This month has been incredibly hard for me. With my new found dedication to my mind, body, and spirit which includes sobriety, health, and meditation has come a lot of new found pitfalls. Not really new just that I thought quitting smoking would come very easy to me like quitting drugs or quitting drinking, but those did not come on the first try so why should this have.
It has kept me from writing as much I would have liked. But changes need to be imminent, otherwise change will never occur.
That being said. I started writing this yesterday however I needed a bit of a kick in the ass, a nice taste of stupid people, and a little bit of eye candy.
Unfortunately all I saw at the gym were five foot tall power lifting gym rat muscle heads. I’m pretty sure one stood at maybe 4’4″. I always find it cute with double numbers, just not with those two. I guess if I liked women I would like 44 better. I mean Pam Anderson does have a nice rack.
Ugh so all these people that think they can drive the speed limit or better in the snow are amusing. It’s not that bad out yet, maybe two or three inches and people drive like they are God. I am waiting for someone to crash into the median in front of me at some point. It would be pretty funny unless an airbag went off or glass broke. Most silly accidents like that are relatively funny.
OK I’ll stop being sick in the head. The funniest thing about the snow is there is always someone on TV shoveling it way, way, way too early. In this case about 15 hours too early. And he looked 70. I wish there was a way to broadcast to all elderly people when they are cutting up.
Or anyone really. Like sometimes my conscious mind seems to take a trip to a far away galaxy. There should be a chip in my head. Bad Spacedog, Bad Spacedog!!!! And transport me to some shackles.
That all being said…..I am not in the mood to bitch a whole lot more.
I am in the mood for cake. An entire cake…. decadent, lascivious, homemade, mouthwatering.
Men are like cake.
If I could I would eat cake everyday.
For every meal.
Then I would waddle eventually.
Overly indulged I would not want cake ever again.
Men are like that. You have too many, you will end up waddling or walking with a certain slant or strange visitors in your nooks and crannies.
Yet there are so many kinds of cake. It’s easy to find any old piece of cake. A vanilla with vanilla frosting or a chocolate cake. Minors are kind of like cupcakes. When you are a little cupcake, they are nice and tasty and big cakes are rather frightening or daunting or cumbersome. Hopefully we grow out of cupcakes.
Sometimes I still feel like a cupcake or I feel like eating one but I like a biT more satisfaction. And besides cupcakes don’t come in as many flavors.
And my favorite cake. I’m not really sure. My favorite cakes changes from year to year to year. Right now it probably would be Black Forest. But if I went around looking for a man that was black forest I would probably find something similar but not the same. Like a chocolate cheesecake covered in cherries.
But it’s easy to find cheesecake too. In fact most of the men in this world are cheesecakes. You can top them with strawberries, cherries, blueberries but guess what? They are still cheesecake underneath it all. Maybe if I liked cheesecake I would have been the type of person that has had a piece of cake under my grubby little fingers since I was 16 years old but I’ve never really been the biggest fan of cheesecake. It probably would be easier. But why just settle for the cheesecake?
I’d even take my second favorite cake, Triple Mousse. Then I find Triple Mousse and realize that cake is no longer what I want. I suddenly am allergic to chocolate. I suddenly am allergic to you. I ponder and I plot and I worry about what I am supposed to do. It would be nice if I could put a rain check on the Mousse or the Black Forest.
But then some days I want pie. And on those days I hide. I love lemon meringue and I love key lime, but the pie sometimes symbolizes what is wrong with life. It is so convenient and so easy, like the crack cocaine of sweets. Hostess and Tastycake and Drakes offer it for a dollar or less at times and it is so accessible. It calls right there and screams my name. It is easy to resist but hard like all other bad things can be at times.
So I sit here on this post snowy day wondering what exactly Christmas cookies are.
Then I wonder about Advent calendars. Why can’t their just be a man hiding behind the many days leading up to Christmas? That I can take with me and wake up under the Christmas tree and then just put him away a few days after New Years and forget about him and throw him in the crawl space until the following December.
I suppose some things will never be perfect in the world.
By SpaceDog