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There really is no end is there.

I like being turned on.
I like surfing the web for things that turn me on... that I know turn me on.
And I am happy with what I find
And I'll stick to the route
And after some time I'll get to paring things down to a handful of people and places.
And life goes on rather contentedly, because really? What more do you need in this day of porn tubes and all that? It's all right fucking there. Lit's here for your literate whimsy. Ampics for your desire to communicate with online hotties that... for the most part... are doing it out of the goodness of their own hearts, it fulfills their exhibitionist side, and... well because it's fun.

So I find my handful of spamless tube sites I visit. If one of the headlines grabs me I'll check it out. But mostly the newly posted vids were the newly posted vids of one of the others the other day, or brings nothing new to my table, or I'm just not feeling it and surfing out of habit (which is more often then not, the usual case)

I find my handful of ampic threads I'll check out... see what's new visually or communication wise. I'll check out my thread. If I'm feeling something I'll share it. If not, I move on.

It is a rare event that I'll actually check out the ampic forum. My bookmark for this place sends me to my control panel and all I care about has already been subscribed to shows up there, so... no need... no interest to checkout the main page.

Except of course when I feel like it.

So I'll checkout the main page. And for whatever reason, I've come to expect it to be no different than what's showing up on my User CP. And not only is it different, there's a shit-ton of people I've never even heard of.

Now... I'm not saying that in the sense of "who are these nobodies anyway?" as if I'm King Shit atop the springtime shit flinger or anything. I'm saying it more along the lines of being something like a Lit Van Winkle waking up from his smutty slut slumber... or like when Diane tells Renton there's more music to listen to than just Iggy Pop and takes him to a rave and he's like "whoa..." in the movie Trainspotting.

So I'll get to clicking on some threads. Usually the ones on the better side of 20 pages because they are the least likely to be some idiot fucktard who... for whatever extremely significant reason that is lacking in there lives go through the time and effort to find, edit, re-crop, resize, and whatever the fuck they do so poorly to make whatever photo they swiped from someone/somewhere else, look as if they haven't been swiped from someone/somewhere and make an effort to come off as having an original personality as if to even fool themselves that they are indeed that sexyass someone they are posting as... yeah I have no time for that.

you know what else is a fucking tip-off? if a thread reaches 20 pages in like... 3 days. Even if said person is real... something about them is askew and needs to be sequestered in the dramatorium until they calm the fuck down or prove themselves otherwise sane--in my asshole opinion.

So there I am ambling beside myself about a new scene no different than one I'm already well familiar with, and I like my surroundings, and the regular contributors of encouragement are doing their encouraging... which I will honestly tell you I am thankful for because I fucking suck at it and I'm glad as hell there's guys out there... if anything... with the ware with all to do what needs to be done to keep a woman willing to stick around and take her clothes off. I tip my hat to thee gentlemen. I tip my hat indeed.

...and I'm really attracted to a few and as soon as the notion to engage said individuals in my curious sort of way that for whatever and however-the-fuck-works... I'm like "why."

I'm like "Why?" squared.

The first why is along the lines of... What more do I need that I don't already have?

The second (and more interesting one to me) is along the lines of... Why is it that this all keeps going? Why hasn't any of this stopped? Why is it that I keep thinking such would stop?

I guess that's more like... Why^4. And now all in the proper context... it's the 4th "why" that I find the most interesting. Mostly because I believe it's something we all wonder and want to know.

In my youth I was under the impression that once I found someone that would get naked for me I wouldn't need to see pictures and videos of people I don't know get naked... as often anyway. I believed that once I found love... once I fell in love... that love would stop finding me, that I would stop falling in it.

But it keeps going. There is no end.

That is... unless you end it for yourself. Either in purpose or "exhaustion".

Quotes for the word exhaustion because that's not really the right word but it's pretty damn close. "Enough" could be used as well. but even then I don't like what first comes to mind. Exhaustion implies that one has become weak or old. Enough implies that one has given up... quit.

Fuck it... I'm rewriting that shit. Give me a moment to think. Hold on...



blahblahblah...

But it keeps going. There is no end.

