It's just one of those things. You get a booty call from some cougar you were banging months before, go home for a handful of condoms, get over there, not quite as drunk as she is but almost, and you can't get it up because you realize she's way too old for you. The wrinkles and age spots stand out to you, the sagging catches your eye, and you know it's not HER fault, but it just makes your boy SAG and no amount of convincing will change his mind.
Okay, that's not fair, there's been a number of occasions in which I couldn't "perform," but I chalk it up to "performance anxiety." This time, though, I just couldn't help seeing the wrinkles and age spots and I try to tell myself I'm not a shallow person, but I totally am. What does that mean anyway? SHALLOW.
IF I like someone because she's genetically endowed with big tits and a tight ass, I'm shallow. IF I like someone because she's genetically endowed with great intellect and the capacity for a good personality, I'm NOT shallow. But aren't they both kind of the luck of the draw? Aren't they both in the jackpot?
Though some men find intelligent women intimidating. My self esteem is too good for that. I can accept an intelligent woman. But it's only because I'm (or would like to consider myself to be) an intelligent man. No intimidation there, I say, because you can be as smart as you want. I'm smart too, more often than not smarter.
But that's my hubris, my pride. Maybe if I met a woman who could convince me she was smarter than I was, I WOULD be intimidated. Actually, terrified. I do have a huge ego to take into account, but I haven't met a man yet who could convince me he is smarter than me. I see congressmen way dumber than I am, most of them actually, but they had the good fortune of, well, having a fortune, so they're congressmen and I'm nobody.
Obama actually is definitely smarter than me. One of the smarter presidents we've had in awhile, and thank God for that.
But the rest of these fuckers look like idiots to me. I'm a liberal, not a registered democrat because fuck that, but I'd call myself a liberal, at least a social liberal. I used to be a fiscal conservative, but now I'm not sure how to treat the economy. Seems to me like the "free market" thing isn't working out too great for most of us, and frankly the right has alienated me by having such medieval views on everything social, contradicting themselves at every turn when they claim to want "small government" and "personal liberties" and then saying "fuck you such-and-such a group that want rights." Yeah, so there's no way I'm siding with them if they're gonna be like that.
And there's no way I can fuck that cougar. I've tried, believe me have I tried, and it's not happening. Almost twice my age, and when we first met and I was too drunk to tell it was pretty much perfect. It worked out fine. Then we spent time in daylight, and I don't want to be a dick, I realize that I will get old someday too and twenty-somethings will have a hard time fucking ME, but I couldn't help but notice the years on her, the years she had on ME. And that's fine, seriously, and I wished I could have fucked her until we both came, a few times, but I really seem to need someone closer to my own age to be that turned on.
And I guess that's a good thing, it means I don't have an Oedipal complex (do you have to capitalize that?) or anything. But damn was SHE ever disappointed, and it sucks to disappoint people. People kind of rock, for as much as they totally suck, and it's a bummer to disappoint one of them.
And let me be clear, she does not gross me out, at all. She does turn ME on, and my dick got hard in intervals, when I was caught up in the moment, but when shit came down to it my boy backed right the fuck out of there. I'll admit, it might not be a lay I'd be proud of my whole life, and those are usually the ones that I try to dive into and my dick's like "No fuckin' way, dude, get outta here," because shockingly my dick might be smarter than my brain. But I'M MY BRAIN GODDAMMIT so why doesn't the dick obey me? And why is it smarter and more discerning than I am? Makes no fucking sense, does it?
But that's what's up.
I thank my lucky stars that this is a largely anonymous blog that gets read by nobody. Hopefully it's uninteresting to anybody but me, so they won't be fascinated enough to find out who the fuck couldn't get their dick hard for a cougar, but actually it doesn't even remotely matter.
"Limp-dicked motherfucker," or attempted?
