Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Personalities, maybe I have a few

Deep inside most people is an alternate personality just itching to rear its ugly (or not so ugly) head in a way that would shock the hell out of those who are around us on a day to day basis.

Thoughts like this one described today are what I contemplate while in the shower as I shriek from time to time as Mary will run some warm water from one of the house's faucets.

At home, I can be described as loud and obnoxious. I am not afraid at any locale to voice my displeasure or share what my true thoughts are. At work I think, albeit briefly, before I spout forth one of my many mildly comical remarks in response to one of the office's conversations. My observations and thoughts about an alternate personality, though, I will choose to keep out of my ofice conversations. It is one that I will probably share with friends or family.

I am unsure just what my alternate personality would be. Maybe it would be a mish-mash of numerous personas I repress from daily life. Maybe one would be an overbearing African-American who likes his grits full of hot sauce and his malt liquor full of alcohol. I know that this one may come off as a tad bit of a racial profile but, hell, these are my thoughts. I just chose to express them here for all to criticize.

Maybe another would be my inner female side expressed as a flamboyant homosexual gentleman who expresses himself by dressing in vobrantly loud, colorful and sometimes tacky clothing and uses colorful language which would be unmistakably non-hetero -- complete with the much talked-about hand gestures. Maybe, just like Homer Simpson once stated, I like my homosexuals FLLLLAAAMING.

The third persona could be that of a man who is too much into bondage -- one who enjoys a thorough spanking while being tied up wearing nothing but a ball gag and a sundress. More than likely a large, burly gentleman who lifts weights and trains on a regular basis and rides a Harley everywhere he goes (hence the leather related to bondage). The type of man who cold kick seven different kinds of dog crap out o anyone who looked at him the wrong way. The kind of a man with a secret though. The secret of his love and adoration of bondage.

Now, keep in mind that these are all figments of my imagination. A rather active imagination. The imagination of a man who would rather listen to a mix of punk rock and alternative music before he ever threw on a Barbara Streisand and Ricky Martin duet CD. Think of this what you will but remember, I have been told that I would look hot in a dress.

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