That is... unless you end it for yourself. Either in purpose... or having reached the point of personal satiation.

yeah... personal satiation.

something oft and easily confused or errantly associated with "old age". Though errantly used by those that have reached this point to question the reason and purpose to meet "youthful needs" thereby validating its association with "old age".


This is more easily understood in terms of technology... cellphones in particular. I have a flip phone. I like my phone. Aside from lacking a QWERTY keyboard (my old phone has one but I keep butt-dialing folks while I'm at work. And it is WAY the fuck less rugged than my newer phone. Seriously, my newer phone can--and does--take a beating. Starting to get the feeling that the number of beatings it can take are dwindling though), my new phone satiates all I need a phone that can fit in my pocket, to have. BOOM! Done.

...and then one day I had a moment of realization. Once my phone takes it's last beating (hopefully after my contract is up) I will have to get a new or newerish phone and chances that this phone will be so wonderfully limited in it's capabilities as my current phone is are probably going to be pretty damn small.

This realization caused me to feel... well... exhausted. Not opposed. Not curmudgeonly so (though I recognize how easy it would be to fall into that shoe). But capably so. Like having to get out of bed early and on your day off to take a friend to the airport.

And so I'm at ampics and I click on a thread and I realize at some point between how old I was when I first joined and how old I am at the moment that 18-23 year old women look like 15-17 year old girls and I wonder why the fuck they don't have better things to do? Me and my age bracket had better things to do because those better things to do at the time involved a relatively new thing called "the internet" and we all got to doing stupid shit like posting naked photos of ourselves and well... now we're kinda locked into stupid so... what do we care?

But you all... so much promise!

Not that I'm bitching. I'm simply entertained. The dumb following the stupid; plodding onward toward finding what they are looking for, finding it, and wondering why more keeps coming at them. Some continue to pursue it; believing they are capable to accept it all, and all without consequence. Others simply end it, personally and perfectly satiated.
 
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I like being turned on.
I like surfing the web for things that turn me on... that I know turn me on.
And I am happy with what I find
And I'll stick to the route
And after some time I'll get to paring things down to a handful of people and places.
And life goes on rather contentedly, because really? What more do you need in this day of porn tubes and all that? It's all right fucking there. Lit's here for your literate whimsy. Ampics for your desire to communicate with online hotties that... for the most part... are doing it out of the goodness of their own hearts, it fulfills their exhibitionist side, and... well because it's fun.

So I find my handful of spamless tube sites I visit. If one of the headlines grabs me I'll check it out. But mostly the newly posted vids were the newly posted vids of one of the others the other day, or brings nothing new to my table, or I'm just not feeling it and surfing out of habit (which is more often then not, the usual case)

I find my handful of ampic threads I'll check out... see what's new visually or communication wise. I'll check out my thread. If I'm feeling something I'll share it. If not, I move on.

It is a rare event that I'll actually check out the ampic forum. My bookmark for this place sends me to my control panel and all I care about has already been subscribed to shows up there, so... no need... no interest to checkout the main page.

Except of course when I feel like it.

So I'll checkout the main page. And for whatever reason, I've come to expect it to be no different than what's showing up on my User CP. And not only is it different, there's a shit-ton of people I've never even heard of.

Now... I'm not saying that in the sense of "who are these nobodies anyway?" as if I'm King Shit atop the springtime shit flinger or anything. I'm saying it more along the lines of being something like a Lit Van Winkle waking up from his smutty slut slumber... or like when Diane tells Renton there's more music to listen to than just Iggy Pop and takes him to a rave and he's like "whoa..." in the movie Trainspotting.

So I'll get to clicking on some threads. Usually the ones on the better side of 20 pages because they are the least likely to be some idiot fucktard who... for whatever extremely significant reason that is lacking in there lives go through the time and effort to find, edit, re-crop, resize, and whatever the fuck they do so poorly to make whatever photo they swiped from someone/somewhere else, look as if they haven't been swiped from someone/somewhere and make an effort to come off as having an original personality as if to even fool themselves that they are indeed that sexyass someone they are posting as... yeah I have no time for that.

you know what else is a fucking tip-off? if a thread reaches 20 pages in like... 3 days. Even if said person is real... something about them is askew and needs to be sequestered in the dramatorium until they calm the fuck down or prove themselves otherwise sane--in my asshole opinion.

