Be slutty. But also innocent.
When I was younger man, I could touch a flower and get a boner. Ah, so sexy, so alive: you feisty plant you! Once I even remember touching a couch and feeling turned on just because it was so soft. As the days wear on me, and my hair begins to grey, my sexuality becomes more complex and nuanced. Sure, you can turn me on by rubbing your tits in my face and grinding against my cock, but that’s not lovemaking, that’s just a sensation and it doesn’t turn me on on. What I need my girlfriend to do is light a fire inside my groin, and to do that she needs to master the balance of Madonna/ Sodom in the bedroom. She has to give me something, then hold it back, and repeat until we both can’t take it anymore and we fold in each other.
Worship God. I find religious girls tend to be more subservient.
I’m sorry. I’m not sorry. I’m not gonna apologize, I’m a cocksman.
Handle things like a transaction.
I don’t believe there is a body and soul. I believe there is a biological body. This means there’s nothing transcendent about our love. You and me baby ain’t nothin’ but mammals: there’s no higher power governing our humanly affairs, except utility. We love each other because we find each other useful in some capacity. While just for the sake of being a good person, I’ll never do anything “evil” (like murder your cat ) – I don’t want you to guilt trip me into any unconditional love crap. Love is conditional, everything has conditions and my condition is that we give each other an equal value exchange. Fair enough?
Live a normal life.
I live a weird life. Let’s just say my family is freaky and all mentally messed up, and I travel so much for my job that it’s hard for me to even have a home. So I like my girlfriends to offer some kind of stability in my life. To bring me to birthday parties, or like celebrate holidays like Christmas, or enforce some kind of social norm upon my chaotic and distributed existence. “Hey, Jimmy, stop trying to cook that tree bark and let’s goto Happy Hour.” Or “Do you really want to spend this New Year smoking cigarettes alone with your imaginary friends, or do you want to hit up the clubs with your beautiful girlfriend and her favorite gals from college!”
Understand this is all just accidental.
In the words of a smarter man than me, Charles Bukowski writes, “How can you say you love one person when there are ten thousand people in the world that you would love more if you ever met them? But you’ll never meet them. All right, so we do the best we can. Granted. But we must still realize that love is just the result of a chance encounter.”