Last night Meredith and i sat squished together on the long arm of a bar sofa talking about sex coloumists in periodicals. i was doing most of the ranting. induced i am certain, by a heavy handed drink so kindly poured for me by a barmaid in a becoming, black evening gown.
i was getting a bit excited talking about how writer, turned author, Grant Stoddard had made a niche for himself by having sex in the name of science.
I think his thing goes like, " I did it for science." Mr.Stoddards "style" has surface appeal, in the way disecting frogs does. (You find yourself morbidly fascinated, while keeping your cool because you have a hypothesis to defend. ) But underneath this, Mr. Stoddard is selling his cock for fame.
Apparently, this Grant Stoddard fellow came to America as a virgin in the persuit of love, and is now enjoying the first wave of sucess as a sex coloumist... I almost said first blush of sucess, but i feel that Mr. Stodderd is beyond blushing at this point.
He reminds me a bit of Jonathan Ames, a New York author, who also addresses sexual issues and "perversions".
They both come from this educated, kinda WASPY ( tho Ames is Jewish)
-Gee, how did I end up HERE ? - perspective. Like Ames just kinda follows himself into transexual bars rooted in the belief that he is attracted to transexuals because his testicals dropped at a late age, thus leaving him in a pergatory of maturity, hinging him to the transexual internal dillema for life.
Stodderd is having fun writing about sex, in quasi coy, hipster fashion.
I can't go on about this really. I think I am jealous.
Mr.Stoddard in his underpants
Mr. Ames in his underpants
IF this were a very important election, which one would you vote for?
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