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Tuesday, September 5th, 2006
4:40 am	Of heterosexuality, hipsters, and homicide. Also known as, Melissa's Labor Day Weekend 2006 LOL!!11!eins!1 I know I haven't *really* updated, as in, without the aid of surveys, printscreen commands, and the like, since January 4th. The thing is...when I have more interesting things to actually tell people about, that's when I can't find the time/motivation to write. But tonight I realized why I got into Livejournal in the first place...I've considered myself a "writer" since I was 8 years old. Like most writers, I've suffered from The Block. This block of mine has been rather persistent, not constant, more like a re-occurring cough, for about 4 years. Were it not for blogging outlets like this, I would probably not write at all. At least, not for any sufficient length to truly tell a story. To break it down, I've had this journal about 2 years and 10 months: 2003: 2 months and 29 entries which gives an average of 14.5 entries a month 2004 before moving to New York: 5 months and 41 entries, average of 8.2 entries per month 2004, after moving to New York: 5 months and 31 entries, so 6.2 entries/month 2005: 10 months and 47 entries, so 4.7. entries per month This year: 6 months and 9 entries, which is 1.5 entries/month Summary: As I've gotten older, my adventures have come fewer and farther between. Actual truth: My life has gotten stranger, less predictable, and too new to be able to write about, at least for someone always criticized as being "too descriptive" in writing assignments in school. Next time, I will tell about my 5-week roadtrip I took this summer, and I will have pictures. As much for myself as youz guyz, as this roadtrip was a true chapter in my life. You know when you have a life-altering event that becomes a marker of time. Like "The first time such-and-such has happened since he died" or "The best time I've had since moving to whatever place". Well, this roadtrip was just what the reminiscence doctor ordered...10,000 miles, 19 states, 5 weeks...the first 2 weeks and 6000 miles by myself. I will tell a bit about all that once I have the pictures ready. They're on my camera still, which has died, so I must get the memory card to a working device of some sort. Ah well. I had such a gay weekend, I wanted to get it out now, while I'm awake. Friday: I did a shoot for Playboy TV. It was for a reality show based on a NYC photographer named Andrew Einhorn. He was photographing us for his next book, and Playboy was filming him for their reality show about him, which starts in January. I believe our episode is sometime in February... To briefly bring you up to speed...I've been posing in the nude for some student artists in the UES who go to Jacob Collins's Atelier. I've done it 3 times in the past few weeks, and I will be doing it every weekday in October. It pays well, and in cash, and in all honesty, it's the best thing I've ever done for money. I'm getting paid to be a human being, with a body. It's not sexual AT ALL, and requires nothing except full nudity. I don't get touched, and don't touch myself. I found the gig on Craigslist. Sooo...I also found an ad looking for "naked happy couples." It looked legit, as it namedropped Playboy. I showed it to my boy one night after a party, thinking he would just laugh. But alas, he's got some of the exhibitionist in him as well, and emailed the dude with a picture of us. Just our faces. The guy wrote back immediately, liked us alot, and wanted more pictures, more revealing. We sent those, no nudity though, we wanted to get paid before showing any real skin. And next thing I know, I'm talking to the producer, who wanted to make sure my stomach tattoo was not offensive. I told him the story of Porkchop, as well as my ethnic background, and we were in. The shoot was like 9 hours total. Basically, our "back story" was that we were married for 3 years and lived in TriBeCa. Lie, and lie. We've been seeing each other for less than 7 months, only met each other in January, and I live in the East Village while he lives in Bed-Stuy in Brooklyn. It started with us in Central Park, and Andrew just kind of finds us having a picnic. You know...that thing we do every weekend! That took about 6 takes. And honestly...There was a lot of acting involved, considering this was a so-called reality show. If a guy came up to me in Central Park, whether or not I was alone or with a dude, and said he a photographer, then handed me his book of naked girls...he woulda got stabbed. But because I was being paid, and there was a camera in my face, I smiled alot, giggled mildly, looked to Seth, and said "We'll talk about it, and get back to you!" Yeah right! The Melissa we all know and love would have thrown his book into the lake we were sitting next to, called this mensch a pornographer, kicked him in the balls, and run to the park po-po. Ohhhhh my friends...it was a true exercise in self-restraint. Thank god I have the patience of a teacher these days. Then the next part of the shoot was at Seth's place, in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn. To Non-New Yorkers...this is the closest thing to The Ghetto that NYC possesses, I believe, at least, among Manhattan and Brooklyn. TriBeCa is in downtown Manhattan, where the Olsen twins supposedly live. It's rather fancy. The 2 areas couldn't be more different. But, like the producer said, "The magic of editing!" So Andrew comes to Seth's place, like it's a different day and we've talked about it, etc. Seth has 3 roommates, and his room is probably the smallest. So we shoot in his roommate Kate's room, with his sheets, though. The next part is outside, which was sketchy, because he has neighbors. And it ended in his living room. This particular episode focussed on Andrew's inability to be in a committed relationship for any length of time. While he normally photographs naked girls, this episode was supposed to focus on couples, and how they managed to "keep it real" and "stay in love." Throughout the day, more than being photographed or filmed, we were asked questions about our relationship. Pretty ironic for 2 people who are probably still together because of their very lack of relationship-communication ;p. The Central Park part and the very end, which was us clothed doing an interview, were not photographed, they were just for Playboy. Those were the hardest parts for me. I can be an incredibly good liar, due to my dead pan delivery, when I WANT to be. But when it comes to being asked to lie, I falter. I have a hard time letting go of my identity, my personality. So this shoot, which was "heightened reality", was harder than real acting. There was no script, it was us, just the playboy version of us...married, younger, and able to afford living in Tribeca