Not gonna lie: these are dark times. The thing that bugs me the most is that I’m never going to find a nice girl. It’s partly because, well– there are a shitload of reasons, but the only one coming from me is that I’m now a machine geared toward getting unprotected sex as fast as possible.
And this definitely does fuck with you. “One becomes as incapable of love as an old slag,” as a brilliant man once said. I’ve become a dating hack. I wear the same outfit every time, go to the same place, arrange the chairs the same way, go for the makeout at the same moment, etc. etc. etc. It’s all so rote that there is no way I could possibly have any exciting discovery about the other person. There is no way you could get in through some little crack in my persona and make me feel anything.
I was contemplating this as I watched clips of Kenny Rogers’ 1982 cinematic masterpiece SIX PACK. In it, Kenny plays a jaded racecar driver who, through a series of contrivances, is forced to take on a group of half a dozen (or “pack” of “six”) orphans whom he catches trying to steal his spare parts. At first incensed and reluctant, he slowly grows to love these lucky children and becomes a father figure to them. Many think that Kenny was overlooked for the Oscar that year, but few know that at a secret meeting the academy decided that lumping Kenny in with inferiors such as Olivier and Brando would only sully his name. And giving Kenny the award would render all future Oscars meaningless– you would simply have to award Kenny the prize again and again each year, for SIX PACK. The film also suffered controversy after sixteen year old costar Diane Lane gave birth to an infant with a perfectly groomed white beard.
A young Lane can’t contain her lustful gaze as Rogers’ musk awakens her steaming pubescent loins. Continue reading
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