So at this point I’m like, “Biggest boobies wins” because it’s a case of blank profile after blank profile and since just about every picture is of some highly dressed up woman, and they all look pretty good, therefore the only criteria to select one from another really is bra size. I’ve come across literally two women who have made me think that I might want to have a conversation with them out of what must be a couple of hundred at this point. About four more I added purely because of the exceptional boob to belly ratio, that is the separation between the furthest point of the breast and the furthest point of the belly.
Basically it’s just like real life but more condensed: I walk into a bar I look around: I see all these women dressed up to the nines who give off this air of being vacuous and having nothing to say for themselves, I discard them, I notice the two really busty ones, I log them for later, and maybe I notice one quite animated woman who seems to have something about her and I think, “Get a drink, find my mates, see if we can’t get talking to her at some point”.
I am so that guy that’s sitting there surrounded by my female friends and I’m like, “I hate women, they’re so boring”. I did this on Friday and C was not amused.
It all makes me reflect on Dakota: the thing that intoxicates me about her is that she has an intellect and broadcasts the fact, she has passions, she cares about things and she has more to her than doing her job and going to the gym. Passionate women. I love passionate women. It’s the thing about the……they need a name……the air heads. The thing about the airheads is that they’re stick thin, not unhealthily so, but they are skinny and flat chested, they have these tight dresses on, the hair and makeup is immaculate, but somehow because of that they don’t quite look real, they look like dolls. There’s no energy coming off them, hence vacuous. Even when I’m talking to them my mind struggles to register them as real people, it’s like looking at a dead body: you just instinctively know that something is missing.
Dakota though: suddenly she’s quiet, she looks out into space, she sighs, catches herself, looks at me, takes a sip from her drink and I look into her blue eyes and I think to myself, “What was that? What was she thinking of”. When she arrives I don’t just see her and hear her I feel her arrive, when she’s opposite me at the table I feel her presence. She moves, her body language tells you there’s something going on upstairs. Then she speaks and its intelligent and it’s well thought out and informed, even when I disagree with her, which is often, I love hearing what she has to say.
The airheads though, they sit there in one posture, they hardly move, they’re inexpressive, they’re silent. Perhaps there’s the odd weirdly too perfect smile, the flatly delivered statement about themselves. When they move it’s done as if it’s the most laborious thing, it’s slow and sluggish and the skinny arms……….