I've been listening to a lot of stand-up comedy lately. It's kind of the only thing that is making me smile right now. But it also inspires me to write more. Whether it's hearing something and thinking, "Well, I'm much better than that, and I don't have a Comedy Central Special," or "Wow, that was amazing. I'm gonna steal that." Or whatever. So I've been writing a lot of different things. Because I'm inspired by virtually everything, I think that that is going to be my style. One liner jokes, stories, funny observations, angry ramblings, the lot. That way you appeal to everyone, and when you appeal to everyone, it's more... money.
I will perform some of it soon at a place where people can do that. Then I'll be rich and famous. Overnight. Yep, just like how it happens to everyone else.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
In Between Bottom & Hell with a Garden Trowel
I can't help but feel like I'm dying, or dead rather. There's nothing for me here. I'm just waiting for the flesh to decay, wasting away in this empty and depressing box. And instead of just letting the earth consume me, I have to express what little I am still able to feel in an alternative way.
Going to Chicago
You and I, we’ve got aspirations
And a windy city invitation
What’s keeping us here, what’s there to offer
But emotional dead ends and homes that falter
Let’s go together, let’s flee this city
Let’s make our way out of mediocrity
Let’s do it right now, let’s make our stand
Out to the unknown, hearts in each other’s hands
What will happen if we drift apart
Who will have a better brand new start
When will we ever see each other again
Why dwell on what has not yet been
Let’s go together, let’s flee this city
Let’s make our way out of mediocrity
Let’s do it right now, let’s make our stand
Out to the unknown, hearts in each other’s hands
And a windy city invitation
What’s keeping us here, what’s there to offer
But emotional dead ends and homes that falter
Let’s go together, let’s flee this city
Let’s make our way out of mediocrity
Let’s do it right now, let’s make our stand
Out to the unknown, hearts in each other’s hands
What will happen if we drift apart
Who will have a better brand new start
When will we ever see each other again
Why dwell on what has not yet been
Let’s go together, let’s flee this city
Let’s make our way out of mediocrity
Let’s do it right now, let’s make our stand
Out to the unknown, hearts in each other’s hands
Friday, June 1, 2007
Vroom Vroom!
After the success of Gone in 60 Seconds and Gumball 3000 and Fast and Furious (x3) and Redline and the list goes on, I decided to cash in on that experience. I came up with ideas for my own movie titled, "Cars that Drive Fast" and its sequel "Cars that Drive Really Fast" and what the hell, a third installment that will be aptly dubbed, "Cars that Drive so Goddamn Fast, Hot Girls' Clothes Tear Off to Its Speed."
The first movie will be about a hot shot rebel playing by his own rules who is totally a slick named Drake Boss (AKA Drake the Snake), and is like, "This cat ain't a rat," pointing at himself with "cool thumbs." He's all badassing his car around town in races and whatnot, and his brother gets into some trouble with the Race Mob and owes like a lot of money, and that's when the hero shows how much of a cool heart throb he is by protecting his bro and getting him out of it. He gets it on with the hot love interest of the movie who also is a rebel hot shot, so it's like a double turn-on for Drake the Snake. He loses because the Race Mob are cheaters with unregulated engines and stuff, but it doesn't matter, because the hero will have a backup plan of epic proportions. Somewhere in the end, he'll insult the Mob boss with words and his brother will say, "Burn!" and then they speed off (burn = insult; burn = burn rubber - double meaning, this will get a cheer from the audience). And then, Drake the girl and his bro race off into the horizon.
The second movie will be about a hot shot rebel playing by his own rules who is a hardcore badass named Ace Strong (AKA Haste Ace) and is like "I ain't got wings, but you're gonna see me fly," thrusting his chest out. He's the leader of a drag race town where slicks and chicks race for money and then out of nowhere, some gang of bad guys who are also racers kidnap his younger sister who wants nothing to do with racing and wants to be a doctor. After seeing how hardcore this guy is, we now see him vulnerable and worried and this gets him an easy lay with the town honey that all the guys want. She's one of those badass hot shot girls who take no orders from anyone except her man. The gang of racers want to trade the ownership of the race town for his sister's life, and he's like, "Let's race for it!" And it's totally on. The race gang cheat by sabotaging Ace's engine through a spy mechanic. But Ace has an Ace up his sleeve (this can also be said in the movie so the audience will be all like, "Ahh, I get it.") Ace wins and the race gang leave town in their dumb cars while all embrace and ride toward the sunset.
