Friday, August 30, 2013


...this is the greatest reaction shot ever, and it's so versatile. it can be the default response to just about any situation going on right now or in the past or future in the news or pop culture as you spend your days on messageboards and chatrooms. you don't do that? oh. think about an event or happening in your life or in the lives of humans as a whole in which this pic of Will and fam would be the perfect response. please put it in the comments:


Wednesday, August 28, 2013



click on the pic above, get through to the center somehow, it's 3 of 4.

the world is dying, and me along with it

nothing to do now but wait ACT!!!

i can't wait any longer, my therapist is on a "long vacation"

from me

i'm on crack, not a cocaine plane, but a cracked plane of existence

and i'm addicted to the crack(ed) lens, i know no other way now.

new-found online lover, fix my cracks, be my glue, SOOTHE MY FRACTURED SOUL, CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE AT THIS LINK.

i want to write music, but the cool kind, the jammin' beats, the danceable industrial, the techno you hear on the first episode of the final two Cook Skins episodes, i want my songs to be the rhythm of the night for the cool, young club kids to lose themselves in and turn their noses up at the world with as they use their noses to sniff up the opposite of the world's rules: meaningless decadence.

no, that can't be it, i can't be another symbol of the hopeless and fun generation, too many other prophets of doom have left us too soon. i must strive to be different, but they strove to be different, too. i must be different from them, from anyone, be original, be so original that i invent a word that means "original" but is not the word original. my art must be against those that are against those that are against those that are against

but i need support, no man is an island, no healthy man anyway, an island needs the feeding waters of another soul, the glistening after-sex waters of a lady to cool, comfort, inspire, be the muse, the island dancer with the grass skirt and coconut bra, i'll bring the bananas, i'll bring my banana.

(white stuff) plane ticket? now? please? time is running out

my feelings won't stay this way forever, they'll splinter into unknown qualities and quantities

all the blogs are being shut down

there is nothing more to type

it was all typed before a billion years ago on cave scratchings

is one comment enough?

is it enough

to last for...i don't know...

to last for

one week?

to last 'til

the next time?

to last for




Monday, August 26, 2013


OMG, *scream*, i love them, both the band and the comic.

1. what act have you seen in a porn that you never tried but want to?: what's that thing? you do it with your tongue? licking? no, that's not it. kissing, yeah, kissing. no, no...oh yeah, it's introducing yourself, and then the whole pizza thing with the exchanging of the moneys.

2. a lot of porn is just old, tired remakes of old, tired ideas. it's tough to make porn creative because it all basically boils down to one thing. have any bright, new, actually original ideas that can spice up porn for the future generations?: i am all about the future, and yes, this is a problem which has beguiled me ever since i went about studying the history of porn seriously in college. no, seriously. i took a class with a group of beautiful women who were all gender-studies majors, and we talked and talked about these matters extensively in the classroom. and because life is a living classroom, we took a field trip together to a strip club...for research. ah, college. anyway, what were we talking about? oh yes, we discussed this during one lesson. it was decided at the end of class that the best idea would be to film a movie that combined the sweeping grandeur of Gone With The Wind with the requisite hardcore and shown cum shots. i called it John With The Sin...wait, i think i saw that last week.

3. whilst---i LOVE that, whilst, fancy, i want to say that at parties---our partners should be our one and only when it comes to mind-blowing, efficient orgasms, what's really making you see stars?: a) sex toys b) masturbation c) partner(s): without b, i wouldn't be here. well, i'd be here, but i'd be one frustrated blogger. c is my answer, my law partners give me great relationship advice, they've seen it all, they've seen everything in divorce court, y'know? i don't know what orgasms or sex toys are, but i see stars with my telescope.

