Some of My Best Friends Are Sensualists

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This article is fantastically hilarious and, from my experience, accurate.

Here are some of my favourite parts:

“They’re big danglers, those sensualists. They wear soft, spongy footwear and sculpt designs in their beards and bestow multitudinous casual compliments to all. They’re messy human beings, with all that dangling and complimenting and beard-growing. They’re billowing with layers. Layers of issues, layers of scents, layers of spirituality, layers of meanings to their song lyrics, layers of vests and scarves and belts and brooches and other ungodly items I can’t imagine having the time to collect, store, coordinate and put away at night.”

 

“I can spot a sexualist on the street blocks away. They pass by me, and I am briefly but utterly possessed by their voracious yet uncaring eyes. Oh my god I do like them. I want to be had in a doorway by each and every one of them. Sexualists burn everything out — habits, towns, lovers — because they are so ravenous. Burn me out, please!”

 

“More sexualists were raised Protestant, and more sensualists Catholic. And since the Catholics greatly outnumber us Protestants, so do the sensualists. I see an army of massage-oiled zombies looming and leering, promising pleasure, as we cower, shaking, in the middle of our small wagon-circle defense. It’s not enough that they have each other — they want us too! “

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