So, David Choe comes over the other day. I’m reading the kids a story and he’s wandering around the country after finally giving up gambling (probably). I tell him I have to get the kids ready for bed so it’ll be a second before I can look at his new book and we can shoot the shit.
After tucking them in and creating a forcefield around each kid to make them monster proof, I come back to the living room to catch up. I haven’t seen him in a year or two and am curious to see if anything’s changed because it almost never has. David’s life is the opposite of mine and as he starts into his first story, I realize we’re going to have go out to the balcony lest his disgusting words get on any of my kids’ toys.
“Remember that painting I did of Sasha Grey?” he asks. I sort of remember it but not really. “Well, it doesn’t matter” he said waving his hand, “Me and James Jean painted her for this thing and during a break, I walked over and talked to the dude who brought her. He was a black dude looking at magazines and I assumed he worked with her or something but when I asked him he goes, ‘No, I’m her husband.’ I asked him how he feels about two horny Asian dudes drawing her nude body and all the way worse shit she does every day - with strangers - and he goes, ‘That’s her job and she’s good at it and I love her very much. It doesn’t affect our relationship.’ I remember thinking: That’s really fucking weird and I could never be like that.” Choe then breaks into at least a dozen sex stories that involve fucking guy’s girlfriends and sodomy and orgies and prostitutes and gang bangs and other stuff I forgot happens in the outside world.
I’ve just finished reading a story about Thomas the Tank Engine overcoming his fears and I’m looking forward to catching up on some Stossels I DVR’d and Choe is still doing the same shit he was doing when I met him fifteen years ago. As all old guys are wont to do, I asked him when he was going to meet a nice girl and settle down. “When is it time for the babies?” I asked. “That’s what I’m getting to” he said, “I was just dating this porn star who is really, really fucking hot. I fucked the living shit out of her one night and I see she’s lying there being all pensive and I worry I did something wrong. I ask her what’s up and she tells me she has her first double penetration scene the next day and she’s really nervous about it. I held her close and told her everything’s going to be okay. I really meant it. It was a nice sentimental moment, just like any other couple would have, but we were talking about one stranger’s dick going in her vagina and another stranger’s dick going in her asshole - at the same time.”
I told Choe that that is just wrong and he said, “Yeah, I know but that’s who I am. I’m that black dude looking at magazines while my girlfriend gets fucked and I don’t give a shit. The next day I dropped her off and told her she’s going to be amazing – and she was.”
Usually when I talk to perpetually single people over 35, I can tell they’re bullshitting themselves and would like nothing more than to move on to the next stage and start a family. 80% of my peers don’t have kids and about 3% of that 80% are truly happy with that. Sure, they all say they’re happy and they may even be convincing themselves of this lie but I can tell deep down, 77% of the 80% are full of shit. David Choe is a 3 percenter, a bonafide weirdo who will never have a family and never should.
-GAVIN McINNES
SIMULTANEOUSLY POSTED ON STREET CARNAGE.
