I'm sitting here, watching a moth attracted to the light. It flies in and settles down on the bulb, then decides the heat burning is too much, so it flies away and repeats the pattern over and over.
I'm kind of stupid as well. I repeat patterns that are punishment and are built in pain makers to myself but I keep flying back for more.
Saturday morning, I'm flying back to a source of pain, a place I should call Hell but my HR department head(she likes it when I call her Bobo, so, "Hi BoBo!") has warned me twice about that, so I shall call it, Happy Land.
I haven't thought about Happy Land since I skipped out of the office on July 9th, 2009 but for some reason, the place decided to pop up in my mind, more like what I should do to in reference to the place.
Should I leave? Should I stay? Should I tell the bosses I need another week off so I can run over to Oklahoma City to meet up with a lovely lady I have known for years but have never met except in the bordellos and dungeons of CyberCity?
I should run off to Oklahoma City shouldn't I?
"Fucking A!" the crowd screams.
The wifey even thinks it's a good idea. She has some folks to meet up with as well.
I know, Win-win situation.
Happy Land has some joy for me, big titted cocktail waitresses who call me snookey butt, especially when they're drunk after they had a big fight with their boyfriends or girlfriends or both.
I.T. supervisor who we will call Sammy who has the same reaction as the cocktail waitresses to the booze but who instead calls me at 3am to confess his lust for me.
I tell him no. It's only fair, I have to tell his wife the same thing.
"No, I will not paint your ass red and call you Fancy Ass as I spank you with a paddle made from a unicorn horn!"
Personally, I'm also confessed, mentally debating with myself as to whether I want to get on the plane and head back to the land that has held me to its bossoms for the last eleven years.
I could just pretend I forgot that my plane is leaving on Saturday at 6:55 am and then I could pretend wifey doesn't have a gun and knows how to use it.
No, I couldn't do that, I would miss the wifey too much and she won't come out west due to some kind of court order that got put out the last time she was out here.
You would think the folks of the west would be use to an angry bear beating up a waiter who wouldn't refill her diet Coke.
But nope, so there's part of my debate. I love the wifey too much to leave her.
I mean, there are other women out here who say they would try to make me forget the bear but I shake my head and say, "No! There is only one bear! And after you finish the lap dance you started, you put your clothes back on and leave my cock!"
Oops, I mean, I love my wifey too much!
I keep hoping to win the lottery, the big one, so I don't have to work anymore.
I don't like working. The job itself isn't too bad, but the people make me want to go on a killing spree.
CNN would report on it.
Some people here would write about it, with tears in their eyes and something in their hands, I'm not sure what, some people get off on the weirdest stuff.
I still get off on the Weather Channel.
If I won the lottery, the big super one, I would buy me a place up here in Montana, up in the mountains, a secluded cabin. A place where I could stockpile weapons of mass destruction.
Oops, I mean, wander through the high country like I did when I was a kid.
My folks' had a cabin, nothing fancy, just a kitchen with a porch where the beds were. Pop got it in trade by refinishing some furniture for the lady who owned the cabin.
The land wasn't owned by us but by some hostile old lady who was always threatening to burn down the cabin with us inside.
We called her grandmother.
I stayed in the cabin for a few weeks in the summer time a few times. It was fun, just me and my imaginary girl friend Suzie and the natural wonder of foot hills rolling into mountain trails into the back country, where, sometimes you could stumble into a ghost town to explore.
I wish I would have had a camera back in those days.
Back to my lottery dream, my western place would be a cabin, nicer, fire place,
lots of whores for my personal use. This would be my summer escape.
The winter time, I've discovered as I grow older and my ankles decide that my youthful accidents are good bad weather indicators, I would have some place back east.
Somewhere close to the wifey's family but far enough so they don't decide to visit while I'm sober.
Nothing worse than visiting the inlaws sober. Hell, even visiting my own family sober is a trial by fire.
Booze galore will be added to the lottery dream list.
While I'm dreaming, I'll also be an award winning author and my next movie will be out in December.
Everyone will love me cause I'm super rich and have great hair.
Good night and have a better tomorrow.