A Producer and his Shrink

from Postcards From The Edge

by Carrie Fisher

It's starting to get on my nerves that I have this reputation for being sexually compulsive. I like sex a lot, I admit it. But, you know, I like food a lot, too, and nobody calls me a foodaholic. I just don't like that people are always putting a label on you.

Women expect you to come on to them. It's like, if I didn't, they'd think I was a fag or something Impotent. Well, it's not like I couldn't handle it if somebody thought I was impotent but I don't like the idea of people thinking that...

My dick wants what it wants, and then I want what it wants... You know what I'm talking about. I see a woman mailing a letter; and I see from the way her breast is curved under her sweater that there's no bra and I want to bend her over a car and have her. You know, you see these movies of prehistoric people who just bend people over and, Bam! I wish it was like that. It's an appetite men have as mammals, damn it. I've always meant to do some more reading on it.