Doug

This is Doug. Doug and I used to date. Doug was the subject of many of my previous blog rants. Doug is kind of a douche. But he is a lot of fun and now that there is no threat of having to sleep with him, I like hanging out with him a lot.

Doug and I hit up First Friday this month and while walking around in sweltering heat we talked about life and relationships and of course, art.

“I seem to only gravitate to the pieces with faces,” he commented (or something like that, I can’t swear that Doug would actually use the word gravitate). I misguidedly took this as a signal to steer him toward a more introspective examination of self.

“Do you think that your interest in this type of art could be a comment on your inability to connect with people on a deep, real level? Could it be that because you mask your feelings and instincts with a humor, which is propelled by your deep insecurities, that being able to connect with a work on this visceral level gives you a sense of human connection that you are otherwise missing out on in your life?”

“Yeah, I think that is totally possible.”

“Wow. Really?”

“Sure, I mean the only porn I can get off to are the ones where I can see the chick’s face.” And that, my friends is the Doug I know and tolerate.

Doug and I have determined that while dating was definitely a shit-show we do make a great point / counter-point. He wants to be Jerry Lewis to my Dean Martin. I thought radio would be a great forum but he wants to do a web series. And he might have a point. One look at that smug mug and I am sure I will have plenty of ladies lining up to watch me put him in his place.

We’ll see.