When acquainting online, we lie about our first names. First names! I do it too. Obviously. This blog is written by "Simone Gordon".
Evan, Scott, Kelly, that's not their real names, but those are the names they gave me when they initially wrote me online.
"Hi. My name is Mike." but it's really Jeff.
"Hi Mike. My name is Sarah." but it's really Kimberly.
Evan and Kelly, kept their "online names" when we created our gay website profile page. I, on the other hand, was just called "the girl". I was the girl. The girl. I didn't need a name. On this gay website, I was just a prop "the straights" were using to come. Like in real life! Only here online I received a tidy little bonus. Yay me! In retrospect, who's using who?
I don't come. Ever. Rarely do men ask, "How can I make you come." so it's usually not an issue.
I don't play because I want to come. I'm fantastic at making myself come; anywhere, anytime, with the right material, in under a minute!
Mental release. Alleviating stress. Good times. Unwind. Relax. Distraction. Forget about the world for a while. That's what it's about with me. That's what I get out of it.
If I want/need to come, I'll do it myself. I don't continue seeing a guy becomes he makes me come. I continue seeing a guy because he makes me feel good. I enjoy his company. He helps me forget about the other shit I have to deal with, the remaining 16 hours of the day I'm not sleeping.
And so...
After Kelly, Evan, and I, set up our group profile, we wanted to have something to show right away. But something hot. Something good. I have movie editing software on my computer, and friends who are professional camera guys with their own gear. None of these guys have ever shot adult content, and so for them it was an experience. For Kelly, Evan, and I, it was still about fun...
Until...
We all got together and shot this movie at Evan's place.
30 minutes into shooting the three of us having sex, I just wanted to smack everyone. Everyone! 60 seconds after that, my relationship with Kelly and Evan, forever changed.
This was no longer about fun. These guys weren't my lovers anymore. They were my coworkers.
The movie started with three lovers, and ended with three coworkers. But...
We were ok with that.
Kelly and I, Evan and I, stopped having sex for fun.
Kelly's wife once asked me if I would be interested having dinner with Kelly, just to step away from the internet, and just be lovers again.
I politely declined.
Kelly's wife then asked if stopping the website would regain my sexual friendship with Kelly... but once more, I politely explained, no.
The Cup...
Every three Sundays, I get my period. Surprise!!
Kelly lives with a woman, he understands this. I don't really like having sex on my period unless it's a near the end. Bloody sex, gross!
To Evan, my period is an inconvenience. So Evan says, "Just put one of those cups in."
Yes. JUST.
"If I can pump my dick, you can use a cup!" Evan says.
And I get his point... but not two days before I'm about to start my period.
I've never used a cup before. I didn't know how to put one in. I still don't.
"I didn't know how to pump my dick before I did it!" Evan yells back.
Evan and Kelly are both really well endowed, but size queens (love) thirteen inch dicks. Absolutely loves them. So the guys started pumping. By choice.
What I think Kelly and Evan, forgot, was that we didn't (have) to perform shows on the nights we scheduled. We could cancel any time we wanted. It's not like there was a hired crew and additional actors, it was just us, a track cam, a tripod cam, a handheld cam, and three straights on a gay website. Of course, the risk you run by canceling, is that some people won't come back on the nights you schedule.
But all this fighting with these guys, however rational, or irrational, once tempers flared, it's not surprising Evan and I were literally telling each other to fuck off, minutes before the scheduled feed.
But...
We kept the website. Why not? We kept it from 2012-2014, until Kelly got his own website, I quit to preserve my sanity...
And then my dad got seriously sick...
My relationship with Kelly mended but it was never the same as when we first met. We're friends. We don't play unless it's something regarding his website. His wife lifted her rules for the betterment of his business. It's just so sterile and regimented.
Business.
I ended up quitting.
And then got back in to it.
And then quit again.
Then got back in.
Then quit.
Back in.
Quit.
In.
In 2012 I was still interested in sex.
By the end of 2013, I just didn't care anymore.
In 2013, The number of times I had sex off cam, ZERO.
The number of times I had sex off cam in 2014, TWO
Presently, 2015, the number of times I've had sex off cam, TWO.
In two and a half years, I've had sex FOUR times.
"Just stop. Stop. Go to France. Write your book." Aramis would tell me.
But then my dad got really sick...
Anyway...
Going back in time a little...
In the summer of 2012, I met these two guys. THE FIRST guy I met through a friend, and THE SECOND guy is friends with the first guy.
THE FIRST guy says, "Why don't you get your own web page? I have a friend who can help you. He helped me with my sites."
THE FIRST guy, freakishly well endowed, has his own page on a gay pay site, and on a straight pay site, He just masturbates, that's all, no sex, but he still makes a lot of money. He's freakishly well endowed, and pumps.
So THE FIRST guy introduced me to THE SECOND guy, and I started to get my own site. Hotbiasiangirl. It's always "girl", girl-this, girl-that, now it's just a silly (girl) joke.
What end up happening was, THE SECOND guy and I started seeing each other. And as it turned out, he was also into the swing scene. The a clubs. The parties. The events. And so we went. We traveled. Over nights. Weekends. I had so much fun!
Fun!
Remember fun!!
THE SECOND guy made his money in real estate in his 20's and 30's. Now barely 40, he was partially retired.
My relationship with THE SECOND GUY was a huge problem for Evan.
"What are you doing?! You can't have sex with these people! You don't know them! Fucking strangers!
And then come back here and have sex with me! What are you thinking?!" Evan screamed at me.
He had a point. A good one.
I really hated Evan.
Still do.
Without me, without a girl buffer, Evan and Kelly, couldn't be on a gay site without appearing (really) gay. People asked us why don't you just go on a straight site...
And all I can say to that is...
You (handsome, fit, hung) boyfriend go on a gay site. Tell your (beautiful, fit) girlfriend to go on a straight site. And after one month, come back and tell me who's doing better.
Problem is, even if you're straight, even if you just masturbate, no sex, once you're on a gay pay site, that stigma, all those false assumptions, are now attached to you, negative blood tests and all.
You have to disappear, come back, and hope no one recognizes you.
Do straights in this industry perform with gays on gay sites... it's not for me to say... but I'm going guessing the straight industry would rather they didn't.
So we all got tested again, negative screens, and THE SECOND guy and I stopped seeing each other.
When my dad got really sick in 2014. My whole outlook on life changed. It's still changing.
What do I want to do now? I don't know? But I'm done. I'm done with the cam work.
I just want to have fun for a while.
Enjoy life.
Know what I mean?
But...
I am a forever changed woman. And there's no going back.
Monday, June 29, 2015
Sunday, June 28, 2015
Three straights on a gay website
There is a composed sighted belief that men give better blow jobs than women.
Since 2011, I've seen a lot of male on male oral sex performances on video and live feed, and let me assure you, in the arena of broadcast performances, women reign supreme and I've seen far more male on male oral video performances, than female on male oral performances, I'm guessing around 70/30.
It seems, and this is just my opinion and observation, the act of oral sex in adult gay entertainment isn't anywhere near as important as (say) penetration, cum play, and bondage.
(Gay bondage. Wow!)
With basic adult gay entertainment, there isn't an abundance of detail, specifics, or script, (I can only guess) because it's not geared towards women, women performers, or men who sexually prefer women.
In regards to broadcast and live feeds...
Got a camera. Got two dudes. Got sun light. Got a porn.
And so...
In continuation with the blog below this one...
Being as how Evan and I were single, we hung out more, did more investigative work, checking out the gay pay sites (this other guy) told us to check out, just to see what we would be getting into should we all venture down this rabbit hole.
A lot of men had solo profiles on the gay site. They strictly masturbated for the camera, put on maybe two shows a night, four nights a week, and that was it. They most likely had day jobs, girlfriends, and this was just a way to be naughty online and get paid for it. Good for them!
