"I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go."
-'Words For the Wind' by Theodore Roethke
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go."
-'Words For the Wind' by Theodore Roethke
You know how they always have that saying where the only certainties of life are death and taxes? Can we add laundry to the list? Think about it. It's very close to summer and that means the most hell-raising moments of coming home from the gym with completely drenched cut-up t-shirts. You can literally wring them out to fill a small bucket.
Yessirree, I'd say that thanks to Spiderman 3 making its way to the theater on Friday (or 12:01am on Thursday for all the die-hard geeks), we can just consider that day to be summer. Forget calenders. Some of us go by what's happening in the theaters. Fall is for crap movies. Winter is for Oscar-worthy. Spring is for the so-so that whets appetites for better things. Would you believe that there are parents that follow what the theater spits out in accordance to the seasons?
I'll be driving on out to Indiana on Friday but with no idea as to whether I will be walking out of a theater mindlessly impersonating ownership of web-shooters. Would be great, though, swinging from building to building. This Indiana town doesn't have a lot of giant buildings so I'd have to wish for a more suitable means of transportation. Maybe I can teach myself rollerblading.
Do you really want to know how I spent my day? To some, it was a complete waste while others would find my insights amusing (only slightly). Here goes.........
Porn is called 'grot' in Europe. Well, I was in pursuit of the highest quality grot. It may not be something I will sit around and watch to my heart's sudden need to beat a little faster as various appendages give rise to impure thoughts. It all starts with Sara telling me that a little call from her to a friend that works at her local porn store means no Debbie Does Dallas Again. Can you see where this is going? It almost sounds sad and makes me feel like I am suddenly the proudest of all when it comes to the 1st Ammendment. We shall keep our right to grot.
Lo and behold, I went to 2 porn selling stores. Ended up with 0 grot. You know about Wal-Mart killing off mom-and-pop stores? Well, the 'Net, in my opinion, has slowly destroyed owning actual grot. We Americans would rather sit at our computers and watch the most filthy of our fantasies? Give me back the good old days of worrying about seeing someone you know holding a copy of 'Big Uns' as you wonder the actual value of a 6-Volume of Stinky Panties. It's all relative and, no, I didn't see you there.
What I found amusing was that after 2 years of finding no need to visit our most famous porn store, the one with the large fence to protect customers from anyone seeing them, "Hey, what's up, Mr. Savanski?" it barely had anything in there. Sure, there were the usual titles of gangbangs, Asian, Black, and the most dreaded of all for heterosexual males in fear of seeing large schlongs, 'All Male.' It's just that there wasn't much compared to when I first set foot in there.
While I don't have a problem with this, there are males that do. The manger/owner of our most famous porn store is a woman. Lordy, have we come a long way and a very nice lady, too. She came right up to me and asked whether I, the most out of place looking guy around, needed anything. I'm certainly not shy about saying what I want. If I wanted Super Squirters No. 8, I'd do it with a song in my heart. Only, my choice would be boring so the inevitable 'Debbie Does Dallas Again, please,' came out.
No, sold. And to add insult to injury, the other store where various large women wearing nothing but high heels and fish net tights walk around didn't carry it either. Can't a guy get some decent porn around here? I fell into an amusing interest when it came to Debbie Does Dallas all because of Showtime's blog-like 30-minute weekly show. Would you believe that a porn set can have some amusing chaos and sudden blurts of things you and I would be more quiet about?
The director:"Would you fuck Savannah?"
Male porn star: "Uh, okay."
Other than my dramatic day of trying to get good quality grot (this town needs a Hustler store), I toyed around with my blog. Of course, you can't miss the large picture of Sara and I on the bottom, my only highlight other than bringing back the text. How loopy is it to cause all words to just suddenly disappear like that? That is I, mildly retarded and in need of a helmet before going outdoors.
My only problems are adding various links to blogs I read on Blogger and a sitemeter. I'm a bit lost and in need of step-by-step instructions for the most confused in fashionable white males. You know us. We can be found the latest in Calvin Klein undies but bang our heads on the computer to match the black waistbands shown by loose shorts.
I'm slow. Forgive me. So, I bid you a goodnight seeing as I am still not sleeping well. The move from Diaryland is still weighing on my mind. 2,000something entries can make a home of some sort while the lack of activity towards improvements makes a desperate jump for something better. Why should I worry? I'll be curled up next to Sara on Friday night and awaiting the next Pirates Of.....with Keira on May 25th. Wouldn't it be great to suddenly get a large fuzzy tail and be able to live in the trees with squirrels during stressful periods? Happy twats all around.
