I feel that this is a good time to tell you about my dreams. I don’t know why this is a good time so I’m just going to put that out there and let you ponder it.
I have very simple dreams. Now these aren’t dreams about world peace, or reducing global warming. I’ll leave that to politicians in desperate need for a vote and pop stars who could literally buy slaves. My dreams are selfish. They only serve me.
I want to one day live in a huge apartment tower, right at the top. At nights, I would lean at the balcony rail and watch the world below go about its business. Occasionally, you might stare up at me, puzzled while I scream out, “Behold My Glorious Naked Form!”
I want to one day produce porn. This would be extremely cool, because I could gain the oxymoronic label of “virgin pornographer”. Yeah. This brings me to my next dream…
…to do it. With a woman. A pretty one with a good head and was born a girl. None of this, “but I’m a woman now.” Crap. No. I don’t care how much it cost you and how good it looks. I won’t hit that. You’ll have to pay me. If I happen to fulfil this dream before the above one, it would be no problem for me not being able to take that label, because it would be Mission Accomplished.
One day to meet my secret heroes as an equal (of sorts).
To build an extensive library of books, but I’ll be honest here, I probably will never read most of them. I only ever bought books for their pictures so it may be largely erotic photography. Still an extensive library of erotic photography is impressive.
I would like a job where I would give an idea to a room full of anxious people. After delivering my proposal, there would be a stunned silence and one would finally pipe up, saying, “That is…fucked up.” Then they would go do it, after writing my pay cheque.
I would like a crazy Vegas-style wedding. If I could afford it, I would rent a giant pink neon crucifix and hire an Elvis impersonator as the minister, either Black or Asian. And flowers - lots and lots of flowers. A classic Casio electric piano stuck on Organ setting. It would be pretty non-formal affair as you can imagine.
My funeral would be an awesome affair. It would involve a float shaped like a Viking long boat, a rock concert and my remains being destroyed by a mixture of half-explosives and half-fireworks. And the wake would have to be a barbeque of some description. Maybe open-fire spit roast.
I have very simple dreams. Now these aren’t dreams about world peace, or reducing global warming. I’ll leave that to politicians in desperate need for a vote and pop stars who could literally buy slaves. My dreams are selfish. They only serve me.
I want to one day live in a huge apartment tower, right at the top. At nights, I would lean at the balcony rail and watch the world below go about its business. Occasionally, you might stare up at me, puzzled while I scream out, “Behold My Glorious Naked Form!”
I want to one day produce porn. This would be extremely cool, because I could gain the oxymoronic label of “virgin pornographer”. Yeah. This brings me to my next dream…
…to do it. With a woman. A pretty one with a good head and was born a girl. None of this, “but I’m a woman now.” Crap. No. I don’t care how much it cost you and how good it looks. I won’t hit that. You’ll have to pay me. If I happen to fulfil this dream before the above one, it would be no problem for me not being able to take that label, because it would be Mission Accomplished.
One day to meet my secret heroes as an equal (of sorts).
To build an extensive library of books, but I’ll be honest here, I probably will never read most of them. I only ever bought books for their pictures so it may be largely erotic photography. Still an extensive library of erotic photography is impressive.
I would like a job where I would give an idea to a room full of anxious people. After delivering my proposal, there would be a stunned silence and one would finally pipe up, saying, “That is…fucked up.” Then they would go do it, after writing my pay cheque.
I would like a crazy Vegas-style wedding. If I could afford it, I would rent a giant pink neon crucifix and hire an Elvis impersonator as the minister, either Black or Asian. And flowers - lots and lots of flowers. A classic Casio electric piano stuck on Organ setting. It would be pretty non-formal affair as you can imagine.
My funeral would be an awesome affair. It would involve a float shaped like a Viking long boat, a rock concert and my remains being destroyed by a mixture of half-explosives and half-fireworks. And the wake would have to be a barbeque of some description. Maybe open-fire spit roast.
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