I've been to many parts of the world; countless countries, a multitude of cities, and a legion of lands. These worlds are filled with unique interests to the travelers like yours truly, but the words interest me the most. Specifically, the terms people use in dialogue.
I was in London recently and after a show I proffered a smile at two ladies in delicate dresses. The site of my pearly whites must have given them a cue as within seconds the three of us were chatting. They were lovely ladies in their late twenties I imagine, but both had never stepped foot off the island of the United Kingdom. I found this a bit odd at first, but used it to introduce my experiences from around the world. Their eyes danced with delectable delight and they asked for more and more. I filled their inner selves with their unaware wants and gave them information they would never use.
It was pleasant, I'll admit, and I always enjoy a good round of words with strangers. But after I was a few yards away, I overheard one lady state, "What a lovely bloke." I apologize madam, but gentlemen like me are not blokes. Now be off with you bread-hunters!
© 2009 The Serial Monogamist. All rights reserved.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Model Lunch
It was a busy Saturday. I prepared a model with lewd legs for a public strut in a nice outfit. The company chose her because of sexual prowess of her lower body. But this woman had a restive attitude as if I was Balaam and she was the donkey. I manipulated her into obedience by appealing to her lust for collecting stares - models, they are all the same.
In general, I find narcissism a weakness in humans, but one I can easily exploit. I was in a sexual mood and she was away from her loved one. I should call him "one who loved her" since models are incapable of loving. Under normal circumstances, I would pursue someone I could have a longer fling with, but not this time. My type was nowhere to be found this evening.
"We're having a party for attendees later," I said. "Many people will be there; Wall Street investors, company executives, even a few celebrities."
She turned and looked at me with interest. "Oh?"
"I'm sure I can find you something that would draw other's attention," I said. "That is, if you want to come."
"Like what?" I opened a massive closet of outfits, highlighting which ones I thought would help her achieve the egocentric fantasy of her heart. She, of course, picked out her favorite - a delectable choice, I might add. And within hours, we were forty stories high in the air with eyes surrounding her.
Things went like I planned. As more eyes watched her, I could sense her power dissipate. There comes a point in every narcissistic woman that she feels immutable to anything and that's when she loses everything. I introduced her to more people - big names as well. She loved every minute of it. It was like endless options lining up to meet her and small wrinkles of joy lit her face.
Many evolutionary psychologists state that women are really looking for a life with endless options. If a man is just looking for some for an evening, presenting a woman with options works far better than alcohol. Men, it really is this easy.
A few hours later, we were back at her temporary place for the weekend show. Distracted by the stares of the evening, she released her straps and the outfit slid down. The gratuitous sex was a temporary fun, but I quickly left for a cigarette. She thought I would return with some for her, but I didn't. I like to leave in a hurry when things are done with models in wonder. You may consider this mean, but remember: these people never think of anyone else. That and irony is life.
I enjoyed my walk home; the darkness peering everywhere and office lights visible in every building. A few people stumbling through the streets with profane remarks or carefully walking with loving comments. Safety running around on every street and danger smirking in every corner. I love this city, yet I do not love its inhabitants.
© 2009 The Serial Monogamist. All rights reserved.
In general, I find narcissism a weakness in humans, but one I can easily exploit. I was in a sexual mood and she was away from her loved one. I should call him "one who loved her" since models are incapable of loving. Under normal circumstances, I would pursue someone I could have a longer fling with, but not this time. My type was nowhere to be found this evening.
"We're having a party for attendees later," I said. "Many people will be there; Wall Street investors, company executives, even a few celebrities."
She turned and looked at me with interest. "Oh?"
"I'm sure I can find you something that would draw other's attention," I said. "That is, if you want to come."
"Like what?" I opened a massive closet of outfits, highlighting which ones I thought would help her achieve the egocentric fantasy of her heart. She, of course, picked out her favorite - a delectable choice, I might add. And within hours, we were forty stories high in the air with eyes surrounding her.
Things went like I planned. As more eyes watched her, I could sense her power dissipate. There comes a point in every narcissistic woman that she feels immutable to anything and that's when she loses everything. I introduced her to more people - big names as well. She loved every minute of it. It was like endless options lining up to meet her and small wrinkles of joy lit her face.
Many evolutionary psychologists state that women are really looking for a life with endless options. If a man is just looking for some for an evening, presenting a woman with options works far better than alcohol. Men, it really is this easy.
A few hours later, we were back at her temporary place for the weekend show. Distracted by the stares of the evening, she released her straps and the outfit slid down. The gratuitous sex was a temporary fun, but I quickly left for a cigarette. She thought I would return with some for her, but I didn't. I like to leave in a hurry when things are done with models in wonder. You may consider this mean, but remember: these people never think of anyone else. That and irony is life.
I enjoyed my walk home; the darkness peering everywhere and office lights visible in every building. A few people stumbling through the streets with profane remarks or carefully walking with loving comments. Safety running around on every street and danger smirking in every corner. I love this city, yet I do not love its inhabitants.
