Stealing Home

Ages since I really posted, feels like. So much to say but so hard to get started.

I'm 35. Lately more than one girl has told me they thought I was 27 or 28. I'm going to use this to my advantage as much as possible as long as I can.

I went to the office supply store the other day and there was a cute girl behind the office services counter. Slender, maybe 115 lbs, 5'7", only cuter. I gave her the eye and she gave it back. I think she was so young and inexperienced that she didn't even realize that she had let on that she found me attractive. She sauntered over casually and I did my "I'm so shy because you're so beautiful that it makes me tongue-tied" thing. She blushed and was really cute about the whole thing. I cracked some pretty good jokes and made her laugh, then let her catch me looking at her for just a moment, then I'd look away. I'm going to draw her portrait, then bring it in and give it to her, saying that I thought she was really beautiful and that I don't want to seem weird or anything but that I just had to draw her picture, and so, um, what's your name? I guarantee you nobody has done anything like that for her ever before. She'll be thinking about me the rest of the day, and in the car on the way home. I'm pretty sure I won't even ask for her number, I'll just say "Seeya." She'll be dying to know when I'm coming back. I'll have to get my brain back in shape and out of this fog, so I can make myself hold out til just the right number of days before coming back in.

Don't worry, honey - it'll be a roller coaster ride, but when it's all said and done, when you weigh out the pleasure and pain, you'll be glad you went for a ride. They always are.

~

I pulled that 22 year old chick. I knew I would, I just doubted myself. I shouldn't doubt myself.

I got my professional photographer friend to collaborate with me and I made her a pretty involved art project, then sent it to her work, folded into an envelope around a CD I thought she might like.

Needless to say she was surprised, flattered and ecstatic. And she loves the music. Now she has given me her cell phone and turns on her webcam to show me her room and so on. We're going to meet on October first, at a famous L.A. nightclub. Her male roomate's band will be playing there.

I tell you what, though. She's a slippery one. She plays hard to get and expresses very little interest in me, or in talking about herself much either. I feel lured in and because my mental state is weakened due to being in hermit mode the past 9 months, I have a hard time running game corrrectly. Still, I know I'll persevere. My goal is a kiss. Though, as I was just typing that, I decided I wanted more than that. I want one kiss, and her heart.

Where Oh Where

Where do I start?

Well, tonight I somehow surfed across a prostitution site, oh sorry, I meant "Escort Site". It featured some porn stars, and some of them had Yahoo or Hotmail address for contacting them, so I added them to my buddy list. Sometimes I chat them up, it's interesting to me.

I noticed Gabrielle Banks on there. Here's a picture of her from a couple years ago. She looks in ok condition at this point:





Now check her out:



I guess coke or speed will do that to you.

Whenever I have a big task ahead of me I tend to balk at starting. Even if it's something fun I put it off. I'm always sidetracking myself.

Remember that addiction specialist I wrote to, asking for help? The one who is listed on the A&E channel's website for the show 'Intervention'? She never wrote back. How professional is that, to have a webpage where the email address doesn't even work, and then when I got her webmaster to fix it, she didn't even write back a "Sorry, can't help you" or "I received your email and will respond later" or "Can't talk now - write me back later." What a crock. There's a code of ethics for doctors, but apparently not a code of business ethics. What a flake.

My wife and I watched Intervention tonight. It was a follow-up episode where they showed what happened a year later, to some of the people who had been on the show earlier. It was great seeing the crack addicts have their shit together a year later. Then there was this one guy, a compulsive gambler, who I just knew would be on the show and who I knew would have failed.

He was a child prodigy, IQ of 156, graduated UCLA at age 14, taught molecular biology at I think UCLA, after that. As a teenager! It showed clips of him from back then; man what a dork. Bad haircut, and he has one to this day. During the episode with his intervention he was a MANIAC, I mean a complete raving nutter. Screaming, whining, manipulating...

Unfortunately he reminded me of me. I could see all these negative traits we share. So unlike almost all of the audience watching that show, I know what was going on in his mind. And seeing him being such a piece of shit reminds me that I must be just as much of a piece of crap.

Sure enough, a year later, he had failed. Since I too was a prodigy, and because I'm a lot like him, it was easy for me to see when he was being manipulative, even when it was probably invisible to the audience.

It really makes me wonder whether I can turn it around. I suspect I can, because I have before, kind of. I just need a system, and probably some medication.

I found some guy with a blog, ahh fuck I'll write more on this later. I'm beat.

It Stresses Me Out To Have To Think Up Titles For My Posts

I'm sick so I won't write too much right now, plus I am going to try to be productive today, but,

First off a friend of mine I met online, I met him face to face for the first time, and his girlfriend, about 4 weeks ago. She's 23, cute, very smart, a scientist. He's 35, works as an audio/video guy for a tech company.

She was not really my type. Face didn't do it for me, but would for some I guess. Boobs didn't do it for me, they were B-cups with no enthusiasm. Neither did her ass, not enough bump in the rump.

Anyway she lives down here and he lives in northern California so they don't see each other much. I noticed they weren't very demonstrative at all, when the three of us were together.

Anyway after 3 weeks or so, he told me to message her on instant messenger; she wanted to talk to me or say hi or ask me a question or something. I flirted a little, of course. The subtle (and some not so subtle) compliments, and so on. Within a few days she was really opening up to me, the next day, commenting on the things her boyfriend (my friend) does wrong. Now she wants to hang out. What's that about? She knows I have a wife and kid.

More

So much more to type... but so tired, shouldn't push myself to stay up. Will write more tomorrow.

Some early warning signs and symptoms of psychosis are:

• Changes in thinking: Difficulty in concentrating, poor memory, preoccupation with odd ideas, increased suspiciousness.
• Changes in mood: Lack of emotional response, rapid mood changes, inappropriate moods.
• Changes in behaviour: Odd or unusual behaviour.
• Physical changes: Sleep disturbances or excessive sleep and loss of energy.
• Social changes: Withdrawal and isolation from family and friends.
• Changes in functioning: Decline in school or work performance.

Remember: none of these symptoms by themselves indicate the presence of schizophrenia or another mental illness. But if they are severe, persistent or recurrent, professional help should be sought as soon as possible.

Life is what you make it

I feel like my whole life is a fucking struggle with very little pleasure or reward. Always has been. Oh sure there are millions of people dying of starvation and other stuff all day every day but it doesn't change the fact that I'm unhappy. I can count the times I've felt happy overall, in my life.

My wife is fucking unbelievable. Every day I wake up acting happy and nice toward her and she opens her eyes and starts yelling or bitching at me for one thing or another. Mentally I say "Fuck it! I'm outta here." I go either do my projects or get on the computer or just leave to do something elsewhere. She claims she yells at me because I'm always doing the above things but it's total bullshit. I can take her wherever she wants, or stay home all day off the computer and being attentive, and no matter she'll still act like a total bitch. Sometimes she apologizes later and says she's a horrible wife and so on, but that doesn't make me feel any different. I just say "Ok. Thanks, love you" and think, "Yeah right, I'm just waiting until you do it again tomorrow."

She constantly takes the wind out of my sails and saps away all motivation I have to do anything. Finally when I can barely pick my head up she decides she was wrong and that I should go do what I wanted to in the first place. Yeah, right. Like I have the strength to even go outside after that. She won't rest until I'm her bitch, basically.

That Armenian chick my friend is screwing, tells him "A man shouldn't eat the same meal the rest of his life. Men need variety." She's talking about staying faithful. I swear to god my friend is demented for not marrying her.

My first real girlfriend

My first girlfriend and I started when she and I were 13 and 15. She was a beautiful Arabic girl who had been molested by her father, his brother, and their father. Her smile was so bright that it made you want to see it again and again, so much so that it turned people into addicts and codependents. It just made you feel so goddamn good to see those brilliant, even, white teeth, those cheeks, and those twinkling eyes. One time we were walking in the city and found an ice cream supply business, a place that sells large quantities of ice cream and popsicles to ice cream trucks. It was a hot day, and we asked whether we could buy one item, not a whole box. The heavily accented proprietor was so smitten by her beauty and felt such a rush just looking at her, that he laughed, a real belly laugh. "HO ho ho! You are SO BEAUTIFUL! Ha ha ha!!"

Her father wanted her to date no-one, of course - and especially me, a non-Arab. He was mad with jealousy and possessiveness. She'd sneak out of the house and get in trouble, over and over.