So there I am ambling beside myself about a new scene no different than one I'm already well familiar with, and I like my surroundings, and the regular contributors of encouragement are doing their encouraging... which I will honestly tell you I am thankful for because I fucking suck at it and I'm glad as hell there's guys out there... if anything... with the ware with all to do what needs to be done to keep a woman willing to stick around and take her clothes off. I tip my hat to thee gentlemen. I tip my hat indeed.

...and I'm really attracted to a few and as soon as the notion to engage said individuals in my curious sort of way that for whatever and however-the-fuck-works... I'm like "why."

I'm like "Why?" squared.

The first why is along the lines of... What more do I need that I don't already have?

The second (and more interesting one to me) is along the lines of... Why is it that this all keeps going? Why hasn't any of this stopped? Why is it that I keep thinking such would stop?

I guess that's more like... Why^4. And now all in the proper context... it's the 4th "why" that I find the most interesting. Mostly because I believe it's something we all wonder and want to know.

In my youth I was under the impression that once I found someone that would get naked for me I wouldn't need to see pictures and videos of people I don't know get naked... as often anyway. I believed that once I found love... once I fell in love... that love would stop finding me, that I would stop falling in it.

But it keeps going. There is no end.

That is... unless you end it for yourself. Either in purpose or "exhaustion".

Quotes for the word exhaustion because that's not really the right word but it's pretty damn close. "Enough" could be used as well. but even then I don't like what first comes to mind. Exhaustion implies that one has become weak or old. Enough implies that one has given up... quit.

Fuck it... I'm rewriting that shit. Give me a moment to think. Hold on...



blahblahblah...

But it keeps going. There is no end.

That is... unless you end it for yourself. Either in purpose... or having reached the point of personal satiation.

yeah... personal satiation.

something oft and easily confused or errantly associated with "old age". Though errantly used by those that have reached this point to question the reason and purpose to meet "youthful needs" thereby validating its association with "old age".


This is more easily understood in terms of technology... cellphones in particular. I have a flip phone. I like my phone. Aside from lacking a QWERTY keyboard (my old phone has one but I keep butt-dialing folks while I'm at work. And it is WAY the fuck less rugged than my newer phone. Seriously, my newer phone can--and does--take a beating. Starting to get the feeling that the number of beatings it can take are dwindling though), my new phone satiates all I need a phone that can fit in my pocket, to have. BOOM! Done.

...and then one day I had a moment of realization. Once my phone takes it's last beating (hopefully after my contract is up) I will have to get a new or newerish phone and chances that this phone will be so wonderfully limited in it's capabilities as my current phone is are probably going to be pretty damn small.

This realization caused me to feel... well... exhausted. Not opposed. Not curmudgeonly so (though I recognize how easy it would be to fall into that shoe). But capably so. Like having to get out of bed early and on your day off to take a friend to the airport.

And so I'm at ampics and I click on a thread and I realize at some point between how old I was when I first joined and how old I am at the moment that 18-23 year old women look like 15-17 year old girls and I wonder why the fuck they don't have better things to do? Me and my age bracket had better things to do because those better things to do at the time involved a relatively new thing called "the internet" and we all got to doing stupid shit like posting naked photos of ourselves and well... now we're kinda locked into stupid so... what do we care?

But you all... so much promise!

Not that I'm bitching. I'm simply entertained. The dumb following the stupid; plodding onward toward finding what they are looking for, finding it, and wondering why more keeps coming at them. Some continue to pursue it; believing they are capable to accept it all, and all without consequence. Others simply end it, personally and perfectly satiated.

Very very interesting.
I'm a lurker on your thread but your posts always fuck with my head. In a good way.

Have a nice night.
 
Some of what you just said could apply to life in general.

I like when you wax philosophically. It's sexy. :rolleyes:;):)

We are all carnal beings. It's in our DNA. Thus the search for pleasure will always be there. The extent some people will go to give and get it is another story....
 