© 2009 The Serial Monogamist. All rights reserved.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Putrid Pundits
I find irony in the little things of life. Media pundits love to declare against the moral ordure of the elite. There's envy in their voice, not moral outrage. Their eyes only watch the power of structures and vehicles, yet fail to see their own blessing. Do the viewers of these little men realize the paradoxical phrases that fall from their lips?
To be fair, I understand these claims instantiated against us, but there's a failure to differentiate. When green paper is thrown our way it is often at the will of those buying - something we are unable to help. The guilty ones - people who threw their life to find the right numbers in order to manipulate money - are well off for a far different reason.
"Dear woman, do you need this dress?" I find myself often asking with a hope she shies away from it.
"Yes," she replies. "My husband hasn't noticed me in two years. Do you have any idea what that's like?" Things are rarely as they seem. Perhaps the reason some people are in trouble is because they fear the loss of being desired. I help in the only way I can - a gentle hand on their shoulder with the words, "Well, he's a fool."
Maybe that will increase what she needs - the feeling of being wanted.
© 2009 The Serial Monogamist. All rights reserved.
To be fair, I understand these claims instantiated against us, but there's a failure to differentiate. When green paper is thrown our way it is often at the will of those buying - something we are unable to help. The guilty ones - people who threw their life to find the right numbers in order to manipulate money - are well off for a far different reason.
"Dear woman, do you need this dress?" I find myself often asking with a hope she shies away from it.
"Yes," she replies. "My husband hasn't noticed me in two years. Do you have any idea what that's like?" Things are rarely as they seem. Perhaps the reason some people are in trouble is because they fear the loss of being desired. I help in the only way I can - a gentle hand on their shoulder with the words, "Well, he's a fool."
Maybe that will increase what she needs - the feeling of being wanted.
© 2009 The Serial Monogamist. All rights reserved.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Shh! This Is Our Secret
I know what you want more than any man. I have watched privilege, dignity, and beauty confidently walk down and destroy the arrogance of the masculine. I spend my time finding colors, patterns, and arrangements to declare your beauty like the rhythm meets the harmony and melody. They fail to see such wonder - their hearts search for hidden treasures that you only hold.
Men. The fools they are these days: boasting about pretentious accomplishments. They are threatened by your success as if it emasculates their soul. But you are wise and refuse to accept the crass thinking of your ancestors. "Settle, Settle, Settle!" your mother cries; she wants her grandchildren. But I say, do not. A partner is a partner; not a doormat, not a silent lip, not a threatened kitten.
This leaves a difficult challenge for me, I'm afraid. You see, there are so many of you and only one of me. Is it your fault that these others lack a spine? Of course not. Is it your fault that these others lack sagacious dialogue? Of course not. Is it your fault that these others live in a fantasy controlled by a glowing screen? Of course not. And that is why you choose me - you want strong arms around you and eyes that declare it is only you.
I suppose you want some details? That is fair. I do have a long-term lover, I think. We speak on occasion and lie next to each other a few times a year. But, you see, she is as busy as I am and I'm afraid the separate continents fail at blocking our libidos. Obviously we agreed a few years ago to open things up a bit; it was as fair to her as it was to me - we are both egalitarians in the egalitarian age. Now, when I'm not watching beauty walk down a runway, I am embracing beauty - and a variety of beauty it is.
These are my stories. These are my journeys. These are my secrets. Keep these stories, journeys, and secrets for your pleasure and don't whisper a word. If you have further questions, shoot me an email - I might just answer.
© 2009 The Serial Monogamist. All rights reserved.
Men. The fools they are these days: boasting about pretentious accomplishments. They are threatened by your success as if it emasculates their soul. But you are wise and refuse to accept the crass thinking of your ancestors. "Settle, Settle, Settle!" your mother cries; she wants her grandchildren. But I say, do not. A partner is a partner; not a doormat, not a silent lip, not a threatened kitten.
This leaves a difficult challenge for me, I'm afraid. You see, there are so many of you and only one of me. Is it your fault that these others lack a spine? Of course not. Is it your fault that these others lack sagacious dialogue? Of course not. Is it your fault that these others live in a fantasy controlled by a glowing screen? Of course not. And that is why you choose me - you want strong arms around you and eyes that declare it is only you.
I suppose you want some details? That is fair. I do have a long-term lover, I think. We speak on occasion and lie next to each other a few times a year. But, you see, she is as busy as I am and I'm afraid the separate continents fail at blocking our libidos. Obviously we agreed a few years ago to open things up a bit; it was as fair to her as it was to me - we are both egalitarians in the egalitarian age. Now, when I'm not watching beauty walk down a runway, I am embracing beauty - and a variety of beauty it is.
These are my stories. These are my journeys. These are my secrets. Keep these stories, journeys, and secrets for your pleasure and don't whisper a word. If you have further questions, shoot me an email - I might just answer.
© 2009 The Serial Monogamist. All rights reserved.
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