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Tuesday, November 4, 2008

A writer is a true voyeur...until he's caught; then it's research.

And so our idyllic little home was intruded upon by a neighbor. A very attractive, Australian neighbor. She kept to herself and worked odd hours so we had very little interaction.

I was home alone one afternoon as the wife was probably at Emeralds to Coconuts (her favorite store) spending money we didn't have on shit we did not need.

Our Labrador was in need of some outside time so I walked to our kitchen prepared to let him out. I was not prepared for what was in the backyard.

Apparently our neighbor had the day off, or, a stark naked, bald headed alien was sunning herself in our backyard.

Holy shit.

I stood at the backdoor window transfixed; unable to move, my breath forming condensation on the glass. She was tan. Really tan. Everywhere. And she was liberally applying oil to places only her Doctor could be proud of. Wow.

My dog whined to go out and I gave him a sharp kick to the slats. "Not now, you moron..." I had no idea why she was bald, I simply knew it was wildly attractive and much like an old joke I was fond of.

"Do you know the similarity between a 9 volt battery and a woman's butt hole?"

"You know it's wrong but eventually you want to put the tongue to it."

Her breasts were magnificent but her head was gorgeous. Tan and shiny and smooth, it was like a third breast on top of her shoulders, put there to keep the rain out of her neck.

I suddenly felt the need to pleasure myself, much like Cardinal Richelieu at a Boy Scout Jamboree, and then I felt someone behind me.

The wife had returned.

"OH, " my voice cracked, "You're home?"

She could see past me through the window and I felt her next question entirely superfluous.

"" she hissed, giving me a look that could wither flesh, and did, if I recall.

I then reverted to thousands of years of male conditioning, responding from the deep end of my gene pool.


My new disclaimer...yeah I know.

Okay, the old disclaimer was tired. The ideas were outdated and keeping me stuck in a place I don't want to be now for something more refreshing.

I have recently changed my views regarding women. Seems I had some issues with the fairer sex due to past pain and self- centered fear. (Yes...duh applies.)

I'm done with that.

Being in recovery has helped me change my entire life, perceptions and attitudes. I cannot change my history but I can change my today and my future.

I recently realized that the women I know in recovery are some of the strongest, bravest, most gentle and kind teachers I have ever had. You exemplify integrity and spiritual growth, and I hope you know who you are.

Some may know of my past marital and relationship history and been a participant in them as well. It's past and that's where it the past.

I own my part in those failures but claim no more responsibility in any misery you may be experiencing. I am sorry, but it's time to get off the cross. We need the wood.

Thank you all...