eveningdrive: Summer, S.H.A.R.E. and Alicia Silverstone
I can't believe it! My buddy Robert has finally made it to the blog scene!
That means the world must be ending --- this house of cards is falling down, baby!
Seriously, from where my buddy comes from, he is so left-field his mind works in another ballpark! And then some!
Okay, let's see where this leads. Compare the following stuff from Robert 10 years ago with what I wrote in "Worshipping Beauty":
Unless of course, you females, being the sneaky lot you are, have found another way to twist us poor men into pitiful wretches, helpless puddles of slime who are always there for your convenience and your endless, impossible demands, and then leaving our withered husks by the roadside to the carrion eaters as you move on to your next game, your next conquest, your next prey. Watching. Stalking. Waiting intently for the time when he is most vulnerable, then snatching his soul and ripping his spirit apart into bloody shreds, rending him with claws of malice and guilt, tearing him with fangs of lies and promised affection, revelling in the spiritual, bloody gore that spills from his shattered being, then howling with delight at the full moon, as what was once a man stares at you with the eyes of the dead, with life gone, spirit broken, dreams shattered into a thousand tiny shards of despair. The memory of your face, a wraith feeding on his fevered brain, the sound of your voice a curse burning his ears 'til he can no longer hear the screeching sound of his heart breaking , his agonized shouts begging to break out past gray, cadaverous lips. Lips that still remember the sweetness of yours, never tasting the poisoned taint 'til it was too late! Lips of yours that kissed and drew blood, a kiss of cruelty that shouts louder than the deafening silence of the night, unformed tears surrendering to your call: "I own you now. To do what I will, to be crucified along the roadside to entertain the passers-by, to tell them that I have taken you, and there you will rot. You will consume yourself in your desire to please me, you will forget who you are to always remember me, and you will toss away your dignity because I have no use for it. For you are mine, to do what I will!" Harbringers of pain and misery, agents of passion and bedevilment, what weapons can we men wield against you? What shield will protect us from your angelic smile and the hidden, venom-wrapped blade behind your back? What wall can we cower behind, to hide from the spectre of your touch and its dark, forbidden promises? What can save us from your infinite, deadly charms? What will eventually earn us redemption from the purgatory that you make of our world?
And so we die.
Yup, I did unscrupulously rip him off. Best praise I can give him yet.
Welcome to blogging, Robert!