Before I go any further a quick link to the the 1974 Mud track on YouTube – http://youtu.be/DZ8-UT8ojrk
Now, I have to confess to floating around in the seventies, on the roads, over the christmas holidays, back then it was tough buying fuel as everything was shut so maybe you’d syphon a gallon or two, and of course there were no mobiles or internet so if you wanted to stop by and say “Hey man” you had to do it in person.
Some people you called on were out, presumably doing the same thing, doing their own thing, some were in and welcomed you in for a hot drink, a piss, warm your toes and off you go again, and of course many were “in with family”, and they would come out to you rather than invite you (not that you would accept an invite in to a family do) and many were in partying family and friends.
Lots of people looked at you like you were a loser, the lonely homeless bastard and all that crap, they never knew about the Red Lion, which was effectively open 24/7 from Christmas to New Year for those in the know, pull in sleep, grab a bite to eat, drink, talk and hit the road again, nor did they know the incredible colour of purple you got as the pre-dawn sky reflected off your chrome fuel tank as you stopped for a piss break, or the sense of being alone and loving it in a post apocalyptic world as you blatted down streets and roads abandoned by humans and vehicles for the duration.
Yes, I was always on the outside looking in, and I have to say it didn’t bother me because the price of being on the inside was my freedom.
So we skip forwards a few decades to the closing days of Anno Domini 2011 and what do we find, AfOR sitting quietly and enjoying his own version of christmas, and now there are mobile phones and the internet, and guess what, PoF (Plenty of Fish) is chock full of skank ho’s who are online all christmas eve evening, and all christmas day mornings, and they are all looking for a man like AfOR to empty his sack into them, and lets face it there are a shit load more broken homes than in the seventies, and a shit load less family and extended family homes enjoying the festive season, lots of “single” people in vehicles playing santa’s sad sack of shit delivering presents to ex’s family / kids / relations etc.
Wimminz are social creatures see, nothing worse to them than not being needed or wanted at Christmas, and if the cure to that means getting their asses online with a mouse in one hand and a glass of supermarket wine in the other than that is exactly what they will do, and since the wimminz are doing it, it is no longer the role of the loser, the lonely surplus bastard and all that crap, suddenly it is something that the wimminz have to cope with and boy do they ever.
Thankfully they all have the Television on, which streams a constant river of bullshit into their minds, none of which has anything positive to say about the woman at home alone at christmas, hell, none of which even mentions the woman at home alone at christmas, so they are overcome with a desperate urge to fit in.
And then a funny thing happens.
And that funny thing reminds me of the seventies, being on the outside while the christmas parties and lights and warmth was going on inside, not because it is the same, but because it is ALMOST the same, but VERY different in important ways.
It is different because I had spent the time leading up to christmas in the seventies saying “Thanks but no” to the party invites, to the marriage proposals, to the join our gang offers, and the ones who usually looked at me with that “what a lonely loser” look in their eyes conveniently forgot that I did not want what was offered, the price was too fucking high.
I used to own and wear a tee shirt, it said ;
AS YOU ARE NOW, I ONCE WAS.
AS I AM NOW, YOU WILL NEVER BE.
I did not have it on but can distinctly recall wishing I had worn it on many occasions on many Christmases in the seventies, just to express MY feelings and responses to their looks of “what a lonely loser” at me.
Which brings me to Xmas 2011 skank ho’s online throughout the festive period, and no doubt through the New year too.
Different in important ways from me back in the seventies, and me now, because I never wanted to get into those parties, and todays skank ho’s act like EVE kicked out of the garden of Eden for fucking the serpent, and desperate desperate desperate to get back in.
So I sit here, typing this, while my mobile pops up with SMS messages from my current sluts saying “Merry Christmas Master” and hoping that I will get back to them and use and abuse their bodies for my own sexual pleasures…. it’s not the garden of Eden but it is the closest they are ever going to get in the future, and we both know it, and the punchline is they are the EXACT sort of skanks who used to look at me and think “what a lonely loser” back in the seventies……
Related articles
- Merry Christmas kids (wimminz.wordpress.com)
- The unravelling of an attitude. (wimminz.wordpress.com)
- My children come first… and other fucking lies (wimminz.wordpress.com)
- Hitting the targets. (wimminz.wordpress.com)
- ….of sealing wax and string (wimminz.wordpress.com)
- I got a girl she lives on a hill… (wimminz.wordpress.com)
- Christmas…”Ho Ho” to “Ho Hum” (sexdownunder.wordpress.com)
- Lonely Christmas (confessionsofmissred.wordpress.com)
- On being lonely at Christmas (blogs.telegraph.co.uk)
- Not the best start to Christmas Day [Roger Vanstone] (ecademy.com)
- Celebrating Solo (truthseeker411.com)
- Bizarre Gift Ideas For Lonely Shut-Ins (gizmodo.com.au)