But other profiles were serious. They had (something like) 20 pay videos, and three shows a night with performances titled, "tgirl anal training" and "bound cum drinkers"... Etc. All male performers.
Again, just speaking from my own personal experience, there's a sensitivity first, sexuality second, (or vice versa) knee-jerk reaction to seeing a woman naked and bound in a sexual scenario. But when I saw 6'4 ripped and hung men rigged up and ball gagged, being whipped furiously by another 6'4 ripped and hung guy in a leather mask... that was just hot!
HOT!
"Would you ever do that?" I asked Evan.
"No. Are you crazy?" he replied with a dirty look.
So needless to say, the guys who put on serious live shows like ball gag and leather-face, were going to kick our asses! But those guys did this for a living. They were professional adult entertainers. We just like sex.
For Evan and I, the decision to put up a profile and perform live shows, was an easy decision to make. Gay pay site? So what. We didn't care.
Scott said no. Ended up getting married and presently lives out of state with his family.
Kelly and his wife had a lot more to consider. Their marriage, for one. His face being recognized, for two. And what about their future? Where was all this going? There's a world of difference from swing site, to gay pay porn site. Even though Kelly, Evan, and I are all straight, it's still a gay porn site.
I was in it for the adventure. My long term relationship was over. I didn't have anyone else to consider.
After a week of talking it over, Kelly and his wife agreed to do it, specifying that "the rules" regarding Kelly and I, still applied.
The rules...
When Kelly and I first started playing together, his wife had two rules for he and I, those rules being, condoms, and no internal vaginal ejaculation, not even in a condom. Even though we had all been tested negative, even though I was on the pill, she said those were the rules, and so we of course respectfully abided by them. She's the boss. She doesn't need to tell us twice!
When Kelly and his wife approved of us performing live shows on the gay adult site, I thought it best Kelly's wife and I, just the two of us girls, opened a bottle of wine, girls night in, check out some gay porn, and the gay pay sites.
Long story, short...
By the time us girls uncorked our second bottle of wine, we had watched "a variety" of gay porn, participated in a gay chat box, and found ourselves chatting with a very nice gay male adult performer via Skype.
When it comes down to how a woman describes her boyfriend, I often hear one of two descriptions...
Narrative one: She will brag about her boyfriend's physical attractiveness and sexual prowess, first. Everything else, second.
Narrative two: She will brag about his business and financial prowess, first. Everything else, second.
Kelly's wife is the aforementioned, narrative one.
"My husband has the most beautiful dick!" She bragged. "And he can eat pussy like... Oh my god!" she panted, a little drunk, and practically out of breath. "She knows! You know! Tell him! He's really good at eating pussy, right?" she said while nudging me.
See, here's the thing...
I've never, in the history of having sex with husbands of swinger couples, compared husbandry sex acts with the wives, not ever. To me, that's just weird and uncomfortable.
"And he's never sucked a dick before? Not even out of curiosity?" the male actor asked.
"No!" Kelly's wife exclaimed. "No. Right? No!"
I don't know? What are you asking me for? No! Of course not! Not in the (something like) 2 months I've known you guys!
At that time, I really had only known Kelly and his wife for about two months.
But...
Kelly's very straight.
And so...
We had a profile to build.
Two straight Caucasian men.
One straight Asian woman.
On a gay pay site.
If ever I were granted three wishes. The first two wishes would be entirely humanitarian...
The last wish, the third wish, would be to receive a recording of the first night Kelly, Evan, and I, started building our MFM profile on this gay website!
Since 2011, I've seen a lot of male on male oral sex performances on video and live feed, and let me assure you, in the arena of broadcast performances, women reign supreme and I've seen far more male on male oral video performances, than female on male oral performances, I'm guessing around 70/30.
It seems, and this is just my opinion and observation, the act of oral sex in adult gay entertainment isn't anywhere near as important as (say) penetration, cum play, and bondage.
(Gay bondage. Wow!)
With basic adult gay entertainment, there isn't an abundance of detail, specifics, or script, (I can only guess) because it's not geared towards women, women performers, or men who sexually prefer women.
In regards to broadcast and live feeds...
Got a camera. Got two dudes. Got sun light. Got a porn.
And so...
In continuation with the blog below this one...
Being as how Evan and I were single, we hung out more, did more investigative work, checking out the gay pay sites (this other guy) told us to check out, just to see what we would be getting into should we all venture down this rabbit hole.
A lot of men had solo profiles on the gay site. They strictly masturbated for the camera, put on maybe two shows a night, four nights a week, and that was it. They most likely had day jobs, girlfriends, and this was just a way to be naughty online and get paid for it. Good for them!
But other profiles were serious. They had (something like) 20 pay videos, and three shows a night with performances titled, "tgirl anal training" and "bound cum drinkers"... Etc. All male performers.
Again, just speaking from my own personal experience, there's a sensitivity first, sexuality second, (or vice versa) knee-jerk reaction to seeing a woman naked and bound in a sexual scenario. But when I saw 6'4 ripped and hung men rigged up and ball gagged, being whipped furiously by another 6'4 ripped and hung guy in a leather mask... that was just hot!
HOT!
"Would you ever do that?" I asked Evan.
"No. Are you crazy?" he replied with a dirty look.
So needless to say, the guys who put on serious live shows like ball gag and leather-face, were going to kick our asses! But those guys did this for a living. They were professional adult entertainers. We just like sex.
For Evan and I, the decision to put up a profile and perform live shows, was an easy decision to make. Gay pay site? So what. We didn't care.
Scott said no. Ended up getting married and presently lives out of state with his family.
Kelly and his wife had a lot more to consider. Their marriage, for one. His face being recognized, for two. And what about their future? Where was all this going? There's a world of difference from swing site, to gay pay porn site. Even though Kelly, Evan, and I are all straight, it's still a gay porn site.
I was in it for the adventure. My long term relationship was over. I didn't have anyone else to consider.
After a week of talking it over, Kelly and his wife agreed to do it, specifying that "the rules" regarding Kelly and I, still applied.
The rules...
When Kelly and I first started playing together, his wife had two rules for he and I, those rules being, condoms, and no internal vaginal ejaculation, not even in a condom. Even though we had all been tested negative, even though I was on the pill, she said those were the rules, and so we of course respectfully abided by them. She's the boss. She doesn't need to tell us twice!
When Kelly and his wife approved of us performing live shows on the gay adult site, I thought it best Kelly's wife and I, just the two of us girls, opened a bottle of wine, girls night in, check out some gay porn, and the gay pay sites.
Long story, short...
By the time us girls uncorked our second bottle of wine, we had watched "a variety" of gay porn, participated in a gay chat box, and found ourselves chatting with a very nice gay male adult performer via Skype.
When it comes down to how a woman describes her boyfriend, I often hear one of two descriptions...
Narrative one: She will brag about her boyfriend's physical attractiveness and sexual prowess, first. Everything else, second.
Narrative two: She will brag about his business and financial prowess, first. Everything else, second.
Kelly's wife is the aforementioned, narrative one.
"My husband has the most beautiful dick!" She bragged. "And he can eat pussy like... Oh my god!" she panted, a little drunk, and practically out of breath. "She knows! You know! Tell him! He's really good at eating pussy, right?" she said while nudging me.
See, here's the thing...
I've never, in the history of having sex with husbands of swinger couples, compared husbandry sex acts with the wives, not ever. To me, that's just weird and uncomfortable.
"And he's never sucked a dick before? Not even out of curiosity?" the male actor asked.
"No!" Kelly's wife exclaimed. "No. Right? No!"
I don't know? What are you asking me for? No! Of course not! Not in the (something like) 2 months I've known you guys!
At that time, I really had only known Kelly and his wife for about two months.
But...
Kelly's very straight.
And so...