4. did you ever cheat on your partner and the partner found out? would you want to know if your partner was cheating on you? what's your definition of "cheating"?: this is gonna make me cry. i would never cheat on my beloved, so much so i won't even venture a guess as to the technical definition of the concept. that goes against my religion, of which i have none. if my beloved was cheating on me, i'd rather not know, i would cry if i knew, i'd cry me a river...well, a pond with a lily pad at least. love is what makes the world go 'round, don't mess with this ancient magic, it will come back on you and turn you into a frog. then, you'll have to wait for a princess babe to kiss you to break the spell. contrary to the Tales, most single women whose Daddies are Kings don't generally like to hang out with frogs on lily pads at the pond, they're at the castle crib with the drawbridge and the moat hangin' out with that cute Hollywood hunk who looks like a frog, you know the one...

bonus: give us 2-3 erotic paragraphs incorporating the following words in your story(ette): magnificent, Nero, licks, hard, nipples. and no, you can't use them all in one sentence:

darn, it would have been such an epic sentence. storyette?

i am your slave. i am everyone's slave, i serve the People, i serve my Master, Lord Nero, i do what i do on the streets to get by. with a little help from my friends, i make it. but who are my real friends, and who love my body but not my soul? i want to earn enough to present a new, shiny fiddle to Nero. i hear it's his birthday coming up, or something about a doomsday prophecy, lots of fire everywhere, i didn't catch the details from the crazy guy with the sign barking on the street, i was too busy ruminating on who my real friends were. let's see, there's Carol at the flower shop, i'd like to lick her, but she treats me like her dog...then again, that could work...

a lot of the Goddesses we all worship and pray to are bodacious babes, but y'know, having a crush on your God is kind of weird. and can God really be your friend? name is Jesus by the way. Nero informs us that he is God now, and we should treat him as such forever by licking his toes and feeding him grapes. i'm tellin' you, i don't know what it is, but that kind of crazy hardens my nipples. maybe the only friend i need is ol' Nero. Nero, you magnificent bastard, i love the hell outta ya!

just got an official notice telling me to pack lots of sunscreen for the coming weeks...



Friday, August 23, 2013


okay, so Orangina has now hurt me both internally and externally. whenever i drink it, much like the pomegranate cider, i get so woozy to the point of blackouts, my sleep patterns are permanently disrupted. also late last afternoon, while trying to unscrew the bottle of Orangina, i cut myself on that stupid, tiny, undoubtedly-rusty metal bottle cap. i love Orangina, but we're going through a rough patch.


THEN, please answer the following question in the comments: what's on your phone?: football? futbol? other content?


Wednesday, August 21, 2013



click above to continue painting the series, 2 of 4

things are not getting better. they are getting worse by the day.

the heart can only pump tainted blood for so long, the lungs, empty air,

not the fierce wind so infused with the young trying to glean vibrant meaning from this life,

Cassie and her sad father, the seaside, the painting of the mother, now dead, the little innocent brother, on her final two Skins episodes.

no, and that is why i love TV so, it will always be better than reality.

at every turn, i want to hide from reality,

but what of those that provide this escape?

the young actor with beautiful eyes who takes his own life,

i loved that show he was on when i was a kid, it comforted me,

but there was no one to comfort him,

and the inevitable unanswerable questions, his fate, his final destination

as mysterious as life itself, as reality.


these are the blurred lines, "Blurred Lines", enjoying the uncensored Thicke video,

while the suing of a legend, i don't want to know messy details, i just want the easy lust.

why am i so fucking weak all the time?

i want to go back to sleep

and get back to what's real, my dreams, my dreamplace where i live,

my dreamspace where i dwell and think and act and read lines and film

my stories for my youtube subscribers to see, all 23 of them.

it's some semblance of me, a person who was here, who lived in reality.

can we finally stop with the blogging bullshit?

can we be together, finally, in reality, can we live our dreams?

you are my security blanket, i am your connection,

that is love in the modern information age,

too much information, i don't want to know everything about you.

you must help me, please help me, help me stay on the right path,

the road that doesn't end with a tragic headline

but a sacred secret one.



Monday, August 19, 2013


from the male TMITers!:

1. Advizor: i once overheard in a bathroom, "there is nothing as overrated as sex or as underrated as a good bowel movement." discuss: i completely and wholeheartedly agree. sex is, y'know. but number 2 makes me feel alive, makes me feel human. i recall two specific examples, one from tv and one from film. i believe this is from The Thick of It, it's been awhile, but the one where the assistant ponders over his going poo and realizes that this is the only thing he can control in his life, he looks down at it afterwards in the bowl and utters, "i made that." the other is from a fantastic indie film from a famous Swedish director, i'm sorry, folks, i don't remember the title or the director, but this was this auteur's first real work, his final-exam college thesis film about a group of young people living downtown in a city, Stockholm i think. it's very Woody Allen, it's women and men philosophizing about sex, love, the future. one scene really struck me. a suitor and his lady love are talking, walking in the snow, and he reveals to her that he loves taking a dump because that's his quiet time, that's when he can afford to block out everything and think. he becomes connected to his body during the act of pooing, he connects to his human functions and it allows him a glimpse into the divine, it threads him to the eternal in the stars, he is a human doing what comes naturally human, and he can in that moment space out and know God, the One who designed him to function in this way.

