A little bit of soul………

Bit is a pretty neat word. It’s on the front and backa lotta words. In and of itself, it’s a small portion, degree, or amount. I’ll know in a little bit. A small amount of time. It’s an entertainment routine. He did his bit. It’s a thing for a horse’s mouth. That’s a bit about bit. He bit his tongue. She’s a little bit. He’s had a bit too much to drink. A bit too friendly.

Bit begins bitch, and ends a circular path, orbit. If follows death, obit. Bitya in the butt. Inhibited, uninhibited. Bitchin’. That bites. I’m bitter about that. This is getting habitual. Silly rabbit. Snakebit. An exhibition of precision. I should curbit. Finish this 36-bit. Hell it even works a bit with numbers. It’s the thing you stick in the drill. Newspaper, four bits. Where’s that GD toothpick, I’ve got a bit of bacon stuck. A bit of luck in Vegas. I gave her a bit of my mind.

Ok, bitted out.

I think I’m going through a period where I’m a bit of an idiot. A very inhibited person who suddenly ain’t so. I’m demonstrating uninhibitedness, full knowing that I’m too GD white to dance in life.

Saw the sister of an old girlfriend last night. Now I loved her sister - but this gal was/is gorgeous. As in movie star gorgeous. She still could pass for early 30’s. Can u say a bit of a kid crush from long ago?

So we talked and recounted the last 25 or so years. Yes, I learned of what her sister is doing and where she lives. We laughed, we had a few - she mentioned she’d had a bit too many - and we caught up. I got a bit overzealous and I leaned. What an idiot. She was cool about it - and I sunk back into being inhibited.

That’s where I belong I’m finding - with women. I’ve lived (pretty much) a life of niceness - and along the way it’s probably contributed to the demise of a 7 and 20+ year marriage - lost me the highest paying job I’ve ever had (“Victor, we‘re demoting you… your problem is you’re too God Damn nice.” His words, not mine.)

I think now, I’ll be a cruel sumbitch like women seem to migrate too. Start hunting, and learn me how to clean a GD fish. I hereby promise to fart without leaving the room, never put the lid back down - and not call - should I ever again get in a relationship and I’m out late with “the boys.”

I will cheat, hide money, have a hidden email account, ogle at others whilst my arm is around her - and willingly (uninhibitedly) flirt right infronta her. I’m finding women like pigs. Sooooooooie! Maybe I should move to Arkansas.

A bit of an asshole. I can be that, for a bit. Why show care, concern, love when all it does it lead to the exit? For real.

Of course I’m joshing a bit. But (Victor, you can’t start a sentence with ‘but’)… But, it does seem that’s what biotches (don’t put an ‘o’ in my bit) want. Or flock to. Or get laid by. Or live inhibited with/by. Controlled by. A bit of a mystery. Women like assholes. Don’t believe me? Look around a bit. Observe. Wonder. Scratch head. Hwwaack ptoo. Spit a bit.

Victor, you’re bitter. Down a bit? Well, I guess I was a bit of an idiot (again) - so, I decided to go a bit off the path of that and blame it on women. Hehe. Make a bit of sense?

Hey - sorry, I need to blog - so I let my fingers ramble a bit. Vnuory. Huh? Them’s the letters on the keyboard surrounding bit. Oh. Just a little tidbit. Bite me.

May your world be a bit fun. If you’re with an asshole and you enjoy it, it’s your bit - I won’t bitch. Love (Spoil them with kindness Victor - it will get you everywhere.. Ahm.. Yeah) until the day I pee my pants and forget my name… or, am in the obits. Victurd.