Seven Ways to Dance Around a Pole
Apr. 21st, 2004 09:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dotintheskyAnybody who is somebody knows that my stripper song is Bon Jovi's "You Give Love a Bad Name". When I hear that rockin' intro, and the words shot through the heart, but you're to blame... I start looking for the nearest table top to climb on and start pulling my boxers down. Today, though, I went to a music store on my lunch break and I found the Best of Prince on the listening station. Maybe "When Doves Cry" is more suited for a proper strip-tease. It's got that bumpin' and thumpin' sexy roll, but also some melancholic sentiments behind it.
The men in strip clubs have very melancholic eyes. I know because I was once dragged into one (Crystal Palace, in Montreal) by the brother of a friend - who had no idea then that I was more interested in the Chippendales. I still have flashbacks of the pimps taking the stick-thin, boob-implanted, nymphets-cum-graduate-students, on to the stage.
Back in the Catholic Office, conversation centred around a TV show last night about abortion. There were some frantic phone calls to Bishops and Canons to get their views on this topic. Meanwhile, because I've stapled and shelved and forwarded all I could in the first two hours of work, I'm sitting at my desk and reading a biography on Marie Antoinette (when I'm not fighting off the feeling of hitting the desk with my forehead).
Did you know that Marie Antoinette met Mozart when she was 7 years old? That she was born on the same day (2nd of November) as an earthquake that hit Portugal and killed 30.000 people? (Incidentally, that date is also the Day of the Dead in the Christian calendar - and that particular earthquake even featured in Voltaire's novel "Candide"). Life in Versailles was alien, powdery, smelly, gossipy, and shallow. I might read biographies for a while, preferably with some good historical value.
And some rat-looking guy followed me around during lunch hour. He really creeped me out and I was scared he would follow me back to my office (which he did) and try to get in (which he thankfully did not try.)
I'm still no nearer to Heaven.
The men in strip clubs have very melancholic eyes. I know because I was once dragged into one (Crystal Palace, in Montreal) by the brother of a friend - who had no idea then that I was more interested in the Chippendales. I still have flashbacks of the pimps taking the stick-thin, boob-implanted, nymphets-cum-graduate-students, on to the stage.
Back in the Catholic Office, conversation centred around a TV show last night about abortion. There were some frantic phone calls to Bishops and Canons to get their views on this topic. Meanwhile, because I've stapled and shelved and forwarded all I could in the first two hours of work, I'm sitting at my desk and reading a biography on Marie Antoinette (when I'm not fighting off the feeling of hitting the desk with my forehead).
Did you know that Marie Antoinette met Mozart when she was 7 years old? That she was born on the same day (2nd of November) as an earthquake that hit Portugal and killed 30.000 people? (Incidentally, that date is also the Day of the Dead in the Christian calendar - and that particular earthquake even featured in Voltaire's novel "Candide"). Life in Versailles was alien, powdery, smelly, gossipy, and shallow. I might read biographies for a while, preferably with some good historical value.
And some rat-looking guy followed me around during lunch hour. He really creeped me out and I was scared he would follow me back to my office (which he did) and try to get in (which he thankfully did not try.)
I'm still no nearer to Heaven.
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hair farmers of the world unite
on 2004-04-21 07:02 pm (UTC)What's next, your unwavering support for Whitesnake?
Re: hair farmers of the world unite
on 2004-04-23 10:11 am (UTC)