May 2003 Archives

Since no one had anything to say about the ring idea, I have to assume that it's a bad idea or that no one cares.

Well I'm gonna do it anyway.

Old stuff that I didn't listen to anymore. I netted about $.35 each. SUCK!

But possibly not this week-end. I won't promise you anything I can't deliver.

Talking's good.

I didn't necessarily reveal everything but I admitted things that were significant to me. I found out that I once again caused problems for myself with black-and-white thinking.

Thank God.

Men Without Hats.

Over and over in my head.

This is the penance I must do for buying the cassette as a much younger man.

I guess we have different shower experiences.

The colossal disadvantage of an anonymous blog is that really you have to be alone when you're working on it.

Or you must have clandestine tools, but those really only reduce risk.

So, if it seems like it's been a while since I've updated this journal, it's because... I can't.

But that reminds me:

My Cyborgasm CDs. They're already ripped. I might post a track or two if there's interest.

Still not enough sleep but I feel less crappy than otherwise.

It's just that when I start working on something, I want to see it through. All the way through.

I was working my MP3 collection again. I synced up my traveling copy with my home copy, then deleted the traveling copy to make an exact backup of everything at home.

Syncing up at work at the moment.

But now I can start getting and ripping new stuff knowing I've got everything backed up. Sweet!

It's a project I've had on the back burner for... a long time. It feels good to have made significant headway—that's the only reason I wrote about it here. ;)

Apparently not wearing sunglasses on the way to work means it's easier to see beautiful drivers.

I listened to Reload from the Matrix Reloaded Soundtrack like 6 times on my commute this morning!

Well, I'm still mulling it over.

I've found a number of rings that are like what I want to do, but none that quite represent what I want it to be.

And I don't want the collection of sites that might be included to be too eclectic.

Yet... Yet there is an ineffable something that I can't quite define what it is that I'm after.

I don't want to be exclusively associated with porn or fetishes, for example, but that's not out.

I don't want to be exclusively associated with erotica, but that's not out.

I don't want to be exclusively associated with speaking freely, with complete candor, but that's not out.

I don't want to be exclusively associated with goth, but that's not out.

I don't want to be exclusively associated with evil, but that's not out.

I don't want to be exclusively associated being whiney, but that's not out.

So, what is it that I do? I don't think it's just me. I mean I have several sites in mind that would be candidates, good candidates...

Some requirements I can think of are:

• other blog


• "anonymous"


• personal focus


• real emotions and reactions (ie: PC is one option of many)


• sexuality or at a minimum, sexiness

I mean, adult stuff but not necessarily Adult. Does that make sense?

Also, I'm considering using a free tool for the hub of the ring, which means I first have to join a ring. Don't be alarmed.

All software fundamentally sucks?

All operating systems fundamentally suck?

All computer platforms suck?

Walk a mile in my shoes and tell me that it's not true.

I won't enumerate what I did wrong that made me look like an ass or what has made my team look like asses despite our best efforts.

So, like everyone sees any other IS team, we apparently suck majorly, too.

That's just beautiful. Happy day!

Gia

I just waxed poetic about some pretty hard-core music.

I just wrote to a male friend telling him in that evasive male way that I love him and always will.

AND

I have a web page queued up with videos of The Complete Amateur Bizarre Insertion.

I am naked before you. I have nothing to hide.

Otherwise you would have been offended.

I'm not sure how the new Deftones album could be more perfect. Hexagram and Minerva absolutely slay me.

I love how the singer sings softly, gently, with ennui. Then he screams at the limit of his voice with rage or pain.

It's like my experience of the world. Bring it. I want the tsunami.

God, but the density of the chords is absolutely beautiful, powerful.

Prolly, they're an aquired taste. For me they are absolutely the right intensity. Just perfect.

My ears are ringing and I don't care.

I just wish I had more occasion to show it off—studying the arcana of Active Directory may help to build mythical status, but it does nothing for sexual allure.

Which is to say, I can't show you I am adept if you're not there.

If you had walked by, you would have seen me grinning to myself.

But I wouldn't have stood up to greet you... not unless we were alone.

But I wonder if I could trust you to take a look at something for me?

See, I have this swelling... and I'm hoping I can put myself in your hands...

Do you see what I mean? Sometimes it just takes the right touch...

Yeah, that might work. Massage might really work.

You're the best, I swear...

Reading personal email at work may cause swelling. You may not be able to resolve that by yourself.

That'll teach you not to sneak up on me again.

But you're not a good girl, are you?

Perfect!

Come here...

I gonna come all over!

Fuck, I'm coming all over!

More.

More.

Oh. God!

Jesus...

Oh, God, don't stop!

Where did you learn that?

I thought you were a good girl!

I'm gonna...

Do you think you own me?

Do you think I'm gonna come, just like that?

Just for you?

You gonna make me come?

Look at those sluts pretending it's their first time.

This isn't your first time, is it?

Not when you move like that it's not.

Not when you move your hands up and down like that's not.

Do you feel how hard I am?

That's for good girls.

You're not a good girl.

Look at you with your hand on my cock.

Is this what good girls do?

Is it?

Keep squeezing.

A little faster...

Look at her acting all like she likes it.

You like that? Oh, fuck!

Look at that little whore on the screen.

Do you think he makes her stroke his cock like this?

That's right.

Like that.

Keep going.

It's viewer participation night.

Put your hand on my cock!

Come here!

I want you to stroke my cock just like this.

Did you want to see my cock this hard?

Do you like the porn, too?

Or did you just want to watch me stroke me cock like this?

Is that like some dirty turn on or something?

How long have you been standing there watching?

But thinking about coming is getting me hard.

Why, when looking at porn, must I have a Carpenters' song running through my head?

Please stop wasting my time.

Please keep your crappy home-office furniture and l33t workstation out of the picture. I can tell that she is not a secretary, and I can tell that's not an office.

Try harder.

Just because you're photographing a woman who is partially or totally nude doesn't mean it's going to be erotic in the least.

And just because the picture is in black-and-white and shows neither nipple nor vulva doesn't make it art.

Can we try a little here?

"Girl #3: Is there anything you won't do?"

"Girl #1: If I was ravenous, how would you feed my hunger?"

"If I had a firm erection that was completely obvious, what would you do with it?"

I keep expecting the nose-dive.

What gives?

If I don't feel self-loathing, then all I have left is malevolent intent.

This is where I start to manipulate things outside of my consciousness.

To prove I'm alive.

And to give me pleasure.

Whatever it takes.

I have had a ton of mistakes bite me in the ass today. Which completely sucks.

But perhaps the worst thing I did was at the peak of my frustration.

After I finished a telephone call about an issue I could not resolve, I hung up the phone. Waited a split second, then pounded my fists on my desktop and yelled "FUCK!" at the top of my lungs.

It echoed.

Yep. Another perfect day at work.

But I don't feel depressed which is both interesting and remarkable.

"These dreams go on when I close my eyes. Every second I'm awake the further I'm away..."

"Don't fall in love with a dreamer...

Jana Cova has a new photoshoot at suze.net.

Must resist...

Yeah, right.

But I will join you in your dreams.

When I lived in Gainesville and browsed used vinyl at Hyde & Zeke's, they had this haunting, large format, black and white goth magazine. For the life of me I can't remember what the name of it was. Do you know? Are they still around? Did they go online?

One of my other faves was Mondo 2000.

They don't make 'em like that anymore—or do they?

I have to go in at 0730. The boss is panicked because the sky might fall.

I can't wait to go back to work tomorrow to relax.

:/

Yeah, today was one of those perfect days when the sun is shining and the sky is blue the world is green.

I was called in to work at 0800. Left at 1630. Nice. Perfect.

Thanks, material needs!

And the work with the computers ain't done. Fuck me and the horse I rode in on.

But I must now sleep. Hopefully not in the car, though. That would be bad.

Peace and love.

Mostly love.

Caffeine is wearing off.

Regardless of whether you did or not, thank you.

You're making me think.

"Everybody's workin' for the weekend..."

-Loverboy

Yeah, I'm posting from work.

IT stuff, servers and shit. Beta to production. Mission critical, blah, blah, 'n effin' blah...

No posting the graphic stuff with officemate looking over my shoulder. ;)

Plus, well... actually one of my most graphic series of posts was generated from work... so, never mind.

I got to run up to the sexy server room.

OK, on my other blog someone did a search on my first and last names—capitalizing both.

That weirds me the fuck out because I have to imagine it's someone I know. Nobody has a name like mine.

Thanks, Pussy Ranch!

1. If someone offered you a million dollars for a half hour of sexual intercourse, and your partner didn't have an opinion either way, would you do it?

Can I look at her eyes first to see if I want to? What is she wearing? Is she going to be into it? Cause if she's just gonna lay there I'd rather go masturbate. I'll masturbate for a million dollars. Hell, for that kinda money I'd let you tape it and sell it.

2. Do you find the idea of fisting to be exciting or repellent?

Yes. I mean, on some level it has to hurt—before you learn to do it right. With a willing partner I would try it. Either way. Personally, I would have to work up to being fisted. Nothing has ever been pushed in to my anus before, so be gentle.

