(Crikey, this mad bugger's got a right native interpretation of "strange mood". )
Shards of glass
Inside my ass
From rectal calibration
I know it's free,
But now I see
I need new recreation.
I think I've settled into a new orbit around the love monkey. A slightly higher-energy orbit (though I realize that this is suddenly becoming a really bad analogy because electrons in a higher-energy orbit, though farther from the nucleus, are more prone to becoming attached to other objects).
I seem to have settled into a quasi-comfortable love-no-more rut from where I can convincingly maintain my lovable codger facade. Basically eliminated all but the necessary contact with human females, and keep that limited to keyboard's length.
No hanky, no panky, no monkey the spanky.
Of course, spring is only a short time away, and that will bring the inevitable short skirts and display of flesh that I always succumb to. And every year, I look forward to it with great relish.
Except this year.
This year, I want distance. I don't want the distraction of what's left of my hormones churning in my blood and making me crazy with unbridled lust. It's too much like teasing the dog with strips of chicken that you're never gonna feed him.
<sigh.>
Eh.