Peter Jennings

i should request a nuclear missile stike to destroy People Magazine. Cover headline says:

BRAVE LAST DAYS
Family and friends remember the anchorman's life and his valiant battle with lung cancer

Brave? Valiant?
er... how brave and strong was he to be a lifelong smoker?
Took real grit to do that
He's a regular Lance Armstrong


Maybe it should say "Smoker Dies of... Lung Cancer? Who Knew?!"

Double Play

What's it been, 7 months? Since I mentioned the cute Thai waitress I miss from that local restaurant. Well, my wife's friend came over for sushi tonight. I went to pick it up. No wedding ring.

At the sushi joint was that same cute Thai waitress, and another, even cuter one of unknown ethnicity who I had seen and flirted with before when I picked up solo one time with no ring.

I asked the Thai one, "Didn't you used to work at ______ ?" She was surprised I remembered her; apparently it's been like two years. I turned on my serial killer charm and charming criminal smile and told her, "How could you expect me to forget you?" She blushed deeply and that easily, boom, done. Got her. Or should I say, she got me. Or so she thinks.

Most guys pride themselves on getting digits. That's not enough for me. I'm on a level so advanced, I make them offer ME their phone numbers. They don't even know I'm controlling the game from above.

I told her she had changed her hair since it didn't flip out at the ends any more, but that it looked nice this way too. She didn't say anything, just blushed even more furiously. Just figured it couldn't hurt if I locked it in even more firmly. Sometimes I impress even myself.

testing 123

So anyway the other waitress of course saw me chatting up the Thai one and making headway, so it made me even more desirable to her. When the Thai one disappeared into the back I approached the cuter waitress and gave her a bit of the "I haven't seen you here lately, I was looking for you" coupled with my raised eyebrow, innocent-schoolboy-getting-into-mischief-and-am-I-caught?, aka angel-with-halo-caught-in-my-horns, smile. It was a perfect lay-up to the net, and she caught and returned the ball with "You should have called me, " with the same smile. I played totally innocent, which made me even more irresistible: "Why would I know your phone number?" [shrug]. She blushed and scribbled it on an empty ticket. Perfect alley-oop into the net! The crowd goes wild. I really am a god damn sight to behold when I'm in action.

ATTENTION FEMALE EARTH HUMANS

RESISTANCE IS USELESS!

~

I stumbled across this guy's blog. He thinks he's really duplicitous. Here's a quote:

"I do a lot of work with young people. It is a very rewarding experience and the teenage boys are always amazed to discover just how much I dated. I tell them I was single for a great many years, which is true to some extent. I just leave out the fact that I was very promiscuous. Again--this is a study in duplicity, yah?"

You call that duplicity?? To me that's no different than answering "No" when one gets asked "Honey, does this dress make my ass look fat?" I'm not putting him down or glorifying my own multiple lives but boy does it feel like much ado about nothing to me, reading that. I'm the one with fake driver's licenses with matching fake car registration to stick in the glovebox in case a date girl goes rummaging around in my glove compartment when I'm in the liquor store or something; a second license plate to keep them from doing a background check on me, untraceable cell phone and a reason why they can't come over to my house, all that.

I've got my relationship with my wife, and my relationship with my friends where I tell a couple of them a little about my relationship with my wife and they know I'm something of a ladies' man; then another, different relationship with each of my side girls. One of them is a romance thing, another is a kindred spirits thing, another is a sex thing where she wants me to be domineering and drag her into the car or a motel or her home and pull her pants down and her shirt up and do whatever the hell I want with her. The hornier I am and the more voracious my appetite for her body, especially when I just tear her clothes off and gorge myself, the wetter she gets and the harder she comes.

But, I don't have much of an appetite any more. Not lately. Not for a great long while. I'm going to see whether I can stop taking care of business on my own and whether it makes me hornier. After as many orgasms a day as I'm used to, I bet I start getting wood left and right like an embarrassed schoolboy.

~

Anyway for the record I didn't want those girls' phone numbers. I just couldn't not get them. Like walking past a low-hanging sign and not reaching up and high-fiving it to see whether you can touch it. C'mon - you know you have to.

Besides -
They offered them to me.


.

Million Megs of Porn

I had sex with my wife for the first time in 2-1/2 years last night. Not straight intercourse, just oral. Basically we were laying in bed watching TV and she decided she wanted to get something started. I didn't want to but I knew there would be big repercussions if I rejected her once again. So I went along with it.

To be honest it really made me feel gross. I just am not comfortable with her sexually, not at all any more. My brain was going a mile a minute trying to call up something that turned me on, and I finally settled on this one part of a movie I have of Bridget Powerz, aka Bridget the Midget. She's a dwarf and a now ex-porn star. She doesn't have the usual facial features of a dwarf - the wideset eyes, the bulging forehead, the broad nose, etc. She has the face of an absolute angel, a truly classic beauty. Carve it in white marble or onyx and it would be another Venus de Milo. But then, the same could be said about so many women's faces.

After my wife got off I went downstairs to the computer and watched the scene I had been imagining. I am under the impression Bridget lives either locally or in Florida now, not sure which. I keep wondering what she does for money if she's not in porn any more. Does she still strip? Does she turn tricks? Does she get ongoing money from being in a couple of major motion pictures (S.W.A.T. and a couple others)? What's she like? Could I meet her and become friends and get some casual sex from her? Is she all diseased up?

I did my award-deserving internet research and got some info on her, and on the guy who runs her website. As long as I was in there I grabbed all the pictures of her that were in his private folder on his hard drive. Oops! Thank-youuuuuuu! I got addresses, phone numbers, what other things he's had his hands in, etc. I could befriend this guy, then get to her, through him.

This is how my mind works. Fuck.

Sometimes I use my powers and then act on these things, like I did with the Domme or with the chick who fucked the dog, but other times I just fantasize about it and never get around to it.I'm glad I usually don't, but I also usually don't get around to doing what I want, either, like getting back to making tons of money again or doing projects or getting help or enjoying life.

Naturally all the information I gathered on Bridget went into my folder for her, which is relatively small since there's not a lot of porn out there with her in it - I "only" have 715 pictures and movies. Other folders for stars who have done more work, like Taylor Rain for example, contain 10 times as much data - about 7,100 pictures and movies. Just on that one star. In total, I now have about 1,000,000 megabytes of porn - a terabyte. It's filed in about 2,500 folders. Well, partially filed. Half of it needs to be sorted and filed. I guess I'll do it later. That seems to be my motto. Ugh.

Something To Remember You By

Sometimes I'm so forgetful I can barely function. It's like I have Alzheimer's. Been that way all my life; when I space out I forget the overall context I'm operating in. Like, imagine if I were an alcoholic and decided to quit drinking, did a whole bunch of thinking and planning about it. The next morning, I'd wake up and start drinking and not even remember that I was supposed to have turned over a new leaf. Two or three days later I'd go "Oh yeah! Shit I totally forgot I wasn't supposed to be drinkin'!"

That same thing happens to me every day. I make all sorts of plans and decisions and promptly forget all about them. I made a To Do list and was all jazzed about getting going on some stuff I had to do and other stuff I wanted to do. That was 8 days ago and I just now remembered it. Fuck.

A Friend Indeed

My friend has been screwing this Armenian chick. He lives in Northern California and is my oldest friend who I'm still in contact with. I have talked to him literally almost every day on instant messenger and email for the past 20 years (yep, we had all-text instant messaging and emails in the pre-internet era). I guess he's my best friend even though we don't get along that well. I know I can trust him with certain things, like if I had a vault full of gold, jewels, and money, and gave him the key, I bet he wouldn't take a dime, not in a hundred years. But he's grumpy as hell, very negative, very quiet, and totally uptight, always has been. His dad is a raging alcoholic and I'm sure that's mostly why. He says things like the other day he was taking a back road and saw his dad's car parked by the side of the road with his dad in it, asleep. He tried to wake his dad up but couldn't, since he was passed out and reeking of alcohol. Or last month when his dad was standing there in his house and just fell over onto the ground, then tried to play it off by propping himself up against the wall and acting like "Oh, this is a comfortable place to kick back."

I see him once a year at most because we're both always working or just don't feel like making the trek to each other's part of the state.

Anyway, he's never done well womenwise his whole life; never really found a girl he clicked with where it went both ways. His last girlfriend, her mom was married three times and each of the three husbands ended up leaving her for gay men. That same girlfriend cheated on her old fiance with my buddy, eventually leaving to move in with him. Then she started cheating on my buddy - he didn't know it or admit it, but there was a reason she was at work til 3 AM - so he proposed marriage. Then she left him for the guy she was cheating with. Talk about repeating patterns.

