Wednesday, April 14, 2004

A Springtime Rant

It never does seem to turn out right, does it? That spring time fling. At least the summer fling has better sex. The Spring Thing isn't even really a fling. It's hormones. It's the hormones that make her look so pretty under that particular light. They now know that the brain secretes a secific chemical that, you know....It's like those last few shots at last call...The bartender starts to look good, you know? That's not a Fling. That's hormones.
A Fling has passion. A fling is something you meet by accident just when you'd stopped trying. It is perfectly reasonable to stand on someones street for several hours because one must preserve the integrity of the Fling. A Fling hurts...
Consider: "I was most greaviously injured when the flinged thing, which I belive had wings, came crashing into the side of my skull, causing temporary bouts of Touretes."
I think I'll skip spring altogether and wait for summer. Who knows... things could look better from the other side of several cocktails....

No comments: