"Find something you love and let it kill you." -- Charles BukowskiI have more pics on here after we are 'friends'. I'm always down for chatting. I'm here to write, please, arouse and read!Do or do not; there is no try. That's my new mentality. I've always been a writer at heart, but I'm new to writing erotica.My sex drive is ridiculous. My sexual mind is ridiculous-er (a made-up word of mine). I've always been a writer at heart. That doesn't mean a good one, just one. I'm a lover, not a fighter, but I enjoy watching the UFC. Hey, did you know that vodka prolongs the life of razor blades? I'm a red meat man. Love to eat red meat. I'm a fan of eating (not just pussy), but I know my limits.I like whiskey. I'm no snob; I'm just a fan. I'm no alcoholic, either, but I'm damn good at functioning while inebriated, or so my best buds say.Life’s been pretty interesting, not to mention heartbreaking, fun and fucked up. After years of confusion and terror and intermittent laziness, I know my place, my skills and my vices. And I like them all. For me to be happy, I had to dance with my biggest devil: my utter inability to stop worrying about trivial bullshit and letting go of the past.Nowadays, I'm as real as it gets. Honesty is my forte, yet it's also a curse. The result has been a rising and giant personality unafraid of himself or the world. A cynically optimistic (paradox), witty writer who drinks, ruminates, loves the classic rock and has an eye for the ladies.Clichéd? Yes.Boring? Fuck no.I’m Hank Moody without the Southern California setting. I’m Kerouac without the suicidal drinking. I’m Bender without the shiny metal ass. I feel like a fucking rock star, and God protect anyone who thinks they can stop me.Like I said, I haven't been into the erotica writing game for very long. Throw soft jabs at me. If you are going to land verbal haymaker, give me a warning. Constructive criticism on how to better my erotica writing skills is always appreciated Feel free to send me a friend request. And don't be shy! Drop me a line or two (or 20) in a message if you want to ask me any questions, get to know me better or have something to say.
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I've removed an extremely toxic person from my life, someone who had the audacity to contact me and plead & beg me to be in their lives, yet their unappreciative, unreliable and naturally flaky behavior left a lot to be desired. Their idiotic actions contradicted their words. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders due to the finality of it all. I believe in second chances, but third chances? Not so much. I'm done with that person forever, and there's a lot of relief and apparent freedom in that. That, and there's a pair of UFC pay-per-view cards coming up over the next month in which I finally get to see some close friends again, after having not hung out with them in what feels like ages.
"Voldemort; yes, I said 'Voldemort'."
Blackberry cobbler, peach cobbler, apple pie, cherry pie...Y'know, there aren't too many pies I won't eat.
I believe, however naively, that once you love, you love. You may not be in love, but you’ll always love, and you’ll love who he was and who you were and who you were with him, and you may even think you can love who he is now, and maybe you will, and maybe you won’t, but, either way, you loved, and I think that is a fantastic thing to be able to say.Also, the thing about loss, and the loss of love, is that loss is universal, but loss -- and the loss of love -- doesn’t feel universal when we are going through it. Suffering through it, might be more appropriate. I don’t think the dreams and/or the feelings will ever stop. And I’m not sure they should stop. He’s part of who you are and who you will be. And that’s not a bad thing.
It's close.1.) The Departed2.) Toss up between No Country For Old Men and Django Unchained
Louis C.K., easily. He's the everyday guy who can bust out the funniest lines from just the mundane. His show on FX, "Louie", is damningly hilarious, too.
This strange ass song has been stuck in my head for a week now: http://www.youtube.com/embed/q5x_YoweEg8
Unless I'm with my friends and beer is all there is to drink, I prefer hard alcohol. The last time I got drunk was in October; 27 shots were thrown back from a mixture of vodka, tequila and absinthe (and a little bit of Blackheart rum), but here's the kicker: no hangover. That night, friends and I made fried potatoes (with red onions and jalapeno peppers) and a homemade pizza. In my drunken stupor I had the wherewithal to take two capsules of milk thistle extract (look it up) and 50mg of zinc picolinate (look it up). Only acquired four hours of sleep, but slept like a champ and woke up feeling good as new (albeit really tired). The drinking was spaced out over the course of a little over four hours, but I chalk up the anti-hangover elixir to the milk thistle and zinc. Ah, and the 27 shots weren't intentional; one of my friends had bought Crystal Head vodka with the shot glasses, and well, the shot glasses actually accounted for three shots per glass. By 10:10 pm (we started at 10), we'd already taken nine shots before we realized how much we'd already consumed.
For we’ve grown apart I guess that’s the test of time I reminisce over the days From when I was yours and you were mine Though it’s been a while Since I’ve seen your face The memories remain From when we made our hearts race We made lofty promises Many of which we did not keep We made plenty of mistakes The consequences were ours to reap Now that we’ve grown apart And...
Added 15 Jun 2012 | Category Love Poems
| Votes 12 | Avg Score 4.92
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“Nice ass, Becky!” Marcus yelled from the top of his lungs from the other side of the school’s hallway, directing his crass comment at me. Fucking prick. I hated Marcus. I dealt with him enough throughout high school. It was senior year, and I was still dealing with him! He was one pompous asshole. Black and lean with firm, hard muscles and muscular thighs, Marcus was a multisport...
Added 22 Apr 2012 | Category Interracial
| Votes 13 | Avg Score 4.77
| Views 17,971
| 18 Comments
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