just on income from being performing musicans! hahahaha! *wipes tears of incredulous laughter away* Another thing that was staged was this part at the end of the living room shoot. Andrew feels hot all of a sudden, the walls are closing in, etc. In other words, all the relationship talk was making him claustrophobic. He has to lie down, and we get him a glass of water. In the final interview, conducted by the producer, the questions revolved around being in love, Andrew's situation, and our experience that day. Seth and I had enjoyed posing naked, no doubt. But more than sexy nudists, we're smart, verbose, and nerdy. So that the interview was more of a show-off for us than getting naked. We spoke freely and thoughtfully, until the producer, Ross, would ask questions like "What did you think when Andrew had to lie down?" We both stared at the camera for a good 60 seconds, silently, because that whole situation was so staged, we couldn't give a real answer! But at the end of the day, we got $500 apiece. We've already received a few photographs, which I'd be happy to share if anyone wants to see them. We'll be in Andrew's next book, due out in about a year, and the air time for this episode will be probably sometime in February. We're getting the DVD of it. Here's a photograph that's safe for work: And yes...my mother knows what I'm doing. And she said, and I quote, "I'm so proud of you! You've gotten rid of sexual hang-ups that I STILL have!" Ewww, daylight...I'll make the rest of this quick, I swear.. Saturday: My fried Aaron works at a club in the West Village, which hosts MisShapes, some gay hipster party. I never would have gone, except that he got me in for free, and I drank for free. Also, Ashlee and Jessica Simpson were in attendance and very visible to me, which sadly, was the highlight of my night. I had bought some coke earlier in the night from a guy who brought his girlfriend along to my place, who smelled up my bathroom, no lie. Anyhoo, I drank free beer, till almost 4 a.m., at which time I was harassed by a tall blonde "stylist" from the Midwest. The drugs and drinking, and the fact that he partied, coerced me to hang out with him after hours, and we proceeded to tour the Hudson, one darkened doorway at a time, doing bumps. He was soooooo not my ideal anything, despite being very cute in a Justin Timberlake kind of way, it was entertaining to hang out with him. Next thing I know we're making out, and buying booze at a bodega at 6 a.m. In non-New Orleans world, doing this on a Sunday morning is a crime of some sort. Which is how I ended up being charged $17 for 2 24-oz. Coronas. The corrupt cashier threw in a couple of to-go coffee cups. I invited Elton back to my place. No, I had no plans to get in on. I just thought he was interesting, in an ordinary kind of way. He also had his own drugz, which was a plus. So we continue to drink and snort, until he offers his ass-eating services. I declined, giving my bean-heavy dietary history as an excuse, and told him to sleep it off. We made out for a bit, but we eventually passed out around 10 a.m. till around 2 p.m., without removal of clothes or sexual touching at all. Sunday: Seth invited me to his place for a BBQ. I was still feeling the effects of the night before, so when I got there at 9 p.m., and he told me that he had a headache and wanted to lie down for an hour, I was more than happy to join him. There were a few people downstairs, doing lines and drinking, but I had no interest in that for once. Little did we know what shit was about to go down 3 hours later. We woke up around 2:30, noticed that everyone from the party had disappeared, and that there was a white van labelled "Body Examiner" in front of his house. We peered out the window and saw 2 dudes wearing latex gloves bend down and pick up a a dead body, right in front of his door. NYPD was all around, gathering up caution tape that had apparently been stretched around Seth's place and his neighbors'. We asked his roommate in the room next to his what had happened. And apparently we had slept through the cops knocking on the door in the midst of the partying a little before midnight, and asking everyone to look at the corpse for indentification purposes. It was no one anyone knew, by the by. The look on his roommate's face told us that it had been a fucked up, life-altering experience, not easily forgettable. The party had understandably disbanded after viewing the corpse. We had all known the area was rough, but to be the final resting place for someone was a new thing. It kept me up the rest of the night, thinking about the differences between city and country living. I always assumed that if I die when I'm old, it'll be from cancer, and if I'm young, it'll be a car wreck. I live in New York, and like any urban setting, the chances of being killed by another human being are pretty high, higher than by driving, since I don't drive up here. It could be over like that. We all try to be healthy...eat organic, jog, stay away from 2nd hand smoke. One day while running for our cardio health, someone could just drive by and shoot us. When it comes right down to it, all the technology and computers and surveillance and weapons can't keep us alive forever, they can't even tell us when our time will come. That guy who got stabbed in the gut...did he know when he got dressed that day that he would die in those clothes? Did he tell his girlfriend or wife or mother he loved them before going out for the night? Did he get stabbed there, or just drag himself as far as he could, in the hopes of getting medical attention? Needless to say, my days of going to Bed-Stuy after dark are probably over. Oh, to really be married in TriBeCa! Oh, and the Crocodile Hunter died. Coincidence? I think not. Current Mood: awake Current Music: Big Mama Thornton - "Hound Dog" (5 converts | Can I get a witness?)
Friday, August 11th, 2006
5:29 pm	(1 convert | Can I get a witness?)
Wednesday, August 2nd, 2006
2:07 pm	Poop and circumstance. Damn, how sad. Even my mom is getting hit on via nashville.craigslist.org She told me about this, and I looked it up today to see if it was still there. I know I haven't been posting. And I have alot of stories from the past 2 months or so, stretching from New York to San Francisco. I just haven't had the motivation. Since graduation, I don't want to do anything, let alone look for a job. I've been seeing someone for almost 6 months. That's just scary. I am, however, using myspace more than ever. Hit me up on that: ME (3 converts | Can I get a witness?)
Sunday, May 14th, 2006
7:33 pm	You Passed the US Citizenship Test Congratulations - you got 9 out of 10 correct! Could You Pass the US Citizenship Test? But I didn't cheat, so I'm not a true American. Current Mood: sleepy (2 converts | Can I get a witness?)
