, I would never have had this mental blip.

I do not have a child within.

I've got nice underwear.

It's still there.




==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================