Friday, February 24, 2012
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Ramblings On: Snippets, Fragments, Rants, and Howls
The only methodology my spiritual constitution agrees with is the creation of such incomplete nigh-nothings with barely a thing to say but that try to say it so poignantly. God damn my nature, god damn my society, ADHD fed into by the techno-soundbite generation with only enough focus to be distracted for hours on end and too much to worry about in this cruel universe to bother worrying at all anymore. Yes, I know there is famine and genocide, I know AIDS is spreading like a wildfire and there was a time when I cared and felt compassion but there is really nothing I can do, really nothing that any of us can do unless we have the medical-biological or economic or socio-political understanding needed to provide a cure, a solution, a resolution to any of these things but I'm no god and neither are you, neither is anybody. So why bother fretting what can't be helped? Protesters and activists endeavor to "raise awareness" and it makes them feel better I suppose but we're fucking aware already, and being aware changes nothing, ever; knowing that there are child soldiers doesn't make them cease to be, feeling sorry for people an ocean and two worlds away doesn't help them any. Sure, you can raise money to send to them but that's the hollowest gesture you can make, to throw money at them, saying "We have more of these meaningless symbols of status than we need, so here's five bucks for you to use the next time marauders torch your village and rape your daughters." Right. Real helpful. Do I have an alternative solution? No, of course I don't, I'm not Moses or Gandhi or some shit. I'm just complaining about all these people complaining about things they won't change—and yes that makes me one of those people. "Down with this sort of thing!" And that's why the sensible majority of us resign ourselves to foodyism, video games, underground music hipsterocracies and film snobbery because distraction is the only viable option to keep absolute insanity at bay. We know the world is a mad and maddening place and we have to shield ourselves from that or we lose ourselves and our minds as our thoughts come to reflect the thoughtlessness of reality and our sense conforms to the nonsense that is the turning square-edged wheel of the universe. You can't make me be a better person because you don't even know what a better person is, righteousness is a bitter fiction dreamt up by idealists who feared to acknowledge the darkness spun into the helices of their DNA like wool in an afghan.
There is a collective subconscious emerging from the post-pre-intellectual wonder that is the internet community which accepts and embraces this darkness and takes it full circle to an unapologetic universal hatred that does not exclude itself, a hatred in the name of which much good can be accomplished because it is a hatred so deep that it hates hatred itself, nods to this irony and then laughs at it while carrying it out. They call it Anonymous, and I can't think of a more appropriately inappropriate name for such a thing for when I read or hear about it I call it Anonymous but know that really it is Myself, you know it is Yourself, thoughts you nursed in private corners of your mind condemned as hellish and evil but to which you cannot deny some credibility. That same throbbing vein runs through the heart of the world and as they speak it you hear it as an echo of a latent voice in the back of yourself which you try to push aside or push down in vain, because here it is rising up from somewhere else, circling around from where you turned your back on it to come and confront your very face. That is Anonymous, and we know its true name but won't acknowledge that it is Ours.
The only methodology my spiritual constitution agrees with is the creation of such incomplete nigh-nothings with barely a thing to say but that try to say it so poignantly. God damn my nature, god damn my society, ADHD fed into by the techno-soundbite generation with only enough focus to be distracted for hours on end and too much to worry about in this cruel universe to bother worrying at all anymore. Yes, I know there is famine and genocide, I know AIDS is spreading like a wildfire and there was a time when I cared and felt compassion but there is really nothing I can do, really nothing that any of us can do unless we have the medical-biological or economic or socio-political understanding needed to provide a cure, a solution, a resolution to any of these things but I'm no god and neither are you, neither is anybody. So why bother fretting what can't be helped? Protesters and activists endeavor to "raise awareness" and it makes them feel better I suppose but we're fucking aware already, and being aware changes nothing, ever; knowing that there are child soldiers doesn't make them cease to be, feeling sorry for people an ocean and two worlds away doesn't help them any. Sure, you can raise money to send to them but that's the hollowest gesture you can make, to throw money at them, saying "We have more of these meaningless symbols of status than we need, so here's five bucks for you to use the next time marauders torch your village and rape your daughters." Right. Real helpful. Do I have an alternative solution? No, of course I don't, I'm not Moses or Gandhi or some shit. I'm just complaining about all these people complaining about things they won't change—and yes that makes me one of those people. "Down with this sort of thing!" And that's why the sensible majority of us resign ourselves to foodyism, video games, underground music hipsterocracies and film snobbery because distraction is the only viable option to keep absolute insanity at bay. We know the world is a mad and maddening place and we have to shield ourselves from that or we lose ourselves and our minds as our thoughts come to reflect the thoughtlessness of reality and our sense conforms to the nonsense that is the turning square-edged wheel of the universe. You can't make me be a better person because you don't even know what a better person is, righteousness is a bitter fiction dreamt up by idealists who feared to acknowledge the darkness spun into the helices of their DNA like wool in an afghan.
