I should really be doing my assignment, but I thought I'd take a break (although I can't really call it a break, since all I've done so far is run a factor analysis, with a lot more to go). So I was reading World of Chickens by Nick Earls, and a particular part made me wonder about something.
'Nev's older than Dad and ... he's famous for one thing, and it's not tree lopping... There was this big philosophical bind he got into. There was this one time when he paid twenty bucks for a blowie on Brunswick Street and then he found out he'd got it from a trannie.' He stops, raises his eyebrows in a how-about-that kind of way.As I've mentioned before, it seems like the majority of guys wouldn't go there, knowing it was another guy on the other side. What I was thinking though, was now every other time, you'll be thinking about how good it was.
'I don't see the philosophical bind yet.'
'It was a blow job the like of which he'd never had befoer, the eye-roller to end all eye-rollers. So what's a man to do the next time he's got a lazy twenty in his back pocket? ...and the story gets worse, too.... the trannie had lost his front teeth going over his handlebars when he was a kid, and for an extra five bucks, he'd take his plate out.'
When I was in grade 3, I had the best pasta I've ever had in my life. It was cooked by Caterina Zampogna, who taught 2/3 as well as Italian (which I wasn't allowed to learn, because my school offered Chinese and Italian, and because of my nationality, I was forced to learn Chinese). Being only 7 years old, I didn't think much of it at the time, and I knew I'd be able to have it again the next year at Italian Day. What I didn't know was that the school was going to close down, and I never saw her again. Even if I did manage to track her down, I don't know what I'd say. 'Hi, you taught me for grades 2 and 3, can I have your pasta recipe?' I don't even remember what type of sauce it was (although I do know it was tomato based). I just know that it was the best damn pasta I've had, and nothing I've had since compares.
That's the other problem though, since it was so long ago, the actual memory of the taste is fading away, and all I remember is that it was delicious, so over time, its reputation will grow, and I don't think it'd be possible to live up to expectations, even if I did manage to track her down.
OK, did more work, and have finished the first part, so break time again.
I think the same thing would happen to the Nev guy (though he never features in the book again, as far as I can recall), in that nobody will ever measure up to that one experience he had with the transsexual, and even though he doesn't want to go back, a part of him always will. I had dinner a few hours ago and now I'm hungry again. I wonder if there are any places that sell pasta at this hour.
At uni at the moment, and I have to say, going to the toilet is always an interesting experience. Someone had written on the door:
"I don't know where the penis goes."
To which someone else replied:
"Wrong toilet love, look for the <male toilet> sign."
I don't know why, but I was reminded of a conversation I had with a lesbian friend of mine. She said she thinks penises (penii?) are sad and wrinkly and she doesn't like them. I think given my history of older guys, I can say I've had wrinkly, but I think the whole point is to fix the sad part, right? If it's happy, then it's less wrinkly, although if it gets too happy, then it goes back to being wrinkly again. =( I wonder how wrinkly AG is now. Actually, I don't want to know. *shudder*I heard he's engaged now, or something. I wonder if she thinks about how wrinkly he is. I don't think I ever did, well, not at great length anyway. So I don't know why I can't get over it now. T_T
I feel a bit sad, because there was a lecture I was looking forward to, about serial killers but it turns out it was on yesterday instead of today, so I missed it since I was in class when it was on. =( I also frantically gave a shift away so that I could go, thinking it was today. T_T I've put some thought into maybe doing further study in criminal profiling, but I really don't want to write any more essays at the moment, and the more I think about it, the more I'm starting to convince myself it's a dangerous career pathway. I see enough angry people at work, and I know I'm protected by security, and with a press of a button, my table will be surrounded by security if something does go wrong.
Today was my last day of classes, and if all goes well, it'll be my last day of undergraduate classes!
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