Circa 1800 Goya painted “La Maja Desnuda”; three years later, in 1803, perhaps feeling a little guilty, he does another, this time with clothes on her. This was before feminism, so let’s just say ol’ Goya was a little pensive about the Inquisition. (The paintings were owned by Spanish prime minister Manuel de Godoy, who preferred to go by “Manual” while gazing at the former painting.) Maja’s fate is ours as well — to start off naked, then end up clothed as some apology. Don’t blame eve, but Ross dress for less.

Some sick bastard, and we’ll assume he wasn’t riffing on Goya’s Maja paintings, painted clothes on this pleasant lady showing off her body. Eroticism is heightened by mystery, and I’m now wondering what I’m missing. The pockets are a cute touch, but I’m disappointed the artist didn’t include a camel toe. “The girl next door fantasy” plays into the loneliness and alienation of suburbia with the notion of an nonjudgmental naive mate (her father needs to mow the lawn). They’re always wearing cotton socks and running shoes, as if part of the fantasy is the running away.

The thing about unrequited love is that there’s no such thing, as love is a feeling one owns, like god, however mired in delusion. For every lonely orgasm, one’s mate, in one’s mind, always smiles. For every two tits, a girl has one heart; so if you’re not into sharing, go with the latter.

“Once you go black, you can’t go back,” doesn’t just refer to black dick, but sumi ink painting.  We all know what’s really happening under this poker game, some lady having various orifices and/or hands engaged simultaneously. The “white chick black cock” motif plays into porn’s main device of social transgression. It’s fun to cover things up facetiously as a form of inverse censorship, but what strikes me the most is that people are spending time (albeit “online people” with too much time) covering up porn with prosaic moments. Perhaps we need more mystery in our porn, that the hidden toilet cams, upskirt videos, and ex-gf pics have taken voyeurism too far. To see is to not imagine, which is why love is blind.

Imagine a day when I roll in front of some girl’s house. She’ll have her ass out playing croquet on the lawn. I’ll take her to Carl’s Jr. drive-thru and she’ll blow me in the car. To scream misogyny is to take away the one thing I possess — the fantasy of a calorically dense meal. Haha if you didn’t get that.

Self-loathing begins with not having a huge black cock. That is why god, empathetic and all, invented pants.