There is a collective subconscious emerging from the post-pre-intellectual wonder that is the internet community which accepts and embraces this darkness and takes it full circle to an unapologetic universal hatred that does not exclude itself, a hatred in the name of which much good can be accomplished because it is a hatred so deep that it hates hatred itself, nods to this irony and then laughs at it while carrying it out. They call it Anonymous, and I can't think of a more appropriately inappropriate name for such a thing for when I read or hear about it I call it Anonymous but know that really it is Myself, you know it is Yourself, thoughts you nursed in private corners of your mind condemned as hellish and evil but to which you cannot deny some credibility. That same throbbing vein runs through the heart of the world and as they speak it you hear it as an echo of a latent voice in the back of yourself which you try to push aside or push down in vain, because here it is rising up from somewhere else, circling around from where you turned your back on it to come and confront your very face. That is Anonymous, and we know its true name but won't acknowledge that it is Ours.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
First, become an excellent Reader. After that there is little one cannot learn.
To learn to Learn, to be taught to Self-Teach, is the greatest lesson next to Life itself.
Mastery of the elements defines humanity's history; mastery of the self will define its future. Animal became human, as unlikely an apotheosis as any, and rather than Fall backwards into the ignorant Paradise of Eden's moral indifference we must stride forward, ubermensch, to uncover the Infinite Divinity of Self, to become the Gods of our own little worlds.
We are Creators of Meaning; without us Meaningless Creation is something worth less than Nothing.
Knowledge Unknown is the only Frontier.
To learn to Learn, to be taught to Self-Teach, is the greatest lesson next to Life itself.
Mastery of the elements defines humanity's history; mastery of the self will define its future. Animal became human, as unlikely an apotheosis as any, and rather than Fall backwards into the ignorant Paradise of Eden's moral indifference we must stride forward, ubermensch, to uncover the Infinite Divinity of Self, to become the Gods of our own little worlds.
We are Creators of Meaning; without us Meaningless Creation is something worth less than Nothing.
Knowledge Unknown is the only Frontier.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
welcome to my new digital diary know that i know its high but just know that these words are alive to me and jive to me i aint fuckin round dont say it aint time for me i might just be the motherfucker that oedipus couldnt strive to be the highest peak i might just speak for hidin meek and bidin speech and makin like im live and bleak the lives we speak dont vibe with me so die and see what life can be
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
OCCUPY:
I. To employ, make use of.
1. trans. To keep busy, engage, employ (a person, or the mind, attention, etc.)
2.
a. To employ oneself in, engage in, practise, perform; to follow or ply as one's business or occupation.
b. To be busy or employed (in some capacity); to exercise one's craft or function; to practise; to do business, to work.
...
II. To be in, to take possession of.
5.
a. trans. To hold possession of; to have in one's possession or power; to hold (a position, office, or privilege).
b. trans. To live in and use (a place) as its tenant or regular inhabitant; to inhabit; to stay or lodge in.
c. intr. To hold possession or office; to dwell, reside; to stay, abide.
...
