First Little Idiom

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John Cafferty Hearts on Fire

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My dearest Grueheads, as you know ideas come to Keeper in a manner most illogical. It’s not that I have no place for either rhyme or reason; more that I prefer to think out of the box than follow a set template or speak about what the currently trending term of discussion. I much prefer having the freedom to operate without restraint and inspiration often comes from the most unexpected of locales. This morning, for example, I awoke in the usual haze and felt compelled to wax lyrical about idioms for some strange reason, don’t ask why as you won’t get a measured answer. It is simply that these little nuggets of randomness have always fascinated me.

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The idiom is usually metaphorical, a cluster of words with a figurative meaning, and there are some real “doozies” to explore. Thus I have opted to look at two handfuls of commonly used idioms, explore their meanings, and relate them to my own experiences as Keeper. So without further ado, “lend me your ear” and I shall “cut to the chase” and explain the “method to my madness”. Did you see what I did there?

“Wear your Heart on Your Sleeve”

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Openly and freely expressing one’s emotions. This seems a perfect place to “get down to brass tacks”, you will probably be aware at this juncture that I have my bloody heart stitched onto my cuff at all times. That has not always been the case, I’ve hidden it away like a possessive squirrel in fear that my views will not be relevant or, more often than not, to live a relatively pain-free existence.

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Folk go along with so much just to keep up with the Joneses, conform to the norm, or quite simply through a lack of personal belief in their own ability or opinion. I no longer pander to such poppycock; it took me nearly thirty-nine years of my existence to unravel the conundrum of life and now that I have done so, it is my duty to share my experiences with the most devoted posse of hell-raisers ever devised.

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Once you reach the point of honesty, and a breakdown enforces this quite forcefully should you not know how to achieve such, you discover the secret to a content existence. I’ve been dishonest in my life many times, mostly to myself, and eventually you start forgetting what is actually true and what is purely fabrication. We all know the process, a solitary harmless white lie seems innocuous enough, until which time as you are forced to elaborate further. Suddenly you begin to form a web of magnolia mistruths and, before you can say “mumbo jumbo” you’re an international jewel thief and once got a hand job from Taylor Swift before she got famous.

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No more. I choose to heed as many of life’s lessons as possible and cherry pick at every available juncture. We all share the capability to attain and regain information, it’s just something many choose to ignore. Should be come “set in your ways” then you rebuff your exclusive opportunity to soak up any learning. My heart is stitched onto my sleeve for one reason: I have no intention of hoodwinking anyone into anything which they wouldn’t already do of their own free will. I put it out there and, while that includes only information I wish to I volunteer, ask me a question and I’ll answer it truthfully and concisely every time.

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No pondering while I frantically pluck an answer from the grasps of my overtime-working receptors. I will hold eye contact comfortably, supply my retort, and then stand before you emotionally unguarded while you drink in my response. Honesty is such a refreshing endeavor and largely cuts out procrastination and unnecessary “beating around the bush”. I shall divulge further by asking myself a handful of posers which would likely make most wriggle in consternation.

Am I comfortable in my skin?

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Wholly, I kiss and hug my male friends out of unconditional love. I tell them I love them openly and don’t see any injustice in doing so. Bromance makes sense, Pineapple Express isn’t a metaphor for homosexuality (that’d be Top Gun) and, instead, it shows we can connect regardless of gender. Fuck it, I have always known my sexual orientation, what have I got to prove to anyone else anyhoots? We’re not at school anymore.

Have I ever attempted to milk my own Prostate?

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Yes, next question.

What do I find alluring?

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Intelligence, like-mindedness, wisdom, and never arrogance. Laughing like a twerp is good for one’s soul and I consider laughter to be a potent aphrodisiac. Physical attraction? Of course, I’m not about to suggest otherwise. I adored Zelda Rubenstein but never desired jumping her bones. There has to be at least a base level of attraction for a visual creature such as I but it’s far more than just that. The most aesthetically pleasing female imaginable transforms instantaneously into a weathered trout should her life-force be putrid.

What are my opinions on breast enhancement?

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If it floats your boat then fine. However, I can’t fathom the attraction of a pair of breasts which resemble a pair of alloy helmets. Large? Small? Blah! Blah! Real? Now you’re talking. Simple! It’s hardly wearing your heart on your sleeve if your face is so full of Botox that it appears in a constant state of serenity. Sure, if you play poker you may gain a few chips here and there but should you win a hand you won’t be able to express your merriment. Each to their own however.

