Goodnight, Ladies

“I’m in the mood for Love…”

Or, more frankly, I wanna have sex with most of the beautiful and intelligent Blogger girls. They know who they are. Some put their pictures on the Web for all to see. Some use real names. Others keep a low profile by signing on as “Turnip Gal” and show only a picture of a stalactite growing slowly. They're full of piss. They're full of vinegar. I’ve gotten to where I can’t distinguish between who’s smart and who’s just cagey—what’s the difference, anyway?

They talk to me as time goes by—sometimes in the public forum, sometimes on email. Sometimes I wish I could dish them up with a large silver spoon just right for their ass and slip them into bed beside me. I like bouncy bottoms, no matter what you say. Big bosoms don’t hurt, either, I guess; women were made to be curvy, though I’ve finally learned to like the slim girls, too! When I was young I never thought much about Jackie Kennedy looking fine, but now I can pitch in and regret that she’s dead! Another fine piece of womankind gone! That’s the only thing I really have in common with President Kennedy—he liked the thin ones and the buxom ones, too. I guess that was one interesting meeting in heaven. “Uh, Mrs. Onassis, Meet Marilyn Monroe…say, wasn’t Jack here a moment ago?”

But I was talking about lust and possibly love, wasn’t I? In general, women who aren’t attracted to me as much as I am to them tend to believe I’m in lust, not love. They may be right, though I’d hate to think so. From the time I was an older child, I was in love with women. I remember a girl in sixth grade named Bonnie Wucker. Where the hell is she now, I wonder? She was dark-haired, handsome, nice as far as I knew. But she never knew I thought so. I was too shy. It’s useless to remember her, though it makes me feel a little bit like that sweet young boy again to remember! Like someone who wants to love her, not fuck her!

Of course, I wouldn’t have known what that was at the time. It helped simplify the world’s affairs a lot, you know, when you didn’t know yet what your penis was for!

These days, love and lust are much the same. If I sincerely mean one, I’m apt to mean both. To whom? To me. That’s all there is, really. I’ve given up on convincing You or Them! If you’re one of my blatantly delicious Blogger women, so be it. I’m in love with you and at least halfway to lust. Those who are upset by it should mail me bad photos of themselves, email me with curses, leave dung at my doorstep, kick me in the shin! I would take the hint, eventually.

Meanwhile, I stick out my tongue and make a slurping noise every time you look the other way. No, I’m not Hannibal the cannibal! Blech! That sounds awful. If I wanted to eat you, you’d still be all there when it was over! Yeah, and quivering all over! Ahh! What’s it hurt, after all? Your boyfriend, your husband? Your children, who won’t allow you the status of being human for fear they’d have to be nicer? Too bad. I’m as alive as diabetes and misery allows these days, and I’d love to make you wiggle! If it’s not feasible, it’s okay. I live in imagination, but I’m as practical as the next fellow when need be. Sorta. Though I’d like to hold something against you, Blogger Ladies, I won’t hold this against you without any warning. I wouldn’t want to startle the birds.

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