When I reflect on the stupidity that is my life and is chronicled here, it makes me wonder if life has just become cheap like some sleazy B-movie. Spending day after day having to ***. That's all we need now, a 30-year-old *** waxing philosophic about life, eh? Let's face it, though, I feel like I'm living at Melrose Place (minus all the babes, too bad it's the HUD Roach Motel). But, hey! I'm an eunuch! A true eunuch must master the eunuch-like behavior that I discussed a few weeks ago. That means perfecting the monotone voice, the total lack of *** expression (stoneface), the rigid posture and robotic movements (why I'm obessed with Daleks), and the total absence of displacement gestures (exaggerated movements). Naturally, if you are invisible like myself, you need not worry about any of this. The most important attribute of eunuch-like behavior is the absence of eye contact. It is essential to never make eye contact for even a microsecond. In a place like the p
izza parlor, that would be difficult considering the number of mirrors, so to speak, around. One could foolishly be gazing in no particular direction, then suddenly notice that one is inadvertently staring at some babe through a reflection. If the individual in question is a stud, no problem. But, if the unwitting perpetrator is a loser, watch out! In these kinds of situations, it is best to just look at the floor, or better yet, wear some extremely dark shades. I need to get a pair that are mirrored on the inside. I am a loser, I'm a 30-year-old-***, and I'm proud to be so inept!