Sunday, June 22, 2014

                                                       “SIN and GO!”

     Guilt is a wasted emotion. It serves no purpose and gets me nowhere. It’s a poison that flows through my arteries and makes me twerk. Then why does it seem to appear seconds after I wake up in the morning. “Why did I buy that bikini?” “Why didn’t I spend the extra buck and get the wine without the floating cork?” 

     “You’re spinning your wheels,” my beloved father used to say. That means every time I’m having fun doing something I’m not supposed to, I’m plagued with guilt. This is really starting to pissmeoff, and I don’t even speak Russian. 

    There needs to be an anti-guilt spray. Just spray this puppy on the necessary body parts, and voilà--pas de guilt! 

     Now some would suggest that it’s all in the way we frame things. I ordered the $195 shoes, knowing full well that I can’t wear them to the soup kitchen. I splurged on the New York Times subscription, fully aware that some people can’t read. I chose the “Premium” package of weiner buns, realizing that there would be one extra for me which I hid in my sock drawer. Guilty as charged. (Actually, I paid cash, so that should count for something.)

     Maybe someone should invent guiltpoo--I know that’s a sham. When you wash your hair, the guilt would run down from your freshly scrubbed follicles and wash those feeings right down the sewer. 

     I’m desperate to sin without follow-through. Just sin and go--that’s my motto. When I hit the road in my vintage Morgan, I’ll just have to put a different spin on the old wheels:)