Did you know that Hookers or Cake began life as a pornographic blog? Perhaps that helps explain the name. I would post softcore, amatuer porn and write terrible poetry inspired by the pictures. Here is an example (for scientific use only! NSFW)
I’ve since learned that all forms of pornography are wrong. Interestingly its only men who have pointed this out to me. They love and care about women so much that they feel it thier duty to eradicate pornography from the face of the earth. I am with them. I love women too and I do not want them hurt by this dirty filth we know as pornography.
Tis a shame because I really liked looking at boobies. Actually its the face and the boobs in unison. Really it was the whole naked ladieness of giggling, jiggling radiance that I enjoyed. But its wrong, so no more.
The problem is that since I’ve given up porn I’ve noticed myself looking at even modestly clothed ladies, lustily. Yesterday I saw a newspaper ad with a woman wearing a brassiere and almost bit a hole in my favorite cardigan. National Geographic is off limits, so are museums. Those Spanish speaking TV channels are full of porn. Bouncing, laughing, full blown, temptresses - saying God only knows, to leering little fat men. Women’s tennis is out of the question with all the grunting and lunging. The WNBA is fine. Bjork? Nope, can’t listen to it for two seconds. There is a fruit stand on 4th street that I’ve learned to avoid. Full ripe melons glistening in the sun…
I’ve also become suspicious of nature. The way the sun warms me and makes me feel. The gentle fragrant breeze caressing my face. Have you ever pondered just what exactly a tree is doing to the sky? I’ve stopped going to the bathroom too as I found the process fundamental dirty, wrong, and suspiciously stimulating.
I’ve had to give up drawing. First it was curved lines, but now even using only straight lines, the way some of them would intersect… why it would make even Prince Rodgers Nelson blush. Piet Mondrain is a whore-monger!
I don’t know what shall become of me, but I love and respect women too much to view any aspect of them as sexually exciting or pleasurable. My sole interest in them is now purely analytic. We are friends and co-workers and business associate’s, except for the ones that dress like whores. Like my boss, Nicole who insists on wearing short sleeves. She shall be cast in a lake of fire for all eternity. She’d probably like that though. She’d probably find that one great big turn on.