The third movie will be about a hot shot rebel playing by his own rules who hits it and doesn’t quit it named Bobby Fierce (AKA Bobby), and is like “I don’t take crap, I dish it out” showing his smooth tan and tattoos. He’s racing the streets of Tokyo because it’s legal there with drugs ruling the city and all. His son gets kidnapped by the Yakuza Japanese mafia because they don’t like that Bobby’s races interfere with the traffic (drug trafficking, pun - get it? The audience will be like, “yes.”). The son’s birth mother and Bobby are on the rocks, but this feat reunites them and rekindles a forest fire of love and sex. She is one of those badass moms who will kick ass, but is also smokin’ hot. The Yakuza want to make a trade. Whoever wins the race will win the streets of Tokyo. Bobby loses the race, because the Yakuza use their ninja powers to render his racing car useless. But he’s ready for that. He custom built an American model-type car to compete at the last minute another race and wins because it’s an American made car and America never loses to Japan. He can say something like “I just dropped a bomb on you,” to the Yakuza boss as he speeds away into the horizon with his family, but towards the East because it’s backwards down there.
Well, there you have it. I’m going to make assloads of cash making these movies.
*By the way, this was an Eric Blevins-style movie pitch written by me. If you don’t know who that is, please Google “Eric Blevins” or visit http://www.bobanddavid.com/talent.asp and look up the archives.
The first movie will be about a hot shot rebel playing by his own rules who is totally a slick named Drake Boss (AKA Drake the Snake), and is like, "This cat ain't a rat," pointing at himself with "cool thumbs." He's all badassing his car around town in races and whatnot, and his brother gets into some trouble with the Race Mob and owes like a lot of money, and that's when the hero shows how much of a cool heart throb he is by protecting his bro and getting him out of it. He gets it on with the hot love interest of the movie who also is a rebel hot shot, so it's like a double turn-on for Drake the Snake. He loses because the Race Mob are cheaters with unregulated engines and stuff, but it doesn't matter, because the hero will have a backup plan of epic proportions. Somewhere in the end, he'll insult the Mob boss with words and his brother will say, "Burn!" and then they speed off (burn = insult; burn = burn rubber - double meaning, this will get a cheer from the audience). And then, Drake the girl and his bro race off into the horizon.
The second movie will be about a hot shot rebel playing by his own rules who is a hardcore badass named Ace Strong (AKA Haste Ace) and is like "I ain't got wings, but you're gonna see me fly," thrusting his chest out. He's the leader of a drag race town where slicks and chicks race for money and then out of nowhere, some gang of bad guys who are also racers kidnap his younger sister who wants nothing to do with racing and wants to be a doctor. After seeing how hardcore this guy is, we now see him vulnerable and worried and this gets him an easy lay with the town honey that all the guys want. She's one of those badass hot shot girls who take no orders from anyone except her man. The gang of racers want to trade the ownership of the race town for his sister's life, and he's like, "Let's race for it!" And it's totally on. The race gang cheat by sabotaging Ace's engine through a spy mechanic. But Ace has an Ace up his sleeve (this can also be said in the movie so the audience will be all like, "Ahh, I get it.") Ace wins and the race gang leave town in their dumb cars while all embrace and ride toward the sunset.
The third movie will be about a hot shot rebel playing by his own rules who hits it and doesn’t quit it named Bobby Fierce (AKA Bobby), and is like “I don’t take crap, I dish it out” showing his smooth tan and tattoos. He’s racing the streets of Tokyo because it’s legal there with drugs ruling the city and all. His son gets kidnapped by the Yakuza Japanese mafia because they don’t like that Bobby’s races interfere with the traffic (drug trafficking, pun - get it? The audience will be like, “yes.”). The son’s birth mother and Bobby are on the rocks, but this feat reunites them and rekindles a forest fire of love and sex. She is one of those badass moms who will kick ass, but is also smokin’ hot. The Yakuza want to make a trade. Whoever wins the race will win the streets of Tokyo. Bobby loses the race, because the Yakuza use their ninja powers to render his racing car useless. But he’s ready for that. He custom built an American model-type car to compete at the last minute another race and wins because it’s an American made car and America never loses to Japan. He can say something like “I just dropped a bomb on you,” to the Yakuza boss as he speeds away into the horizon with his family, but towards the East because it’s backwards down there.
Well, there you have it. I’m going to make assloads of cash making these movies.
*By the way, this was an Eric Blevins-style movie pitch written by me. If you don’t know who that is, please Google “Eric Blevins” or visit http://www.bobanddavid.com/talent.asp and look up the archives.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
The Weekend Seminar
I assess the situation one more time, remembering that it is easy to overlook the obvious. Yes, he's definitely dead. Did I kill him? Indeed I did. Well, I'm glad that's over with. Let's move on. How do I go about getting the body out of my house?
You see? I'm already onto the next thing. In many situations, people will spend too much time on one subject, unable to move on in life. The same situation described earlier could happen to a number of people, but not everybody reacts in the same manner. Some may stare in disbelief at the dead body while still gripping the knife or, in some cases, the vial which once held poisonous poison. Our mission here is to bring total cognisance to our patients, to keep them completely aware and ready for the next obstacle in life.
