Way to shoot me with my issues Lucille "I HAVE MORE FACES THAN A GEMINI" Delton.
I don't self-analyze much, it's not my style, because I know who I am. I have to clarify this here in MY blog, lest someone think I'm populating THEIR blog. I was going to leave this as a comment, but it sort of turned into an entry, and why not? If the world knows it just makes for better coffee conversation.
First, let me clarify why I dedicate oh so much blog space to Lucille Delton and bet shit like move in with her for 30 days and call her names and abuse and taunt her.
Obviously, I like her.
Like you didn't see that coming.
There's more to it. Out of all the people that populate this sinister limbo of life, Lucille is the one most like me. Which is at times cute and at others kinda scary. I'd love it if we were very similar, but we're not. Yes, I know that just makes what I said confusing. Here's the deal:
Why SheHoe and Narthurloony are alike:
a. We were born in the same year. We're the same age. In limbo land, we were born in the same generation and got tossed to the side by our no-good parents.
b. We were both extremely good at being extremely bad.
c. We both went through the spiritual transformation equivalent of winning The Biggest Loser Reality TV Show.
d. We both got a second chance to prove ourselves to other people.
e. We both switch careers like crazy people.
a. We were born in the same year. We're the same age. In limbo land, we were born in the same generation and got tossed to the side by our no-good parents.
b. We were both extremely good at being extremely bad.
c. We both went through the spiritual transformation equivalent of winning The Biggest Loser Reality TV Show.
d. We both got a second chance to prove ourselves to other people.
e. We both switch careers like crazy people.
But this is where the similarities end. We're not very similar at all. We have these things in common that appear fundamental but at the core we're very different.
So I set myself up to comparison, saying that we're alike, and we both said it when we met. But when I see Loony Lucy running around and wetting her bed linens with mopey tears, I know for sure we're nothing alike.
And that's where we are so different.
I see this girl, making every possible move to change or be herself or turn into someone else and I think to myself. Wow. You're aware that's never gonna happen.
A leopard doesn't change its spots. You can dress up the leopard, you can tame it, you can calm it down, but it's still and will always be a wild predator.
Lucille, you're a nice girl. A nice girl, who is extremely good at being extremely bad. You're a femme fatale under wraps. You should be an international spy killing bad ass mofos, sleeping with random men a la Bond, Jane Bond and coming home to a loving husband who doesn't care if you slept with half the world and left a trail of blood so long as you share with him you're favorite chai vanilla tea and smile.
You're a hell of a lot more fun than Ashley is. You just don't know it.
Why do I bother you so much? Because you're killing that awesome chick. You want people to like you but their opinions don't matter. You feel left out from your family because the Deltons don't really love you, they see you as a tool and the moment I saw you I knew that was the one thing you needed. Love. I said that word and your whole universe just went KABOOOM for some reason. Suddenly you were rampant in search for love, and depressed because you'd realized you didn't have it. And you started turning into different women, Lucia's, Pucia's, Lucillia's, wtf? I don't know? Like turning into different women would get you someone who loved anyone of THOSE women. Like any of these women held the answer to who you truly are.
LIKE YOUR GRANNY KNOWS WHO THE FUCK YOU ARE.
I totally dig that you and my step-brother gave it a go, but it failed. I like that, because Christian wasn't dating Lucille. He was dating Lucille-who-wants-to-run-away-from-Lucille. A girl within a girl. At least, that's the Lucille I saw, because I met you years ago, before any of these other people existed and I observed you. If that is who you are now, then hey, ok, you succeeded in transforming yourself, good for you, I'm sure you'll make it work. But if there's even a slight hint of who you were inside of all that glitz, that's a girl I seriously dug. If she's gone, then I don't mind having sex with your body and pretending that's the real one I'm fucking.
