GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #62: CASUAL NUDITY

A long time ago, I enjoyed getting naked at parties. Yeah, I was That Guy. I was in much better shape back then, so I was completely comfortable in taking off my clothes while hammered out of my mind. (One of my friends once told me that back then, I looked like an underwear model.) I remember one party in particular when I was on my friend's balcony--naked--shouting at people down below in the parking lot.


Then I got fat again, mostly due to one of the worst break-ups I'd ever gone through. I stopped caring about myself, and I packed on a lot of weight. I'm still struggling to get back down to my healthier weight. However, I still got naked at parties. It was just from the waist down. (I have a pact with the universe. I keep my shirt on my horribly fat body, and the universe rewards me by not showing me horribly fat people with their shirts off. This has worked out pretty well.)


Then, I got this awful pad of fat that hid some of my dick, so I stopped getting naked at parties. However, I still took dick pics so I could make people laugh. I had to pull that fat pad back so I could extend to my full length, of course. Even though I'm probably getting too old for this, I still have a good collection of dick pics on my phone, enough to make an arresting officer very, very uncomfortable if he looked at that particular folder on my phone.


I don't send them out very often anymore, though, mostly due to one of my friends. She has a great sense of comedic timing when she's drunk. When she's not? Eh, not so much. But when she's tanked, she's fucking hilarious. Jason and Jori of Forced Viewing fame held a camping party in their back yard. They live in unincorporated Lombard, so they live in a semi-rural area, perfect for camping. The morning after the party, I woke up with a raging hard-on, so I decided to jerk off in their back yard so afterward, I could take a piss that wouldn't arc up in the air and maybe blow back on me (the wind was kind of strong). I took pictures, of course, and I showed them off.


Shortly afterward, I went to an unofficial work outing and started showing off those pictures to my co-workers. They were all used to my bullshit by that point and laughed it off to my usual craziness. (Keep in mind, by this point I'd published my cock in TABARD INN #2, so quite a few people were already familiar with it.) But then I showed it to this one friend, and she knew exactly what to say to me. Because she was drunk. And she's incredibly funny when she's drunk.


I showed her the pic, and she said, "This is your dick? Why are you showing off something this small? Are you proud of this?"


This is genius. Utter genius. There is no way I could have responded to that and maintain some form of dignity. If I denied being small, I would have come off as desperate. If I tried to be self-deprecating, I would have come off as pathetic. Anything out of my mouth would have sounded terrible. I could be hung like Ron Jeremy, and there's no way I would have come out of this well.


What did I do? There's only one thing I could have done: I laughed my ass off. She'd gotten me good.


So yeah. I don't send off many dick pics anymore. I don't get naked in public too often. However, I still fuck with people. Not anyone who would actually take offense, of course. This isn't about harassment (or even getting laid). This is about making people laugh. It works 99% of the time. The other 1%? That's the one friend who humbled me in a great way.


[This reminds me of something Jason pulled once. Whenever he throws his Rock Band parties, I just tell him to pick a song at random for me to parody. I'll do anything and make up anything. But this one time, he chose a song by Snoop, and not being too familiar with his body of work, I couldn't make up my own words. During the performance, I said, "Fuck it, you got me." I surrendered. I haven't fucked with his Rock Band parties since because he got the better of me.]


I just realized, this piece makes me seem like an ego maniac. I have a degree of egotism to me but dick pics and Rock Band parodies are not the definition of my self-importance. To those of you who may have forgotten, I have a great deal of suicidal moments, which I've written about several times in Goodnight, Fuckers, so there is a huuuuuuuuge amount of self-doubt in my heart. I'm not writing this to look for sympathy or to come off as a dick. I'm writing this so you can laugh at my own stupidity, of which there is a lot.

COCK TRIUMPHANT! A review of THE LIBERTINE

The DVD case proclaims, “Passionate, decadent, scandalous,” and it’s true. These three words perfectly define the movie, THE LIBERTINE, and its protagonist, John Wilmot (portrayed deliciously by Johnny Depp).



Set in London during the 17th Century, this film follows the sexual misadventures of Wilmot, the second Earl of Rochester, son to King Charles II (played by John Malkovich, who wears an awful prosthetic nose). Wilmot and his questionable friends make their way through the filthiest bars in town, guzzling booze and fucking the skankiest whores they can find. In one scene, Wilmot rescues a thief from being beaten by the fellow’s employer only to give him money to meet him for employment the following day. Wilmot’s friends give him crap, saying that he just wasted perfectly good money. Why should the thief show up for work? He just got free money. When the thief actually shows up, Wilmot dismisses him because he’s gone legitimate. After the thief convinces him of his worth, Wilmot decides to employ him, but only after the thief takes the money from yesterday to get a whore. “A good whore.” And return after spending his seed.


But since he is an Earl, Wilmot doesn’t just stick to the shadier places in London; he regularly attends the theatre, where he is most happiest. One evening, he sees an actress (played by Samantha Morton) being heckled because she can’t project very well. She storms off stage, ready to quit. Wilmot offers his services to her. Thinking he intends to just have sex with her, she offers her “slit for a pound a night.” Surprisingly, his intentions are pure, and he puts her through the toughest training she has ever known. Unbeknownst to her, he has a bet with one of his friends that he can turn her into the finest actress in town.


He wins, of course, but something about this whole ordeal surprises Wilmot: he falls in love with the actress . . . but she won’t have him. Yes, this turns out to be a romance, but not the kind your girlfriend would enjoy. This is PYGMALION from Hell.

The only thing that seems out of place are the prologue and epilogue, in which Wilmot sits in shadows and tells the viewers about how much they’re going to hate him. It’s brilliantly acted (and funny as hell), but it takes the audience out of the movie. Also, why bother to tell people about how much they’re going to dislike the protagonist? Let them make up their minds. (And as a side note, he’s not that despicable. Granted, one has to be a questionable sort themselves to like the guy, but he’s more than suitable as a subject.)


The sets are wonderful, the language is down and dirty, the costumes are spot on, and the giant dildos are . . . ah yes. The giant dildos. You see, Wilmot is also a playwright, and to embarrass his father, he writes a very scandalous comedy involving huge paper mache cocks.


How could you not want to see this movie?


THE LIBERTINE
Written by Stephen Jeffreys based on his play
Directed by Laurence Dunmore
Starring Johnny Depp, John Malkovich, and Samantha Morton
114 minutes
$5.49 at Amazon
2005