Today, an Ox Roast. Something to fill the void; something to appease the martyrs, the maniacs and the mainstreamers.
I worked in the sun yesterday, a rarity for me. I am an albinoid so I must be very careful about such things. I have beautiful, seductive, hazel eyes so most people don't ever notice. Also, unlike all other albinoids I was born with a pre-determined gender; male-esque is what the doctors call it. My penis is like a statue, an unadorned Doric column. I have the Irish pigments in my skin, making me extremely fair-skinned. My eyes, on rare occasion, glow pink. Not the pupils, but instead the white's, usually in the mornings. I was only in the direct sun for a few minutes but I somehow got sun-burned along my neck, by definition making me a "redneck." I was hoping to get an even, deep, dark, tropical tan - but it has escaped me once again.
The natives have stopped worshiping me and they began to throw stones.
Okay, no. I did, however, work in the garden yesterday for a little while. We planted cucumbers and red lettuce, in addition to doing some regular garden maintenance. The cucumber beetles have decimated some of our crops. They are pernicious little fuckers, intent on their own survival. It's a good thing that they don't taste very good because I would make a minor feast of them, usurping their powers through the ingestion of their brains.
Okay. This morning is taking a very "Golden Bough" turn. It is only a matter of time before I cast Rachel out from the group, and make her sleep away from the tribe, because of fear and repulsion at her menstruation. Wait, I don't even think she is menstruating again. Recent pregnancy, etc. So, for now she can sleep in the house. But soon....
She's going to kill me.
"How did my menstrual cycle end up being a part of your blog again?"
I will start explaining the importance of Frazer's "The Golden Bough" and she will stand their looking at me like I'm a retarded shoplifter. Maybe I am. The incident rates run much higher in male redneck albinos, I'm told.