A real fool that gets paid to talk to strangers in the street.

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Monday, February 14, 2011

Lost Angeles Women.


Let me break LA women down for you in a brief essay.

People ask me why I think good looking women are so approachable here. I’ll tell you why. There are small towns all over America, all over the world. In each of these towns there is a girl or two that are told their entire lives that they are the best thing ever, that they are the prettiest, most talented and charismatic person that exists there. They receive so much praise for being themselves that the only place they should go is a magical town called Hollywood. Hollywood is the supposed glitz and glamour capital of the universe. These women brave the storm and travel here, abandoning their pasts for a future of fame, fortune, praise, and ultimately the ultimate form of attention, front and center on the world’s stage. These girls have been hearing yes their whole lives, yes from their parents, from their high school drama teachers, from boys, college admissions boards, and their girlfriends. They hear “yes” so much that their brains are dedicated and addicted to the word as if it were regular and expected. For the most part they come out here in their prime, after they’ve been seasoned in their respective home towns or cities. Years of preparation have gone into this decision so once they’re here they must maintain their looks, talent, and presence.

First they want an agent. Everyone needs one. They also want a manager. Once they get those things they can go on proper auditions, go sees, interviews, what have you. Therein lies the key. Auditions. These girls that have been hearing yes their entire lives and finally start hearing no. There are just so many women here. They look the same as each other; they dress the same, walk the same, act the same, and ACT the same. Odds are if you’re a good looking girl with an inkling of talent you’re gonna go on a fair amount of auditions, but still the odds are against you. The talent pool is just too large to hear yes as frequently as they need to feel like themselves. A five day work week of hearing no does things to these girls’ brains.

Meet Friday, the last day of the work week. After a long week driving in the sun to multiple locations in full makeup and strutting their supposed talents and bodies, all the while hearing no, these girls need a cocktail, and this is why it’s so easy to approach them. They hear no so frequently that even a meager amount of acceptance or attention from the opposite sex via a drink bought for them or a compliment, makes them feel the opposite of rejected. They feel wanted, and attractive, funny, charismatic, worthwhile, and like themselves, the person who left Bloomington Indiana four quick years prior. Yes is a powerful word, especially to someone who’s addicted to hearing it. That’s why men in LA can “make out” like bandits. Cause you won’t reject them, at least not on a Friday after you have been hearing no all week too. It’s mutually beneficial, and after two drives of shame and one morning after pill both parties are ready to pound the pavement once again that Monday knowing that someone out there that looks like the next Matt Damon thinks they're funny in bars, and talented in the sack.

It’s a funny place, this dreamland. I still say yes to it. I actually talk to LA as if it were my high school principal while I’m in detention, and that’s it. LA is a lot like High School. There are a lot of cliques. There are tests every day that you either pass or fail. There are lessons all day, every day. When you put a whole bunch of people together that have been told they are the shit their entire lives and suddenly their bus stops for a while at every light, some real interesting conversations take place and inhibitions get thrown out the window. So approach that girl next Friday, offer her a drink. She’ll most likely say yes.

Friday, February 11, 2011

Houses I'll Never Buy, Women I'll Never Fuck


My friend back in NY found a piece of paper with two lists on it that her boyfriend left out in the open accidentally.  The lists were titled, "houses I'll never buy, and women I'll never get to fuck." She called me a little distraught and paranoid.  When she told me, I laughed.  I laughed for a bunch of reasons.

I tried to justify it to her, but even the smartest women logically thinking, and not on their period cannot comprehend the internal strife most men are stricken with.  I say all this in jest.

You see men live and die by those lists.  Those lists are internal tattoos that we keep adding on to all the time, and we can’t help it.  We want what we can't have.  We want what you have.  We want something bigger, better and smoother than what we've had, and what you have. It's innate.

When you see a man working out in the gym, he's most likely not working out to improve his vascular system functioning.  He's trying to get a blowjob and a house with a two-car garage. When you see any man in a library studying  it's not because he want to understand poetry.  He's trying to learn as many words as he can, so that when the time comes he can impress that single girl wearing glasses, in a black satin dress at the dinner party.  When you see the redhead kid in gym cloths outside the Starbucks on sunset blvd, writing.  He's not writing a to his mother.  He's writing a blog entry about unattainable houses and women.

Now women, women can become CEO's, deans, and Secretary of State.  Women can do anything.  I adore women.  Each woman that passes me by is a story I'll never write.  Women can work just as hard as men, and obtain huge feats, but some women, "get it".  They can climb up the transparent unspoken caste system that adheres to American men, just by talking to one of them, and that chance, that dialogue is what keeps men working out, reading in libraries, and making lists.

You can work to be a better man, a smarter man, a grounded man.  You can also appear to be those things.  It's that ratio, that chance that gives your lists a chance.  Because most of those girls in sweatpants and Ugg boots can't differentiate for shit.  Your lists are not fruitless, maybe selfish, and even silly.  It's what god gave us.  Cavemen wrote these kinds of lists on walls, and they wanted the same things we do, better caves.