We had a profile to build.
Two straight Caucasian men.
One straight Asian woman.
On a gay pay site.
If ever I were granted three wishes. The first two wishes would be entirely humanitarian...
The last wish, the third wish, would be to receive a recording of the first night Kelly, Evan, and I, started building our MFM profile on this gay website!
Saturday, June 27, 2015
Magic Mike, to the rescue
It's on tonight. How funny. Last time I was looking for a male partner to have fun with, I was unsuccessful in my search that night too, and Magic Mike, just happened to be on TV.
Channing Tatum, sweatpants strip tease.
I know I'm a rare breed of girl that likes group sex. I like it a lot. Problem is, men don't. Although, it's probably my saving grace... beating the "herpes bullet" and whatnot.
If it wasn't for hallpass husbands, I probably wouldn't have sex, ever.
It's just too bad I can never return the favor.
Channing Tatum, sweatpants strip tease.
I know I'm a rare breed of girl that likes group sex. I like it a lot. Problem is, men don't. Although, it's probably my saving grace... beating the "herpes bullet" and whatnot.
If it wasn't for hallpass husbands, I probably wouldn't have sex, ever.
It's just too bad I can never return the favor.
Hot couples! Hot couples, everywhere!
This is truly a tragedy. If one more hot couple writes me wanting to know if I found a male playmate yet, I'm going into the nunnery. No. No I haven't found a male playmate, yet. And in all seriousness, if I won't have sex with him, why should your wife?
Hot couples
I've gotten emails this weekend by some seriously smoking hot couples.
"What are you guys doing tonight?" they ask.
There is no "you guys"... only me.
The only single guys I know are Evan and Joseph, and I would rather end my life with strychnine, than spend an evening with either one of them.
Sorry ladies, I have nothing to offer you.
I watch (oral) gay porn
Lately, I've been watching older male (bear types) giving oral on younger male (medical intern types) porn. If I, a straight girl, can find that hot, why wouldn't gay men not be turned on by watching straight male sex, live feeds?
And
I will never understand it, but...
Who cares if gay men are masturbating while watching you on the computer? You're not even in the same room. You don't see them.
Then again...
Like I said...
Years of wiring.
And
I will never understand it, but...
Who cares if gay men are masturbating while watching you on the computer? You're not even in the same room. You don't see them.
Then again...
Like I said...
Years of wiring.
He wants a story. Here it is.
I'm very cerebral. Get in my head, I'm yours. Turn me off intellectually, I'm gone. Once that switch is off, it's never turned on again. Regardless if you're a prostitute or a rocket scientist, that's just how I'm wired.
And so now this other writer from this one particular original AMC series, is following my blogs.
What do you want?
A story?
Fine.
Let's just get this out of the way...
Hypothetically speaking...
My two male consociates, Kelly and Evan, have ruined me for all other men.
How?
Kelly is happily married to a fantastic beautiful (stunning!) woman. They found me on a swinger website some years ago. I thought they were both adult performers, or I thought at least she was, but at the time we met, neither were.
Kelly, his wife, and I met, hung out, really enjoyed each other's company, and hung out again. Platonic. Dinners. Drinks. Then she asked if while she was out of town would I mind keeping Kelly company. And that's how our friendship began.
I had kept other husbands company this way. So this was nothing new.
Evan, is single, not surprisingly. I can barely tolerate being in the same room with him now. Entitlement. Arrogance. What I once thought endearing in character, no more.
He reminds me of Joseph, a friend of Aramis.
Evan's mere presence makes me edgy. He's extremely attractive, movie star attractive, and well-taken care of by generous married women (Currently just the two.)
Both men are very well endowed, with compulsion to "pump". How do I know this?
Timing is everything.
I met Scott, in 2007, on a swinger website. I was in a serious relationship on the rocks at the time, moved out and got my own place.
Scott asked if I ever had two men at one time.
Yes I had.
"How?" Scott asked.
One guy at each end.
"Ever consider a DP or a DVP?" Scott asked. "I have this buddy. His name is Evan."
My experience with these two men, Scott and Evan, changed my life. I had been with two men before, regularly, they were roommates, but not like this. To be surrounded and sexually overwhelmed by these two masculine men, was the most feminine, empowering and sexy, I had ever felt.
Sometime in 2011, was the first time I heard the term "airtight". And I wanted to try this since my ex and I were fighting again, and I had once more moved out.
Timing is everything.
And thats when Kelly and his wife found me on a swinger website.
It's all about timing.
I somehow managed my "airtight" with Scott, Kelly, and Evan. Kelly's wife snapped the photos and posted them on their swinger website.
And that's when all the nuttiness began.
To my knowledge, honest truth, Scott, Evan, and Kelly are 100% straight.
100%
They all know I've given oral on a guy with another guy before. So if ever they were curious, they could totally talk about it with me. But it's never come up. Not once. Not ever.
So as you can imagine, naturally, when (this other guy) who saw our photos said, "You know fellas, you could make some money webcamming in the gay circuit..."
Scott, Evan, and Kelly, all told (this other guy) to go fuck himself.
But me, being who I am, being wired the way I am, asked (this other guy), "How much money are we talking about?"
I've been told, repeatedly, gay porn makes far more money than straight porn. And I can only assess this piece of information, on a personal level, hypothetically speaking, based on past webcam experience, as being entirely correct.
In my forever studious persona, I asked Evan, "Why would gay men want to masturbate watching you and other men have anal sex with me, a girl?"
"I don't know. Whatever." Evan thoroughly replied.
Genius.
But
I think that is, in fact, the actual truthy answer...
Why? I don't know. Whatever.
In 2012, again recently single, myself and two other men, wingmen, all got tested and... DVPcreampied.
Fucking amazing.
I've been blissfully single ever since 2012 because of this experience.
No drama. No problems.
The only way I would ever enter into another serious relationship with anyone ever again, is if (that) among other things was part of our sex life.
I may never have (that) experience ever again...
But as I have previously answered in text several times over, you cannot ask me to unwind the fibers of thread that has made me over half a lifetime.
Hypothetically speaking, of course.
And so now this other writer from this one particular original AMC series, is following my blogs.
What do you want?
A story?
Fine.
Let's just get this out of the way...
Hypothetically speaking...
My two male consociates, Kelly and Evan, have ruined me for all other men.
How?
Kelly is happily married to a fantastic beautiful (stunning!) woman. They found me on a swinger website some years ago. I thought they were both adult performers, or I thought at least she was, but at the time we met, neither were.
Kelly, his wife, and I met, hung out, really enjoyed each other's company, and hung out again. Platonic. Dinners. Drinks. Then she asked if while she was out of town would I mind keeping Kelly company. And that's how our friendship began.
I had kept other husbands company this way. So this was nothing new.
Evan, is single, not surprisingly. I can barely tolerate being in the same room with him now. Entitlement. Arrogance. What I once thought endearing in character, no more.
He reminds me of Joseph, a friend of Aramis.
Evan's mere presence makes me edgy. He's extremely attractive, movie star attractive, and well-taken care of by generous married women (Currently just the two.)
Both men are very well endowed, with compulsion to "pump". How do I know this?
Timing is everything.
I met Scott, in 2007, on a swinger website. I was in a serious relationship on the rocks at the time, moved out and got my own place.
Scott asked if I ever had two men at one time.
Yes I had.
"How?" Scott asked.
One guy at each end.
"Ever consider a DP or a DVP?" Scott asked. "I have this buddy. His name is Evan."
My experience with these two men, Scott and Evan, changed my life. I had been with two men before, regularly, they were roommates, but not like this. To be surrounded and sexually overwhelmed by these two masculine men, was the most feminine, empowering and sexy, I had ever felt.
Sometime in 2011, was the first time I heard the term "airtight". And I wanted to try this since my ex and I were fighting again, and I had once more moved out.
