Astrid was trying to set me up with some girl she works with. Some cunt. I mean, maybe she’s not a cunt but she didn’t want to be set up with me, so, she’s a cunt. She’d been telling Astrid she likes “built” guys, and Astrid showed her a picture of me with my shirt off. And she said:
“Yeah, but he looks like he works out on purpose. I want a guy who’s just burly like he’s been chopping wood.”
Let me tell you something. Nobody looks what is now called “good” through normal activities. You have to work at it, for the sole purpose of vanity, like it’s a second fucking job. I was listening to an Opie and Anthony bit with Louis CK, which I now can’t find. They were talking about how every hot male movie star from the past would get laughed the fuck off the screen today if they took their shirt off. Charlton Heston. Steve McQueen. These men who had the “hot” body of their time would be flabby schlumps today. The standards of the male body have gone fucking nuts. Continue reading
I have private health insurance now. I have to go get a physical. Because my mom told me to, and plus I have a lump on my neck. I’m sure it’s just a swollen lymph node except I’m also sure it’s an octopus shaped tumor that’s already wrapped around my brain stem and I have seventeen minutes to live. Fine.
Getting the insurance was a god damn nightmare. The only time I’ve been to a doctor in the last five years was to get a cyst lanced on my calf. Blue Shield interrogated me like I was fucking Dzhokhar Tsarnaev about this. Was it a Plaximonious cyst? A Diophibenious cyst? Was any other treatment recommended? I don’t fucking remember dude, they stuck a needle in it and some pus came out. Who was the diagnosing physician? I don’t remember. It was an old black guy, looked kind of like Benson. I never went back to him for a follow up because he put the ball of my foot on his penis and he had an erection. While he was doing this he instructed the nurse to give me my next appointment for free. Continue reading
They mean those down the middle girls, those black Lulu Lemon pants girls, bone structure like one of those computer averages of a hundred college girl faces, white ipod earphones, white iphone, small dog but not quite at the level of small dog carried in a bag, talking about yoga, talking about if I get this pilot, if I get that pilot; they never get the pilot. They did a 3 episode arc playing the older sister on a Nick for Teens show maybe; they showed every member of the nationwide staff of Ponderosa Steakhouse how to sanitize the ranch dressing bin at the salad bar in an “industrial;” they may believe in astrology, they may actually be religious, they were the prettiest girl in Council Bluffs Iowa. Or they are the daughter of a model who famously advertised orange flavor Tic Tacs in the 80′s and the leathery head of television talent at William Morris whose face is like a Nazi propaganda poster but somehow she won the coin toss and is beautiful; her sister was not so lucky. The down the middle girl you think you can meet in yoga class but you can’t, you think you can meet in acting class but you can’t, you think you can meet her at a bar in the club at the dog park but it so thoroughly pointless to pursue her that you should think of her as bait for an ambush. She has a boyfriend, and she never does not have a boyfriend, and up to a certain age it’s gonna be the bartender at La Poubelle and after that it’s gonna be the aspiring head of television talent at William Morris who gets her a 7 out of 10 on The CW, or another actor, or some comedian who will break out at about the same level as maybe Adam Scott in 2 or 3 years; for now she has seen his Funny or Die video with the hundred thousand views or his quirky auto insurance commercial and that’s enough. If you’re the guy who can get these girls you know it already. If you don’t, you have no shot and never will. Tend bar or get famous.
Edit: I should acknowledge this video‘s existence because they also mention Lulu Lemon pants. I found it stupid but your mileage may vary.
Look at that. Fat floppy Mexican teenage ass in yoga pants. Some men would be appalled by this, but I want to know what that ass looks like naked.
My buddy who travels around the world fucking whores says at some point you get sick of fucking. You’re not horny and you don’t want to cum but you keep buying three dollar malnourished Cambodians anyway because you just want to see what your dick looks like going in a new one. You’re just curious.
That’s the deeper difference between women and men, I think. Not how horny one or the other is but that chimplike curiosity, or the lack of it. Women never see your ass and think what kind of panties is he wearing. They never summon Jedi concentration to envisage a black strip of thong fabric rubbing against a little puckered pink butthole. Does she have a hairy pussy, a waxed pussy, a shaved pussy, an innie, an outie; is it pink, is it dark– hard to guess; she has dark hair green eyes. Continue reading
Image stolen from CBS News, where I assume it was also used in a story on squirting.
Some time in the last five years every woman started bragging that she could squirt. If you hit my G spot with your fingers while I’m in a seated position and Venus is in the Third House of Capricorn… I will squirt all over the place. Look what a libertine I am, she says. And I know when I hear it exactly what to avoid. I hate doing laundry.
It’s bragging on their part, but also an invitation to do something you can brag about. Dude, she squirted all over the place, you will say, heralding your status as a sex god.
I used to care about being “good in bed.” About whether a woman was satisfied. About engaging in hours of elaborate foreplay and mood lighting and appropriate drugs and music. Back in college. Girls talk to each other about that stuff, men would say. They’re gonna hear that you’re a sex god and come get some of that too. Continue reading
There is no purpose to my life. No purpose to getting out of bed. Still. What was my purpose before? Pleasing assholes who can’t be pleased, who were mercurial and cruel, for barely enough money to live off of, and nothing to look forward to but a lifetime of climbing up from the bottom of the assholes to the middle of the assholes. Chasing the privilege of being scared of the assholes above you and contemptuous of the assholes beneath you. Seeing people under you as simpering, grating disposable strivers, dogs rolling over when hit with a stick. Fuck that. You think things suck now, remember how much they sucked before. You think going to work would stop you from being nuts but work drives you nuts, too. Just in a different way. This way I can go nuts on my own terms.
There is danger in solitude but there’s worse danger in the company of idiots. I’ve seen the movie industry, the TV industry, the book industry, what these things are really like. There is no place for me in this world. I’ve done some traveling, some writing, I’ve met some girls, made some friends. Seen the stars in the desert, whales breaching in the ocean. Attack ships on fire off the rings of whateverthefuck. But mostly it’s been drinking and jerking off in my sweaty apartment. Fine. It’s what I was born to do.
All right. In the coffee shop now. I seem to be past the sketchy too much speed phase. I’m not proud of what I masturbated to, or the means I used to do it. But let’s never speak of it again.
The problem is I’ve done so much coke in my life that anything even remotely resembling that feeling fires up a whole set of reflexes– grind your jaw, snort back mucous, look sketchy, jerk off with Rube Golberg contraptions… I can’t just take legal speed for children like a normal person, I gotta take more and more and hole myself up in my filthy apartment opening 99 tabs of fetish porn. Let this be a lesson. From now on, clean living. Whole grains and natural fruit juice. Maybe a Zima on Fridays.
It’s not that bad. I’m sure I seem normal enough to the world. Except for the part where I became transfixed by a full page full color newspaper ad for NUDE GIRLS that had blown open on the sidewalk, a spread of an alluringly thick young blonde woman’s naked back. The top of her meaty ass. I was staring at this as a family with several children walked by. I thought about pocketing it. Continue reading