I'm just going to get this out of the way and include one of these ----->;) before I get too many of these ----->:mad:

but so far...












3 for 3.
 
3/3 or a 100% or an A+.

Dear me, I am such a fucking nerd.

Goes back to my hammock in the whatever comfy and secluded corner this thread possesses....
 
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I haven't checked in here in forever. And when I do, I find this.

I just wanted to say......I agree. From someone who has come and gone several times, you nailed it.
 
I like being turned on.
I like surfing the web for things that turn me on... that I know turn me on.
And I am happy with what I find
And I'll stick to the route
And after some time I'll get to paring things down to a handful of people and places.
And life goes on rather contentedly, because really? What more do you need in this day of porn tubes and all that? It's all right fucking there. Lit's here for your literate whimsy. Ampics for your desire to communicate with online hotties that... for the most part... are doing it out of the goodness of their own hearts, it fulfills their exhibitionist side, and... well because it's fun.

So I find my handful of spamless tube sites I visit. If one of the headlines grabs me I'll check it out. But mostly the newly posted vids were the newly posted vids of one of the others the other day, or brings nothing new to my table, or I'm just not feeling it and surfing out of habit (which is more often then not, the usual case)

I find my handful of ampic threads I'll check out... see what's new visually or communication wise. I'll check out my thread. If I'm feeling something I'll share it. If not, I move on.

It is a rare event that I'll actually check out the ampic forum. My bookmark for this place sends me to my control panel and all I care about has already been subscribed to shows up there, so... no need... no interest to checkout the main page.

Except of course when I feel like it.

So I'll checkout the main page. And for whatever reason, I've come to expect it to be no different than what's showing up on my User CP. And not only is it different, there's a shit-ton of people I've never even heard of.

Now... I'm not saying that in the sense of "who are these nobodies anyway?" as if I'm King Shit atop the springtime shit flinger or anything. I'm saying it more along the lines of being something like a Lit Van Winkle waking up from his smutty slut slumber... or like when Diane tells Renton there's more music to listen to than just Iggy Pop and takes him to a rave and he's like "whoa..." in the movie Trainspotting.

So I'll get to clicking on some threads. Usually the ones on the better side of 20 pages because they are the least likely to be some idiot fucktard who... for whatever extremely significant reason that is lacking in there lives go through the time and effort to find, edit, re-crop, resize, and whatever the fuck they do so poorly to make whatever photo they swiped from someone/somewhere else, look as if they haven't been swiped from someone/somewhere and make an effort to come off as having an original personality as if to even fool themselves that they are indeed that sexyass someone they are posting as... yeah I have no time for that.

you know what else is a fucking tip-off? if a thread reaches 20 pages in like... 3 days. Even if said person is real... something about them is askew and needs to be sequestered in the dramatorium until they calm the fuck down or prove themselves otherwise sane--in my asshole opinion.

So there I am ambling beside myself about a new scene no different than one I'm already well familiar with, and I like my surroundings, and the regular contributors of encouragement are doing their encouraging... which I will honestly tell you I am thankful for because I fucking suck at it and I'm glad as hell there's guys out there... if anything... with the ware with all to do what needs to be done to keep a woman willing to stick around and take her clothes off. I tip my hat to thee gentlemen. I tip my hat indeed.

...and I'm really attracted to a few and as soon as the notion to engage said individuals in my curious sort of way that for whatever and however-the-fuck-works... I'm like "why."

I'm like "Why?" squared.

The first why is along the lines of... What more do I need that I don't already have?

The second (and more interesting one to me) is along the lines of... Why is it that this all keeps going? Why hasn't any of this stopped? Why is it that I keep thinking such would stop?

I guess that's more like... Why^4. And now all in the proper context... it's the 4th "why" that I find the most interesting. Mostly because I believe it's something we all wonder and want to know.

In my youth I was under the impression that once I found someone that would get naked for me I wouldn't need to see pictures and videos of people I don't know get naked... as often anyway. I believed that once I found love... once I fell in love... that love would stop finding me, that I would stop falling in it.