Timing is everything.
And thats when Kelly and his wife found me on a swinger website.
It's all about timing.
I somehow managed my "airtight" with Scott, Kelly, and Evan. Kelly's wife snapped the photos and posted them on their swinger website.
And that's when all the nuttiness began.
To my knowledge, honest truth, Scott, Evan, and Kelly are 100% straight.
100%
They all know I've given oral on a guy with another guy before. So if ever they were curious, they could totally talk about it with me. But it's never come up. Not once. Not ever.
So as you can imagine, naturally, when (this other guy) who saw our photos said, "You know fellas, you could make some money webcamming in the gay circuit..."
Scott, Evan, and Kelly, all told (this other guy) to go fuck himself.
But me, being who I am, being wired the way I am, asked (this other guy), "How much money are we talking about?"
I've been told, repeatedly, gay porn makes far more money than straight porn. And I can only assess this piece of information, on a personal level, hypothetically speaking, based on past webcam experience, as being entirely correct.
In my forever studious persona, I asked Evan, "Why would gay men want to masturbate watching you and other men have anal sex with me, a girl?"
"I don't know. Whatever." Evan thoroughly replied.
Genius.
But
I think that is, in fact, the actual truthy answer...
Why? I don't know. Whatever.
In 2012, again recently single, myself and two other men, wingmen, all got tested and... DVPcreampied.
Fucking amazing.
I've been blissfully single ever since 2012 because of this experience.
No drama. No problems.
The only way I would ever enter into another serious relationship with anyone ever again, is if (that) among other things was part of our sex life.
I may never have (that) experience ever again...
But as I have previously answered in text several times over, you cannot ask me to unwind the fibers of thread that has made me over half a lifetime.
Hypothetically speaking, of course.
Thursday, June 25, 2015
Gross incompetence. It's a thing.
You can't fight stupid. It easier joining them. Aramis and I "accidentally" ended up at Mexicali, Studio City, due to our gross incompetence for driving directions. Sorry. Of course we have GPS but we're both too stupid to use it.
I approve this message.
When you text with someone (you) do realize texting is in print. You can't get away with, "I never said this" or "We never discussed that" when if you scroll up, there's the entire conversation for you to re-read.
Genius.
I would love to call (you) to discuss things further, but this phone is really, really hard to operate. All these buttons on this keypad.. Simone confused!
Why do they make phones so hard to operate! (310) 63&?35@?!'taxkyw£\_?=#hk
See what I mean?! Hard!!
I approve this message.
When you text with someone (you) do realize texting is in print. You can't get away with, "I never said this" or "We never discussed that" when if you scroll up, there's the entire conversation for you to re-read.
Genius.
I would love to call (you) to discuss things further, but this phone is really, really hard to operate. All these buttons on this keypad.. Simone confused!
Why do they make phones so hard to operate! (310) 63&?35@?!'taxkyw£\_?=#hk
See what I mean?! Hard!!
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
Some guy from Stillwater, MN
He's from Stillwater, MN.
I'm from (some place else) Minnesota.
He just moved to Los Angeles.
I like connecting with Midwest people. My childhood memories are my favorite.
And so...
Stillwater and I started chatting. Texting. We met once before. Just for coffee along Abbot Kinney. Thought it could be cool to hang out again. Maybe Sunday?
Saturday evening however he text, "I finally got my furniture. And my bed." (hint hint)
I didn't have a response for that so I ignored his text. Nice guy. Just not interested in his bed.
But apparently when a MN guy texts you the word "bed" it's his way of saying, "want to have sex?"
"I'm just keeping it low key today. I don't want to do (anything else) but hang out at the beach." I text back the next day. Meaning whatever you have in mind, no.
And then 1,001 text messages flood my message inbox.
(Jesus Christ. Really?)
Because nothing turns a girl on more than having a guy you just met, and said no to, flood your message inbox with random hostility.
In the end, Stillwater remarked, "Show me your Minnesota roots. Not this crazy LA girl shit."
Because when a girl says "no" she's a crazy LA girl.
As (comic) Lewis Black, once said, the only reason states like MN exist is because pioneers crossing the all weather barren plains, dying of exposure, starvation and/or disease, just said "fuck it, we can go no further" and thus the mighty Great Lake state of Minnesota, was shaped...
As were the states of North Dakota, South Dakota, Wisconsin, and Wyoming.
American Indians, of these great middle American states, made popcorn and watched the pioneer Anglo white pilgrims wearing large buckled shoes, throw rocks at the fish in half frozen streams hoping to at least give some poor fish a concussion long enough to yank it from the water.
And
If MN is so wonderful what are YOU doing in CA?
There's a reason I live in CA, Minnesota winters, suck. No one should live anywhere it gets -10 below zero!
MN is still home for as long as I have at least one loved one there, after all, home is where the heart is, but if any of my immediate family were to move to Los Angeles, I'm packing my bags and mapping the highways and freeways to (anywhere else!)
He called me mean.
No. THIS is mean...
There's a reason the state penitentiary is in Stillwater. The state deemed it the most suitable place to put all the human debris we don't want in our neighborhoods.
So before you start with the, "Show me your MN roots, not this crazy L.A. girl shit." You need not forget one little thing that is still VERY Minnesotan, that being, as much as I dislike my brothers right now, one little phone call from me, their baby sister, that some creep is mistreating me -- my brothers are on the first plane to Los Angeles, to kick your ass.
It doesn't get more Minnesota, than that. It doesn't even have to be my brothers. It can be any guy from my home town. Any guy I grew up with.
Worry not Stillwater, a sucker is born every minute. Both male and female. I'm sure you'll find a mate no one else wants to touch, in no time.
I'm from (some place else) Minnesota.
He just moved to Los Angeles.
I like connecting with Midwest people. My childhood memories are my favorite.
And so...
Stillwater and I started chatting. Texting. We met once before. Just for coffee along Abbot Kinney. Thought it could be cool to hang out again. Maybe Sunday?
Saturday evening however he text, "I finally got my furniture. And my bed." (hint hint)
I didn't have a response for that so I ignored his text. Nice guy. Just not interested in his bed.
But apparently when a MN guy texts you the word "bed" it's his way of saying, "want to have sex?"
"I'm just keeping it low key today. I don't want to do (anything else) but hang out at the beach." I text back the next day. Meaning whatever you have in mind, no.
And then 1,001 text messages flood my message inbox.
(Jesus Christ. Really?)
Because nothing turns a girl on more than having a guy you just met, and said no to, flood your message inbox with random hostility.
In the end, Stillwater remarked, "Show me your Minnesota roots. Not this crazy LA girl shit."
Because when a girl says "no" she's a crazy LA girl.
As (comic) Lewis Black, once said, the only reason states like MN exist is because pioneers crossing the all weather barren plains, dying of exposure, starvation and/or disease, just said "fuck it, we can go no further" and thus the mighty Great Lake state of Minnesota, was shaped...
As were the states of North Dakota, South Dakota, Wisconsin, and Wyoming.
American Indians, of these great middle American states, made popcorn and watched the pioneer Anglo white pilgrims wearing large buckled shoes, throw rocks at the fish in half frozen streams hoping to at least give some poor fish a concussion long enough to yank it from the water.
And
If MN is so wonderful what are YOU doing in CA?
There's a reason I live in CA, Minnesota winters, suck. No one should live anywhere it gets -10 below zero!
MN is still home for as long as I have at least one loved one there, after all, home is where the heart is, but if any of my immediate family were to move to Los Angeles, I'm packing my bags and mapping the highways and freeways to (anywhere else!)
He called me mean.
No. THIS is mean...
There's a reason the state penitentiary is in Stillwater. The state deemed it the most suitable place to put all the human debris we don't want in our neighborhoods.
