I see class everywhere

I see class everywhere, as in socioeconomic class. I'm at the local comm. college library (lower-to-middle class) looking at artforum magazine (highbrow). artforum reminds me of Vogue: so many ads I can't tell when I'm looking at an article. Makes me mad. Reading a retrospective on Chris Marker. Alexandra Stewart (hot!) writes that she was "sent to a boarding school at the Vermont-Canadian border, way off in the country." I instantly hate her. In my middle class suburb of Detroit, I dreamt of going off to boarding school. I would have gladly traded the inevitable sexual assault for even a Holden Caulfield's time at a prep school "back East." Alexandra Stewart viewed boarding school as a sentence to be served. A sentence that she ultimately did serve--in exchange for a trip to fucking Paris.

The more I read of her personal reflections on Chris Marker, the less I hate her. I admire Chris Marker's movies and so her affection for him endears her to me. And this is always the way it is. I try to keep things utterly simplistic but it never works out. I'm not bragging or anything. I know this is obviously true of everyone except the most ludicrous ideologues, like Nazis, etc. Thing is, I want to find a way to be an unequivocal ideologue (in my case Marxist) who is NOT ludicrous. Unlike most other people (I think), I take no pride in seeing the grey areas; I take no pleasure in exploring the complexities and nuances of things. I like concreteness, certainty, high contrast, extremes, excess, clarity, cleanness. Shit or get off the pot. Pick a side. When Bush said, "You're either for the U.S., or you're against it," I called him stupid like most people. But deep down it was not because of his mindless simplicity, but because he was on the wrong side.

I'm gonna hurt myself or someone else

I'm sitting at Hooters dying a bit over the hotness of these fucking women. I want them SO bad. (BTW, JAIME is fucking FINE, and I also had INA, KRISTA (former student), FELICIA, and KELLY sign my napkin), As I sit, I'm reflecting on last night. I have a severe problem with impulse control.

Yesterday I decided I couldn't afford to stop off at some TnA place for a beer so I poured myself a couple of stiff drinks from the bottle stashed in my back seat. Well I poured a LOT; like at least 8 oz. of Wild Turkey.

Wife totally busted me on it even before I got home. I was slurring that bad on the phone. What really sucks is that this has become a fairly frequent thing. I really struggle to just have a couple of drinks. I want to blot shit out. I want to push the buzz way too far.

So blah blah blah I got FUCKED up and did the following:
1. Bought more gay underwear and had a really long conversation with the owner of the store. I don't know what the fuck I said to this guy and I am thinking I shouldn't go back there.
2. I fucking drunk dialed a former student of mine from the local CC. Relax, bitches, she is like 48 and has a kid in his 30s, so I am in no way a creepy pedophile. (I'm just creepy)

I had a weird little relationship with this woman when she was my student. She was quite a sight on the first day in August: fuck-me pumps, really short denim min, super-tight, low-cut top with her really big tits ready to bust out. Kind of a "butter face," but given the rest of the package, I was VERY impressed.

So we flirted a LOT in and out of class and this relationship seemed to have all the makings of a porn film or Penthouse letter. But alas, we never totally went for it. We had one very hot night in a local club (I'll blog about that some other time--it was HOT), but nothing really went down. So I wish I remember what the fuck I said when I drunk dialed her, but I don't. I do remember (I think) that she was pretty frosty in response to my drunken phone call. I thought she was a kind of Ace in the hole--my first official Booty Call--but I guess not. Fuck.

Guess What? I'm at the Bar Dying for Sex!

So I'm at a bikini bar and my server has been a colossal disappointment. I've tried to hold up my end of things, but she's just been an inattentive bitch. Yet I keep trying to get her attention.

God these women are so hot. It kills me. I'd take any one of the servers here and do her right on the table.

BBW: fat chicks=size queens

OK, so i'm rarely attracted to fat chicks. this sucks because they seem to be the most sexual women out there. problem is, they are invariably size queens, BDSM chicks, and/or BBC freaks. So here are the reasons I imagine you BBW's are the way you are:

1. You are humiliated by the fact that you're fat, so you want to humiliate guys back by attacking their penis size. So you can essentially say, "I'm fat, but you're cock is small compared to black guys, so we're both inadequate."
2. You attract black dudes who are SO into big booties that they will fuck you, especially since you provide an opportunity to fuck a white chick with no strings attached. He gets to take something from whitey, and you get validation and revenge on all the white dudes who passed you by.
3. In simple physiological terms, you need a huge cock to penetrate you. Your obesity requires a man to be able to push past several inches of fat to enter your vagina.

fuck!

i just want to get fucked. I'm SOOOOOOO fucking horny! wife will fuck from time to time, and it's really hot a lot of the time. but not enough. i want to fuck lots of women, especially young, hot women.

so what am i to do?

and if you say, " well what about your SO, what if she wants to fuck lots of guys and isn't satisfied with you?"

Well, you got a point. I don't know what to say about that, because honestly, I am a total hypocrite about this. I want to fuck lots of different women. And I want her to fuck only me. Or no one. The worst thing in the world to me is the idea of her fucking a guy with a huge cock, with whom I can't compete. So there you have it.

Look at my Junk!

So I picked up some "gay" underwear, and I love it. It seems to me that gay men have it right when it comes to their bodies. More than us straight guys, they seem to celebrate their bods and show them off. They do what straight women do all the time: flaunt it, work it, etc. I guess the common denominator is that both gay men and straight women want to attract the attention of men, who tend to be highly visual.

I sure as hell don't look like the catalog models in my "power pouch" jock, but I still love the way it pushes my junk out, displaying an "aggressive profile" in the words of the ad copy. To say it plainly, when I put it on, I feel sexy. I realize how queer that sounds and I don't care.

I understand men have little to bitch about in this world, but it nevertheless bugs me that were I to share my enjoyment of sexy underwear with friends and co-workers, I would be laughed at and villified. They would suggest that I should audition for the next season of "Tool Academy" and they would be right. Men who want to show off had better be gay. Otherwise, they're branded perverts, freaks, and laughably delusional.

I blame this state of affairs on women. More on that later.

Look at my Poll