Women, hate us or love us, this is the truth. This is honesty in it's purest form. This is evolution, biology, reproductive strategies, testicular thinking in it's crudest, most subconscious, Alligator mind form as you will ever get.
The sweet guy that you claim you love will never admit the truth. Assholes like myself will . . . and here it is:
The thoughts of the male mind during an average day:
"I wonder if she'd wake up if I just started fucking her?
She'd probably be pissed. But would I get off before she woke up enough to be pissed? Nah, I'd probably pay for it later. God, she's got nice tits. Man, I could eat that ass up. Maybe I should lick her feet. Shit! I gotta get ready for work!
Jesus Christ! I hate oatmeal. Fucking bland tasteless nothing. I'm fat. I should probably start doing some weights. Fuck that. I'm a god! She loves my belly. Maybe I could skip a shower? Nah, probably should shower. There's a couple of cute girls at work, not to mention the checkout girl. I could get her. I wonder if I need to stop at Wal-mart. Why couldn't I be fucking a redhead? I wonder if she'd get too way pissed off if I went and fucked her breasts and came all over her face. She'd probably wake up.
Godammit! I hate getting up before the Sun. I should grab a bottle of wine, wake her up, make her watch the Sunrise with me, then fuck on the back porch, then go back to sleep. I wonder if she'd make me the perfect BLT. Fucking perfect world maybe.
Fucking Lexus cut me off! The bast-- . . . wait, it's a bitch. Fucking bitc--fuck it! She's cute. Too rich for me though. Could I fuck a girl long term that made more than me? It'd be weird if she wanted to pay for everything because I didn't have shit. Fuck it! Being a kept man would be pretty cool--pretty cool--fuck it! I couldn't do it!
I really want to pull her hair when I fuck her. I wonder if she'd let me fuck her up against a wall, wrap her legs around me. Jesus, she's wearing a lot of makeup. What the fuck?! Don't wanna fuck a rodeo clown!
Damn, Deb is hot! I should call in, flirt with her, tell her I love her show. Maybe I could meet her in a club and talk about how she's British and how I've been there. I wonder what the radio show intern girl looks like. Is she really hot? I can't believe Deb has brown hair. I was thinking blond.
Fuck it! What else is on? I need some music. Fuck! Almost missed my exit. Do I have time? Yeah, a little late, but I should get there. I should call her. Should I call her? She's probably on the road. I should call her and say "hey". She'd love that, but fuck it. I've gotta get to work. What would I do without her? Well, honestly, I'd find someone else to fuck, but she's pretty great. Fucking cracks me up. I . . . maybe . . . do I love he--
Damn, look at this bitch! God, what an ass! But she's black. Could I fuck a black chick? I don't know. Fucking exotic. I should find an Asian chick to fuck.
Shit. People. Gotta deal with people. Smile. Say hi. Smile. How ya doin' today? Ha ha. Funny. Stupid fuck. God what an ass--hey, how ya doing? I would so fuck those breasts, except the rest of her is a little fat. Goddamn, that face though. I could fuck that face to kingdom--
Statistics. Reports. Excel. Data. Discussion. Number. Tact. People. Employees, I'd fuck that. I'd fuck that, too. I need a real girlfriend, not the bullshit I've been playing around wi--data, numbers, math, microsoftmicrosoftmicrosoftmicrosoft
microsoftmicrosoftmicrosoftmicrosoft, fucking Bill Gates, microsoftmicrosoftmicrosoftmicrosoft, what the fuck's up with the mosquitoes, sorry about your loss. Man, fucking death. I can't believe I'm fucking forty. Mother fuck--I'd fuck her. Cute, but kind of mannish. I'd fuck that. She's kind of chubby, but maybe if I was drunk.
What. A. Fucking. Day.
I'm tired as shit. I should get a burger or a fucking pizza or some fucking ice cream of maybe I should get loaded. I wonder what escorts really charge. I wonder how much a high class escort really costs. I wonder what they smell like. Do they smell like the last guy they were with or do they clean up and smell really pretty and nice and fuckable. God, I would so love to fuck a model or maybe a supermodel, like in her twenties. Twenty-five. Could I get a twenty-five year old? Maybe, if I didn't want to pay my mortgage for the next three fucking months and could fucking lie and sweep her off her feet. I wonder if I should buy a suit?
God, she kisses good. Jesus, she smells like fucking heaven. I want to fuck her in the foyer. No, fuck that, on those don't-use-because-they're-fucking-decorative cushions. Prop her ass up and dig in tight. What the fuck? Are you actually bending over in front of me?! Are you fucking serious? Oh, I am so totally fucking the daylights out of you ton--get together with friends? Fuck that. Shit. Really? Why the fuck do I promise anything ever? This sucks. Oh, right, because I want to fuck her. I'd promise to launch myself into the fucking Sun if she hinted at opening her thighs. All this bullshit about the glass ceiling and women. They've got all the power. Man, if I had tits like that I'd be such a fucking slut. She should be sluttier . . . but only with me. I wonder if she'd kiss another girl on videotape for me, but only want to fuck me, but invite another girl, a hot friend, to fuck me, too . . . on video.
Goddamit, I'm fucking tired. Fuck it. I'm taking a nap. Of course. Of fucking course. She wants me to go down on her now?!? I'm half a-fucking asleep. A long boring party, a shitload of beer, a hostess with cleavage that i wanted to dive in, and now that she's half drunk, she wants to fuck, and all I want is to go to slepzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz."
Aaron Diaz Hoal