So before you start with the, "Show me your MN roots, not this crazy L.A. girl shit." You need not forget one little thing that is still VERY Minnesotan, that being, as much as I dislike my brothers right now, one little phone call from me, their baby sister, that some creep is mistreating me -- my brothers are on the first plane to Los Angeles, to kick your ass.
It doesn't get more Minnesota, than that. It doesn't even have to be my brothers. It can be any guy from my home town. Any guy I grew up with.
Worry not Stillwater, a sucker is born every minute. Both male and female. I'm sure you'll find a mate no one else wants to touch, in no time.
Saturday, June 20, 2015
Channing Tatum. On Reddit.
Best reddit. Ever.
Channing Tatum.
Better than Jon Stewart's, Reddit. I can say that. Stewart, only has a few Daily Show, eps left.
Channing Tatum.
Great advise on threesomes.
Friends with Shia Labouf.
Smoking hot talented wife.
Awesome outlook on life.
Funny.
Humble.
Talented
Could have done without the "Arctic poop" story.
But...
Channing Tatum, said (you) would have to ask his wife if (you) could grab his ass and touch his abs...
And so,
Consider this part of my blog me asking Jenna Dewan-Tatum, "Can I please grab your husband's ass and touch his abs?"
He said to ask you first, which I would do anyway.
I've met many wives in the past and asked their permission to do (all sorts of things) with their husbands and graciously they've all said yes.
Winning!
This would be the ultimate win, by and far. No. That's not true.
Being allowed to do anything more with Channing Tatum, would probably kill me so let's just stick with the ab-tap and ass grab.
Please and thank you!
Channing Tatum.
Better than Jon Stewart's, Reddit. I can say that. Stewart, only has a few Daily Show, eps left.
Channing Tatum.
Great advise on threesomes.
Friends with Shia Labouf.
Smoking hot talented wife.
Awesome outlook on life.
Funny.
Humble.
Talented
Could have done without the "Arctic poop" story.
But...
Channing Tatum, said (you) would have to ask his wife if (you) could grab his ass and touch his abs...
And so,
Consider this part of my blog me asking Jenna Dewan-Tatum, "Can I please grab your husband's ass and touch his abs?"
He said to ask you first, which I would do anyway.
I've met many wives in the past and asked their permission to do (all sorts of things) with their husbands and graciously they've all said yes.
Winning!
This would be the ultimate win, by and far. No. That's not true.
Being allowed to do anything more with Channing Tatum, would probably kill me so let's just stick with the ab-tap and ass grab.
Please and thank you!
Friday, June 19, 2015
Fathers. Daughters.
On this Fathers Day Weekend
As another man's daughter...
You will love your daughter in a unique way, unlike any other girl or woman. You and your daughter both will be resented for it eventually, however brief. Jealousy. The only reward for this resentment is knowing your daughter loves you just as uniquely, unlike any other boy or man. This is the father/daughter bond that cannot be undone.
I'm the eyes of your daughter, as angry as we may get towards you, you are, and will forever be, irreplaceable.
As another man's daughter...
You will love your daughter in a unique way, unlike any other girl or woman. You and your daughter both will be resented for it eventually, however brief. Jealousy. The only reward for this resentment is knowing your daughter loves you just as uniquely, unlike any other boy or man. This is the father/daughter bond that cannot be undone.
I'm the eyes of your daughter, as angry as we may get towards you, you are, and will forever be, irreplaceable.
Wednesday, June 17, 2015
I need a man
You're a man with a gun in your hand, raging a war between good and evil can be a bore...
SMUT
Does anyone know (director) David Wendell? What was his 1999 SMUT project about? Did it ever hit the can? I'm thinking no. I have use for this...
Best Kat in town
"So wonderful to be in pasadena where it's 138 durin' the day and 36 at night. A pimp don't know what to wear, I'm down in the hotel lobby I got on a fur coat, some swimmin' trunks, some timberlands and uh umbrella 'cause I don't know what may happen in this raggedy bitch this evenin'."
- Katt Williams
- Katt Williams
These two women
When she met my dad her biggest threat was the little girl in the photos. She knew this child could end all her hopes and dreams. In the end, she fought hard and prevailed. Followed by her fear of losing him.
Had she gotten to know me then she would have learned I only ever wanted my dad to be happy. I knew he was not. Not with the woman he was presently married to. Had she invited me to tea, to walk with her, to speak with her, she would have observed I was more open minded, mature than than other girls my age. Had she just given me a chance...
But love blind her.
Love. It is a wondrous thing.
Years past. Bad feelings.
I grew tired and left.
Things happen as they should.
Years past. My dad told her how much he missed me. She contact me and flew me home. What do you suppose was going on in her mind moments before she got me on the phone? How much courage did she have to summon? Perhaps none. Fueled only by love for my dad.
Catholics are good for guilt. I'll allow her to have some. But...
I know how much she loved my dad.
In the years leading to dad's cancer, she and I became more than civil. I wouldn't call her friend or family, but more than civil. I respect her. I admire her. I love her, for loving my dad. As I would have back then had she just talked to me, given me a chance.
During these years, she and I have had coffee, meals, walks, shopping, good conversation.
Since my dad died, she is the only one who has behaved like family. She is the only behaving with dignity and respect. And she lost more than anyone.
Sometimes. it is perhaps best if men just stepped aside and let us ladies have tea together.
The things we could accomplish.
Had she gotten to know me then she would have learned I only ever wanted my dad to be happy. I knew he was not. Not with the woman he was presently married to. Had she invited me to tea, to walk with her, to speak with her, she would have observed I was more open minded, mature than than other girls my age. Had she just given me a chance...
But love blind her.
Love. It is a wondrous thing.
Years past. Bad feelings.
I grew tired and left.
Things happen as they should.
Years past. My dad told her how much he missed me. She contact me and flew me home. What do you suppose was going on in her mind moments before she got me on the phone? How much courage did she have to summon? Perhaps none. Fueled only by love for my dad.
Catholics are good for guilt. I'll allow her to have some. But...
I know how much she loved my dad.
In the years leading to dad's cancer, she and I became more than civil. I wouldn't call her friend or family, but more than civil. I respect her. I admire her. I love her, for loving my dad. As I would have back then had she just talked to me, given me a chance.
During these years, she and I have had coffee, meals, walks, shopping, good conversation.
Since my dad died, she is the only one who has behaved like family. She is the only behaving with dignity and respect. And she lost more than anyone.
Sometimes. it is perhaps best if men just stepped aside and let us ladies have tea together.
The things we could accomplish.
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
Monday, June 15, 2015
Simone. Confused.
It's all a blur. They buried my dad today. Just the idea of dad in a casket, under ground, is kind of... freaking me out.
Yesterday I was at WeHo Gay Pride. Like everyone else I followed the Channing Tatum, Magic Mike, float. Channing Tatum, was dancing, Matt Bomer, wasn't. How do you NOT dance at a gay pride parade, mister Bomer! I followed their float until I got the bagpipes, and the bagpipes people were playing that Irish death march song they play at cops funerals... Christ... I almost lost it.
I tried getting Happy. They lost me when Thom Payne, humped the couch thinking he was fucking Mrs Keebler Elf... ? Normally that would make sense and be funny, but it was like masturbating and not being able to finish. Again, it was a weird day.
I'm just trying to...
Yesterday I was at WeHo Gay Pride. Like everyone else I followed the Channing Tatum, Magic Mike, float. Channing Tatum, was dancing, Matt Bomer, wasn't. How do you NOT dance at a gay pride parade, mister Bomer! I followed their float until I got the bagpipes, and the bagpipes people were playing that Irish death march song they play at cops funerals... Christ... I almost lost it.
I tried getting Happy. They lost me when Thom Payne, humped the couch thinking he was fucking Mrs Keebler Elf... ? Normally that would make sense and be funny, but it was like masturbating and not being able to finish. Again, it was a weird day.
