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.


.

Lying Game/Addicted to Love

Taylor (1999) suggests that the combination of providing social and sexual reinforcement imbues the Internet with “compulsive qualities”, leading some individuals to spend increasing amounts of time involved with it. Taylor et al (2001) state that for some individuals increasing mastery of the Internet provides a sense of power and control that may be missing in other aspects of their lives. The rapid acquisition of images goes hand in hand with the rapid acquisition of technical skills.

Taylor (1999) proposes that such engagement can result in the development of a “collector syndrome”, characterised by the compulsive acquisition of pictures. "All of these factors can come together and we see the emergence of the 'collector syndrome,' the compulsive acquisition of pictures for their own sake, rather than a discriminating selection. I believe some of the recent seizures of child pornography collections involving many thousands of pictures illustrate this.” (Taylor,1999) This concept is supported by Young (1998), who describes a distinct clinical concept of Internet addiction characterised by:
• excessive online activity
• a sense of exhilaration and competency as technical mastery and navigational ability improves
• predominant use of two way communication functions (i.e. chat rooms, multi-user dimensions, newsgroups or email)
• significant academic, relationship, financial and occupational disruptions.


The above excerpts were from a study on child pornography. Taylor says he and his reseachers have one of the largest collections of child pornography in the world, at 50,000 images. None of mine are child porn or anything illegal (if it's illegal, I probably find it a turn-off in the first place), but, my porn collection is over 500,000 pics and movies. Ten times bigger than what a researcher believes is one of the biggest collections in the world. I do not possess nor view even one picture of child porn - it is a line I will not cross. I don't even look out of curiousity. Child porn is as wrong as wrong can be; it injures a child, and childhood sexual abuse has really hurt people very dear to me; I wish I could erase their experiences with a wave of a magic wand. Besides which, I don't find prepubescent humans sexual. 20 year olds are hot looking, but a 16 year old with no boobs or ass yet and a child's face is really nothing to get hot and bothered about. She probably is not that interested in sex yet. On the other hand, 35 and 40 year olds are really hot, in a purely sexual way. And they are a lot more likely to know their own sexual responses and be a lot more comfortable with their own body and with their partner's. And best of all, they are in their sexual prime, so they're more horny than ever.

I think that is why pedophiles and child molesters are interested in little kids: the mature, sexual women are scary if you're timid. If you don't feel like a man with a man's appetite for a full grown woman with big tits, big ass, big thighs, and a voracious sexual appetite, you might feel like she's going to embarass you. Me, I respond to exaggerated secondary sex characteristics. Sure, girls who work out all the time and have a small, round butt look incredible, but when I see a girl with a big, fleshy ass (well, I do want it to be round) and a nice soft tummy, my dick wakes up with an Ed MacMahon HELL-LOoooo! Maybe that's why I also like girls with small tits and big asses; it's a way a small girl can look very sexy to me. I even read an article about a porn star (Alyiah) who ran an escort service back East, specializing in blonde girls with small tits and big asses.

When I was about seven, in the mid/late 1970's, my mom taught at my elementary school, so during the summer, she'd be there, and sometimes I'd go with, and hang out or explore, since I didn't have much else to do. I liked hanging out with the receptionist, who was an absolute '70's beauty. She was in college, so she must have been 19 or 20. I still remember her as if it were yesterday. Tan skin, golden and brown Farrah Fawcett hairdo, huge brown eyes, long red nails. She would talk to me as she sat around filing her nails and answering the phone those rare times it would ring. One day we went to the pool together; I think she wanted to lay out. She wore a red and white diagonally striped two piece string bikini, and she was an absolute knockout. Round boobs, wide hips.... I felt something I didn't understand inside. All I knew was I wanted her. Not meaning "wanted to fuck her." No, all I knew was that something inside me hurt, my heart hurt, and I felt a primal urging to do something. I didn't even know WHAT. I just felt an insistent urge, like when you have to pee or are famished or thirsty and your body keeps telling you to do something about it.

Over the years I've thought about contacting her. She still lives in town. My mom knows where she works. I recently casually asked my mom about her. She seemed to have a dim view of her and gave me the impression the woman was a ditz, or something not great.

Tell that to my penis.