2. the late phoenix: hey, that's me. thanks, H!: friendship lasts longer than cumming. which of your online friends that you've never met would you like to meet in real life? which do you think you could become life-long REAL friends with? actual friends, like going out to coffee and movies with, gossiping with, kissing on the forehead, hugging, loving: sorry for the annoyingly long question. well: Atiya, Phair, Cheeky Minx, Juli, Kazi, Missed Periods, Hedone, these have been my good online friends for awhile now, i appreciate them all, it's so hard to maintain friendships online because everyone likes to abandon their blogs at a moment's notice. i feel bad if i left out anyone, it's not that i don't like you, it's just that my memory has been bad for years, getting worse with every day, Sanjay Gupta talkin' bout Weed and everything. let's just say this: i love EVERYONE i've ever come into contact with online, every single person, even those i haven't and don't. i have a dream...i have a dream that one day, one glorious day we will meet IRL and there will be the kissing of the foreheads...

3. John D Stories: in a parallel universe, who out of your blog or twitter followers would you most like to spend a steamy evening with? what would you do? why them?: no more parallel universes and time machines, i want it in this universe, this version of reality anyway that we know about for sure. Cheeky, yeah, it has to be Cheeky. i had twitter for two days until i unknowingly gave all of my followers a virus. i wouldn't do that with Cheeky, i'd be on my best behavior, nice and proper and clean. the safe dirty would come later. what would we do? well, it's a steamy evening, so...fill in the blanks, y'know?...water, heat, volcanos, nature, yeah, we'd be in white lab coats and goggles in a classroom studying steam. science is sexy. sauna? outdoor hot springs like you see in anime? maybe, if she wants to, i mean, i like to remain dirty and learning at all times. why Cheeky? 'cause she's cool...and hot like steam.

4. Virtual Sin: a) what method of stimulation (intercourse, toy, manual, oral) gives you the strongest orgasm?: i like my toys...if you know what i mean.

b) which method gives you the most orgasms?: i like my toys...if you catch my drift.

c) if the answer to a is different from the answer to b, what's wrong with your life?: i like my toys, ya feeling me? ha ha ha, man, i am so...i life...i'm a blogger,, bleh.

5. Jon Pressick: would you rather have a life where you only had sex once a year for 2 minutes or where you have to have sex every day for a minimum of 2 hours?: time is a human construct, it doesn't really exist. i want to live a life that matters. i want to have sex with a beautiful woman that i'm in love with. i want her to be my girlfriend and then my wife. i want to grow old with her. i want to write this seed of a sci-fi movie. i want to make enough money off the film to buy a time machine. i want to enter that time machine and go into the far future to see what's really out there. i want to fully feel, not just intellectually realize, that time doesn't exist, that it's a human construct, and thus i would be stuck in the time machine forever because it couldn't really fly anywhere because time doesn't exist. i want to be stuck in the Null Void with Who, i mean, with you...

bonus: Nero: is there anyone on your partner's side of the family that you find hot? if you could hook up with them without anyone ever finding out (ever!), would you?: i don't have a partner. i should've traveled in my time machine with a Companion, but there was, ironically, no time for that. now i'm in the Null Void. wait, what's coming towards me? it's a Fang Worm. it's a fucking Fang Worm! i thought they were a myth. evasive maneuvers! shit, it hit the corner of my time machine, i'm spinning in circles. i hit my head on the ceiling hard. make it stop! eat me, Fang Worm, stop my pain, stop my bleeding! the Fang Worm had me for its lunch. i'm dead. no more TMIT posts.



