On Prostitution and Mountain Biking:
Thought for the Day:
Never pretend to a love which you do not actually feel, for love is not ours to command.
Alan Watts
A Somewhat Normal Day:
Yesterday after work I went to my favorite bar in the company of Pastor Bob. Pastor Bob is a man of many hobbies. His latest involves small arms and import and export licenses. What started out as a friendly Hot Toddy on a cold Indiana afternoon, quickly turned into a sales pitch reminiscent of high pressure time-share salesmen.
He wants to start a company and wants myself and a group on like minded individuals with certain skill sets to become investors and partners. After about an hour of his pitch, we were joined at the bar by M. Chamberlain, News Paper Man who brought welcome relief.
I was able to engage him in conversation about something other than projectile velocity and combat weight of currently fielded weapons systems. M. Chamberlain gave me the recaps of BBG’s Notre Dame Party and we naturally started discussing bowl game picks. After about a half an hour of this I left, Tuesday is after all the night I knit socks for the soldiers.
It was on my way home that fate played her hand. I suddenly got the urge to stop by one of the drinking establishments that caters to gentlemen of a different cultural background than my own. I am known in many places, this being one of them.
Upon arriving I told the bartender that it was nice to see the place without the customary Police Line Do Not Cross tape that often is stretched around the parking lot, his reply was that it had been a slow holiday weekend.
I like this place, its one of the few places you can still get pickle pigs feet and hot pickled eggs for 50 cents. While enjoying my Colt 45 Malt liquor and pigs feet, I was engaged in conversation by a gentleman who has in his employ several sex workers. Not knowing many pimps, I was intrigued. We spoke of his business and the ups and downs of the sex trade. It seems the worse the economy is the better his business is. He asked me if I was in the market for any of the full range of services that he could provide. I polity declined, however I did find his rates most reasonable.
He then asked if I was “in the market for any bikes”, “bikes?” I said, yes bikes. I told him I don’t have children, he replied, how about adult mountain bikes; new still in the box. “Just fell off the truck yesterday”. Well, not being one to pass a good deal, I followed him to his place of business, which oddly was right next to my one of my favorite Vietnamese restaurants. I met three of the nice ladies he had working for him, so nice in fact they helped load the bicycles into my truck (I am after all a disable veteran and my knee is giving me problems). My loving bride and I are now the proud owners of two brand new mountain bikes, both bought for the grand total of 30 dollars for the pair at a local bordello. All done before 6:30 on a Tuesday night.
Now other wives might be somewhat taken aback by the odd turn of events the day had in store for me. Not my wife, my flower was more than pleased with my purchase. Even enjoying the story about how the bikes came into my possession. Her statement was “don’t you wish you would have had someone with you, because you’re the only person I know of that this kind of shit happens to”. I told my flower that I didn’t need someone there to validate my story; riding on my new bike will be validation enough.
After that, we enjoyed a meal of hamburger steaks, homemade biscuits and fresh green vegetables (my loving wife cooked it all by herself). After such a fulfilling meal we found ourselves retiring to the master chambers to watch Law and Order until sleep took us. Yes, dear reader we were in bed asleep by 9pm. Such is just another day in the life of yours truly.
Today’s Bill:
"How now? A rat? Dead, for a ducat, dead!"
--From Hamlet (III, iv, 23)
Quote of the Day:
In America sex is an obsession, in other parts of the world it is a fact.
Marlene Dietrich
I remain, gently tapping, tapping at the chamber door:
JQP esq.
Never pretend to a love which you do not actually feel, for love is not ours to command.
Alan Watts
A Somewhat Normal Day:
Yesterday after work I went to my favorite bar in the company of Pastor Bob. Pastor Bob is a man of many hobbies. His latest involves small arms and import and export licenses. What started out as a friendly Hot Toddy on a cold Indiana afternoon, quickly turned into a sales pitch reminiscent of high pressure time-share salesmen.
He wants to start a company and wants myself and a group on like minded individuals with certain skill sets to become investors and partners. After about an hour of his pitch, we were joined at the bar by M. Chamberlain, News Paper Man who brought welcome relief.
I was able to engage him in conversation about something other than projectile velocity and combat weight of currently fielded weapons systems. M. Chamberlain gave me the recaps of BBG’s Notre Dame Party and we naturally started discussing bowl game picks. After about a half an hour of this I left, Tuesday is after all the night I knit socks for the soldiers.
It was on my way home that fate played her hand. I suddenly got the urge to stop by one of the drinking establishments that caters to gentlemen of a different cultural background than my own. I am known in many places, this being one of them.
Upon arriving I told the bartender that it was nice to see the place without the customary Police Line Do Not Cross tape that often is stretched around the parking lot, his reply was that it had been a slow holiday weekend.
I like this place, its one of the few places you can still get pickle pigs feet and hot pickled eggs for 50 cents. While enjoying my Colt 45 Malt liquor and pigs feet, I was engaged in conversation by a gentleman who has in his employ several sex workers. Not knowing many pimps, I was intrigued. We spoke of his business and the ups and downs of the sex trade. It seems the worse the economy is the better his business is. He asked me if I was in the market for any of the full range of services that he could provide. I polity declined, however I did find his rates most reasonable.
He then asked if I was “in the market for any bikes”, “bikes?” I said, yes bikes. I told him I don’t have children, he replied, how about adult mountain bikes; new still in the box. “Just fell off the truck yesterday”. Well, not being one to pass a good deal, I followed him to his place of business, which oddly was right next to my one of my favorite Vietnamese restaurants. I met three of the nice ladies he had working for him, so nice in fact they helped load the bicycles into my truck (I am after all a disable veteran and my knee is giving me problems). My loving bride and I are now the proud owners of two brand new mountain bikes, both bought for the grand total of 30 dollars for the pair at a local bordello. All done before 6:30 on a Tuesday night.
Now other wives might be somewhat taken aback by the odd turn of events the day had in store for me. Not my wife, my flower was more than pleased with my purchase. Even enjoying the story about how the bikes came into my possession. Her statement was “don’t you wish you would have had someone with you, because you’re the only person I know of that this kind of shit happens to”. I told my flower that I didn’t need someone there to validate my story; riding on my new bike will be validation enough.
After that, we enjoyed a meal of hamburger steaks, homemade biscuits and fresh green vegetables (my loving wife cooked it all by herself). After such a fulfilling meal we found ourselves retiring to the master chambers to watch Law and Order until sleep took us. Yes, dear reader we were in bed asleep by 9pm. Such is just another day in the life of yours truly.
Today’s Bill:
"How now? A rat? Dead, for a ducat, dead!"
--From Hamlet (III, iv, 23)
Quote of the Day:
In America sex is an obsession, in other parts of the world it is a fact.
Marlene Dietrich
I remain, gently tapping, tapping at the chamber door:
JQP esq.
posted by John Q. Public esq. at 6:23 AM
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