Even so, I haven't contacted her, and it's been 28 years or so. Now I'm 35 and she's probably 48. Hopefully she still has her looks. They say life passes most people by while they're making grand plans for it. The same is true for me. I was planning to do a few things when I was 26. Now I'm still planning and it's coming up on 10 years later. So in a way I hope I contact her. Just to change things.

“…With this hobby we get bored after a while with the usual and we risk a bit to get new stuff or actual experience. It’s a natural progression. Like stealing. You start small. Get bored. Go for bigger stuff…” (Taylor, 1999; p. 5),

Speaking of stealing in general, I do try to avoid doing it, but, I am pretty good at it. I go to the plant nursery to buy five palm trees, and tell the checkout person, "I'm not going to bring them all up now, can you just ring me up for five, and I'll back my truck up?" Sure, of course, sir, no problem. Then I take six or so. If you walk out like a doofus absorbed in your thoughts and not like a guilty "trying to look innocent" person, nobody will even look twice. You can walk up to almost any sort of situation and if you look very matter of fact and even bored, people will assume you're supposed to be there. Anyway, another method at the nursery is, I'll buy some King palms and some Imperial palms - if I were to get caught (which I never am, not that I make a practice of stealing), I'd become "confused." The clincher would be "I would have felt like an idiot bringing the plant back, because, I don't even have ROOM for one extra palm in my little garden!"

Or at a take-out restaurant, if you order two small items and the person behind the counter says "Are you number 37?" as they slide a giant bag of food across the counter, you say "Yes, I am." Again, if questioned, act normal, just, be "confused." "Huh? 37? Yeah, see, here's my receipt." "Actually this says you are 43." "Huh? Oh! Ha ha, yeah I was zoning out or I woulda noticed how darn big that bag of food is. No way I could eat all that! I woulda got home and been like 'Whaaat??' Ok, cool, thanks!"

I once talked my way out of a felony I had committed. I was in the back of the police car and I just acted very nice but confused, like a complete doofus. Eventually the cop said, "Look, you seem like a nice guy, just a little... " shakes his head, not wanting to be mean to an idiot, "Look, just get the hell out of here. Any other cop would haul you off to jail and tow your car, but just, get the hell out of my sight." "Yes sir, I'm sorry, I mean, I didn't mean t-, I mean I would never- I don't - ok anywayz thanks!" Yeah, right.

Now, when I say to act confused, I don't mean ACT confused, because that's a dead giveaway. You probably are a bad actor. I am. What you have to do is BE confused. Do what a confused person would do. And to do that you have to actually BE confused. Take all your thoughts and stick them away someplace where they can only whisper faint suggestions to you through a padded tube. You need to actually become the lie.

If you want to act innocent, when the cops show up at your door and ask you to come down to the station, don't say "Sure!" and grab your keys, to show how innocent and willing you are to prove your innocence. A real innocent person would go "To the station? Why??" and "Yeah but what'd I do? I mean you actually think I d- Am I under arrest?!" and "Do I have to go? I mean, I don't know what all you are thinking but I don't even want to get involved in your investigation. I'm sorry if I can't help you but a police station is about the last place I want to be. If you have any questions you want to ask me now, or if you want to take my number and call me, I guess that's fine, but, you know, I mean, come on." Just act exactly as if a cop came to your door and asked you to come down to the station to talk about some crime you DIDN'T do. 'What? Hell no!'

This approach works for lying to women, too. They always say how the socipaths and con men who were the most convincing, seemed to be totally genuine. This is how they do it.

I don't do it out of being a sociopath or wanting to take money from a woman - as I said before, I would never. No, I do it for the love, and to give them love.


.

Smooth Criminal

..."non-aggressive" pornography (pornography prominently available in mainstream market), that which excludes rape and violence but graphically depicts all other forms of sex (group, homosexual, switching, anal, oral, etc.) was found to:

1. desensitize the viewers to the material's breaking of sexual taboos, causing the viewers to become more accepting of it and much less concerned about its negative effects;
2. cause the viewers to regard rape as a more trivial offense, with men particularly showing major increases of sexual callousness toward women;
3. increase the viewers' loss of compassion for women as rape victims. In a sense, then, this kind of pornography as male entertainment promotes the victimization of women.