Friday, August 16, 2013


whatever happened to predictability? the milk man? the paperboy? evening tv? i know what. it's the internet. the internet ruined everything. the internet made the crazy sane. it also categorized every single magical moment on Earth into a link to click. the random became the known, and the predictable became the forced other. the milk man realized that milk delivery was obsolete so he went into television and invented that cartoon chocolate bunny you see on every commercial. the paperboy realized that there will never be anything good on tv so he strapped himself permanently onto the internet mainframe, wires in his fingertips, and he stays there forever living in a virtual-reality video game called Paperboy. evening tv? no more, doesn't exist, no more appointment television, no more gathering the family around the living-room set at 6PM for news and The Simpsons after. every show you could ever want is on Hulu in the palm of your hand on a tiny miniature device, whichever show and whenever you deem it time. your family is gone, they have no more time for your problems, they're too busy watching their own shows. the only dad you have left is Homer Simpson. why do i cry every time the Full House intro opening comes on? i mean, i never watched that show as a kid. it must be a trigger, it's a nostalgia arrow, it takes me back to when i was a child and life was happy and easier, when i didn't have to worry that the sun would decide to be random one morning and not rise, i wouldn't fret that my milk would spoil, that i'd miss my daily newspaper comic-strip funnies, and that Dan Rather wouldn't be there each night for me, Kenneth. my father chokes my neck, but it's cartoon violence, i know he still loves me. i've got a hankering for chocolate milk. my fingers have gone dead. is this the real world or the video-game world? no, don't tell me, i don't want to know...



Wednesday, August 14, 2013



click above on the cool photo to begin the new series.

am i underwater or floating in space?

it's a dream at any rate

but dream journals are so passe, no one wants to hear about them anymore

it's the one where i overanalyze playing sports for a living

and how weird that is when you think hard enough on it

i mean, your job is to play a game, to kick, punch, hit a ball, run

that's what you do all day, you hold a bat in front of millions of people

you deliver a shot that strangers hope you deliver

it's just strange

maybe it's all the blood rushing away from my head at this moment

sure my clothes are stained when i wake up

it just means i had a good time during the night


pro sports

i'm dirty from it

there's that head-rush of blood again


then i feel nothing

but the pain.


Monday, August 12, 2013


1. when you were a child/teenager, who was your favorite superhero and why?: i will always be a child at heart. then, now, and forever, the answer is PAC-MAN!!! i mean BATMAN!!! sure, i got my first taste with the corny Adam West version, i didn't know any better, but that was an important cultural touchstone for me, it was much better than people give it credit for, it introduced all the players and all the colorful villains pretty accurately and well, gave me my first Catwoman crush, and all those comic-book fights were very realistic to me, i practiced them alone in my room, that was my first real taste of being an only child and the realization that i would not live well unless i donned a cowl. i watched that show religiously with my sour-cream-and-onion chips until i was introduced to the brilliant, heart-stopping, breathtaking black-paper animation world of Bruce Timm and Batman: The Animated Series. folks, do yourselves a favor, i'm telling you, even if you aren't a Batman fan, a superhero comic fan, an animation fan, or a cartoon fan, WATCH this dark show, this entire series from the first episode to the last, it is simply one of the finest displays of mood-setting storytelling that exists in humankind. so after that, i was hooked on The Bat, i wanted to be an animator when i grew up. i have so many stories to tell, but what medium should i use? animation, film, youtube home-movies? let me know in the comments, and also tell me if you're more a sour or a cream.

2. which super villain is most like you and why?: i forgot his name, but do you remember in the show 24, near the end of the series, like the second- or third-to-last season, they finally had a character that was as badass as Jack but on the evil side, he could kick and punch on Jack's level and was just as ruthless? i was like, well fuck, finally a real equal for Jack, who hadn't really had someone like that in his life. then of course the writers ruined it early on when the two had their fated encounter and although dude got some licks in, Jack pretty much took care of him like he was another fodder ninja. i mean, come on! if they had combined this dude's fighting spy-operative with the supreme smarts of a terrorist mastermind, you really would have had an unstoppable 24 super villain...but you know, there's only so far the writers can go, right?...i mean, in the end, Good always must defeat Evil, Evil can never win. Jack's back, folks, are you excited for new 24? my blind prediction for the new season: Jack becomes a terrorist, a real one, not an undercover one, has to, it's the only thing they haven't done yet. and Chloe becomes Hit Woman.

