Can I just say, and I'm just being honest...

[Edwardo Piet]

Not even close, my dear friend.

Hot Flash...
Google says :> Hot flashes are one of the most common complaints of menopause, as the periods of intense heat, warm skin, and sweating are uncomfortable. They can be triggered by tight clothing, stress, or consuming alcohol, caffeine, and spicy foods.

Definitely nothing to do with flash photography... ooops!!  

Should be some hormonal imbalance... Can it be eased up by some pill? or injection like with diabetes?

Over here we call it a "hot flush".

As in:

[Joods]

Yeah this isn't Poker or even Poke Her. It's just miserable hot, sweaty, no relief from the bullshit, bullshit.

[Little lunch]

And it's definitely not poke her face.

[Angrboda]

I hate flash. And Comcast. And computers.

[brewer]

I hate flash.  And Comcast.  And computers.

You must be having a wonderful evening.

[J a c k]

CIJS:
Dammit! It’s like that thing is right there... right there... but you can’t reach out to grab it. Fuck, yo. I’m this close to just taking it.


Naaaaah. Chill, mama. These other things are nice. Look at these ones.

Dammit. But I want that one. It’s nice and shiny.

Mama, no.

I’m gonna.

What? Not like right now, right now. But yes. Who’s stopping me?

Dammit.

---

I hate flash.  And Comcast.  And computers.

Wait a sec. Did jor grace us with her presence in this humble thread?!?!    
Yay! Come again!

[J a c k]

(Cracks fingers, gets ready for rant)
CIJ fucking say?
( TLDR )
So much.

---

Tonight is not a night for normalcy. I sat in my car in the darkness and watched her walk to her door. I’ve been told before that it’s a bit creepy that I always wait until a person walks in their home, but I always wonder... what if I leave and some bad guy like in the movies just snatches her? Well, I waited. Once she was inside it took me a minute to realize I was alone and I could say my remarks out loud as I made my way to the bar for only one beer. Just one.
“You did the right thing.”
“Fuck it.”
“I’m proud of us.”
“Never again. Young people suck.”
And then I laughed by myself.
I get my own jokes. I spend a lot of time with me. I make my way through life driving on those beige roads on my own, sitting at those familiar and stranger bars by myself, laying in my bed by myself. I wonder what it would be like if people could see what I’m thinking. What if there was a bubble over my head and you could read my thoughts in it.
“Hanneeeeeh, I’d follow that booty around all night long.”
“Shut the fuck up, you ignorant fool.”
“I want to hug you, but I’m worried you might have lice.”
“I miss you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I want to reach out, but I can’t.”

I stayed in my car outside the bar. I didn’t get off. I didn’t have that beer. I just sat there, orange wig on the seat next to me... and my head hosting a thunderstorm up in there just going crazy.

I’m not a robot. I have feelings. I’m not that. Yeah, I’m cautious and I protect myself and others, but is being reasonable such a bad thing? Is being pragmatic evil? Is it wrong that I consider all outcomes before taking a next step? I don’t think so, yo. Maybe I miss out on a lot, but I also prevent chaos a lot. Pain. Regret.

I know what it feels like to want something so badly that it hurts to say its name. I know what it’s like to watch it slip between your fingers ready to fly away when you thought you had everything figured out. I know what it’s like to look at a face and know that there is nothing more beautiful, more serenely majestic, more heartmelting than this... yet know you can’t have it, and have to let it go. Whether they ever know how much it hurt and everything you killed inside yourself to master it... it doesn’t matter. The feeling of loneliness and heartbreak smells like shampoo and it lingers. It lingers.

I’m not a robot creature because I want to make sure I don’t cause this in others, or myself again. I’m just a cautious idiot that wrote a book and doesn’t stray from it. When a slip seems to begin to happen, I hault.

Hault. U-haul. I didn’t do it. I was gonna. I could have. It was a good deal. I love driving, anyway. But... I’m good at haulting. I knew what was at the other side. Let me explain something to you, because I don’t think you understand. I see it from here and it’s so much. It’s perfectly balanced with the right amount of sugar and the right amount of salt. So appealing. So smooth and so sharp. From the top to the bottom... from the core to the surface, it’s glamorous. Ridiculous. Mischievous. Soulful. Sweet. But when I thought for a second about all the possible outcomes, one outcome helped me come to a hault. My heart beat way too strong. Fuck. What the fuck was that? Nope. Pulled out.

It’s fine. I got it now. It’s all good. It was just a concern. But see, that’s the beauty of prevention. Maybe then it was a bad idea, so good thing I stopped when I did. Right? I had time to remind myself of all the angles and boom. Everything is ok. All the pieces on the right shelf. I can enjoy them all as I make sure I don’t mix them together. Like a boss. If that bubble was over my head, you’d be reading, “Mmmmmm chiquiiiiiiiiiis!” All the fucken time. Lol

Sigh. I have skin. I have scars. I have a particular way of walking and I have a very me voice. Not a robot. But then... what if...

What if I should just let go of all this reasoning shit for once and see what happens with this other thing. There’s the baby situation, but so what? What if I just shrugged it off and went with the idea of catching feelings? See... it would probably be badass. But... baby... then doom... then end of everything. Eff.

So here we are again... alone in my bed... and it all makes sense. I’m too woke for this shit, and I finally found a reason to use the word woke.

---

Goodnight.

[Little lunch]

I'm glad I'm not in a boat on the ocean in the middle of that thunderstorm in your head, Mamacita. :-)

[Foxaèr]

CIJS,

Thanks to circumstances beyond my control as a kid raised in a household where my family did not care to help me with my education, I failed first grade two times and was from that point on always two years older than everyone else in my class.

My freshman year in high school, during the blossoming of my sexuality, I first saw you. I thought you were beautiful. You were a junior in high school, on the football team, and I felt drawn to you in a way that I would only understand a couple of years later when a school counselor, who secretly counselled gay students, confirmed upon my asking her that you were gay.

I wonder if I had not been so shy, would we have been an item had I approached you? If I had been in your grade where I belonged, instead of having been held back twice, would we have had a better chance of knowing one another?

You were my first redheaded crush, though you wouldn't be my last; more on that another time.

[vorlon13]

CIJS,

OK, granny, you've admitted you have a problem. Hubby died, and a year later expenses are eating you alive. Well, you have a large house, you're alone now, how about taking in some boarders ??

"Oh hell no !!!"

OK, you have a separate mobile home, it was formerly rented out, how about renting it out now?

"Oh, hubby did all the maintenance, I don't want to be bothered"

OK, you have 3 vehicles, how about selling the one with the stick you can't drive anyhow?

"Oh, no!! that was hubby's !!!"

OK, how about selling the house and living in an apartment??

"Oh hell no !!!"

OK, how about cutting down on the casino visits and the cigarette smoking?

"Oh hell no !!!"

OK, how about not dumping anymore money on your meth head son, or your idiot daughter who married a meth head?

"Oh, hell no!!"

So, what are we looking at? You're going to lose the house and the trailer for not paying property taxes?

"YES!!!"

Well, it sounds like you're fucked. I've got a grain bin you can live in when they evict you.

"GO TO HELL!! YOU HATE ME !!!