I'm looking at the man in the mirror
I know I haven’t written in quite some time, and for that I apologize. Before you judge me too harshly, just hear me out. And I know, excuses are like assholes, everybody has one and they all stink. But also like assholes, I have two excuses. First, I work a lot. That’s pretty self explanatory. The second reason…well, that takes a little more explanation.
You see, I’ve developed an interest in someone other than my wife. And that interest takes a significant portion of my time - thinking about this person, trying to catch glimpses of them, etc. I know it’s wrong to announce a bombshell like that on the internets before I‘ve even told my wife, the lovely Legal Counsel, but I don’t have the chutzpah to say it to her face and she has to find out somehow.
The person of interest in this scenario is our neighbor. A magnificent specimen of a human being, I must say. I first laid eyes on him fairly soon after moving into our marital nest, but my infatuation has taken some time to blossom.
He’s in his late forties or early fifties. He’s not a fan of wearing shirts while in his condo, or of keeping the blinds closed, or of exercise. He is a fan of food, and watching TV, and body hair. I’ve tried to come up with the best way to describe him, and I’ve found that I need to invent new phrases to adequately illustrate his semblance. The two best are fleshglobe and meatsphere.
If you had a friend who thought himself to be hilarious but others thought to be vulgar and offensive (aka Montgomery), and that friend decided to dress as a giant scrotum for Halloween, he would probably look much like our neighbor. Round…hairy…but not quite as wrinkly as the real thing.
Normally I wouldn’t be so concerned with a morbidly obese man. A person’s health and lifestyle are their own business and I’m no Adonis myself. But this guy’s body is so prominently and unashamedly on display that I feel he’s inviting discussion. Hell, this could be some really high concept modern art exhibit of which I’m totally oblivious. And if it is, then I say bravo. This is way more provocative than that Jackson Pollack hack.
So I find myself walking back and forth between my car and my condo, hoping that he’ll be there in all his half-naked, quarter-ton glory. So every time you find yourself on my blog and fail to see a new post, realize that I’m thinking of that beefcake. And you should do the same thing.
Ooh, beefcake - that’s another good descriptor.
You see, I’ve developed an interest in someone other than my wife. And that interest takes a significant portion of my time - thinking about this person, trying to catch glimpses of them, etc. I know it’s wrong to announce a bombshell like that on the internets before I‘ve even told my wife, the lovely Legal Counsel, but I don’t have the chutzpah to say it to her face and she has to find out somehow.
The person of interest in this scenario is our neighbor. A magnificent specimen of a human being, I must say. I first laid eyes on him fairly soon after moving into our marital nest, but my infatuation has taken some time to blossom.
He’s in his late forties or early fifties. He’s not a fan of wearing shirts while in his condo, or of keeping the blinds closed, or of exercise. He is a fan of food, and watching TV, and body hair. I’ve tried to come up with the best way to describe him, and I’ve found that I need to invent new phrases to adequately illustrate his semblance. The two best are fleshglobe and meatsphere.
If you had a friend who thought himself to be hilarious but others thought to be vulgar and offensive (aka Montgomery), and that friend decided to dress as a giant scrotum for Halloween, he would probably look much like our neighbor. Round…hairy…but not quite as wrinkly as the real thing.
Normally I wouldn’t be so concerned with a morbidly obese man. A person’s health and lifestyle are their own business and I’m no Adonis myself. But this guy’s body is so prominently and unashamedly on display that I feel he’s inviting discussion. Hell, this could be some really high concept modern art exhibit of which I’m totally oblivious. And if it is, then I say bravo. This is way more provocative than that Jackson Pollack hack.
So I find myself walking back and forth between my car and my condo, hoping that he’ll be there in all his half-naked, quarter-ton glory. So every time you find yourself on my blog and fail to see a new post, realize that I’m thinking of that beefcake. And you should do the same thing.
Ooh, beefcake - that’s another good descriptor.
posted by Montgomery at 4:35 PM
1 Comments:
Yay Monty! Welcome back!! I'm so glad I have made the commitment to come back once a month or so to check to see if you've returning. Its been many long months of sadness, disappointment, anger, denial, hunger, and uncomfortable itching. But this time I have been rewarded! Please Monty, return to your life of blogging.
PS: I know I have a name related to my own blog, but this is the same Kate that was your former boss and then landlord. Hello to you and LC!
Post a Comment
<< Home