I Need a Dime

I need a dime, that's top of the line
Cute face, small waist, with a big behind

-- "Badd" by Ying Yang Twins f/ Mike Jones

Don't even pretend like this track isn't "So hot right now."

If you looked at the dry, insipid prose from the last post and were bored out of your skull, please do not fret. I'm not so pretentious to think that I should write solely about literature....or some junk.

At any rate, here is some more dry and insipid prose straight from my mind:


“Question reality and the substance therein,” Scott ponders to himself. He’s groggy. Looks at the clock, sees the time, scratches his head as a bemused look befalls his countenance. “That was just a dream asshole,” Scott mutters aloud to himself. The stereo begins to play a song, right on time. “I hate it when I wake up before that thing.” Scott gets up, but before he can turn the power off, he stands there and stops to listen to the music while glancing at the poster in the corner of his eye. There on his wall stands a beautiful red head, wearing a glittering red dress. She’s braced with her back, alluringly posed, against a street lamp. The world around here seemingly descends into darkness. He looks at her face. Scott decides that she wants to fuck. “Only rational explanation,” Scott mutters. The light seems to be attracted into her face. The photons of this imaginary world cannot escape her bright green eyes; they shimmer off her dress. Scott wonders, “What is the substantial difference between the photons of this imaginary world and the real world? And how would my life be any different if the real photons had failed to transmit the necessary information to my brain? The necessary information being that this girl is so attractive that I would rather be in there than over here. The music obviously gets into my ear by riding a special wave, and the impulse to fuck came about because that girl over there had to ride a special wave. And this wave just happened to go in my eye. Her beauty and her alluring quality are all encoded in those damned photons. My brain read the code. Then, the right side of my brain looked at the left side, and they got together and decided that I need a girl. But that cannot be correct because I had that dream. And so, the logical conclusion must be that my brain told my eyes to be on the look out for sex photons. That’s how the physical universe can conspire with the one inside my head. I’m hungry.”



As you can imagine, this is an excerpt from an uncompleted work that I wrote several months ago now. I think I was trying to create a character with an acute interest in physics and girls...I was also trying to make him severely more neurotic than myself. I think to believe that I was trying to accurately portray myself is a severe misinterpretation due to the simple fact that I would never have such lucid thoughts right after waking up.

In this scenario, the protagonist wakes up next to an imaginary and objectified female form, but maybe we can go over the real thing for a second. Waking up next to a sleeping girl is an undeniably good thing (unless of course it is the product of severe intoxication and results in having way too much to explain for). The experience is distinctly different from girl to girl. It's possible to wake up next to a girl who instills fear and loathing within -- this can come from a girl that you want to sleep with desperately, in despite of all the warning signs that vociferously indicate how tragic that will end. You find yourself touching and feel severe guilt as a result. You don't wake her up because she won't fuck you anyhow. It's possible to wake up next to a girl and feel completely indifferent and bored -- most likely because you have been lying to yourself about how in love you are with her. You wake her up because all you want to do is fuck. Of course, you can wake up next to a girl that feels like home. You want to sleep all day in her bed and not disturb her for a second. The temptation becomes too great, and you give her a kiss on the forehead, behind the ear, down the neck and so on. Maybe you are jealous because you can no longer have what she has: blissful and innocent repose, for you are rapt with severe attraction and desire. You want to hold her tight and not let go, and for once in your life, it's not all about the sex. Contentment.