This sudden realisation....
... that I must technically be an insensitive cnut.

You see: I've had many moments that I can wax lyrical about for hours and hours: for example, Introducing Mrs Humpty to Llyn Cau in the hanging valley at the foot of Cader Idris, (Mrs Humpty is a Swede from the flat lands of southern Skåne) and her lapsing into a blissfull silence, only broken by the deep yet simple statment "I could live with this you know"... fantastic, but it means nothing to any of you!! Only to me: Only I can gauge the historical and emotional significance of sitting in that valley at sunrise, with noone but MrsHumpty to share it with.
The Look On her Face was fantastic when she saw the lake stretched out infront of her...


So... NOW.. I'm revelling in the bliss that is the realisation: I'm an insensitive bastard.

I get bored of reading these wonderful (and they all are) moments... They're all great. But they lack the lurid detail that usually drives me and my morbid curiosity to read these pages for hours and hours. I Find myself yearning for a story of somone having to make the choice between shitting or puking, and luck taking a back-seat when thier arse explodes and spray-paints the wall behind them as they whoof thier cookies into the old Armitage-Shanks.

It just lacks the shades of crapulence that drive my mind.

It's fluffy, sweet and cute, and I've voted for many... But there's a limit to the amound of candy-floss that one man can consume in one week.... about 2 pages to be precise.

mm. gusset.

There. I've realised it.
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Mon 14 Mar 2005, 12:33, Reply)