Here's another example of trying to move on in a difficult situation. I'm in line at a local grocer. The man in front of me has eleven items, and I have but three items, yet this is the "10 Items or Less" checkout aisle. I grab all of his items and toss them in different directions away from the counter, some even breaking and spilling out its contents onto the recently waxed floor. Of course, instead of just accepting that he was wrong and "moving on," as we are trying to encourage, he decides that attempting to take up my very busy afternoon with angry words will fix his problem. And because I am in quite a hurry, I am ready to move on with my own life, so I spray him in the face with half a can of mace. Thus ending my current problem, I am ready to move on with the next obstacle in my life. How will I be paying? Credit Card. Will I need more mace soon? Yes, but I will get it on my next trip to the grocer.
And it can be that simple for you, too. Problems can and will happen anywhere anytime, and you have to be with the program or against it. And let me tell you, if you are against the program, then there's two things you need to know: 1)Enjoy, at age 50, wasting your time staring into a mirror deciding why your life was a waste rather than, at age 50, accepting that your life was a waste and then going out for a smoothie or window shopping for a buck knife. 2)I've said what I've said, and I'm not gonna let you waste my time trying to convince you otherwise - I'm done with you. Goodbye. See how easy that was. Now I'm ready to discuss other topics with you. Like celebrity gossip or Jack-O-Latern carving tips. And when I'm done talking about that, I'm not gonna beat a dead horse silly about it. Let's move onto the Hockey Hall-of-Fame or why flies fly around so damn much. It's that easy, folks.
This seminar is over now!!!
You see? I'm already onto the next thing. In many situations, people will spend too much time on one subject, unable to move on in life. The same situation described earlier could happen to a number of people, but not everybody reacts in the same manner. Some may stare in disbelief at the dead body while still gripping the knife or, in some cases, the vial which once held poisonous poison. Our mission here is to bring total cognisance to our patients, to keep them completely aware and ready for the next obstacle in life.
Here's another example of trying to move on in a difficult situation. I'm in line at a local grocer. The man in front of me has eleven items, and I have but three items, yet this is the "10 Items or Less" checkout aisle. I grab all of his items and toss them in different directions away from the counter, some even breaking and spilling out its contents onto the recently waxed floor. Of course, instead of just accepting that he was wrong and "moving on," as we are trying to encourage, he decides that attempting to take up my very busy afternoon with angry words will fix his problem. And because I am in quite a hurry, I am ready to move on with my own life, so I spray him in the face with half a can of mace. Thus ending my current problem, I am ready to move on with the next obstacle in my life. How will I be paying? Credit Card. Will I need more mace soon? Yes, but I will get it on my next trip to the grocer.
And it can be that simple for you, too. Problems can and will happen anywhere anytime, and you have to be with the program or against it. And let me tell you, if you are against the program, then there's two things you need to know: 1)Enjoy, at age 50, wasting your time staring into a mirror deciding why your life was a waste rather than, at age 50, accepting that your life was a waste and then going out for a smoothie or window shopping for a buck knife. 2)I've said what I've said, and I'm not gonna let you waste my time trying to convince you otherwise - I'm done with you. Goodbye. See how easy that was. Now I'm ready to discuss other topics with you. Like celebrity gossip or Jack-O-Latern carving tips. And when I'm done talking about that, I'm not gonna beat a dead horse silly about it. Let's move onto the Hockey Hall-of-Fame or why flies fly around so damn much. It's that easy, folks.
This seminar is over now!!!
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Chocolate Birthday Cake
Carl was cleaning out his Showtime Rotisserie & BBQ machine when he thought to himself, "I've never had the chance to eat chocolate birthday cake before." He put down his Stain-O-Glass Polish Remover and tiny scrub pad and paced back and forth for a while with these thoughts mutating. He thought about why he hadn't had the chance yet. In the twenty-three years of his life, every birthday he had experienced only turn up with ice cream, pies, candy, that one year when his estranged father "returned" and got a life-size gingerbread house, but never had he had the pleasures that most non-allergic childs have when devouring a perfectly new, perfectly moist chocolate birthday cake. In mid-pace, Carl stopped and realized that his birthday was, in fact, on the rise and just two weeks away. "Chocolate birthday cake won't be too far off now," thought the elated man in his small apartment kitchen. He made a note of it on his nude Wonder Woman calendar. Then he blushed and tucked his head like so many snapper turtles when confronted by a naked superhero.
That chocolate birthday cake was all Carl talked about for the next week. He told his co-workers, his bus companions, his parents, his myspace friends, his Massive Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game friends, even his pet cat, Harley Quinn. "Oh, chocolate birthday cake on my birthday, I'm so excited," he would boast. He set out to make this the best day of his life. He wrote a blog on his blogpage to fully describe how he felt and what he had planned to do. His cake was going to be perfect at three layers with the "Dutchest of Dutch chocolates" and the "Hitler of German chocolates" as he deliciously put it. The cake would be fresh from Mr. Rich Baker's Bakery Rich Cakes, "the finest baked cake in all of the great state," as the ad in the Chicago Reader would promise. And as the icing on the cake, the icing on the cake would be imported from the Choco Capitol of the world, Switzerland. It will be Hell or high jelly to ruin this grand special day for Carl Hershey.
