image stolen from wikipedia
An unattractive woman I don’t like doesn’t want to see me again. I’m pissed. Because she has a perfect pussy.
All I need is one asset. Good face, nice body, nice pussy, nice intellect. Sense of humor, sense of adventure, an interest in Lake Tanganyika cichlids– PICK ONE. Well forget what you can take, my sponsor tells me. Focus on what you give. I got: OK face nice body nice intellect. Sense of humor sense of adventure interest in Lake Tanganyika cichlids. Well read. Minor internet fame, albeit among woman haters. I can play guitar. I can draw. My pecs have a zipper down the middle. My inguinal crease is so cut that when I take a shit a vein pops above my pubis. I can cook. I have a nice place next to a park. Down the street is another park with waterfowl and I can identify them. I know something of their lifestyles. Perhaps this will be of interest. My hair has perfect gray. I’m not short. Not bald. I don’t have big cock but it’s not… the situation isn’t quite clinical. I’m a good guy. Good to be around. People who know me love me. Still. This fat cunt with the one long nipple hair can’t sent me a god damn text back. And I’m too old to shoot up a school so I just have to take it.
I’m sorry but I have to leave early, she tells me. Client in Ventura.
The old man sends a car. When she gets there he prepares a bath with candles. She bathes alone. He busies himself. Sneaks peeks but mostly leaves her be. When she gets out he’ll massage her for a long time. Fleetwood Mac on his fancy stereo. Take her to dinner. Nicest place in town. A glass of wine at home and the car takes her back to L.A. Thousand dollars in her account.
They don’t fuck. Don’t even kiss. He’s just lonely.
She met him on OKCupid, too.
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
If you told me you want me as your boyfriend, I’d be happy. If I could tell you I want you as my girlfriend, I’d do it. But that would make you leave. Find other men. My holding back is the only way you want me. I have to have other girls to keep you.
Pussy is a corporation. I’m an employee. A corporation gives as little as it can until it’s forced to give more to keep you. How well you do your job doesn’t matter. It’s barely considered. What matters is how much others want to poach you. Whether you get kept and what you get paid depends only on leverage.
image stolen from askmenanswers.com
They were at El Prado. He had mineral water. She had dry Riesling. So I have to ask you something, she said.
He knew what was coming but pretended not to. Go ahead.
Are you really as much of an asshole as you say on your blog?
It’s factually true. Things I say happened, happened. But I leave out the parts where I’m a functioning human being most days. It’s boring to say I woke up and took a healthy shit and earned money and paid taxes. Emotional reactions are heightened. Particularly with regard to sex. For instance, I don’t literally want my mouth and nose to be skin grafted onto a 40 year old alcoholic Cambodian woman’s asshole. Continue reading
image stolen from nationalgallery.org.uk
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