Tangled Up In A Twist Of Fate 39/ an uninspected mind
Posted on January 30, 2013
Immigration reform, flash fantasies, a personal fantasy, maybe too long,music.
Immigration reform is edging out gun reform in the legislative mindset. First of all it’s easier to deal with. The elected officials don’t have wingnuts with assault weapons and fifty round clips promising to visit if the local legislature or Congress even think of taking their baby away. And immigration reform deals with immigrants. You know, those people who snuck into OUR COUNTRY and are taking away jobs from Americans. The legislators are smart, maybe. They propose legislation to allow undocumented aliens to get a green card if they pay fines, submit to a background check, write a thousand word essay in Esparanto detailing the variations in the String Theory, but I’m wandering. All of the requirements will be wonderful for the high tech saavy immigrant and will help ensure his or her employment in the US. There’s a problem with this; we’ve got a boatload of techie college grads wandering on to the job market thar are home grown and produced. Hell. we told them that was the way to guarantee a job. There are a whole bunch of undocumented aliens that do jobs that we as Americans think we’ve gone beyond. Like picking produce for instance, the locals don’t seem to be well adapted to stoop labor except for those who are driven to working the fields because it’s the only work they can get. We ignore them too, except if it’s sweeps week. Edward R. Murrow did a documentary for CBS on migrant labor. It struck a chord but as time has passed the urgency has been taken up by religious groups and social activists. Look, we need these people. They’re taking up slack we’re unwilling or unable to handle. The axiom I always heard from kindergarten to twelfth grade was “An education will always get you ahead in life”. Maybe that was bulls^^^ but let’s face it, someone who’s spent time learning is more apt to get a job than an undereducated but willing candidate. Let’s take care of the migrant workers first, they need more, they’re more integrated into the supply chain and for some reason that I can’t put my finger on they’re more human. And. to the Honorable Gentleman from Alabama who railed against Immigration Reform, Shut the F^^^ Up. Your forebears who you hidebound unreconstructed Southerns worship were most likely illegal immigrants. No matter how much money and prestige you surround yourself with you can’t chang the core.
Flash fantasies, yep, I invented them. What are they? Let me explain. Fantasies are a part of our lives. Early on mine were: Riding with Hopalong Cassidy (Google it), Holding hands with the prettiest girl in class. Kissing the prettiest girl in class, Having sex with the prettiest girl in class. Dating that cute girl cashier at the supermarket. Having sex with… It takes up time. Thus flash fantasies. They’re fantasies on steroids. Imagine your basic porn movie. The studly pizza delivery man rings the doorbell. The housewife clad in shorts cut up to there, cleavage and made up as well as a porn star can do playing a housewife. She takes the large pizza box, they climb onto the sofa and have sex on every surface in the house. You get the picture. I’m not an afficionado of porn. It takes time and isn’t real for me. The flash fantasy takes care of all of that. Back to the movie: The pizza guy rings the bell the housewife answers then everything speeds op ten or fifteen times. It has the pizza man zipping up, the housewife swooning and fade to black. They work for me. I can see the female, Ferrari, whatever and skip past all the stuff that only complicates and disappoints. Nobody’s hurt. Unless you bring that complication the Catholic Church cooked up. Thinking about a sin is as good as dong it and it affects the soul of your companion. I never bought that. Give ’em a try. Flash fantasies free up time and eliminate the chance of getting caught fantasizing. You don’t have to try, but there’s a chance your partner might catch you with your eyes closed purring on the couch or staring at that spot just beyond Betelguise after a particularly toothsome candidate passes your path.
My personal fantasy. A threeway with Jenny McCarthy and Chelsea Handler. It begins with Jenny in a red midi, a little cleavage red lip gloss. Chelsea is in a midi, between lilac and a purple. They wear their hair down. We sit on a long couch. At first the ladies are at the far ends, me im the middle. We have drinks, Chardonat for Jenny, vodka martini for Chelsea. Me, club soda. I’ve got to keep my wits about me. We talk books. They’re published, I’m waiting to be. The conversation gets personal. We talk humor. I tell them they’re with me in this threesome because they can be as raunchy as any guy but when the joke is told thay exude a uber sexy “Did I say that?”. I want more. The one true thing I know about these jaw-dropping women is they’re smart, real smart. You don’t become a sexual, humor and social icon by being stupid. Your questionl: “Why is a guy asking women for image etc. advice?” Women know more. Men, me included, are bound by secrets. How many bombs do you have? Did you sleep with my wife/girlfriend? I don’t need the bullsh^^. A side bit that might clarify. Years of research for college term papers has taught me that you don’t have to ask the exact question. You need to ask the one that will put you on the path to the correct answer. Verbally seducing two hot comics into talking about books jokes and that. Anyway, they’re way out of my league.
I’m in the mood for The Band
See you on Friday.