- Dr. Victor Cline, University of Utah

The other day the wife, baby, and I, and her parents, went to the botanical gardens. I was wearing a Cuban-style hat (a sort of a bowler but in straw, not rough straw like a peasant's hat or something, but high quality straw kind of like a wicker chair), and a vintage short sleeve shirt, untucked. It wasn't a Guayabera but the overall effect was sort of 50's-hip-vintage-cuban.

I was filming a bunch of different stuff with my customized video camera which now looks pretty different and unusual in a neat way - that sounds lame but you'll see what I mean in a minute. Anyway it has a great big long lens on it. Without fail, someone will see it and ask me what it is. The day before, the day where I met the deviant coffee chick, three people asked me about it in an hour and a half, and almost everybody else swiveled their necks to check it out. It's interesting, I was thinking it would look ridiculous to have such a monster lens on it but it worked out differently.

Anyway the next day at the gardens, a bunch of people asked me about the camera again. I got separated from the family unit - they went another direction without telling me, which went over real well with me - and as I was walking along a narrow, covered garden path I passed by two hip looking girls in their late 20's/early 30's. One was a tall brunette with a sort of bob haircut, smallish tits, cute face, and the other was chestnut-haired in sort of a Jennifer Aniston cut, pretty average, though on paper she was the prettier one. Still, she didn't do anything for me.

Anyway, the neon sign went off in my head, buzzing: GIRLS .........GIRLS ......... GIRLS ......... GIRLS...but as always I played it cool. I made eye contact with the tall one as I walked by, and she stopped mid-sentence and did a double-take to look at me as I walked by. Then they continued talking, more hurriedly, in hushed tones.

I kept walking but I noticed they had gotten up and had sort of rushed to catch up to me. "Is that a camera?" the shorter one asked. I could tell they thought I was cute and was a boyfriend candidate for one of them, and maybe something else. I started explaning what I had built, and the tall one said, "She's a photographer," indicating the brown-haired one. She sort of fumbled around explaining how it was her previous job (yeah right) and that she is now an actress. "We're both actresses, actually." Oh really. Sounds perfect. Or not! Actresses have to be the biggest problem-girlfriends there are. Them and strippers. Well, strippers/prostitutes/porn stars. I could already tell they were more interested in being the center of attention than in listening to me. Anyway I bantered with them for a while, and the subject turned toward independant films. "Garden State blew my mind," said the tall one. I mentioned the soundtrack and the shorter one said, "Ooh, I have to get that." Tall one responded with, "Oh, we have it, I'll... " she paused. Had she just accidentally said 'we' and blown it? Was she looking to cheat on her boyfriend/husband, and/or move on? She wasn't wearing a ring. And, neither was I. "I'll let you copy it."

They had caught me off guard, "slippin'," or I would have conducted myself differently and gotten their phone numbers or email addresses, and found a way to plant a seed to explain the situation if they happened to see me or had seen me already, with the family. In the end, I was worried that I'd turn around and the family would be right behind me, so I didn't ask for their numbers. They invited me out to ice cream with them, but I said I had to catch up with the people I was with. They told me their full names, though. I should have at least gotten their email addresses.


I've been reading some camera and video and camcorder forums lately, and I notice this one guy trying to customize his camcorder like mine. Here's what he just wrote:

The problem is this : I live in Canada and although $7.50 is very inexpensive, I have to factor in shipping to Canada, money exchange and wait time. So $7.50 end up being like $20+ for something that might be marred, marked or scratched - a second that might be in the end, useless - whereas making one, I can scrour places today and find what I need. Yes, maybe it will be a waste of time, but it will be a grand adventure and learning experience.

That sums up most of the Canadians I have known. Not all, but most. They're willing to waste time and a little bit of money by choosing what they know is the wrong thing, and then try to excuse it by justifying it. I know this guy who wants to build a really fast car, by buying something sporty and dropping in a huge, heavily modified engine. He told me he's contemplating buying this scabrous old beater, just a complete rust bucket, sitting in the snow with a ruined interior, hole in the body, flat tires, the whole deal. Why? Because he can get it for $500. I pointed out how if he spent $1,000 on a better instance of the same car, he'd be way ahead. He agreed, but said something about how he had given the guy his word that he'd buy the car by saying "Ok, I think I want it" over the phone. Give me a break. If you want to masturbate by buying a car (you're just doing it because it feels good) then be a man (or woman) and just declare "I'm buying this piece of shit because I feel like it. You don't like the idea? I don't give a shit!" At least then it'll be only one thing to be ashamed of: the waste of money, rather than two things: the stupid decision AND the lame justifications.