But it keeps going. There is no end.

That is... unless you end it for yourself. Either in purpose or "exhaustion".

Quotes for the word exhaustion because that's not really the right word but it's pretty damn close. "Enough" could be used as well. but even then I don't like what first comes to mind. Exhaustion implies that one has become weak or old. Enough implies that one has given up... quit.

Fuck it... I'm rewriting that shit. Give me a moment to think. Hold on...



blahblahblah...

But it keeps going. There is no end.

That is... unless you end it for yourself. Either in purpose... or having reached the point of personal satiation.

yeah... personal satiation.

something oft and easily confused or errantly associated with "old age". Though errantly used by those that have reached this point to question the reason and purpose to meet "youthful needs" thereby validating its association with "old age".


This is more easily understood in terms of technology... cellphones in particular. I have a flip phone. I like my phone. Aside from lacking a QWERTY keyboard (my old phone has one but I keep butt-dialing folks while I'm at work. And it is WAY the fuck less rugged than my newer phone. Seriously, my newer phone can--and does--take a beating. Starting to get the feeling that the number of beatings it can take are dwindling though), my new phone satiates all I need a phone that can fit in my pocket, to have. BOOM! Done.

...and then one day I had a moment of realization. Once my phone takes it's last beating (hopefully after my contract is up) I will have to get a new or newerish phone and chances that this phone will be so wonderfully limited in it's capabilities as my current phone is are probably going to be pretty damn small.

This realization caused me to feel... well... exhausted. Not opposed. Not curmudgeonly so (though I recognize how easy it would be to fall into that shoe). But capably so. Like having to get out of bed early and on your day off to take a friend to the airport.

And so I'm at ampics and I click on a thread and I realize at some point between how old I was when I first joined and how old I am at the moment that 18-23 year old women look like 15-17 year old girls and I wonder why the fuck they don't have better things to do? Me and my age bracket had better things to do because those better things to do at the time involved a relatively new thing called "the internet" and we all got to doing stupid shit like posting naked photos of ourselves and well... now we're kinda locked into stupid so... what do we care?

But you all... so much promise!

Not that I'm bitching. I'm simply entertained. The dumb following the stupid; plodding onward toward finding what they are looking for, finding it, and wondering why more keeps coming at them. Some continue to pursue it; believing they are capable to accept it all, and all without consequence. Others simply end it, personally and perfectly satiated.

put simply: I am impressed!
 
all this activity has given me a felt need to post a visual or two.

I don't have a visual or two.
Well... I have one but it's not of me.
It's of my wife from a month or two ago. Maybe three months ago.

We did another series of rope photos.
ALL of which she hated... and probably still hates.

I on the other hand fucking love them.

I also know why she hated/hates them.
I didn't do much airbrushing or blurring out or any of that.
Instead I spent that time fucking around with contrast and greyscale and all that bullshit.

Why?
Why to draw out every blemish, every imperfection, every little mole and pockmark and spider vein and bit of stubble as I could of course. Because I'm a dick.

Not really on the "dick" part

Well... sometimes. But not in this case.

In this day of digital cameras and images and fuckery I've come to be so fucking sick of... visually cloying, plastic, calendar/postcard ready images. Like... seriously sick. They make me angry. And I swear to fuck...

Nevermind. you get the fucking point. I want to punch shit. Actually.... what they really make me want to do is take a hammer to my camera and a pen-tip to the lens of the camera on my phone and bust all the shit straight to fucking hell.

Because not only am I a dick. I am an asocial dick. I wish I wasn't. Sometimes anyway. I mean... it would be nice to jump in the flow of things and network right along with all my friends pimping their shit out and getting all sorts of recognition and accolades from all their friends... pumping out the same kind of shit... but that's only what my asocial dick eye sees.

Actually... I fucking hate it. I do. I hate being unable to drink the water I'm fucking drawn to all the time. I hate zigging when everyone is zagging. I know I know "but you're so ORIGINAL..." or some similar bullshit fuck-you-for-saying it as if it's a compliment compliment. Seriously. Take a long hard look at all the individuals who's originality and/or uniqueness was their master stroke into the limelight of success.