He's been dating internet chicks here and there but says it's a total bust. Anyway, he's been screwing this Armenian chick who he just totally doesn't understand and doesn't even realize it. She has a husband but they're separated. She fucks my friend but has always said she doesn't want a relationship and especially not to get remarried. Me being something of an expert on women, I told him, "Translation: She wants a relationship." He totally didn't get it and claimed I was dead wrong based on what she says being totally contradictory to that. He even told a mutual friend of ours that when we lived near each other (15 years ago) I had zero game. Man oh man is this guy in for a surprise, I thought. Just you wait.

Anyway, sure enough, after two months she starts yelling at him for not saying he misses her when she's away, and starts asking him "Don't you wish I was your girlfriend?", and starts telling him "If you don't want to get serious about me then I'm going back to my husband." I told him, "See?!"

Anyhow, she was going to come down here to L.A. to visit some friends and relatives so he came with, to visit me and a couple other of his friends. My wife and baby and I met up with the two of them last night and had dinner and walked around this real ritzy outdoor shopping area in the city.

First off she's pretty hot. Tall girl, around 5'7"-5'8" but of course wearing small heels so closer to 5'10". Not fat, but a nice big ass and thighs, decent tits. Pretty face in an alert and interesting way. Medium-to-longish dark brown hair, big dark eyes, big juicy lips, and straight & even white teeth.

Second, she's very intelligent and quick-witted, and could hang each step of the way with my humor. We totally clicked and were riffing off each other's jokes. It was all I could do to pay attention to my friend and my wife just to hide from them the instant chemistry between me and the Armenian chick.

The whole night I was staring at her ass as she walked, thinking about what a great lover she must be and how if there were some way we could hook up that she would jump on the chance in a second. Don't even think about doubting me or telling me I'm making an assumption - this is ME here. I know women. She may as well have been wearing a signboard, it was that obvious to me. When you've been studying women as long as I have and spent as much time every day analyzing all the data as I have, the commonalities become very evident. It's like how experienced doctors can recognize illnesses from symptoms, or how psychologists can predict all these things about a person based on them identifying which personality type a person is. The best analogy for my understanding of women is like how an FBI profiler can even predict amazing things like how a serial killer will leave a body near open water or what sort of job the guy probably has.

Anyway, naturally I was wondering how to get her email address, instant messenger name, how to find her on a personals site, and so on. I instantly ran through some scenarios of how to do it. And I was wondering whether she'd take me up on the opportunity or whether she'd rat me out to my friend as a cheater (on my wife) or as a backstabber (to him, since she's sort of "his"). And I was also wondering whether I even really wanted to.

On that last point, it was like, have you ever been looking at something like a slice of pizza when you're not hungry any more, or are even full, and yet, looking at it, you want the good taste so bad you can't even stop yourself from eating it? Even if you don't want to? That's how I feel about her.

And man what I would do to her. I know exactly how to treat a girl like that. My friend is doing a pretty good job but totally by accident - he told her "Ok, fine" when she said she only wanted to have sex and not a real relationship. And when she threatened to go back to her husband if he DIDN'T start a real relationship with her he said "Ok, fine." That works on this type of girl but not anywhere near as much as going back and forth between romance yet pushing her away.

And in bed, mannn oh man, I know exactly what she'd want. Passionate kissing, grabbing her hair and controlling her, taking her over my knee and spanking her, grabbing her hips while we're fucking... it would be a great time. What a wildcat.

Anyway it just served as yet another example of how screwed up I am.

Feedback From Female Friend

Interesting points. Thanks for writing, too. As far as being a sex addict and not a porn addict, on the one hand, I agree, but on the hand, I disagree: I don't even think I'm a sex addict, I think I'm an anything addict. When I curtail one addiction I just apply my same addictive behavior to the next thing, anything to escape. Even when I was just a child I'd get caught in these mental ruts over anything - reading, listening to records, playing video games, you name it. I'd keep going and going until it was 5 or 6 a.m. and I was about to get up to go to school. I wanted to stop, but couldn't. Strange. I think that thing in my earlier post about Parkinson's drugs that are dopamine agonists, causing compulsions, ties into my A.D.D. : You see, dopamine "helps the brain control motor functions and movement and possibly to perform other functions related to mood. An imbalance or shortage of dopamine can cause brain dysfunction and disease." So, as we saw with the Parkinson's drug, some people whose dopamine balance is juiced up, have compulsive behaviors. And people with A.D.D. have too much natural brain activity. I think it all ties together.

On your other point about "Sex addicts look at the world from a sexual perspective because it is sex that gives them the pleasure and release from the stressors of life. It's possible you don't even know that you appear that way to other people, even through email," well, I know I can appear that way if I'm reckless about hiding it, but when I can keep my thoughts focused enough to hide it, I think I do pretty well.

The pro photographer chick did write back. She was terribly apologetic, and said she sucks at returning phone calls and emails. She also said she has a problem with alcohol and is worried it's getting worse.

The guy I was/am going to trade massive amount of porn with, he wrote back too. He has been out of town on business, not home with his porn collection. He wouldn't care if I did come across as a sex addict; he's an addict too.

And the tall 22 year old chick, she wrote back too, and gave me her phone number.

For the moment, I'm batting 1.000

Yappers

I was posed a question: "i find real women untouchable if they are bereft of intelligence and/or personality. the last thing i need is to have someone yapping in my ear about reality television and nail polish. how do you get around that?"

That's an interesting one. I'll start back one step. As I said, talking about my addictions to that girlfriend of one of my best friends (not the Armenian girl, another one and another of my closest friends) really clarified things to me, because instead of just knowing a certain overall thing, I really had to simplify things in order to explain them to another person. In so doing, it simplified things for me.

For example, one of the things I told her is how I find that I tend to see women one of two ways:

1. To love them deeply in a sisterly way, where I no longer can take them seriously as a sexual person. Meaning, like, if they were to try to be alluring to me, instead of it seeming hot and enticing, it would seem more banal and off-putting, as if they were a prepubescent child vamping it up, trying to act like a woman.
   
   And also, if I were to try to act sexual toward them, I'd feel completely corny about it. Since I let them see sort of the "real" me - as I see it, I guess, which is part of the answer, I just realized - then I'd feel like I'm trying to act like some macho men if I were to act sexually toward them the way I do to the other category of girls. And I'm afraid they'll ridicule me for acting like that.
   
   
2. To love them in a romantic way, where I see them and myself as sexual. I feel totally comfortable in my Casanova side where I say gushy romantic stuff and make them swoon, or when I make eyes at them and so on. And I feel comfortable in my Don-Juan-in-the-bedroom role, where I'll have my way with her however I please.
   
   Yet at the same time, I'm not comfortable being the childlike me with these women. I'm afraid they'll ridicule me for showing my immature side.
   

Anyway, the answer is: with the women who are the reality-show watchers and nailpolish talker-abouters, it only works if

A) they are really hot, by which I mean, sexually, not necessarily lookswise

and B) if they keep their mouth shut.

LOL!

I'm serious though. If the communication is strictly sexual, it's not evident just how incompatible they may be. Your brain fills in the blanks, and/or it just takes what it sees at face value. I'm talking about deep, reverberating, pulsating music in a dark club, where the two of you can dance and show each other how great you'll be in bed. Or making out in the car in the rain, or on the beach at night. No talking, just sexual compatibility.



Boy I'll tell you what, though - I totally agree. That one mistress I've had for the past 1.5 years, the Mexican... I'll have to write the story about that one, and the night we spent on New Year's - our first date - it's straight out of a movie, I swear. It was like being on drugs, it was that surreal.

Anyway, I fell madly in love with her for about 6 weeks I think it was. After that, one day, I fell out of love with her so hard that I wanted to break it off completely. I believe it happened when we were on the phone and she was telling me some story about some people I don't even know. She is extremely intelligent and extremely intuitive - really it's quite spooky, she's that good; it's like ESP - but she was going on and on just doing a massive brain dump of all this extraneous and quite boring information. I could barely understand her as it was, because her sexy accent is so thick, and she was laughing and speaking so rapidly and about so many strangers and about such an uninteresting (to me) anecdote, that I had just no idea what the hell was going on. I began daydreaming and just saying "Uh huh" and "haha" and "Man" and "really?" over and over, while thinking, "Oh my god, I have GOT to get out of this situation."

More to come tomorrow; I just finished roughing out another whole post.

