I'm not a pervert after all

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New Year's Eve

She was on a webcam and so was I. We stared at each other, and flirted, even though we were time zones apart.

She was in Germany and I was in Florida; New Year's was only an hour away. I wanted to see what 2010 looked like, so I stayed tuned.

She asked me where to focus the cam once the time arrived, and I said to keep it aimed at her pretty face. She smiled. Really, she asked, where would I like the cam? I told her on her ass, since I hadn't seen it yet. She giggled and pointed the cam at her screen. I saw myself. Gosh, what a mood killer.

I straightened up in my seat; my shoulders became less slumped. I tilted my head as to not show my bald spot.

"Too late," she said. "I already saw your bald spot."

"You mean...?"

"That night when you had to rush to the bathroom. I saw it then."

"I was ducking."

"Not far enough."

She had a folder on her screen, I didn't notice it til then. It was titled "Hermaphrodites."

"What's in the folder," I inquired. I was alarmed.

"Study material," she explained.

"Uh huh."

I saw her mouse appear on the screen. She then double-clicked the folder. Inside the folder was an assortment of pictures of male and female hermaphrodites ... except how could you tell?

"That's enough," I said. Both my hands were covering the screen.

"How sweet," she said.

"What?"

"What you just did. That's just the reaction I was hoping for. A little test. A test to see if we can continue flirting into next year."

Exercise

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I usually have a great time on pot, but this time I wanted a "bad trip" -- if that's possible.

Why? I needed the rapid heartbeat. Why's that? A doctor I'm following on Twitter recommends daily exercise and says that merely walking around is not good enough; your heart needs to move fast on a daily basis to stimulate the rest of your organs.

I took his advice "to heart," but without the exercise. I donned a pair of headphones and began listening to some scary music, hoping for a splash of paranoia, or even a dash of anxiety, which always gets my heart to race. I started with "A Night on Bald Mountain," a scary song in its own right, and since I'm losing my hair, even scarier. It started the process.

Then I moved on to Glenn Beck and Rush Limbaugh and their terror-filled gloomings about the world. It was really moving after that.

Then I back-masked some country music. My heart was really kicking.

Lastly, I took off the headphones and played some Russian Roulette on my computer with a program called "Beyond Repair" -- designed to crash (randomly) your computer--sometimes for good--after you pull a trigger on the program. My first pull caused the screen to go black and the red CPU light to go on (and on). I thought, "Shit, all my emails, and porn -- gone forever!" I broke out in a cold sweat.

Then, miraculously, the computer recovered. I read the program's EULA and it said it may, on occasion, cause a "near miss."

Tomorrow I'm going to smoke a fat bowl and watch a 9/11 conspiracy video and then spend hours typing something heartfelt on a forum and then close my eyes and either hit the "Submit" or "Cancel" button, depending on where my mouse randomly lands. That should make for some good heart spikes.