The sight of a woman exposing herself is commercial exploitation. I can't look at a girl showing her bra without thinking of a Sears catalog. I can't think of a woman showing her body without thinking of a Martin Lawrence movie. Just like I can't hear rap music without thinking of Tyson chicken or Volkswagen or MTV- it's all a bunch of commercial horseshit. Marketing has ruined the unchecked female form for me. Which is confusing because I'm definitely not gay. I see a naked woman and my heart starts racing- like I'm being challenged, like I'm being controlled.
I saw a burlesque show with all of this feeling tonight at the Fenix Underground, with one exception- a woman that did a bang-up job of acting like a wind-up toy. Her affected lack of 'humanity' was a huge turn-on, and I realized that a woman's mock-up in woman's form is really what gets my fuel burning. A woman garbed in the ultimate fucked-uppery.
And I thought of Manko. God bless you Manko, do you hear me? God bless your beautiful unabashed fucked-up self, covered in lipstick and gore.
I saw a burlesque show with all of this feeling tonight at the Fenix Underground, with one exception- a woman that did a bang-up job of acting like a wind-up toy. Her affected lack of 'humanity' was a huge turn-on, and I realized that a woman's mock-up in woman's form is really what gets my fuel burning. A woman garbed in the ultimate fucked-uppery.
And I thought of Manko. God bless you Manko, do you hear me? God bless your beautiful unabashed fucked-up self, covered in lipstick and gore.
I'm delighted to get a mention in such lovely context. I might borrow a few ripe lines for my profile actually.
Cheers, o friendly train conductor!
Mxxx