Thursday, June 02, 2011


Foto by tgw, New York City, April 2011
Reading and Writing and Arithmetic

I look at the day's news and I laugh. I don't mean giggling laughter but good ole wide-open mouth guffaw laughing...laughing like a crazed hyena. I laugh at both sides of the news. The rightwingers are hilariously funny. The leftwingers are as equally dumbass hilarious. But then this is a dangerous way to approach reality because in this sort of light even Hitler and Mussolini and Joe Stalin and FDR are comic characters. I mean no matter the despicableness of these characters, the murderous nature of their poor psychotic beings, they are still goofy-looking bastards, insane in their ideals, and phonies--though in many circles they are 20th-Century icons. All of these characters had great sexual problems--Hitler the pederast, homosexual-leaning, bad fuck (and check it out, you know Hitler got propositions from young admiring babes and boys every day of his life--and dumbass Eva Braun was willing to die with him); Mussolini the big-fat-blowhard buffoon of a character had a wife and family and mistresses all over the damn place--and later felt the wrath of his sexually deprived constituents when they stoned him and his mistress naked and hung upside down (how god-damn hilarious is that cruel scenario?); and Joe Stalin! Holy Joe, Joe chased women constantly--especially the younger ballet dancers and opera singers. And FDR? A cripple in a wheel chair--having to be propped up in order to appear undamaged to the dumbass American people--and yet FDR had a loyal mistress--which he seems to have openly admitted to to Eleanor, who was a sexual freak herself, with her "female companion" in later life, and her championing women's rights (not that that's bad--except in her case I say it was playing her trump cards on her husband--especially true of women who suffer from the diddling sins of their philandering husbands).

Let's see, Elliot Spitzer ruined his political career over a young hot Jersey-girl prostitute--I'm sorry, whores are called escorts these days in New York City. Lucky for Elliott he's a spoiled-brat millionaire who really never really had to work a day in his worthless life.

I on the other hand have friends who are I know very faithful to their wives--though these male friends got married late in life--and all of them had many affairs before these latter-day-savior wives--a couple of them having been married at a younger age, marriages that later dissolved, in one instance one friend coming home off a tour to find his wife in bed with another man.

When I was single, I boasted about preferring to date married women. I'd boast, you can have a good time with them, take them home, have wild sex with them, knowing that as soon as the last juices have been squeezed from the lemons, they will have to hurry home--and they have to keep quiet about it--UNLESS...and I truly believe this, there are married women out there who have affairs just to get back at their philandering husbands.

Like yesterday morning the first thing I saw in the Yahoo news was Anthony Weiner, a New York City politician, defending his ass against his supposedly, according to the rightwinger scandalmongers, twittering a below-the-waist photo (how stupid is that?) of his bulging self in his underwear to a college girl in Seattle. Right off the bat I was laughing my ass off. I'm laughing while thinking, it's old Big Balls Lyndon Johnson's "call him a pig fucker" tactic continuing to be wrung out for all its worth in this country's sordid, and it always has been, politics.

Male politicians (as well as all males with some kind of power--corporate power; the power of a judgeship; the power of a doctor, etc.) are stupid beasts no matter what corner of the ring they are in. Think about the sexual power of a political male no matter what political post he's been elected to. Even the local dog catcher tweets photos of himself in his underwear to female college students once he's won his elected position and the power that goes with it. How many politicians a week have to bail out of their posts due to having tweeted salacious photos of themselves to some young woman they have their pandering sexual eye on? Or how many of them have to admit to extramarital affairs several times during the year?

And I don't mean to limit my thinking on this matter to politicians, check out these two sleazy bankers (the IMF French sleazebag and the pathetically decadent-looking Egyptian banker) who tried to rape hotel maids in New York City over the past few days!

But back to sleazy politicians: let's have a remembrance of John Edwards and his sleazy affair with a young hot networking-her-ass-off babe while his wife of most of his life was dying of cancer. Or Newtie Gingrich, that piece of hypocritical crap, making his original wife sign the divorce papers while dying of cancer in her hospital bed, so he could sow his wild oats in some younger golddigging wench's fallow tubes. Or Al Gore, that precious piece of Dumbocratic crap, dumping Tipper after so many years of marital bliss to hook up with one of his younger babe admirers--big old bloated Al getting some young stuff at his old still-humping age. And this is a big male problem. While women get to retire from sexual promiscuity after the 'pause, men, in spite of women declaring men go through a male 'pause, stay horny seemingly forever.