I'm just trying to...
Sunday, June 14, 2015
No regrets
It has been a very strange week.
It's true what they say about walking around in a haze after someone close to you dies. You truly do walk around in a fog.
Death, is a lot to process.
In the past 24 hours,
I have seen countless photos of my dad who I would not recognize on my own. That's my dad? Strange.
I knew dad was in the Air Force. I knew dad was a dental technician. I know dad was from Utah, and raised Mormon. And I knew trivial bits and pieces of who dad was, things I investigated, things I discovered accidentally pertaining to when he was a young man, but these photos I now have seen were taken after he became my dad.
When my dad met his (now) widow, dad was married with my brothers and me in tow.
When dad spent more time with his "other family" my brothers took it very hard. They felt abandoned, snubbed, and disgraced. I too was hurt but for different reasons. I was still a kid, not yet appropriate age to venture into the world unsupervised. I had questions and experiences that required a parent who had my best interest at heart, to help me process.
When I was 19 years old, I left MN. When dad discovered I packed my bags and jumped on a bus to CA he was furious. He didn't speak to me for a long time. And I was ok with that. Rebellious. Defiant. You don't get to pick and chose when to be a dad. I'm 19 years old. Legal age. I don't need you anymore. Where were you then?
But my brothers stayed home and stewed with anger all the way deep into their adult years. They're angry still. Our dad died last Wednesday, and they're still angry.
Reason being,
Dad's (now) widow posted over 100 photos on dad's memorial page of her children growing up with (I guess our) dad. In dad's obituary she wrote dad was survived by six children. Dad doesn't have six children. His (now) widow included her children as well. I wondered why she would do that until...
Seeing all those photos of my dad and her children stirred some old feelings. No doubt stirred feelings with my brothers. My oldest brother, who has all our family photos, could have added our photos to dad's memorial page but declined, leaving most of the pictures on dad's memorial page of his (now) widow and her children. My oldest brother chose not to include us.
It seems, according to the photos posted on dad's page, dad was more involved with her children when they were all quite young. Really young. Where was their father? Are these kids all her children she had with her ex husband?
For me, personally, nothing really shocks me anymore. You could tell me my dad fathered two of her kids, and I wouldn't be surprised. Actually it sure would explain a lot. And, now, really, who cares?
Growing up, I never wanted for anything. Dad provided. But the only thing I wanted while growing up was knowledge and life experiences. Seriously. It sounds dumb but that's all I wanted. I couldn't feed my brain and body fast enough. I didn't want the ten speeds or the toys. I wanted to feed my curiosities. I was beyond thirsty. I can see where some people might think I was ungrateful. Dad gave you all this and you didn't want any of it.
You can't force people to have what they don't want, and be happy.
Today's Gay Pride, in West Hollywood.
I'm gonna get my glow stick on and celebrate the living. It took a lifetime but the dad I knew and loved before he died wouldn't want it any other way.
It's true what they say about walking around in a haze after someone close to you dies. You truly do walk around in a fog.
Death, is a lot to process.
In the past 24 hours,
I have seen countless photos of my dad who I would not recognize on my own. That's my dad? Strange.
I knew dad was in the Air Force. I knew dad was a dental technician. I know dad was from Utah, and raised Mormon. And I knew trivial bits and pieces of who dad was, things I investigated, things I discovered accidentally pertaining to when he was a young man, but these photos I now have seen were taken after he became my dad.
When my dad met his (now) widow, dad was married with my brothers and me in tow.
When dad spent more time with his "other family" my brothers took it very hard. They felt abandoned, snubbed, and disgraced. I too was hurt but for different reasons. I was still a kid, not yet appropriate age to venture into the world unsupervised. I had questions and experiences that required a parent who had my best interest at heart, to help me process.
When I was 19 years old, I left MN. When dad discovered I packed my bags and jumped on a bus to CA he was furious. He didn't speak to me for a long time. And I was ok with that. Rebellious. Defiant. You don't get to pick and chose when to be a dad. I'm 19 years old. Legal age. I don't need you anymore. Where were you then?
But my brothers stayed home and stewed with anger all the way deep into their adult years. They're angry still. Our dad died last Wednesday, and they're still angry.
Reason being,
Dad's (now) widow posted over 100 photos on dad's memorial page of her children growing up with (I guess our) dad. In dad's obituary she wrote dad was survived by six children. Dad doesn't have six children. His (now) widow included her children as well. I wondered why she would do that until...
Seeing all those photos of my dad and her children stirred some old feelings. No doubt stirred feelings with my brothers. My oldest brother, who has all our family photos, could have added our photos to dad's memorial page but declined, leaving most of the pictures on dad's memorial page of his (now) widow and her children. My oldest brother chose not to include us.
It seems, according to the photos posted on dad's page, dad was more involved with her children when they were all quite young. Really young. Where was their father? Are these kids all her children she had with her ex husband?
For me, personally, nothing really shocks me anymore. You could tell me my dad fathered two of her kids, and I wouldn't be surprised. Actually it sure would explain a lot. And, now, really, who cares?
Growing up, I never wanted for anything. Dad provided. But the only thing I wanted while growing up was knowledge and life experiences. Seriously. It sounds dumb but that's all I wanted. I couldn't feed my brain and body fast enough. I didn't want the ten speeds or the toys. I wanted to feed my curiosities. I was beyond thirsty. I can see where some people might think I was ungrateful. Dad gave you all this and you didn't want any of it.
You can't force people to have what they don't want, and be happy.
Today's Gay Pride, in West Hollywood.
I'm gonna get my glow stick on and celebrate the living. It took a lifetime but the dad I knew and loved before he died wouldn't want it any other way.
Saturday, June 13, 2015
Wednesday, June 10, 2015
The ocean in June, and morphine
One summer when I was about 10 years old, dad packed all of us in the family car and drove to the west coast. Took maybe 3 or 4 days to get there. Upon arrival dad took us directly to the ocean. I don't recall which beach we were on, but my brothers and I jumped out of the car, raced down the sand, kicked off our shoes and dipped our feet in the ocean for the very first time.
It was a warm day. Grey skies. The beach half full of people.
With my little feet cooling in the pacific water, a sudden wave lapped the beach, caught my feet, flipped me in the air, knocking me on my butt, almost carrying me out with the tide into the ocean.
I remember people nearby scrambling towards me. But it was my dad who scooped me up in his arms and said, "You're ok. You're ok. I got you." and then thanked everyone for running over to help.
I don't remember anything else from that vacation, or that summer. Only that I fell in love with where I was at that particular moment. Ten years later I moved to the west coast.
Today
Now
Dad is on a morphine drip. I'm told this is common procedure with hospice care. The morphine takes away all the pain. Puts you in a state of calm and rest.
I made arrangements with my dad's wife to FaceTime with my dad at 2pm. I packed a small bag and headed to the ocean. Santa Monica beach. Away from the pier. I wanted to take dad back to the ocean, back to a time that most likely means more to me than him.
At 2pm I got dad and his wife on FaceTime. Dad was able to open his eyes for maybe 15 seconds. I tried best I could to give dad a panoramic view of the beach, the ocean, and then said "I love you" to one another as many times possible within those 15 seconds before dad closed his eyes again.
It's just a matter of days now.
When dad closed his eyes again, his wife and I talked. She told me dad wanted me to not feel bad for him. She said he accepts it's his time to go. She said dad needed me to live my life, be happy, and not feel any sorrow for him. He's had a good life.
Still,
As sad as this is and was, as heavy as it has weighed on my mind these past 10 months, it was a giant relief to get "permission" to go on living.
Mixed in with every emotion is also guilt. First I felt overwhelming guilty when I ate knowing dad couldn't and wasn't, and then I felt guilty for living, for being alive. Survival guilt, they call it.
