hooves all a flutter

well, what can i say? i'm just happy to be indoors. see, as a centaur, my presence tends to attract ner-do-wells who plague me with questions like, "T-shirted centaur, are you really a t-shirted centaur? T-shirted centaur, would you rather fuck a unicorn or that girl from metric? t-shirted centaur, did you take a dump on my front lawn?" uggg! why can't you bipeds just leave me be?
It's not you, i'm sorry, it's just that you don't know what it's like being a t-shirted, mythological creature from attic grece. people always judging you, trying to feed you apples or sugar cubes - i'm a diabetic for christ's sake! I don't even try to buy shoes anymore. "oh, i'm sorry ... sir(?), newbalance doesn't make shoes for centaurs. maybe you could see a blacksmith or something." as if horse shoes and centaur shoes are the same thing (ok, they're exactly the same but it's the principle of the thing).
i don't even want a pair of runners per se, i just want to be granted entry into the mongolian grill restaurant - why do you think i'm wearing a t-shirt? "no shirt, no shoes, no service" might as well read "drity, smelly centaurs can go fuck themselves because they 'aint getting into this mongolian grill" I'm wearing a shirt! I'm wearing shoes! i guess my St.Croix Forge shoes aren't classy enough to watch a couple of pimply teenagers fry up some squid and bean sprouts on a huge hot-plate! the sign doesn't say shit about pants!
sorry, i tend to get carried away. it's hard, you know. it's almost impossible to meet women at bars because i spend more time trying to keep the drunks from riding me than i do running my game. i tried to pick up women at school but the only girls that are interested are the ones with an unhealthy affinity for peter schaffer's equis; i'm not going to debase myself, to allow someone to fetishize me. i'm a centaur, yes, but i'm also an avid stamp collector, r.c. boat enthusiast, and member of my church choir (best soprano we've got!).
well, i guess i'd better sign off. i've got a test tomorrow on nietzsche's beyond good and evil. i know the material but i think the prof's got something against centaurs. id didn't help matters much when he busted his wife checking out my package. look, i'm a centaur, it's gonna hang a little low. what can i do?
till next time
t-shirted centaur