3. if you had a superpower what would it be and would you use it for good or evil?: i'd take over all the computers in the world, turn into a giant robot, and get rid of all the spam in the universe. but, like any good story, my power and fame come at a price. all the humans love me for what i did, but i'm now made of metal, not flesh, so i cannot love anymore, i can't love a woman, well no sex anyway...turns out i can now only mate with spambots...but i got rid of them all, so...

4. do you own a superhero costume? when and where was the last time and place you wore it?: yep, Batman pajamas, i mean, i have a Batman costume complete with the George Clooney nipples. i'm just waiting for my Catwoman to come along and purr. or a Harley? Poison Ivy? okay, okay, i hear you, no more costumes, just please, i really need this, don't take me off Christian Mingle...

5. have you ever had a sexual fantasy about a superhero/villain? do tell: it starts in the rain. dark alleyway, lots of trash cans. my nipples are showing, poking out through my blouse from all the wetness. then it happens: upside-down Spiderman kiss...

6. who do you think is the coolest superhero and why?: Iceman. get it? when i was a kid, i pretended so hard to be like Iceman when he used his ice to form slippery pathways for himself to get around in, to travel, that was so fucking cool. i would go, like, whoosh, whoosh, ice path, traveling on it like an escalator, it was only the one small room so i banged my head against the four walls a lot...

bonus: you've been granted the wish of having a threesome with one superhero and one supervillain. whom do you choose and why?: why think small? why just a threesome? why not an orgy with all of them, good and bad, let's stop all the intergalactic wars once and for all, let's overcome our differences with the power of friendship. sure, comic-book sales would plummet, evil scientists' labs would be torn down for more Walmarts, no more skin-tight suits and spandex...Catwoman's now a cat-lady?...oh no no no no, wait, can i have my wish back?



Friday, August 9, 2013



they're all gone. they're never coming back. i am alone, again, as usual, forever. sometimes flaky is a good thing. i need new butter, new buttering up with compliments. the truth, and the cheese, must be stretched. friends are friends, whether bought or not. the world is too convenient now, too easy, too ready-made, too microwaveable. i need the real deal. i need real sustenance. i need to satiate my appetites. i'm thirsty. i need someone to talk to. i'm gonna call the pizza-delivery guy again...


Wednesday, August 7, 2013



click above on the back of the card to leave the series unattended forever as you travel to parts unknown.

"time for you to wake up."

"what? what's this? did i fall asleep? i don't remember."

"that's your problem. you too easily let things slide, you don't try anymore, you let things be, you accept the status quo with your inaction, you rely too much on your past accomplishments, you..."

"okay, okay, jeez, my next card is..."

"i'm getting this through since your family can't or won't. you bank too much on your past report card full of As and your hard work when you had a structure in school. ever since the laxness of college, where for the first time you were away from the rigidness of Mom and Dad and spaghetti always at 6PM, where you actually had to plan your schedule of classes, your major, and the rest of your life, you've let the world happen to you instead of taking the world by the balls and actually injecting yourself, your force into the air."

"after that motivational poster, i can almost overlook the fact that you're a demon."

"words are words, the source doesn't really matter, what matters is how you intake advice and use it towards your own happiness. all the isms borrow from each others' playbooks all the time to achieve their ends, either as an inspiration or as something not to do. why do NFLers study film? they are actually witnessing how the quarterback threw that line-drive spiral through their defense so as not to allow that hole next time, they are armed with their opponent's golden move now, they know the other team now better than the other team knows itself, they can predict because they now have their opponents' tendencies in their brain's back-pocket. knowledge is power. they play to win the game."

"why do NFLers do anything? because they can. they have the money. they have the prestige. or it's for the love of the game or something."

"have you ordered Season Pass on your cable yet? are you excited? are you ready for some-"

"football? of course, i'm a man, this is how i live, without football, life would be painfully dull. go Browns!"

"sure, good luck with that."

"hey, what happened to the table? where are all the cards? it's midnight, huh? it's very dark here and seemingly all around, and the only two sounds i hear are our two voices. i must have dozed off."