Wednesday, April 12th, 2006
2:37 pm	I requested a can of pink spray paint, just for you. I'm lazy. And you've probably noticed, all my image links are busted. The image hoster I've been using for about 2 years shut down all free accounts a few months. I managed to save my shit on a Loyola computer during Mardi Gras (slightly random, yes). Speaking of...Brooke and Sandra...I was down there 2 weeks later for my spring break! I only had a few days, and I dind't get a chance to call you guys, but yeah, after mardi Gras, I went back down from like the 15th-19th or something hahahaaha. I have my final recital coming up in 2 1/2 weeks...Blarg, more about that later. I'm stealing Christy's meme here. Oh, but as a sort of update...I went to a jazz recital over the weekend, then I partied with the jazz dudes at an apartment in the LES. I kept trying to pee in their closet. I swear, it looks like a bathroom, I was so high. 1.EVER BEEN GIVEN AN ENGAGEMENT RING? Sort of. It was made of paper, given to me by an ex long ago. 2. LONGEST RELATIONSHIP? See previous...almost 2 1/2 years 3. LAST GIFT YOU RECEIVED? discounted beer and whiskey last night at Niagara, from Joe, if that counts 4. EVER DROPPED A CELL PHONE? Only every day...once in a swimming pool 5. WHEN'S THE LAST TIME YOU WORKED OUT? I live on the 4th floor of a walk-up, every day is a workout 6. THING(S) YOU SPEND A LOT OF MONEY ON? Rent, basically. 7. LAST FOOD YOU ATE? Some macrobiotic meal thing...spinach noodles, carrots, seaweed, with a weird sauce 8. FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX! Their bulge...no really. 9. ONE FAVORITE SONG? "Satisfied" Andrew Bird 10. WHERE DO YOU LIVE? Manhattan, but mentally still in New Orleans 11. HIGH SCHOOL YOU ATTENDED: Pearl-Cohn Arts Magnet, then Hillsboro...Nashville, TN 12. CELL PHONE SERVICE PROVIDER: AT&T till they were bought out by Cingular 13. FAVORITE MALL STORE(S): Eww. Dippin Dots?? 14.LONGEST JOB YOU HAD: I guess being a student, various work-study positions, etc. "Real" work (cough, splutter), the J. Edgar and Louise S. Monroe Library at Loyola University New Orleans, almost 2 years. 15. DO YOU OWN A PAIR OF DICE? I guess I have a few. 16. DO YOU PRANK CALL PEOPLE?: Hell yes, not in about 3 years, though 17. LAST WEDDING YOU ATTENDED: My BFF's las June...I was de Matron o' Honor 18. FIRST FRIEND YOU'D CALL IF YOU WON THE LOTTERY: Mein Mutter 19. LAST TIME YOU SAW YOUR BEST FRIEND: Hmm, a few months ago, maybe less, can't remember...I went up to New Haven to visit. 20. FAVORITE FAST FOOD RESTAURANT? Paquitos 21. BIGGEST LIE YOU HAVE HEARD? Ummm. I don't get this question. And no, that's not my answer. 22. IMMEDIATE VACATION SPOT? Anywhere hot and humid with NO PEOPLE. 23. WHERE'S YOUR FAVORITE PLACE TO EAT WITH FRIENDS? Mary Ann's Mexican Restaurant..."it's like a party waiting to happen" (Vegetarian Guide to New York, 2003) 24. CAN YOU COOK? Yes, actually, I'm just usually too hungry to wait for food to be ready. But I've been cooking more lately, I have mad groceries, yo. 25. WHAT CAR DO YOU DRIVE?: Sven, the 1986 Volvo 240 GL 26. BEST KISSER?: I can think of a few... 27. LAST TIME YOU CRIED?: In the dream I had early this morning, just before waking up...it had to do with moving to suburbia, and the time changing all over the place...and not being able to pay for parking, or some shit. 28. MOST DISLIKED FOOD: Anything wrinkled, i.e. peas, raisins, etc. 29. THING YOU LIKE MOST ABOUT YOURSELF: My ass. Oh, you meant something having more to do with substance and true essence...my ass. 30. THING YOU DISLIKE MOST ABOUT YOURSELF: Failing eyesight? 32. LONGEST SHIFT YOU HAVE WORKED AT A JOB?: When I used to work 2 full-time jobs, as a bartender and a librarian, it basically was 1 17-hour shift every day, for a month and a half. 33. FAVORITE MOVIE: Hmmm, Clockwork Orange, maybe. 34. CAN YOU SING? I'm a music student, it's required. 35. LAST CONCERT ATTENDED?: Jazz bass recital over the weekend given by an NYU jazz senior dude. Last "real" concert was The Books at the BOwery, a few weeks ago. 36. LAST KISS?: 5 or 6 hours ago, I dunno, I was half asleep, hehheh. 37. LAST MOVIE RENTED: God that's been months. Well, I still have a movie a dude loaned me a few months ago, that may be rental actually. "Nashville." I suppose I should get that back to him. 38. ONE THING YOU NEVER LEAVE THE HOUSE WITHOUT: Yeah, I'd say keys there, and shoes. 39. FAVORITE VACATION SPOT?: Busch Gardens, any beach. 43. LAPTOP OR DESKTOP COMPUTER?: laptop 44. FAVORITE COMEDIAN?: Mitch Hedburg...think I'll agree with you there, Christy. But we can't forget my man Bob Newhart 45. DO YOU SMOKE? Yes. 46. SLEEP WITH OR WITHOUT CLOTHES? Usually without, unless I pass out before changing. 47. WHO SLEEPS WITH YOU EVERY NIGHT?: My E.T...and a certain human 4 -5 nights a week. 48. DO LONG DISTANCE RELATIONSHIPS WORK?: Who knows, what's the point. 49. HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU BEEN PULLED OVER BY THE POLICE? Twice. 50. PANCAKES OR FRENCH TOAST? Pancakes, but really neither. 51. DO YOU LIKE COFFEE? Not really, but I drink alot of it. 52 HOW DO YOU LIKE YOUR EGGS? My own special scrambling, with turmeric and rosemary. 53. DO YOU BELIEVE IN ASTROLOGY?: I wou;dn't say believe, but alot of things make sense. 54. LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?: Seth, the Jewish hippie band geek, at 2:53 a.m. 55. LAST PERSON ON YOUR MISSED CALL LIST?: My mom, yesterday. 56. WHAT WAS THE LAST TEXT MESSAGE YOU RECIEVED?: Ellie the fucking best: But i hate pussy?! 4:06 a.m. 58. NUMBER OF PILLOWS?: 4 or more. 59. WHAT ARE YOU WEARING RIGHT NOW?: Light blue fake Uggs (tall), black flowered skirt with beige lace crap (knee length), sleeveless black top with a square neck and raw seams. 60. PICK A LYRIC, ANY LYRIC OR SONG? "As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death/I take a look at my life and realize there's nothing left." --"Gangsta's Paradise", Coolio 61. WHAT KIND OF JELLY DO YOU LIKE ON YOUR PB & J SANDWICH?: Grape or strawberry...but if I had my druthers, blackberry preserves, mmmm. 62. CAN YOU PLAY POOL? Sometimes astoundingly well, but usually embarassingly bad. 63. CAN YOU SWIM? Not very gracefully, but I don't sink. In fact, I can't swim underwater at all. I'm also a master water-treader. 64. FAVORITE ICE CREAM?: Don't really like that shit, my teeth/gums are too sensitve. I like strawberry yogurt with vanilla granola and fresh berries, if that counts. 65. DO YOU LIKE MAPS?: Especially the MTA map on the inside of my apartment door. 66. TELL ME A RANDOM FACT ABOUT YOURSELF: My skin looks bad in natural light...luckily, I don't hang out outdoors that much. 68. EVER ATTEND A THEME PARTY?: Unfortunately. 69. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SEASON?: Late summer/early fall. 70. LAST TIME YOU LAUGHED AT SOMETHING STUPID? The fucktard at the bar last night who asked me if I taught ESL. 71. WHAT TIME DID YOU WAKE UP THIS MORNING? I attempted to wak up at 8 a.m., but, due to drinking last night, could only manage a little before noon. 72. BEST THING ABOUT WINTER?: It's only 3 months. 73. LAST TIME A COP GAVE YOU A TICKET?: A few years, but I have a lot of parking tickets. 75. NAME OF YOUR FIRST PET?: Tweety, a parakeet (surprise) 76. DO YOU THINK PIRATES ARE COOL OR OVERRATED?: Pretty cool, but not in the Disney sense. 77. WHAT ARE YOU DOING THIS WEEKEND?? Playing a BITCHEN SOLO on Christy's recital. 78. BIRTHDATE: 07/07.... 79. WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE: Me, but gradually getting older. 85. ARE YOU ON A LAPTOP? No. 87. ARE YOU SMILING?: Ha 88. DO YOU HAVE ON EYELINER?: Black eyeshadow-y stuff, I line the inside of my upper lids with it. 89. DO YOU MISS SOMEONE RIGHT NOW? I reckon. 90. IF YOU COULD GO ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD WHERE WOULD YOU GO? Greece. 92. ARE YOU IN HIGH SCHOOL?: Gay. 93. DO YOU HAVE A CRUSH?: On several people. 94. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE NAME? Stupid question, arrrrrrr. 95. WHAT COLOR IS YOUR BATHING SUIT?: Black, naturally. 96. DOES YOUR SCHOOL START IN AUGUST? I'm done with school, in about a month, hoss. 97. DID YOU GO ON VACATION LAST MONTH?: Yes, Spring Break 2006 New Orleans woooooo! 98. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ON A CRUISE?: No. 99. DO YOU HAVE A SISTER? No, nor a brother. 100. ARE YOU UPSTAIRS? basement, actually 101. ARE YOU IN LOVE? Nah. 102. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN THE HOSPITAL? Yes, the kind with plate glass, if you get my drift. 103. DO YOU WISH YOU COULD SEE ANYONE PARTICULAR RIGHT NOW? I reckon. 104. WHAT JEWELRY ARE YOU WEARING? Ear/cartialge rings, labret ring, septum ring, tongue rings, navel ring...and a ring on my R.H. 4 that has been stuck on my finger since I was 12. 105. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO AFTER THIS SURVEY? Urinate. Current Mood: tired. (5 converts | Can I get a witness?)
Saturday, April 1st, 2006
10:51 am	APRIL FOOL'S....GO BACK TO THE MIDWEST FARMLAND, AND GROW SOME BRAINS! IT'S A REAL CASH CROP! If you haven't seen my myspace page, disregard this post! (3 converts | Can I get a witness?)
Wednesday, February 15th, 2006
1:16 pm	(3 converts | Can I get a witness?)
Sunday, February 12th, 2006
10:42 pm	It's a military open mic night! Subject from Friday night's show at the Knitting Factory...the Trachtenberg Family Slideshow Players. I know, I haven't updated a while. Nothing very interesting to report hmmm...I have a shitload of students this semester, but not as many hours because the little pricks are mostly taking half-hour lessons. So, more work, more faces/names to remember, about 25 a week to be exact, but not more money. Blarg. This is also that magical last semester wherein I receive my Master of Arts, and, ostensibly, merrily skip off down the long golden road to success. This is too stressful to think about, so how about a stupid meme, eh? [The rest of the entry has been rated Rish, by moi.] Five sexy pleasures, stolen from katherinemorrow 1. Sex wearing nothing but tall boots. --Sometimes a short skirt with the boots is nice as well, especially for lap-straddling-on-a-chair sex but let's keep it simple. Besides, those damn boots take forever to unlace, by the time the guy gets done, I'll most likely hate him. 2. Nipple fondling, various. --I don't like hard biting, but a small amount, in combination with mostly sucking, is not only very pleasurable, but probably also too much information for you people. 3. Having my ass grabbed. --Sex or not. I mean, it's such a nice ass! But during sex I must have a hand on my ass cheek, preferrably my partner's, and preferrably my left cheek. 4. Extremely slow sex. NOT mechanical. I had a partner who, when I would say I wasn't in the mood, liked to beg, "Please, I'll just put it in, that's all!" I almost always gave in, and this would always turn into sex, that started almost imperceptibly slow, and innocent, and would become almost bed-breaking. He caould always get me with that one, and we both knew it. 5. Photography/videotaping are ALLOWED! --Is this weird? I think I have nudie pictures of everyone I've slept with. I like photographing us during sex. If it's mechanically possible, video with sound is good. No faces, just where the bodies meet. Oh god, this is turning me on right now hahahaha. Ok, you all is tagged, especially you, katchan! Whoo! Ok, next topic. In reference to #4 up there...if any of you fine people happen to score a February issue of Glamour, yours truly is featured on I think p.154. Please don't ask me who the guy is in the picture, at least not in a pulic forum, such as this. Suffice it to say, this picture could be very damning if it were to get around to the wrong people. But I had to share, as it is a damn cute picture. Oh, I will be in NOLA for Mardi Gras!!!!! I get there Saturday the 25th, and stay till the following Thursday. So peasantlass, you know what this means, right? Eye raping for YOU! I'll be sure to wear a skirt with an elastic waistband. Count me into any parade fun that's happening after about 3 p.m. on the 25th. "SUCKY SUCKY!...oh shit, we're at a red light, roll up the windows!!" I will leave you all with a snippet from a recent AIM conversation with my mutant friend Mikey. And mind you, this is just a snippet! (16:33:25) painsteak1: i will destroy you (16:33:35) painsteak1: i mean, lol, what are you doing today? (16:33:48) MikeyFreedomHart: ROFLMAO just hanging out and watching some brutal porn (16:34:20) painsteak1: ah very nice. fine family fun. i watched deliverance last night. it had a little brutal porn (16:34:27) MikeyFreedomHart: haha (16:35:20) MikeyFreedomHart: that's exactly the kind of porn i'm watching (16:37:04) painsteak1: toothless butt rape. i understand. i had a hard time not whacking off while watching it (16:37:24) MikeyFreedomHart: it's not as hot as buttless tooth rape (16:38:47) painsteak1: so, so, true. wow, i was on the phone as i typed that, and didnt realize it was typing "so, so rape" (16:38:58) MikeyFreedomHart: hahaha (16:39:24) painsteak1: "omg that guy is, like, SO rape, it's like, not even funny" (16:39:46) MikeyFreedomHart: you talking about grandpa? (16:40:01) painsteak1: grandpa is the new black Current Mood: snowy Current Music: "Please Warm my Weiner: Old Time Hokum Blues" (4 converts | Can I get a witness?)