"Tomorrow's the big day, Harley Quinn," said Carl to his friendly Calico cat, "Ooh, I can't wait to dig my teeth into that decadent delicious treat." He fell asleep listening to the sweet sounds of Pet Sounds by The Beach Boys.
Carl was very excited to wake up the next morning. He quickly threw on all of his clothes and rushed to Mr. Rich Baker's Bakery Rich Cakes. He looked at the piece of edible art that lay so delicately beautiful in its tight box, and tears began streaming down his cheeks. He thanked Mr. Rich Baker and his lovely busty wife, payed the cost and fees, then headed home. In the car, he couldn't keep his eyes off the cake, which made driving just a little difficult, but not so different than changing discs in the CD player. He arrived home safely and headed up the three floors to his apartment and layed the cake on the hall table. His two roommates were not home, most likely at work and class, respectively. He quickly went into the kitchen and returned to the hall with a knife as to cut the cake into slices and taste for himself, quite possibly, the richest and most moist cake ever. He plopped the corner slice of the first layer onto his cold white china saucer dish, making such a powering thud that a bit of the thick savory icing slid off and onto the wooden floor. Although he saw it, he didn't think to clean it just now; he was so close to enjoying his birthday treat. With his trusty Star Wars Episode I Darth Maul Light Saber Spoon, he dipped into the cake and pulled into his mouth a devilish-sized piece and slid the spoon out slowly as to fully understand each and every sensation that his papillae could receive. His salivary glands along with his tear ducts had the appropriate liquids pour out in an orgy of complacency putting him in a bliss that only Buddhists gain when reaching Nirvana His brain went through a small relapse causing his nervous system to fail for only 60 milliseconds, but that's all his legs needed in order shift slightly forcing him to quickly catch balance which brought his foot onto that very dollop of icing that he had carelessly spilled earlier. Upon landing on this spot, he was taken away from that place of zen and started to slip. After having a slight out-of-body experience, Carl had forgotten about the knife he was wielding and while trying to find balance, the hand with the knife instinctively grabbed onto the hall table, but because he was focused on maintaining his composure, he unknowingly had the knife pinned down between the edge of the table and his thumb, pointed upward. By now, the icing was still slippery under his leather patented shoes, and so he slipped once more, falling neck first into the knife he so balanced on. Lying on the ground, bleeding rapidly, the last taste in his mouth, of course before the blood finally chokes him to death, was his delicious chocolate birthday cake. And he died happy and with no regrets.
The moral of the story is "Make sure you put your pet in your will, because who watch after them when you die?"
That chocolate birthday cake was all Carl talked about for the next week. He told his co-workers, his bus companions, his parents, his myspace friends, his Massive Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game friends, even his pet cat, Harley Quinn. "Oh, chocolate birthday cake on my birthday, I'm so excited," he would boast. He set out to make this the best day of his life. He wrote a blog on his blogpage to fully describe how he felt and what he had planned to do. His cake was going to be perfect at three layers with the "Dutchest of Dutch chocolates" and the "Hitler of German chocolates" as he deliciously put it. The cake would be fresh from Mr. Rich Baker's Bakery Rich Cakes, "the finest baked cake in all of the great state," as the ad in the Chicago Reader would promise. And as the icing on the cake, the icing on the cake would be imported from the Choco Capitol of the world, Switzerland. It will be Hell or high jelly to ruin this grand special day for Carl Hershey.
"Tomorrow's the big day, Harley Quinn," said Carl to his friendly Calico cat, "Ooh, I can't wait to dig my teeth into that decadent delicious treat." He fell asleep listening to the sweet sounds of Pet Sounds by The Beach Boys.
