smooth as the handle on a gun, cool as a cucumber
some older women like much younger men
and cheap sex is always cheap
and a slut is always a slut
You might be aware that I just got back to the garret after a short sunshine break in Turkey. It was good for me, except that being a solitary traveller I had lots of time to indulge in some people watching, and the people I saw were not always the best advertisements for the male species. Overweight, unfit, beer gut, waddling, loud, interested mostly in booze and sports ~ too unfit to be much turned on by sex. They were mostly British, Germans, and Turks, but much the same could be said of American guys.
I looked at myself in the mirror. A long hard look, and I could see myself heading in that direction. Do I want to be a couch potato, an Archie Bunker, a fat loudmouthed beer-bottle slob? And Fuck No!
As men get older, as the testosterone leaches out of the bloodstream, as the achievements of our youth are behind us, it’s easy for men to let themselves go to seed. To watch too much TV, to drive rather than walk, to drink too much, to overfill our plates and gobble our food, to converse in grunts, to lose interest in sex….. No wonder there are lots of MILF’s and GILF’s out there. I may not approve, but I understand. Even James Bond got fat and carried a man-bag. Wazzock.
Ergo, I went up the mountain and talked with the elephant, and didn’t much like what she told me. ‘Get your act together…..’
No more beer, no more booze, no more burgers, no more take-outs, less sugar, less salt, more green vegetables, more exercise, more interest in women.
I look out across the sea today, and see the old castle where my ancestors fought. Saw the priests on the ferry taking the dead home, see their wives glad they’ve gone, see the priests fussing and flapping like a murder of crows wondering if they will get paid. See the fat men dying without even that honour. Their ghosts just trudging away, heavy footed.
If I have my way I’ll take a boat back from the river. I don’t care what it takes, it’s better to be poor, fit, and healthy than be a rich fat man trying to get through the eye of the needle.
Some say that once you get to be forty it’s all downhill to the grave. And that fat pale men with beer-bellies shouldn’t be with attractive women. All I know is I’m going to be the great guy with a good body relaxing by the pool, anywhere I want to be, with anyone I want to be with. And if you don’t want to be there, fuck off and have a nice day. I ain’t afraid of no Charon
don’t pay the ferryman until you must
Sometimes nightmares become terrifying reality.
sex and the stranger has left
just another of those bar boys
the Marconi plays downbeat
yellow moon rules the clouds
alone again after midnight
hurts that nobody even cares
that she’s scared filled with fright
soul peopled with dark dreams
her past sins have found the light
all she has are her worst nightmares
and solitary screaming in the night
I you’re not offending someone, you’re not doing your job.
Yesterday evening I started to write a post for today ~ or rather I began 3 different posts, and scrapped all of them. All three of those posts would have offended some of the people who follow my blog, and some of my close friends, so I junked all of those questionable posts.
I believe in absolute freedom of expression. Everyone has a right to be offended. ~ Taslima Nasrin
If you have followed my blog for any length of time you will know that I don’t shy away from offending some people, but the people I’m happy to offend deserve whatever they get, and more. I have no problem being offensive to Bankers, Politicians, Government Officials ~ and on Monday of this week I was offensive toward the disgusting sex-pests, perverts, paedophiles, and rapists who work for some ‘Big Charities’ such as Oxfam.
I’m not happy to offend the innocent who just happen to do, (or have done), some things I profoundly disagree with. That would be cruel, hurtful, hypocritical, mendacious, and vicious of me.
I try to practice ‘mindfulness’ every time I encounter a stressful feeling or negative emotion, of I am challenged by my own anger. Mindfulness grounds me in the present and stops me obsessing about the past. I can look at my feelings as though I am an uninvolved observer, rather than being at the centre of the maelstrom. That way I can act and react in a balanced and thoughtful way.
So, instead of what I intended to write about, which in each of the three cases would have been stressful, challenging, negative, and emotive ~ I’m going to tell you how I came to the decision that writing about this stuff would have been a bad idea.
These days I try to live a kind, mindful, self-aware, and spiritual existence ~ bringing inner peace and happiness to myself and those around me. Offending innocent people for no good reason than my own instant gratification is not living an ethical and spiritual existence.
I try to be accepting, understanding, and supportive to those around me. I do my best to live a mindful life. I work very hard at walking the warrior’s path to ultimate truth and inner peace. I profoundly believe that as I give to the world, so I shall receive in return.
Ergo, publishing a blog which I knew would upset and hurt some people, which would make them think that I was actually attacking them, was not who I am trying to be today. In any event, I am not perfect within myself.
When you are offended at any person’s fault, turn to yourself and study our own failings. Then you will forget your anger. ~ Epictetus
I want to make good changes in my relationships, my behaviours, habits, and routines ~ attacking someone, or a group of people, is neither good nor positive. So, I decided that I just wasn’t going to do it.
And you know what? I feel better for not publishing any of those three negative, emotive, and judgmental posts.
The posts I had half written, and then trashed were about Borderline Personality Disorder, casual sex with strangers, and the medicinal use of marijuana.
It’s so quiet in the ruins of a relationship.
It’s so fucking quiet in the ruins of,
walking through the old memories,
feeling the past with sexual regret,
the song stays the same but the lyrics,
are as distant as the wolf moon.
Good girls go to heaven. Bad girls go anywhere with anyone.
night is falling
witch moon rising
she visits bars prowling
drinking, posing, hot flirting
touching, stroking, deep kissing
allowing anything, wanting everything
there is no friendship, affection, romancing
satisfying her promiscuous lust by just fucking
men half her age
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