misogyny

Evil and synthetic, lust after pornstars. Who cares if shes faking it, look how a professional makes it look real.

But the chopping and the edits and those plug-ins shape the landscape into mold and conformity.

So rather than go all out, just get the girl next door version. Easy to obtain and you can have an entire studio in your house. A real studio. For cheap. Think of the time and money you will save.

Roll out of bed and record a song, like living with your girlfriend sometimes that sex grows boring even if she is a pro under the sheets. And on the floor. And against the wall. And on the counter. And in the shower. You sure accomplished a lot at first, to say the least.

Still you occasionally wonder why you ever gave up using that basic understandable program with a nice user interface. Don’t look her up, she was hotter in highschool and hasn’t aged well.

Besides, think harder. So limited in what she could do. She had no future. You learned her ins and outs quickly and grew tired. Don’t dwell on the fun, remember the repetitive sounds she’d make? Besides that, think of all the other people who have had her and used her in the same ways you did. A million babies.

Look else where. Dark corners. Think more exotic. Find some flavors you haven’t tried. Maybe dabble in some foreign ladies? You can’t speak the language but the mechanism of action will always remain the same. Hell, you can’t even say her name let alone remember what it is. You’ll learn. Exciting isn’t it?

Just don’t tell your girlfriend. Or better yet, invite her to meet one of them. Nothing spices up your love of music like involving creative collaboration.

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