Happy group of individuals aren't/weren't they?

Fuck no they're not/weren't.

And those are the ones that fucking made it.


Want a good read? Take a moment and read Stephen King's little memoir On Writing. It's a fucking hilarious and plain spoken look into both the craft of writing as well as what it is like to be a writer. Lazy and cheap? Check out Neil Gaiman's blog/journal between the hawking of his latest book are some pretty good gems as to how fucking miserable it is to be an author.

and those are just two individuals touched in the head and damned to create.

It fucking blows.

Blows even more when you don't even really want to be so geared in that direction but fuck all if you're not no matter how the fuck hard you try to be linear in mind and action and... feeling.




So fuck all else off this off fucking topic topic because the plummet is fast and I'm feeling it.

Wife hates the pics because they are gritty and crime scene. More so than my usual bullshit. Though... not all are. I'm actually surprised she didn't much care for the one I'm about to post. I'm kinda suspecting my timing of completion wasn't the best if you know what I mean.

The one I would fucking LOVE to show you harkens back to the knife series... without the knife.

in it, she's laying on her back, naked on the bed. hands tied above her head. her feet free. I'm in the shadows...

it's fucking dark.


by far the most disturbing thing I happened to capture.
The thing of it? last minute snapshot. wasn't going to take it. wanted to be done. wanted to get to fucking. but then... that bullshit itch. a pull. a non-fucking-idea of no concept that will not let go. no looking through the viewfinder. no re-reading/re-writing. bring the camera up, push the button. snap. edit. vomit out of the frustration and inability to explain or consistently re-create.

write about it.

go to work
go to the gym
do what needs to be done to convert the emotional into the physical

to forget


post.






disappear.
get better​
do it again.​
 

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Jeeeezusfuckingchrist. Get. Out. Of. My. Head.

I didn't do much airbrushing or blurring out or any of that.
Instead I spent that time fucking around with contrast and greyscale and all that bullshit.

Why?
Why to draw out every blemish, every imperfection, every little mole and pockmark and spider vein and bit of stubble as I could of course. Because I'm a dick.

Not really on the "dick" part

Well... sometimes. But not in this case.

In this day of digital cameras and images and fuckery I've come to be so fucking sick of... visually cloying, plastic, calendar/postcard ready images. Like... seriously sick. They make me angry. And I swear to fuck...

Nevermind. you get the fucking point. I want to punch shit. Actually.... what they really make me want to do is take a hammer to my camera and a pen-tip to the lens of the camera on my phone and bust all the shit straight to fucking hell.

I so get this. I've felt it. Not so much in imagery, but words, yes. I read On Writing a few years ago; I wasn't as impressed as I thought I was supposed to be. Meh. The drudgery of blogs and bloggers, twits and tweeters, Facebook, Reddit, blah blah blah ... everybody wants to be original and everybody ends up being the same.

I live for that spark. That darkness, or sometimes light. That something that's different. Or maybe it's that something that speaks to the same level of brokenness within me. When someone finally "gets it." When something hits me hard in the chest and I say to myself, "Yes. Fucking YES!" An intellectual orgasm. Few and far between, but oh. so. worth. it.
 
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I'm pretty fucking conceited

Not so much in that I think I'm fucking awesome a shit and no one else is better than me or has better things to say, do, or bring to the table. Nope. One doesn't have to go too far back into this here thread of mine to find me being so full of my self saying how much I fucking suck at pretty much everything.

perhaps not so clearly as said as that.


I'm conceited in that I really don't give a fuck about what people say, think, do, or bring to the table. On first read that sounds awesome. Why give a fuck about what other people think, say, blah blah blah? They are not your life! You are not their life! Neither are responsible for the other! Our only responsibility is of-and-for ourselves!

...and an island never cries.


I am conceited in that the only thing that entertains me... is myself. I would have included "...that I find interesting," but I can't get onboard with that as it inflects arrogance; which I am of course, but it's altruistically self directed, cannibalized and excreted in the form of self-deprecation... which everyone loves... which in turn validates my conceitedness which I of course find so entertaining.

