Confessions (FRL crosspost)

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All right, I knew it was wrong. I knew it was dumb. I knew I would have to hide it from my family and friends. If discovered, I knew I would have to bear the stigma of it for the rest of my life, an outcast, ridiculed by polite society, forced to exist on the fringes of civilization, forever unable to lift my face among those who had known me, nurtured me.

I KNEW. I knew the consequences, and yet, I could not resist the sudden impulse. I could not override the savage demands of my own frail human body. Sadly, and to my everlasting shame, I could not just walk away. The temptations of the flesh, kept at bay for so many years, came welling up inside my trembling shell and overthrew the artificially cultivated vestiges of decency, intellect, and basic self respect. In my moment of weakness, I threw away all that was my heritage of culture, scholarship, urbanity; embracing instead the demons waiting within the unwashed recesses of my soul, the coarseness of vulgarity, the crudity of tastelessness which reveled behind my empty eyes, and danced within the hollow ruins of the cathedral which had been my ordered life.

As my sole defense, I can only plead that it was not a premeditated action, not something that I got up that morning planning to do, not something I had ever considered in conscious thought. I entered late into my dwelling, and was simply overwhelmed by an accidental opportunity. I failed to realize in my moment of ill-advised decision, that unplanned opportunity is oft-times the doorman of Hell. I huddled, partly hidden behind the sofa as if the solitary eye of the demon could see me as surely as I gazed into itís voyeuristic fantasies, mesmerized in my role as observer, as despicable as a peeping Tom in a convent. After a moment, my die had been cast, I could not turn away, I could not resist. In a simple stupor of acquiescence, I stayed, watched, partook. And when the referee finally pulled the raging bull, TNT Tonya, away from the pitifully defeated Paula the Pounder, my heart gave a cry of release, and I slunk away like any slimy thing to vanish into my own pit of convulsive introspection.

Forgive me if you can; condemn me if you must. I throw myself upon your mercies.

-- hiding (in shame@the.bayou), March 14, 2002

Answers

Heck! I flopped on the couch, flipped the remote to Fox and wallowed like a hog in the dinner slops. When all was said and done, I arose a better man for having spent some silly time.

-- Little Nipper (canis@minor.net), March 14, 2002.

LN:

You are lucky. I don't get any of the artsy, high brow channels like FOX. I didn't get to see it. ;<)))

Best Wishes,,,,,

Z

-- Z1X4Y7 (Z1X4Y7@aol.com), March 14, 2002.


Danny & Tonya woulda made a better match. Maybe next time.

-- Carlos (riffraff@cybertime.net), March 14, 2002.

Doesn't surprise me a bit LN. Do you ever watch Pro Wrestling?

-- bogsworth (running@on.8cylinders), March 17, 2002.

No. This was a one-off, as befitted the unique nature of the bout. When WWF can come up with something as bizarrely compelling as Tonya v. Paula, I might reconsider my aversion. Until then, they're as entertaining to watch as grits congealing in gravy.

-- Little Nipper (canis@minor.net), March 17, 2002.


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