“The universe gives what the universe gives, yes. Cheap thrills, plenty of those, enough to get you through until Halloween when the Catholic school girls come out in full force and wink as they ask you to spank them (they’ve been very naughty). I’m going to sleep now and dream of deeper waters with treasure at the bottom. This junk has rendered me catatonic. I’m a mermaid, goddamn it, not the tooth fairy existing solely to place silver dollars beneath your crybaby pillow.”
“Many American women over forty are not worried about their wrinkles and don’t give a rat’s ass about enhancing them. There’s this scientific fact called gravity. Gravity happens to us all, men and women. Some women and men over forty spend money fighting gravity with cosmetics and cosmetic surgery. That’s their ball game. That’s their parade. More power to them. There was once this woman named Gertrude Stein. She was the aesthetic opposite of Marilyn Monroe. I never knew Ms. Stein but from what I’ve read about her life I would venture to say that she was approximately (there’s no way of measuring such things…well, there are a couple of ways) a million times happier than Marilyn Monroe. Sexy on the outside doesn’t do much for ugly on the inside. This isn’t to say that Marilyn Monroe was ugly on the inside. I’m sure she was really fucking gorgeous on the inside, too. Bottom line: sparkle on the INSIDE can enhance ANYTHING on the outside.”
“That night Lance wants to rub his penis as he thinks of Lexi but he refrains. He doesn’t want Lexi to be a masturbatory fantasy in the tradition of Cindy Crawford, Heather Locklear, Kate Hudson and Whoopi Goldberg. No. Hell no! As a matter of fact, hellll no with marshmallows on top. Lance wants Lexi to be his special lady, everything he needs and more. Lance has a gut feeling, an irritable bowel syndrome sensation, that Lexi is his Soul Mate, the one woman God made especially for him to enjoy. Lance wonders if Lexi is allergic to hyacinths. Roses are so common.”
“I dreamed Kim Kardashian was sobbing but her makeup was still flawless. She stood on stage in a tight little cleavage squishing dress holding her award in her arms. Her out of focus, uninspired photograph of sunflowers and bluebonnets won Photograph of the Year in her church’s photography contest. I was kind of bitter about it but I didn’t attend her church and I didn’t enter the contest.”
“Yesterday I just felt like eating my ass off so I did. I ate two Chef Boyardee pizzas, a Fifth Avenue candy bar, an entire package of fun size Snickers (that was fun!), several cherry sours (not the entire package, there are still a few left), an apple (apples don’t taste as good as they used to), several Slim Jims, a slice of burnt garlic toast, white cheddar popcorn and microwave popcorn. Today I will drink black coffee, eat a bowl of oatmeal (old school, boiled on the stove but no butter but lots of cinnamon and brown sugar) and dance to various YouTubes. I need to buy a pair of gloves, get my ass to the boxing gym and learn to love protein shakes. Also, I want to run a marathon. Then I want to get a backpack, stuff it with trail mix and the like and take to the road like the chick in that Wild book.”
“I hit the goddamn jackpot with celebrity dreams this a.m. In the latest dream I was in bed with Tom and Katie. I’ve never thought much of Tom Cruise but as I watched him fuck Katie fueled with insane lust and cocaine I murmured, 'God, Tom, I admire you so much.' Katie went to the bathroom to clean up and Tom fucked me. I was too happy to remember that I always preferred Ice Man to Maverick.”
“I’ve got a rather elegant purplish bruise on the second toe (which is longer than the first toe) of my left foot. I was standing in the shower. A bottle of shampoo fell from the towel rack and hit my toe. GODDAMN it HURT like a MOTHERFUCKING BITCH. I survived. If you would like a picture of my bruised toe, let me know. I sell specialty photographs via PayPal. Maybe a picture of my ass is more your style. I’ve got an ass, yes, and knees and elbows and hands and fingers and feet and toes and all the rest. The only thing I am missing is a uterus but I couldn’t photograph that for you even if I had one because I am not an x-ray technician. We all have fetishes to work through. My exact job title is Fetish Facilitator. Contact me.”