What dressing was on my salad?

At a dinner party(yeah I know Im sorry, I'm and asshole), pornography became the rich subject of the evening.  Is pornography able to be infiltrated with sensual art, or is the reason it exists is that it provides instantanious gratification with no reason to become anything else?  And also, are these images enough for the common man to sustain, or are there ways to explore other ways of personal gratification and sensuality?

My answer is that men want to see vag and then explode into a hanky.  Thats it.  That is really it.  No emotion, no sensuality.  Sensuality happens with human contact.  If it is by yourself, it is a bit sad.  No candles should be lit, no oils topically placed.  A narrative film should not be watched with the sole purpose of enhancing arousal simply due to a gratuitous sex scene.  Most men, when masturbating, don't think about complex ideas of love or emotion.  Look at the vag and breasts of hot women on the information super highway, blow the load, then back to the real world.  This is not by any means an indication of the extent of their ability to be romantic, sensual or loving.  It is a fantasy.  A PERSONAL fantasy.  It's a case of, "I want her so bad, but I could never have her.  She'll be in my thoughts though."  Fantastic blog by the way.

A Guy Named Art

Stepping out of my apartment in a sweater made me laugh, especially since that was the only thing I was wearing. I might as well have felt that way when I arrived in Chelsea(the neighborhood of Chelsea that is for all you non New Yorkers).  We had arrived.   Our slow self aware steps brought us to a sleek room.  It smelled like new car and cocaine.  It was the kind of gallery in which you didn't know what was the art.  It looked and had the same symptoms of a club.  I tried to dance to fit in but my moves were those only for a Latin inspired room, so I trekked on.  We found(we searched) ourselves at the drink table and we each ordered two alcoholic beverages. Immediately I felt rejuvanated (I actually had gas and decided to fart). We clasped our beverages and tried to find the least trafficked place as we were looking for a friend of ours.  After finding her, we realized that we were on the wrong floor and wrong gallery.  We laughed at the free drinks of the old gallery and threw them at the Martha psychiatrists and Gregrory MD's of old! On we were to the 3rd floor!  

So I hate rich people.  I guess not all, but I hated the ones at the gallery.  I'm sorry to reveal this to my agent. I know you are rich and all,  and I even saw you there at the show and hugged you and your wife, but I hate the way you comb your hair with $50 worth of honey infused hair gel.  It's gross, and you have ants crawling down your forehead.

The night went well anyway.  We saw many prints of famous artists and graffiti artists.  All pieces going for at least $1,000(that's it?).

I was impressed for the most part.  Good work as a whole obviously.  Basquiat, Warhol, Banksy, etc.  Free liquor, beer, cheesy fish.  You couldn't ask for anything more.  Except standing there, surrounded by multi-millionaires in a state of slight drunken fervor made me want to yell out to everyone that all of these pieces could be done at home for under $10 dollars at Wal-Mart, yet they are being being sold for $5,000.  That was when I realized that anyone can do these things.  But it takes the imagination and intelligence to make it come to fruition.  Anyone can make you laugh.  But would you pay $50 dollars to see a friend or average Joe to make you laugh?  No.  But you would pay that much to watch Chris Rock, or Dave Chappelle, or even Bill Cosby(no reason as to why they are all black) make you laugh.  I would.  And why?  The same reason these people are paying thousand of dollars for these art pieces.  It's a craft.  And honest craft.  It takes hard hours of honest work.  It's refreshing that things such as this still exist.  I hope people understand.  And I hope people understand that we aren't crazy.