Wednesday, January 4th, 2006
7:35 pm	Rock n Roll Cleveland! I finally found it...an open coffee shop with WiFi! I'm at the Rue on Oak St. and Carrollton. Apparently, WTUL is now broadcasting from here, in the little upstairs balcony. Underneath which hangs a bannder reading "Rebuilding New Orleans, One Party at a Time." Yessiree, New Orleans isn't nearly as devastated as I thought it would be, in most areas, but little things like 24 hour grocery stores, drug stores, coffee shops open past 5, etc., are a hot commodity. In my professional opinion, if I had never been to New Orleans before, and I didn't stray from the Quarter/Marigny/Uptown/Riverbend/Metairie area, I probably wouldn't know a Category 5 had been through. There is nowhere to park in the Quarter, and there are stll 24 hour bars. But I know better, I know that each bar should have more than 2 people in it, that there should be large number of choices for late-night dining, that 4 way stops are NOT the norm, and that City Park should have a lot more trees. On a scale of one to ten, with one being completely leveled ghost-town type of situation, and ten being exactly as I remembered it, I give the entire city, or at least what I've seen, about a 4.5-5.5. Keep in mind I've seen New Orleans East, Mid-City, Lakeview, part of Gentilly and the 9th Ward, and all the places that didn't get much damage. It seems like every single city block I've seen has at least 1 sign of something fucked up that befell this city. Whether a collapsed house, the spraypaint tags, an MP truck, downed street/traffic lights, uprooted trees, the ubiquitous piles of refrigerators and other discarded household items, or just the silent streetcar rails. I will do a real update when I get my pictures developed. For one, I'm taking alot of pictures of the destruction, and for another, New Year's is kind of blurry, and the pictures will help to recount the night harhar. But just as a word of assurance to concerned readers...New Orleans will DEFINITELY be back. Maybe not next year, or in 5 years, but even since I've been here I've seen progress. For instance, there are like 5 working traffic lights in the city, meaning 4 way stops everywhere, even really busy intersections. Most of the ones on Canal around the Quarter seemed to be working, except for the one at the intersecion of Peters and Canal. The first night I got in, it definitely wasn't working. But now, as of at least yesterday, the lights are now on! I know, it seems like a small step, but that's what it takes, and just seeing all the FEMA camps, people cleaning out their houses, Entergy people working on lines, etc., gives me an indescribably satisfying feeling, that people are NOT just going to sit on their asses and let my home rot in mold-infested squalor. But yesterday, I did come across a thoroughly disturbing sight. I was crusing the Fly, which still looks great. I saw a Military Police vehicle parked under a tree. I didn't think much of it, honestly, I've seen a ton of those MP trucks and the MPs themselves since I got in. So I kept cruising, and saw 2 MP's walking towards me, in the direction of the truck. They were leisurely strolling, I guess off duty, despite being in uniform. One was even smoking a cigarette. Only when they were illuminated from behind with the setting sun on the Mississippi did I notice the assault rifles they both carried over their shoulders. In the middle of the fucking day, like 75 degrees beautiful weather, around kids playing frisbee and people walking dogs, and couples making out on the river. Two MPs carrying assault rifles. *Sigh* I really almost cried. I had to call my best friend to calm down. It was like some shove back into the reality of this city's recent past. As I did that though, my spirits lifted when I saw that the Tree of Life is still standing! A few pruned branches, but goddammit, that big ass tree is still here! I walked underneath it, as two hippies walked out from behind, trailing the sweet smell of marijuana behind them. And I keep reliving all the shit I talked about this city in the last couple of years I lived here. I know we all did it, it was the love-hate nature of the city that keeps us coming back, if ever leave in the first place. And I take back every word with every destroyed house I see, black water marks ten or more feet high, flourescent pink spraypaint tags reading "Attic Exit." Current Mood: post-apocalyptic Current Music: WTUL (2 converts | Can I get a witness?)
Thursday, December 8th, 2005
5:02 pm	Why I love eBay. Auction for a dead beat dad: At first I thought the dad himself was for sale. But he looks a little big for a stocking stuffer. Coincidentally, he's shown here next to a Christmas tree. Here's the URl: dad=pig It would be awesome if the proceeds from the sale went towards the purchase of a photo of a new and improved dad but, judging from her other items for sale, she would just spend it on Tommy Hilfiger cologne sets and X-mas themed socks. In other eBay news, I lost my prosthetic eye auction ;( Archie Bunker (to Sammy Davis Jr.): "Do you take cream and sugar in your eye?" Current Mood: busy (2 converts | Can I get a witness?)
