Trubble is, most of us never get past that. We see the guy with the fancy house, motorcycle, pool, RV, and "gee, he's got it made, wish I was that lucky." Like Mike Wilbon's wink & nod to Hugh Hefner - man, he gets to fuck every slut who'll get naked for pics - must be the greatest man since Epstein.
And y'has t'wonder at this here advanced theoretical logic what's been imprinted on every American baby brain - entertainment of self. Kinda like "gotta hurry home from work to catch the NBA game...or Super Bowl, Premier League, or what the fuck. The trick is - don't ever get the anxiety/depression of what the fok kinda life I got that's sucks so bad all I gotta look forward to is some clown bouncing a ball on the floor. Gotterdam, tha's really depressing. Make fer all sorta self-loathing. Like pissin' all over a person's time on planet, or short little life.
Lee Rourke finds this shit boring. To be fair, he never grew up in Yemen, and I didn't neither (though I did mention that idea on page 3 of my book I done wrote years afore I ever met Lee at Appomattox) (okay, wasn't Appomattox, but has a nice ring to it, no?)
Yay verily did I leave Nebraski fer California in search of gold and young girls willing... (sorry Wilbon, didn't mean t'pick on you). I guess that's why geese migrate (Gertrude & Heathcliff) "why the hottest girl goose always gotta fly so damn fast?"
But you don't gotta read half-way through Ben Myers book t'get Dulcie to explain things. I'll give you a quick short story what tell all.
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