You Can Fool Some Of The People Some Of The Time, But You Can't Fool Yourself All The Time

I don't know, you know, I just... I get off track for two seconds and the next thing you know it's like having to walk an extra mile to get home, just to avoid someone you were supposed to call back.

I guess I've been avoiding writing
I don't know why

I just, I find myself wanting to or being compelled to attract people, but to attract them means I'd have to BE attracted to them, and if I'm really not, I find myself convincing myself that they're attractive and so on, and then, when we get close to hooking up, at some point I just see them for who they are: poor, desperate, banal, a bit pathetic and therefore heart-wrenching...

I'll write more shortly.

Mania

I don't have much staying power. When I'm manic it doesn't last days or weeks or months like some people. It only lasts just long enough to start a project. So blog entries are great for that, LOL

.

Quitting Porn

"This was to be my final hit. But let's be clear about this. There's final hits, and final hits. Which kind was this to be?"

- Trainspotting



.

Part V of The Domme - Marxism

that chick, the Domme,
i haven't posted about meeting her,
and i'll write a bunch more, shortly,
but,
she looked super hot in her pics
and seemed very self assured
empowered
energetic
Interesting, to me
The more I got her interested in me, the less I thought of her
I'm like Groucho Marx
I'd never join any club that would have me as a member
When she agreed to meet me i was like, over her
and when i met her and had her wrapped around my finger i was completely bored
Isn't that wild?
man
I was like, "Next!"
haha
Sad
I wish I could stay in love
enamoured
I see these people who are like that
lovey-dovey
people who have 9-5's (it's 8-5 in this country, who are we kidding)
and who have 2.3 kids
nice home
no kink
they squeegee the glass door in the shower every time they get out
to avoid spots
I'm just a ghoul compared to these people
No self control
There was a Queen, I believe of France,
who supposedly said on her deathbed,
"All of my riches
for a moment in time"
I dated a girl who squeegeed her glass shower
well really I was cheating on my girlfriend with her
Well no that's not true, I was dating both of them
and fell in love with her for a while
Anyway she said it was worth it to squeegee every day
to keep it looking nice.
Only takes a couple of minutes.
On my deathbed
if I squeegeed
I'd be thinking, Let's see, 3 minutes a day
times 365 a year
times 60 years
that's 65,700 minutes
which is 1,095 hours
which is 45-1/2 days straight, 24 hours a day
Pissed away, squeegeeing.

I tried squeegeeing
at her house
I mean I wasn't going to come right out of the gate and contradict her
She was too feisty and feminist for that
So I tried it
to see whether I could make myself into a squeegeer
(I was still in love with her)
So I start squeegeeing
and I'm like a crank addict,
toes tapping, knees pumping up and down, jaws clacking, fingers drumming 90 mph
I can't get it done fast enough and it feels like I'm going to explode, wasting my time there
So I have a shower curtain and we just throw it away every few years when the water spots are too annoying

Rebel With A Cause

I'm so used to being controversial. Not like Dennis Rodman, "I'm gonna wear some earrings and a dress." Not like Rush Limbaugh being a cock on the radio. No, I'm the real fuckin' deal. I really am the person your mother warned you about.

I'm not some weirdo, either. Some neighborhood van perv or porn cinema raincoater or subway fondler or window peeper or upskirt stairs or toilet cammer or trench coat flasher with cut-off pantlegs rubberbanded to my calves. And I'm no sociopathic serial killer. No, I'm worse than any of that.

Those guys are just ghouls. They can't help it.

I could but won't. Can't.

I'm brilliant, I mean truly I'm an out-there genius, but I'm not a sicko like that. I just love women. Too much. Always have. Pleasure center's wired wrong. Rat's pushing the cocaine lever day and night, just watching himself over and over and over, wishing he would straighten up out of his rat crouch and go to the cage door. It's open.

Part IV of The Domme - Flat Earth

So.

So, I talked about how I thoroughly researched her online, and began my reverse-profiler seduction. Reverse profiler meaning, a police or FBI 'profiler' looks at information gathered on a subject and draws conclusions about the way that person conducts, will conduct, or would have conducted themselves. Me, I use the information to learn how to conduct myself. How to parse my phrases, what to say and when, and so on.

Oh I'm sure many would view this as controversial. Yawn. Try coming out here with me away from the flock. Here Be Dragons? Sail off the edge? I think not. No, the world goes round and round, all the way around, and if you keep going in the same direction you'll end up where you started.

No, what I do is scarcely different than modifying your manners around someone from another country - hell, not even other countries; this includes your own. Say you saw an attractive person from an Arab nation. If you were sitting and crossed your legs, you'd be sure not to expose the sole of your shoe.

