Friday, May 28, 2004

I was just thinking, the line between R and NC-17 movies is very small ... Rather, the size of a male member.

See, I think in our schizophrenic culture where Puritans rule, sexuality and sensuality are confused as one.

When I was holed up in Paris last year, I became acquainted with un petit shack that carried magazines. It "perplexed" me that the front covers contained nipply women, though the title was clearly marked "Vogue" (okay, so I oggled longer than acceptable ... It must've been a cold photoshoot) After many-a minutes with this, I stopped caring, ne'er batting an eye when I passed.

Okay, so the point of that was: Body parts are what we make of them. Covering them up only increases the mystery (like everything else in society), thereby, lending an unhealthy dose of confusion and idealization to an unsuspecting and ignorant crowd of horny teenagers. And boy are they aggressive when they're horny. Which explains the rampant use of steroids (even though steroids are proven to shrink nads.) That's what you call a conundrum.


I just realized I'm currently trying to blow off the only guy who'll always be on call to sex me up. But the need to get laid just isn't as strong as the need to repel really possessive men.

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