Bad Lands

"It is perfectly possible for a man to be out of prison, and yet not free - to be under no physical constraint and yet to be a psychological captive"

- Aldous Huxley, Brave New World




Well, somebody left positive feedback:

I appreciate that. Hell, I like almost any comments. My stat counter shows that I get a lot of people reading my blog, but I never have written about that til now because I don't want to scare people off if they are worried I somehow know who they are and so on.

Anyway, comments usually make me write more. I kind of fell into a slump there last motnh where I just wasn't interested in writing and had so much to say that I didn't know where to start.

Also I've been reticent because I've told a couple of friends about my blog and I've gotten some regular readers, who contact me, so now I feel semi-self conscious about what I write. But I think I need to work on changing that, and on just being open about being me. What else am I going to do, go underground and start another blog from scratch and don't tell anyone about it?

I've also told a couple of friends about my problem, but not about my blog. Interestingly, talking about it and explaining it, really helped me realize what it really was. Until that moment it was just a big blur of lust and attraction and pining away for women and the thrill of the chase and of being the James Bond of Casanovas and alter egos. But describing it made it much more clear and compartmentalized. It made it easier to see my prob more simply and from afar.



I had a really bad day the other day. I should have written about it. I met this really cute chick, fairly skinny and tall (5'10"), with giant natural boobs. A side note here - 'skinny' doesn't mean good or better. And 'big boobs' doesn't mean good or better. Nor does tall. Skinny with big boobs is just one of the many enjoyable flavors of women. Other days I like (meaning, "cruise for porn for," or use my archives) big, thick women with BIG asses and big natural tits, big thighs and soft tummies, a slight double chin and chubby cheeks. Other days I'm interested in girls with tiny tits and big butts (a tip here for the hunters: Latins). Other days, skinny girls with little fried egg titties, A-cups or smaller. And what I personally never like are fake boobs. The more obviously fake, the more I dislike them.

Just for fun here's a list before I get back on topic. I'd attach pictures but that's kind of a hassle right now, what with Hello™ keeping a history of uploaded pics (this creates a security risk for me with the wife). These are all porn stars, I won't list personal acquaintances and objects of affection of mine:

• Big tits, big ass: Laura Lion, Christie Parks, Gabrielle Banks, Ornelia, Gina Vice, Sierra, Olivia O'Lovely, Loni, Fawnna, Dina Jewel, Jade Darling, Scotti Andrews, Tera Patrick, Tianna Lynn, Destiny, Rebecca Bardoux, Misty Mendez, Mallory Knots
  
  
• Small tits, big ass: Kaylynn, Kaylee, Dana Vespoli, Lana Sands, Tabitha, Jasmine Byrne, Jasmine Lynn, Lauren Phoenix, Ashley Long, Tolly Crystal, Olivia Saint, Alex Dane, Genevieve, Vanessa Rubec, Malaysia, Blair Segal, Nikita Denise, Brianna Blaze, Britini Bi, Bridget Powerz aka Bridget the Midget, Crystal Ray before she lost weight, Dru Berrymore, Fiona Cheeks, early Francesca Le [you got it - boob job :( ], Gia Regency, Haley Banks, Inari, Jade Marx, Jayna Oso, Sabrina Jayde, Gisselle, Shayla Heart, Selena Silver, Elizabeth Lawrence, Sandy Style, Roxanne Hall, Shelbee Myne, Sky Lopez, Stephanie Swift, Tavalia, Taylor Moore, Teagan, Leannie Lei, Precious, Papillion, Nikki Dial, early Nici Sterling, Monique Demoan, Nautica Binx, Lena Ramon(e), Karen Kam
  
  
• Small tits, small ass: Eva Lux, Katie Gold, Candy Apples, Allysin Chaynes pre-boob job (what a shame), Celeste Masters (another shamefully ruined pair of A-cups), Bridgette Kerkove pre-boob job (another shame), Claudia Adkins, Lena Juliette, Apen Brock, Mariah, Autumn Haze, Ashley Moore, Vanessa Chase, Brandy Lyons, Chandler, Debi Diamond, Daisy Dukes, Melissa Milano, Donna Marie, Donna Warner, Dynomite, Felony, Fiona Bones, Fiona Love, Tami Ann, Sabrina Johnson, Shelby Belle, Spring Thomas, Syren, Taylore Rain, Jenna Haze, Kacey Buy, Kimi Gi, Jeannie Rivers, April Flowers
  
  
• Big natural tits, small ass: Laura Sparkle (I hope those aren't fake). I can't think of any other porn girls that fit this category. I can think of a few in real life, though.
  
  
• Girls with fake tits I can deal with because they have big butts: Kiki Daire, Shyla Stylez, Ava Devine, Fujiko Kano, Bella Donna, Bamboo, Kianna Dior, Brianna Banks, Candy Cotton, Candy Roxxx, Davia Ardell, Donita Dunes, Francesca Le,Harley Raines, Heather Lee, Houston, Ryan Conner, Raylene, Latia Lopez, Mercedes, Kristi Myst, Krystal Steale
  

Anyway, back to my bad day. This new chick seemed really into me. In an earlier post I wrote,

The other one is really interesting. She gave me her yahoo messenger screenname, and I typed that name into Yahoo Profiles and saw her profile, on which she had a link to her blog, which had her real name and place of work and pictures of her parents and sister and so on. It's like she hides nothing. Very strange.

Her profile states that she's not the one, if you're looking for love. She says she just wants to experiment but I can't believe she's not bombarded with tons of guys of all ages trying to fuck her.

I feel kind of threatened in a way because I'm 35 and not exactly up on all the things a 22 year old would know about, which is pretty much the latest bands and styles and slang. Not being into the same bands is no big deal but not ever having heard of a big-name modern band is kind of a black mark against ya. Not being up on style is a bigger no-no, and not knowing current slang, or using old slang, people can find that weird. It just shows how much older you really are.

So now I feel weird 'studying up' on what the world is like for younger hipsters, because

1. I like to be myself
2. I don't like to feel like everything I do is contrived
3. It's crazy thinking that I'm old, because I still feel like I'm 23 in many ways.

1. I think if I'm just myself she'll dig it more, but that takes a lot of balls. You have to be prepared for people to not "get" you, especially younger people, at which point you lose them.

I find her intriguing because, why would she openly give out personal info to guys she meets on an adult personals site? I wonder whether she just knows it's unlikely that many will come by her work and stalk her, or whether she doesn't care, or what.


Well, she stopped responding to me on messenger. That was the first bad thing.

The second thing was, I had contacted this guy on a BDSM porn forum who posted some really good stuff. I had emailed him asking whether he wanted to trade porn via FTP. He wrote back and included a giant, INCREDIBLY organized spreadsheet listing what he had. I mean this guy had exact file size, Production Company, "line," content, movie name, you name it. Amazing. And he had tons of large and/or complete movies! Amazing. The holy grail of porn. Anyway, he said he'd love to trade and that he didn't even really care about whether I sent him as much as I downloaded, just that we both got some stuff off each other. Sweet! Anyway I wrote back and then didn't hear anything from him. I did notice he was posting porn links on the forum though. What the fuck?

The final bad thing, I contacted this local chick about camera stuff - I didn't even want to hook up with her. I could tell she was about 45-50 years old and a nice person. For over 20 years she had been a professional news photographer so I wanted to pick her brain. Everything was going great, we were responding via email back and forth. I used a fake name so she and the other people on the camera forums wouldn't do an internet search for me and find out who I was and so on. No big deal. Also I can post whatever I want and look like an ass and not care.

So everything's going great, and I'm thinking, I can really learn from this chick. I hadn't mentioned that I was married, not sure why. I always do that, too. I wrote about it earlier when I said something about how I never tell women I'm married even if I'm not really trying to get something going with them, and that I do it because I think they won't have anything to do with me if they think I'm not single.

Another noteworthy point is that, remember that chick I wrote about who is an Emmy-winning news producer? I asked this new chick whether she knew her and she said Yeah, she's one of my faves, give her my regards. So I'm thinking, cool, this new chick must know I'm for real... except, what if she calls the first chick and that one says "He claimed he was working, whaddya mean he's not working right now?" or "He said his name was (real name)" and so on. So now I'm a little worried about the whole thing.

Anyway, things were going well, and then I asked whether she wanted to meet and talk and that I wasn't trying to come onto her or be a sleaze. She didn't respond, so I wrote back, hey, I really am just trying to b.s. about camera stuff, not be a sleaze, I hope you didn't make you uncomfortable, and if you want, let's just be friends over email and let me pick your brain from time to time. She wrote back, ok, cool, yes I did feel a little uncomfortable, but thanks for straightening that out. Then she continues, so, tell me more about yourself, what's your job, etc, married, kids, etc?