3. What is more arousing to you: the idea of being with a very experienced person or a very innocent one? You have to pick one, even if neither is your ideal.

I like learning new things. A LOT! My first choice would be to go with the more experienced. Although, in a healthy relationship, helping a woman learn about sexuality and sensuality has very strong appeal also. I think I would have more to offer than just a cock.

4. Who was your first sexual celebrity crush?

I felt stirrings for Andie McDowell. I saw some French fetish photography with her... She was wearing a black minidress, laying on her back. Only her legs were exposed, though they were spread. She appeared to be holding the waistband of a pair of panties, the crotch of which hung close to her face. I would bring myself to orgasm looking at her bare legs night after night. So yeah, she was my first celebrity. Madonna circa her first album was far sexier to me (I know—everyone says slutty. I'll admit it. I think slutty is very sexy, every bit as much as looking conservative but not acting it—which slays me. If it turns me on, it just doesn't matter.) but in retrospect she was not first.

5. Would it turn you off more if your sexual partner was obsessively clean and concerned with hygeine, or if they were a little bit dirrty?

Obsessively clean and concerned with hygiene is a colossal turn off. I am every bit as much about the emotional experience of sex as much as about the act. As I said above, if I'm turned on, it just doesn't matter. Pausing to cleanse takes the fun out of it and turns it into responsibility which is much less sexy. I am well groomed and healthy. Please give me a fucking break. On the other hand, if I haven't showered in more than a day I'm turned off by me. Eww.

But if there was dirt, or if we were both dirty? It's on! Or if we're both in the shower? Well that's on too!

I got my hair cut tonight. Short. Very short.

At a salon.

I've been going for years, seeing their Master Stylists. It costs a lot, but I'm vain.

Before they cut your hair they give you a scalp massage.

You lay on padded tables when they wash your hair.

My stylist rules.

She gave me more scalp massage when she put the conditioner in my hair. Half of me wanted to revert to childhood. Half of me wanted to be her lover.

And they use Aveda products which smell so wonderful.

Did I mention my stylist rules?

She's not stunning, more alluring.

Slender. Blond. Gray eyes. Gray.

Her pink blouse was sheer enough that I could tell she has birthmarks.

I tip well.

The staff know me by name.

I walked in to the lobby and just as I arrived one of the attractive brunettes at the counter said "You're all checked in."

I had said nothing at this point, only walked into the lobby.

The other attractive brunette knew exactly how to say my name. Which means a lot to me.

Yeah, there's no reason to ever go back there.

I'm such a male.

I knew right from the screams in the first few seconds of track one that the new Deftones CD would rule.

I'm so happy!

I was just accused of having a site that "...oozes with EVIL!"

[assumes the voice of Montgomery Burns]

Excellent!

You think you're immune.

No one knows you like I do.

Who would love you more than I do?

I think I could make you believe what I wanted you to.

That's not seductive at all.

Isn't that right, Little One?

Would you stop saying I'm trustworthy and a good person!

You're completely blowing apart my fantasy life.

Just let me believe I am evil, OK?

That is all.

I'm working through a serious caffeine withdrawal issue—usually by this time I have had at least a liter of Dew. Today I've had a single can.

I like the buzz, but it tends to exaggerate my level of tension and I panic easier.

Despite whatever appearance I may have—I've heard people tell me I'm soothing—I'm very hyperactive internally.

Caffeine just amps that up.

I just bought two more cans. Because I want them.

Hmmm. But that depends on if you're naughty or nice. Or how naughty, or how nice.

Might give me incentive to keep working out...

I'm working on that project now. Anything new I've purchased in the last 6 months or so is in there for sure, plus some stuff I glommed from people at work or online services (legal ones like emusic or epitonic), and I've ripped my soundtracks and the 300 or so compilations I've amassed over several years of sampling stuff because I can't stand ClearChannel. Only about 700 more CDs and singles to go. And yes, I sort by artist, then by album title. CDs, cassettes, Vinyl, it's all good. It's gonna take time to digitize the legacy stuff... the vinyl especially can really only be recorded real-time. But I only have 400.

Also, for ripping, just pay the $30 for the licensed version of MusicMatch. It is head-and-shoulders above anything else I've used. I just got the 8.0 update tonight. Whatever player works for you, get a cross-fade plug-in and do a nice 7 second cross-fade from track to track. Delicious.

What I love to do is put the whole works into a random play list. I just went from an electronica re-make of "Ride Like The Wind" by Christopher Cross to "Frankenstein" by Edgar Winter to "Macho Man" by the Village People. From NKOTB to Massive Attack to Willie Nelson to Hues Corporation to Peter Gabriel. It makes me laugh!

