Tropic of Cancer – is a writer’s wet dream

3 of 5 Hardcore-Porn Stars – Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller.

Apparently, Henry Miller was the Hank Moody of his time. And if you don’t know who Hank Moody is, go watch Californication for fuck’s sake. He’s a fucking rock star of a writer. He gets all the pussy. Does all the blow. And he has a huge cock, like all rock stars do.

This book made me want to be a writer. I mean, many books have inspired me to write, but none other promised so much unending pussy. And anal. This book made the life of a broke and starving writer seem so bloody awesome.

But maybe it had less to do with the idea that writers get all the pussy, and more to do with the fact that this book is set in Paris, France. Because everyone knows that French girls are freaky sluts.

There wasn’t much of a story in this book. It’s not really a story. It’s just the rantings of a sex-crazed writer. I don’t know if you can even call it fiction, because it actually is the story of Miller’s life in Paris.

He sort of blends fact and fiction. Like yes, he did walk down to the corner store to get some milk. But he didn’t really get blown by a 14 year old girl on his way there. Those little details don’t really matter, do they?

It makes me wonder if any of the crazy sex in this book actually happened. I think it’s more likely that he didn’t get laid at all. He was just writing this book and started fantasizing. I mean, why write about how bloody depressed I am? How about writing about some girl fellating me, while I write this epic masterpiece? Yeah. That’s hot.

It’s funny to me that a lot of the best writers of our time are just glorified pornographers. Because that’s what this book is. It’s just porn, from beginning to end. Don’t get me wrong, it’s good porn. It’s literary porn. So you can feel all smart and stuff while you’re jackin’ it.

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