I'll Take The Shooting. I'm Used To

You Can't Let Facts Get In The Way Of The Truth.

I Remember An Era When You Could Get Your Nose Sliced Off For Sticking It Too Far Into Another Man's Business. Now You Can Find Out Anything About Anyone With The Click Of A Button. There Is No Privacy And No Consideration, And Everyone Is Prying Into Things That Aren't Their Affair. You Can Probably Check On The Intertube And Find Out What Color Underwear I Have On Today.

That Was One Thing You Found Out When You Were Stoned, Or Wasted, Or Feverish: That The World Was Always Turning And That Only A Healthy Mind Could Block Out The Sickening Whirl Of It.

Men, She Thought, Were One Of The World's Few Sure Comforts, Like A Fire On A Cold October Night, Like Cocoa, Like Broken-in-slippers. Their Clumsy Affections, Their Bristly Faces, And Their Willingness To Do What Needed To Be Done - Cook An Omelette, Change Lightbulbs, Make With Hugging - Sometimes Almost Made Being A Woman Fun.

Fantasy Was Always Only A Reality Waiting To Be Switched On.