Starfire #7

Am I the only one who thinks dirty thoughts when I see Starfire's index finger glinting?

I don't have any thoughtful things to say about the death of David Bowie. I never needed him. Just like I never needed Kurt Cobain. Or whomever people laud because they inspired people to be themselves. I suppose if Gonzo the Great ever dies, I'll break down and become the same kind of mess as fans of Bowie and Cobain. I do wish I could have appreciated David Bowie more but I just don't feel intense connections to people I don't know. Or people I do know. I do feel that with cats though! I was sad to hear that he died in a way that was more sad than when I usually hear a celebrity dies because I think we, the public, knew him more than one can usually know a celebrity. He did what he did not because of a well though out public relations plan to garner as much of an audience as possible to increase his wealth. He did what he did because that's what he was going to do no matter how many people fell in love with it. It's why I mentioned Cobain as well. They're artists that I didn't need and never fell in love with but I can appreciate from a distance. There's still a chance I'll fall in love with David Bowie sometime in the future and be incredibly sad that I didn't feel the same thing when he was alive. It's happened before with Walt Whitman (except for the part about him ever being alive while I was alive. It's just I never needed him and then, one day, I found a large percentage of what he wrote makes me weep). I don't think it will ever happen with Kurt Cobain. Lemmy wasn't on the list either (although he might be closer to my true hero, Gonzo, than any of the others). But there's a definite chance it'll happen with David. "Starman" and "Life on Mars?" are already indelibly printed on the earworm of my brain thanks to Walk Hard and American Horror Story: Freak Show. And I once wrote a parody of "Space Oddity" for one person, my friend Doom Bunny, whose brother once stuck him in a garbage can when he was little. You might already be seeing the parallels there.

In memory of David Bowie, this commentary will just be an hour of silence. So leave the page open for an hour and shut the fuck up.

Okay, you know what? That's probably a bad idea. Maybe I'll just say "fuck" less than I usually do.

Previously in Starfire, she made out with a dolphin and now she can speak it's language. Lucky dolphin.

That's a lousy fucking definition of time, you ignorant strumpet!

I'm not using "strumpet" as an insult in the previous caption but just as a factual noun that is based in fact and is a noun. Ignorant is sort of an insult but mostly justified in that she defined time as "a thing that prevents everything from happening at once." How could everything happen at once simply because time didn't exist? I mean, I'm not going to orgasm at the same time I stick my dick in somebody's mouth? No wait. That's usually exactly what happens. I'm sure I can think of a better analogy but I'm bored with this train of thought now. Let's move on to the next step in the logical progression of cause and effect which is changing the fucking subject.

Sol is in the Dolphin Friend Zone! Which isn't the worst place to be positioned in Starfire's life because she did suck face with the dolphin already.

Who thought "sucking face" was a good description of kissing? I bet one of the Universal Monsters coined it, right? Maybe the Creature from the Black Lagoon?

Starfire misunderstands some more English because she's cute and innocent but also provides complete sexual satisfaction which is what all heterosexual guys really want. They want a woman whose personality they can ignore while projecting their own idealized personality onto the woman while the woman performs lots of nasty sex deeds to their body like, um, touching the water willy or readjusting his faulty stabilizers. Heterosexual women might also want that but I wouldn't know because I almost always simply hear what I want to hear when a heterosexual woman is speaking to me. Although I think woman just want a guy who is able to take care of himself and also has a satisfying cock that works perfectly with her vagina. Although sometimes the cock part of the deal is so good that women will put up with a guy who obviously needs a mother. And a car. And a job. On the plus side, he'll already own the video game system and probably the bong.

Starfire and Sol are headed out to dinner on a sunset cruise ship. Also on that ship? Some spy! The reason the spy is important? Dick Grayson is after him! Uh oh! It looks like Dick is going to get in the way of another woman's sex life! He previously ruined Barbara Gordon's deflowering when he crashed Alysia's wedding. Now he's going to spoil Sol's chance at dolphin sex.

Uh-oh! Now Starfire knows how to speak "playa"!

Sol likes to think about his dead wife when he makes out with hot aliens which seems a little weird. Maybe he doesn't like to do that but his brain makes him do that anyway. It probably has something to do with mourning although I don't regularly think of my dead cat Judas when I masturbate. Yes, the "regularly" in that sentence is important.

All hell breaks loose thanks to Dick Grayson and the spies he was spying on. It's confusing because I think the artist screwed up and made Dick in disguise get on the getaway boat when he really didn't. Unless I'm just terrible at reading comic books which I don't think I am or else why would somebody have given me the title of Grandmaster Comic Book Reader.

"Somebody" includes "me" so it's accurate.

Starfire recognizes Dick even while he's using his Hypnos so they're probably going to fuck. I remember a time when the New 52 was new and I was really excited to find out how Dick and Kory knew each other and what kind of relationship they had and how many different positions they used. But now all of that has worn off like the hymen on a man's ass after a drunken night in a San Francisco Turkish bathhouse. Some of that previous statement might have a few factual errors but you still might understand the sentiment.

Starfire helps Dick retrieve the briefcase he was after by floating above him while she watches him fight and fingers her clutch purse.

It's called "having an orgasm." I think.

Starfire blows Dick. Stupid period. You don't belong there! Stop ruining my sentences for a cheap laugh! Hmph. As I was trying to say, Starfire blows Dick's Spyral mission by destroying the gadget he was after. It was something that could be used as a weapon so she did the right thing. Dick knows she did he just doesn't want to get the kind of tongue lashing he's going to get from Matron that is different than the kind of tongue lashing he wants to get from the Matron. You know the kind! The kind that involves his butthole!

And then Starfire and Dick Grayson decide to relive their Marv Wolfman days.

But...you know...with better writers.

Starfire #7 Rating: +1 Ranking. Let's face it: sex sells. I think. Is that really true? I mean, I know it sells in places like Las Vegas and Reno and Tijuana. But does it really sell products that have nothing to do with sex at all? Why would people see a commercial for golf balls that stars two men fucking in the shower in the club locker room and think, "Yes! I need Titleist!"? Maybe I should stick to saying things I know are true instead of cliches like "sex sells." Although if I only wrote true things, my commentaries would simply be the name of the comic book and one sentence that reads "Scott Lobdell's writing is awful." Would posts like that, two to three times per day, hold anybody's interest for very long? I for one can't get enough reminders of how horrible Scott Lobdell's writing ability is! I wonder if somebody sells a 365 day calendar of that?