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Be a Slut: A Straight Man's Advice to Bunni

Thursday night I'm out at my usual haunt hanging out with the usual suspects. My friend Bouncer Joe ( who is actually a very sweet guy who works for the government during the week and only bounces one night a week) gave me the following advice about gay Paris:

Be a slut. I mean be safe, whatever, but it's all about no judgment. Listen, what exactly is there to stop you? You want to come back thinking "If only I had done Jean Paul" No fucking way. You want sex. Go get it. And get some for me. In fact, get some for everybody in the this bar. You got it. You work it. Be a slut. Fuck everything. Don't think. If there is even a question in your mind, "Should I?" then you should. Go ahead. And if it's bad, well then, just don't tell us. Come back and pretend to be that prim English teacher that you do in class. But I'm serious. Be a slut. Screw everything with a beret and an accent.

Now I'm slightly intrigued by why Bouncer Joe suddenly thought it was necessary to encourage me to be a slut. Perhaps my sudden "dry spell" has caused him to think that a minor readjustment in standards ( ie the complete lack of any) might help. Or maybe he just wants me to be little Mlle Mauvaise Lapine.

The Fall of American Values

"I was only blogging for, what, less than two weeks?" she says. "Some people with blogs are never going to get famous, and they've been doing it for, like, over a year. I feel bad for them."

"She's a next-generation Monica, still snapping her thong and gabbing to the girls, only more cynical: free of romantic illusions about powerful men who are going to leave their wives. She's a real-life, "Sex and the City"-style Samantha who says sex is pure sport. She is an American uber-individualist... "

This is what the Washington Post has to say about a woman who became famous for writing an x-rated sex blog ( I wonder if Bob Woodward feels the same way about his writing career). And what no one seems to notice is that essentially what all of this means is that we continue to send the message to girls to fuck their way to the top. ( In the words of Jane Seymore, "It would be kind of silly to fuck my way to the bottom, wouldn't it?")

Now it may seem odd to post this so close to the slutty advice of my friend, but there is a difference. There is a difference in having sex because, well, if it is done right it's better than chocolate covered pizza and then writing to share the love, if you will. I'm not going to whore myself in Paris to "get ahead."

And the day I snap my thong at anyone is really one of the harbingers of the apocalypse. It just goes back to what I saying about a year ago at this time. It is rewarding bad taste to give this woman a book deal. And I don't mean like John Waters bad taste. I mean like Mr Roper from Three's Company bad taste.

The Little Mermaid

So my crazy hand standing Russian friend was over this weekend trying to make me feel better about my trip to Paris and he comes up with this:

I'm going to tell you something very secret. Something you can't tell anyone. I tried to write it once and it just didn't happen. It was a warning. I wasn't supposed to tell. People aren't ready.

You know about Atlantis, right? They were a very advanced people. I'm not going to get into the culture right now, but they got what they deserved. The people of Atlantis had red highlights in their hair and were green eyed with freckles (bunni's commentary: sounds a lot like the Irish,no?). They were so advanced they had outposts all over the world, satellites, so when Atlantis sank there were all these Atlanta's left here. Of course, they have married and propagated with the rest of us. But you can see it still, in some people like you. You have red highlights so your ancestors were survivors.They were born to be travelers, they are always looking at the ocean for their lost home, the home that will never come back.

Bunni responds:

So I'm supposed to accept that the reason I don't fit in anywhere has nothing to do with my physical disability, or anomalous appearance. It has nothing to do with my IQ or education. It has nothing to do with having a depressive paranoid alcoholic father. It is really because I am descended from the survivors of Atlantis.

Upside Down Ruskie:

You see, you are not ready for the truth.

Bunni:

Jackass.

Bad Bunni posted at 8/17/2004 02:45:00 PM |

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