Friday, December 2nd, 2005
3:29 pm	I am your voodoo doll. the ten things you can't say 1) List ten things you want to say to people but know you never will. 2) Don't say who they are. 3) Never discuss it again. Hmmm, all different people? Let's see... 1) I wish only incurable diseases on you, and every loose-lipped braindead whore you bring to your bed, you bleeding heart Robin Hood-wannabe self-righteous middle-class cracker. I let you get away with more than anyone in my life. You never "found" me. I was never lost. I rue the day I first spread my legs for you. My deepest condolences to #11. 2) Anyone who believes "it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all" is a fucking moron, and basically, I should never have indulged your fantasy. I wish I'd never gotten involved. 3) The fact that you live vicariously through me does not inspire me, but rather, makes me wish I'd never been born. 4) Why did you only surround yourself with dopey people? Are you that insecure that you can't be around someone with half a brain? 5) I hope you're getting ass-raped as I type this. 6) You're obviously a person of very low quality. You deserve each other. 7) I pretend I can relate to you, though you never even offer me that much. 8) Sometimes, I'm not kidding when I flirt. Shhh! 9) I'm really sick of feeling like I have to prove myself to you. Most people think I'm a decent friend, so what gives. It's getting a little ridiculous, and just say the word and poof! I can disappear too. I really don't think I ask for much, but maybe it's time I started. 10) I wish I could see just YOU more, not the two of you. I understand it's a package-deal now, but I feel somehow simulataneously left behind in childhood, and well past my prime. Come to think of it, I think I could say all those things to 1 person bwahahaha. Going to see Iron & Wine with Calexico Tuesday night. Should be good, plus the venue is like 2 blocks from my apartment. I skipped my jazz piano lesson last night...what did I to in its stead? I spent $80 at Tower (new Andrew Bird, Calexico, Low, Golden Palominos, and new Fiery Furnaces), then stuffed myself full of Mexican food, then took a nap. I've been pretty slack this week. Is it the drugs? The rock and roll? The (lack of) sex? The last is my fault, I suppose. I've officially broken up with the 19 year old. After all of 4 days being back together. Details not forthcoming, unlike your mother's twat. Oh, and hadara told me I had to write about getting high with a hot Spanish pianist at my apartment last night after rehearsal, and being forced to watch some DVD of flamenco, while he clapped and stomped his feet on the floor in rhythm. My poor downstairs neighbbors. I can see it now: all Thursdays in their calendar have a note reading "11 p.m., Flamenco Night in 12F." Current Mood: fucking lousy Current Music: Your mother's twat coming forth (5 converts | Can I get a witness?)
Thursday, November 3rd, 2005
12:08 am	Of hermits and teenagers. I've been remiss in my LJ duties, I know. Since Katrina, nothing has really seemed very important in mine, or anyone else's lives. It still hurts to think about but I've been trying to go on. I haven't seen anyone lately. I don't know, I feel ditched by about a dozen people. I know I've been pretty busy, and haven't done the greatest job of keeping the lines of communication open myself, but fuck: I teach 20 students per week, plus full-time school, plus 12-13 hours a week of work-study, plus practicing for not only my regular weekly piano lesson but also some new jazz classes and lessons I'm taking. Yeah, it's weird to live in NOLA for 6 years, only to learn about jazz in NYC. So maybe these people are just as busy, which is great. I still find it odd though. I don't particularly like New York City. But one thing's for damn sure: it certainly teaches you about self-reliance. If this city were a breakfast food, it would be an overpriced bowl of 7 million corn flakes. But I'm by no means lonely. If by "not lonely" one can mean dating/corrupting/deflowering/etc., a 19 year old. What can I say? Desertion will drive a girl to the extremes of social decency. I suppose he's why I haven't been going out much lately, since he can't get into most bars, heehee. Many random updates. I have a new "haircut", of sorts. I own and operate a skateboard now. I've heard some great live music, including another live Philip Glass deal. I changed piano teachers, before realizing I had been assigned to my old piano teacher for chamber ensemble this semester, so lots of awkwardness there. I went to a graduation ceremony entirely in sign language. I've been to a mall in Queens, which made me clinically insane. I hosted a NOLA refugee and good friend for a few weeks, blahdee blah. Oh, and I have a kidney infection. Not too good. I felt a bladder infection coming on Halloween night, but I knew that I had no time to see a doctor on Tuesday, because I teach all fucking day, plus I have my own piano lesson. So I tried to stave it off with gallons of water and cranberry juice, only to awaken in the middle of Tuesday night feeling like my lower back and abdomen were going up in flames. So, after a fun-filled trip to the doctor, I found out I had a fever, high blood presure, and "lots of blood and pus" in my urine. Great. Especially when the doctor, Happy Benson was her name, told me that it could potentially lead to permanent kidney failure. I got some antibiotics, and I feel a little better, but my back is still killing me. I feel like I've been run over, and I still have chills. For maybe the second time since I've been here, I cancelled work tomorrow. I still have to teach, have my jazz lesson, and trio rehearsal, but I figured I could at least do without 5 hours at the library. My 19 year old has been quite great through all of this, even sat with me at the waiting room, though I was there about an hour total. The lesson to be learned: No afterglow is worth basking in, if it's just gonna get you a gorilla's kidney in the long run. Current Mood: ill Current Music: Iron and Wine - "Our Endless Numbered Days" (4 converts | Can I get a witness?)
Wednesday, August 31st, 2005
11:59 am	So much for trying to fit in here. *Before we begin what is sure to be a very venomous post, I just want to say that my thoughts and lame attempts at prayer are with peasantlass, sparkfire20, corzyn, katchan, katnip21, weltall, musesick, michelia, ravencreature, and of course all us NOLA expats: Weston, Chris, Christy, Emily and Katie with our displaced loved ones and displaced sense of "home". (I was too lazy to do more code, sorry). If there's anything I can do, don't hesistate to call or email or text or send smoke signals or ANYTHING. I'm in serious debt with some recent bad additions to my credit that's keeping me from getting another school loan I need, but I'll be DAMNED if NYU OR my landlord get my money/resources if you guys need it more. My problems are bullshit, just bullshit in this grand scheme. I'm thinking of trying to get an extension for my rent just to make sure I can help out a little. At the least, let me know you're alive (haven't heard from Shercole, Brooke, Amelia, or Justin, Damian...hell, I'm even worried about Greg and his family so you KNOW I'm losing it)* Onward. I feel like I'm stuck in a 4 day long nightmare. I've slept about 12 hours since Saturday night. I've barely eaten, only a bite or 2 of something a day to take my vitamins. The body is supposedly like the world, 75 percent water. I feel like now my brain is emulating New Orleans, and is drowning. I've literally felt since all this shit went down like I'm moving