confessions, or: self-deprecation feels good

1·  I have always harbored a guilty, subtle affection for George W. Bush.  Not in that I liked him, or agreed with him on anything, or thought he wasn't fucking up social progress in significant ways, but there existed in his demeanor a childlike bewilderment with the world that I found endearing.  You could look at him and see a man who was totally not in control of things, and wasn't sure why, like a pig who's been strapped into a backhoe and told to operate it.  This feeling may have been pity, which I have frequently confused for affection in the past.  

2·  My first burgeoning sexual fantasies involved characters from Dragonball Z.  I invite you to guess which one in particular.  (this is a test of our friendship)

3·  Whenever I do or think about having done something stupid or embarrassing, I've always gotten a mental flash of am image of some sort of pain being inflicted upon me that helps make the bad feeling go away.  When I was in high school it was projectile vomiting on whatever was making me feel bad.  For the past year or so, though, it's been sliding an 8-gauge metal skewer through my cheeks, like, in one side and out the other, through my mouth from dimple to dimple.  Like those sideshow guys did on television specials in the '90s.  It would probably not actually be fun but in my mind the pain oh god so good and then my tongue's pinned down so I can't say anything retarded and the metal going clickclickclick on my teeth and the warm salty iron blood taste drooling out, and also it would look hell of scary.