[edit: 9/6/05 Pic removed temporarily due to Neil Strauss' The Game]
Before regaling the tales my foreign adventures, I'd like to make an observation of various denizens of the Dallas scene. While I would not go so far as calling them the bane of my existence, they do however threaten my narcisstic journey as I explore the path of self-enlightment through self-gratification.
Firstly, there are the Texas Guidos. I picked up this term from the blog, the Doorman, who's weekly foray into the profession of New York bouncing has him rubbing elbows with unsavory Guidos. Link below:
http://standingonthebox.blogspot.com
Think The Gottis with their, as the Doorman describes, "ugly, tight silk shirts", "Sonic-the-Hedgehog hairdos", "sharply waxed eyebrows", with purely cosmetic upper torso muscle development and chicken legs.
However, the Texas Guidos are a local, homegrown variety. As my girl KD describes them, they're fucking "Cornfed." How apropo.
What led me to this striking observation of this Dallas anathema having been in here for more than a month?
Namely, I went out for drinks with that pseudo-stripper at a popular pub. Picture below.
Now, I'll grant you the local talent was pretty hot. The venue was a hip and young with a plethora of rich SMU blond coeds.
And everywhere I turned, or could not turn, were 200+ pound, college gorillas that ranged from 5"2 to over 6" tall. I'm all for physical development. I put on 40 pounds to go from the skinny lad of high school to the average/slim build of today. And if I could, barring the massively painful mornings waking up to throbbing joints, I would work out even more.
But I would never approach the juiced up meathead levels that I saw before me, milling about like so much ping pongs balls, bouncing off one another because all those muscles were getting in the way with their chicken legs mightily struggling to support their top heavy structures, leaning like the Tower of Pisa into one another, threatening a domino-like collapse.
Without further ado, I introduce you to some of Cornfed Cowboys...
But not to be outdone, Texas has it's own variety of "Guidettes." They're invariably dyed-in-the-trim blondes sporting their recent graduation gifts, a lovely pair of matching silicone toys. I have yet to coin a term for that gaggle of inebriated, vacuity who serve no redeeming social value other than being receptacles for Cornfeds.
This was personified when last night (the night after I met up with pseudo-stripper) I went to a bikini contest that a decent club was holding. As I am wont to do, I gravitated towards the beautiful women and engaged in various conversations. I also ended up talking with four of the eight contestants: a lawyer, an Olympic athlete, a DJ groupie and her friend... a Playboy bunny (from one of the college editions).
Their combined IQ could not boil water.
Maybe I'm getting older. Maybe I'm getting soft. But there was only pure, unadulterated, 100% concentrated mindlessness. No substance. No context. No depth.
Yeah sure, I'd fuck each and everyone of those ADD sluts, but I'm afraid my IQ would plummet, as if stupidity was a form of contractable STD.
As a sidenote, psuedo-stripper girl showed up at the pub thoroughly stoned out of her mind.