underwater. It's an in-body, out-of-state experience. And I don't even live there anymore! I can't BEGIN to imagine what my friends down there are going through. The uncertainty, the loss of everything, jobless, wondering about people who stayed behind, not even having a working phone. Not knowing if our city will ever...resurface. I remember a year ago being so worried about Ivan, because I couldn't imagine having so many memories tied up in a city that may no longer exist. But now, it's happening, and I feel so helpless stuck here 1200 miles away, going through a sort of existential angst. And speaking of that...I'm ready to vomit at some of the attitudes I've seen up here, expressed in the smug faces of 8 million assholes who, for the most part, only know of a disaster when they can't get skim milk in their fucking lattes at Starbucks. People have surmised that perhaps this is "God's wrath," "Sodom and Gomorrah," or the just desserts of those "stupid people" who didn't evacuate. To that, and to them I say: "You're fucking ignorant if you're going to judge an entire city by the 20% who stayed behind, mostly because they could not leave. You may not believe that outside your fair land of plenty are actual *gasp!* poor people, who can barely survive in the worst of times. It's a little more complicated than stepping out your Upper East Side brownstone and hailing a cab. IMAGINE HAVING TO NOW EVACUATE THE EVACUATION SHELTER. New Orleans is a broke-ass town, and it relies heavily on the fall to rescue the tourism industry which suffers in the summer, because of heat, crime, etc. You know the first part to flood, the Bywater? Say hello to New Orleans' projects, also known as the 9th ward. People who had so little to begin with now have NOTHING. How can you begin to compare that to 911??? How dare you ask me why I look so "somber." I didn't just lose possibly my REAL hometown, the place I wanted to return to someday and live out the rest of my days...I feel like I've lost even more than a friend or lover: I feel like I've lost a significant portion of myself, like having limbs amputated. My friends are now HOMELESS, assuming they're all even ALIVE. And sorry but not just those "lawless, lower-class black people" you're obviously so superior to in your fucking high-rises and designer shoes, but MILLIONS OF PEOPLE. You expect the whole goddamn world to celebrate anniversaries of an admittedly horrific disaster, yet can't see the gravity of a situation involving lives lost, jobs lost, ENTIRE FUCKING CITIES LOST. You think if anything happens somewhere besides fucking Wall Street it's not important." /rage Sunday night I was on the phone with one of my closest friends, Michael. He stayed behind in Mid-City because, like many people, he didn't think the storm would hit until too late, and he has no car. We kept getting disconnected, it was getting very nerve-wracking because looters showed up, and I could hear them banging on windows and doors trying to get in. The phone cut off for the the last time about 1 a.m. I've called back hundreds of times, but no answer. Mid-City was where the first breach occurred. I heard on the NOLA community that he was seen sometime on Monday, but that was before the city began to sink. I'm numb. I have no interest in anything anymore. I don't want to be here. I don't even know if I want to be in a world WITHOUT New Orleans. I know, it's a bit premature to make such apocalyptic remarks, and I'm really trying hard to be optimistic. But I just don't care about anything anymore. I've probably lost my New Orleans, which I've always hazily envisioned as an anthropomorphized plump, sedate, temptress, cloaked in a rotting red velvet gown, who never says a word but smiles coyly at her many suitors. Why SHOULD she evacuate? She's lived satisfied, and she will die satisfied. But trying explaining that to a city, nation, and maybe a world of jerks who can't get off their high horse, high pulpit, high rise corporate position enough to see that the "little people", the bartenders and waiters and buggy drivers and psychics and underpaid teachers and chefs and artists and world-famous musicians scurrying for shelter on the roofs of their dilapidated shotgun houses might actually be more human than they could ever HOPE to be, yet with only their inate animal instinct to survive, intact. New Orleans: Just take care of yourself and your citizens right now. We will defend you to the above-ground grave. Current Mood: very, very tense (14 converts | Can I get a witness?)
Sunday, August 28th, 2005
8:40 pm	Goddamnit Katrina! Jesus Christ. I was planning on visiting NOLA in about a month and half. I wonder if it will still be there? I will really, really miss New Orleans. Why can't hurricanes hit the Midwest? Current Mood: depressed (4 converts | Can I get a witness?)
Saturday, August 27th, 2005
8:24 pm	I can't update too much, as I'm paying for the use of this computer at an overly-crowded coffee shop. But, to those who are interested: yesterday, August 26th, was my 1st anniversary of being in New York City. How did I celebrate? Did I toast the skyline on my roof with champagne? Did I bask in the lights of Times Square? Sis I go to the Statue of Liberty? Hell, did I even get out of my pajamas and brush my teethu? The answer to all those questions, is No. I stayed in, got drunk on about 2 pints of blackberry brandy, watched about 6 hours of I Love Lucy then What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, stuffed my face all day long, didn't once step foot out my door. Now that I'm a New Yorker, I have to save my money for my exorbitant rent, after all. (2 converts | Can I get a witness?)
Friday, August 19th, 2005
3:45 pm	1. Go here. 2. Pass it on. ( my answers ) (2 converts | Can I get a witness?)
Tuesday, August 9th, 2005
6:05 pm	I just saw an old man help a blind man cross a street. The blind man thanked him, and continued safely on his way. The old man turned around and re-crossed the street alone, without realizing that the light had changed and cars were going. They honked, and ran to safety. This seemed like a metaphor. A certain Brooklynite who shall remain namelss must have done some violence on my face Sunday night/Monday morning. I have a short, faint gash above my right eye, plus a bruise and general eyelid-puffiness. Plus, that eye is bloodshot all to hell. But that last symptom of a U.D.I could have been due to all the coughing and hacking I've done. Beginning a journey tomorrow. Hopefully to sobriety. At least for a week. (1 convert | Can I get a witness?)
Friday, August 5th, 2005
3:35 pm	There are no Lesbianic undertones in this entry. Or brassieres. Last nihgt was teh RoXoRz. I saw DEAD MEADOW at the Knitting Factory. Beautiful, beautiful music. Rarely do I get goosebumps from "new" music (i.e., not Stravinsky). Listen to this band! They will make you wish you were rolling and making out with someone for hourrrrrrs. Or maybe that's just me. But I wonder...those guys in the band...what do they put on their stereo to woo their ladies??!! What could do the job more effectively than their own music? But it would be weird to make out with a guy while you listened to his CD. Wait, I think I've done that before....a few times actually (different guys). Hmmm, yeah it was gay. You can get away with saying ANYTHING to ANYONE if, and ONLY IF, your voice is so squeaky and raspy from being sick and having to shout over loud music, that you can't even use your "funny voices", you know, the ones I do? I'm stuck in Funny Voice Gear. I may never shift down. Current Mood: I threw up phlegm today. (2 converts | Can I get a witness?)
