When Women Say Men are Disgusting, This is What They’re Talking About
Here it is, further proof that there is a direct line to my brain and that there are people making movies, TV, and comics based on what they find in my head; someone has filmed and will soon release a food truck porn movie.
Now, I’ve never had that exact idea, but were I to map out my brain, food and porn would be close. If not next door, certainly in the same neighborhood.
Here’s the thing, now that it’s been combined, I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t pass by a food truck without imagining the litany of health codes that were shattered by lust . I’m not alone. I’m sure this is happening to innocent street food patrons all over Los Angeles.
The worst part is that this was happening before. This exists because the market for it does. Some guys are waiting in line for southern-style sliders and jerk chicken burritos and can’t spend that eight to twelve minutes not imagining doing someone from behind over the fry-a-lator.
When stuff like this happens, gentlemen, we all suffer. There’s no reason this should exist. Of all the professions to make sexy this has to be somewhere near the bottom. This is normally where I’d list things that are just as unsexy, but then they’d make a porn about beekeepers and people who work at the factories that make the sawdust you use to sop up vomit.
Ah, damn it. Right now, someone’s having a train run on them while they’re covered in pollen, aren’t they?
Here’s my point: men, we’re disgusting. You know it. I know it. Women know it. We all act like we don’t know it, and we do this for a very noble reason. So society does not crumble.
We all act like we’re all very normal, chemically balanced people that have no secret kinks, fetishes, or subscriptions to gang-bang stump-fuck sites. We do this because there are we expected to go places, work hard, and accomplish things.
You will get on a plane and fly to your destination because it’s flown by a well-trained pilot. You will not get on a plane flown by a sex villain who has way too many Selena Gomez calendars for a single man with no nieces, nephews, or friends with young children.
You will be less excited to see a police officer if you know that he manually brought himself to orgasm before his shift started by imagining Asian school girls lightly whipping black men with giant dildos.
This is why we all act like we’re not perverts, and more importantly we act like we don’t know that everyone else around us is just as sick. It’s how we put out fires. It’s how we educate the next generation. It puts planes in the skies and makes the trains run on time.
Movies like this just keep us edging closer and closer to that line where we can’t wish our horrible appetites away. You can’t hop on down to the Miracle Mile anymore and get some tacos or a curbside banh mi, because every guy behind you is going to be looking at photos from the Flying Pig shoot or watching the trailers on their smartphones. Is everyone drooling because of the smell of food or because they’re trying to will their half chub to full glory?
We’ve lost some ground, guys. The darkness that lives within all of us has established a beachhead and the worst part is, thanks to the internet, our environment, nay, our own collective sanity is acclimating to the new status and creating a hellish new way of life.
This means that in order to get our dirty, illicit thrills we’re going to have to find sicker and sicker shit. The internet will respond in kind and keep churning out more and more filth, drawing us deeper into the darkness within ourselves, and closing us off from the outside world and all personal relationships.
The great thing about the internet is that it gives everyone a voice. The bad thing about the internet is that it gives everyone a voice because everyone is a pervert. It’s an unstoppable porn engine that occasionally gives us a funny video of someone falling down or a puppy trying to fall asleep, but most of the time: tireless fuck maker.
Then when every kink is created, every appetite sated, and we’re all no longer speaking to the sick bastards next door; that’s when SkyNet strikes.
Resist, humanity. Resist.
No Fate But What We Make.