Corporal

I am so so irritated with this mission of mine. I guess I'll have to declare it impossible and lay it to rest. But it doesn't stop me being irritated. And I am suddenly in a foul mood, I could really bite someone's head off and spit their brains out. Sounds gory, but I really could. And anyhow there are plenty of people whose heads are serve no purpose save for decoration because they would have no brains for me to spit out. I have two options, smoke myself to death or just scream. I could probably do both but then I really do not want a van from the mad house coming to pick me up at this unearthly hour. For the fragile, please stop reading here because it's bound to get worse. Ok, so here I go. I need some good old sound s and M where I could just switch and whip someone until they bleed, and watch the welts forming. Oh God, I'm so bad, but it's the truth here. And I know just the man to whip into submission. And it's my wild (but probably correct) guess that he too is into the stuff. A man, way too dominant during the daytime must turn into a sloppy pussy by night. Even the worst murderer has his right to tell his own version of the tale, let alone me or someone little. No I don't hate the guy which is another mystery. I actually think he does a good job, I think he does have brains, and I think he's ok. But that still doesn't let him off the hook; my hook of whipping him until he bleeds. And no, he will not have the right to speak because I'll gag him, tape his mouth if necessary so he won't even be able to beg for the mercy which he will need. And I'll take my time too. And this is so wild, coming from a girl so against corporal punishment. I'm still against corporal punishment in the real world, but this won't be the real world, it'll be the after-hours-my-kind-of-world. And the guy is crying for it so he also thank me. And this is all coming out of the frustration of not being able to find a couple of pants... sometimes anything is a good excuse for making people see themselves in the mirror and think twice next time.

Lost

I am on a mission which is proving impossible. It also is, by now, a 28 hour mission, and yet still impossible. I am trying to locate two pairs of trousers which go with two really classy suits I bought very recently. I just took the pants off for hem alteration, and hey presto I haven't the slightest clue where they've gone. To the moon perhaps? Because it really seems as they have disappeared without a trace. And I want to wear the suits, but cannot very well go pantless. And my birthday isn't due for three months so I cannot even wear my birthday suit.... must keep looking!

The smirk

I feel like a cat; a cat who got the cream, all of it. Finally life is going to start paying its retributions, and I suppose I shouldn't feel so smug, but then I am not so good. I am human and sometimes cannot help the odd smirk when I see something like what I've seen happening. Amazing. It is perhaps the one decent thing I have learnt after working for so many years in the music underworld... patience, and patience of a bad kind. But patience is still a virtue, even if it is of a bad kind. It only makes it a paradox, a bad virtue. I cannot help it, and I'm not even trying. I will probably end up in hell for this silent smirk which speaks volumes. But since I have had no hand in it, my guess is I can smirk, I can bask in the very bad glory. Because although it's bad, it's still glory. The people who thought me sinful just because I co-habitate now should think twice, thrice, four million times. And I've got the last laugh, which is one big laugh as in fortissimo. That's life.