Thursday, August 4th, 2005
2:17 pm	"See the bartenders for more info" You should NOT NOT NOT go out and drink doubles of Canadian whiskey when you're sick with a fever of 100-101. It seemed like just the cure for my cabin fever, and it helped, but I think it took a few years off my life. 5 things I don't remember: 1. The last bar. I know the first was the Boxcar, but then...? 2. Did I pay? 3. I puked somewhere...where??? 4. I don't remember leaving-->getting home-->going to bed 5. Why was my brassiere in my backpack???? 5 weird things: 1. There is a temporary tattoo on my left hand 2. My clothes were in a pile right in front of my door when I woke up, except for my brassiere, which was still in my backpack. 3. I mysteriously woke up promptly at 11 a.m., but my phone alarm was set for 11 p.m. 4. I seem to become a Lesbian around my friend Ellie... 5. ...she just messaged me saying I left a bite mark on her neck, hmmmm 5 things for which I am thankful: 1. awesome female friends! 2. ukeleles! 3. Veruca Salt 4. Alka-Seltzer nose and throat medicine 5. Being in New York Current Mood: probably still drunk Current Music: my squeaky voice...I can barely talk! (3 converts | Can I get a witness?)
Monday, July 25th, 2005
4:32 pm	Ain't that a kick to the head/scrotum to the ass. Well it finally happened. I bought porn. It may surprise some people that this was a new thing for me, but yes, I'm not QUITE as subversive as I look. The thing is, I had been under the assumption for the last year that I *did* own porn, namely, one "Attack of the Cockface Killer", a NOLA-brand mix of gore, rednecks, drugs, heavy metal, bad tattoos, incest, toilet humor, bringing dead people back to life, and flatulent pets. And although the movie's opening scene was a young couple having sex in the barn (reminded me of katnip21's porn +barn experience), during which you can just barely hear, over the poor-sound-quality-induced buzzing, "You're a good piece of sister ass!" this brick in the long road of cinematic success stories was definitely not actual porn. At least according to my friend Ellie, and she knows. Ellie was also where I discovered a quick, cheap, painless way to purchase porn: Lily, the tiny Asian woman who hits every bar in the East Village/LES every night, and sells people $5 Marlboros, bootlegged CDs, and, as it turned out "DVD porn five dolla". Lily, bless her little illegal alien soul, showed up last night, as I was tying one on at the Odessa Lounge on Avenue A. I was talking with my bar-buddy Jack in a booth, and she walks in, saying "Cigarettes. CDs, DVDs, five dolla". Aha, this was to be the night. She had already walked away, and started her sales speech to the people sitting at the bar. I didn't know what to do. How not to sound desperate, dirty? I yelled, "DVD!" She didn't hear. I yelled again, and she turned around and smiled. "You want DVD?" I nodded. "Ok!" She started to untie the knot of a little black plastic bag she had on top of her little grocery cart out of which she peddled her wares every night. I thought my chances of social humiliation were pretty small now. I didn't even have to get up! I could sit in my cozy booth, sipping Anchor Steam, and be served porn. I relaxed too soon. "You want DVD movie? Or DVD porn?" Damn. "DVD porn," I stutteringly yelled across the bar. She brought a little stack of burned CDs in cellophane, each one with various stillshots decorating the wrapper, giving you glimpses of what you were buying, because, frankly, I used to work at Virgin, and I'm used to porn having very specific, graphic titles, like "Edward Penishands". But these, being the cheap garden variety brand of masturbation bait, had vague titles that basically were all different versions of "Men Like to Fuck Women. Maybe in the ass" Each one I picked up I would say the name aloud, to get a feel for its content. I was waiting for a gut reaction, you see, to tell me what to choose. Lily looked over my shoulder and occasionally echoed a title approvingly. Her English, I suspect, is mostly comprised of "5 dolla" Marlboro Reds" "DVD porn", and now I know, filthy titles of said porn. So we sounded like: "Ah yes, Latin Big Butts, this looks very well-made. Hmmm, oh and the Ghetto Booty sub-genre movie here, good to see it's so diverse, your collection." "Yes, yes, ghetto booty!" "Hmmm, I don't know Jack, these are all ass-related what do you think? Oh, wait, never mind, here's some girl-on-girl action. "Yes, yes, that's good one." I finally decided between one "Cumming of Age" type of movie, and something else, I forget, perhaps the Lesbian one. Finally, I decided that I liked the subtitle on the Cumming of Age: Young Girls Learn Hard Lessons. "Yes, Lily, I'm all for girls learning lessons, you know. I'll take this one." I gave her the money, and she left, and I was not struck down by God so damn my Southern Christian upbringing! I somehow coerced Jack and misterchurch back to my apartment after last call at 4:30 a.m. No, you dirty little fucks, that's NOT where this is going. But we had some beers, smoked my hookah, spilled things, and listened to Daniel Dale Johnston. Oh Chris, you left your sleeves at my apartment. Oh wait, you never had them. Hmmmm, you better put out an APB for them right away. Eventually my curiosity got the best of me and I put the purple burned DVD in my player, and was visusally-assaulted with borderline-retarded girls talking about how they were such good kids in high school, and they had never done anything like this before. It was quite low-budget, the set looked like the movie company's offices or something. The premise seemed to be: some girl would be in the middle of sticking one fake-fingernail tipped digit into her "hot little pussy", when lo and an behold, a man, totally nude, except wearing socks, would come in fuck her like the prized steed he was. This scene was repeated over and over again, between two different girls, int eh following order: masturbating leading to sex in many positions, old man sex, two man sex, blow jobs + money shots. Basically, you could tell what was coming up next by the color of the couch in that particular office room where the dirty deeds were taking place. They were also fond of spanking the girls while fucking them, and cumming in their faces. The "dialogue" was horrendous. "Yeah? Oh yeah? Yeah baby, I wanna cock in my pretty little pussy." etc etc. There were also a few interludes, thankfully very short, that I guess were of the "tease" variety. The girl would wave her cheerleading pom-poms around, say nothing, and mug the camera coyly. Or maybe just talk about how nice her cheap body spray smells, then spray it on her body and giggle. Those parts were so surreal, they reminded me of Teletubbies for some reason. "Let's see it again!" Maybe, because Teletubbies works for kids 0-2, in their sensory-motor stage, and it seems to move slow, because it's solidifying knowledge in the growing brain. Like these little comic reliefs in the porn, to just confirm the fact that you are, in fact, watching naked strangers have sex, so you can't really judge anything else in the movie, now can you. Honestly, the sound of scrotum repeatedly smack-smack-smacking the girl's ass while he fucked her like he was using a table saw, is still etched in my auditory memory Current Mood: I need to learn a hard lesson. Current Music: the sound of scrotum repeatedly smack-smack-smacking ass (3 converts | Can I get a witness?)