Ugly as Sin
A friend of a friend dropped her boyfriend a couple of months ago. In the middle of New York, the boyfriend choked on the proposal. He could not commit. He could not ask the question. He was holding something back.
Since I want things to make sense, I always try to correlate the present to the past. While surfing the net, I found out why the boyfriend could not commit. He wanted to be the next American Idol. That's right, he wanted to be a singer. It is his passion. His singular reason for existence. The rason d 'etre or some French phrase like that.
And because chasing a dream such as being a singer requires tremendous amounts of energy, dedication and not to mention self-delusion, the rooster choked at the moment of his destiny. Now I would not mind this so much if and only if he had a chance in hell of succeeding.
And how do I know whether or not he will succeed? Well, in the music business just like in the movie business, there are some things which must be present for you to be a star. First, you gotta have a voice. No problemo. Our rooster has a voice. Besides with reverb and all that synthesizer bullshit, he sounds like an angelic castrato. Second, you gotta know music. Again, not a problem. The cock has studied music; music is his life. Hell, he doesn't do much else of anything except music. His parents can attest to that. They are still supporting our hero.
The third and the third is where our rooster comes up short. You gotta have looks. As the SO has said, you must be f*ckable by any and all sexes. That means that ladies will not mind doing a one night stand with you. AND, men will consider going gay for one night just to be with you.
Let's get an example. American Idol Rocker Bo Bice is an example of extremely f*ckable. Men and women alike. Hell, I heard that there were some angels and demons waiting for this guy to die just so they could try and bed him. Now with that in mind, if you are going to be a singer, you have to look at yourself in the mirror. Are you high up on the F Index?
Now, if you in blogland have ever met me, you will never mistake me for extremely f*ckable. Nice maybe. One night stand material? Never. Well, the thing is that our rooster is uglier than I am. Now, don't get me wrong, I am ugly. I am a balding middle-aged man with a gut larger than aggage. Ugly. But if you saw our rooster, you would probably have to say that the rooster is uglier than I am. And I'm pretty ugly.
And so, our rooster has now launched his singing career in the bistros and bowels of New Yawk city. He's out there making music. He's got some good beats and rhythms. But once you see him, you won't care about his music. I know, I know. Pretty shallow. Well, I can't help it that the world is shallow. I can only control what I do. That's why I never pursued being a superstar. A super satyr maybe. But never a superstar.