Sunday 9 May 1999

Pic of the day: I can explain everything. Really. Just read on. It gets worse from here.

Is there a competition for "most pathetic day"? I want to sign up this one.
It started before I even woke up. I dreamt that I was back in the rural village of Rivedal, where I grew up (well, physically at least). In fact I was on the neighboring farm. And I was carrying a pullover and a pair of trousers which were stuffed with pillows or some such and joined together to a superficially humanoid shape. This, I claimed, was an Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah. (For those not familiar with Robert Jordan's Wheel of time epic fantasy, the Aes Sedai is an organization of female magic wielders. They are divided into 7 Ajah, each with its own color. The Green Ajah is also called the Battle Ajah, but are at least as well known for liking men, which they will often bond magically and transform into super-athletes. "What the Aes Sedai get from this is a well guarded secret." Yeah, right!)
So there I was carrying my oversized rag doll over my shoulder in the great outdoors, until I was awakened by the insistent sound of a bird that for some reason sounds just like the error beep of our computers at work. And it just kept beeping until I was well and truly awake.

The most pathetic thing about this dream is that it's not even the world's most pathetic dream. I think that honor must go to the irrepressible GabGab for her dream in which she tried in vain to give her house cat a blow job. (If you don't read her daily updates, you sure lose out on some incredible litterature.)

Anyway, as I woke up, another thing kept me from going back to sleep. As soon as I moved, I felt a local but sharp pain from the tip of my, uhm, male reproductive organ. It felt much like a paper cut, unlikely as that would be. There was nothing to be seen, though, perhaps partly because the thing had wisely receded like a very scared snail, to pretty near its minimum configuration. (Think "prune".) (I may need a shrink, but a shrinkage? Come on.) There is no discoloring or anything, but if I try to wear any clothes on my middle region, the pain jabs me quite sharply. I definitely hope this corrects itself until I'm expected to go to work tomorrow.

Then, just before dinner, I suddenly get bouts of shaking frost and diarrhea. Yay! At least I didn't puke. So far. Good thing I used up most of my smileys yesterday! :)

Reasonably, I've stayed indoors. I've played Civ2 and Daggerfall as my wrist allowed, and eaten milk and cookies. And, obviously, provisionally reconstructured my dream construct as best I could for the benefit of my innumerable faithful readers. (Well, innumerable mainly because the number varies between 4 and 5.)

Actually, when I lived in Rivedal I did occasionally stuff at least trousers with old clothes. I'm not sure how often I did this, only that it was more than once and until our dog discovered one such and got seriously turned on. I must admit that I was pretty much surprised by that ... I mean, presumably young dogs have urges too, but ... no, really. There are some images one could happily live without.

Come to think of it, most of what I know about humans I learned from animals. Mainly the goats, who are dedicated individualists each with its own personality and a complex social interaction. They also taught me the basics of sex (by example only, in all fairness) though I'm happy to say that I got hold of Desmond Morris' book The Naked Ape a few months before my first slimy night. The book makes for a reasonably smooth transition from looking at the goats doing their stuff and over to the corresponding human behavior. But most young boys probably don't approach the librarian at the local community center and ask her to recommend a few good books about sex.

Of course, today we have the Internet. There is no reason to be ignorant of anything any longer. But is the Net doing a better or worse job than the goats? I guess that depends on where you look.