"you chose your final cards an hour ago, remember? i quickly ran through their meanings because the final 3 aren't important. what's important is right now, doing something right now."

"what? i don't remember any of this. did you drug me? what were the cards?"

"oh for fuck's sake, we don't have the time. here's a quick recap: number 1 was the umpteenth cat card. you remarked how your cat doesn't just meow at you, he whines, it's like a meow with his mouth closed. i thought that was cute, you thought that was cute, and we moved on. the second had an image of DNA on it. you remarked how on HuffPo on the same day you read two articles, one on how scientists had discovered a possible actual Adam from the Bible, a link of genetics from all the people in the ancient world that could have originated from a single strand inside one human male, our Earliest Ancestor, and the other discussing the latest developments with the God Particle. you asked me how these two diametrically-opposed theories could both be existing, and i replied, "yes" or "both" or something, and you got mad. you followed up cheekily with "nature or nurture?", to which i replied "a blend", and you tried to bop me one. you landed an open fist on my nose. i forgave that 'cause it was an open fist. then you took a strange stance and attempted to flying-roundhouse kick me. i attributed that to you being irritable from lack of sleep. then you insulted my mother, and that's when-"

"that's when i conveniently blacked out and now i can't recall a thing and just have to trust that what you're saying is true. oh well, i mean i'm still here, alive, so it's not the worst thing. then again, maybe if i did die-"

"see, this is what i mean, your default reaction back to negativism and fatalism. it has to stop, this rut you're in is eternal unless you grab the shovel i'm offering and dig yourself out of it, but YOU have to do it, no one else can. i could possess your body and do thigs to you, i mean, have you do things, but it would be me, not you, my ghost, not actually you doing these things---night school, first date in ten years, doggy-paddling---and that's no fun. i don't want to doggle-paddle anymore, i'm done with that shit."

"i know, i've been doing this for so long i've lost count, i've lost track of time. it's just what i do, what i fall back on, it's my ready excuse, i've been doing this for, years, hmmm, wait, how old am i?"

"you don't know?"

"i think i'm in my thirties, but i'm not sure. haven't had a socially-relevant birthday party since 8th grade when they batted on me instead of the pinata and Susie said she was going steady with Brad's Perfect Hair and not my frizz. after that, like you mentioned, when college came, it was just an opening for me to laze around forever and just do nothing for the rest of my life. i was now the free captain of my life's ship, but instead of relishing the freedom, i took it as an opportunity to close myself off from the world and enter into a kind of perfect solitude, to be the loner i thought i was destined to be, to not have any attachments, to be free in the sense that i could now disappear without any consequences."

"but see, there are always consequences no matter how carefully you try to avoid entanglements, and despite Washington's warning of such. you can't completely shut yourself away into a box, a studio apartment with no phone. there are always people around you, in your circle, folks you have to deal with, there's always your family, you're stuck with them forever-"

"and i love them, but-"

"it's not enough, huh?"

"no, i need a woman. is it as simple as that i'm merely a boring mama's boy?"

"maybe. it's worth exploring."

"what was the final card?"

"again, being the final card wasn't important, it just happened to be the last card. this whole thing has been a red herring. i got you up into this tower's spire really to drug you, i mean, to mold you into a person that can do something in the world. i don't so this with everyone, but you're special. you have unlimited potential, you just need your eyes opened and a great big fucking push."

"why am i channeling Bowie right now?"

"it's coming back to you. the last card was a heart, but if you looked closely enough, it was a tin heart signifying artificiality. after a dual rant on the evils of Valentine's Day we both shared, you were reminded of THIS SONG, CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE AT THIS LINK, and you mellowed for awhile. i got scared because it seemed your drug stupor was wearing off, music really does soothe the stoned beast, huh? see, magical writing keeps its magical power through the ages. i continued by informing you that valentines are useless, humans do not understand what love really is, it's a corporate holiday, and you can't bottle up Love, Love is the last hope, the final battlement against my Boss's Ennui and Cynicism, for fuck sake you can never buy Love, you can only hope to understand Love the Inscrutable. also, instead of buying roses and writing on valentine cards, how 'bout saving all of those trees and keeping the plants in the nourishing ground by doing away with the holiday altogether? it's a win-win-win."

"so what's the endgame here. what was all of this for?"