6.
d. To gain access to and remain in (a building, etc.) or on (a piece of land), without authority, as a form of protest.
7. To take up, use up, fill (space, time, etc.); to be situated, stationed, or seated at or in, to be at or in (a place, position, etc.).
8.
a. trans. To have sexual intercourse or relations with.
They've been fucking us so long it's about time
It's about Time, Time passed in past and wasted
Drunk on moments that fall finitely but seem not so
It's easy to look back, but looking forward
I have to wonder if all this, this sudden uprise
Of compassion and active insistent knowing, attention
Calling out and demanding with unified reprimand
If all this will be another magnificent failure
Lulled back to fat complacency with promises
That it'll all be resolved in the update of the new gadget
Or game or revamped piece of shit franchise, Newer
They say Newer is Better amd we tend to belive what we're told
Most of the time, so why not now? What is special
In the internet democracy of data, what are questions
That sunder the fossilized bones of this which,
In Memory, has always held us erect; misplaced Trust
Heredity, is stupidity genetic or do we insist on teaching it
And what of flaws which make one smarter than another, or two
Do we embrace or do we ask, What The Fuck?
The What more than The Fuck, but fucking Fuck is what
Has lasted so the soreness in our nuts and cunts
Makes us forsake the fucking What and Fuck ourselves
Right up the butt. So ask and though ye not recieve
Ask again until the asking asks itself and frees
Us up for asking Why The Fuck.
I. To employ, make use of.
1. trans. To keep busy, engage, employ (a person, or the mind, attention, etc.)
2.
a. To employ oneself in, engage in, practise, perform; to follow or ply as one's business or occupation.
b. To be busy or employed (in some capacity); to exercise one's craft or function; to practise; to do business, to work.
...
II. To be in, to take possession of.
5.
a. trans. To hold possession of; to have in one's possession or power; to hold (a position, office, or privilege).
b. trans. To live in and use (a place) as its tenant or regular inhabitant; to inhabit; to stay or lodge in.
c. intr. To hold possession or office; to dwell, reside; to stay, abide.
...
6.
d. To gain access to and remain in (a building, etc.) or on (a piece of land), without authority, as a form of protest.
7. To take up, use up, fill (space, time, etc.); to be situated, stationed, or seated at or in, to be at or in (a place, position, etc.).
8.
a. trans. To have sexual intercourse or relations with.
They've been fucking us so long it's about time
It's about Time, Time passed in past and wasted
Drunk on moments that fall finitely but seem not so
It's easy to look back, but looking forward
I have to wonder if all this, this sudden uprise
Of compassion and active insistent knowing, attention
Calling out and demanding with unified reprimand
If all this will be another magnificent failure
Lulled back to fat complacency with promises
That it'll all be resolved in the update of the new gadget
Or game or revamped piece of shit franchise, Newer
They say Newer is Better amd we tend to belive what we're told
Most of the time, so why not now? What is special
In the internet democracy of data, what are questions
That sunder the fossilized bones of this which,
In Memory, has always held us erect; misplaced Trust
Heredity, is stupidity genetic or do we insist on teaching it
And what of flaws which make one smarter than another, or two
Do we embrace or do we ask, What The Fuck?
The What more than The Fuck, but fucking Fuck is what
Has lasted so the soreness in our nuts and cunts
Makes us forsake the fucking What and Fuck ourselves
Right up the butt. So ask and though ye not recieve
Ask again until the asking asks itself and frees
Us up for asking Why The Fuck.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Is it always best to forgive? Or do some people need to feel your resentment to justify their own guilt?
If I say "Fuck you, you bastard" you don't have to tell it to yourself. If I don't, if I say it's okay, then who is there to hold you accountable but yourself?
It's so much easier to fight someone else than fight yourself.
If I say "Fuck you, you bastard" you don't have to tell it to yourself. If I don't, if I say it's okay, then who is there to hold you accountable but yourself?
It's so much easier to fight someone else than fight yourself.
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