Music gives me joy. Always.

I was just off on a research bender...

I've got a series of posts going on my white blog that concern ADD. And since I say what I think here, any of you disbelievers can fuck right off!

I generate many emotions where my personal behaviors are concerned. The most common of them is the anger from people who don't understand how I can be like I am without either improper parenting or malicious intent. I've eaten a lot of shit in my life because I don't fit.

There are fundamentally three parts of my brain that do not work like yours. I cannot do things with my brain that you take for granted. Despite this, I think I'm a damn fine human being blessed to have been born in a country where I have the right to do things my way.

So deal or go away.

You amazing people with no fear, how do you do that?

I gotta get out more.

I wonder what it would be like with someone like you.

Bear with me, I don't just mean sex—not this time.

But seriously, I don't think external events bother you much. And you are more open to experience than fearful something bad is going to happen.

I'm just being wildly speculative. I've met people like you, but only online. Since I started paying attention.

I was thinking about it on the drive home. It takes 45 minutes each way on a good commute; I've got time to think.

I think it's because you are where I would want to be nine times out of ten. You are not worrying about things that have little likelihood of happening. And you are not making plans so you can avoid little things that have little likelihood of happening.

I'll even bet you don't plan much because you don't have to. Because things have a way of working out really well on their own. And serendipity can lead to wondrous experiences. And you only get each moment once to savor.

I'm just being wildly speculative.

Because I didn't realize that wasn't part of the deal. I didn't know it was possible for a person to feel so much the opposite of that.

I know you're out there, but I only exist in your world a few times a year when I break away.

And I wear a watch because someone will be pissed off if I'm gone too long.

But I would be less mysterious by far.

She's out tomorrow.

That means I only have to panic about actual work issues, like doing the impossible with no resources in record time.

It's a living.

Some days I think I should shave my head and wear nondescript knit clothing to work for all that it matters.

My office is in an out-of-the-way place. Unless you happen to be headed to another part of campus or (even more rarely) actually coming to see me—you won't see me.

I don't see anyone on the way to or from the restroom... and unless I make a particular effort to be social I'm going to be sitting on my ass in the same chair I've sat in for years in front of the same 19 inch tube I've sat in front of for years.

Is it any wonder I blog for some acknowledgment that I actually exist outside of my imagination?

I'm lonely.

I'll deal. Mostly appropriately.

On the other hand, I maybe should be glad that any panic-inducing situations I deal with here are manageable from "remote." It's much less likely that adrenaline or stuttering or nerves will adversely affect the situation. I have no relationship with the hardware or software. It works or it doesn't. I fix it or I escalate.

I panicked when I heard her voice because I'm afraid that seeing her will mean that I will betray myself—that my excitement or desire will override my better judgment. I've been swept away more than once. It doesn't work for me. The emotional wave I generate usually carries me all the way to the rocks, slamming me into them and leaving me broken.

Also, I want to avoid rejection. Laughter. And also, a lot of people in my life would be affected. Changing directions on a dime would lop off a big chunk of my known universe. And also, I'm already with someone who is about 99 percent wonderful. She deserves more from me than that.

So, in the grand tradition of Monty Python, my battle cry is "RUN AWAY!"

Am I not exemplary of mental health and sanity?

You know what I think about that.

I'm all fucking fight or flight. When will this be over? This is so stupid.

Not today.

I spend a lot of time managing my perception of my self. If you were to represent this graphically, it would be a very irregular line, and you would only need to use the occasional positive number. I'm typically so introspective that I have no idea what other people think of me, or how my actions affect others. Maybe no one knows this where the self is concerned.

Anyway, it's almost shocking to me when people are complimentary.

But, um, holy shit! Thanks!

My cock is erect.
I'm surfing the good porn sites
Looking for new pics.

I can't believe it!
I didn't know you did that!
God damn are you hot!

I'm stroking myself
Looking deep into your eyes
I'm getting so hard!

Wanting to feel you
Swirling your tongue, making me...
"Not yet, don't you come!"

You're not done with me.
Spreading yourself, you beckon.
I hear and obey.

I move my hips now,
pumping my cock in my fist,
squeezing and tugging.

Sexy legs and heels,
Mouth open with cries of lust—
That's what makes me come

Longer, slower strokes
I thrust my hips with purpose.
I hear myself groan.

I'm coming in jets.
I wish I was inside you.
I spasm and buck.

Stroking hard and fast,
I need to feel all of it.
I need it to last.

I've come all over.
Running down my hands and legs.
Dripping on the floor.