Say you're in a job interview. Are you going to pick your nose or scratch your crotch? It's the same thing.

What about keeping your left hand under the table? Not completely cutting your food up before eating it? Shaking hands (usually right hand to right hand)? Post-sneeze 'bless you'? Oh you may not notice this anachronistic programming but these are all the same thing.

Guy opens a door for her. Is he being manipulative? He knows she'll like it.

Guy asks her friends what she likes. White chocolate. He buys her white chocolate. Was he stalking her? Manipulating her? Being a sneak?

White guy studies a book on Japanese culture in order to learn to say "Arigato" and "Gozai mashita" to the Japanese girl he's asked out. Is he being creepy? Manipulative?

Am I wrong?

Have I gone too far to get home?

Negativeland

I think so much porn is based on misunderstanding, or lack of understanding. People don't understand what pain is, what they're doing to someone else.

~

I'm so jacked up right now I don't even really know how I'll get myself out of this. I sleep all day and surf the net all night. The other day I went outside for the first time in like 5 days I think. The colors under the sun were so beautiful, it was amazing.

How the hell am I going to get off this schedule and how am I ever going to even get any self control again? I can't even complete the most simple tasks that are sitting around me waiting to be done. I really think I've worn some ruts in my brain.

Courting

Courting someone - and by that I don't mean for marriage, I simply mean... seeking a new relationship. And by relationship I mean the way in which one relates to another. Not necessarily a comitted relationship. I have a relationship with my postman for example. I say 'postman' and not 'postperson' because the postman is a male. The postgirl, a cute, broad-smiled latina, delivers mail the the next street over. Anyway, the point is, I have a relationship with my postman, for example, and ours is a strictly professional one. He brings the mail and snaps the box shut with a bang. That is a relationship. The way in which we relate, has to do with mail delivery. I also have a relationship with my friends. We talk and hug and go to dinner. You get my point.

Anyway, seeking any new relationship, there's a tendency to put on one's best face, show the shiniest facet.

Oh for heaven's sake. Let's cut to the chase and really be ourselves. For once. Let's just hug and comfort and not have to put up all the defenses and plot wargames and stratagies. Stratagems. Whatever.

Part III of The Domme

So, a week or two ago a girl viewed my profile on that BDSM personals site. She listed herself as a domme, meaning, a dominant woman. Her profile was different than most, though. She explained that she's not like a leather domme, not any more, but more like a little girl who just wants to get her way. She likes guys who are sweet and romantic and attentive.

So when I see her name and profile in my list of who's been viewing me - and how gorgeous she is - I write her and tell her how cute she is and how unusual her profile is. She writes back that she likes me and that she's tired, but gives me an email address to write her at.

Aha! It's on. It's so fuckin' on. The world does not know how brilliant and persistent I am. I scoured the ends of the Earth via the internet and found everything from her full name, home address, and phone number, to her friends, her blog, and her personal website. I downloaded every file and every picture off every directory and subdirectory of her site. About 800 files, 130 megs' of information, and two videos of her giving guys blowjobs. I read everything she has ever written online. I even found "ghost" versions of things she's written and pictures she's posted but which have been deleted for months or years.

I read about her all night, maybe 8 or more hours straight. By the time I was done it was like a bizarre perverted dreamworld of hers, reduced to nothing more than her formula of preference: guy works out, guy brings her gifts and doesn't wear cologne and smells sweaty and is non-threatening, guy worships her feet, eats her out, and jerks off on himself. After I kept seeing this scenario written out and mentioned enough times, I actually found a an amateur comic strip she or someone had scrawled showing exactly those things in that order, frame after frame. It reduced it to nothing more than a strobe light, click, sweaty guy with no cologne, click, "I missed you," click, foot rub, click, foot licking, click, him rimming her, click, him fingering her, click, someone getting spanked, click, stick figure guy saying "I love you," click, stick figure saying "My pleasure is your pleasure," click, stickman says "Let's go out for drinks, on me of course!" In a way it was really pathetic. What am I saying? The entire thing was pathetic.

But at the same time it was so interesting that she had this legion of guys - and there were many, I saw the pics - getting used as footstools (literally) and totally worshipping her. Granted, she was hot, but this was a sort of subculture superstardom. Plus it was so interesting that she was so intelligent, active, and most of all, self-empowered.

I was intrigued, so I added her to my Messenger list. When we started chatting, I was so nervous I'd blow it. I wanted her quite a bit, plus I did NOT want to get rejected - two separate issues. But, having gathered information, I put it into my supercomputer brain which is part FBI profiler and part Hannibal Lechter. She was actually kind of easy to lure in. I knew exactly what to say. But I was on the edge of my seat the entire time.

