Tag Archives: boobs

Jack

26 Apr

building

(This is a selection from my book Hot Naked Tits, which you can buy here.)

One morning he looked in his neighbor’s window and saw a picture of his own cat.

The guy had his blinds closed like always. But today a computer monitor was pressed up by the window and the slats were pushed aside. There was a narrow triangle of open glass, enough to see in the apartment. It was stacked high with crap. Old books and magazines. Old art on the walls. Prints of Hudson River Valley school paintings cut out of a coffee table book, taped to the drywall. Certificates and degrees, too far away to read, yellowed, askew in cheap frames. And a picture of his cat. It too was framed. A foot high. iPhone picture, pixellated a little. Fluffykins regarded the camera with a dead mockingbird in his mouth. Continue reading →

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What You’re Up Against

25 Feb

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.

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OKCupid: What I’m Doing with My Life Part 2

11 Dec
image stolen from movieposters.com

image stolen from movieposters.com

I was unemployed for a while. Now I’m a gray corporate worm. I have a 401(k). I wear loafers. I use Powerpoint; Excel. Advanced proficiency in Microsoft Office Suite.

I’m in a small branch office of a large corporation. We share a bathroom. This means that the 4 times a day I piss, which should be a respite– 3 of those 4 times a man from another company will piss next to me. Often it’s a particular bear of a man. Six foot eight, fat, bearded, sweat along his widow’s peak from walking to the restroom. There are 2 urinals. I must stand right by him. The heat from his fat arms noticeable. One side of my face hotter. Unbuckle my reversible genuine leather belt, black on one side brown on the other. Unclasp my pressed business slacks which have a metal tab as well as a button. Withdraw my penis. Which had begun to recoil, already, upon seeing this man from 50 feet down the hall as he keyed in the bathroom door code. By the time I get it out it’s a shrunken acorn head. The other man is slow with his pants. He has only now released his member as he’s heard me keying in the code. His penis too has recoiled. Continue reading →

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Protected: Waiting Room Diary: Affordable Care

2 Mar

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Everybody Relax

15 Dec
image stolen from allleftturns.com

image stolen from allleftturns.com

You will be raped. Your children will be sex trafficked. You will be denied Equal Pay by a White Male. Sexually harassed by a White Male. Sent an inappropriate OKCupid message by a White Male. A White Hetcis Male, to be clear. The gays are OK. You will be stranger raped. Flailing with your keys sticking out between your fingers like they taught you in self defense class. It does nothing. They didn’t teach you how to throw a punch to begin with. When I can walk down the street without fear we will be equal, you say as you recoil from a house spider. You will be catcalled. White Males will shout at you on the street. You will be raped. You will be date raped, gray raped, you will be date rape drugged. You or your children will be sweet talked into drinking Everclear and group fingerfucked by the White Male football team. Your rapist will be someone you know and trust. The call is coming from inside the house. He will rape you with his Rape Culture. Your White Male boss will sexually harass you. Strip you of your equal pay. The White Males in congress will throw WOC’s and genderqueers in rape camps. If you don’t know what “WOC” means you are a rapist. You will be oppressed until no film, TV show or magazine adequately reflects your point of view. The writing staff of your favorite series will be understocked with Black and Latina women. The network made a whole diversity program and everything. Then all they did was hire one Korean broad out of Harvard. You will be raped. Yoga pants will not be available in your size forever. You will cry out on the internet. And a man, a man, a White Male will tweet something at you in response. Something mean. A rape threat. A death threat. You will be raped and murdered and raped by raping rapists on Twitter by tweets and comments and trolls. Check your privilege, you cry vainly. You will shout your pain into the wind as you are raped. Continue reading →

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Protected: Girl in the Window

5 Sep

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Protected: Girls with Herpes

29 Aug

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Don’t Kill Yourself

27 Aug

My dad is 65, was diagnosed with bone cancer 15 years ago and given six months to live. Since his childhood he drank like a fish, smoked a pack a day, and used hard drugs. He is still living. Came to visit me. He’s beat up. Can barely walk up the hill to my apartment. His mind is slipping. He speaks slowly. Moves slowly.

But he is still alive. I introduced him to a couple of the women in my life. His mind is slipping, but he still knows nice eyes, nice skin, nice ass, nice tits. I took him to Joshua Tree. He’d never seen it. Hard to show that motherfucker something he’d not seen in this country. He’s been all over. But this was new. He had trouble walking. Had trouble speaking. But every new bird, every new rock, every new flower blew his mind. When night fell, every new star– there is so much to see in this life. So much to know.

Of course, the old man was also deeply interested in the 19 year old Hong Kong chick walking on our hiking trail. Son, you better make a move on that. She’s interested. Tell her to take your picture.

You will lose your mind, your body, your dick– whatever you value. But life still has things to show you. Life isn’t done with you. I get why people kill themselves. I get it, but they’re wrong. Seeing a god damn road runner drinking from a mud puddle changes my life every time. And it changed the life of a 65 year old man who I’d thought had seen everything. You could live for a thousand years and never run out of wonderful shit.

I get why people kill themselves. I contemplate it every day. Still. Don’t. It’s an arrogant thing to do. It’s saying: I know all the secrets. Bullshit. You never know. Tomorrow a seagull could steal a kid’s ice cream cone in front of you and you’ll laugh harder and better than you ever have in your life.

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Consider Using Public Transportation

2 Aug

Driving to work today. Not taking the train. This means my future wife would have been on the train. A beautiful woman, in a good mood, primed for conversation. Ready to make the first move. What are you typing, she would ask. I would have been working on my book. Certainly not some bullshit blog post about some bullshit topic and every other word is “fuck” and “cunt.” No. I am writing a novel, I would have said. She would be impressed. Let’s get off in El Monte, she’d say. Take my hand and we’ll run up into the mountains. Forget about your job. We’ll find some place with flowers and just fuck forever.

Now she’s sitting next to an empty seat, or some hobo. We will both die alone.

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Relax, You Are Doomed

21 Jul
image stolen from findagrave.com

image stolen from findagrave.com

You’re not gonna get throat cancer from eating pussy and you’re not gonna get dick cancer from HPV. You’re not gonna get AIDS or syphilis or herpes. That thing on your dick is an inflamed hair follicle. Trust me; I know. I have made my body an experiment, fucking the entire internet unprotected on a first OKCupid date and then living through the paranoid terrors of a slightly itchy penis the next morning. It’s all bullshit and your doctor knows it as soon as you walk in the door. Heterosexual men are basically immune to STD’s. You couldn’t get one if you tried. Continue reading →

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