Thoughts on whatever as time goes by. Tech stuff, Political Satire, DIY Philosophy, Garage Quantum Mechanics, Music, Whatever. Just a place for friends to stretch out their minds together.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Advice to the Lovelorn…
I'm happy to hear about your volunteer work teaching piano at the penitentiary. Other than being a good parent to adopted orphans, I don't know of a higher calling than being a teacher. That you are giving the gift of music, Bach, Handel, Garcia, to those men doomed to die by lethal injection is truly to be admired. At least they will leave this gloom benighted orb with a song in their heart.
So, things are well with Nancy Farber, but you are troubled by neurotic uncertainty. Will she/won't she sort of stuff. Is she going to put out? Ah, the tragedy of romance!
But, such issues, while rare among drug fiends, can often but not always be cured if confronted with courage and vigor. In my own past, under the attentive and considered guidance of Dr. Professor Anton Saurian, I took my most recent date out for a nice ride through the hill towns and up to Mt. Perilous. After gagging my sweet little Muffin, buckling her safely into the back seat with bungee chords, I toasted our pending journey to the summit with a flagon of fine 2010 Chateau Kerosene… and off we went! Upon arriving at the sunlit aerie by the mountain lake, we enjoyed fresh strawberries sopped in a wonderful Seconal and mushroom cream (quaffed by my beloved through a straw poked in the gauze and plaster bandage that enveloped her entire head, but for two holes for her nostrils). Well, after ruining her life and breaking her heart and mind, I dropped her off on the curb by the aging, temporarily panicked parents' house. For the moment, life never seemed like it could get any better. Ho-ho!
Alas, soon the lawsuits and criminal investigations began. Muffin, fortunately, was unable to testify, gibbering and drooling as she was, refusing to dress in anything but sackcloth and bearing the wounds of assiduous self-flagellation gained during her months in the monastery of Our Sister of Horrible Tortures. Her parents had both died in a mysterious case of double spontaneous combustion a few days prior to the trial. Thus, they also could not testify. So, I was set free on a bright and sunny day to once again enjoy the challenges and opportunities afforded a free man looking for love.
I cannot recommend that such a profound and deep course of therapy for everyone. However, for a true romantic such as yourself, you might want to consider it. Hope springs eternal.