My grandfather is an asshole. First of all, he died. That was a dick move.

I mean, what kind of selfish bullshit is that? He could have waited a few more days. Or a month. Or a year. He could have at least waited until I got married, and had kids and all that shit.

Okay, here’s what he could have done: he waits just until I have children, and they graduate from college, and get married and have kids. He and I buy a small house in South Florida. We get along alright, but sometimes we argue about whether we should keep orange juice or grapefruit juice stocked in the fridge. It’s no big deal. Slowly we grow older together. We watch black and white films and play old records, which we can barely hear.

One day we go out on a fishing trip. We get disoriented in a heavy fog and begin boating in circles. We lose all hope of finding the shore, and cling to each other in fear. We tell each other deep secrets: women we loved, family members we always hated, which girly songs we liked but told everyone we didn’t. We realize the ridiculousness of the situation and begin to laugh, coming to terms with our own mortality. Just then we’re swallowed by a giant whale, like the one from Pinocchio. We are never seen again.

I mean, that’s the way I want to go. Why wouldn’t he want that for us?

Last week, I was watching a piece of pornography in which a beautiful young lady was engaged in sexual congress with several men. As a quick aside, I’d like to point out that no less than three races were featured in this video; that has nothing to do with my story, but it’s just really refreshing to see that kind of diversity. Come to think of it, pornography has always been light years ahead of the rest of cinema when it comes to giving different races equal screen time. 
 
But what I really want to talk about is something the young lady said toward the end of the video -  I know, I know, who makes it all the way to end of porn? I mean, does porn even have closing credits? If it does, then I would file that phenomenon under ‘tree falls in the woods with no one there to hear it.’ So, when one of the men was ready to climax, he pulled out, as climaxing men are wont to do, and began to ejaculate on his shared partner with much fervor. The young lady, no doubt a seasoned professional, anticipated his intent, and microseconds before he let slip the dogs of love, she heartily exclaimed, “Ohhh fuck yeah! Gimme all that cum! Cum all over me. Feed me that cum, feed me that cum, feed me that fucking cum. Cum all over me! Yeah.” I assure you that quote is accurate, down to my use of punctuation.
 
Now, this is something I’ve seen dozens, okay hundreds, of times before, and usually, her “Yeah” would have immediately been followed with my own enthusiastic “Yeah!” as I heroically finished my business with one foot firmly planted on my desk and one hand triumphantly pointing up to the gods. But not this time. No, this time I was struck with a thought that is simultaneously ridiculous and so logical that it requires, nay demands, critical analysis. I stood there, frozen, thinking to myself, “Why on earth does she want all this cum?” And trust me when I say there was A LOT of it. There was something like four or five dudes there who, from the looks of it, all had a healthy breakfast. So I certainly couldn’t attribute her insatiable appetite to the threat of some kind of cum-shortage. And I know that she was aware of her potential supply as she’d already displayed her command of arithmetic when she referred to the number of penises (more than one) that were at one point inside of her.

So then what was it? What fueled her desire for all this cum? I mean, it is just semen we’re talking about, right? Am I missing something here? Because I’ve dealt with my fair share of it before, and I can safely say that it inspires very little in the way of awe and wonder. And the way she said, “Gimme all that cum” just smacked of intent. Honestly, what did she think she was going to do with “all that cum?” Invest it in the futures market? Use it to build a ship in anticipation of the upcoming apocalypse? Its only real use didn’t really apply considering the chosen form of transport. I suppose I got my answer when she started rubbing what I guess you could now call “her semen” all over her breasts and stomach. Okay, well that’s cool I guess, but I’d go ahead and keep her inside if she thinks that’s going to make a suitable substitute for sunscreen. 

Once I realized that was all she was going to do, I must admit feeling a bit let down. And what was all this “feed me that cum” nonsense? Her mouth came nowhere near it! But even if she finished every drop, would I really have been that satisfied? What’s the motivation there? Was she hungry? There was nothing in the narrative to suggest that. Well, then was she just dining for taste? This I would find difficult to believe. While I’ll admit semen isn’t the worst tasting thing in the world, I can’t really see it becoming the next cupcake or anything. But, then again, people really seem to love cilantro despite my claims that it tastes like feet. Oh, before I move on, I’d just like to quickly address the gentlemen in the picture. Guys, maybe instead of just feeding her your cum, it wouldn’t kill you to help her make her own. You know, give a man a fish and all that.

After putting in all of this thought, I realized that I really wasn’t making much progress. It was at this point that I started to think of the young lady as an actress, and not as the character she was portraying. I thought, “Well, perhaps her motivation came from her direction.” I suppose it’s perfectly reasonable that she was told to demand the cum. I imagined a snippet of unused film in which you can hear her yelling, “Line!” to which the director responded with that thunderous plea for jizzum. But this would imply the line serves some purpose. Considering that the main purpose of porn is to cater to men’s desire, it occurred to me that someone, the director in particular, thought that it was something men wanted to hear. I thought about that for what I would call a considerable amount of time. Do I really want to cover women in my semen? More importantly, do I want women to want me to cover them in my semen? I know evolution tells me that I should want to spread my seed, but I never took it that literally. Should I be going out under the shadow of the night and depositing batches of hot semen on park benches and fire hydrants? Maybe this is what Batman was really trying to do before he kept getting interrupted by crime.

Is the idea that I should be so desirable that women just fucking need my seed? I don’t know, that sounds a little greedy. I mean, most of the time I’m just looking for someone to see a movie with. Or maybe it’s not me per se, but my sperm specifically. Like, yeah sure, I might not be much to look at, but just rub a little bit of my nasty on your stomach and you’ll be making babies in no time! 

So there I was, in the midst of a stormy sea of conflicted thoughts in my head and what was by now a doughy, misshapen mass in my hand. I guess there’s a certain suspension of disbelief that’s needed when watching any film, but there was something that kept me from making that leap of faith. Was it shitty writing? Maybe she kept flubbing the real line and that was the best take? Did I just misread the whole damn thing? I should probably go watch it again.

My brain is an idiot. Not a normal idiot, but the idiot that other idiots make fun of, in their own simple way. My brain will often unabashedly tell me things that no person would ever tell a friend for fear of ridicule.

A couple of days ago I was at a K-Mart and I saw a young woman in a wheel chair. My brain said to me,

I want one! That looks fun.

To which I replied,

Brain, you are a stupid piece of shit.

Sometimes my brain believes that it has discovered things: new facts about the universe. It might come up with formulas relating things, like

Peanut butter sandwich - Peanut butter = Bread

or

Black person + White person != Mexican person

I know that already, brain. You don’t have to tell me.

Other times my brain will ask me questions.

Where does your fart go when it stops smelling?

What do you have to have sex with to have a monkey baby?

Why do you have to keep your penis hidden at work?

Even the smallest child would know the answer to these things. Even a half-retarded chimpanzee that has been purposefully trained backwards in all matters could deduce the answer to these problems.

I wish my brain would stop making such stupid comments to me. Think before you speak, brain. Get some self-respect, for God’s sake. There are plenty of other organs competing for my attention that aren’t so full of shit. Including intestines.