Carl was very excited to wake up the next morning. He quickly threw on all of his clothes and rushed to Mr. Rich Baker's Bakery Rich Cakes. He looked at the piece of edible art that lay so delicately beautiful in its tight box, and tears began streaming down his cheeks. He thanked Mr. Rich Baker and his lovely busty wife, payed the cost and fees, then headed home. In the car, he couldn't keep his eyes off the cake, which made driving just a little difficult, but not so different than changing discs in the CD player. He arrived home safely and headed up the three floors to his apartment and layed the cake on the hall table. His two roommates were not home, most likely at work and class, respectively. He quickly went into the kitchen and returned to the hall with a knife as to cut the cake into slices and taste for himself, quite possibly, the richest and most moist cake ever. He plopped the corner slice of the first layer onto his cold white china saucer dish, making such a powering thud that a bit of the thick savory icing slid off and onto the wooden floor. Although he saw it, he didn't think to clean it just now; he was so close to enjoying his birthday treat. With his trusty Star Wars Episode I Darth Maul Light Saber Spoon, he dipped into the cake and pulled into his mouth a devilish-sized piece and slid the spoon out slowly as to fully understand each and every sensation that his papillae could receive. His salivary glands along with his tear ducts had the appropriate liquids pour out in an orgy of complacency putting him in a bliss that only Buddhists gain when reaching Nirvana His brain went through a small relapse causing his nervous system to fail for only 60 milliseconds, but that's all his legs needed in order shift slightly forcing him to quickly catch balance which brought his foot onto that very dollop of icing that he had carelessly spilled earlier. Upon landing on this spot, he was taken away from that place of zen and started to slip. After having a slight out-of-body experience, Carl had forgotten about the knife he was wielding and while trying to find balance, the hand with the knife instinctively grabbed onto the hall table, but because he was focused on maintaining his composure, he unknowingly had the knife pinned down between the edge of the table and his thumb, pointed upward. By now, the icing was still slippery under his leather patented shoes, and so he slipped once more, falling neck first into the knife he so balanced on. Lying on the ground, bleeding rapidly, the last taste in his mouth, of course before the blood finally chokes him to death, was his delicious chocolate birthday cake. And he died happy and with no regrets.
The moral of the story is "Make sure you put your pet in your will, because who watch after them when you die?"
Friday, May 11, 2007
The "Over 18" Aisle
I was recently shopping at a megastore of sorts. You know, one of those giant media stores that sell DVDs, Cds, Televisions, iPods, etc. aplenty. Well, I'm doing as a I do, which is perusing down every single aisle looking for different types of Cds and DVDs. Whatever I fancy, right? I even go through some of the software items. Who knows what I'll find? Well, it's coming to the end of my search, and I notice just to the left of the Anime, in respective, to the right of the Horror, is the "Adults Only" "Over 18" section. And you've seen this, I'm sure, in Wherehouse Music or Tower Records or wherever. It's in the same order and function as the other DVDs, except there's a black plastic cover over the all the rows with the phrase "Adults Only" or something to that extent. Now, I'm thinking, "Hmm, I've practically looked in every other possible spot. Why not just take a little peek. Maybe there will be something I like."
A little about me. I am not a big fan of nudity. Nor do I care to watch hardcore porn or just sex in general. There, I said it. Is it completely strange and out of the norm? No. Are there plenty of guys just like me… in the whole world? Sure. Does anyone I know fit that category? Absolutely not. I just don't get it - the nudity. Ask away all the questions you must, but it's always gonna come down to… I just don't get it - this obsession that men tend to have with full frontal nudity. To tell the truth, I don't even think that the vagina, or the penis for that matter, is an attractive part of the body. I can't even look at it. The sight of one (any one - hairy, clean, buzz cut) makes me cringe. Again, don't ask why. It just does. The anatomy of both male and female just doesn't do it for me. How do I get off, you may ask yourself to me. Easier than you think. You see, I am one of those types who favors more the word tease in "striptease." A clothed woman (fully or partial) turns me on more than one that is naked. We can psycho-analyze and Freud this all night, but what it all boils down to is that I enjoy the act of wanting to know what she's like underneath, but not actually go there. And I've got a list of very intricate, specific, and precise fetishes that require little or no work, however, can be very, very (highlight on the very) difficult to achieve, because the wardrobe choice of most women are very much similar. Legs displayed with shorts or, my favorite, a pleated skirt turn me on more than any vagina and that affection increases vastly when those same legs are covered in knee-socks, but are there spam emails coming to me that say:
"Wet, hot, shaved, pink legs waiting for you" and "Schoolgirls, who actually wear the correct uniform with tie, blouse, skirt, socks and shoes, keep their clothes on and move around sexy like for you."? No.
Women like to wear ankle socks - boo! Women wear thigh highs - only when accompanied with garter belts, but otherwise - boo! Hey, I can't help it if I'm so G*d damn weird and particular about these things, but if you are a girl and you wear boring shoes or sandals all the time for that matter and are not into dressing up or role-playing, then I have no time for you. I've done that lots of times - just stop seeing someone because they are fucking boring. Great face, great legs, great attitude, great sense of humor, but I'm sorry - if you're wardrobe sucks and you feel "weird" dressing up, I can't. I can't. Tried it, failed, wasted both our time, so I'm not trying anymore.
