Everything takes up all of my time, nothing used to. I'm not sure how it happens, though I am certain that as time passes freedom evaporates. Or rather, the feeling of freedom recedes. Entire oceans of it lifted into the sky to form clouds. It must be why some people really get into their jobs. People search for meaning and purpose in what they do. I've found more of that becomes available when I'm doing nothing at all. It requires long stretches of open, unimpeded time to figure things out for yourself. Nobody that relies on a paycheck can be consistently witty. It's not allowed. If you think that I'm wrong here then spend more time with an unemployed friend. They are fun. I like to introduce them to my republican friends and then see who is more clever. I could use another decade of doing nothing, to return to that time when I had things figured out just by lounging around.
How do people manage to keep their houses and apartments tidy? That would consume the entirety of what little time I have left remaining in the day, even though this place not being picked up causes me its fair amount of unhappiness. There are people who must absolutely look forward to the weekend, giddy with the idea of it, so they can really dig in to some of that deep cleaning they've been wanting to get to all week. It doesn't make any sense. I don't mean the desire to have your place be clean, but the willingness to somehow be the very thing that causes it. There must be a diagnosis and a series of drugs designed to combat adult onset cleanliness.
I have no idea why - I just thought of how nice it might be to get a lap dance. In an instant I could see it all. Well, the woman's naked butt rubbing on my lap and how the curve of it leads the eye up to the waist from behind. I could see only that. Everything else was darkness. It was like a beautiful butt from outer space. It vanished as soon as my hand entered the frame. I'm not what might be considered a fan of titty bars, though neither am I in opposition to them the way that my freedom loving liberal friends are. I am committed to not letting my ideals corner me into any argument in which I take up a position against naked titties.
Just like that, your mind starts slipping. You're sitting at your kitchen table in the morning, writing, cataloging your daily thoughts and experiences, when the intrusion of pre-matriarchal bipedal buttock flesh appears, shimmering in the morning light, undulating with its arched message of pleasure.
It occurred to me that I must have thought of how much nicer my life has been when I had a woman, which can lend itself to working together to keep an apartment clean, then immediately my mind leaped to butt pie without my permission. Now I see the connection - it's sexist. This was a Freudian lap dance.
I'm not sure how best to punish myself for having such thoughts. I guess that by publishing this post maybe one day in the future a woman will read it and instinctively know what to do to correct these errant impulses: she'll take my cameras away. There must be a book recommendation out there, one that I simply must read to help rid myself of these fleshy musings, to help get the patriarchy out of my pants.
I do wonder what a female ruled-and-designed society might look like, what possible improvements there may be for all of us to enjoy, or whether we would still be getting lap dances in the trees.
Okay, we don't live in a joke-post world any more, we're post-joke all the way now. I should be more careful though, things sure have changed. To play lightly with the tools of sexual oppression one must be certain not to swing them too widely in the cave, and not to plug any of them in. Any woman can tell you that a vibrator sometimes has a mind of its own, evidence of artificial emotional intelligence.
How many good men have been laid low by the soft mechanics of innocent sexual pleasure.
One day they might hang me from one of those trees for saying such things. Women wouldn't do it, of course. Men would, on behalf of any woman to any vague suggestion that she might make. They wouldn't have to give an order, everything will be accomplished through the law of the implicit. There will be a call to End Sexual Reproduction Now! A thing that I've been demanding the abolishment of since I discovered what it was the result of. The first thing I wanted when I discovered where I came from was for my parents to just stop it.
Few things terrify beyond the beauty of life.
Who knows though, a society formed and governed by women might still find some use for men. Somebody will need to conduct the beheadings.
To live outside the law you must be honest.
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