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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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