Silence in my room—
My imagination is good
but you are better.

Um, no. Not like that.

It's worth doing right.

Um, today has not gone as planned!

I've got a weekend deadline for a critical step in my project and some pieces are currently not working. Dammit!

On the drive in this morning, I was trying to think of a good song. But I think that would be easy enough to mess up.

And I thought about trying to be sexy. That would be easy to screw up, too... But I have an idea that I think will work.

You'll have to let me know if that works.

Note to self:

Dear Dumb-Ass,

Stop jumping to conclusions. You're an idiot.

-Soulless

I knew there was a reason why audblog was a good idea.

And I can't believe I forgot to follow up on it!

There will be much trouble here.

I don't really know what happened, but everyone in my blogiverse vanished. Was American Idol that compelling?

It was just odd. No one hit this site or my others, and no blogs I read have really been updated since early evening.

Am I pathetic for worrying about this?

I trolled around the web a bit to discover that I talk too much and I should maybe work more on haiku.

Endorsement?

I love Laurell, but with friends like me...

Is any publicity really good publicity?

Soulless: I'm on the first page. You think you know which one is me?

black soul xxx: That's right. That will always get you here. Very common search.

"Black As My Soul": Direct.

blackasmysoul: Less Obvious, yet still direct. That email address gets spammed like you wouldn't believe. Never use it, please. Also, beware what you post on your blog and other people's blogs (OPB). That shit hangs around. "Typing with my cock..." LOL! I kill me!

Black Guy Strippers: Not my target market. Please use quotes to enclose a specific phrase or use plus symbols to connect the words. That will give you more precise results. Honest.

Curvy Women: Who woulda thunk it? The reference on the search page says it all.

XXX see me being fuck of my pony: Um, I'm number one.

black xxxx: Triple-X not enough? Go for broke!

black porn that does not cost a thing: I'm with you brother!

"large breasts" "my page": Hmm.

ex strippers: Funny how your words, taken out of context, have a life of their own.

i want to watch a black man fuck my wife: Dude. Seriously. Not here.

"bare stomach": Yes.

I understand the nature of the promise I made. Certainly most people would tell me that keeping this promise is what matters. Anything else is therefore irrelevant.

I understand also that I am prone to self-medication and self-deception. Which means that I could be using this to avoid deeper issues. It sure is handy to fantasize.

I am not stupid enough to think that my problems with attention (and anything else which may or may be related) will go away. These are the issues I must face as best I can and as much like a responsible adult as I can.

There are certainly issues that I can resolve easily on my own that I have chosen to avoid with self-medicating behaviors.

What I feel I "should do" or "ought to do" is work on things in this order:

1. Fix myself as much as possible so that I am in the best possible position to see myself and my own needs clearly.
2. Fix my marriage as much as possible so that i am in the best possible position to see that it meets the needs of my partner and myself.
3. Decide on the best course of action.

My instincts and emotions are telling me to pursue another course of action altogether. On the surface, this is neither logical nor responsible.

And how important is self-interest?

In 100 years will it matter if I masturbate or have sex with my wife? Will it matter if I become a heroine addict to escape what little reality I understand? Will it matter if I become a girl-toy? Will it matter if I get married twice or thrice? Will it matter if I have children or if I am in the end impotent? Will it matter if I never play bass or drums?

Should I be a nihilist? A hedonist?

All I want to know is "What do I want?"

No.

I know what I want. I have to stop playing that game.

The question is really "How polite am I?" on the way. How blunt? How direct?

There is really nothing nice or polite about going after what you want, is there?

I think the greatest trouble I have is that I have built up this persona of a docile, humble, obedient, dependable soul.

Internally I am at least as vain, arrogant, vulgar, sarcastic, petty and driven as anyone I despise.

Anyway, getting this all out like this makes me feel like I'm coming from a place of strength for a change. It feels good.

I must still not let on that it matters.

Tell no one.

This weekend I was fairly calm and either I felt no angst or somehow I insulated myself from it. For whatever reason I couldn't think of a thing to write here and didn't want to force it.

I'll be over-seas in a few weeks for a few weeks. It should be fairly blissful and should help me to forget about my perceived trouble here. I'm hoping to that it will elucidate my future, as in am I doing the right thing. If not, I will deal. But my hope is that it will become more clear with more intimacy.

If not, then I will have to evaluate my current situation altogether.

See, I don't know what the deal is, but I feel increasingly slutty. At the same time, my desire for a family is increasing. How can that be reconciled? Or is one born of the other? I don't know. Something has to change. Or else I'm going to be a big problem trying to get with everyone I meet. What is this?

Today I'm back to "I want her really bad."