Sitting in a hotel lobby (and really tempted to say ‘an’ hotel lobby to show what a dinosaur I am) without any sleep and really a bit fed up with this long life for a selfish moment.

Wading through WordPress posts from nicer people than me hoping to get a little glimpse of sunlight. And then reading a post from Lou which instead goes down a dark alley and leaves me with an urge to write something called ‘Sex and Vomit’, but fingers just freezing in the hover over the keyboard. I cannot, for the time being, do justice to the project.

But I can feel, not for the first time, a guilt about being male.

Not surprising then, that something shallow about Mr Weinstein should find its way onto the page.

I’m a man about town

Out and about

I feed like a beast

On your fear and self-doubt

What insecurity

Will you reveal

When I open your vault

And we close the deal

Over your fences

Under your skin

I’m not playing games

But I’m playing to win

Not seeking approval

Not seeking consent

Nothing has meaning

So nothing is meant.

Daily Prompt…. Narcissism

I know that you all love me true
I must admit, I love me too
But at the reading of my will
I wonder if you’ll love me still

Will you see inside the hearse
The centre of your universe?
Life’s meaning for me so unclear
If life goes on when I’m not here

The morning after my demise
I wonder, will the sun still rise?
When I’m done and dusted, dead and gone
I ponder, how will life go on?

Just how vital will I be
When robbed of my vitality?
I’m asking, how will you behave?
Will there be dancing on my grave?

Lying, dying in my pain
In horror that I’ve been so vain
A question from this narcissist
When I’m gone, will I be missed?

I had reason to visit a ‘Hooters’ franchise in Long Beach, California recently. A friend wanted me to buy a tee shirt for his wife. It was meant as a joke and, apparently, as soon as he was released from hospital they had a good laugh about it.

I was just a little bit surprised, on the day, to discover that they were promoting themselves as a ‘family restaurant’. I had previously assumed that ‘family’ implied that there were lots of things to amuse the kids and that ‘restaurant’ implied a certain minimum standard of nutritional offerings. As far as I could tell, unless the kids were still breast feeding, Hooters were not really keeping up their end of the bargain.

Don’t get me wrong. The staff were friendly and the beer was cold. If not for other commitments I would have been happy to linger. I am just suggesting that a bit of ‘truth in advertising’ might be a appropriate. ‘Cold beer and tits’ would be fine. I doubt that it would have any negative impact on the bottom line.

Anyway …… I would have let this all pass if it were not for a post from Lou. Lou has been a bit quiet of late and it was refreshing to see him back. He has always been a monument to good taste and his thoughts on ‘Hooters’ this morning was no exception.

All this is to preface the fact that my reply to Lou was tasteless, misogynist and misdirected. But I repeat it anyway. Because, just occasionally, that can be a bit liberating.

They stand up straight

And look their best

Deliberately

Puff out their chest

But think me purile

Think me rude

That I am not here

For the food

I do not judge

I do not care

I did not see

My daughter there

I think, though

We have missed the point

If Hooters is

A family joint.

 

Mindlovemisery photo post #214