Wednesday, April 01, 2015


Googling my own name inevitably leads to William Faulkner, Martin Luther King, George Bush, and pictures of naked women. I am baffled why this is so. William Faulkner is somewhat understandable, as he was a brilliant writer (AND a pipe smoker), but the other three mystify me.
If I had to specify which ones were to show up in my life by magic, it would probably be the last listed. Not that I disrespect or poo-poo either Martin Luther King, OR George Bush, but as a typical heterosexual male, I am programmed to find naked women conversationally far more interesting than either a civil rights leader or a mumbling politician.

The depressing fact is that I may have to settle, in the short term, for something other than the nudes.

Besides pizza, nothing cheers the typical heterosexual male quite so well as naked women. One, or pluralities of the same. That, of course, is why so many young men gladly head off to college.
Not a fascination with the great events of world history. Not a curiosity about how and why the universe ticks. Not the stellar prose of luminaries such as William Faulkner.
Naked women. The prospect of.

For most young men there are never naked women at home. But college towns are ripe with them. Positively overflowing. Awash with vasts scads of occasionally unclothed or partially clothed women of suitable ages.
And there's also pizza!

Pizza, good.

One of the things I need to do before too long is head down to Palo Alto for a pizza lunch, followed by conspicuously reading William Faulkner out in the open.
An intellectual day trip of sorts.
Feeding my curiosity.

I should know by now not to google my own name.

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Important disclaimer or whatever: Because I am Dutch American, neurotic, and somewhere on the spectrum (Aspergers syndrome is quite common a...