|
what’s important to us. All the while we ignore the inherent problems within our society’s lifestyle that enable us to waste so much to make things a little easier on our own lazy asses. Finally, if you want my directions for making your own duct tape girdle, drop me a line. At this point, it’s the only advice I can give.
"Television is the idolic teat that weans both young and old of original thought" Got Satisfaction? by Mr. Schweenie My sex life up to present has been little more than a bunch of infrequent depraved romantic encounters fueled by desperate lust, substance abuse, false first impressions, bad judgement, and the all-powerful libido. In short, I'm just like you. With little hesitation, I have denied many truths, sacrificed my ideals, and brutally murdered the virtues of my being. I've come out with a few scars, a small amount of wisdom, age, and a great deal of self loathing/doubt. Last Sunday I had a satisfying encounter with one of my first girlfriends (it's not what you think... she dumped me years ago) you'll need some history before I continue. I believe it happened one cold January night, I was 16, she told me she was still in love with her 20-year-old boyfriend (on whom she was cheating with me [she was 15 he was 20, get the picture]) after a 2-hour loud as possible Social Distortion marathon the sting of her venom, injured pride, and rejection was gone. __________________ I*d like to stress for the record a simple and important fact. I was not in love with her, I was thinking only with my genitals! I merely ignored her character flaws. I too did it all for the "nookie." (I.e., desperate lust, substance abuse, false first impressions, bad judgement . . . sacrificed ideals bla bla bla) I thought I had seen the end of her, I found other vein endeavors and was glad she had deprived me of her company. A few years later my older brother told he had met Sapphire who was now pregnant; apparently she let five or so guys nail her over a month or two. When the father to be found out she*d been givin' her love to the red-neck world, he split. Through her excessive drinking she miscarried but continued open-boarder-free-trade foreign policy eventually leading to yet another pregnancy. I thought it interesting to hear of how she invited my brother to her apt. to "hangout" when her boyfriend was not home. I guess she thought "what the hell, you can't get re-pregnant." I later heard from her sister Marla that she was living in a trailer in Salt Lake City with her Alcoholic-junkie boyfriend. He was a real stud, doing coke on the kitchen table with his friends. He beat her occasionally but lulled her into the lap of luxury with his $500.00 a month salary. (He now makes $10.00 an hour) In a sick way I was happy she had at last fulfilled her potential in life. Which brings us to where I began. Last Sunday, the day of reckoning. At first I didn*t recognize her, she's gained at least fifty pounds, most of which was on her face, neck and ass. Her once olive complexion and smooth, soft |
skin was now aged and sagging. Her great singing voice was now all but decimated by constant smoking. I saw before me a badly aging 37 year old mother of six who lived on cigarettes, cheese balls, and beer. Alas she is only a 19-year-old mother of one. To make matters worse her child (whom I pity) was incredibly ugly on account of his enormous and miss-shaped head.
Completing this parade from the island of Dr. Maroe, was her shack-up and perhaps the father of her unfortunate child. In true red-neck fashion he carried himself like a man with unequaled intellect and character. Marla told me of how they spent romantic evenings together drinking, watching porn, and making love on their trailer floor. I was certain they were the perfect American couple, destined for many long and fulfilling years of love and prosperity. McJagger, you fool. I got my satisfaction,. More loving than her affection, more soothing than self affirmation. More beautiful than sunsets, waterfalls, Meg Ryan, or any Boukouski poem. However, with every prize come all applicable taxes, for me it was the realization that I have been the turning point in the life of every girlfriend I've ever had. Somehow their lives spiral down in flames following our involvement. Perhaps they sense the on coming evil and flee my life as they enter, smiling, with few words and little or no thought. Perhaps sick pride or my vengeful spirit has aided in the conception of this theory. All to often people think whatsoever suits them. However, here are a few of the other possibilities. 1. I am the karma bellhop doomed to deal with baggage all my life until that day when I can no longer tote and stow my daily quota. Aged, frail, and defeated by a life long losing streak, I'll wander into a green peace rally while snapping the limbs off my house plant... waiting for the right moment I'll unleash a rubber chicken and a role of quarters and make short work of them all. 2. like dust attracts more dust, I draw the fragmented souls of hungry women into the sexual arena. Here we rape and ravish one another . Like hydrophobic rats thirsting for affection, for adoration, gnawing at the pillars of character spreading plagued thoughts and emotions with their skat. We lark; cocks with razor spurs driven by instinct, the pulsating rush of slashing and tearing. Until nothing is left but meat, the raw bloody flesh of animals. Without purity, love, thought, or remorse. 3. Everyone is a sick depraved looser in their own, special and unique way. You usually won't find out about this until you date them. 4. Dating is a low point in life. 5. the sex drive is the only thing that prevents a gender war. Without the addictiveness of the heterosexual fuck, men and women would attempt gendercide. 6. I love to complain, (makes me feel good about myself) I thrive on rejection and in my own sick way this sort of thing is what makes me happy. |
