Monday, August 4, 2008

Just Wrong

Although I am sometimes accused of having, if anything, a healthier-than-normal sense of self, I must make it perfectly clear that I am riddled with the same self-doubt and self-image issues as everyone else. But, for the most part, I'm more or less happy with and accepting of my face (more) and my form (less, but that's probably why I'm so clothes-obsessed). I also am pretty self-aware and content with my personality qualities and flaws. However, there are those moments when I'm plunged into an abyss of absolute self-loathing, such when the realization sunk in that, if Billy Bob Thornton approached me in a bar, I'd probably tap it.



And not just because it's his birthday today, either.

4 comments:

  1. Tap? Tap the bar...with my head maybe.

    I think I'd have to tap the bar first and then tap the tap afterwards, with soap, anti- bacterial, grease cutting soap.

    But who among us does not have mysterious urges that can't be explained (or shouldn't be).

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  2. Now dear, let's not be too harsh on poor little TJB, are we not here to support our addled sister?

    Maybe it's just, you know, an aberration, or the result of a tragic brain fever, or maybe he's just crazy, or, I don't know, *Billy Bob Thornton*? Eew. OK, go ahead and be harsh.

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  3. Oh, for heaven's sake - groomed up and half-clean like that, he would most likely pass muster with most of us in the average semi-dark nitery.

    Of course, we wouldn't yet have seen the crazy buried right there just beneath the surface - but isn't that the story of most one-night stands?

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  4. Girls, girls...I didn't say I was *proud* of this! One of my deepest, darkest secrets is that I'm actually pretty susceptible to what is often disparagingly termed "trailer trash"...[gulp!]

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