Saturday, July 8, 2017

The Rebel Black Dot Girlfriend Song o' the Day

Big D and the Kids Table, "My Girlfriend's on Drugs" from How It Goes (The Last Angry Man)

Skammentary: Again, these girlfriend-themed & -titled R.B.D.S.O.T.D. are not about my new girlfriend, Miss Mozart, whose boyfriend I am somewhat reluctantly.

On that reluctance, I ran into Mrs. Nacho at the grocer's yesterday. She denied that she & Brother Nacho had ever encouraged me to date Miss Mozart, claiming that they'd only said I should take her out on a date & explain to her that, due to my ongoing discernment of a vocation to the priesthood, I wasn't presently looking for nor interested in having a girlfriend. Shenanigans! That is not even remotely what they said. I am not a theatrical mentalist, coached & skilled in guessing & deducing information based on subtle, often non-verbal cues. I could only judge their advice by what they said, not construct an elaborate alternate narrative based on extrasensory knowledge of what they'd meant to say, however contrary that was to what they'd actually said. They advised me to date her, due to the perceived uncertainty of my vocation, not to go on a date to explain to her face-to-face what I'd already explained in vain repeatedly over the telephone. Alas, we discussed the matter face-to-face, so there exists neither recording nor verifiable transcript; I cannot prove shenaniganry, but I stand by the accusation. Shenanigans, I say!

Brother & Mrs. Nacho continue to be my dear fiends & boon companions, & I remain excited to work with them on an evangelizing social-media project we're not quite ready to launch officially, but I can no longer consider them counselors in matters romantic or platonic. This is not because they advised me to date Miss Mozart against my better judgment. (Truly, I want counselors who have the courage of their convictions, not "yes men.") But of what use are counselors who later deny their own counsel? I have troubles enough without piling on friends like Job's—the aloof, unsympathetic sort who are more interested in playing "gotcha" than I rendering sincere aid. This romance is already a kerfuffle bound to end in tears, adding a layer of chicanery won't help anything.

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