After a week of chatting, I had her wrapped around my finger and I'd had kind of a "crush lite" on her. Meaning, she was the new big exciting thing in my life; the place my thoughts dwelled a lot. It was really masterful the way I drew her to me. Finally she hinted that we should go out, so, plans were made. See previous post for details.

Meeting her was even more curious. That's next. I said I would go to bed at 2 a.m. and now it's 6. I have to get up soon to do something with the wife. Instead of being happy to see me when I come to bed (the way some girls would be, which is what I'd prefer), she'll give me a bunch of grief about me not coming to bed when I said I would. Fuck, give me a break, I got caught up in porn. Anyway I'm dreading going upstairs.

Really, as much as I like and care for my wife, most of the time I can't stand to be around her. She'll bitch me out for one thing or another, or attack me, or take the wind out of my sails and demotivate me. That's one of the best parts of an affair: suddenly here's this girl I don't have to walk on eggshells around. Someone who actually - gasp - supports me or will stay by my side no matter where I go or what I'm doing (unlike my wife) . Someone who just isn't grumpy!

And believe me, it's not just the cheating and the fucked up sex life. She's always been grumpy.

Speaking of staying up all night downloading porn, I've found a way to cull vast amounts of porn off the internet. I'm talking about over 1,500 files; 1.6 gigabytes of pure porn on autopilot. And, Hell, that's after I purified it by deleting over 7,800 junk files (about 130 megabytes)! I do it night after night and I look at like 1% of it. At this rate I will never get it all sorted. Hell, I fall way more behind every day.

Part II of The Domme

First off I was late, because of porn. I whacked off for, like, an hour when I should have rushed upstairs and gotten dressed. I didn't want to but I was trapped; couldn't stop myself.

Then I had to spend a ton of time getting ready. A quick shower and then I spent a ton of time trying to figure out what to wear. She said she was dressing up, but just for herself. Maybe a corset, she said. She said she was sick of all the people dressing like shit in their designer sweats and t-shirts and baseball caps. So, I wanted to look nice, but not too nice, but not too underdressed.

She was going to meet me at a bar instead of her house, even though she already gave me her address and phone number- which I already had because I had done a bunch of research on her on the internet. She said she had a slave, an older man, coming to clean her house, and that she hated to be around for the cleaning process. I was thinking, Big Lie, her house is messy and she's covering for it and sort of showing off how powerful she is and how much she has going on.

Anyway I'm getting dressed and I wanted to wear my black leather slipper-type shoes - the leather is so rich, you can tell they're expensive - but I hadn't replaced that $28 black belt I accidentally left in a hotel room so I only had two belts. One was from high school, so it was, what?... jesus christ, almost 20 years old. Holy fuck I better buy some new belts. Anyway, it is one of those braided leather ones. They used to be cool but now they're way out of style. I tried it on and the thing was so short that only an inch or so of belt stuck out the other side of the buckle. Not even enough to reach the first belt loop. It was also very narrow and nothing looks tackier than a thin belt in big belt loops, especially when it slides up too far.

The other belt was a wide, flat, black leather belt I made after high school. I was in a period where, for the second time in my life, I actually felt sexy. And I looked GOOD at that time. Good lord what did I do with my life? I squandered my youth and vitality and good looks. I hooked up with my wife at age 23. She's the best thing that ever happened to me but my god I wish I had enjoyed having sex with more women. Before I was with her I'd only slept with two girls. Since then I've slept with a hell of a lot more. But they're not the young ripe ones I used to get. I could get some young ones now, by shedding this early middle-age baby fat I've put on, and claiming I'm 27. I better do that As Soon As Fucking Possible or I'm going to hate myself even more, later on.

But I digress. Let's go back 13 years to the belt. Stylistically, Western culture (by which I am referring to popular American and not the many subcultures such as, the Cowboy or Punk styles) hadn't yet evolved to encompass work boots. A year or so later, style accepted them when the Grunge era came along, and about that same time, the black hip-hop subculture adopted them (especially Timberlands). But just prior to that point, I was the only guy I ever saw doing it. I know it worked at the time, because I got compliments - even from female strangers - on them. Culturally it just fit.

Anyway I wanted a manly belt to go along with them, so I went to a leather store and bought a blank belt, and a basic buckle which I stitched in. I punched holes with my mom's leather punch and away we went. At that time I used the tightest hole. It looked pretty manly and I got compliments on it as well.

Fast forward to last night, where I was two or three nonexistent holes away from the last hole, the hole that was too loose to use back then. I grabbed a battery-operated drill I had borrowed from my father-in-law and still had to pack up for him to pick up in the morning when he passed by. The fact that I hadn't packed it up yet, nor gotten another one to replace my now-lost one, for that matter another, were just reminders that I should have prepared. Should have gotten my game tight. Should've put my house in order.