Yessirree, I'd say that thanks to Spiderman 3 making its way to the theater on Friday (or 12:01am on Thursday for all the die-hard geeks), we can just consider that day to be summer. Forget calenders. Some of us go by what's happening in the theaters. Fall is for crap movies. Winter is for Oscar-worthy. Spring is for the so-so that whets appetites for better things. Would you believe that there are parents that follow what the theater spits out in accordance to the seasons?
I'll be driving on out to Indiana on Friday but with no idea as to whether I will be walking out of a theater mindlessly impersonating ownership of web-shooters. Would be great, though, swinging from building to building. This Indiana town doesn't have a lot of giant buildings so I'd have to wish for a more suitable means of transportation. Maybe I can teach myself rollerblading.
Do you really want to know how I spent my day? To some, it was a complete waste while others would find my insights amusing (only slightly). Here goes.........
Porn is called 'grot' in Europe. Well, I was in pursuit of the highest quality grot. It may not be something I will sit around and watch to my heart's sudden need to beat a little faster as various appendages give rise to impure thoughts. It all starts with Sara telling me that a little call from her to a friend that works at her local porn store means no Debbie Does Dallas Again. Can you see where this is going? It almost sounds sad and makes me feel like I am suddenly the proudest of all when it comes to the 1st Ammendment. We shall keep our right to grot.
Lo and behold, I went to 2 porn selling stores. Ended up with 0 grot. You know about Wal-Mart killing off mom-and-pop stores? Well, the 'Net, in my opinion, has slowly destroyed owning actual grot. We Americans would rather sit at our computers and watch the most filthy of our fantasies? Give me back the good old days of worrying about seeing someone you know holding a copy of 'Big Uns' as you wonder the actual value of a 6-Volume of Stinky Panties. It's all relative and, no, I didn't see you there.
What I found amusing was that after 2 years of finding no need to visit our most famous porn store, the one with the large fence to protect customers from anyone seeing them, "Hey, what's up, Mr. Savanski?" it barely had anything in there. Sure, there were the usual titles of gangbangs, Asian, Black, and the most dreaded of all for heterosexual males in fear of seeing large schlongs, 'All Male.' It's just that there wasn't much compared to when I first set foot in there.
While I don't have a problem with this, there are males that do. The manger/owner of our most famous porn store is a woman. Lordy, have we come a long way and a very nice lady, too. She came right up to me and asked whether I, the most out of place looking guy around, needed anything. I'm certainly not shy about saying what I want. If I wanted Super Squirters No. 8, I'd do it with a song in my heart. Only, my choice would be boring so the inevitable 'Debbie Does Dallas Again, please,' came out.
No, sold. And to add insult to injury, the other store where various large women wearing nothing but high heels and fish net tights walk around didn't carry it either. Can't a guy get some decent porn around here? I fell into an amusing interest when it came to Debbie Does Dallas all because of Showtime's blog-like 30-minute weekly show. Would you believe that a porn set can have some amusing chaos and sudden blurts of things you and I would be more quiet about?
The director:"Would you fuck Savannah?"
Male porn star: "Uh, okay."
Other than my dramatic day of trying to get good quality grot (this town needs a Hustler store), I toyed around with my blog. Of course, you can't miss the large picture of Sara and I on the bottom, my only highlight other than bringing back the text. How loopy is it to cause all words to just suddenly disappear like that? That is I, mildly retarded and in need of a helmet before going outdoors.
My only problems are adding various links to blogs I read on Blogger and a sitemeter. I'm a bit lost and in need of step-by-step instructions for the most confused in fashionable white males. You know us. We can be found the latest in Calvin Klein undies but bang our heads on the computer to match the black waistbands shown by loose shorts.
I'm slow. Forgive me. So, I bid you a goodnight seeing as I am still not sleeping well. The move from Diaryland is still weighing on my mind. 2,000something entries can make a home of some sort while the lack of activity towards improvements makes a desperate jump for something better. Why should I worry? I'll be curled up next to Sara on Friday night and awaiting the next Pirates Of.....with Keira on May 25th. Wouldn't it be great to suddenly get a large fuzzy tail and be able to live in the trees with squirrels during stressful periods? Happy twats all around.
3 comments:
Even more irony - Dland won't let me post my "Goodbye, good riddance" update, lol.
You really are quite technologically impaired, aren't you? That's okay, you're old and old people are supposed to understand the Internet. Blogspot's pretty user-friendly, though. The lack of HTML actually makes me kinda nervous. O_o
*aren't*. Aren't supposed to understand the Internet. It's early. *buries head in coffee tin*
Yeah, I found your blog. You inspired me to move to blogspot, too.
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