Yes it’s true, I have absolutely no idea what the title I just gave this blog means, I was going to write ‘the dirty dozen minus two’ but then the whole cliché of the dirty dozen line bothered me, so I cleaned it up, so to speak, and only then did I remember that I really don’t need to use the term ‘dozen’ in this, it’s blog number ten damn it, and I made it clear to myself yesterday that I do not need to continue on with this sneaking (forcing) the number into the title, unless I feel like it.
The point is – today was the best day of my life initiative. Oh man, it really was a big day – I am busy, busy, busy these days, that’s three times busy, which is the same number of how many times that lady was a lady in that old song about how many times a lady was a lady. I assume the writer of that song was referring to something intimate, like how many orgasms she had during their recent love making stint, or many chunks her poop needed to be broken up into before getting the whole lot flushed down, but it is all irrelevant why she was a lady, the point was that she was three times that lady, and that’s a lovely thing to be.
I wrote a parody of that song many, many years ago – a good long decade before it ever occurred to me to attempt to write anything that I would like to show any other human beings. It was titled ‘three times a slut’ and it was about a girl who turned out to be quite a slut. I am not proud of this parody, not that I remember it at all, except of course the chorus – you’re once, twice, three times a slut… and IIIIIIIII hate you.
I think if I tried to write that song in this day and age I would probably be hounded down by the PC police, and even though I would never even dream of calling anyone anything that is potentially derogatory or hurtful, but at the time it was quite cathartic and written from deep in my heart – the girl I wrote it about you see, well I kinda liked her a little bit, but even though I never made a single move at her, or on her, or near her – I was quite upset when she chose a different male specimen over me, so I took it out on her with the well trodden teenage angst medium of parody song. That bit of information I just gave then would have been far more impactful had I not given it away earlier in the paragraph, but I don’t have time to go back and do rewrites on this one today.
The point is that you never know what horrible things people have written about you in secret journals, diaries and song lyric notebooks, so you may as well premeditatedly hate them for it. Now wait, maybe it’s that judge not he who throws rocks at glass houses, because how the fuck is that line in the bible? In all the things I have seen written, and spoken about the bible, no one ever mentions a drug addicts force cleaning your windscreen with dirty water in the hope that you’ll tip them, so clearly the bible was written pre-the invention of glass. Let alone glass fucking houses. Plus back then rocks were called ‘what the fuck are these things anyway, poop?’
Wait, not that’s not it –the point is that my day was really busy, possibly even once, twice, three times a busy. Chores, jobs, errands, projects, eating, work related stuff – oh fuck, that’s like eight times a busy!
Sadly I can’t possibly find the time to list all of the things I had on today in method profound and entertaining enough so that we’re all glad I did, so instead I will talk a little more about that girl I wrote the parody song about, here are some fun facts:
– The dude she chose over/ instead/ nothing to do with me, instead of me, was a Mormon.
– She was the first girl I ever had actual conversations with, and was sweet and understanding about my crippling fear, shyness and anxiety around her.
– She was the first girl I ever hugged more than once, and I believe even gave me some instructions on how to do it right, which sounds like perhaps she was being condescending, but she wasn’t, at least from my interpretation of these actions, she was being sweet.
I think we have all come to the same conclusion right? Yep.
What a slut.