I DIG chicks. I love women. They’re the most fascinating creatures in the multiverse, I swear. All females are the pork and beans and tomato sauce, but human ones just take the cup.
Not even my mad fascination with hermaphrodites which came from my reading Middlesex by Jefferey Eugenides (Sigh. Cal. Sigh) and Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami (Oshima!!) one after the other was able to wrest the yoghurt from women.
The swish of a skirt, back of a knee. Back dimples. Pretty calves. Giggles! The a thousand and ten ways they can make themselves look even more beautiful (accessories rock).
I swear. My day can be going as smellilyy as a finger that has been stuck into a moist and dirty navel until a girl looking pretty or a woman looking just so…womanly appears and shines her awesome, cleansing femininity on it. The softness. The tenderness. The violence. The scheming. The everything!
The nice fingers, shapes, the way a woman can just shake your week by being beautiful in ways that refuse to conform to the 27 documented kinds of beauty .
My newest girl crush is The Floacist. My goodness.
On a very unrelated note, growth.
This week will be a good one. I have a feeling.
Dedike: Something ’bout a woman by Lady Antebellum (ona di replay)!