Well OK, yes. The time came. I will not belabor the point, but yes I have joined the commune in the Book of Feces – sorry, I mean Book of Faces, so called (preferring to avoid the penchant for the duo-syllabic lingo of the current era – I’d rather this more phrase based nomenclature, if you will. A tad more elegant.). Resistance has proved futile, obviously, and I have suffered the berating of far too many a real, meat-space friend at this point for my not being one of the %99 to be able to stand.
And so I bend over and will take it like a man…or a bonobo…or perhaps like the drunk whore, Tralala, in Hubert Selby Jr.’s Last Exit to Brooklyn who gets gang-banged by the entire neighborhood and the local Navy barracks boys and is left unconscious and bleeding on the hood of a car. I can’t wait!
Soon the excitement of my virgin ass will all be forgot and I’ll just be one more following in step. Mind you, I’ve found a way to just post to my site and have it feed to the fecesbook so I can work in the aesthetic purity of my preferred familiar surroundings so might not see your proddings and pokings. Please never be afraid to contact me directly.
Whatever makes you happy, m’dear. You are the best judge of what is good, bad, harmless or uncool for y’self…. Personally, I like turtles.
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