You give a male animal any kind of power over a gaggle of lusty females and you bet he's gonna at least do a little sexual showboating and flirtin' and teasin' around his office or his bailiwick. Like our New York City billionaire mayor who while bossing about his Bloomberg LP empire was groping and accosting women sexually. Think about the power of a male animal boss worth billions of dollars with access to an office loaded with hot young entry-level babes wanting to impress the boss! I can lay you out a fairly long list of male bosses I have had who dumped their original wives for office babes--my last boss--an owner of the firm--dumped his original wife after a young daughter was run over in a traffic accident and the original wife flipped out--to hook up with his secretary and eventually marry her, and then advance her magically high up into the agency's works--like she suddenly became a board member with an executive-sounding title.

Slick Willie "Big Dog" Clinton couldn't resist the tempting little humping-her-way-to-the-top Monica Lewdwinsky. I mean, Big Dog, cumming on her little blue dress like that, a dress, by the way, that wasn't so little really since Monica was a BIG-size gal. How seedy is that scene?--and in the sacred Oval Office to boot. I mean, come on, can you see Big Dog diddling Miss Lewdwinsky with his illegal Cuban cigar? Very dignified, right? [Slick Willie "Big Dog" Clinton is an amazing story, going like he did from being a $30,000-a-year governor of one of the poorest and most backward states in the disrupted union, Arkansas, to now be sitting pretty boy as the head of his Slick Willie Foundation, his worth now estimated at between 200 million and 500 million bucks. Plus, how about the amazing success of his legal wife? From a $75,000-a-year Little Rock, Arkansas, lawyer to a President's wife, and from a President's wife to a job as a high-paid Senator from New York State, not her native state of course, on to becoming a viable candidate for President, then on to the powerful male position of Secretary of State (interesting to note Hillary is a secretary now), herself now a multimillionaire--a phenomenal success story. A big question in the Slick Willie/Hillary sexual adventures is did Hillary cheat on Billy Boy first?]

I came to New York City in the early 1970s from the Land of Enchantment, New Mexico, where I had lived for 5 years as a very young playboy with my very young beautiful Tex-Mex-Choctaw-Welsh wife. As a playboy, it was assumed by the local hot babes that I was wealthy. I mean, come on, I looked good on the outside: sharp clothes, beautiful wife, driving a Jaguar, living in a villa on the side of the mountain that hangs out over the city of Santa Fe; notoriously in the bars and local clubs every night, hanging with musicians and artists, a wild crowd. With such power, I had chance after chance with both single babes and other men's wives, even to an affair with a lipstick Lesbian--and since Santa Fe is the capital of New Mexico--with a lot of big-shot politician wives and loose daughters to boot. Plus, then I gained more male power when I started playing the piano at Saturday jam sessions around town--later working this jamming into gigs and then going out on the road as a working musician. I mean the power of being a working pianist--working mostly tourist-dependent cities from Texas over through New Mexico and Arizona to Los Angeles--in attracting women. I have, and I'm not ashamed to admit this, had numerous affairs when married or not married. I've been called a reckless adventurer when it came to my relationship to women--married three times, two marriages jokey marriages, one marriage a serious marriage, though even that serious marriage couldn't rein in my male power (machismo) and I was constantly subject to attracting the attention of extramarital-affair-minded women--I had affairs with my wife's two best friends for instant--in fact, I had affairs with nearly every one of her best friends, once with her bridge partner, why, I even had an affair with her sister; and yet, that didn't cause the marriage's failure--my wife and I were modernists, believers in sexual freedom, open marriages.

I developed this attitude that women, married or not, got excitement from affairs and that there were certain men, and I was one, who women chose to have affairs with. My father (a man most-times ruled by his penis) had told me when I was 8 and pestered by girls at school, at church, at picnics, and I appealed to him for help, that I was what he referred to as a "lady's man." Women loved to tease me--test their charms on me, he said.

For instance, how does a woman know she's attractive after she's been married several years and has maybe had a couple of kids unless when she steps out either with her husband or on a night out on the town with the girls she finds herself being checked out from head to toe and then hit on by men--and trust me, any single (married or not) male at a bar or club or party who sees a woman come into that scene who literally sweeps him off his sexual-encounter-possibility feet is tempted to "go for it." That's the nature of male life--a life where possessions mean power and women are possessions to males.

We are all looking for some kind of excitement and to some, especially males of power, sexual excitement can't be topped. Most sexual activities like drugs are illegal--and, yet, all across this great land of the free and home of the brave 24/7 there's some kind of sexual excitements going on--from both ends of the male power continuum for males: from rape at the extreme end back to romantic (puppy love) flings at the innocent end, there is a constant searching for sexual excitement going on.

