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Monday, September 24, 2007
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 YOUR SOUTHERN CAN IS MINE: REFLECTIONS ON THE MEG WHITE FUCK TAPE
I'm sure that there's been a woman in every man's life that he's been deeply attracted to but could never pinpoint exactly why. These women are rarely as beautiful as, say, Halle Berry or Selma Heyak. They are seemingly ordinary in every way but there's something there. Perhaps the fact that you can't put your finger on it adds to that mysterious appeal.
For me that woman is Meg White, the drummer for the White Stripes, even though she is the very definition of ordinary. Okay, that isn't entirely true. She has truly magnificent breasts. She's not unattractive, but she's hardly the type that you'd see on the catwalks of New York and Milan. If anything, she's the kind of girl that would get fourth billing in a porno produced by a San Bernadino biker club.
Having said that, there's something about Meg that causes a pounding throb in my crotch that is at once troubling and comforting. Such a sensation has always felt like home to me and is one of the few remaining things that reminds me that I'm still alive.
And when I read this morning that a fuck tape that may or may not feature Ms. White had leaked on the Internet that pounding nearly killed me once and for all. You know as well as I do that a better way for me to shuffle off my mortal coil does not exist, but I guess that it just wasn't my time.
Instead, I was spared by my penis, perhaps because it knows that I was born to chronicle such a film for you. I know that being a chronicler of celebrity fuck tapes isn't the highest of callings, but it appears to be the only thing I'm actually good at. Was I not the man who warned my humble audience of the horrors within the Screech fuck tape? I still view that as my greatest public service. I'm like John Wayne with a powerful grip and, no, my mother couldn't be more proud.
 I think that I actually believe that the woman in the tape is in fact Meg White, if only by her horrid taste in men. Jack White is among the creepiest men in modern music and almost shockingly asexual besides. The man possesses a level of androgyny that Marilyn Manson has aspired to for over a decade. This has only been reinforced by his bizarre experiments with facial hair that serve only to make him look like Michael Jackson. I wouldn't be at all surprised to learn that Jack White had actually been euniched as an infant.
Meg's carnal co-star looks sleazy in the most pedestrian way. If anything, he looks like a head injured John Mayer and how can you not hate John Mayer? My initial impression was that this gentleman wouldn't seem out of place being interrogated by Chris Hansen. And that first impression was by far the most favourable.
More shocking even than the Meg White's disasterous choice in paramours is how timid the tape actually is. If this is the cause of the anxiety that forced the White Stripes to cancel their tour and forfeit millions of dollars, then Ms. White is almost supernaturally modest. Running less than three minutes - a sad circumstance whenever it occurs and something that is always the fault of the male partner - it isn't a performance to be proud of, but it certainly isn't worth abandoning one's career over, either.
I've long dreamt of the day when I would see Meg's bountiful bossoms denuded of that annoying red t-shirt she seems to favor (link NSFW), and I wasn't disappointed. Verily, those are knockers for the ages, milkbags that will forever be noted in the Book of Life. I suspect that they'll be the "rosebud" that haunts me to my dying breath. Also, she appears to be aware of the value of a Brazillian wax during any romantic encounter. I love all women who fuck on camera with only the satisfaction of my demented libido on her mind, and I would gladly see her nude again in any venue she chooses.
 Which brings us to the performance itself. Note: This link leads to the video and is decidedly NSFW
Have these people never heard of forplay? Are they afflicted with some allergy to oral sex that medical science has yet to bother itself discovering?
Perhaps I was raised better than most men, but I wouldn't dream of merely mounting a woman from behind and aimlessly pumping away. My friends, if a young lady deems you worthy of a visit to ber boudoir, you should repay that kindness by ensuring that not one of her orfices is left unexplored by your tongue, fingers or both. A very special lady once told me that a woman is a delicate flower and I've known since childhood that delicate flowers should be cherished and devoured ever so slowly. On an unrelated note, did you know that opium is a delicate flower, too?
Indeed, Meg's anonymous lover does shove his fingers in her mouth, but only after he has insterted himself within her nether regions and commenced his amateurish thrusting. This is the sort of lovemaking that one would properly expect from a high school sophmore or an aspiring date rapist, not the lover of a beautifully breasted international rock star.
If I were ever filmed giving any woman such lackluster coitus, I would imagine the only way that my honor could be restored would be a very public suicide of the sort made famous by the Japanese and R. Budd Dwyer. One can only imagine what would happen if someone dared give Courtney Love such a remedial fucking. Blood would be spilled and it almost certainly wouldn't be the Widow Cobain's.
The greatest tragedy of this sad documentary is that not only does Ms. White accept such a substandard rogering, she actually seems satisfied with it! When I first saw her look of carnal gratification and heard her gasps of bliss, I could feel my heart breaking. I had thought such women existed only in fairy tales or had been long ago incarcerated for setting their pathetic partners on fire as they slept.
 Worse still, Meg has at least one orgasm at this fool's inept ministrations and perhaps two. And the one that I'm sure of came when her fuck buddy had grown weary of his demonstration of banging for beginners and took his proper place on the bottom. At that point, I became fully disgusted with my penis and everything it represents.
For that reason, this video is worthwhile if only for its educational value. In it we learn that Meg White is the white tiger of undersexed women. We spend our entire lives hearing about them but never expect to see one in its natural habitat. Now you can. And like most things in nature, it isn't as wonderful as you'd been led to believe.
When I had started the video, I did so knowing that I would pretend that the stars were myself and the lovely De. But within seconds I knew that I could never subject someone so precious to such a tawdry underfucking. I just don't have it in me.
It was fully twelve hours ago that I first saw this tape and I haven't stopped weeping for Meg White since. People at work were starting to stare.
Update: Meg's "people" are denying that it is her on the video. If true (and those shills lie for a living), I'm happy for her, but sad for myself. Nothing ever works out my way, godfuckit.
Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Your Southern Can Is Mine By: The White Stripes From: De Stijl
PermalinkLabels: Celebrity Skin, Fuck Tapes R Us
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