Tuesday, February 28, 2006

150: Bloody Hell

While I'm brushing my teeth last night, my nose decides that its own blood vessel will pop wide open, to release a copious amount of blood. You know, like the way an Ebola infected individual will just suddenly bleed and die. Well, maybe not exactly like that, since I'm still breathing. But you get the idea.

And, oh yes, my body parts do have a mind of their own; Masters of their own Determination and Will, they are. Sometimes they do stuff without my noticing. It's quite strange really. Waking up one morning to find your underwear wet and sticky. And just right now, this very moment, the muscles of my left butt cheek are starting to cramp...Ou, ou, ouuuu...Okay, I'm back. Think of the worst charley-horse you ever had and think of it happening to your ass. Not pleasant. Believe!

So, yes, back to my bloody nose. This doesn't normally happen to me. Last time I had an unprovoked (unprovoked, in a sense, your nose isn't picked so clean that you bust open the delicate lining of your nasal cavity) nose bleed was back when I was a sexually confused and horned up teenager. Spontaneous nose bleed, as Japanese manga teaches, only occurs in times of great excitement, to be more concise, when the male protagonist by happenstance observes a nude goddess bathing in one of Japan's many onsens or when some perverted old man peaks on a teenage girl changing out of her school uniform. I can assure you that I'm not, NOT, at the very least like either of those aforementioned manga figures.

I, however, having recently committed to a lifestyle, which I hope to, perhaps, share about in my next hype-cast installment, a life choice akin to the Masters, like Michelangelo, Da Vinci, and Walt Whitman, even Hans Chirstian Andersen, and the countless Saints, like the older version of St. Augustine, without whom the beautifully proportioned bell shaped standard deviation curve would be askewed to the side of rabid beasts, or rather, to those of whom we label whores or sluts, I am perchance experiencing something similar to a buyer's remorse. As my bloody nose has indicated.

But what do you do when you're committed? Should I give in by complying to my other brain's demand? Invite the two good Messieurs to play? But what do you do when you don't want to play with Mr. Right and Mr. Left anymore?

Bloody hell!

Oh, the cramp, the cramp!!! Shit, I'm bleeding again.

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