Fresh Meat

I was kind of hoping my recently dimished libido would curtail my interest in other women. But today, on a trip to a nearby seaside tourist town, I found myself gawking at all manner of hot women, imagining and wishing.

At coffee I saw a fairly cute chick behind the counter. She pulled a couple of klutzy fumbles one right after another, dropping product and then scalding herself, and I smiled at her. When I went to wait at the pickup counter, I started bullshitting with her and flirting, hoping she didn't see my wife and child on the sidewalkoutside.

I asked her what the kanji tattoo behind her ear was. She replied, "Deviant" with a sort of devilish but sheepish grin. I thought, "Hm. Maybe she's into bondage." I correctly identified another one, a symbol, a band's logo, on her inner wrist. I asked her how many others she had. "Ten." I asked how much work was done on her back, since that's a pretty common place to get stuff. "A fair amount, but none on my lower back. I don't want to look like some sorority girl." I'm liking her more already.

She asks, "What's up with the decaf?" with a skeptical "are you shitting me?" grin. I used my most devilish smile, the one that never fails, and said, "When you have a lot of vices, you gotta... cut back wherever you can." She beamed.

Then I noticed the inside of her other arm. Red, diagonal welts. Hmm!

When I left, she made a point of saying, "Ok, see you later, (insert my name). Come back any time." Oh, I will. I will make a point of it.

I left, but tasting it, realized it needed lots of sugar or something, so I went in and over toward her area of the counter, where the condiments were. She told me again, "See you, _______,"
"I'll see you again." Oh yes, I will.

I bet I won't even have to try too hard to lie my way around, or out of, the wife and child situation. I wish I were wanting to resist the temptation but right now I don't feel it.

.

Jesus Christ

11:27 at night and the phone rings. It's my mother-in-law. "Were you guys asleep?"
I'm thinking, yes, and so was our INFANT. Key being, Yes, we WERE. You fucking woke us up! Jesus Christ, doesn't anyone respect the cutoff any more?

That's like shaking someone awake and asking "Were you asleep?" Well I fucking WAS!

Bad Grammar

God I hate bad grammar. You see, since I look at things analytically and literally, I get confused when people say stuff like "We granted a pass into Jason's personal hell and were able to film graphic scenes of a “real” celebrity in crisis with his addiction."
So I go "You granted a pass?"
"Yeah."
"To whom?"
"Huh?"
"You said you granted a pass. To whom did you grant this pass?"
"yeah, we granted a pass, he let us in."
"Ohhhhhhh you mean you WERE granted a pass." Not being a jerk, it just finally hits me what they meant (as it was so different from what they said). But of course they think I'm being sarcastic so they say "Fine, mister grammar. Whatever. Man, you're a dick."

DANGER - PORN.......¡CUIDADO, PORNOGRAFIA!

I swear, I need to be so careful. I was trying to actually get some stuff done today, like clean up around the computer and around the house, and finish these little things that have been bugging the hell out of me for months. When I went to put my shoes on, I thought, "I'll just sit in my chair at the computer to put them on." And then I thought, "Why not just surf a LITTLE porn, just for a moment?" Luckily I avoided it by getting up and starting to take the trash out and so on. But I only got like literally 60 seconds of work done before I sat down at the computer, thinking, "She'll be home soon, so I'll just rub one out real quick, to take care of my needs, so it's not bugging me later that I didn't do it when I could have."

My computer crashed last week and I don't have my normal arsenal of porn-downloading tools re-installed yet. I would, but I don't want to waste even a moment doing an install and a restart, and then have her come home, while I'm saying "Damn! I should have been downloading porn instead of installing software!" The ironic part is, it takes me many times longer to do it all by hand (pardon the pun) than it would take to reinstall my porn-gathering software.

Anyway my attempt to be productive today didn't work. I'm looking at the files I hurriedly downloaded, one at a time, by hand. The files start at:
5/13/2005 11:01 AM

and end at:
5/13/2004 12:12 PM

182 movies and clips; 277.3 megabytes of porn. All downloaded one at a time. I haven't even seen most of them; probably only a third. I wonder whether I ever will.