Glass half empty or half full?

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Full. Positively over spilling. Why the fuck would I want half a glass of anything? You don’t knock back half a shot of tequila, have half a wank (unless tantric of course), get 50% out of bed each morning. It’s gotta be full, passion dies if not allowed to run free with the fairies. If someone were to ask me what I thought of Christopher Nolan’s Inception, then they will never be greeted with indifference. I sit on no fence and love Inception dearly as it changed the way I viewed movies at the cinema. DiCaprio was deliciously dark and brooding, the dream concept was gloriously multifaceted, and the special effects made my dick rigid! That’s more like the response I would offer.

Do you believe in the term soul mate?

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Absolutely. Indeed, on a couple of occasions, it has appeared as though I may have bagged myself a keeper. Granted, it hasn’t worked out quite to plan, but that wouldn’t ever stop me taking the leap of faith again should the opportunity present itself. It’s not even that I believe there is only a single person out there who fits you perfectly and my belief is far less romanticized than that, although I do see the attraction. Ultimately, there are those we will click with and those who we won’t. It’s all about selection. I do, however, believe that higher forces often bring people together. How else, out of in excess of seven billion people, would we find that “needle in a haystack”?

Have you ever masturbated on public transport?

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Indeed I have. Once on the upper tier of a double-decker bus and again on an underground train, although I picked the quietest carriage as it is understanding that the general consensus is to frown on such public displays of self-centered affection. There’s an exhibitionist inside me for sure and, more than anything, I just love the sense of danger which comes from chancing your arm when danger is only a heartbeat away. As an adolescent, I was provided with a massive rush of adrenaline the moment I heard my mother’s foot on the bottom stair as the timer then came into play. Should I have misjudged my stroke, then there would have been open mouths and soiled linen. Actually, that sounds dubious. I mean the pile of ironed clothes she was carrying of course.

What would I do if I possessed the power of invisibility for twenty-four hours?

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This one’s a no-brainer. Really, am I expected to give an answer to such an obvious poser? The more I think about it, the less time I would actually spend in the ladies communal shower at the local health spa. Let’s not get it twisted, I’d be gurning like an infant for every single drop of the soap bar, but there would be bigger fish to fry in such circumstances. The tabloid media are a regular bone of contention with me so I would likely pay one of the national newspapers a visit and haunt the editor until such time as he ejected himself from the twelfth floor like Hans Gruber. Any additional hours would likely consist of emptying church collection trays into my pocket and punching pensioners in the kidneys. Just kidding, I’d be back down the gymnasium with my junk in my hands before you could say “mum’s the word”.

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These few answers attest to the dripping aortic cylinder sitting proudly on my forearm. Honesty really is the best policy as life is not waiting for us so why the devil should we wait for it? Grab it, embrace it, lick it, drink it, fuck it if it gets you off. Just don’t expect it to carry you, it will and all that means is that you follow a course not of your own free will. It’ll bundle you in a wheelbarrow or wayward shopping trolley and pick up pace, before releasing you in the direction of the nearest cliff side, if you don’t grab the reins.

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Positivity, true enlightenment, comes from being who you truly are. It’s never too late to become what you should have been, if you know you should have been a drummer then why ain’t you drumming right now? Got no kit, use dustbin lids or satellite dishes, whatever is in your vicinity. Be honest, accept who you are. Should you have a hairy face mole then dye it deep red, tie a bow round it, and name it Morris or Wanda. Whatever the fuck you want to do with it. It is yours, it gives you character, when has that ever been something to conceal?

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Truly, Really, Clearly, Sincerely,

Keeper of the Crimson Quill

Copyright: Crimson Quill: Savage Vault Enterprises 2013 (Revised 2015)

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1 Comment

  1. Is there such a thing as a “happy” existence? *sigh* Seems like I’m never satisfied. “Full, over spilling, why the fuck would I want half a glass of anything? You don’t knock back half a shot of tequila, have half a wank (unless tantric of course), get 50% out of bed each morning. It’s gotta be full, passion dies if not allowed to run free with the fairies.” Loved this!

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