Entry Nine: Big Dick Energy, Small Dick Results: The Disastrous Shit-Show of Dating in Your 40s
“I THEN DROPPED A DEAR TRAVEL GOAL—VISITING GERMANY. I WENT OFF ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVE STUDYING WWII HISTORY AND HOW FASICNATED I AM BY THAT TIME PERIOD. I TOLD HIM I WANTED TO SEE THE CONCENTRATION CAMPS, WALK THE BEACHES OF NORMANDY, AND JUST DO ALL THE THINGS—TAKE IT ALL IN, EVERY GUT-WRENCHING, HISTORICALLY SIGNIFICANT PART OF IT.
ONLY TO REMEMBER, A LITTLE TOO-FUCKING-LATE—THAT THE MAN IS JEWISH...”
Manifest. Mourn. Masturbate. Repeat: A Midlife Awakening
“I HAD A HEART-TO-HEART WITH MY PHYSICIAN RECENTLY AND EXPLAINED TO HER THAT THERE IS ONE THING IN LIFE I REFUSE TO GIVE UP. AND THAT MY FRIENDS ARE ORGASMS...
THE FACT THAT MY ANTI-ANXIETY MEDICATION LIKES TO NUMB MY CLITORIS, ISN’T A WIN IN MY BOOK. I’D RATHER LIVE WITH MY ANXIETY AND JERK OFF ALL DAY WITH SOME ACTUAL FEELING IN MY GENITALS. LIFE IS SHORT, AND ORGASMS ARE SACRED.”
