..."Sometimes I thank God for Unanswered Prayers" Or maybe that the prayer was answered, and either because Father Knows Best or I asked amiss, the answer was "no". I was young, dumb, full of cum and braindead "enLIEtened" jingoism & therefore ignored many an obvious red flag especially regarding a girl we'll call Khazar Hickle. Yes, she was beautiful - atleast on the outside. What I didn't find out until later was she was shallow as a mud puddle and vain as could be. From the analytic perspective of now, I realize how much of that was lying about in piles large enough to trip over, but school days are filled with unrealistic indoctrination from BitchWorld, and we learn so much that is not so. Couple this with the deadweight of a single parent home that is cunt topheavy and you see the blinders were full-on. You always feel no price is too high for that cute little doggie in the window til you've dropped huge jack and a week later your home is a wreck centered around a $70 pair of chewed-up, genuine leather Cherokee moccasins and a living room carpet that stinks like a kennel. That's "puppy love" you're smelling! Fast forward a couple years and a ton of embarassments I won't expand on - in an environment full of her kind, on the back edge of the 1970s where DUMB-ass remarks like "one of those!" and "what do you expect, he's a man and you know how they are!" rolled like sewage rivers from the mouths of HITLERy Clinton-type Khazakh heifers who drone constantly out the other side of their face about "tolerance" & "equality" (egalitarianism) - we chanced to meet on opposite sides of a ping-pong table in PE class. No matter how much I tried to give her the match, I came up with points. And I play a shitty game of table tennis anyway! At one point I told her to stop throwing the game and she insisted she wasn't, but nothing changed. While the whole thing could have been a fluke, I doubt it, because I never saw her again after that. Much to my benefit. Time goes by and details surface, especially with such marvelous inventions as MySpace & FaceBook. Information often comes my way unsolicited from "friends" as well. Since my profile was hacked a dozen times shortly after an encounter with family, I took the liberty of anonymizing and bullshitizing it while such was still available, thus making it perfect for reconnaisance and checking up on old acquaintences, and Galt-in-Da-Box thoroughly encourages you to do the same: One cannot rob an empty safe and nobody wants to crack one that's full of bovine excrement. There are great benefits in using "handles" in public places - real or virtual - in which fools real names and too much information accompany their faces. Suffice it to say Mizz Hickle's deathstyle has pretty well gone the typical feminStaazi way: Marry dick with phat wallet whose been properly brainfilthied with the "worship the ground she walks on" dogma, check. Quit job, check. Plant ass on couch infront of idioTVision, check. Suck down massive quantities of "DEATHtime TV" bullshit, check. Put on 50#, check. Bobb hair, check. Keep entourage of fellow feminStaazi lesbians from school-days handy for shoulders to cry on when you don't get your way, check. Become lazy, ugly, leach, checkamundo! Meanwhile doubtless shriking endlessly about "you're never home! What about ME!?" at poor old bignose Irving Poindexterstein who has to carry her useless ass. I have to wonder if Irving is second or third in a row of emptied safes, but then again it's - thankfully - not my problem. Man am I glad I never got what I prayed for back then - in much the same way those who contemplated buying a Ford Escort or AMC Pacer and didn't, HAD to be rejoicing when they saw the Crap Lake those who screwed that pooch, ended up swimming in! Poor old "0yving", though...He needs all our prayers!