Anyway I drilled a couple new holes, and the one that fit best left only a tiny tongue of belt out the other side of the buckle. Not even enough to reach the first belt loop. Something else I should have started on a long time ago and been ready for this day: working out.

I decided against wearing those shoes anyway. The soles were too thin and I'd look short, and I - one more thing I procrastinated on 'til it was too late - hadn't gotten a pair of really nice shoes with high soles, to give me as much height as possible. She likes big, tall, Daddylike guys, so I wanted as much as I could get. So I put on my Hilfiger dress shoes. They're a year old and are a bit worn but hopefully she wouldn't notice.

She lives two hours away, and I had to get in the right mood, so I had to have my CD's. But it dawned on me, I had left my multidisc CD cartridge in the Navigator, which my wife had driven to work. I contemplated going there and getting it, but it was so far out of the way, and I wasn't even sure I could get access to her parking lot, that I decided not to. Yet another thing I should have taken care of before it was too late.

I decided to make a CD for the drive, so I could get into the right mood, but I realized one more thing I had procrastinated on for years: fixing the CD player in the other car. Without the cartridge you must rely on sliding a CD into the deck itself. However, the deck has malfunctioned the past couple three years, and it will only load the first CD you put into the deck when the car is totally cold. Fuck! I wouldn't be able to change CD's, or put in a slow, romantic groove one for when she was in my car later. Dammit.

I set about burning a blank CD, but I had to switch hard drives. The hard drive with my porn was connected to the computer but not the hard drive with all my music. I had been procrastinating on installing the controller card that would let me use multiple hard drives at once. Sheesh. What a wreck my life is. One big prolonged procrastination session.

So I swapped hard drives and spent a bunch of time picking songs, but, the way my default program was set up (I had never used it before), it wouldn't burn the CD. Fuck!! Shoulda practiced before. Shoulda been ready.

I used another program - Musicmatch - burned the CD with 70%seduction music, 30% music to get my head straight on the drive down.

I needed the help because I haven't slept (including tonight) 8 hours straight, in days. I just stay up fucking around online, and without sleep I become pretty out of it. One more thing I should have straightened out in my life.

Next I'll skip back to this past week and I'll talk more about her, and then about our night together, but for now I have to go clean up this place. I haven't done shit all night. Well-
I did hack into this awesome porn site with TONS of movies, and have been downloading them in the background all night.

Would?

Into the flood again
Same old trip it was back then
So I made a big mistake
Try to see it once my way

Am I wrong?
Have I run too far to get home?

Have I gone?
And left you here alone?

If I would,


...could you?




.

Going Out

I'm going out with this really hot chick I've been flirting with online. She is really unusual. My friend Donna tells me she's a narcissist, but I think this girl is merely extremely selfish. The girl even admits it.

She has a gorgeous face, medium tits, and a big, incredibly round ass. She really is something else, I'd say one of the top hottest chicks I've ever landed.

She's different, because, she likes to be domineering. She's not like a leather domme, not any more, but just in a little-girl way; she wants the guy to be a very non-threatening Daddy figure. And she wants to get whatever she wants. She has guys come over and clean her apartment for her, or, go down on her or rim her or jerk off for her.

I'd like to chow down on her for sure, but I'd also like a blowjob. So we'll see.

I have a lot more to say about her but I'll write more later. It's a 2-hour drive and I'm not dressed yet. Two hours is just barely enough prep time for me to rehash all our convos in my head and cull out the useful information, about how to treat her and how to get her to respond.

The problem is I got like NO sleep last night so I have had a headache all day and I'm not real quick on the uptake. I hope I don't blow it real bad. We'll see. I'll post about it soon.

I told her I couldn't stay out super late, like past 2-3 a.m., because I had something to do tomorrow. In reality my wife will be home early so I have to be there by then.

Maybe I'd better make things look as if I left in the morning, so in case something happens and I get stuck out there, it doesn't look like I was gone all night.

Changes

I did whack off a couple times the other night. It wasn't that I was horny - I was a little -, it's just that something triggered it. I thought of porn for some reason, and I couldn't stop myself. It was great, though. It was a night for Kaylynn, a gorgeous auburn-haired girl, skinny, with a big ass and a big hook nose. Good lord is she gorgeous. Her ass is like a delicious piece of broiled chicken, it's that juicy. My god, I just want to grab her and rip chunks off of her.

I also downloaded a bunch of porn but only for a couple hours, which felt like about 20 minutes. That's the way it should be, like a bank robbery: I'm in, I'm out, and down the road. Not stuck in prison for a year.

~

I just copied 17 more of my porn CD's to my big hard drive. Today's files were 35,076 files in 253 folders. On top of the earlier 50 CD's which held 56,000 files in 732 folders.

