I’ve been thinking a lot about man’s constant thinking about sleeping with as many women as possible, most men dare I say all men? and it’s no wonder that porn is so big, that cheating is at catastrophic levels of acceptance, a new movie that I have no idea why anyone would want to watch exhibit 1. and I’m wondering if my evolutionary psych prof was right, that men just want to sow their seed in as many places as possible. that if you go on a trip your sperm count is higher when you come back because evolutionarily, you need to overcome any competitive sperm that might have been deposited in your mate while you were gone. that the whole men thinking about sex all the time is just our biological thing, and getting one guy to settle down the provide for the offspring is the woman’s. and then I think about how christianity teaches the same thing. then I think about how xianity and evolutionary psych are pretty much in the same boat. they’ve accepted appearances. they’ve succumbed to stereotypes. and they perpetuate them.

I want to be free.

no parentheses here. this is all going right into the fray, baby.

sorry, I call everyone baby.

hadn’t been riding for a while, since the road trip. got out of the cycle. ocean was very beautiful and calm this morning…the clouds kept the sun at bay, made things bearable….really it’s just the humidity that makes things so bad down here. the temperature isn’t that high, but all moisture sticks to you and there is no evaporative cooling occurring whatsofuckingever. I was thinking about riding as meditative time and never remembering all this shite that pops into my head when I’m riding. but I’m getting some of it down. I was thinking about how I need a little digital recorder for all the shite that I think of while I’m on the bike. I was thinking how down here you have to really like just the physicality of it because besides the ocean…there’s nothing…but cars trying to kill you.

I rode by this car shop and thought that I wanted to be a mechanic w/long hair….things are set, you can be, look, feel how you want. you can go home and have a beer at night and sit on your porch and feel that life isn’t so bad after all. our mechanic has long hair; and he’s the smartest dude you ever met. he knows all about computers and he’s traveled to Europe with his family multiple times. he love italy. I hate italy, but that’s another matter. point is, he’s smart, and he’s our mechanic, and sometimes I want to just be a mechanic.

this is the part where I say the f-work repeatedly. fuck, fuck, fuck, etc. it’s supposed to be the part where I rise above the circumstances of my imminent death, I have a moment of clarity, all the pieces fall together, I’m given a glimpse of the big plan, I feel ultimately connected to a greater power. But it’s not. fuck, etc.

we’re going for maximum pleasure.

thought a lot about my dad yesterday, a week and some off of the hate experience. it’s funny how much a father can have an effect on your psyche, even when you’re 27. I guess some people are lucky enough to have honorable, unconditional, accepting, understanding love from their fathers. for the rest of us there is Jesus.

no proofreading here. no sir.