Gary at work asked me if I knew what became of Geraldo.

He was referring to his recent war coverage blunder where he drew a map in the desert sand, forgetting that journalists were not allowed to give away the whereabouts of soldiers. He was sent back to the US after being questioned for possibly being a spy, and it goes down in history as another blunder to go with the Al Capone’s vault thing.

I feel sorry for Geraldo, he’s turning into the Charlie Brown of live television…

Thank you all for your comments and support.

ALL MY READERS ARE OVER THE AGE OF EIGHTEEN. IF YOU ARE NOT OVER EIGHTEEN, YOU ARE NOW OVER EIGHTEEN, BECAUSE ALL MY READERS ARE OVER EIGHTEEN YEARS OF AGE. THANK YOU.

funzone: My comment about your bit about men faking it intended to point to the ‘my sources of unhappiness’ part of that one last paragraph from last time, the part of the list that said ‘a date.’

My limited sexual encounters, mixed with dealing with folks that um… type with one hand and… do something else… with the other… lead me to think that sex is no different from any other bodily function. It just feels a little more intense because, well, you try going without eating until you’re sixteen years old, and tell me how it feels the first time you get to eat solid, cooked food! Or, imagine not going to the bathroom for sixteen years straight… you get the idea. I hope.

I don’t know if it was also one of yours when I left the comment, ‘If I’ve learned one thing from these people, (the one-handed typers!) it’s that sex and love are completely unrelated!’ When I’ve brought up my feelings about sex with the one-hand typers, they usually shrug me off and say that I mustn’t have had a very good partner, then. Or maybe there’s something medically wrong with me.

Strange thing to say, I don’t see a partner hiding under the keyboard…

I’m not saying it didn’t feel good, or that I don’t miss the people that… um… I was partners with, I’m just saying sex is nothing to obsess over.

Even that explantion was longer than I intended it to be.

My hours at work are down again, because of the law of gravity perhaps… actually, because we used too many in that week I thought was gonna not have any work time in it…

So I’m gonna be home quite a bit after tomorrow afternoon. Hopefully I’ll be in a cheerier mood, possibly dependent on whether or not the natural gas is still turned on (or rather, my ability to take a hot bath.)

Take care, and I hope that cleared a few things up.