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Suicide Girls

15 Jan
image stolen from nytimes.com

image stolen from nytimes.com

Right before the plane took off she sent me an email. Said she was going to kill herself. Cut-and-pasted the research she was doing on method. Pills, carbon monoxide, helium. I knew all of these. Used to hear about them in texts from Astrid. Before that, other women.

They’re great communicators. They know to show not tell that they’re serious. A mere ”I am going to kill myself” means nothing from a woman. Even Anne Sexton and Sylvia fucking Plath wrote volumes of warnings first. Dragged it out over years. If you hear it from me once, I’m already dead. Went out with a bullet hoping WordPress’ “schedule future post” feature worked. Continue reading →

Protected: Underage Ass

15 Dec

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These Kids Today

10 Dec

cenobite

I met a girl at a party and took her to my car to make out. Choke me, she said. I was parked on a well lit public street. Even better. Get her topless and clamp her neck between my arms; she is excited that a cop might drive by. Nowadays every girl under 25 is a cenobite. They want to be choked, hit, fake raped. They want to lacerate you with sharp nails, scratch at your nipples, bite your bottom lip and draw blood. They all squirt. Ten years ago nobody squirted. It just didn’t exist. Now everybody squirts. Everybody deep throats. Everybody’s into BDSM. She’s a sub telling you on the first date that she needs a forearm in the throat to cum. Or she’s a “pro domme.” No such thing as an amateur domme. Dommes all get paid. Continue reading →

Protected: Girl in the Window

5 Sep

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Protected: Girls with Herpes

29 Aug

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Protected: Diary: Sunday in the Park

11 Aug

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Diary: The Big Date

23 Jun
nervous first date

image stolen from davidwygant.com

This chick, this OKCupid chick, this smarmy feminist comedian chick, is she going to confirm our non-alcoholic day date and why do I give fuck except I’m curious. Why is it always like this. Days before the date I’m secretly hoping they’ll flake, secretly thinking I’ll just go out to some swimming pool and take my shirt off and get younger, better looking pussy. And then once I send a text to confirm I’m biting my nails thinking omigod she’ll never actually go out with me she’s way too cool for me she hangs out with a bunch of professional comedians and famous people and needs a guy with a job the same or better as hers omigod I’ll die alone; the cat will eat my tender eyeballs first. Continue reading →

Protected: Weekend Journal 5-26-13: This Is All Your Fault Megan

26 May

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What People Talk About When They Talk About Women in L.A.

13 May

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.

Coffee Shop Diary: Cock Magellan

12 May

diverse smiling women

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 →