I was really at a crossroads and I decided, why not, I'll tell her the truth. So, I write back, yes, I thought I told you already that I'm married and that's why I said I wasn't trying to be a sleaze or trying to hit on you. One kid, here's a pic of the kid, here's the kid's name, here's what my wife does for a living and here's her first name, blah blah. I just yakked on, and then asked some specific questions about pro photography since I'm interested. Signed, Your Friend, (fake name) (same name I use at motels, hehe).

No reply. But she's posting to the forums. Wtf? Maybe she's working on a long reply for me.

I wait a few days, then write back, "Did you get my lengthy reply?"

No reponse. What the fuck?? It's like all I am good at is picking up chicks, not making friends with them.

Anyway all three people were blowing me off - 22 year old, big porn stash guy, and camera chick.



More to follow, in fact, I've started roughing out an answer to the question about how I get around the women bereft of intelligence and/or personality, the reality television and nail polish yappers.

More

Not to mention, porn is just one manifestion of my problem or problems. If I don't stay up all night looking at porn I'm looking at camera stuff or any other damn thing that has struck my fancy. And if I'm not on the computer I'm up all night watching HBO or listening to music, and if I'm not at home I'm out chasing women, which tonight I saw once again that I am pretty damn good at. We went to this local cultural celebration type thing and I got so much play from so many girls. It was ridiculous. In sixty feet of walking, three very beautiful and hot girls, and three or four pretty ones, practically threw themselves at me. It was tricky not being spotted doing my thing with them, but what can I say, I'm an expert. Some girls say I'm handsome, but I'm not sure I believe it. All the girls I pull, though, say I have bedroom eyes, and I believe that. It must just be the vibe I send out. The "You will love fucking me" vibe or perhaps the "You will fall in love with me yet I am a Lothario" vibe. Maybe it's just that really good part of my spirit deep inside. Who knows. But after thirty-something years I am finally realizing that I really AM a fuck magnet and the more I admit it the more ass I get. In a way I'm trying like mad to get all the girls I deserve and that I didn't get over the earlier parts of my life, and in another way I'm trying to do it just to get it out of my system before I get old and bitter that I didn't fuck all these delicious twenty- and thirty-somethings, and yet in another way I'm trying like hell not to fuck up at all and to just get over it and not eat my heart out the rest of my life.

But back to the subject at hand. The porn is nothing, it's just one of the infinite diversions that get me. What a moron that person is who left the aforementioned feedback.

Feedback

I got some cool angry feedback from some moron:

"This is such a load of crap. If this guy really gave a shit about his problem, he would just stop. 30 days off of porn and his head would be on straight.

Come on, lets stop kidding around: either admit that you have dont care and plan on continuing to fuck up your head by looking at smut, or knock it off."

It's great when people actually believe that addiction isn't real and is just an excuse for a fondness for something.

My wife used to be the same way, and maybe still is, to some extent. She would tell me that anyone who wanted to make their way out of an addiction or a ghetto, if they really wanted it, they'd do it.

While that's sometimes true, sometimes there are people that do want it but don't know how to break the cycle. Other times there are people who would like to but aren't even aware it's possible. But mostly there are people who are too despondent to even get the energy up to consider persevering.

And all the rest are addicts.




I shake my head at but also laugh at these people who think there are no addicts. These are the same people who use their own logic to explain how the world is. But they've got it backward: they need to look at how the world is and accept it. If they can understand it, fine. If not, too bad, their idea of what makes sense (like anybody being able to quit an addiction if they just "really want to") doesn't change what's REAL.





The other day I once again tried to go to sleep at like midnight and wake up at like 7 or 8 like a normal person. But I stayed up all night, went to sleep at like 6:30 and slept all day. During that time my wife opened literally every window in the house and every door but the front door. Naturally I became sick and have been for the past two days. She knows this happens to me every time she does this, without fail. When I brought it up, you know what her reply was? Not "Oops" or "Sorry" or anything of the sort. It was, and I quote,

"Well you shouldn't have been sleeping in the daytime."

Great. Thanks. And you're pissed at me??

Daily Buddhist Wisdom

Even as rain breaks through an ill-thatched house,
So lust breaks through an ill-trained mind.

Even as rain breaks not through a well-thatched house,
So lust breaks not through a well-trained mind.

-Dhammapada 13-14

From "365 Buddha: Daily Meditations," edited by Jeff Schmidt.

Study ties gambling to Parkinson's drug

One American with Parkinson's disease went from being an occasional gambler to racking up losses of more than $100,000. But within a month of discontinuing one of his medications, he stopped betting and his relieved wife told his doctor, "I have my old husband back."

A patient with no history of gambling became so obsessed that he lost more than $200,000 in just six months. When he curbed a drug, his habit faded.

Another man turned into a compulsive gambler who stayed at casinos for days on end and was "unable to pull myself away from the tables." And while on the drugs, the Parkinson's sufferers became obsessed with sex -- one went from having sex once a week to four times a day. Two ate compulsively and one drank more.

The dramatic behavioural changes are outlined in a study published in yesterday's on-line edition of the journal Archives of Neurology. Like previous papers, the research concludes that medications known as dopamine agonists -- especially Miraprex -- trigger pathological gambling.

"It's very striking, this temporal relationship between the initiation of the drug and then the beginning of the behaviour, and then the discontinuation of the drug and the discontinuation of the behaviour," Leann Dodd, a psychiatrist at the Mayo Clinic who led the analysis, said in an interview. "It's suspect, that's for sure."

This year, an Ontario man with Parkinson's launched a class-action lawsuit after losing $100,000 gambling while taking Miraprex, which is the trade name for pramipexole.

Dr. Dodd stressed that a very small number of patients on the class of drugs become compulsive gamblers -- one study found the behaviour in 1.5 per cent of people taking Miraprex -- and that the side effect can be reversed. One of the patients said discontinuing the medication was "like a light switch being turned off."

The Mayo Clinic study examined the cases of 11 patients who reported problem gambling after taking dopamine agonists, that mimic the effect of dopamine, a brain chemical that allows the body to move smoothly and be co-ordinated. Nine patients took Miraprex and the other two took Ropinirole.

Of the 11 people, seven became pathological gamblers within one to three months of reaching a certain level of medication. The other four reported compulsive gambling between 12 and 30 months after beginning the therapy. And six of the patients, the study says, also developed other behavioural changes, including compulsive eating, drinking more, higher spending, and increased interest in pornography, extramarital affairs or a higher libido "bothersome to the spouse."

Eight individuals' pathological gambling was resolved when the dopamine agonist was suspended or decreased, the study says. Follow-up information was not available in the remaining three cases.

Earlier this year, Boehringer Ingelheim (Canada) Ltd. asked Health Canada to change Miraprex's patient insert and product monograph to include warnings that it may cause compulsive gambling or changes in sexual desire.

New Breed

Well, I don't even know where to start, about my vacation. Slash, hell.

Anyway I'm talking to two new chicks online. No idea why. Partly boredom, partly for sexual satisfaction, partly because I feel compelled to and can't stop myself, and partly out of wanting to seize the day. I've held back on written to girls on online adult personals sites before, and then they cancelled their membership so I lost the opportunity and was pissed at myself. I don't want to feel like that any more, so now I'm being more proactive about hitting them up.

Both are 22. One of them just mentioned she has a boyfriend so this may be a good sign that she has no interest in a relationship. I don't really feel all that interested in knowing her; there's no real spark there and she doesn't seem like all that special of a person. Cute, though. One of her profile pictures is her ass covered in cane marks so I know I can do almost whatever the hell I want to her.

The other one is really interesting. She gave me her yahoo messenger screenname, and I typed that name into Yahoo Profiles and saw her profile, on which she had a link to her blog, which had her real name and place of work and pictures of her parents and sister and so on. It's like she hides nothing. Very strange.

Her profile states that she's not the one, if you're looking for love. She says she just wants to experiment but I can't believe she's not bombarded with tons of guys of all ages trying to fuck her.

I feel kind of threatened in a way because I'm 35 and not exactly up on all the things a 22 year old would know about, which is pretty much the latest bands and styles and slang. Not being into the same bands is no big deal but not ever having heard of a big-name modern band is kind of a black mark against ya. Not being up on style is a bigger no-no, and not knowing current slang, or using old slang, people can find that weird. It just shows how much older you really are.

So now I feel weird 'studying up' on what the world is like for younger hipsters, because

1. I like to be myself
2. I don't like to feel like everything I do is contrived
3. It's crazy thinking that I'm old, because I still feel like I'm 23 in many ways.

