A mosquito
With the Olympics or Games of the XXIX Olympiad officially under way,
all talk is currently on SPORTS at least for a month or so. Well for some it is their life.
The human condition seems to thrive on competitiveness and there is certainly
no better outlet than your average sports game.
Whether it is the vision of themselves in past glory, the increasing 'celebritydom' of
sports heroes (and anti-heroes), the sound of flesh and bone in graceful action,
the highs, the lows, the drama of off the field romances, the tragedy of signings to
other teams (or countries), the colourful rants of commentators, and
the violent brawls between the competitors people can't seem to get enough.
Sports consumes people and vice versa.
I watched what some would call bits of the opening ceremony the other night.
I was curious. Inspired by all this sports talk - the other day I signed up to play
baseball. So this summer you'll most likely find me violently brawling on a
baseball diamond and releasing pent up anger by hitting 142 grams of cork
and cows hide into the air.
The body instantly transports itself at the end of a grueling shift to what
some would say a state of exuberance. And rarely ever exceeds relief
when its a night shift.
Tonight was not a good night; my car would not start.
Coughing and wheezing I proceeded to panic and cursed the heavens as
I picked up the phone to call in the Emergency Road Service Guy (ERSG).
After giving concise directions to the customer rep of my location I was
informed it would be up to an hour or so until ERSG would arrive.
The prospect of waiting in a deserted parking lot after spending most of the
day at work gave me a hunger for drugs. The heavier the better.
However, the incident made me think about the car not starting as a metaphor
for the libido. Well I only contemplated this an hour later while
threading through SG. I don't have sex on the mind every minute of
every day I am not a fucking sex maniac ok!
...what happens?
When your in the driver's seat and you insert the key and you turn to click
the ignition on and ...nothing happens? You try again because all of the
other times it has clicked ON the second time round.
You try because its the only way you'll get anywhere. You speak to the car
in the hope it will suddenly be your friend and start.
But nothing happens the motor doesn't click over, the sound remains dead
and all you can hear is a quiet choke.
What happens? If for some unnatural reason you couldn't 'get it going' with
a woman, what do you do? Do you call for an ERSG?
Please don't take this as a cry for help that I have reached that stage.
I honestly have NEVER thought about this before today. I sure as hell
hope I don't ever have to go through the agony.
With the Olympics or Games of the XXIX Olympiad officially under way,
all talk is currently on SPORTS at least for a month or so. Well for some it is their life.
The human condition seems to thrive on competitiveness and there is certainly
no better outlet than your average sports game.
Whether it is the vision of themselves in past glory, the increasing 'celebritydom' of
sports heroes (and anti-heroes), the sound of flesh and bone in graceful action,
the highs, the lows, the drama of off the field romances, the tragedy of signings to
other teams (or countries), the colourful rants of commentators, and
the violent brawls between the competitors people can't seem to get enough.
Sports consumes people and vice versa.
I watched what some would call bits of the opening ceremony the other night.
I was curious. Inspired by all this sports talk - the other day I signed up to play
baseball. So this summer you'll most likely find me violently brawling on a
baseball diamond and releasing pent up anger by hitting 142 grams of cork
and cows hide into the air.
The body instantly transports itself at the end of a grueling shift to what
some would say a state of exuberance. And rarely ever exceeds relief
when its a night shift.
Tonight was not a good night; my car would not start.
Coughing and wheezing I proceeded to panic and cursed the heavens as
I picked up the phone to call in the Emergency Road Service Guy (ERSG).
After giving concise directions to the customer rep of my location I was
informed it would be up to an hour or so until ERSG would arrive.
The prospect of waiting in a deserted parking lot after spending most of the
day at work gave me a hunger for drugs. The heavier the better.
However, the incident made me think about the car not starting as a metaphor
for the libido. Well I only contemplated this an hour later while
threading through SG. I don't have sex on the mind every minute of
every day I am not a fucking sex maniac ok!
...what happens?
When your in the driver's seat and you insert the key and you turn to click
the ignition on and ...nothing happens? You try again because all of the
other times it has clicked ON the second time round.
You try because its the only way you'll get anywhere. You speak to the car
in the hope it will suddenly be your friend and start.
But nothing happens the motor doesn't click over, the sound remains dead
and all you can hear is a quiet choke.
What happens? If for some unnatural reason you couldn't 'get it going' with
a woman, what do you do? Do you call for an ERSG?
Please don't take this as a cry for help that I have reached that stage.
I honestly have NEVER thought about this before today. I sure as hell
hope I don't ever have to go through the agony.
VIEW 10 of 10 COMMENTS
I like the way you write, paragraphs and such ... but I'm too tired to read it. ...