If wishes were like horses

We were chatting over breakfast about yesterday's blog post. It was one of those funny conversations that we have sometime... the kind that make you wish you had a piece of paper... or the notebook that is usually in the bag just in case. Sighs why is it that clean outs always coincide with needing that very item that doesn't make the cut? Anyway the conversation had turned from the merit of dressing like a teenage prostitute sexily...

That conversation had deviated over territory that had included, but was not limited to, the fact that the most popular hookers are usually young. His logic was that men like young women because they dress sexily while one argued it wasn't that at all... men just like young flesh.

... to the rather revolutionary idea that how He preferred one to dress was how he saw one small slave... and how he saw one was all that mattered.

Sort of like the idea that if we were created in Gods likeness and image we can never be less than perfect one quipped...

See one did stay awake for some of the religious indoctrination lessons that mother shoved one into. That was the only bit of Christian Science that really stuck... mainly because it was at complete odds with aunties rather staunch C of E views... er... the ones that heavily imply that man is going to struggle to make the grade, probably fail and then be redeemed through some complicated process involving death and the church. The idea of missing out all the dull stuff had infinite appeal to a child. All one had to do was accept the idea of perfection and well... medical science was no longer a necessity. But one does digress... as always.

All one has to do is accept your view and... There was some uncomfortable wriggling on the seat... 'cos there was no way one was going to take that path to its logical conclusion

Yes, that would make you a good slave, He said with a small triumphant smile

Yeah not much chance of that is there... See you have to keep lowering their expectations

Oh it's like the behaviourist theory He said airily ... you act like you aren't depressed until you aren't

Sort of fake it until you make it?

Yes He agreed, you act like a good slave until you are one

Yeah, but one does wish that being a good slave didn't involve dressing like a teenage prostitute sexily

If wishes were horses He quipped

Well one does want a pony (which for clarity stems from an RPG game... one didn't get the pony 'cos the others would most likely serve it for dinner -.-)

You can have the bridle

Wanna pony

You can have a saddle

Still wanna pony

You can have the crop

Peering at Him with growing mistrust one pointed out that none of this actually involved getting a pony... more being the pony

Well we do have the equine speculum He added, almost as an afterthought

Wanna shut up now

Bastard!