Bob

I'm on a quest for a new social cause to decry. In the interlude, lets talk about Bob.

This weekend I did some insider research into the psyche of the opposite sex. Say it. For those few brave males willing to brave the pro-feminist sentiment of a crowd of rallied women, the experience is quite exhilarating. The suggestive graphic art, the bold statement made by a majora and minora walking around with the coarsest of sentiments and candy are a symphony for the ages.

And the show begins. There is no music, no backdrop - no set to speak of. Chairs, microphones and the quivering, sometimes panting voices of the artist in turn.

Particularly poignant or revealing was Japan and it's short staccato  style. Writing reminiscent of a machine gun often has the same effect. Chills on the back of my arm, a smile to my face - not because of the words but despite them - and thunderous applaud. Ah to be able to write with such poise and sentiment.

My suburban lifestyle of late robs me of that tortured artist experience.

And the orgasm. What a hilarious pleasure.

I've found in my field of research that it's a fingerprint. I wish I could be an orgasm forensic. An analyst of the subtleties of the moan, the tightening of the lower back muscles, curling of toes and the back-of-the-eye-whites rolling of the eyes. A regular day at the office would involve research -interviews,  surveys and dirty water cooler talk - and field research. I would walk through the department (I'd carry a laminate, not a badge) and be envied by men, respected by women.

My job would be to make people happy. Not haha happy but OMFG, I LOVE YOU! happy.

A world filled with normally heart-felt sentiments made real for brief seconds at a time. A race in search of a triple-stacked burger(consider it a euphemism).

It would be the story of Bob. The man who made a woman lover herself more than she thought possible.  A man reading more into a woman's girly parts with greater finesse and in greater detail than most husbands can read their 20-years-mortgage-and-kids wife.

Cheers Bob!