m

[Rat Bag]

"Same with guys. I got three calling me! Amazing how all that stops beyond the word yes."

awww, so cynical?

Three "no"s and it's "ba deep, beep, beep, beep..."

[stilltrucking]

Indeed, keep a woman at a distance and bingo! Their all over ya like flies on shit. Same with guys. I got three calling me! Amazing how all that stops beyond the word yes.

Yeah
Got dam there I was with pouring out my tale of woe, and she said yes. Shook me up, I tell you Hester. paralyzed with fear. Haunted by impotence. Fucking male ego's so got dam fragile.

Go away Hester you are scaring us

[hester_prynne]

sinical.
cynical.

"last time I saw richard was in detroit in 68,
an he told me,
all romantics meet the sa a a ame fate,
sometime,
cynical and drunk,
boring someone in some
dark cafe eh eh.....

...you laff, you think you're amused
go look at your eye eye eye eyes,
there full of moon,
you like roses
and kisses
and pretty men to tell you
all those pretty lies....

...i'm gonna blow this dam candle out,
I don want nobody comin over to my i i table
I ain't got nothin to talk to anybody about,
all good dreamers pa a ass this way,
someday,
hidin behind bottles
in dark cafes'
da rk cafes.....
only a cocoon,
until I get my go or orgeous wings
and fly i i away,
only a phase,
these dark
cafe
days...."

joni mitchell

[stilltrucking]

"you don't like strong women cause their hip to your tricks" Joni Mitchell? paraphrase from memory

Yep Joni Mitchell

If you’re driving into town
With a dark cloud above you
Dial in the number
Who’s bound to love you
Oh honey you turn me on
I’m a radio
I’m a country station
I’m a little bit corny
I’m a wildwood flower
Waving for you
Broadcasting tower
Waving for you
And I’m sending you out
This signal here
I hope you can pick it up
Loud and clear
I know you don’t like weak women
You get bored so quick
And you don’t like strong women
’cause they’re hip to your tricks
It’s been dirty for dirty
Down the line
But you know
I come when you whistle
When you’re loving and kind
But if you’ve got too many doubts
If there’s no good reception for me
Then tune me out, ’cause honey
Who needs the static
It hurts the head
And you wind up cracking
And the day goes dismal
From breakfast barney
To the sign-off prayer
What a sorry face you get to wear
I’m going to tell you again now
If you’re still listening there
If you’re driving into town
With a dark cloud above you
Dial in the number
Who’s bound to love you
If you’re lying on the beach
With the transistor going
Kick off the sandflies honey
The love’s still flowing
If your head says forget it
But your heart’s still smoking
Call me at the station
The lines are open
_________________

maudlin

• adjective self-pityingly or tearfully sentimental.

— ORIGIN from the name of Mary Magdalen in the Bible, typically
depicted weeping

I been feeling pretty maudlin lately

This is probably the JM song I think about most these days, so much lust in my heart. so horny I been hallucinating, just the other day I saw a woman's breast point an accusing nipple at me. I have never heard her sing this song but I sure would like too.
I finally got detached from my sexual pathos, believe it or not my love life is finally come to love my life, such as it is. Almost miss the truckin more than the fukin.

I think they finally shut it down around 1975

The Magdelene Laundries.

I was an unmarried girl
I'd just turned twenty-seven
When they sent me to the sisters
For the way men looked at me
Branded as a jezebel
I knew I was not bound for Heaven
I'd be cast in shame
Into the Magdalene laundries
Most girls come here pregnant
Some by their own fathers
Bridget got that belly
By her parish priest
We're trying to get things white as snow
All of us woe-begotten-daughters
In the streaming stains
Of the Magdalene laundries
Prostitutes and destitutes
And temptresses like me--
Fallen women--
Sentenced into dreamless drudgery ...
Why do they call this heartless place
Our Lady of Charity?
Oh charity!
These bloodless brides of Jesus
If they had just once glimpsed their groom
Then they'd know, and they'd drop the stones
Concealed behind their rosaries
They wilt the grass they walk upon
They leech the light out of a room
They'd like to drive us down the drain
At the Magdalene laundries
Peg O'Connell died today
She was a cheeky girl
A flirt
They just stuffed her in a hole!
Surely to God you'd think at least some bells should ring!
One day I'm going to die here too
And they'll plant me in the dirt
Like some lame bulb
That never blooms come any spring
Not any spring
No, not any spring
Not any spring

Everytime I find my self lusting after a woman in my heart