To the BATMOBILE

Sunday, August 21, 2005

regarding sex (and life, where applicable)

Ladies, fear not - for what I shall be discussing today (in this journal which seems to be slowly, yet surely, drifting away from the whole superhero-saves-the-day theme, as I journey through puberty, and my ramblings get that little bit more decipherable) shall not be the base desire of every guy I know, but sex as in gender.

More specifically so, the traits and characteristics of the male gender (a deeply controversial topic that I am sure would leave many of you in open-mouth wonder, or in seething hatred and having the carnal desire to plunge a steak-knife between my shoulder blades after crudely circumcising me with a pair of pliers. Exciting, is it not?).

Please appreciate this, for I am wasting valuable time which I could be using to study for my Social Studies and/or Chemistry test tomorrow. Though it does seem to be a greater waste of time taking the bloody tests in the first place, knowing fully that I'd probably get higher marks by getting zero than what I'd normally get anyway. The essay, to be done after school, included.
I could however, offer pitifully pathetic excuses such as "I was feeling depressed, and needed to amuse myself by making myself look like a fool to others, thus deriving sick, twisted and masochistic pleasure by embarrasing myself." However, I had rather not. Who knows how such confessions may come back to haunt me?

Males - the part of the human race that kept top scientists confounded for so long, and kept them wondering which species evolved into which. We now know for certain however, that that apes so clearly evolved from the male population (and butch girls who do not shave), especially if you have spent similar amounts of time that I have done, studying each member of my class in great detail, one horrific characteristic at a time.

From multiple Chinamen who spit every living breathing moment of their lives, to that sexy guy in my class who could never get a math question correct (yours truly), and that Scottish bastard... All them Scottish bastards anyway, (I have never liked the Scots. On of my many great failings) I now truly understand why girls never seem particularly interested in any guy. Well, not just any guy - Me.

Me. Anybody who knows me well enough would realise that the topic was going to narrow down to me sooner or later. After spending most of the whole day wallowing in a puddle of tears, blood, vomit, and extreme amounts of self-pity (Oh - do not cringe, this is mostly an exaggeration. Mostly, anyway), and taking sneaky glimpses at the oh-so-inviting window, I decided to occupy my otherwise suicidal thoughts by writing nonsense. Hence this journal entry. Thank god us superheroes are a notoriously hard-to-kill bunch.

One observation I would like to make though, would be how every guy I know seems to put lyrics with references to sex/love/girlfriends (myself included with the occasional quote from System of a Downs "Violent Pornography" or Killer Mike's "A.D.I.D.A.S. - All day I dream about sex". But come on - they're cool songs!) in bid to attract members of the opposite sex. Unfortunately enough, in theirs, as well as my case, nothing ever seems to result from it. Maybe it is just the wrong song. Naaah - couldn't be.

Another hour of deep soul-searching, and finding absolutely nothing but more questions (and a hell lot of self-pity) has gone by, and I find myself none the wiser (especially after blowing an hours worth of study-time. Butlerman you stupid fool, you.)

To the person who takes notice of the suicidal intentions so carefully hidden within this blog (deceitful, am I not?), take heart from the fact my window has a grill on it. You would be better off writing my essay for me or helping me cheat for the tests tomorrow.

TO THE BATMOBILE

posted by butler at 7:51 pm
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