I guess I could talk about torture. That ought to make the men more comfortable. Having just written a little piece about when I was almost four and was raped by a 19 year old friend of my eldest brother's I seem to have scared off the men folk. Truth is this little foray into the heart of darkness of America post WWII, Salt Lake City, Utah--this tribute of mine to the greatest generation and it's family values has just begun, and the easiest part is in the past. It only gets worse from here. So buckle up, it's going to be a bumpy ride.
5 comments:
Ghost dancing has been serenading me and my frightened readers. Thank you ghost dancer. My mother was a big fan of Dire Straights. Odd that bit, no? But Heavy Fuel? Most apropos.
You haven't frightened off this men folk, Utah. I've just had a few days of trying to put two pounds of crap in a one pound bag. :-)
Tomcat, I have had to change my whole color scheme to accommodate Vigilante, who now refuses to engage. I think he and madmike think I have gone crazy and it might be catching. Anything I write that is even possibly political, they jump right in, but personal??? No, fuck that. Scary, boring, off topic.
So glad you're not that kind of pussy.
Vigilante sucks. Too.
Vigilante sucks? You're a dead man, Petro.
Post a Comment