Tuesday November 15, 2005
	American female suicide bombers?
	"How come we ain't seeing any American female suicide bombers?" says the woman I'm laying alongside.  We just cranked the shit out of one another inside an old cardboard refrigerator box lying behind a Kmart and now we're enjoying the aftershocks of our intense pounding session.    "I've got a few theories on that subject," I say then lighting my pipe.  While I'm inhaling she is finding an appropriate song (Feuer Frei by Rammstein) on her iPod then attaching the Griffin portable speaker. "I adore your theories, sugar," she says then pressing her lips onto mine.  When she's done pressing her lips onto mine I say: "The average cost of a facelift for a woman in America is about nine thousand bucks." "Nine thousand dollars, honey?" she says then adjusting one of the cardboard flaps that is open and letting in mosquitoes.  "Nine thousand dollars is a lot of money baby." I say: "When I'm speaking don't interrupt me.  My words are like a vein of gold that I'm aggressively mining and when you interrupt me the vein dries up and then I'm just gonna be lying in this box with my used-up dick lying out." "Sorry baby," she says then moving the hair from my face.    I say: "Nine thousand dollars for a facelift and another six thousand for a breast enlargement."   "Breast augmentation," she says.  Other than the glowing embers from the bowl of my lit pipe it's dark inside the refrigerator box and when she says breast augmentation she lights a lighter and when the flame is at its maximum height I can see that she has relocated her female head to just above my prick. I say:   "Few (if any) American women are gonna blow up their six, seven thousand dollar tits 'cause they ain't happy with The Man.  American women have their tits enlarged because/for The Man." "They wanna feel better about themselves," says my boxmate then lowering her head. "Uh huh," I say. "Mmm," she says. "What's wrong with a flat woman?" I say.  Flat women are just as good (maybe even better) than full chested ones.  When you're drunk and making love it's oftentimes hard to tell who the man is or who the woman is and that can be fun," I say. She says: "Sure, baby." I am reigniting the tobacco in the bowl of my pipe and after a few drags I say:  "It's highly unlikely that an American woman will voluntarily atomize their face and breasts for a cause.  Their face and tits are their cause." My boxmate raises her head and says: "There should be a statue of you somewhere." "Finish up," I say then taking another drag off my pipe.  PREVIOUS   HOME   NEXT