Saturday, September 27, 2008
The Lupus Pictures folks (they make good product) are looking for feedback from the fans. Seeing as I've estimated my fan base at about three-billion, yet have, like, two readers that leave comments, I understand their thirst for empathy. Oh how tragic is my life!
Anyway, it's kinda cool and "meta" that the spanking industry has gotten to the "Pepsi Challenge" stage of marketing. "What do you want in a film about spanking?" People, we are through the looking glass. I'm just saying.
On a personal note, I would like to personally note that I gave serious thought today to writing the next chapter of "Tessy Plinkerton Saves Proper", but then I got distracted by something shiney. It did shine... it shines still...
I am now depressed. I am going to go to a fancy eatery and order fancy food and drown myself in alcohol and confections. Tomorrow I am going to buy a shit load of Newman's Own salad dressing. I like the Light Italian myself.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
But I feel I should post something to appease my throng of fans. So here is a little thing I wrote some years ago. Am I proud of it? I can say only that I wrote it.
A Man I Met in a Steam Room
“My left eye got blown out by a booby trapped Libyan cigarette. I found the Libyan. Made him eat his arm to his elbow before putting a hammer to his brain again and again. My missing pinky? Kalashnikov, Korean border. Cut off his balls, but he got away with his life. I made the mistake of trusting U.N. Peacekeepers. Never again.
“Oh, I have scars alright. I’ve got a red line from my right pinky toe to my dick. Sudanese cut me with a blade made from melted down Italian WWII bullets. Buried him alive with his family watching. I say my right pinky toe because I lost my left to a baby Great White on vacation in
“Bus bomb exploded in
“Scars? I strangled a Nicaraguan with his own intestines, but the fucker bit a chunk off my neck. He was a wetback vampire, but he died alright without air to breath. You notice how my hair parts funny? Cuz a Turk tortured my head with lemon juice and straight razors. It’s okay, I got him back with acid and rusty nails.
“You might have noticed my missing left testicle?
“Scars? Let me tell you about scars. Got sent back to medieval
“My testicle still works, but I hate explaining the scars to the whores. Ruins the magic, you know?