A bit over a year since my last update, hahah.
Had the head down. There's reasons. Good ones.
Some of them involve family. Been a few deaths, more cancers, heart attacks, that sorta stuff. Amazingly I still seem to have my health. At my age too. Bit of a miracle.
Probably time for another check-up. Don't fucking tempt fate, eh?
More personally, old BPS has been head-down, arse-up, getting shit right'n'tight'n'untouchable as hell.
A chunk of good-sized land, some fruit trees on it, some wildlife, plenty of birds (including pheasants), plenty of places to fish. Still workin', of course. Enjoying life on my terms, at my pace. Not bothering much with chasing teh wimminz, they're full of greed'n'shit'n'drama.
Not bothering with most people actually. Most of the ones that you can meet are pretty-much useless, shit'n'drama types. The ones a bit like me, well, they tend to stay by themselves. You don't meet us much.
As to why to the getting it all done right - when you get to the point of being worth a couple million, a sensible person doesn't flash it around. 'Cause that attracts every money-hungry slag for a couple hundred kilometers. Claws crooked and grasping, the eternal whine of "pay attention to meeeee!".
Fuck that's shrill.
Since I don't like my ears raped with endless crying and whining and demands, and I especially don't want to be dealing with someone else's womb-turds - or getting trapped by someone who wants a womb-turd with me, so that they can control me (they think) - it's best to stay away from the non-professionals.
Like Steven Seagal said once: "You pay whores to go away." When you're done, of course.
Eventually the urges will all slow down. Hell, I'm pushing 56 - it's amazing that I don't need a bloody pill or something to perform. Of course, having them young'n'hot'n'different every time helps. They're new and you're not attached. Keep it thataways.
If you *must* do something long-term, make sure that she's:
1/ sane (hahahahah!)
2/ has something worthwhile besides tits'n'ass (aka money)
The very few times that I run into the inquisitive aka nosy bitches who want to evaluate if I'm worth being around I just laugh and shake my head at their questions.
For the guys, I just snort and say "I pay someone else's mortgage". Which is true enough, though the "someone else" is a Trust. I leave it at that. Not that I don't trust 'em, I simply know that teh wimminz will somehow worm the information outta the poor bastards. So if they don't know, they can't accidentally pass it on to some cunt on the prowl for her next victim.
I'm pretty-sure that a couple other guys get the idea. Preening your feathers for teh wimminz is a good way to end up as a plucked chicken. Which sure as fuck ain't enjoyable. Especially at my age.
Remember. Go and enjoy life, brothers. Don't be a plucked chicken.
For me, it's time to take a chainsaw and axe and chunk up a few deadfalls. Preparing for a nice fire on a winter evening and a good bottle of Grand Marnier - life doesn't get much better.
Black Poison Soul
