I’m trying to put a face on impulses I get, instincts and instructions handed down from the reptile part of the brain. Sleep, screw, fight! Obviously it starts when I get these impulses but I think they’re popular or they resonate because obviously I’m not the only one who gets them. I think everyone (or at least every boy) gets a Hormone Fairy at about 13 or 14, and I’m still trying to figure out how to make him shut up. Of course I can’t because they’re very well ingrained motivations, going all the way back to primitive man. But now that we’re Civilized we’re supposed to ignore these impulses, because they do not contribute to a productive society. Howitzer Cannonpants does not sit well in traffic. Puberty is mostly the process of learning to ignore them and getting the job done in spite of them. And when you’re done you reward yourself by being TVBoy on your lazy Sunday; or letting your Hormone Fairy out for the night with your lady friend.
I think they’re all wearing boxers or otherwise very little because they come from an internal space, hopefully they don’t get out much. And of course they’re unaccustomed to getting out of the house; they’re very exposed being seen in public like this.
I’m letting them out so you can play with them here, but it’s just a print. When this is over I have to pretend to be Civilized again. And I’ll get up and put on my slacks and code-approved shirt and go to work, but all the time there’s a Hormone Fairy perched on my shoulder, reminding this is not what I wanted to do today.
We could be on our way to Mexico right now, he says. And we could be doing body shots of luscious Latinas before sundown.
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