I feel good about that. It's such a good feeling getting organized, and as I watch the files moving onto my hard drive I feel so anal-retentively happy knowing that soon, all my files will be in ONE place. I've been waiting about a decade for this. Theoretically it should make it easier for me to whack off and then get away; instead of fiending over Scotti Andrews or Katie Gold or Leannie Lei or Syren like I have been, digging through my CD's (which are unlabelled I can't get caught) t rying them one after another, I should be able to just zip in, do my business, and zip out.

~

My daughter had a modelling shoot today. The catering lady had a really cute face, probably early 30's, perky, kind of a flat ass and saggy breasts for how small they were, but who's counting. Two year old daughter, married, loved me. I was hilarious and charming and well dressed in a scruffy way, sort of like how you see rumpled celebrities like Jude Law or Colin Farrell. Button-down dress shirt with a nice pattern on it, jeans, oh shit I just noticed my belt didn't match my shoes, and a really nice Perry Ellis jacket. She gave me her email address. She also made a verrrrry subtle comment about cheating, which was so incredibly sophisticated and light-handed that I almost didn't catch it. I cracked wise about it a couple times and she laughed. I think there's a good chance she may want to hook it up. I'm going to email her and start a flirtation. I don't so much WANT to, it's just that it's going to happen as I watch. Weird, huh?

My wife was there. She was Fucking Pissed that I was spending so much time with the catering lady instead of attending to her and our daughter. I felt bad but I knew I was a piece of shit so I couldn't help it.

Puppetry

I once read, recently actually, that addicts are like uh
what was it
(do you like my smooth delivery? LOL)
egomaniacs with inferiority complexes
that's totally me
sad to think that human behavior is so predictable
We're puppets on invisible strings
just like the strings from the incest-survivor crank addict porn star to her dad and her uncle
Dance, puppet, dance!

Quick Note

Just a quick note. I'm doing better. I haven't whacked off in like three or four days maybe. Not even in the shower. Zero interest. Actually it doesn't even cross my mind, now that I think about it. I haven't stayed up all night surfing porn either. I have stayed up all night reading about photography and photography equipment but I am getting better about wrapping up and going to bed, too. The compulsion is separate from the lack of horniness. If I weren't being distracted with my photography, I'd be looking at porn and then I'd be whacking off again, multiple times a night (and day).

I'm still wacked in the head - I can't stop flirting with girls (in fact my wife and child and I went to the mall, and I got away for a while, and a young 20-something girl ended up asking for my number) - but I'm not fucking up with porn so manically out of control like I had been for the past several years, night after night.

I really am losing my sex drive. I honestly have no interest in it. How strange. Is it normal? Or did I burn it out?

All I know is, I hope it stays this way. I've fallen so many times in so many ways that I don't pin all my feelings on any one hope. I know it's not likely that anything will stick but I don't cast a dark cloud of "It'll never work" over it. All I need is to keep distracting myself. If I can't treat it at the source, maybe I can treat it empirically. A "dry drunk." Someone who isn't drinking but is still a raging alcoholic.

Wish me luck. I'm hoping like hell. Without putting any feelings into it.

Morans

I went to pick up the California Pizza Kitchen my wife had called in, and when I got there the doors were locked since it was close to 9 PM. This group of like six people were standing just inside the door, maybe getting ready to pay at the little waiter's kiosk. I try to open the doors, and they yell "IT'S LOCKED. THEY'RE CLOSED."

I yell back, "I'M HERE TO PICK UP"
This chick who almost opened the door turns to the guys and is like, should i let him in?

The guys yell "THEY'RE CLOSED"

I yell back, "I'M HERE
TO
PICK UP"

Everyone looks at each other. Bunch of fuckin' dumb COWS.

Finally someone opens the door. "They're closed." I walk in. Yeah I know they're closed, what are you, the fucking security guard? OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, DIPSHIT

I go over to the Take Out counter. Waiting. The two mexican cooks see me. Waiting. Two waitresses see me. Still waiting. A manager guy sees me. STILL FUCKING WAITING. He talks to a waiter guy who is doing something at some counter. The waiter guy turns around and sees me. Oh! Duh.

He comes over, "Yeah I was just telling him I have a pickup but I don't know if he's going to show."
Well I've been here, nobody wanted to fucking greet me or tell any other employees about it!

Fucking morons. Buncha fuckin' dipshits.

This is why almost nobody gets ahead in life. Almost no-one has the drive I do, to see a customer waiting and, even though it's not your job, just go over to them and let them know what's up. It makes customers like you, it opens doors, and sooner or later someone will (may) promote you because of it.

Fuckin' idiots.

