I don't want to be loved for my money; my money can come or go, sometimes seemingly at will (money, really, is always going; even when it is coming to you, it is going away from someone else. The alternate logic is not available in this space. Thank you.).

I want to be loved for my artistry; I'll forever be an artist, if a spotty one.

I want to be loved for my quick, sly smile; ugly or not, my sly glint makes the moon shudder; I want to be loved for my nice qualities, like my sense of humor, my ability to listen, my gargantuan member. I want to be loved for the things that make me a cuddly schmoogy bear.

Alternately, I'd just like to be a porn star with the name Dick Member.

I figure, why not, it's a living.

permalink