From: [email protected]
Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage
Subject: Wizvax Whimps
Message-ID: <[email protected]>
Date: 31 Oct 91 02:38:04 GMT
Sender: [email protected]
Reply-To: [email protected]
Followup-To: alt.sex.bondage
Organization: Anonymous Contact Service @ wizvax
Lines: 106
X-ACS2-Version: 2.0
From Nurse Jones,
With one exception, you are ALL wonderful people.
I logged on this morning after work and saw that someone had
complained about us wiz-wimps, and _I myself_ accounted for over
HALF of the postings this Richid person was complaining about. I
was horrified when I saw MY Subject: headings up there on this
list of offending posts with the prefix that "something fishy was
going on here." For some stupid reason, my first reaction was:
I've done something terribly wrong that I didn't know about and
I'm sorry and please don't tell my supervisor I post here because
she'll fire me on the spot.
And while I was standing there gaping, I was nearly trampled
to death by net-knights in shining e-armor, flags flying, that
rode up and pulverized this Richid person for me and then rode
off into the sunset. The poor gnome disappeared in a welter of
dust and clanking armor, swords and hooves. Body parts were
airborne. I think Elf was the last one to depart. He was waving a
flag as he left, but it might have been a bloody femur with a
hank of hair tied to it. So I get up, dust myself off, and walk
over to inspect the site, and all that's left is bone splinters
and DNA. Whew.
So now that I feel safe again, _this_ whimp will jump up and
down on the damp spot and kick the dust over it, even though I'm
last in line and not very courageous. Or even dangerous.
Do you think he noticed that one of those posts was about
tolerance? Look, I AM a wimp. In my case, anonymous posting DOES
equal powerlessness. I would be fired INSTANTLY. My supervisor
is a huge, stupid, insensitive, fundamentalist, hyperbaptist,
bigoted, narrowminded cow who goes to an all-white church in an
all-white neighborhood twice a week and even the doctors are
afraid of her. She makes her tiny little husband go everywhere
with her, too, like a cat that continues to play with a mouse
long after she has killed it. Her tiny little red eyes are
already looking suspiciously in my direction because I have a
total of 5 piercings in my ears. She mentioned them and then
warned me in the sweetest terms possible that all her nurses are
on probation at the beginning until she's sure they meet her
standards for appearance and neatness, Hon. Thank God (not HER
god) that I let my nostril piercing close over.
For some reason, this Richid person reminds me of her. I'm
afraid of him, too.
For one thing, I bet he doesn't know what it feels like to be
powerless and a woman to boot, but still he talks. What it's
like to lose your virginity in a doublewide trailer in Indiana,
screwing until your groin muscles are pulled and your bum is raw
and your thighs ache like hell and you're all wet and gooey and
bloody and he smells like beer and you're lying there wondering
is this what all the fuss is about and it's not like in the
movies at all and meanwhile he's asking "Did you come?"
It's just that you're on a different wavelength, Richid.
I'm not sure we can communicate.
I don't want to criticize because I don't know you, but a
macho attitude isn't enough; before you can demonstrate courage,
you have to be in danger. If you "came out" KNOWING FOR A FACT
that you would be fired instantly, then you could speak. Since
you appear to have a job, it seems you've only got half of what
it takes to come up to your own standards. Am I wrong? So if you
haven't actually been fired for it, Little Richid, here's a word
from Kipling:
"Until thy feet have trod the road,
Advise not wayside folk."
Do you like Kipling, Richid? Don't tell me you've never Kippled.
It's like squicking, but you need a midget and two fresh codfish
instead of the Weed-Eater (tm). I also suggest a plastic drop
cloth if Elf is topping for you. And you'll need a designated
driver to get you home after.
I'm not exactly consumed with curiosity, but what's _your_ final
solution this problem you seem to have? Keeping in mind that the
cause of most problems is solutions....
Still, he has a point, but so does Ziggy. Okay, so Jones isn't my
real name. I'm breaking it in for a friend. (Snort.) Seriously,
folks, he got me thinking. "Nurse Jones" is a rather impersonal
sounding handle (I still get a thrill when I get to talk like
that, BTW. I should get a big truck and a CB radio. And a hat,
I'd need a hat). For those of you that read The List, the "M" is
for Margaret. I think it's safe to tell you that much. But I'm
absolutely not coming out any more than that, and besides, I
prefer my handle. Ooooh. IMHO someone needs to post a dictionary
of acronyms. Or acrostics. Whatever those things are. IMHO and
BTW are the only one I know.
A kiss to all knights in shining armour.
Nurse Jones, with lipstick on her monitor,
whose period has finally come, and in-laws finally left. Trust
me, there is no such thing as fun for the whole family.
--
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