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And so. Squalid? Yes. Sordid? Yes. Sublime? Yes. Dangerous? Nah.
Hedonist can look after itself, though that hand has been feeling
peculiar ever since. Traumatised. Trembly. Violated. Aroused. Exactly
like the Congenital Macropenis, in fact.
More and more men are getting mash-up in the name
of aesthetics. In the States 99,000 went under the knife last year,
compared to 55,000 in 1992. At this point Hedonist is probably supposed
to think that it's terrible that the poor ickle menz are feeling
pressurised to look good - that's a woman's job, innit - but in
fact it feels that it's necessary for both sexes to become preening
monstrous sex objects for a bit.
Just as chicks are attempting to have proper jobs
and head companies an' ting, so too are fellas experimenting with
being empty-headed bimbos with sore feet and poor body image. Eventually
men will realise that chasing an idealised image of themselves will
only leave them knackered and skint and at crap parties with terrible
surgery scars, and then, hey, maybe we can all chill out a bit and
not be so fucking surface-obsessed. And until then? Hedonist is
going to sit back and enjoy the view. Unbutton your pants, boys...
I'm coming through.
Send plot concepts, cheap sulphate and cheesecake
to: zoe@seethru.co.uk
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