M Database Inspector (cheetah)
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|Reggy - 43 Rows|
|Wed, Feb 01 2006||10||Electric Light Orchestra||
A friend of mine called me up to ask if I could
help him out helping her out with the electricity
of the air conditioner.
Its actually warm in my home for the first time, she said,
I appreciate your help.
The day after she called me up and said she was cold.
So I am now responsible to fix my poor performance and I came over.
About an hour into the four hours I was there
I took a break from the heavy conversation
and five minutes later it was warm again.
Turns out she has a boyfriend,
and we started meeting in coffee places, just talking.
It feels like I am cheating on him, she said.
When you feel like you are cheating on our
platonic coffee when you're in bed with him,
that would be real cheating,
as things stand, we just sit by tables and talk.
The conversations started focusing more and more
on the bed thing, nothing personal, all metaphoric with gentleness,
slowly but surely graduating to obscenity.
In another two weeks she told me she had broken up with him.
We spent the next two weeks in coffee places,
By the time we actually got to the bed,
we were both so hot we were frozen solid.
So we broke up, not biblically knowing anything.
The next day we overcame our fears and joined forces.
The frustrated bed was receptive, warm and soft this time,
and so was your skin.
It was the best night I have had in a very long time.
|Tue, Feb 21 2006||100||Haunted||
Remember how we lay on the bed the other day, naked,
and someone was knocking on the door?
You said "someone is knocking", and I was silent.
In fact I turned my head just a bit,
hopefully sufficiently unnoticabley,
so you can not see the smile on my face,
that which I will have no way of conrolling
with the anticipated emerging thoughts:
She must think I am totally paranoid,
she already thinks I am crazy and that
I think I am constantly being chased.
Given that according to my own accord,
the only person important in my life is already here,
I would have no reason to invite anybody in,
and so I am probably ignoring the knock on the door
while burning on the inside,
trying to hide my fears from my loved one.
So if the turn was noticable, I got it covered.
Have you ever in your life encoutered yourself
realy hearing actual sounds such as knocks on the door
when in fact they did not occur?
Nor have I!
I have been hearing these "Knocks on the door" ever since
the first night I moved into the appartment.
They have been occuring some five to ten times in 24 hours
ever since, usually in pairs, some 30 seconds or so apart,
and sometimes singular or in trios, but never more.
That night, I simply ignored them like I always do.
I was not about to make a show of pretending someone
is really at the door.
If I were to answer you, my answer would be:
Nobody is knocking, the appartment is simply haunted.
Thinking of how your answer will not be:
Oh, now I am calm, thinking nobody is here,
and you are perfectly sane.
I was strangling my laughter.
I would have a lot to explain if I didn't.
|Wed, Feb 22 2006||100||The Job||
Angels don't realy sit on clouds you know.
most of the time its hard work.
We just sit there occasionally, between jobs.
"Ki Kshe Hamalachim Bochim Beolam Aher,
Az Baolam Haze, Azuv Lanu Yoter"
In fact we never cry, we just get sad
when we see someone who does,
and that is when we come down to do some work.
Then again, being aliens and not having bodies nor wings,
we must implant ourselves in human souls, so we can meet
the job offers in the Glances while we are sitting in the clouds.
By Chance Two Separate Glances Meet
and a job is defined.
To our advantage, Darwin, my boss, is working on a
babel-fish -like device that focuses on translating
words spoken freudianly, into concious-like sentences.
It is still primitive and in development.
To compensate, I get to ask a lot of questions so as to
ecourage everyone to
Help Me Understand the Best I Can.
Sitting on a cloud one day,
she said I had changed her life.
I heard her loud and clear, told her so, and signed the job papers.
|Wed, Feb 22 2006||100||Poker||
Women always like to play poker.
It is more polite to call it "tease".
It hides the poker-like deceit effect.
Every relationship starts with a poker game of sorts.
Hardly ever so verbal.
I remember growing up,
studying carefully the Nottenet concept.
I was hysterically implanting "The Great Gift" concept in
my fragile hormonal brain,
over long periods of frustrated solitude.
Revenge against womankind was in the holster,
and will take years of planning,
not to mention confidence-building,
to execute the revengeful plan.
My first revenge came at the age of nineteen and change.
I remember dropping forcefully and rapidly from my first
encounter with Bahad 1, knowing that The Great Gift
and the one year long poker revenge plan will be
accomplished that weekend.
I had several offers before, which I refused to my future Boss,
unwilling to accept the fact that I am not a rational animal.
I was a bit too well trained by the two great philosophers of the time.
I insisted to myself that the first one must come with love,
not quite understanding that my subconsciousness is busy
protecting me from what seemed much more important at the time :
The loss of the poker game,
the loss of the successful revenge plan,
fear of rejection.
In the long run, consciousness won:
By the time I was forty one, I had already been accepted
to the special angel forces unit.
I had to sign off all planned anger as part of the screening
We then went into training.
I think it took some three and a half years:
from age eleven to fourteen and a a half or so.
Maybe the training started when the torturer was three,
I am still not sure.
Training is still in progress,
revenge is gone since my twenties I believe,
and jitters of anger are still sifting sometimes through
the safety nets we learned so hard how to build
And so, my adolescence left me with a very peculiar skill
that will continue to evolve over time.
I am a good poker player, but only if the the stake
has the title pre-first written on it loud and clear.
In training, we erased as much as possible any desire
to play poker on anything that is dangerous.
It never occurred to me that I will actually be Invited
to just such a poker game.
I felt like a hustler, and my hormones went loose.
"You will drown in your own ocean" - I said
But this was during the game, so it was just a poker line.
In fact, it was true in every respect,
save the fact that I left the second part out:
"and I will be there to protect you".
You did hear me loud and clear, of course,
so the ocean was actually my creation.
Quod Erat Demonstrandum.