April 17, 2005
Talk, Pt. 2
Now where was I??
Oh, yeah, I was “computing.”
Firstly, rather than go back and edit my previous entry, I will admit now that, during Comcast’s extended outages, I complained. Maybe a lot, but not very vehemently. (Actually, I was more concerned about repeated kernel panics in OS X.) I imagine that, to someone who was horrified by the fact that I even had a computer in the room, AT ALL it was unacceptable. Sorry.
Anyway, our discussion on Saturday boiled down to a couple of related things: I am unsanitary (we already went over this); having a computer in the room proved that his recovery was not my Number One Priority; my “unrelenting search for dick” will someday result in my death or severe injury; I threw retail fits in the mall on Friday (while he was in the car, mind you) which negatively affected his recovery and I am selfish.
Am I selfish? Sure I am. More than some, less than others. Are this blog or my “computing” a sign of my selfishness? No.
Did I throw fits? Yes. Did he witness them? No, I told him about them. I have very little no patience for retail incompetence and I ran into a lot of it in a very short period of time. I threw a DVD down on the seat of his car and complained. Big deal.
Am I unsanitary? Not really. Not for everyday use, anyway.
Now, about my “unrelenting search for dick.” This seemed complicated to me at first but it really isn’t. The Crusher, like my ex-lover Cecilio, thinks the words “computer” and “internet” are synonyms. They aren’t. Cecilio also thought that the computer was only good for one thing: finding dick. Fortunately, The Crusher doesn’t believe this. On the other hand, he thinks that’s the only reason I’m on the computer at any time and, while he claims to not be morally judging me, he really is. I mean, judging is what he does. So do I and it has been a basic part of our friendship.
When my computer is connected to the internets, I am usually signed onto, at least, ManHUNT. I am 51 years old and I love having sex. As I’ve said before, it’s important to me for a number of reasons. Besides, at my age, if I want to get laid—and I do—I gotta have the net out all the time. I am not so obsessive that I constantly flip through profiles looking for likely candidates. I let them find me. One thing I refuse to become is a predatory old troll. (I hate that term, troll but that’s what I’d be called, unfortunately.) Certainly, I have sex more than the average man my age but I don’t plan my day around it, except occasionally when I’m traveling.
I guess, since The Crusher is “over” having sex and being online, I’m supposed to be over it also. Sorry, but I’M NOT.
The discussion devolved into near-total insincerity with him saying he was really sorry to see me sitting around searching for dick all the time and wasting my graphic talents which could be making me RICH. As I said to him, believe me, I was wasting them long before I was online or having sex regularly. Besides, he clearly said it’s perfectly fine for him to be wasting his enormous talents because he has decided to live in and maintain the family house on The Cape. Please. There are these things called the internets now. People can work from anywhere.
Here’s how I see it: If I had been doing nearly anything else—reading a book or a magazine, polishing my jewelry, doing a Word-Search puzzle, knitting a gay tea cozy—there would not have been a hint of this insanity. Not a whisper. It was all about him finding it morally reprehensible when someone other then him looks for sex on the internet. What a steaming pile of shit.
That being said, am I a sex addict? Maybe. My suspicion is that I’m depressed and that being online, not having sex really, helps me think I’m filling the empty spaces. I’m not, of course, but that’s a discussion for another day. Right now, I’m exhausted. And I should get out of this place before they sweep me into the trash can.
Posted by HighStrungLoner in The High Strung Loner at 3:07 PM
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