I think if I'm just myself she'll dig it more, but that takes a lot of balls. You have to be prepared for people to not "get" you, especially younger people, at which point you lose them.

I find her intriguing because, why would she openly give out personal info to guys she meets on an adult personals site? I wonder whether she just knows it's unlikely that many will come by her work and stalk her, or whether she doesn't care, or what.

~

In addition to emailing girls I was going to wait forever on, I'm trying to do more things like that too. Looking at myself I see that I'll prepare forever, I'll put off the good stuff forever, in favor of 'seizing the day,' so to speak. I'm trying to change that; maybe if I do it enough, I can change the basic tendencies of my thought processes.

I saw a bit of an independent documentary on the punk scene in the 70's and 80's, and a couple of the biggest-name guys were talking about how on the one hand you have guys like Emerson, Lake, and Palmer, who went to music school and then stayed home practicing their instruments in dad's study for years, and on the other hand you have these kids who just get a hold of some instruments are are like "Yeah, let's do this, and we'll figure it out along the way."

And I saw an interview with Quentin Tarantino in which he said, "Go make your movie. Don't worry about 'how am i going to do this,' 'how am i going to do that,' about going to film school first, about working your way up, just do it."

Roberto Rodriguez says the same thing. Just start making your movie. Don't worry that you don't know everything; you'll figure it out.

I'm more like the guys the punk musicians were ridiculing for staying home studying. First off I hate being just a total rookie, looking like every other would-be expert who is just now starting the long road to proficiency. I hate floundering around publically making my embarrassing mistakes. Besides, why jump in and do it, when I'm going to have no idea what I'm doing and am going to start trying to learn, start seeking books and people who can teach me. I like to stop and look at what's going to happen, to act, not react. So I just skip ahead and start finding resources and people to learn from.

I hate people who don't use their brains. So many people are so stupid and don't rise above it and look at themselves objectively. Anyone can be a rookie and anyone can get out there and try what feels like their hardest, without studying first. But what's really the hardest is studying and learning all the ins and outs of something, figuring out and comprehending all the concepts that are so difficult to grasp. Flailing as hard as you can isn't trying your hardest. Sucking it up and having the self-control to be persistent while reading and studying, is.

However...

A) I rarely make the transition from preparing to actually doing. They say life passes most people by while they're making grand plans for it. That's so true for me. I have a hard time figuring out when it's time to stop learning, because, it's not like you ever "get" all of it. First you learn the basics, then you learn the trickier stuff, and by that time I've got my own theories and questions about things none of the experts and none of the books even know about. I've become an expert or one of the leading experts, without ever having touched or experienced or done the thing.

That's kind of what happened in my line of work. I sat home dreaming and studying about it until I finally was urged to get into it. Kind of given a boot in the ass, really. When I did get into it, I learned that there was no-one who could verify the theories I had come up with. So I experimented and figured it out for myself, making myself the top guy in the industry in the process.

Sadly my A.D.D. and compulsion and lack of self control fucked me out of being a multimillionaire. If you can believe it, I still haven't made a doctor's appointment to get medication, either. And I haven't started smartrecovery.org. I'll do it "tomorrow."

the modern man must hustle

The first time I met the Devil was at a Motel 6
she left Hell to spend a weekend on Earth just for kicks
sexy little bitch,
shorter than expected, about five-foot five
big an' thick in the breast and thighs
beautiful, dark eyes, a strong stare
large lips, soft hands and long hair
I said I'll make you smile for the simple fact I'm good at it
I'll make you smile just so I can sit and look at it

Out Of Town

Til Wednesday or so. What a fuckin' pain in the ass.

Craigslist Entry I Saw

I saw this on Craigslist. Actually someone sent it to me. I wonder whether he had any idea I'm a porn addict. And I wonder whether he is one.

Opening Up

The weekend went pretty well I guess. The bride looked pretty cute and with her doe eyes and nervous embarrassment ways, reminded me of my first girlfriend.

The groom's sister, early 20's, was quite fit but had big healthy tits. Just big slabs of juicy chicken meat, and her dress showcased them terrifically. Good god where did she get a body like that? She is definite hoochie material, a very likely candidate for Girls Gone Wild and other such videos where girls tongue kiss, show their tits, and do everything else they've been programmed to do to get attention. I would fuck the shit out of her.

This one chick, 23, had the prettiest face. Nothing but shining eyes, cheekbones, brilliant smile... Her tits were uninspiring and her ass didn't have much bump to it. She met a sailor there (friend of the groom) and stayed out with him 'til 6 A.M. The next day she was on her way home and he was showing us the scratches on his back.

~

I called that girl, one of my best friend's girlfriends, at work the other day, to bullshit. I guess she finally picked up on my saying how I hated myself and my life and my marriage had turned to shit, because she called me that night to talk. I opened up and told her a lot more about me than I've told almost anyone in real life, like I told her about my Harry Tasker alternate persona I use for chicks on the side. She was pretty amazed, I guess rightfully so, at how I've covered every conceivable angle, from putting new-car plates on my car, to the fake registration I keep in the glovebox in case a girl looks through there, to my fake driver's licenses, to my prepaid credit cards and cell phone, all of it. I told her about a lot of my problems, and, surprisingly, it really helped me identify them more clearly, just to try to explain them.

One of the main ones is how I see sex and love. I realized more clearly than ever that I desire two things:

1) a girl on the side to open up to about romance and matters of the heart, someone I can act macho and Alpha Male in front of, but at the same time cry in front of, too. Someone I'm sexually attracted to and who I feel totally comfortable showing and telling her what I want in bed.

2) basically a mother or best friend figure at home, which is my wife. Someone I don't need to be attracted to, and who I don't want to have sex with; someone who will take care of me, who I don't open up to.

I don't trust the girls I have sex with, with certain parts of my heart, and I don't trust my wife with other parts, like I don't trust them not to make fun of me if I did open up.

I feel comfortable doing all kinds of kinky shit with my sexual girls, but I'd feel kind of corny telling my wife to do the same things.

Another big thing I revealed to her - and just hearing myself say it, really opened my eyes to how bad of an addict I really am, even though I knew it already - was how I think about girls constantly. I explained to her how, for example, I might see that Japanese-American chick at the Post Office and instantly being plotting and scheming, figuring all the angles in my head in a huge flow chart like a master chess player: How soon to come back, what to do if my wife isn't working that day, what to do if the chick isn't behind the counter that day, how to approach her, how to ask her out, what to do if I don't get into her line, when to call her back once I get her number, which restaurant to take her to, how to dress, how to act, what to say, all custom tailored to make her fall in love with me, based on my amateur yet expert FBI profiler-style assesment of her personality, current station in life, etc.

Which brings me to another thing I revealed to her- how I really am not even after the sex all the time, mostly just their hearts. My mission is to make girls/women fall in love with me, and me them, because I'm addicted to that thrill of the newness of first love, the romance, all that heady stuff.

Anyway it was really touching that she gave a shit and actually picked up the phone because she was worried about me. I told her she can tell her boyfriend anything or everything about what we talked about, so he wouldn't feel like I'm trying to lay her or have some sort of secrets with her that I won't tell him, thus undermining their relationship.

Mini-Vaca'

Going up the coast a couple three hours to a wedding. My 22 year old sister-in-law's friend. Super cute girl, soft face, big doe eyes, juicy lips. I'd pound her. Hopefully the wife enjoys the weekend and isn't on her usual automatic sour mood.

At the bank today a cute girl behind the counter gave me the eye. Dressed in black; straight brown hair, glasses; healthy, soft breasts and ass. I did my flirty shy thing and she kept peeking at me and smiling. As I was leaving she checked me out. I would totally pound that.

Got another $20 grand out of nowhere, so that will tide me over a bit. Will write more on Sunday nite when I get back.

Under The Bridge

Under the bridge downtown
Is where I drew some blood
Under the bridge downtown
I could not get enough
Under the bridge downtown
Forgot about my love
Under the bridge downtown
I gave my life away

Most People Lead Lives Of Quiet Desperation

One of my girl toys is getting married to this turdbait grizzly adams guy at the end of the summer.
Tomorrow is her last day at work; she's super cute and super brainy, an electrical engineer, and she quit her job so she can go hike from halfway up Oregon, down a third of the way down CA.
Basically 600 miles.
Then she is flying to FL, getting married, flying back to LA, getting on her sailboat with her dude, and sailing to South America, where they are considering backpacking in Ecuador for a year
Then back to FL to start life over

I'm like Yeah I might TiVo Entourage next week

Cuck You

I don't steal other guy's wives or girlfriends. I just borrow them from time to time.