"you have to decide what you're gonna do with your life. who are you gonna love? you've got to get the fuck out of here."

"wait, what's up with all this drug paraphernalia scattered about in this room? Elvis bong? was this really just a ploy to gain a drug buddy by force 'cause Satan won't let you smoke tree?"

"well sure, that's one thing. also, crystal, it's safer than doing it alone, less fear of explosions, super-reinforced stone here in this castle, no one will hear the screams, at least you won't die alone kind of thing. look, remember, the message, not the messenger."

"you've got issues. don't try to project them onto me-"

"hey, that's my line! what the fuck are you gonna do with your life?!"

i shook Guy by the shoulders with all my force, the force of an an entire thirty years (or so) of a wasted life all burning through, dying to be expressed. i looked into his sallow, drugged eyes for the first time, i had never really looked at his eyes, i always bantered with him from a safe distance, i actually tried to avoid looking at him altogether and talked to his shadow, me falling back on my shyness as usual. they were the eyes of a defeated man, defeated spirit. whoever this person was, this agent of Satan or God, this angel trying to get his wings, or a trickster desperate to grab my sold soul so he could keep his job, the fact was i felt sorry for him, he didn't seem in control of his life like me, he was taking the drugs for some reason, people take drugs to escape, he wasn't having any fun, he was clearly under the boot of another, he was not his own entrepreneur, he had to do this, and i had to say this:...

i was calm despite everything, i wasn't constantly agitated, i was serene, this time had passed and i grew from it, it wasn't the usual wasted time, i was busy thinking forward, not back or in interminable circles, this was nice, it was something different from the norm, it allowed me to speak, to converse, not just to react alone, i bounced ideas off of another, people need people, people who need people are the luckiest people in the world. i was feeling feelings that weren't all downers, they were thoughts of accomplishment, pride in one's words and philosophies, and empathy, empathy for a demon. now how fucked is that? but it's just like my life to find empathy in the strangest places. strangers are just friends you haven't met yet.

"...what the fuck am i gonna do with my life? Buddy, guy, i've been trying to figure that out my entire life."

"i don't know."



Monday, August 5, 2013


1. what's your dirtiest secret? although i enjoy a good artichoke heart, i secretly eat the artichoke's inedible leaves with the pointy things on them. look up "Artichoke Sex" by Suzanne Somers.

2. what's the sweetest thing you have done for someone? built them a house...a Lego House...just this past summer, i mean, kindergarten, yeah, kindergarten. i'm not a geek or anything.

3. what's your favorite foreplay act to give and receive? give: i love licking on a woman's sweet, tender, tastes-like-candy vagina until she cums bucketloads of clit juice. receive: whatever leads me to ending up cumming bucketloads into her mouth, whatever comes before, i'm game: nippleplay, whips,'s all about the joint release...and if you sneak in a good movie like 300: The Next One in there, that edifies the mind.

4. state five facts about your body:

* i'm skinny as a rail, railroad conductors laugh at me during their lunch breaks.

* my calf muscles despite twenty years of continuous strengthening work actually curve inward i'm that thin.

* i gave up on perming my frizzy hair so i just shave it once a month, but i'm still not gonna wear the pale goth makeup.

* my ears are big, the kindergarteners used to call me Dumbo, but now that i grew into my adult face, i see my ears are just fine. of course now my head is big........that means a whopping 3 THREE different things! joke's on them, i live comfortably in my Lego House.

* i have the biggest cock that will ever be.

5. would you like to fondle the person next to you? yes...just let me put on my virtual-reality headset...and glasses...and press the button and...

bonus: penis or vagina? why? vagina...'cause sticking your penis in donuts is just jelly donuts, that's another, it's still not the same...



Friday, August 2, 2013


bad day? bad week? bad month? bad life? destroyed a lifelong friendship with a couple strokes of the keyboard? the person who finally guaranteed you happiness is now gone in a puff and in a huff? a bad day versus a good life, a momentary lapse versus continued online fun, like sands in the hourglass, you're drowning in the sand trap, and she had the only vine that could get you out in her bag.

you're contemplating whether or not to continue typing...

laugh, smile, enjoy, at least you have a television to look at, at least you're not starving...oh...well...maybe you are starving for something: