My Probable Fate

Two of my ex-girflriends have a birthday today.
Coincidence?
I think so.
But you never know.
Perhaps I'm meant to dissatisfy women born on this day.
So look out Molly Ringwald and Vanna White.
Now that would be a ménage à trois worth videotaping and leaking to the internet.

I had a chaperoned date last week.
Which was very lovely.
Shandera dropped me off at the locale.
And when he was ready to drive me home, he texted.
She's more well-read than me.
I enjoy that in a woman.
She also wears those glasses that I like.
And when she knows that tea costs the same, no matter the size, she gets the large.
So obviously she has a good head on her shoulders.
Which is where it's supposed to be.
So that's complimentary.

I had a marriage proposal all lined up for Turpin, you know.
It really is quite perfect.
So I'll likely save it for whichever ex-con I plan to marry.
My great fear is that they won't get it.
Even though Peter took a bullet for me, I have dreams sometimes.
That Turpin will steal me away.
To do her washing and listen to her drone on and on about cookware.

Speaking of overcrowded prisons.
What happened to public executions?
There wouldn't be nearly as much film piracy if we had a guillotine set up in front of the mall.
'Piracy' is too flattering a term for what they do, by the way.
Historically speaking, pirates are nearly as admirable a crime syndicate as the mob.
'At-home shoplifting'.
That's what film piracy should be called.
Let's put these wusses in their place.

Serving convicts should be required to read Robert Munsch books to one another.
Before lights out.
Each and every night.
No one is going to whittle their toothbrush into a shiv and then stab their roommate with it.
Not if that roommate just finished reading them Murmel Murmel Murmel.