EMBARRASSMENT, LIFE GOALS, HUMOR, VANITY, HYGIENE & GENITALIA
I'm playing catch up. It's fine. We'll make it work.
Am I embarrassed by my failure to achieve the few life goals I've set, deflecting my legitimate desires for progression and/or stability in order to keep things fun, humorous, entertaining in ways that almost cheaply serve my own vanity, not even bothering to symbolically maintain proper hygiene by washing the sad indulgences of misogyny from my genitalia?
That may just be some rambling bullshit, but what if it isn't?
Let's work backwards. It seems that most of the straight men I know are very turned off by the penis. They don't enjoy my nudity, and act as if dealing with another cock would be the worst thing that could ever happen. I think this comes from a stubborn denial of imagination, as if even entertaining the notion of dueling uber-peni would cause some sort of internal meltdown.
But I don't think there's anything wrong with dick. I certainly enjoy all sorts of activities involving my own, and to be honest, I'm a bit curious about sexual activity involving others. After seeing and feeling so many blow jobs, I think it's pretty weird to not wonder what the other end would be like. At the very least it's called empathy, and it's one of the most important qualities in the world.
But here's where the divide comes in. I don't feel any of the complex intricacies of thought and emotion that women do as far as receiving pleasure or power from pleasuring a man. I understand the concept from my proclivities towards cunnilingus, but for now I'm just addressing my feelings regarding boners in my face. What's different for me is that I have neither the curiosity nor the desire to please another man. Maybe it's narcissism, but seeing his face, his o-face, to me, seems so much worse than his peen.
It's a complicated issue.
As far as vaginas, I'm not sure that I'm a bigger fan of anything else in the known universe. They're not all perfect, and by that I simply mean that they're not all perfect for me, which is fine. I prefer a twat with character. None of this vapid vag, stale tail, ho-hum cum bum crap. Save the lackluster sackbusters for somebody else. Your perfectly pruned patches of pubic placidity can play pussy-pet for other people's penasia.
I'm not sure what's happening here.
Luckily, this works out as far as propagating the species.
Because we want to stay involved with each others uglies. There's good stuff there, if you take care of it. Not so much the grooming (ugh, the grooming), but the cleaning. That fusion smoothie in our underpants, for those of us who wear them, is a daily reminder that stink exists. I'm not even much for hygiene, but you have to have at least a hooker's bath a few times a week (that's your face, pits, ass & crotch, the last two being a bit of a combo. Has anyone else called a chode "the ball pit?" Coined and minted.)
Actually, I hate being hygienic. No, that's incorrect. I hate grooming (ugh, the grooming). Hygiene is important, even though people overdo it. This two shower a day shit? That's no good. Maybe two a week.
My vanity is mostly internal. I try to look or smell pleasant enough, but I can't commit much time or especially money to that. Do as much primping as you need fellas, I'll be arrogant with attitude and wit. I certainly spend my time with the mirror, but it's mostly basic maintenance. Nose hair, acne, dandruff, etc. I suppose that could be called vanity, but it could also be called hygienic.
It could also be called fuck you.
Because I'm operating under the assumption that other guys are going for and may achieve quite often the idea of magazine hot, I focus more on jokes. And it is a focus. I spend a lot of time and mental energy on shaping humor. There's research, development, experimentation; I'll compose a tweet for twenty minutes.
I love a good clean joke as much as I love a dirty vagina, and I love a dirty joke as much as a good clean asshole...
I have never found a philosophy that makes as much sense to me as laughter. It's somehow a zen like joy of violent understanding. My biggest goal in life is to make people smile, but the largest facet of that is laughter.
My other life goals all pale in comparison to this one. Do I want to write for a living? Sure. Do I want to travel, everywhere, anywhere? Of course. Do I want to stay within the magic and rapture of true love, share my life with others, age with any sort of extended family that lives in comfort from my actions? Absolutely.
But I'll also drive a truck for $11 an hour in Dallas if we can all keep laughing together. And I'll do it completely free of embarrassment.
Almost completely free.
I maybe shouldn't have talked about the penis stuff so much.
No Shame!
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