Who would have thought the angels would sing for this?
First of all, that was gross. Totally gross. Gross in the way that stumbling upon old-person porn is gross, gross like a smarmy, hairy guy in a speedo with baby oil dripping off his skin, smiling at you, is gross. That kind of gross.
It was also embarrassing, the kind of embarrassing that comes from reading your middle school journals, where you wonder exactly how it was possible for such inanity to have sounded so mature and profound.
It was like that.
It was also a lesson in curiosity killing the cat, except that the cat wasn't dead -- just hairless and acutely aware of its shame.
On the upside, it was freeing. Freeing in its grossness. Not devastating. Not heartbreaking. Not infuriating. Not sad. Just gross.
And that, my friends, is progress. Freedom. The possibility of better things to come.
Amen, praise the Lord, and pass the chitlins.
...
...
...
But, um, freeing as it might have been, perhaps that's not the last thing I want in my mind before I try to sleep. Wait a sec.
All better.
It was also embarrassing, the kind of embarrassing that comes from reading your middle school journals, where you wonder exactly how it was possible for such inanity to have sounded so mature and profound.
It was like that.
It was also a lesson in curiosity killing the cat, except that the cat wasn't dead -- just hairless and acutely aware of its shame.
On the upside, it was freeing. Freeing in its grossness. Not devastating. Not heartbreaking. Not infuriating. Not sad. Just gross.
And that, my friends, is progress. Freedom. The possibility of better things to come.
Amen, praise the Lord, and pass the chitlins.
...
...
...
But, um, freeing as it might have been, perhaps that's not the last thing I want in my mind before I try to sleep. Wait a sec.
All better.