Darius D.

This blog is a reflection of me, forever growing and evolving. So, only expect one thing when you visit, TRUTH. Unless I post a short story, then it wouldn't quite be true, now would it?



Sunday, February 27, 2011

Preteen Dreams & Grown Man Wishes

This post is in serious violation of "MAN LAW", and I am fully aware of that. It's a good thing that I don't buy into any of that BS, so I have absolutely no qualms with the following statement:
Men need to grow up!

Yeah, I said it. And I don't mean in the "You're how old and still playing those damn video games while I'm over here in my new lace, tiger-print, Frederick's of Hollywood lingerie?" kind of way. I don't even mean it in the "They're only shoes; who cares that he stepped on them and didn't say sorry?" kind of way. I mean it in the Al Bundy drooling over the centerfold of the Jugs magazine kind of way.

Now, don't get me wrong; I am truly a fan of the female physique. Along with The Pyramids and Machu Picchu, the feminine form is one of God's most amazing creations. Poets and sculptors have crafted masterpieces from its inspiration. Amazing lyricists like Carl Carlton, "Her body measurements are perfect in every dimension~She's got a figure that's sho' 'nuff gettin' attention~She's poetry in motion, a beautiful sight to see~I get so excited viewin' her anatomy," and Sisqo: "She had dumps like a truck, truck, truck~Thighs like what, what, what~Baby move your butt, butt, butt," couldn't help but pen classics in honor of a woman's body.

And I understand that. But I don't understand what drives men to the point of losing their damn minds over the mere prospect of seeing ass and titties.

When I was young, I used to sneak under my uncle's water bed mattress to find a deluge of dirty magazines. It was a preteen's paradise. The mere sight of naked breasts was enough to work my burgeoning libido into a frenzy. Every chance I got, I would sneak a magazine out of the house to share with neighborhood friends. You would then find 5 or 6 googly-eyed adolescents smiling wildly as they stared at things our young minds could only imagine of experiencing first-hand.

But we were kids. We had nearly the same reaction when my friend Jarvis showed us his new G.I. Joe with the Kung Fu grip.

Why do grown ass men have the exact same reactions when it comes to strip clubs? I don't get it. Friends have tried to explain the merits. Some even talk about the great food many establishments serve. Maybe it's my aversion to germs. Maybe it's my ego. But I have never been a big fan of paying for a sweaty stranger to invade my personal space.



I was recently a groomsman in one of my really good friend's wedding. As is customary, the Best Man did his due diligence of organizing the bachelor party. To the delight of almost everyone invited, the itinerary basically consisted of strippers, dinner, and more strippers. (I hope my boy's new wife doesn't read this.) Almost to a man, everyone was happier than a rooster in a hen house when talking about the dancers. They were even willing to forsake a good meal just to see naked women. They reminded me of that huddled corner of kids I used to be a part of.

I'm not knocking a person's desire to view the physical form, or to toss money into the vicinity of the hard-working women. And if you're helping someone get the school, keep their lights on, or pay for their panther paw tattoo, isn't it all worth it in the end?

I just question some of the personal lives of those who go crazy at the thought of seeing naked women. Come on, man; you're an adult. Behave like one. Save all of your drooling and panting for the privacy of your own home...in front of your own computer screen...watching whatever porn site you choose.

3 comments:

Gelonya Carter said...

I, for one, do not understand a man’s fascination with viewing naked women in a public place. Maybe it’s the forbidden fruit allure: the “look but don’t touch” aspect of a sweaty, naked woman grinding on a man, or the fantasy of strippers and strip clubs propelled by the entertainment media, namely the hip hop industry. I strongly believe that this form of sexual display should be done between two lovers (or however many participants depending on their needs/desires) behind closed doors. Call me old-fashioned, I don’t care; I cannot fathom a man enjoying nakedness while trying to conceal his “excitement” from the other patrons. Do not misconstrue what I am saying: there is absolutely nothing wrong with a T & A show for that special someone-it adds to the intimacy of the relationship and it is sexy and fun. I just prefer my performances to be in a clean and controlled environment like my bedroom, living room, etc…Not in some pungent smelling club with booty music, catcalls, and tobacco smoke permeating in the air- not sexy at all!!! At least with a private show between lovers all parties involved can be satisfied in a somewhat sanitary fashion. Not the case with a strip club visit: the man usually walks out with a massive hard on, less money in his pocket, and funky as hell. FYI: for centuries many art forms including the Renaissance and Baroque movements, based their female nude subjects on male nude models. Take a look at Raphael’s St. Catherine of Alexandria and Michelangelo’s Night; however, interesting post otherwise.

Anonymous said...

Love it, love it, and love it. I never understood anyone's -- including women's -- fascination w/ strippers and strip clubs. It
's all so confusing to me. Between like you mentioned, the sweaty strangers, the germs, and if nothing the sheer tease of looking but being incapable of touching, I can't imagine why people spend their money on such foolishness. Please don't get me started on the whole stripping to get trough college bit.

Sun said...

Ok....so, no one shoot me, but I enjoy watching strippers. And, apparently I've been exposed to a different type of stripper. The ones I've seen weren't sweaty, most looked beyond college age, and I didn't see many tattoos and absolutely no bullet holes! They were extremely graceful and seductive, no homo ;-) Some were quite athletic, too! They were aduts who, for whatever reason, chose to use their bodies as objects of desire to make money. Was that their only option? Of course not! But, it's not my place to judge them. As far as their patrons go, if that's how they choose to use their money, so be it. Thanks for sharing your thoughts :-)