I usually don’t like to show you photos of my actual home here in Crazeysburg, on the legendary Wakatamika Creek (pictured above), because I don’t want you guys to get jealous!!
However, I do live rather luxuriously here, with my boat dock right in my house, at the bottom of the stairs — and of course, my prized AI male sex robot to keep me company on the couch…
Seriously, though — don’t you just love that picture? Someone’s idea of the future? And yet it contains completely outdated technology. Plus, you really, really gotta love somebody to want to live so remotely — and so alone — with them, right? And it looks really spacious, but it’s all sort of just one room, when you study it closely.
I have yet to love somebody that much that I wouldn’t want to have at least one wall between me and him or her.
You know — I’ve actually been seriously contemplating the perks of owning a male AI sex robot. I’m at least investigating that thought. Not for the sex, just the company. I’ve lived alone now for 4 years (well, alone with anywhere from 11 to 7 cats). But it’s been nine years since I actually lived with somebody I was romantically inclined toward (wow, that “love” word just really doesn’t want to put in too many appearances in my life, does it?).
Anyway, it’s been 9 years since I awoke, daily, with somebody in the bed next to me. And I’ve been thinking how, well — maybe it would be cool to have a male sex robot to at least occupy space in the bed, you know? Just lay there, and just be like somebody who’s in the bed. You don’t have to do anything. The more I thought about having that additional “presence” there, the more appealing it seemed.
However, they only make, like, 2 different models of AI male sex robots and they’re really young looking, and they don’t look anything like what I’m normally attracted to in real life. The fact that they cost more than my house has nothing to do with my reluctance; it’s strictly the way they look…
I mean, I do kind of like the hippie-biker-trucker type quasi-surfer looking robot (he’s brunette, too!!), but I’m creeped out by the fact that he looks about 17. If they made a hippie-biker-trucker type quasi-surfer looking brunette male sex robot who looked about 60, I might start looking into a second mortgage on my house. But, I guess, until then…
Well, yesterday was fun. I accidentally unsubscribed myself from Nick Cave’s Red Hand Files email thingy. I think I signed back up, but when I tried to re-subscribe through his site, it seemed to think I was already subscribed and wanted to know what my fucking weird American problem was — (my words) — so I think it’s my actual Yahoo account that thinks I’m unsubscribed.
I was really quickly cleaning out my inbox yesterday on my iPhone (have you noticed how fast you can delete emails now on the iPhone???) and when it asked me if I wanted to unsubscribe to “Nick Cave”, I clicked “yes” before I had a chance to not click “yes.” Really — it just came at me so fast. I mean, God forbid they ask me if I want to unsubscribe from those weird SnapChick emails from extremely creepy young women who want to have sex…
So, I tried to fix the mistake through my inbox, although I’m not sure if I did.
But it feels like it’s been forever since he sent out a Red Hand Files thingy (that could be my skewed perception, I’m not sure), so I keep checking, checking, checking — both at Yahoo and at the RHF site — to make sure I’m still getting the updates because I don’t want to miss out on my reason for living!!!
Other interesting things I did yesterday — got some good work done on Letter #8 for Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse. I was at it until about 8 o’clock last night. And it’s strange because I feel like I know what I want to say, or to write about, but it keeps coming out weirdly — the words seem to keep changing their minds about how they want to be arranged on the page. And then it will suddenly seem like I’m taking forever to say one simple thing.
I don’t feel bad about it, because it’s progress, but I do find it really perplexing that it isn’t just finding its rhythm and then finding the page. This Letter #8 has been wanting to come out for quite a number of days already. I guess I’ll just stick with it until it tells me where it really wants to go.
Well, I won’t say too much more about this other topic, but it just disgusts me so much: more conversations with colleagues in NY — both black colleagues and white colleagues — who are saying that white anarchists were behind the protests there getting so violent. (First, piles of bricks being at the meet-up sites before the peaceful protestors even arrived, and now the discovery of stacks of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream containers left behind at the protest sites — the kinds of ice cream containers with the lids — only they’re filled with concrete.)
You know, where are the white anarchists now? Now that all the damage has been done, and people have children (of color) at home, afraid to leave the apartment because so many New Yorkers are enraged by all the damage the “black protestors” caused? It just makes me so sick — as if the actual real problem of inequality wasn’t bad enough. Taking all your hate and anarchy shit and dumping it in the laps of people with real problems, who didn’t ask for it. (And of course, Trump out there being mocked and ridiculed for saying that terrorists were behind the riots getting so violent and now he’s once again proved right… you know? Hello.)
Well, okay. On that note, I will cease and desist because, God knows, my soapboxes can get pretty long and drawn out.
I hope you have a happy and productive Friday, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting, gang. I leave you with something else that was wonderful from my wee bonny 1984 girlhood!! The Screaming Blue Messiahs!! Anything off of their album Gun Shy is incredible, gang — but today I specifically leave you with “Someone To Talk To” (an AI sex robot perhaps??? You decide!!) Okay! I love you guys! See ya!
[PS: Sorry, lyrics are not available… But listen anyway, these guys do not disappoint!!]