39. Weird age to be a childless man looking for a secretarial job. Alone in a filthy apartment with a cat. Weird age to explain to employers why you’re looking for such a shitty job. Well look, I tell them. I have other shit in my life. My career is not who I am. If you hire me, I will be of service to the best of my ability. My ability is phenomenal. More than yours, I think. I’m smarter than you and better than you. Yet somehow I have no money. On the other hand: we’re all just polyps in a coral. Leaves of grass. Bees in a hive. Whateverthefuck metaphor you want to use. I’m no better than a flagellate in a Petri dish. This makes me happier than anything. I could die this minute. The effect on the universe would be nothing. People would be sad, but they too die. Soon it’ll be like I was never there. That is such a relief. It’s no great waste therefore if I spend the whole day jerking off. By 4pm I’ve switched to horse porn. There are surprisingly few where the horse actually nuts in a girl’s pussy. Horse porn auteurs: too detached from their audience. Do you offer health insurance.
A reader asks:
When are you going to write about the Philippines?
When I can wrap my mind around it.
The day after I got home I was sitting in traffic on the 10 West. Job interview. Temp secretary at an organic dog food company. Possible permanent hire if the woman doesn’t come back from maternity leave. Who knows what a young mother will do, said the office manager. Eight minute interview. I knew I didn’t get it when I walked in. From his eyebrows. Drive time: 2 hours round trip. Where do you make the dog food, I asked. I don’t know, he said. The Midwest somewhere. Continue reading
Summer’s over. Maybe I’ll get fat. Not walking around with my shirt off sunup to sundown every weekend. If you’re not in shape, try being in shape. Pussy just falls on you. I used to think girls liked my personality. Now I’ve come to the horrifying conclusion that I’m physically attractive. This means everything I think and believe is bullshit. My mind is merely tolerated. At least I don’t have a big wang. Continue reading
The phone rings. An automated message in Spanish. The only words I understand are “mensaje importante” and “escuela.” Important message from school. I get these twice a week. I press buttons. Nothing makes it English or puts a person on or gets an answering machine. Call back, get an 18 minute outgoing message about which dates free school lunch applications are accepted in person. Friday… July… 18th.. from…. 12…PM…to… 2… PM. 20 of those and then again in Spanish. The mailbox is full. Continue reading
Many suitors, but I chose “Surprise for Sleeping Sister.” A woman lays on her stomach. You mostly see her ass in multicolored panties. A man strokes his angry red penis for 90 seconds. Squeezes a halfhearted load in her ass crack. She does not wake. You can hear a Family Guy episode in the background. Mr. Spock wins the lottery and tells the rest of the Enterprise to go fuck themselves. McFarlane doesn’t try to sound like Spock. The niggardly load coughed up onto the sister’s plump ass cheeks barely registers. It will be harmlessly absorbed into fabric and unnoticed. There will be no surprise. Continue reading
I went to Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous. Because I was gonna have a mentally ill woman fly over the Pacific to move into my apartment. I’ve never met her. Our interactions are emails and skypes. I want you to fill my hot holes with your cum, she says. I want you to get me pregnant and call me daddy’s little cum slut. I think I’m going to take pills and kill myself. But she is 22 and Chinese and pretty. All that matters.
Also because I fucked that girl Sunday. OKCupid. It was the morning after my AA fifth step. You take your diary of the evils you’ve done out of hatred and lust and fear and read it to someone. I was with my sponsor inside a 3,000 year old hollowed out sequoia tree. The next day I woke up and meditated for an hour, per Bill W. in the Big Book. Crows cawed behind me and I understood their language. Creatures putting their song into the world. I thought on all my evils. What I’ve done and could still do. I understood that God was real and I was forgiven. I understood that I’d forget this truth but it would still be real. I was laughing and crying. I felt like I’d taken 12 hits of acid. One of the most significant experiences of my life. Continue reading
Some kind of mulatto chick sits near me with big Malcolm Gladwell hair. Pretty. She is reading poetry. So I should talk to her. Hi, what are you reading, I would say.
It’s a poem about how I want to suck your dick in front of these pleasant middle class families on their picnics, about your hot salty jizz rolling in thick spurts across my tongue, she would say. But leave something in your sack to squirt deep into my ovulating young cunt when you bend me over against the Virgin Mary Statue. It’s by Emily Dickinson. She’s wearing black yoga pants and laying back knocking her knees together. Rubbing one thigh against the other. As though anticipating my meatpipe. Continue reading