On my way to FaceTime with my dad at the beach, (this guy) text me wanting to meet for coffee.
"After 4pm I'll be available." I told him.
He replied, "Why after 4pm?! How many other guys you seeing today?!"
Yes. That's where his mind went. I couldn't (possibly) be doing anything else today. Nope. Nothing.
"You know men are idiots, right?" my male friends constantly tell me. But I don't believe that. I don't believe men are idiots. And I don't believe people should be so easily excused as irresponsibly as their irresponsible behavior.
Be that as it may,
I no longer have a response for these people and their lack guile, lack of filter, and lack of general decency. Oh look, my smartphone has call block. Fantastic.
I would make a terrible agent. I would just end up call blocking all my clients.
Anyway,
Sleep
Yesterday I had drinks with Aramis at Rocco's in Studio City. Then drinks with someone very dear to me, afterwards. I have to get up in 3 hours and run. It's almost tourist season and you know what that means...
It was a warm day. Grey skies. The beach half full of people.
With my little feet cooling in the pacific water, a sudden wave lapped the beach, caught my feet, flipped me in the air, knocking me on my butt, almost carrying me out with the tide into the ocean.
I remember people nearby scrambling towards me. But it was my dad who scooped me up in his arms and said, "You're ok. You're ok. I got you." and then thanked everyone for running over to help.
I don't remember anything else from that vacation, or that summer. Only that I fell in love with where I was at that particular moment. Ten years later I moved to the west coast.
Today
Now
Dad is on a morphine drip. I'm told this is common procedure with hospice care. The morphine takes away all the pain. Puts you in a state of calm and rest.
I made arrangements with my dad's wife to FaceTime with my dad at 2pm. I packed a small bag and headed to the ocean. Santa Monica beach. Away from the pier. I wanted to take dad back to the ocean, back to a time that most likely means more to me than him.
At 2pm I got dad and his wife on FaceTime. Dad was able to open his eyes for maybe 15 seconds. I tried best I could to give dad a panoramic view of the beach, the ocean, and then said "I love you" to one another as many times possible within those 15 seconds before dad closed his eyes again.
It's just a matter of days now.
When dad closed his eyes again, his wife and I talked. She told me dad wanted me to not feel bad for him. She said he accepts it's his time to go. She said dad needed me to live my life, be happy, and not feel any sorrow for him. He's had a good life.
Still,
As sad as this is and was, as heavy as it has weighed on my mind these past 10 months, it was a giant relief to get "permission" to go on living.
Mixed in with every emotion is also guilt. First I felt overwhelming guilty when I ate knowing dad couldn't and wasn't, and then I felt guilty for living, for being alive. Survival guilt, they call it.
On my way to FaceTime with my dad at the beach, (this guy) text me wanting to meet for coffee.
"After 4pm I'll be available." I told him.
He replied, "Why after 4pm?! How many other guys you seeing today?!"
Yes. That's where his mind went. I couldn't (possibly) be doing anything else today. Nope. Nothing.
"You know men are idiots, right?" my male friends constantly tell me. But I don't believe that. I don't believe men are idiots. And I don't believe people should be so easily excused as irresponsibly as their irresponsible behavior.
Be that as it may,
I no longer have a response for these people and their lack guile, lack of filter, and lack of general decency. Oh look, my smartphone has call block. Fantastic.
I would make a terrible agent. I would just end up call blocking all my clients.
Anyway,
Sleep
Yesterday I had drinks with Aramis at Rocco's in Studio City. Then drinks with someone very dear to me, afterwards. I have to get up in 3 hours and run. It's almost tourist season and you know what that means...
Tuesday, June 9, 2015
Petty
His leather jacket had chains that would jingle
They both met movie stars, partied and mingled
Their A&R man said, "I don't hear a single."
It's going to be a long day
So let's say I have a friend. Let's call him "Mr. Armani". And Mr Armani, is a naughty guy who likes to spank girls with a nice round ass. You 'll relax, have a drink and watch. After Mr Armani, spanks her bare ass to the point she's in tears, Mr. Armani, will turn the girl over to (the stud) so Mr Armani, can watch him make her a sloppy mess for 20 minutes while he sits in a chair and does his thing. What do you think about that?
His reply, "Why do you call him Mr Armani?"
I think you're missing the point.
His reply, "Why do you call him Mr Armani?"
I think you're missing the point.
My only conversation with (that guy)
"Can you call me on the phone. I need to make sure you're a girl."
Ok. Sure. Weird. But sure. So I called him on the phone.
"Sorry but so many gay guys text me."
No problem.
"I'm not gay."
Got it. Not gay.
"They'll even disguise their voices and pretend to be girls."
Well you're hot. But your bio says you're straight, so...
"Where are you?"
Right now, West Hollywood. Hanging with a friend.
"Ugh. I hate that place."
Why?
"I go into that part of town and guys are all over me."
You look like Channing Tatum. If you dance like him then you'd really be in trouble. Because let's face it, the only reason to watch 'Magic Mike' is to see Channing Tatum, dance.
"I walked into this gay bar in West Hollywood, and got mauled!"
But you're straight.
"Right."
Well you were in a gay bar, in a gay populated town. Why were you in a gay bar?
"Just checking things out. Seeing what's out there."
But you're straight?
"Yeah."
Bi curious?
"No way!"
So... why were you in a gay bar?
"I like to see what's out there."
Gotcha.
Aaaaand that was the end of our phone call.
How to get Kelly to return your phone calls
Just text him, "(Simone's) birth control, epic fail, congratulations you're going to be a dad!" Works every time.
Monday, June 8, 2015
Two Marines. ps
In addition, I forgot to mention in the last blog, when talking with these men about our (more specific) personal experiences, both Marines made this very sexy comment, "I wasn't worried. I can take care of myself, I'm a Marine."
Hot. Very hot!
Hot. Very hot!
Two Marines
Since Thursday I have met two men who both served in the Marines. One on land a foot soldier, the other a pilot. Both over 6'0 tall. The pilot, lean, cerebral, and vigilant. The foot soldier, muscular, decisive, and forward direct.
Aside from this blog, in the course of conversation, these two Marines are the only two people (not in the know) I mentioned dad's cancer to. When meeting strangers for the first, second, third time, I say little if anything about my personal life.
However
Military men talk entirely different than civilian men. It is in their training. Collecting data. Sorting information. Resolute. Completion steadfast and purposeful.
My dad would sometimes speak this way - brief, precise and direct. More instructive, less fluent.
As it would happen, both Marines too lost loved ones due to cancer both in the last two years.
The pilot when speaking of his experience was soft spoken yet firm, articulate and compassionate.
The foot soldier when speaking of his experience remained steady, in control, succinct yet compassionate.
I did not anticipate the weight my dad's cancer has had on my mind. Cancer effects everyone differently. Death effects everyone differently. And while I know this, I don't understand why this weighs so heavily on my mind, and not as much on others near and dear.
Between the two Marines, I can still hear the foot soldier telling me, "You have to keep going. You have to live. You have to work. You have to keep going. You have no other choice."
Simple.
It is with his words I carry with me today and following days forward. I have to keep going. In part because it is the pilot I wish to see again some day. Soon.
I have to keep going.
Thank you gentlemen. For everything.
The cancer has spread to my dad's head. Artificial life cannot help him now. Dad is going into hospice care. Between 1-5 weeks they estimate.
I wish you could have met my dad. He would have opened his front door, hugged you, offered you something drink, insist you try his home made pasta while proudly showing you the squash freshly plucked from his garden.
We have to keep going.
We have no other choice.
Aside from this blog, in the course of conversation, these two Marines are the only two people (not in the know) I mentioned dad's cancer to. When meeting strangers for the first, second, third time, I say little if anything about my personal life.
However
Military men talk entirely different than civilian men. It is in their training. Collecting data. Sorting information. Resolute. Completion steadfast and purposeful.
