Art is hard

E-word,

For some reason, on my way to work I started thinking about these strip clubs I went to before I got married. Oh, wait a second, before I go on...

In response to your being out of the loop and middle aged, this is something I've been thinking about as well. Personally I think it's kind of lame to be in the loop past a certain age. Maybe lame is not the word, but don't you have something better to do than be up on the newest, hippest bands? I mean, come on, when you're in your twenties it's almost compulsory, but when you get into your thirties, raving about 'Clap your hands say yeah' or 'TV on the Radio' or whatever new band is out there makes me pretty much say grow the fuck up. Fill your mind with something else, anything else, please.

Again, I'm not saying that I don't listen to any new music (I started listening to and really liking gillian welch and iron and wine in my thirties, and also I will still buy the latest Stereolab and Beth Orton releases), but to be up on all the new bands and music is a little (I'll say it) lame.

I also work out pretty regularly in the gym, and though it's a touch embarrassing, it's one of those necessary evils, I think. Heh, it's particularly lame when I'm listening to Fugazi while working away at the elliptical machine. I'm so hard, yet so soft because you know I'm getting older and my knees are getting a rickety but I rock the Fugazi, yeah!

Anyway, getting back to strippers. I've been to a couple of those kind of hardcore strip clubs where you grab tit and ass and if the girl is really out of her mind, her punani too. This one ghetto club I went to once with some friends was a full service gropefest all for 5 bucks. Shit was crazy. It's like, your job is to let guys squeeze your tits and nipples and try to slip fingers into your punani, while you're grinding your crotch away, but at the same time you're a girl, who after being paid to get groped is cheery and bubbly and whispers in your ear, 'Let's do that again'.

For me it was almost no different from pulling the wings off of a fly. I squeezed titties with the same disengaged disinterest I had while watching a fly with no wings try to escape. It's not erotic for me at all. I mean, zip, nothing. I found myself more interested in the feel of sweaty skin and the smell of body powder and perfume, and the fact that all this humanity (from the stripper and her previous clients) is now all over my hands and clothing.

As I was driving to work with all these thoughts, it just occurred to me how sad it all is, the whole business of strippers and people who grope strippers. I guess there are a ton of justifications people can use, but there is a certain amount of unhappiness related to the whole thing. I dunno. I'd have to think about it some more to give my analysis more depth.

It's pouring outside. While you're waiting for snow, I think we're literally having a thunderstorm today. Crazy weather.