I don't like to view most pornographic material, but there are things I do enjoy much. These fetishes go beyond thought of pretty much everyone I know, so to avoid embarrassment, I will not reveal to you what it is. I will mention that porn on the Internet is insanely easy to find. An eleven-year-old looking for a Pokemon website will find it at haste. What I like is so much better than nudity. There's a creative process when it comes to good original erotica. Naked is too easy. Way too easy. In fact, of all things to be viewed on the human body in any form or fashion, being nude happens to be of two extreme categories. The easiest outfit to pull off and the biggest message to transcend. I want the protagonist, if you will, to be beautiful (not desperate and raunchy), intelligent, desirable, and at least have some acting training. Whether being sexy, angry, man-handled, or tied up, this girl needs to sell it, or I'm not getting it up tonight. But the things I like either (a)cannot be found because they are too specific or not worded properly or not popular enough or (b)will tend to involve hardcore nudity at some point or will include full frontal sex for no reason.
More on sex for no reason - it just sprang into my mind, actually, and I thought I'd expand. Sex for no reason is almost always poorly acted and in some porno where the only and full motivation of the "piece" or "scene" is to engage in intercourse at the "director's" discretion. This will happen in soft core porn as well, but there are stakes in soft core porn that make it okay, plus I like soft core porn, so I don't mind. I think the reason why I like soft core porn better is, obviously, because of the lack of full frontal nudity and extended sex scenes, but also because in most cases there is actual exposition and possibly some role-playing and/or costumes (which I enjoy at most height). So I guess it's the exposition that turns me on? Hmm, how do I put that into erotic words to a girl I plan to date, or even marry. It's funny that when I just happen to catch a soft core porn on Showtime or something, and these time traveling broads are trying to save the future by going to the past or vice versa. And they end up as prisoners with the guy who is also the chosen one or something to that effect. Well, it's a typical "Gee, I guess we're all done for" kinda mood that in most other movies, you try to figure a way out of it. But in this movie, it becomes a "Wow, that's kinda hot that you and I are doomed" kinda mood. Then the sex. You see? I can enjoy that. It makes better sense than the pizza guy and the lonely housewife… as far as sex goes anyway. And also there's the exposition. Quick question, why is it necessary that the sex scenes have so many fade scroll edits and that the scenes are longer than the movie? I don't know. Again, that's just me - I don't care to watch a guy, naked, and a girl, naked, have sex for 20 minutes, naked. It's boring. And if you're a bloke, and this is what you like, and you've got hundreds of porno-related videos, guess what. It's all the G*d damn same! Two (or three or four) naked folks with a whole lot of holes that get plugged one way or another. You've seen one, you've seen them all. Wow, I am the gayest straight guy ever. Exposition? Good acting? No vagina or cum-shots? Outfits for G*d's sake? And while we're on that subject, why are gay men, or men in general, who are in pornos all look the same? Has anyone else noticed that, or am I just delusional? They all look like, well, men. Your typical very-in-shape man with the same color skin, same color hair (dark brown or blonde) in the same shortened style. I know gay guys, personally. I know a lot in this town of Chicago, hell, I live just a few blocks from "Boys Town." And none of the men in gay porn look like that. Picture it, I'm sure you've seen the cover of a gay porn DVD or VHS or magazine or Internet or television. Do they look like that or even sound like that? Where's the high friendly voice? Where's the great fashion sense? How come they're not listening to Pet Shop Boys or Erasure or Judas Priest? Okay, whatever. I don't care, I don't watch it, but think about it anyway, and send me something to prove me otherwise.
So! Back to what I was saying. That's right come back to me, now. Scroll back to the top if you need your memory jogged. I'm at the megastore, now entering the "Over 18" section ready to see if they might, maybe, probably not have something I might like. Now I'm feeling really sheepish and nervous, because I've never ever gone through the adult section of a public store before. Sure, I'll do it online when my roommates are gone or late, late, late at night, but never have I had the balls to just go "browsing" at your local shoppe. I look around and over my shoulders. Okay, just wait until that guy leaves, and then do a quick glance over. I go to the front of the aisle and peel back to black panel to view the titles they have. "Girls Who Like Anal," "How Many Holes?" "Girl on Girl," "Big Black Cocks," (what?) "Naughty Vixens." Ooh. I like the "naughty." It implies that the girl might be submissive, evasive, or even exploitive. I pick it up to read and view pictures on the back. Keep in mind the entire 30 seconds I've been in this section, I'm constantly looking past my peripherals and sweating profusely. Like I'm going to get caught? "How dare you look at that legal video that the store is willfully selling!" I'm looking at the back of the DVD, and it was what I expected - nudity, nudity, nudity. Blech! I placed it down behind the black panel and continued my hastened search. "Nude University," "Girls with Strap-ons," (why?) "Jessica." Simple, but the gal on the cover is in white knee-socks, so I take a gander on what it's about. As I grab the box and look at the back, a very attractive older woman turns the corner down my aisle (older, not old). She is married and, judging from the items in her carry-round basket, has at least one child, but probably not more than that. I already have a hard drive and three regular DVDs in one of my arms, so that leaves the "adult" movie on the other. The minute I see her come down the aisle (most likely to get to the horror or anime section), I trip up and do the following sequences in under three seconds:
I shift the arm with all my other items up slightly which alters my balance.