My dad would sometimes speak this way - brief, precise and direct. More instructive, less fluent.
As it would happen, both Marines too lost loved ones due to cancer both in the last two years.
The pilot when speaking of his experience was soft spoken yet firm, articulate and compassionate.
The foot soldier when speaking of his experience remained steady, in control, succinct yet compassionate.
I did not anticipate the weight my dad's cancer has had on my mind. Cancer effects everyone differently. Death effects everyone differently. And while I know this, I don't understand why this weighs so heavily on my mind, and not as much on others near and dear.
Between the two Marines, I can still hear the foot soldier telling me, "You have to keep going. You have to live. You have to work. You have to keep going. You have no other choice."
Simple.
It is with his words I carry with me today and following days forward. I have to keep going. In part because it is the pilot I wish to see again some day. Soon.
I have to keep going.
Thank you gentlemen. For everything.
The cancer has spread to my dad's head. Artificial life cannot help him now. Dad is going into hospice care. Between 1-5 weeks they estimate.
I wish you could have met my dad. He would have opened his front door, hugged you, offered you something drink, insist you try his home made pasta while proudly showing you the squash freshly plucked from his garden.
We have to keep going.
We have no other choice.
Sunday, June 7, 2015
Friday, June 5, 2015
Love and Cancer - part VI (threesomes)
This is my sixth blog on the subject of dealing with dad's cancer.
The "scandal" years ago involving my dad and his (current) wife is no secret. My dad was married at the time they met. She was married at the time. The two had a secret affair. Easily done when working together. My dad, the scamp he was, even brought his wife and his mistress to one of his political conventions. His (then) wife unaware of the affair between my dad and this other woman who worked with him.
(Sigh) Mormons.
Nevertheless
When dad broke it off with his (then) wife to be with his (now) wife it was very, very ugly to put it mildly. His (then) wife did not go quietly. It's been half a lifetime and she's still kicking and screaming.
(Sigh) Lutherans.
Be that as it may,
With my dad now remarried to his former mistress, the children did not happily Brady Bunch together. Quite the opposite. The blood was bad. A never ending river.
Storm troopers couldn't keep peace among the children. I left. In time, everyone wore themselves out, each side dragged their casualties of war home. The blood stayed bad.
Half a lifetime later,
Now,
Presently,
There are still two women in my dad's life.
Wife and daughter.
She is a devout Catholic who had a very poor upbringing. Poor as in no money. She loves my dad with all her heart. This is all I knew of her. It wasn't until my dad got cancer for the second time I started getting to know her. Half a lifetime later.
Today,
The (now) wife
Is struggling hard keeping my dad alive.
The daughter
Is struggling watching my dad's very slow death.
We two women see my dad in ways the other can only intellectually and compassionately understand, but not feel emotionally.
She wants him to live.
I want his suffering to end.
You could say I don't understand (their) love, she and my dad. For me, only one love exists if I should love at all. Imagine for a moment if the way you love him or her, is the same way you love everyone else fortunate to have your affection. Within seven degrees of separation, imagine how generous, forgiving, and understanding the human race would be towards one another. Imagine the end of war, poverty, and hatred, if all love was equal.
But this is not the case between my dad's wife and I. She loves him in a way I do not understand.
I saw dad last Monday. He weighs 110 pounds, including all the tubes keeping him alive. He lives solely because artificial life, and her power of attorney, make him so.
The daughter asks
What will it take to let him go?
The wife asks
What will it take for you to have faith in a miracle?
As you can observe, there's conflict.
I know she struggles. I know there will be an unspeakable depth of loneliness and disparity for her when my dad dies. I know my dad wants to live. But I wonder if either one of them truly believes he's living?
She loves him. Of that there is not a fiber of doubt. I'm grateful to her for loving my dad all these years. I'm grateful they found each other regardless of the circumstance. I'm grateful to her for caring for him. Anyone who has cared for a person with cancer will tell you, you are consumed every two hours of every day, but for her, more so because dad is an insulin diabetic. I love her. I adore her. And I know she will suffer horribly when he dies.
The wife
Looks at her husband and smiles that he still breathes.
The daughter
Looks at her dad and mourns for he is being forced to live unnaturally.
For her, for my dad's wife, for her well being, I support her. I support her decisions. I support everything she does concerning my dad. But I do not agree with her.
And all we can do is... wait.
And then wait some more.
And just keep waiting.
Life on hold.
In the meantime... I know a guy who will film our next project once all the paperwork has cleared. Both guys are 18+. Two forms ID. I checked. Twice.
It's still an art "project". Not "content".
Apple and the tree, my dear friends.
The "scandal" years ago involving my dad and his (current) wife is no secret. My dad was married at the time they met. She was married at the time. The two had a secret affair. Easily done when working together. My dad, the scamp he was, even brought his wife and his mistress to one of his political conventions. His (then) wife unaware of the affair between my dad and this other woman who worked with him.
(Sigh) Mormons.
Nevertheless
When dad broke it off with his (then) wife to be with his (now) wife it was very, very ugly to put it mildly. His (then) wife did not go quietly. It's been half a lifetime and she's still kicking and screaming.
(Sigh) Lutherans.
Be that as it may,
With my dad now remarried to his former mistress, the children did not happily Brady Bunch together. Quite the opposite. The blood was bad. A never ending river.
Storm troopers couldn't keep peace among the children. I left. In time, everyone wore themselves out, each side dragged their casualties of war home. The blood stayed bad.
Half a lifetime later,
Now,
Presently,
There are still two women in my dad's life.
Wife and daughter.
She is a devout Catholic who had a very poor upbringing. Poor as in no money. She loves my dad with all her heart. This is all I knew of her. It wasn't until my dad got cancer for the second time I started getting to know her. Half a lifetime later.
Today,
The (now) wife
Is struggling hard keeping my dad alive.
The daughter
Is struggling watching my dad's very slow death.
We two women see my dad in ways the other can only intellectually and compassionately understand, but not feel emotionally.
She wants him to live.
I want his suffering to end.
You could say I don't understand (their) love, she and my dad. For me, only one love exists if I should love at all. Imagine for a moment if the way you love him or her, is the same way you love everyone else fortunate to have your affection. Within seven degrees of separation, imagine how generous, forgiving, and understanding the human race would be towards one another. Imagine the end of war, poverty, and hatred, if all love was equal.
But this is not the case between my dad's wife and I. She loves him in a way I do not understand.
I saw dad last Monday. He weighs 110 pounds, including all the tubes keeping him alive. He lives solely because artificial life, and her power of attorney, make him so.
The daughter asks
What will it take to let him go?
The wife asks
What will it take for you to have faith in a miracle?
As you can observe, there's conflict.
I know she struggles. I know there will be an unspeakable depth of loneliness and disparity for her when my dad dies. I know my dad wants to live. But I wonder if either one of them truly believes he's living?
She loves him. Of that there is not a fiber of doubt. I'm grateful to her for loving my dad all these years. I'm grateful they found each other regardless of the circumstance. I'm grateful to her for caring for him. Anyone who has cared for a person with cancer will tell you, you are consumed every two hours of every day, but for her, more so because dad is an insulin diabetic. I love her. I adore her. And I know she will suffer horribly when he dies.
The wife
Looks at her husband and smiles that he still breathes.
The daughter
Looks at her dad and mourns for he is being forced to live unnaturally.
For her, for my dad's wife, for her well being, I support her. I support her decisions. I support everything she does concerning my dad. But I do not agree with her.
And all we can do is... wait.
And then wait some more.
And just keep waiting.
Life on hold.
In the meantime... I know a guy who will film our next project once all the paperwork has cleared. Both guys are 18+. Two forms ID. I checked. Twice.
It's still an art "project". Not "content".
Apple and the tree, my dear friends.