COVER -> RECOMMENDED DAILY REQUIREMENT
TUNA TIME! - San Francisco - This is written in the interests of full disclosure because most people reading The World's Magazine today may have missed the Most Excellent contributions of me, Charlie the Tuna, over the years. Let me fill you in.
I first met this Web magazine's publisher back in 1993, in San Francisco, when it was still only a hardcopy 'Zine. He liked some of my perspectives on stuff and decided that I could have a feature here --- what eventually became The Sex Column.
That's when the quano hit the twirling fan blades and all kinds of protests began. It wasn't my fault. Some people in the United States are still squeamish when it comes to talking about the sign of the double-aarvark.
So, between 1993 and today, I've been kicked out, invited back, and kicked out of this magazine, on and off the Web, well pretty near six or seven times.
BUT I ALWAYS GET ASKED BACK. Call me the Bad Penny.
And what's that about? Well, if you look at a "Tabloid" Hart, he's pretty much Charlie the Tuna WITHOUT THE T & A. In fact, I've been rankled by watching too many of the writers here try to copy my inimitable style! "Remember: It will take more than a few tornadoes to blow away all the Trailer Trash." Isn't that a rip-off of "As Always: Stay Hard?" I think so!
Here's the problem: look at my first article the last time this magazine asked me back. Or read this:
There is a point of sensual and sexual pleasure to which most women don't want to go. When you start leading them there, they beg off. Or those who do succumb to the temptation to take a few tentative steps, inevitably, accuse you of being The Devil. But they chuckle when they say it.My own personal theory on this, and pardon me for burdening you with it, is that some women secretly want to believe that the Devil is the king of their lascivious desires, the great well of insatiable sex that they are indoctrinated to deny --- their capacity for true carnal pleasure --- and so they must make you take responsibility for their carnality in order to accept it. But that's just my humble opinion.
My advice, for men or dykes: if you meet a woman for whom you think this is the case: seduce her immediately; she is one of our kind. She understands how to luxuriate in her sensuality and sexuality. But they are few and far between. Ask me. I've devoted my life to sleeping with women like this, and wasted hours with scores to find the rare jewels I can count on one hand...
OR:
This chapter I wannah talk a bit about how in this ending of the century a lottah guys have been brow‚beaten into thinking we should pity the "poor frails" --- women, or womyn, that is. It started back in the '70's with Alan Alda and is being promulgated in more deceptive terms by the Men's Movement (is that like Bowel Movement?) types like Robert Blye. If I'm a king, then she's a Queen, says Bly."...I thought she was goddess, foolish me/She thought I was hero/Tee-hee-hee.." says the rock song.
Face it, Losers, women want one thing: greenbacks.
And men want one thing: pussy that makes them think they are
- a) young,
- b) virile,
- c) "the best".
It's King of the Hill on a new playing field. This is a social order based on lying to each other to get what we want. The first one to die is the biggest loser.
Unless you're the woman. 'Cause the woman is in a win‚win situation. If she dies first, she does not have to put up with your illusions anymore. If you die first, she's an heiress. She has money and no jerk to have to thank for it.
A friend of mine used to call this dynamic "The Power of the Pussy".
It goes like this: Have you ever noticed that while you're sitting over the Chateaubriand trying to impress the babe with the fact that you got the condo in Ibiza, the ski boat, the time-share in Aspen, she is just sitting there smiling smugly under her coiffure?
"Why is this, Charlie?" the less apt of you might ask.
If you could put a thought‚balloon (like they do in the cartoons?) over her head, it would read: "Right. Right. [Sing‚song] But I got the pus-sy."
IT'S AN IMBALANCED EQUATION, JERK-FACE!
Because of the law of supply and demand, she has the upper hand and she knew if from the moment you came sputtering up to her door trying to appear suave and collected. She can take or leave your condo in Ibiza, but you CAN'T walk away from what she's got.
That brings this all back to ME, Charlie the Tuna. I figured out this zero‚sum game (on the male side) years ago. 'Cause the fact is: THE CONDO IN IBIZA, THE SKI BOAT, ALL OF IT IS WORTH MORE THAN WHAT THAT BIMBO HAS!!
Get a clue guys! That's why the equation is imbalanced and they're always smug and you're always trying to impress them. Let it go. Look up from your crotch for a moment and figure out that THEY OUTNUMBER US. Which means, if anything, we should be the smug ones. Alan Alda sold you a bill of goods, pal.
So this is my intro. Expect more in the coming weeks!
As Always: STAY HARD.
This week's Poll: If I could live anywhere, it would be ...?
RDR RECOMMENDED SITE OF THE DAY: Back in The Day our publisher was part of a unique Internet community called THE WELL (Whole Earth 'Lectronic Link.) That's where he met a visionary named Howard Rheingold. You might want to see what Howard is doing now? If so, go here.
