Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Whenever I take these photos I have no idea what I'm going to ultimately write about them. Sometimes I sit down and plan these posts out. But more often than not, I just fucking wing these things with random thoughts. The idea of me wanting to fuck me is just about as random of a thought as I can think of.
So let's get to it.
If you could fuck yourself would you?
As a heterosexual male, this is a weird question to me.
First, if I did decide to fuck myself, does this suddenly mean I'm no long a heterosexual? Or am I fucking myself because I'm on my own "switch list"? Or is this an exception?
If you're really narcissistic, you could be really into yourself. Maybe you come home one day and there's this other you in your house. He's made you a brick oven pizza, poured you a La Fin Du Monde, has Sportscenter on in the background and the Beastie Boys blaring. He sits you down. Tells you how nice your calves look in running shorts. Says, "Wow, you look really tired from mowing the lawn. Maybe you should just go lie down."
Next thing you know, there's chaffing, askew sheets and the sounds of a Cubs bottom of the 9th, 2 out, homerun being called by Harry Carey buzzing in the air.
If you're self-loathing, you fucking you is probably the worst idea. You come home, there's another you in your house. He's made you brussel sprouts, poured you a Corona, has "Say Yes to the Dress" on blaring loudly overtop of Fiona Apple's devil-monkey screeching. He sits you down, says you're a failure and need to lose weight. Says your car is a piece of shit and punches you right in the dick.
Next thing you know, there's chaffing, bleeding, a ball gag and a Sam Kinison machine gun fire of insults being flung at you.
Other things factor into this equation.
Is this a one night stand? Do you have to rollover and look at yourself in the eye the next morning? If there's a walk of shame where does the other "you" walk to?
Do you want a long term relationship with "you"? I mean sure you get to share your closet. You'll save money on buying music from Amazon. But everyday, you have to come home to yourself.
Is this what having a twin is like?