July 17, 2007

Gawd, I loves me some internet. Nothing like a little research to get perspective.

Needless to say, I have been obsessing on whether Blackbeard [note to readers: the code name has changed, due to my ever-present internet paranoia] is going to rendezvous this weekend, what I shall say, what I shall wear… all the while my gut telling me it’s a complete and total waste of time.

I think my gut was right, quelle surprise!

So I did me some research and I found me some fotos of ol’ Blackbeard. Nothing too scandalous, photoshoot stuff. Apparently, he models. Oooh, la, la. Here’s where I could say really, really mean things… but I will refrain, because he’s just trying to make it in this world, just like everyone else. And he actually is quite beautiful.

But I am pretty dang sure I got his number. I had it from day one, I just got sucked in by the hair and the eyes. And trust me honeys, if you could see them, you’d know why.

But let’s just say I researched who photographed him, and found that person’s Web site and wouldn’t you know it… that person is rather attractive and bears a faint resemblance to me and the little hamster wheels in my mind are spinning fast and bingo… I think I got this man’s game: he enjoys seducing blonde older women who he has no intention of doing anything with other than fucking [possibly very well, mind you — just try picture his endless eyes and the exquisite music he undoubtedly will select, so perfectly, and the arias and the impossible desire that must be fulfilled, how he must have you, come what may… yeah, picture all that in background, throw in some really good cologne, and you’ve got a rather exquisite fuck, I must say…] and making them fall horribly, deeply, hopelessly in love with him. And then he will leave. I KNOW this type so well, it is not even funny. I know all the signals, all the cues, everything. Dang.

When you’ve lived long enough, all the little games and intrigues and liasions dangereuses become so very… common.

So I’m back to wondering if I should even go this weekend. Why? To tell a master seducer that I’m on to him? I was thinking how good it would make me feel to tell him what he did and how it hurt me and how much I wanted to sing with him and how much I was learning and how could he destroy all of that and now I can’t because he ruined it yaddah, yaddah, yaddah… but seriously, what’s the point? As if those words will mean anything to him.

I don’t know… how about you, dear readers…? Would you go? I feel so strong. The photo I saw today took the edge off. I don’t think he’ll make my heart skip when I see him, as it usually does.

What to do, what to do…


One comment

  1. Well darling, if it’s going to make you feel better, then you should meet him. If you think you’re going to change him, then no. Personally, I’d let it go, but that’s just me.

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