Why I Only Fuck Men Whose Pulp Fiction Posters are Framed

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to realize that the men I choose as sexual partners reflect my own values in so many ways. In the past, I might not have thought twice before sleeping with some manchild whose idea of decor resembles a college dorm, but now I only fuck men whose Pulp Fiction posters are framed and not just stuck to the wall like some kind of teenager.

 

As we get older, we learn what we value. Even though it’s taken me a while to learn what I deserve, I’m so glad I came out the other end as this smart, self-loving person. Now, when I enter the apartment of a suitor and see his 24” by 48” framed poster of Uma Thurman smoking a cigarette in bed as the centerpiece of his living room, I’m glad to be in the company of a man who takes care of his things. It’s a telltale sign of maturity and honestly, a major turn on. You may be thinking, “Isn’t it a red flag that this adult man owns a Pulp Fiction poster at all?” That’s a valid concern, but ultimately his careful framing of this $12 poster he bought online shows that he’s committed, as does the fact that his favorite movie hasn’t changed since he was 14.

 

 

I definitely don’t want you to think my new lifestyle is all good all the time. Once I walked into the room of a would-be hookup and saw he had a local newspaper clipping from when his little sister won a regional spelling bee just tacked to the wall above his desk. I got out of there faster than you can say “Blessed is he who, in the name of the charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness” because my feckless days of unframed decorator banging are far behind me. Framed and mounted Pulp Fiction posters are my shepherd, and they lead me to fuck men who, when asked about the gratuitous use of the n-word by white characters in Tarantino movies, reply, “He’s, like, best friends with Samuel L. Jackson!” Haha, works for me!

 

While some people might be thrown by these men’s dedication to a universally liked film by an overrated, problematic director, I am simply amazed that he cares enough about his home to hang any framed item in it. And ultimately, my Tarantino-loving men and I have a lot in common! We’re both kind of, sort of trying our best.

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