Wednesday, February 15, 2006
WBW: Old Flames Die Hard
This is where a picture of an old boyfriend would be if I had one. A picture, that is, not an old boyfriend. I had a few of those, but I've been with Papa now for nearly half my life and the photos of former loves are MIA. Hey, we've moved, we've purged, we've moved again. Make note I'm the one that was happy to see those photos go. Papa wouldn't have cared and probably would have been intrigued (or found great humor). Really I have no desire to hold on to a picture of the Greatest Loser On Earth. Even now I shudder at the time he spent in my life. Still I consider that little life lesson well learned if only to know what I did NOT want in a mate.
I'm just sayin'.
The only other picture I had was an obituary of a guy I "went with" when I was in 8th grade. He too was a loser. Years later as Papa and I were having coffee whilest reading the Statesman I saw a memorium to the Other Loser, ahem, boyfriend. Not to speak ill of the dead, but then boyfriend was 19 when I was 14 and he was still hanging out with kids my age. Not in a perverted, child molester sort of way, but more of Peter Pan variety. Anyway, it seems he was lost in the Adriadic Sea some time in the late 1980's, early 1990's. Yikes! How depressing.
On a slightly different note, but not really if your stretch your mind, is there nothing better than sitting on the throne in the loo and finding one little square of t.p.? J-boy to me, "but Moooooommmmm, I wasn't the last one to use the toilet paper. Look there's some left!"
One fucking squre.