I have a picture someone emailed me, of a protester guy holding up a sign that says
USA GO HOME
MORANS

Edit: Found the pic:

Instant Messenging Myself

I'm going to write this like I was talking in instant messenger.

I've been chatting on instant messenger with a couple chicks from that BDSM personals site
I notice the more serious submissives are bitchy, and try to get you to wuss out
I mean like, try to see what they can get away with
if they can get away with anything, the guy's too soft
if I'm attracted to a girl that's fine, because it makes me want to slap her around for it, but if not, it annoys me, i'm like, wtf am i talking to your snide remark making ass for?
Hm, this one chick, i found her with a sub profile saying she is new and wants a sugar daddy (COUGHwhoreCOUGH), and a dom profile saying she's a pro
So, she's totally hard up for money now and says she can't make her car payment
Is desperate
I could do anything at all to her, etc
So, I was being more blunt because A) i don't care if she says Fuck off, and B) i know i can definitely get away with it
right now
So I asked her why she claims to be a newbie when in reality she's a pro Domme, etc
she claimed she is new to being a sub for pay, but not a Domme, so that was semi-acceptable to me, even though we all know she's a whore
So I started asking like do you date anybody without them paying, etc
and she actually was honest about it
as in, So far, only girls for free
and she's dating a girl right now
but guys have to pay
etc
I asked what she does for money if she's so broke, like, why isn't she going on more dates, etc
she said she does some modelling
translation, PORN
so I ask for whom
She tells me
I google it
Find it
I go, "isn't that Ty Endicott's deal?"
(i happen to have used a stolen password to one of his sites, btw, so i know his style)
"Yeah, how did you know that?"
"Why? "
"Just wondering. So how do u know him?????"
"I know some people in the industry. Why does it matter?"
"Just wondering if u can tell me anybody else who is looking for models, i need the work bad"
"Badly. It's an adverb. Anyway, I'll let you know if I hear anything."
lol
then uh
She said she shot some shit for Rodney Moore
She's pretty thick, so I asked for which line, and she said "Chubby Chasers of course"
I told her "When Rodney is fucking his big girls he says some stuff that's really stupid sounding, plus, it's insulting and demeaning."
We started talking about it, and she goes "oh i know he totally did and i had bad self esteem about it for a week and a half afterward"
I was like Jesus Christ you poor fucked-up poo-butt
WTF are you doing in the industry?!
But, you know. I'm sure she's drawn to it
It's funny because even though a lame ordinary anything job sucks, you can at least make your car payment every month
So, that was my point. That he hurt her self esteem
it wasn't just "on the set"
and pure professional, no feelings involved
To me it's stupid, and it shows you how fucked the porn industry really is too
Everyone, especially the girls, claim it's just work and they love it and are choosing it
but in reality I think they all hate all of it
not to say it's not fucking hot as fuck to watch
BAM!!
Oh the humanity
God please kill me now for being such a horrible person
I'm pathetic, that's for sure
lol
I see pathetic white trashers and I yell "AAAAAAAHH!!" because I see the same pathetic traits in myself
I hate them, and I hate me for being barely any better than them
My friend Donna says, "well, just depends on your value system
you value money
then if you don't live up you feel bad
i don't value money at all
i don't like people more if they have a cooler car
etc"

I don't value the money itself
I value the ability to get it
I'm too fucked up to get as much as I should be able to
And my enemies sure can
even though they're dumb
way dumber than me
and they know it
And they rip me off too
they can make money off my ideas, and I can't even do that
not real money like them
Something is fundamentally wrong with how my brain works
I know I can be a nice person, and I think that's a lot more important than money
But it sucks being a fuckup
I wish I had been on Ritalin since I was like 9
I would be so much more organized and happier I bet
and richer
2 weeks ago I decided to get back on the Concerta that I tried a few years ago, considering I didn't even take it long enough to get started working
But then I promptly got distracted and forgot all about it
didn't make an appointment to get a prescription
two weeks later, here I am talking about it

crap i just realized i already told the story about this girl, in the preceding blog entry.

Conversation With A Budding Porn Star

So, I've been talking to this other chick from the BDSM site. I will write more later, I gotta go to bed - yes, I've been able to get things under control a bit lately; have hardly been whacking off but three or four times a day - but, it was a very strange experience.

At first it was like she wanted to pretend like she just wanted a sugar daddy and wasn't a hooker. Then when I got more and more out of her, it turned out she had shot some film. Now, this is a big girl, so I mentioned that the guy she had shot for says some pretty stupid and degrading (and not in a sexy way) things to the more heavyset girls in his videos. She agreed, and wrote, "i know and it hurt my self esteem for like a week and a half afterward."

Man. I pitied this poor girl. At first I thought she was a closed-off pro who I could get rough with, but instead, she's some mixed up poor lost soul.