To gain that balance back, my goal is to put the "adult" DVD on top of the pile, so I have one load instead of two.
At the same time, my brain wants to avoid humiliation of being in possession of porn and wants to put the DVD back on the shelf.
I am also trying to ease back into the Anime section which is just four paces behind me.
I am doing this to try and fool the woman into thinking that I was there the whole time and that I'm not a pervert who watches porn.
In trying to accomplish all of these objectives in mere seconds, it's not impossible to assume that something will, and did, go wrong.
Suffice to say, I ended up on the border of Anime and Adult on one knee, re-tying my shoelace as my pile of things lay to my left out of sight. Did she notice I was looking for smut? Or did she just assume I was finished with Anime and decided to tie my shoe? Either way, it's obvious she saw my little stumble onto the floor, because she asked if I was okay. And being the improv superstar that I am, I calmly replied, "Yeah, I just trip on my shoelace. Thanks."
I put the DVD back in its place as soon as she was gone, mopped the sweat off my forehead, paid for my items, and went back home to spend an hour searching for the things I like that are not conveniently commercialized in megastores. Oh, I'm so particular and picky.
A little about me. I am not a big fan of nudity. Nor do I care to watch hardcore porn or just sex in general. There, I said it. Is it completely strange and out of the norm? No. Are there plenty of guys just like me… in the whole world? Sure. Does anyone I know fit that category? Absolutely not. I just don't get it - the nudity. Ask away all the questions you must, but it's always gonna come down to… I just don't get it - this obsession that men tend to have with full frontal nudity. To tell the truth, I don't even think that the vagina, or the penis for that matter, is an attractive part of the body. I can't even look at it. The sight of one (any one - hairy, clean, buzz cut) makes me cringe. Again, don't ask why. It just does. The anatomy of both male and female just doesn't do it for me. How do I get off, you may ask yourself to me. Easier than you think. You see, I am one of those types who favors more the word tease in "striptease." A clothed woman (fully or partial) turns me on more than one that is naked. We can psycho-analyze and Freud this all night, but what it all boils down to is that I enjoy the act of wanting to know what she's like underneath, but not actually go there. And I've got a list of very intricate, specific, and precise fetishes that require little or no work, however, can be very, very (highlight on the very) difficult to achieve, because the wardrobe choice of most women are very much similar. Legs displayed with shorts or, my favorite, a pleated skirt turn me on more than any vagina and that affection increases vastly when those same legs are covered in knee-socks, but are there spam emails coming to me that say:
"Wet, hot, shaved, pink legs waiting for you" and "Schoolgirls, who actually wear the correct uniform with tie, blouse, skirt, socks and shoes, keep their clothes on and move around sexy like for you."? No.
Women like to wear ankle socks - boo! Women wear thigh highs - only when accompanied with garter belts, but otherwise - boo! Hey, I can't help it if I'm so G*d damn weird and particular about these things, but if you are a girl and you wear boring shoes or sandals all the time for that matter and are not into dressing up or role-playing, then I have no time for you. I've done that lots of times - just stop seeing someone because they are fucking boring. Great face, great legs, great attitude, great sense of humor, but I'm sorry - if you're wardrobe sucks and you feel "weird" dressing up, I can't. I can't. Tried it, failed, wasted both our time, so I'm not trying anymore.
I don't like to view most pornographic material, but there are things I do enjoy much. These fetishes go beyond thought of pretty much everyone I know, so to avoid embarrassment, I will not reveal to you what it is. I will mention that porn on the Internet is insanely easy to find. An eleven-year-old looking for a Pokemon website will find it at haste. What I like is so much better than nudity. There's a creative process when it comes to good original erotica. Naked is too easy. Way too easy. In fact, of all things to be viewed on the human body in any form or fashion, being nude happens to be of two extreme categories. The easiest outfit to pull off and the biggest message to transcend. I want the protagonist, if you will, to be beautiful (not desperate and raunchy), intelligent, desirable, and at least have some acting training. Whether being sexy, angry, man-handled, or tied up, this girl needs to sell it, or I'm not getting it up tonight. But the things I like either (a)cannot be found because they are too specific or not worded properly or not popular enough or (b)will tend to involve hardcore nudity at some point or will include full frontal sex for no reason.
