First of all, thanks to those of you who took time to email or post your concern over my lack of posts this last week. Even those of you who disguised your concern as attacks on my personal integrity. Showing compassion can be difficult when mummy and daddy never told you they loved you, so I understand where you where coming from.
I needed to spend my 1 to 2 hours a day of time not spent working or sleeping doing things other than blogging and/or concerning myself with the ways of the world. Don't ask me what I did instead 'cause I can't remember. I did go to bed very early a couple of nights, and no, Mrs. Waring did not get lucky. At least not with me.
A lot can happen in a week. I'm tempted to make one huge post and shoot my proverbial wad in one go, but I will save some stuff for later. It's been a good week but one that ended on something of a sour note when I was hit on by one of the ladyboys in the club last night. Luckily, I am not the type of lad that responds to such advances by punching the offender full in the face. I rather took it as a compliment but politely declined the offer by telling him/her that I already had a boyfriend. That seemed to confuse Arthur (that's what I call her) for a moment as (s)he seemed to be considering coming clean and 'fessing up but obviously thought better of blowing their cover and just smiled and gave me a hug (!) instead. Why the fuck are there no dry cleaners open on a Sunday?
Anyway, yesterday I ventured out to buy myself a new black shirt. I'm a big lad, 6 foot 3 to be exact and so prefer to buy shirts at stores for big lads. I wear a 2XL tall, most regular stores do not sell 2XL tall or if they do, all such stock is bought within seconds of being put on display by 5 foot 3 hispanic or african american types. That just fuckin' kills me y'know. I see these little twats parading down the street wearing shit that is 10 sizes too fuckin big for them and I think "Where the fuck did you get that?" Whenever I go shopping for clothes all they have is small boys medium that I could barely get one arm inside. Little bastards.
So, as I said, I'm out shopping for a nice black shirt and I go to 'Casual Male XL' where I am amused to find a fellow shopper loudly procuring for himself some new threads. By the looks of this guy, he doesn't get out often without the aid of the fire department and a winch. He's a bit on the large side and has a voice to match. After 5 minutes of debate with the assistant over whether the 4X or the 5X would be better, he settles on the latter and proceeds to the cash register where he already has several items ready for purchase and where another customer was waiting in line. The conversation was priceless......
Fat Guy - "So, what do you do?"
Innocent Bystander - "I'm a draftsman"
FG - "What's that?"
IB - "I draw blue prints"
FG - "I did that in college!"
IB - "Oh....really?"
FG - "Yes."
IB - "Oh....okay....well....."
Awkward silence.....
FG - "I'm going out on a date tonight!"
IB - "Yeah...."
FG - " Well, it's not really a date....it's bingo.....OA bingo. You know what OA is?"
IB - "Ummm.....no"
FG - "Overeaters Anonymous, that where I met her." (I had to hide behind the suit rack at this point.)
IB - "Really?"
FG - "Yeah....I have an eating problem...."
IB - "Huh?"
At this point, fat guy has an afterthought and yells back across the store to the assistant "Do you guys sell swimming trunks?"
Thanks for the image you fat fuck....
Sadly, I had left my cell phone in the car. A picture would have told told a thousand words.