In some strange proceeding of circumstances, the guy I met on the train on the way to KL has emailed me and offered me a pair of tickets to somewhere in
I always quote an absolutely outrageous price each time, and it ranges anything from $1200 to $5000 a night. Yank told me he felt the price was steep, and I said that’s what I believe one night with me is worth, and what I would need, before I would even consider getting intimate with him in any possible way. Of course all of them decided not to after I cite what I needed. And my point is, look, if you want only to get laid, go to
There is an inherent irony in the situation. Because sex is so easy, and so cheap to get in
As a digression, has it ever occurred to you that the western ideal of the perfect stiefmeister (alluding to American Pie) might actually be a case of the world trying to even it’s populations out? I mean, if a huge part of the world’s population today is made out of every other race except those of Caucasian progeny, and women tend to want to fuck the same sort of guys, and being white is nearly a pre-requisite to fall into this category, then in a few centuries, the balance would be brought back.
So as I was saying, if I ever do have sex for money, I am nearly sure I won’t be abused, because it’s just cheaper and easier to do likewise elsewhere. And it is ironic, because paid for sex in
But then again, nothing is ever safe. In this world, you can only ever do things to reduce your risks. So what if you’re going to be in a loving marriage. Oh Bullshit. Didn’t you know, you’re husband-to-be goes to Tanjung Pinang to screw wanton Polynesian girls. At least I’m sure when I do marry, I’ll give him not one whit of a reason to lie to me, and even less reason to sleep with prostitutes. What for, when you’re girlfriend’s brining back her friends anyway. What a pleasantly plausible way to risk-reduction.
People are way to hell bent on aggressive strategies. The way to fight terrorism is not to attack a singular state, or embargo obscure African nations. The way to do it is to make it not worth it for the terrorists to attack. To reduce the ratio of damage to cost. It’s the same thing with just about everything else. From German soccer, and on to sex. You don’t tell people not to have sex and wreck them with guilt and fear. All strategies based on fear eventually do no good to mankind, it is, after all, absolutely unhealthy.
And I definitely feel extremely frustrated right now and like I need to throw myself off a mountain.
Let’s not even talk about Mike. He’s nice, and there’s nothing what so ever that’s wrong with him, but I just really don’t want to be with someone new. I feel nothing for him and want nothing from him. Fuckity fuckity fuck. I am WAY to annoyed at myself and my own flippancy with relationships. Sometimes I think I use Ethan too much as an excuse. I always tell myself everything will be allright when I get to meet him again. I will stop wanting to sleep with other people. Perhaps I won’t (sleep with new people), but how about the ones that I’ve been seeing for so long, and really, completely like? And Martine? That IS a mess. Because I still do want to see him.
Apparently he called me to ask for my bank account number. Remember the play which I watched with the G-Spot eventually? He presumed I had already paid for the tickets and asked me if $200 was able to cover it, because that was the price he’d seen on the postcards advertisements. I had just spent quite a great deal of money on this year’s Halloween outfit and a dress that looks like a Gucci rip-off, but is completely beautiful. So I didn't tell him that my dad had already paid for them.
Well, at least I got $200 for sleeping with Martine, and causing a lot of unnecessary evils along the way as well. Heh.
xoxox
No comments:
Post a Comment