The Who is playing first,Wen is second? in July 26th, 2013 Flash Friday

I am awfully secure in my masculinity. What’s left of it. Heh.

I’m shooting for minimal in my paragraphery. For instance;

The Fuck.

I let a hair care product post on my FB that I Heartily endorse it. Or some such shit. It’s an entire circle of crass commercialism chewing its own tail like the giant anaconda that is this mortal plane. I think we’ve lost the number one and three engines on this mortal plane and am still not moved to march in sandals with a sign that reads the end is nigh.

I have trouble enough being secure in my masculinity ensuring soft, supple, pliable hair without marching with ‘Nigh’ all up on my sign. It seems contrary to my pacifism to walk around in boots and a thong, though, with a sign that says “Smell my hair; I’ll kick your ass”. Ok, the thong was just to see if you were paying attention. I’d totally wear a c-cup.

To be fair to my testosterone there’s a chick involved. Men and women alike forgive you a world of stupid if there’s a chick involved; it’s a question of spin. Women will get all gooey if you spin it romantical n shit and dudes will raise a hairy paw in brotherhood if you spin it all sexual.

Which isn’t a bad segue into skipping away from these dorsal finned waters with a --- Double-ewe-Tee-Eff is the deal with dudes and “I bagged a blonde last night”? First off it takes me a minute as my first thought is always “Bambi is usually blonde, that’s how fauns roll.”

And sure, I’ll raise a hairy paw in solidarity with a hale-and-well-met-fellow “Arrgh” but I’m thinking “Dumbass, didja bag her hair? Making a wig are we? You know that stuff can be any color they want, drapes and carpet or whatever euphemisms you care to use to suggest no one has ever altered their pubic hair.”

I’m just saying, unless you really have a hair fetish or a thing about the quality of light, you did no such thing. You likely did no such thing anyhow. Being an adult male who has had sex at least once I really don’t feel compelled to announce it as though I’d just placed bronze in the special Olympics, and were I to have such a compulsion hair color would be pretty far down the list just as, to keep the analogy going, I wouldn’t mention that the silver medalist was “technically” brain dead.

Ok, seguing back, it’s ok to get a girl fist bump if you “bag” a soft supple haired gent who feels fortunate to have enough hair to have a discernable color. Y’all, however, are going to have to step up to some other high yellow soft and supple dawg. My hair goes with the one what brought it.

One of the ex-wives (clue; not the dyke) feigned outrage that I was neither 5’10” nor blonde as I had suggested on line. Non plussed. I feigned non plussed which was easy as I was non plussed. I couldn’t have been plussed with your addition. First off it’s a law that if you are online you must Must MUST make shit up. Secondly I expected those misdirections to be transparent. I didn’t have a whole I love Lucy script on how I was only going to stand in bright sunlight and on a chair. In three inch heels I might pass for 5’9”. In three inch heels hair products grow a set of balls and wrassle gators comparatively.

It’s causing me internal giggles to be able to state, sans misdirection, that I am the proud ex-husband of multiple wife(s). The pride of lack of ownership. I don’t believe anyone anyone has said on their death bed on their death bed I wish I had gotten a few less divorces. Bed perhaps, death bed, why bother? I like to think I’m going out with some quality remorse. I hope to sweet swaddling unmarried Christ that no one has said on their death bed “Shit, I’m hemorrhaging from internal giggles.” One shouldn’t take shit’s name in vain (Curious Dave gets partial credit for that one. He raised a fine point “Why do so many Christians think saying fuck is bad? The bible said not to take the lords name in vain. Is god’s name fuck?” I paraphrase which was probably harder than it would have been to cut and paste).

Where was I? Hair care products, internal giggling --- oh yeah. I’m pretty fucking A macho, can I get a pound dawg (careful, just had my nails done)? Hmmmm, couldn’t non plussed be “A hyphen in the context of an equation”? Then I’m not twice divorced, I’ve just subtracted a few wives. Nothing but a chicken wing (as I’ve come to understand, fast twitch muscles).

Food is here. Later bitches (that’s for the guys, all other genders --- On the morrow then ma’am)