Godzilla

"Pornography really does, unlike other addictions, biologically cause direct release of the most perfect addictive substance. That is, it causes masturbation, which causes release of the naturally occurring opioids. It does what heroin can't do, in effect."

-Jeffrey Satinover of NARTH

Six Feet Under

I just re-watched the final episode of last season's Six Feet Under. I used to always feel like I was exactly like Nate and my wife was exactly like Lisa. If you knew us you'd agree. I just knew my wife saw the same thing; she even hinted at it a little bit.

Rewatching it now I see in a way I'm worse than Nate, or what I've done is worse than what Nate did. My wife really doesn't love me anywhere near as much as she used to. I'm sure if she watched this same episode again, now that another year has passed, she'd watch Lisa's sister's husband asking Nate, "How could you treat her that way?" and think, He treated me that way.

Harsh reality

Man, I'm so jealous right now. This guy came to fix a chipped windshield on the wife's car. We got to talking, he has has two businesses, one doing this and one doing custom flooring. He showed me his album of before and after pics of floors he has done, talked about the product, etc. The guy is very good looking, fit, easygoing, just reeks of being simple, down to earth, honest, hardworking, on time, organized, everything. 30 years old, wife is 23. I guarantee you his wife is super hot, too. That's just how those guys have it. I also guarantee you he'll make more money every year from now on, for the rest of his life.

And then there's me, I could fuck up anything.

Cattle Call

Ok.

So, I went to a casting call yesterday. First off my agents are total pieces of shit, which is totally unsurprising. And to think everyone blames the talent. Yeah, right! This dumb bitch calls me up midday - I'm still asleep - and says "Hi this is (her first name), you are scheduled for a 3:15 casting call, can you make it?" Doesn't state her last name or what business she's calling from, or even make sure it's me she's speaking to. She just blurts it out immediately after I say hello. She also doesn't say WHERE it is, or for WHOM, and the biggest thing is,

a) she already scheduled me without even seeing whether I'm available or not, and

b) she didn't give me ANY advance warning! Not even one day! Oh yeah right, like the casting director and the studio and videographer and producers and assistants and everyone else involved went to all this trouble to set this all up, but didn't notify my agent until that same day?? GIVE me a fucking BREAK! WHAT a FUCKING BITCH!

What really happened was, this agent was warned a month in advance and didn't even pick up the phone. Why? Because she's a worthless cluck. A dumb fucking c-word of a wench. JESUS Christ, please God kill her.

See, the problem with her scheduling me without my knowledge is that if I can't make the casting call, the casting director and everyone else will go "God, what a flake!" Yeah right, like it's my fault. Dumb Fucking Whore.

Anyway, I respond to her, saying "Can I call you right back?"
She replies - incredulously, mind you (can you believe this shit?) "Do you even have my number?"
I'm thinking, Well yes, you dumb fucking bitch, ever heard of caller I.D.? But I say "Well I assume you're calling fro-" She interrupts (as always) and blurts out the name of the agency. No Fucking Shit you dumbfuck! Where the fuck ELSE would you be calling from? JESUS what a dumb fucking piece of shit.

Anyway, I let myself wake up for a moment, then call her back. "Hi, this is _____" (ya like how I introduce myself? It's called NORMAL PHONE PROTOCOL as well as PROFESSIONALISM.) "Regarding the casting call, where is it?" She blurts out the street name and number, nothing more. I pause, so I don't reach through the phone and choke her to death, and say, "What city would that be in?" ARGH you DUMB FUCKING WHORE!

Anyway, I get ready and race there, but there's one catch. My wife wants to go. Fuck!! What am I going to do, tell her no? Heck no, that would be a terrible move right now, maybe ending my marriage.

We arrive, and as often happens, there are other casting calls going on at the same time in other suites or whatever they're called. All the hopefuls are standing around the main waiting area. One group is infants and parents, another group is average joes, another group appears to be skanks and hookers, and yet another group is Hot Frickin Women.

Good LORD are some of these women hot. I mean, if you've never been to L.A. at all you really can't fathom it. Believe me, I have lived here a long time and it still amazes even me. Oh you may think you can "get it" because you're capable of grasping the notion that there are lots of hotties and wannabe starlets in L.A., but it's like having a gun pointed to your head: imagining how it would feel, and actually having it happen, are two WAY different things.

Between the mommies with their heavy, soft breasts, bending over to pick up their babies, and the models/actresses with their rail-thin frames, rounded asses, jutting cheekbones, and impossibly white teeth, the whole room has me reeling.

I swagger in like I own the place (unlike everybody else, who are either nervous, or gorgeous yet insecure, or fingers-crossed hopeful), trying to keep my distance from my wife, and everybody stares at me, wondering "Who is this guy? Is he a director? A casting director? A hotshot actor I for some reason don't recognize? A producer?" The gorgeous girls I give cursory inspections to and maybe give a small, ambiguous smile to, but I don't show too much interest. Those kinds of girls fall all over themselves shining their glorious warmth on you until you show interest - then they're like "Tssh. As if." So if you ignore them they're like "How can I get this guy to notice me?"

Meanwhile though I'm staring at whichever ones are looking the other way, so I can ogle them unnoticed. MAN! I'm telling you, these girls are painfully beautiful. And desperate for attention. Good god it would be easy to pull some of these chicks.

Also there are a lot of mommies there with their infants, who are trying out for a diaper ad. This one in particular has just the sweetest face, and HUGE tits, I mean bigger than my head by far. But really nice, too, not just arbitrarily large tits. They're so big that she has a lot of cleavage showing, so when she bends over to pick up her kid, I look the other way so it appears I'm not paying attention, but then I turn back and stare right down her shirt. Praise Jesus, pure heaven on earth right there. My god. I can only imagine how warm and soft they are. Grrr! It's almost like being starving and staring at food from a world class chef.

Now, most moms don't lose all the weight they gained during their pregnancy right away, and many (most?) never get back to their original weight in the first place. So, they feel like big ugly cows, especially next to these 118 lb , 5 foot 11" superhotties. That means if I flash this one particularly reliable smile of mine, they're putty in my hands. And for the icing on the cake, the Perfect 10's in the room notice it (they don't miss a thing) and wonder why this cute MILF gets a smile and not themselves.

So, whenever my wife's back is turned or I happen to be facing away, I work it, without her noticing. MAN I could collect some digits if I were here alone and in recruitment mode. Good god I would love to pound some of these beauties. Fucking a skinny or really fit girl is great because they're so firm, every thrust slams her whole body around. And fucking a thick girl is great because they're so voluptuous and luxurious and soft. You get to see their tits move, their ass shake, thighs, tummy, all of it is terrific. God bless women.

I need to go to my car for something, so my wife stays behind to listen for my name and tell them I'll be back in a moment if they call me. On the way there I slow down to let this one hottie catch up with me. Blonde, very pretty face, looks a lot like Gisele Bundchen. Nice soft a-cups, but they're jiggly, which I love. Now, skinny girls with no ass totally turn me off, I mean, my weenie says 'Byebye!' Zero interest. This one has a round, muscular little thing back there, a very Nicole Kidman body. Good god what I would do to that. Anyway I make small talk and flirt a bit. It would be so easy to get her number. But I wrap it up and walk ahead. Around the back of the building I catch up to a black girl, who I can tell was just inside. She just had that look. Halle Berry body, with bigger tits and a bigger ass, and a face a lot like Nia Long, but cuter. We bullshit for a bit, and I could have definitely gotten her number too, but I pass. She's moving to San Francisco anyway. If I were really on the case I could have worked it - told her I live up there or have a second home up there, and created this whole giant house of lies out of thin air; flown up there a few times and back the next morning before my wife got home from work, but, no way, not now. I don't need to get laid THAT badly!

I get what I need from the car and head back. I make sure I catch up with this one MILF - her face looks exactly like an actress who's been in quite a few films, whose name I can't place. Maybe it's her. Tan; brown hair with blonde streaks, cut in a bob; dark blue tattoo high on on her upper arm, ROUND ass - Jesus! - and very round cantelope sized probably fake tits. Not bad fake, though; these are nice, very expensive and very well done fake ones. Who knows, maybe they're real. Man oh man. She's mid 30's or so, and definitely would appreciate the attention. We bullshit for a moment, and as we round the corner I ask, "What call are you here for?" Just then we round the corner and there's her infant daughter in a stroller being held by this woman's elderly mom. "My daughter." Oh well. I wasn't going to get her digits anyway.

