Act of bomb shell

Something began with Mae West continuing to Jane Mansfield and Marilyn Monroe to whom many blond big breasted beautiful women in limelight are connected. The biggest role for Norma Jean Baker was Marilyn Monroe and it was not bad acting at all. Marilyn Monroe perfected celebrity performance live act. How could anybody say she was a bad actress? Stupidity, clumsiness, unaware flirting supposed weaknesses of female sex embodied as a childlike doll, inabilities, drunkenness, forgetting her lines and singing. Who is she like when she is like that, why do we tolerate her like that, let her do what she does and adore her, are endlessly interested in her still? Was she doing what she was told to do, to act nice and look beautiful, smile, wave, walk, be perky bubbly adorable magnet. If you are not smiling you are troubled and rumors get wings, there are pictures of you with wrinkles on your forehead, hand on your face, face looking sad, you distant and depressed-looking. Sad beauty is not fun. She is pathetic and it is time to find a new one who will entertain us with her moves and nonsense kind of puppuppiduu and I love you’s. Is she on medication, does she do drugs, why does she drink? What is her problem? How can someone so beautiful have such problems?
That she is a manipulating calculating bitch who knows what she is doing turns the thing of childish stupidity around and her more of a product of her own doing. She is like a victim but she does it herself. Nobody is forcing her to become the sex bomb other than herself but sex bombing is the way for her to be seen and get ahead in her career. She gets to be noticed. There is interest in her, she is wanted to be seen, perform, asked to TV-shows, interviewed. What is the interest in with whom she is having sex? Sex is what gets us to be interested in her and how she is sexual in front of us, what she is daring to do and behaving ways most of us wouldn’t dare in public. To look at someone who is daring is a turn on, exciting and fun, a riot kind of boost. She is crossing a limit, stepping over and looking what happens.
Then we do not know the whole story and we start inventing what is she like and why is she doing what she does, what is her motivation, what is her problem, is she talented at all, what does she have what others do not. She is using us for her benefit, isn’t she? Seduction of come look at me, look what I have got, would you like to touch and have a piece of me, dream of me, just look at me. Tragedy is when sex bomb cannot be anything else even though she would like to. We don’t want her as anyone else but as that posing body wearing a tight dress and smiling face which is eternally youthful white pure but dirty underneath. All is told but nothing is said. Something remains the same and is like a circle. White blond bleached retouched lifted up tightened squeezed into erased immortalized repeated over and over again. Is she in trouble, is she the trouble, what did she do, who does she think she is? She is nothing and everything, she is diminished and made big. What a contrast and battle to have. How is it possible to stay in that role, keep that pose, keep that white and that form of body?

Blind boys running downhill. I really have witnessed it happening. Oh I have seen the Japanese garden. Fill in the blank, but I don’t think you’ll get the job, Motherfucker.

Elbows wrists, elbows wrists, a pornographic magazine under the loo carpet. Sudden movements and sighs.
Who is that flying through the air? Cover yourself itzy bitzy spider. Limbs breaking the brisk air.
Terrible cleptomaniac spent warmly days in the sun of love. (Don’t ask for permission just do it.)

Call me anything you like, Unemployed Hashtag, Ach Scheissenheit! I’m a real hipster. Which definition was quite a surprise to me. Definitely and it is forever, class and grace of knowing what to wear.