Or tape them, rather. This was in the 80’s, before the internet, obviously. But after video cameras had become somewhat widespread; it wasn’t quite a situation where Bob Crane and Willem Dafoe had to pay 75 grand for some cutting edge rig they only had access to because of their television backgrounds. Chuck would get one of those unwieldy Beta cams, stick it behind a hole in his bathroom wall, and then tape chicks peeing and taking shits at his home and/or catfish restaurant. Not clear if he had it set to some kind of trigger so it would only film when someone was in the can or if he just had them constantly running like those night cameras they put by cisterns where snow leopards drink. And if it’s the latter whether he had a guy just constantly fast forwarding through hours and hours of tape to cut together a “best of” reel of chicks pissing to present to chuck. Which, I want that job.
I’d like to see an entry on professional dominatrices.
I mean, look– doesn’t that whole thing feel a bit fucking quaint? What you picture, when you picture a professional dominatrix, is a tall chick with Elvira hair with a skin tight black latex outfit on and you know, high boots with big impractical heels and a cat-o-nine tails, and some middle aged businessman on all fours saying “yes, mistress.” Both parties showing a Midwestern dinner theatre level of acting skill. The whole thing feels so milquetoast now that I bet ACCORDING TO JIM had an episode where Jim’s wife walked in on Jim being spanked by a professional dominatrix, in some zany misunderstanding.
Plus, all of “BDSM” feels like the Nerf version of rough sex. If hot, rough, dangerous, borderline nonconsensual sex is slaying a dragon, stuff like professional dominatrices and the “BDSM Community™” at large are LARPing. Just like the “Swinger Community™” is the Nerf version of cheating and the “Poly Community™” is the Nerf version of David Koresh putting down his Fleetwood Mac Custom Ovation for a few minutes to tear up his third hot teenage virgin of the day. Organized “communities” with tons of rules, and jargon, and extreme touchiness about being judged and nit-picking concern for participants’ safety and well being are about as sexy as the Rotary Club. You are going to end up in a smelly room full of fat old people who describe themselves as “sex positive,” which is as sexy as hearing that someone is “HIV positive.” This kind of thing is what happens when sex is controlled by damaged women. Continue reading
You know how it is. Lotta fatties on OKC. Your first harbinger of this— I mean, besides everybody knowing that the internet is full of fat chicks, this fact having suffused our popular culture, etc.—your first harbinger of this is the weight class list it makes you pick from, which has like two words for skinny and fifteen different kinds of fat.
Because of course we all know “average” means fat. These eighteen to thirty-five year old L.A. girls are generously assorting themselves according to the national average across all age groups. Not the average for eighteen to thirty-five year olds in Los Angeles, California, as a reasonable layman would expect “average” to mean when looking for that age group in this city. These girls are following the letter of the law and not the spirit, like Hasids who string yarn along the telephone wires on their block so they’re technically in an enclosed space and can walk around on the Sabbath. So “average” means fat.