Multiplicity

A man's heart may have a secret sanctuary where only one woman may enter,

but it is full of little anterooms which are seldom vacant.

~Helen Rowland

I Have A Dream - Part III

The History, part III

Two years after that, I "looked L. up" (looked him up in order to come in contact with J., his girlfriend) again. I was a pretty different person: My hair was two years' long, and I was very tan and fit, from working outside every day, and I had a cool car. I can't believe I can't remember the details, but somehow I lucked out and ran into her outside her apartment she shared with three guys. I can't remember how I even knew where she lived, but that week she was just moving out from (which I knew meant "breaking up with") my friend L., or should I say, from L.'s dad's house, where they lived.

What I do remember is, she looked phenomenal. Her figure was truly a perfect 10. Her waist must have been 20", and her ass was incredibly round; muscular, not fat (not that a fat ass is bad). She was definitely a woman now. Her round breasts levitated as if they were filled with helium, and a sexy grin forced its way across her creamy face as she looked me up and down on the summer sidewalk. I had never been eyeballed so overtly, and it was incredibly flattering. I had never thought of myself as hot before, but I knew I was now fit and decent looking. She suggested we should hang out when she got done moving, and asked for my phone number, and gave me hers.

That Friday night at 9:00 P.M., the phone rang. Or should I say, my mom's phone rang - I, too, like my friend L., was living at home after finishing part of college. It was J. on the phone; she invited me over. I casually but enthusiastically accepted. I didn't want to sound too eager, or it might blow what I saw as the small chance I thought may have had to have sex with her. When I hung up though, I sprinted to my car, which I had heavily modified: Bigger engine, better transmission, three carburetors, exhaust headers, deep and rumbly muffler, wide wheels and tires, etc. By the time I was closing the driver's door with my left hand, I had started the engine with the key in my right, and was reaching for the gearshift. I raced to the freeway, powersliding sideways around corners like I was in a car commercial or action movie. Once on the freeway, I put the orange needle on 140 mph and the missiles on cruise while I chanted "Ohpleaseohpleaseohplease, please god let me get laid. Please god let me get laid. PLEASE god let me get laid!"

Thirteen minutes later I pulled up to her house, took a moment to compose myself, and went up the stairs. "Oh my god, you sure got here fast! That was like 15 minutes!" I flipped my long hair and feigned offhandedness: "Oh really? Hm. I guess there was no traffic." I lived 45 minutes away, and behind me my car's exhaust system emitted a telling dull orange glow underneath the car, making a fast tick-tick-tick sound as it cooled down. The automotive equivalent of a horse that's been run hard and put away wet.

We hung out in her eclectic bedroom watching public access TV and a documentary on Lotto winners, until late at night. I was just a kid, didn't know what was up or how to be smooth yet - or assertive - so finally late at night, she made a move with the old "I need a backrub" ploy. I was such a dumbass, I thought I MIGHT see a tiny pinprick of a chance on the horizon. When she pulled off her tank top (no bra) face down so I could massage just her skin, I prayed I could somehow slowly sneak my way around to her breasts. But finally she just flipped over. Hmm. Pierced nipples, too. Hmm.

I will take this moment to explain that the entire night, she sneezed repeatedly, since she was allergic to my shampoo or conditioner.

As I played with her breasts, she became irritated. Her attitude, not her nipples. She wanted me to move the piercings in a certain way, and apparently it felt good when L. did it and uncomfortable when I did it.

We made out, and I went down on her, but kept my jeans and boots on. Her pussy was the most acidic-tasting of any woman I'd been with before or since. And feeling inside her was another unique sensation I have yet to find again: she was smooth inside. I mean way more than normal; it was like I was feeling a shiny silicone rubber surface. The strangest thing.

L. had introduced her to both masturbation and orgasms, and I don't know whether he was just heavy handed, or her sexual response needed a lot of stimulus, or she just typically has sex when she's not really turned on yet, but, she informed me that her clit had to be rubbed VERY vigorously for a long time in order to have an orgasm. Sometimes, she says, she injures herself.

Finally at like 4 a.m. I asked her whether she had to go to sleep so she could work tomorrow. Suddenly she was really pissed: "We both KNEW that's what was up when I called you at 9 o'clock on a Friday night." "I didn't! I mean, I was hoping..." "Whatever. Just go, then." "Nononono," I protested, and managed to talk my way back into the gates of heaven, which, unbeknownst to rookie me, had been wide open and waiting the entire time.

But I couldn't enter. I had whacked off like four times earlier that day, and I was so nervous, it was like trying to put a marshmallow into a parking meter.

The whole experience was very uncomfortable. But she was really hot and I knew I wanted more.