I can see Anthony Weiner sitting late at night at the totally up-to-date computer We the People provide our representatives, tired from hustling campaign money all day long, his wife again with that perpetual headache, constantly on his ass about how he's never home--he's neglecting her and the kids--and, I mean, just that day a young college intern girl had appealed to him for a summer internship--a hot little minky--nice chest--zoftic [excuse my Yiddish]--nice ass--nice legs--"God-damn," Anthony's thinking, "these young girls these days are so loose." He then opens his Twitter account and sees this twit, I'm sorry, I mean tweet, from the college girl in Seattle..."Oh, Mr. Weiner, I am a very young and sweet and well-rounded college 'girl.' My dad says I'm the kind of girl who'd better watch out for men, cute men, powerful, like you, Mr. Weiner...." "Damn, she's hot. Ooooh and Black, too, and we know how us Jewish men love Black women as sexual objects...though God knows we can't get serious and have to marry them."

Is Anthony worried about ruining his political career? Hell no. Anthony's penis has usurped his male power center--besides, old Anthony's been in politics long enough to have stashed away some offshore bucks--I'm sure Anthony has a Swiss bank account and is starting up a foundation--maybe in his wife's name to appease her unhappy soul.

And this bullshit tops the headlines nearly every day of the week. Having affairs is exciting. Cheating on the wife is exciting. Chancing getting caught is exciting for both the men and women involved in these affairs. You can't stop the male's natural lusting for women 24/7--for we human monkeys aren't monogamous beings instinctually--nope, we human monkey males, like our lower counterparts, instinctually are driven to go about banging whatever or whichever babes turn their asses up toward us.

The basic idea behind sex is procreation. And of course this is why sexual promiscuity had to be made illegal in most societies, though males and female human monkeys break societal sexual promiscuity laws every day and night. Next time you're having anal sex with your boyfriend or girlfriend or mistress or wife, remember you are breaking the laws of governing males (including priests--and trust me, men of the gods have no control over their male sexual powers)--but I've known women who said they got more excitement out of anal sex than they did regular sex. I had a girlfriend many years ago during one of the many times wife #3 and I broke up and went our merry ways for brief periods of adjustment who only wanted anal sex--saying that way she could be pure and virginal when she finally met a man she desired to procreate with.

Who's next? Don't worry, there'll be a sexual scandal in tomorrow's headlines. We love sordidness in this country--but then, all societies masturbate to sordidness. As the Righteous Jimmy Cah-ter, the peanut farmer/nuclear scientist, said, all males lust in their hearts--the folds of their hearts, I assume. Jimmy admitting this in a Playboy interview I believe it was.

I mean the success of sleazebags like Hugh Hefner--it's amazing--making millions of dollars off male masturbation addiction--and come on, picture that old 88-year-old piece of withered up crap trying to bang his latest centerfold bimbo--you think he has a young stud who fills in for him when the action gets too much for old Hugh's cramping up testicles? I mean come on, that's a hell of a hilarious picture, isn't it? D.H. Lawrence in Lady Chatterley's Lover has Mellors the gamekeeper after banging Lady Chatterley one lovely idyllic afternoon down at his gamekeeper's cabin in the woods (women by the way love to make it in pastoral settings) talks about how silly a couple having sex look to the casual observer--the double-back beast! It may be silly looking, but, hey, it sure is fun and for males, I guarantee you, there is nothing more fulfilling than cumming while having sex with a beautiful (in the eye of the male beholder) woman. I'm sure it's the same pleasure women experience when their clits (female penises) get massaged the right way for the right rhythm and the right time.

Would I be far off if I said 90% of the world's problems today are due to sexual frustrations and inadequacies. But then I'm an old Freudian and we know that rad psychs slough old Herr Doktor Freud off as a psycho-babbler. "Hey, why waste time with clinical therapy when we've got these little miracle pills now?--you get a psychotic in who says, 'If you don't help me, Doc, I'm gonna murder somebody'--all you do is write him up some scripts and send him or her on their way. If a few months later this patient murders his whole family one night, you can claim, 'Hey, he must have gone of his's not my fault.'"

And, yes, men--say you're 70 years old and can't get it up but you see this hot young minky making eyes at you--letting her dress slip up a little too high, showing those long fine legs you are beginning to imagine being up around your shoulders. "Oh, if I could only still get it up, I'd bang her back to the Stone Age." "Hey, no problem, Pilgrim," says your urologist, "here, take this little blue pill and look out--you may get an erection lasting four hours or so!" And I love that claim on these Viagra and like sexual-enhancement drugs's commercials--if you have an erection lasting 4 hours or more see your physician! Come on, what man hasn't experienced an erection lasting four hours or more! When I was a schoolboy, I had erections that lasted seemingly 24/7. Priapus(pos) is king when it comes to male power.

An old master's rendition of Priapos(pus) weighing his monstrous tool.

For the above reasons, I now am ready to back Sarah Palin the MILF for president--I mean, can you catch my drift?

for The Daily Growler

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