More on sex for no reason - it just sprang into my mind, actually, and I thought I'd expand. Sex for no reason is almost always poorly acted and in some porno where the only and full motivation of the "piece" or "scene" is to engage in intercourse at the "director's" discretion. This will happen in soft core porn as well, but there are stakes in soft core porn that make it okay, plus I like soft core porn, so I don't mind. I think the reason why I like soft core porn better is, obviously, because of the lack of full frontal nudity and extended sex scenes, but also because in most cases there is actual exposition and possibly some role-playing and/or costumes (which I enjoy at most height). So I guess it's the exposition that turns me on? Hmm, how do I put that into erotic words to a girl I plan to date, or even marry. It's funny that when I just happen to catch a soft core porn on Showtime or something, and these time traveling broads are trying to save the future by going to the past or vice versa. And they end up as prisoners with the guy who is also the chosen one or something to that effect. Well, it's a typical "Gee, I guess we're all done for" kinda mood that in most other movies, you try to figure a way out of it. But in this movie, it becomes a "Wow, that's kinda hot that you and I are doomed" kinda mood. Then the sex. You see? I can enjoy that. It makes better sense than the pizza guy and the lonely housewife… as far as sex goes anyway. And also there's the exposition. Quick question, why is it necessary that the sex scenes have so many fade scroll edits and that the scenes are longer than the movie? I don't know. Again, that's just me - I don't care to watch a guy, naked, and a girl, naked, have sex for 20 minutes, naked. It's boring. And if you're a bloke, and this is what you like, and you've got hundreds of porno-related videos, guess what. It's all the G*d damn same! Two (or three or four) naked folks with a whole lot of holes that get plugged one way or another. You've seen one, you've seen them all. Wow, I am the gayest straight guy ever. Exposition? Good acting? No vagina or cum-shots? Outfits for G*d's sake? And while we're on that subject, why are gay men, or men in general, who are in pornos all look the same? Has anyone else noticed that, or am I just delusional? They all look like, well, men. Your typical very-in-shape man with the same color skin, same color hair (dark brown or blonde) in the same shortened style. I know gay guys, personally. I know a lot in this town of Chicago, hell, I live just a few blocks from "Boys Town." And none of the men in gay porn look like that. Picture it, I'm sure you've seen the cover of a gay porn DVD or VHS or magazine or Internet or television. Do they look like that or even sound like that? Where's the high friendly voice? Where's the great fashion sense? How come they're not listening to Pet Shop Boys or Erasure or Judas Priest? Okay, whatever. I don't care, I don't watch it, but think about it anyway, and send me something to prove me otherwise.
So! Back to what I was saying. That's right come back to me, now. Scroll back to the top if you need your memory jogged. I'm at the megastore, now entering the "Over 18" section ready to see if they might, maybe, probably not have something I might like. Now I'm feeling really sheepish and nervous, because I've never ever gone through the adult section of a public store before. Sure, I'll do it online when my roommates are gone or late, late, late at night, but never have I had the balls to just go "browsing" at your local shoppe. I look around and over my shoulders. Okay, just wait until that guy leaves, and then do a quick glance over. I go to the front of the aisle and peel back to black panel to view the titles they have. "Girls Who Like Anal," "How Many Holes?" "Girl on Girl," "Big Black Cocks," (what?) "Naughty Vixens." Ooh. I like the "naughty." It implies that the girl might be submissive, evasive, or even exploitive. I pick it up to read and view pictures on the back. Keep in mind the entire 30 seconds I've been in this section, I'm constantly looking past my peripherals and sweating profusely. Like I'm going to get caught? "How dare you look at that legal video that the store is willfully selling!" I'm looking at the back of the DVD, and it was what I expected - nudity, nudity, nudity. Blech! I placed it down behind the black panel and continued my hastened search. "Nude University," "Girls with Strap-ons," (why?) "Jessica." Simple, but the gal on the cover is in white knee-socks, so I take a gander on what it's about. As I grab the box and look at the back, a very attractive older woman turns the corner down my aisle (older, not old). She is married and, judging from the items in her carry-round basket, has at least one child, but probably not more than that. I already have a hard drive and three regular DVDs in one of my arms, so that leaves the "adult" movie on the other. The minute I see her come down the aisle (most likely to get to the horror or anime section), I trip up and do the following sequences in under three seconds:
I shift the arm with all my other items up slightly which alters my balance.
To gain that balance back, my goal is to put the "adult" DVD on top of the pile, so I have one load instead of two.
At the same time, my brain wants to avoid humiliation of being in possession of porn and wants to put the DVD back on the shelf.
I am also trying to ease back into the Anime section which is just four paces behind me.
I am doing this to try and fool the woman into thinking that I was there the whole time and that I'm not a pervert who watches porn.
In trying to accomplish all of these objectives in mere seconds, it's not impossible to assume that something will, and did, go wrong.
Suffice to say, I ended up on the border of Anime and Adult on one knee, re-tying my shoelace as my pile of things lay to my left out of sight. Did she notice I was looking for smut? Or did she just assume I was finished with Anime and decided to tie my shoe? Either way, it's obvious she saw my little stumble onto the floor, because she asked if I was okay. And being the improv superstar that I am, I calmly replied, "Yeah, I just trip on my shoelace. Thanks."
I put the DVD back in its place as soon as she was gone, mopped the sweat off my forehead, paid for my items, and went back home to spend an hour searching for the things I like that are not conveniently commercialized in megastores. Oh, I'm so particular and picky.
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