I set myself up a lot, and that has never changed. For example, in the past, I dated this girl, Katrina (or she who should NEVER be named) and I only did it to piss off my little brother. Nicholas, I don't think you've met him? I didn't like Katrina, not really. She was a virgin and I wanted to pop her cherry. I wanted to see Nicholas cry. I wanted to show him who was boss. End of story. I'm a mean guy.
I haven't stopped being this guy. If anything I've just become better at it.
I knew this was toxic, I knew it. But did that stop me? Noooo. I follow through with whatever sick game I'm playing until the very end. I drop hints only every now and then, far down the line, when I know they'll do the most damage, or when I know they'll at least register shock.
So here's my confession of the day: I didn't fuck Caroline because I liked Caroline. I fucked Caroline because she reminds me of Lucille Delton; just a dumber, more boring and flat-chested version.
This confession may not matter to you at this point, but it matters to me. And hey, this is MY blog after all. See, I'm respectful of people's space.
Toodles,
Disco Stick
So I set myself up to comparison, saying that we're alike, and we both said it when we met. But when I see Loony Lucy running around and wetting her bed linens with mopey tears, I know for sure we're nothing alike.
I never tried to actually find myself.
And that's where we are so different.
I see this girl, making every possible move to change or be herself or turn into someone else and I think to myself. Wow. You're aware that's never gonna happen.
A leopard doesn't change its spots. You can dress up the leopard, you can tame it, you can calm it down, but it's still and will always be a wild predator.
Lucille, you're a nice girl. A nice girl, who is extremely good at being extremely bad. You're a femme fatale under wraps. You should be an international spy killing bad ass mofos, sleeping with random men a la Bond, Jane Bond and coming home to a loving husband who doesn't care if you slept with half the world and left a trail of blood so long as you share with him you're favorite chai vanilla tea and smile.
You're a hell of a lot more fun than Ashley is. You just don't know it.
Why do I bother you so much? Because you're killing that awesome chick. You want people to like you but their opinions don't matter. You feel left out from your family because the Deltons don't really love you, they see you as a tool and the moment I saw you I knew that was the one thing you needed. Love. I said that word and your whole universe just went KABOOOM for some reason. Suddenly you were rampant in search for love, and depressed because you'd realized you didn't have it. And you started turning into different women, Lucia's, Pucia's, Lucillia's, wtf? I don't know? Like turning into different women would get you someone who loved anyone of THOSE women. Like any of these women held the answer to who you truly are.
LIKE YOUR GRANNY KNOWS WHO THE FUCK YOU ARE.
I totally dig that you and my step-brother gave it a go, but it failed. I like that, because Christian wasn't dating Lucille. He was dating Lucille-who-wants-to-run-away-from-Lucille. A girl within a girl. At least, that's the Lucille I saw, because I met you years ago, before any of these other people existed and I observed you. If that is who you are now, then hey, ok, you succeeded in transforming yourself, good for you, I'm sure you'll make it work. But if there's even a slight hint of who you were inside of all that glitz, that's a girl I seriously dug. If she's gone, then I don't mind having sex with your body and pretending that's the real one I'm fucking.
I set myself up a lot, and that has never changed. For example, in the past, I dated this girl, Katrina (or she who should NEVER be named) and I only did it to piss off my little brother. Nicholas, I don't think you've met him? I didn't like Katrina, not really. She was a virgin and I wanted to pop her cherry. I wanted to see Nicholas cry. I wanted to show him who was boss. End of story. I'm a mean guy.
I haven't stopped being this guy. If anything I've just become better at it.
I knew this was toxic, I knew it. But did that stop me? Noooo. I follow through with whatever sick game I'm playing until the very end. I drop hints only every now and then, far down the line, when I know they'll do the most damage, or when I know they'll at least register shock.
So here's my confession of the day: I didn't fuck Caroline because I liked Caroline. I fucked Caroline because she reminds me of Lucille Delton; just a dumber, more boring and flat-chested version.
This confession may not matter to you at this point, but it matters to me. And hey, this is MY blog after all. See, I'm respectful of people's space.
Toodles,
Disco Stick
