Critics

The first critic to touch me was a commenter on another site who came here to read and said that I "have an air of sad desperation" to me. Ouch. Double Ouch. Don't we all though, really, us bloggers? Exposing our private side, our deepest thoughts, anonymously. Having a secret life, that's the real us, that we can't share with everyone.

I know this compartmentalized life I've created is, in my case anyway, dysfunctional. A married man occasionally going out the Strip Club alone. Totally dysfunctional. I know that. But it's real. It's me. I also know that the world of most of the strippers I meet is disfunctional too, and that I contribute to it. I know that. It's just the deal that we share. The transaction. Given that, though, it's a positive experience for me. I respect these young women and they know that.

Sorry about the pshycoanalysis. I guess that's an unavoidable part of naughty-blogging. It's probably healthy.

I was originally intending to post some humor. It's just not in me now. Tomorrow maybe.