I mean seriously... how can I NOT sit here watching these thoughts that think themselves! It's like watching a coked up Robbin Williams stand-up routine! I find them just as fucking absurd, out-there and difficult to follow as the next person! And it never fucking ends. Never let's me fucking leave myself. Ever.

I wish I could leave.

There once was a time when the internet was a blessing to me. To a lot of people really. We could log in and go away. We could socialize without having to socialize. We were anywhere that was nowhere in particular. But we are humans and our desires to identify turned into desires to connect. Innovation and technology met this common communal need and now... there's no harbor... no calm... no escape of self... no turning off the forced interest, the forced "like" of others.

McKenna, you said a lot and what you had to say kinda made me feel as though I might be ahead of the curve with my conceitedness. Blogs, reddit, forums, this social network, that social network... all full of people with nothing new to say all filling everyone's desire to hear nothing new... all full of people reaffirming and validating each other with their similar beliefs... like going to church does for the religious. What do I care? I don't. I'm just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round... gathering information for information gatherers.
 
I still need to fuck...

you know... incase you're all like "did he fuck? maybe he's fucking now!"

no... I didn't fuck. and no... I'm not fucking now.
I am tired. And I kinda have to take a piss so that's what I'm going to do. Perhaps while I'm in there I'll think of something interesting to say. I have my doubts... but my doubts usually lead to pretty interesting thoughts so... yeah... I'm off to go hold my dick and do my best to hit the water and not the rim of the toilet... or the floor.

kinda wish I hadn't said that. now the pressure's on.
 
didn't miss

and here's a pic to prove!


not really. though I figured that since I was up and my camera was on the way I may as well see what kind of off-the-cuff last minute pic I could get that the majority of you would want to see.

After all that was said; was done, well... this was the only one the majority would really care to see.
 

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Everything I've said up until this post is of no importance or value

Why?

Because I still need to fuck.

Not for the sake of just having an orgasm
Or out of physical affection for another

Though both are indeed perfectly sound reasons.


I still need to fuck.
I need to bareback breedfuck.
I need to bareback breedfuck every woman I've come into personal contact with.
Not the one's I've already fucked through the fabricated nature brought about by other couples with similar interests.

I need to fuck the ones that I know would fuck me if left to their own devices.
The one's in passing
The one's that found themselves sitting next to me around a campfire with friends and found themselves sitting next to me...

in the dark
searching themselves for a reason to engage me
to look at me
looking across the fire where her friend was sitting so that she could steal fleeting glances... to get a better feel for me.

I need to fuck the ones who's names I know
The one's who's eyes have said my name before their lips and heard my eyes answer before their ears.

I need to fuck the ones that find themselves stepping onto the elevator to find me standing there... who's instinctual panic is quelled by the sense of my own insecurity for being their unexpected fear... in a closed environment... a solid foot taller with shoulders broader than their hips.

I need to fuck them in that second that they want me to... before they get to feeling okay that I don't.
 
I need to fuck the ones that find themselves stepping onto the elevator to find me standing there... who's instinctual panic is quelled by the sense of my own insecurity for being their unexpected fear... in a closed environment... a solid foot taller with shoulders broader than their hips.

:rose:
 
feeling a bit guilty for being all talk and no photos... I took a few with my cell. Not the easiest thing to do, nor the most easiest to make yourself look all pretty-like.

that said... this would actually be a pretty good pic... if my cock wasn't all in the way:rolleyes:
 

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Dammit!

I thought for certain I'd be able to salvage something out of the 3rd pic to give you--at the very least--3 new pics. Alas... I am unable to make any of it work. So I guess there's only going to be 2 new pics tonight.
 

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I set out to post 3...

so here's your fucking 3rd pic assholes:mad:
 

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Fuck it...

it's a monday night...
 

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I like your words a lot. And I like your pictures a lot.

Good thing I don't have to choose one.

PS. Your broad shoulders make me wet.
 
you got 5 minutes before this is gone.

not that It's really all crazy or anything. It's just been some time since I've last made someone feel as though they've missed something awesome.
 
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