THE EFFECTS AND DANGERS OF PORNOGRAPHY:

Those who treat pornography victims report that many who are exposed to pornography progress through four stages:

1. ADDICTION: This addiction of the mind can be as powerful as any drug, alcohol, or cigarette addiction of the body. Flashbacks are also experienced.
2. ESCALATION: Need for rougher and more sexually shocking material in order to get the same sexual stimulation as before.
3. DESENSITIZATION: With continued exposure, what at first was gross, shocking and disturbing becomes acceptable and commonplace.
4. ACTING OUT: There is an increased tendency to start "acting out" the sexual activities seen in the pornography.

What was first fantasy, in time, becomes reality. All sexual deviations - the best evidence suggests - are learned. This often happens through a pattern of "masturbatory conditioning." What is viewed is first masturbated to at the fantasy level then later acted out in real life behaviour. This in my clinical experience nearly always disturbs the individuals' marriage or psychological equilibrium.

- Dr. Victor Cline, University of Utah

Lost. And Found.

Female, 21 Natchitoches, LA United States I am trying to overcome internet pornography. I hope to use this victory as a testimony in the future. Right now, I would like to use this journal to reach people who are going through the same thing as me. I will post everyday my web activity, and how I did with avoiding pornography.

7.27.2003

Day 1

Hi, it's my first day. If you read the description, you know that I'm logging my attempts to avoid pornography. Today, I didn't look at porn, as I spent the day with my family. I signed up for a free online course to help me overcome my addiction. For anyone who would like to try it, the site is www.settingcaptivesfree.com This seems like a good program. I am going to talk to my friend Sam tomorrow. He knows about my addiction and has been trying to help me through it. I'm going to list him as the person to e-mail my answers to the course to.

Posted on 7.27.2003 at 4:15 AM

7.28.2003

Day 2

I didn't really do anything with my struggle today, but I didn't struggle with it either. I had a really busy day, so I didn't get near a computer before about half an hour ago. I talked to my preacher this morning, and next Sunday morning, I am going to make a public profession of my faith in church. That's about it. Oh yeah, I told another person about my struggle, as I needed to use her computer to do the course at www.settingcaptivesfree.com Please remember to e-mail me if you are going through the same thing: dede02_2000@yahoo.com

Posted on 7.28.2003 at 1:09 AM

7.29.2003

Day 3

Okay, I forgot to do one yesterday, I had a really busy day. Nothing really happened with my struggle though. I did the course in front of a friend, because I was at his house spending the night with his sister, and I had to get it done. I don't think he noticed, but I had gotten to the point that I knew I had to do it, because I didn't want to lose focus and fall again. I spent the day with friends. My old roommate, Jenna, came up from home. She had her neice and nephew with her, and I kept them for a couple of hours while she got some business taken care of. Afterwards, I went to another friend's house and went swimming for the longest time. Then we watched Cinderella II, and I left. I came home, and was woken up this morning by the little girl I babysit, at 6:30 in the morning, I was an unhappy camper. Then I got online and did my coursework for the day.

Posted on 7.29.2003 at 7:28 AM

No further entries.

Sexual Addiction

The four-phase addiction cycle: preoccupation, ritualization, sexual compulsiveness, and despair can repeat itself unhindered and take over the addict's life, attacking the person's values, priorities and loved ones. Sex addiction usually accompanies other addictions and 81% of addicts were abused sexually as children.

Indication is for every 3 male sex addicts there is 1 female sex addict.

How can one determine when sexual behaviour is addictive? Signs of compulsive sexuality are when the behaviour can be described as follows:

1. It is SECRET. Anything that cannot pass public scrutiny will create the shame of a double life.
2. It is ABUSIVE to self or others. Anything that is exploitive or harmful to others, or degrades oneself, will activate the addictive system.
3. It is used to avoid or is a source of painful FEELINGS. If sexuality is used to alter moods, or results in painful mood shifts, it is clearly part of the addictive process.
4. It is EMPTY of a caring, committed relationship. Fundamental to the whole concept of addiction and recovery is the healthy dimension of human relationships.

- Dr. Patrick Carnes, Ph.D.

Cheaters

I really have more disdain than ever for cheaters. I don't even want to be one. I don't even log onto singles sites any more, not really. I do if I need to get off, but even then, it's like, not as good of a fantasy because I know I don't have the energy - or the means - to date them. I'm not working right now so I can't spend lots of money on them, nor do I have an excuse to be away from home in the first place.

