Just now, feeling a glitch coming on, I took a few envelopmental leaps in thinking. The fits will soon subside, higher powers have assured me. The day will come when a tingling sensation starts up, then a grumbling that spreads through the nether regions. Or a faint flutter, a whir, a thrum. Something will come for you. On that day and forever, the unwrapped present will evaporate what remains, to serve as a reminder to you. Until then, Wee Willie Winkie rules …
… that every terminal association one might have dreamed of one day joining has been forwarded the relevant information and endorses one’s investiture by capturing one’s imagination.
Arriving as part of a chain gang rapping at the window, crying through the lock at one of Sydney’s popular ‘clothing-optional’ beaches, I am met at the edge of a precipice by an exposed manhood swaying the conversation toward invasion in broad daylight. Now this might not come as a surprise to you, dear reader. You might already have assumed that I am ‘lucky’ – maybe you’ve seen me in the tabloid rags and society pages on the arm of a popular and good-looking star of the cinematic world. But stop for a moment and consider. Had you yourself, through living your purpose, managed, like I, to procure a highly sought-after interneeship at a respected publication, where the images are properly selected and nicely distinguished, and been sent on such an assignment, would you, too, not have developed feelings toward the brute, taken a swing at the prevaricating monster?
Upstairs and downstairs in his underdaks indeed. Until a hum comes over the computer.
Image: Tau Muon / flickr
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