Over the next couple of months, we sort of dated. It was an exciting fling - and by the way, that night we spent talking, a couple years prior? She said she had wanted me to nail her. Dammit!

Strange Encounters

So, I hit up this kind of fat chick on the BDSM site. She claims to be 22, cute face, big tits, big ass. She seems kind of bitchy in email. I get her Yahoo email, and I add her to my Yahoo Instant Messenger list, the Harry Tasker list of course, not my normal one.

I look up her screenname in Yahoo Profiles. Oh, my; she's been registered there for 5 years. Since she was... 17? If we believe her.

We start chatting yesterday and she has like no personality, like wooden. I start thinking, she's either a total bitch, or she's a hooker. She emails me some pics, and her "Display Name As" comes up with a full name. I dig around on the internet for that name along with her city, and, oh my! First off, I find her phone number. Second, I find a listing for her on an escort service page. It's from last year and it claims she was 21 at that time. Maybe she IS 22. Anyway it's definitely her. Same body type, same ass, same way of typing.

So today I ease into it by mentioning this club in L.A. that has a karaoke night that lots of porn stars happen to go to on one certain night, kind of an underground cool club scene. I tell her that "lots of pro girls and porn stars" go. She replied that her guy friend goes there sometimes. Then I say, "So, are you full time pro or part time or do you meet people to party and have fun, or what?"

Her: "what you mean" [sic]
Me: "Well,"
Me: "(link to the escort service page featuring her) Isn't this you?"
Her: "ahahahah whered u find that"
Me: "I recognized your ass. I have a photographic booty memory."
Her: "yuor funny."
Her: "i did it for fun a year ago, i was broke needed money"
Her: "i didnt even get 1 email"
Me: "Oh, ok. You are just really cute, so I wanted to know what the real deal was, that's all."
Her: "it's all good. i wont charge you for a date ahahahaha :)"
Me: "That's cool, I won't charge you either."
Her: "what made u look on that site?"
Me: "I didn't, I just have a photographic booty memory, I told you already."

Then on came the greenish yellow, poorly lit webcam, where I got to watch her doing her limp hair with the curling iron. She really wasn't my type; I wasn't sure I could even do her. I asked about her guy friend and called him a suitcase pimp, to which she claimed to not know what the term meant. I told her not to be coy but explained it anyway. I hit on her pretty bluntly and she ate it up. She claimed her guy friend doesn't even know she's "on the site" - not sure which site she was referring to since I know she's on more than one.

She showed me her tits on demand, though.

Even if I can't bring myself to fuck her, maybe I can cram an 18" jelly dildo all the way up her ass. I saw it in a video once; I guess it bends and slides around that 90-degree corner of the rectal shelf, then up into the lower intestine.

But for now it's a cat and mouse game, where I'm seeing how far I can get with her and she's seeing whether she can trick me into thinking she's not a pro, or maybe she's really NOT a pro, or not any more, or something.

Losing My Sex Drive / Chasing The Dragon

I have no interest in sex right now. It's happened like twice in the past two months, and to a lesser degree it's been an overall feeling that's increased over the past year or so.

That doesn't stop me from having 7-10+ orgasms a day, though.

I don't even really want to. I'm not feeling the slightest bit horny, but I find myself compelled to whack off. I'm in the shower trying to get done, and I find myself trying to have an orgasm but wishing I could stop and just get on with my life. I'm in there for an hour, jerking away, trying to think of anything that gets me even remotely horny, just so I can come and get it over with.

It's not that I have any desire to get off, like when you're horny and need release. It's more like a heroin addict who feels like shit and needs another hit to just feel normal.

And another parallel about smack addicts is, after a while, the heroin doesn't even get them feeling that great. It just relieves the pain and makes them feel ok. When I was in jail, a guy once remarked to another guy, something about how you know you got a problem when you need X amount of heroin "just to get right." For me it's almost the same way. Most of the time my orgasms don't even feel that great. Actually it's not a valid comparison: I feel ok without them, but if the idea of getting off crosses my mind, I'm screwed. I have no impulse control.

When I was stuck in the shower for this morning's hour, I decided I needed to stop and not have any orgasms for like a month or more, and get really horny, just like the old days. I need to reset my internal pleasure meter and my seratonin reuptake inhibitor thingies and all that, in my brain. Assuming it's possible. I've read that if you overstimulate those parts of your brain, it permanently changes them.

Like with speed, for example. I'm sure that's what's happened to me. I don't feel much pleasure in life and I have stimulated my pleasure center so much, the only way to feel good is to have a really mind-blowing orgasms. The problem is, it takes more and more to get me interested.

I'm going to try. We'll see. Here goes.




I'm tempted to whack off one last time right now, but I'm trying not to.