But bigger than that, I just don't really have the desire right now, I don't think. It just seems like such a waste of time, and so sleazy.

But I don't know. Maybe it will change when I am raking it in again and am away from home, away from my rut. I am totally over the idea of romancing women, or even wanting to sleep with them, but at the same time, I watch a romantic movie and hear a very catchy song and my heart says Oh man I would love to be in love.

I think I'm about to start looking for work so we'll see what happens.

Hookups And Horses' Asses

So I went on a bunch of errands with the wife and baby yesterday. I swear it's either getting easier and easier to pull chicks, or I am getting better at noticing opportunities.

We got food at this place in a food court in one of the ritzier malls in Southern California - a place where the food court has no fast food, only restaurants with prepared food, type thing. Anyway this mexican girl behind the counter was all flirty with me, and then my wife walked up, but even so, the girl was still on me. Every time I went back to the counter to buy a water or get napkins or whatever, the girl was all over me. When I was leaving she still was saying bye and looking at me walk off and stuff.

Anyway I have this fucking dipshit on the phone. I bought something from this company and I just asked whether the ebay guy shipped it. He said, "Well I got it in my hand, let me go ask my guy if he shipped it."

I replied, "Well, if it's in your hand, it didn't ship, did it?"
"Well uh... yeah I guess we can ship it out today....."

Gee, ya THINK SO?

You fuckin' idiot.

He also complained that they lost money, and told me what they paid. I said "Well I guess you should have listed it with the starting bid at your cost, shouldn't you?" He gave me that stupid fake hearty, "Nawwww we can't do that!" Right, you can't, because you are too fucking stupid. He continued, "But I can complain, can't I? hyuk hyuk hyuk." Yes, you can do that. You can also never get my business again you miserable piece of shit.

I didn't even bother to point out that he didn't respond to my emails asking if they had other specific items I would have bought from them. So on the phone I just asked him again for those items and he said "I'd have to go check." Translation, 'I will never call you back. Why would I? I'm too lazy to even check now!'

Fuckin' jerk. Jackass. Please god let him not be an owner of that store. He doesn't deserve it.

Human Rights

Man, how depressing. I was just downloading some porn from a site featuring rough, gagging blowjobs. Not a pay site; I never pay for porn. The site offers short clips of content, and I found a way to download all the little clips and join them together into the large, original movie.

Anyway this chick had a tattoo on her arm which looked to say "In Loving Memory of My Dad," with a picture of what looks to be a 1950's Ford pickup truck. My God how depressing. Poor girl.

Ironically I was also simultaneously looking at website for a women's rights organization. My ex-girlfriend, my first real girlfriend, worked there for what looks to be a few weeks or something, earlier this year. One moment she was on the roster as a head honcho and another moment she's not. I haven't spoken to her of course. It's been 13 years since I've seen her. I know where she worked because I check her out on the internet from time to time. I'm proud of her. Considering the fact that she had been molested by her dad, his brother (her uncle), and their dad (her grandfather), she is doing pretty well despite the self-destructive tendencies her abuse created.

MILF time

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New Blood

All of a sudden I've got something going with... let me count them. Six girls.

20 year old: truly beautiful face, lush lips, smoky eyes, dark hair in a bob, kind of chunky.
27 year old: very cute face, aristocratic, well-travelled, totally kinky slut.
27 year old: My mistress. Latin, bedroom eyes, wide lips, painfully sexy cheekbones, great ass.
30 year old: Native american. Cute face, brilliant smile, big brown eyes, straight hair in a pageboy, semi-chunky.
35 year old: The Domme. Gorgeous face - movie star looks. Thick body, in a smokin' hot way.
36 year old: short, tan, cute, with brown and gold hair. No sexual inhibitions whatsoever. This is the one who fucked a dog.

It's nice to have them write me emails saying they miss me terribly and how wonderful I am. But I don't know how I'm going to juggle them all. Wait what am I saying? I know how I'm going to juggle them all. I'm great at it. I meant, I don't know why I'm going to bother juggling them all. I really don't even want a blowjob from any of them. But maybe I'm just tired; I o9nly got like an hour's sleep last night and the night before and the night before that. I'm hallucinating a bit and nodding off as I type. More to come.