After the audition the wife wants to go to Whole Foods. Ok. While she's in line to get a gourmet sandwich, I'm off a ways looking at "food" (translation: "women.") Suddenly I turn and see this one, HO my GAWD! Like a God Damn Scotti Andrews. Same body pretty much; same hair, everything. Scotti is an incredibly cute and busty young porn star from Scotland. This girl has really big natural tits, TOTALLY round, I mean spherical. And they're filled with like helium and jello. Well I'll be. The things are a bit bigger than my head, and just absolute perfection. Her body is exactly like I love - well one of the ways - but very hard to describe. Mainstream actresses and musicians just don't have bodies like this. She's not skinny, but not exactly thick, either. She's VERY curvy, including a big, juicy bubble butt, perfectly round. But say the word "curvy" and people think you're saying "fat, but I like it." I'm telling you, this girl is like, the best way to describe it is, picture the heaviest centerfold ever featured in Playboy. A girl who, you can't see her ribs at all, but she's not overweight. Probably a 30" waist, so, not skinny, but not fat either. And a 40" ass, and double D's. She turns and looks at me. Dammit, if my wife hadn't been around I could have just lavished charm and praise and romance on her and gotten her number.

Man, my heart actually ached, still does. I actually felt like I was in love. I flashed forward and imagined dating her and so on. Man oh man. How could I have let her get away? I feel kind of heartbroken to be honest. That must sound crazy.

I'll dig up some pictures of Scotti and post them, you'll see what I mean.

Motley Crue

I'm watching this documentary on Motley Crue and how some of the guys' managers were trying to get them back together for a reunion tour so they can make some money. Mick Mars, one of the guitarists, has ankylosing spondylitis, a currently incurable disease which over time fuses the bones of the spine together. The guys from the band hadn't seen him in years, so when they saw him, frail and gaunt like an anorexic, they were shocked. Mick did a little interview in which he said that to combat the pain, he started taking opiates, and became addicted. I'll try to get this as verbatim as I can because I just saw it not 40 seconds ago, but he said, "I felt like I was screaming for help, but no-one was coming. So I was just alone in this 5800 square foot house, dying. I guess I had a death wish at that point."

He's just a skinny middle-aged guy, alone and in pain with no one trying to help him. All that fame, money, mansions, women, cars, guitars, none of it mattered. Fuckin' a.

That's not my point though. Not what you think. I'm not saying that money can't buy happiness or any of that. His wealth didn't matter only because he didn't have a lasting relationship with anyone who offered to help. Same as me. That's what caught my attention. Despite all that stuff, he had fucked up too.

In Flames

My wife told me she wants to separate because she wants more out of her marriage. I guess I can't blame her, but I am disappointed. I thought she'd at least talk to me instead of just clamming up. Anyway we semi- patched things up so it sounds like neither one of us is moving out just yet but I wonder whether it's only a matter of time. And I wonder whether or not it's better that way.

Busywork

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Typical

I finally edited and re-edited my email help request to that local addiction specialist doctor I found. I agonized over it and finally clicked Send. Two seconds later here was the response I got in my Inbox:

Hi. This is the qmail-send program at yahoo.com.
I'm afraid I wasn't able to deliver your message to the following addresses.
This is a permanent error; I've given up. Sorry it didn't work out.

Lemon Law / Crawling In My Skin

god, I hate myself. I can't believe how much I've fucked up, how fucked up I am. I had the best wife I could ask for and a far better match for me than anyone I've ever met or seen. She used to love me so much, she'd sit up nights waiting for me and she'd be happy when I came home, not grumpy like nowadays, like every day. She'd write me letters even when we lived together, she'd make books for me telling me the story of our love, and I did nothing but hurt her again and again, make her lose first her trust and then her love. I see it everywhere, every day. She forgets the baby monitor is on and I hear the phone beep as she scrolls through the caller ID list. She looks in my wallet to check my receipts and look for phone numbers. She looks in my briefcase, and my cell phone address book and recent calls. I get a call at home from a friend while I'm in the shower so I answer it on the first ring and tell him I'll call him back. When I check the computer's History later I see she googled the area code to see where I was getting a quick call from. God, I think I've ruined it forever. It will never be the same. And it was wonderful.

I certainly got wired wrong from the factory because there is no explanation for why I've always been such a fuckup. I had this windup teddy bear with a music box inside and I can remember being four years old and staying up late at night, alone in the dark, listening to it over and over, thinking about how achingly sad and lonely this one riff, these three or four notes sounded. Most four year olds are not like that. Thirty years since I've turned that key, and those notes haunt me even to this day.





The worst part is she has no idea. I shut her out completely, so she has no idea how I really feel. She thinks I'm just this nothing person who sits on the computer and ignores her, doesn't care about her, prefers surfing the web or messenging my buddies more than talking to her. She doesn't know I'm dying inside, wishing I could be productive, get on with my life, with our lives, be nice to her, do more work around the house, recultivate my interests and hobbies, just not be a ghoul with no lifeforce. And I'm too scared to tell her. I'm too timid to really tell her how I feel about anything. So she has only the faintest idea of who I really am. Isn't that wild?





I really wish I could kill myself but I have a daughter now, and my poor dad, he's been through so much, had his heart broken so many times starting from childhood. It might make him feel like he's cursed, when really I'm the one who's cursed. And there's my mom, my sister, my wife, they would all be so sad. Not really anyone else; I have some friends who'd be sad but not really. Mostly people would laugh at me, all the people who were jealous of me, the people who find me threatening and easy to hate for being smart, the people who look down on me for how fucked up I was and how easy to rip off. So i won't be killing myself any time soon. By the time it'll be okay to, it'll be too late to bother, and if you think about it or use a life expectancy calculator it's not likely I'll make it to that point anyhow. So I just have to hang in there and keep being a fuckup until I can punch out or it happens for me. Overall, what a shit life it's been so far, and what a pathetic waste and a joke it's about to be for the next twenty years as they whiz by. If you think about it, twenty christmases is nothing.

Fackin' 'ell

Christ. I think I left some porn links in my Recent list, from the Start button, and I think my wife found them. Jesus Christ. Fuck. How could I have been so careless? I have a lead weight in the pit of my stomach. Now I have to wait for god knows how long until she brings it up. I'm going to have to occupy all our time together being busybusybusy, from eating to watching a movie to doing something, just to keep her from asking me about it or talking about it.

Jesus Christ.

The other day I found the website of some particularly famous addiction therapist whose areas of specialty also include sex addiction. I started to compose her an email asking for help but I'm not done yet. Maybe it's time.

Excerpt from article on A&E show, "Intervention"

After all, what bothers us the most about addicts is that they're doing what we're all tempted to do, either once in our lifetime, once every few years, once every few months, or once a week: Give up. We hate the addict because we want to tell him or her, "Suck it up! Do you think I like going to my tedious job every day? Do you think I enjoy reading credit card bills I can't begin to tackle? Sure, I'd love to stay in bed and eat chocolate and smoke crack for the rest of my life, but I don't do that, because I know better!"

But the addicts have something important to tell us, too. When they falter and flail and whine and manipulate and blame, they're showing us how a normal person can turn into a paralyzed, confused demon. And the message is this: You are not immune.

Clutter

I've been talking to one of my best friend's girlfriend about sex. She has kind of lost interest in him (though not him in her) after seven or more years of dating. She's looking to me for tips on how to put some spark back into their sex life. Me! How the hell should I know?

We also flirt a lot. She looks a lot like Mariel Hemingway crossed with a pro volleyballer. She's very fit, and could easily kick my ass. She is a total tomboy; wrestles guys, and usually wins. When we're flirting we'll talk on the phone, or send literally dozens of short emails back and forth for hours, full of double entendres. Then she goes home and jumps his bones.

In the flirting I'm pushing to have sex with her. I even suggest days and times, like the two days a week she works late and he is at a night class.

He's one of my best friends. I wouldn't sleep with her. Would I?

~

I keep trying to handle these menial tasks that have been hanging over my head for days, weeks, months, and even years. It's killing me. I wonder whether it's learned helplessness (that's a scientific/psychological phenomenon) or what I believe is the obvious chemical imbalance in my brain. Was it the way my dad raised me, or should I say, failed to raise me? Is it the way I'm made? Or is it my own fault?

~

Sometimes when I'm caught up in my wretchedness I close a window on my computer and see the desktop. The background is an image of my daughter, looking upward, with a big smile on her face. God, the hope, the promise, my hopes for her, the promises I pray I don't break.

Jesus.

I feel like I've failed her already.


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