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Writing » 2005 » March

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Hmm. Is this thing working?

How long is it supposed to take for my stupid posts to appear on my blog?
 
I don’t even like any of them so far. But I can’t retract them. THIS SUCKS!
 
I’ve cast some idiocy into the ether, and now all I can do is wait for it to show up on the blog, where I can revisit just how stupid the stuff I wrote is.
 
This feeding tube is chafing my cheek. And the donuts are barely working their way through the tube! This was a stupid idea.

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FOUR

I wonder.

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Mmm!

Pope paste.

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Ahhhh. Whew! Ooooooh. (suck air in through teeth) Eeeeehaaaaaoooh. Heh.

I try to go to the gym often enough to balance out my tremendous beer intake, thereby maintaining this sort-of pleasingly husky build, and every time I return to the locker room after one of my WORKOUTS!!! I always find myself puzzled by the noises the other men are making. Breathy noises, staccato or drawn-out, sharp and through the teeth or low, bordering on subliminal. It’s hard to convey through writing. Just imagine the sound you’d make after taking a gulp of cold lemonade on a 100 degree day. Or the sound you’d make as blood is being drawn from your arm. Or the sound you’d make as you stand naked at your locker in the Men’s locker room.
 
“Ahhhhhh. Sssst. Wheeeew.Uh.”
 
And that’s just taking off a sock.
 
Exaggerated, breathy, masculine noises that are clearly not the same noises men make when they do simple things such as apply deoderant, open a locker or dab talc in the privacy of their own Action Headquarters (I’m assuming that’s what all men have, since that’s where I reside – du Bouchet Action Headquarters, Sargasso Base 12! what? I dunno. blow me.),
 
“Mmmmph. Graaaah. Heeooooooooh. Eh. Aaaaaaah.”
 
And that’s just tapping in his voicemail code on his cell.
 
The workout’s over, right? Ostensibly, these guys have already cooled off a bit, maybe even taken a shower, and their bodies are in relaxation mode, not APPLY X NUMBER OF FOOTPOUNDS OF TORQUE TO DUMBBELL mode, right?
 
So here’s my theory. The sounds are meant to let other men know – “Hello, I too am a man and I am here in your vicinity, you man.”
 
Because frankly, standing side-by-side with another naked or semi-dressed man is not the natural state of things. For thousands of years, I would wager our (giant)fore(head)fathers took great pains to avoid situations in which two or more of them were standing naked side-by-side, staring at small storage compartments. Maybe hewn into a cliff face, for example. With tools such as an Elk Chisel. I’m just guessing.
 
END OF FIRST MEANDERING POST OF THE DAY SUCK IT!

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