Is There Life?

2016 April 9
by mockers

Might something be happening here? Do you have any interest in such a possibility?



Somebody Please Save Me From My Brain!

2013 July 15
by mockers

stupidbrainSo the song of the day yesterday was the Entertainment Tonight theme song. I briefly considered killing myself just to make it stop. Then I wondered who wrote it.  Then I wondered if the same person wrote all the theme songs for news magazine shows. You know, like the John Williams of shitty tabloid television.

Turns out the answer is no. The ET theme was written by Michael S. Mark.  Then I giggled briefly at the name Mikey Mark. Then I started thinking about the movie Citizen Kane and how the story was basically just tabloid television with a sled thrown in for the sake of art. I am a fan of depth of field technology advancement and it’s a solid picture and everything, but I think it’s safe to stop calling it the greatest movie of all time.  My vote goes to Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?

Then I started thinking about that movie and how every second of that thing is amazing. And how the music was amazing. And how the idea of adapting a circa 8th century BC epic poem into a depression era period piece is the kind of brilliance that I don’t think I am capable of. Then I started wondering why they included Robert Johnson.  It worked, but there was already so much going on…

Then I continued thinking about Robert Leroy Johnson.  Originally I was calling him Robert Wood Johnson in my head.  Turns out Robert Wood Johnson is a totally different guy.  Of course I knew that, but my brain was just messing with me. Stupid brain. Then I wondered, if a person knew that Robert Johnson had met the devil at the crossroads and traded his soul for guitar skills, could they listen to and enjoy his music without it being a sin? I don’t think they could.

Then I started thinking about how long it’s been since I’ve watched that movie. And how long it’s been since I listened to Robert Johnson. I wondered if either of those things would be as good today as they were when I was introduced to them.  Then I thought about the time I returned to my first public school, Southeast Elementary in Ankeny, Iowa as an adult. The classrooms and hallways used to be huge.  Now they are tiny.  Of course, back then I was like 36″ tall, now I am 6’1″.

I wondered if everything from my childhood was like that. Would scout camp be miniaturized? Would the enormous and scary P.E. teacher with the booming voice be midgetesque?  It was then that I had the scariest thought I have had for a very long time – What about Debi Odem’s breasts? Oh the humanity!

For yet another brief moment I considered embracing the suicide option to make my brain stop torturing me, then I realized why all this was happening.  See, I used to have a job that was so wide in its scope of responsibilities that it kept my mind occupied. Now that I do mindless labor for less than half the federal government’s definition of poverty, my stupid brain is free to meander about leisurely – reading obscure, long abandoned files about film classes I took 20 years ago and blues records I listened to 25 years ago. This might be a good thing.  I could uncover something important. I honestly doubt it though. Frankly, the feeling is uncomfortable and the thoughts are annoying.

Can someone do me a favor and free me from my brain by giving me a complicated job that pays above the poverty level? I would very much appreciate it, the kids would be very grateful because they could eat something other than ramen, the people around me would be thankful because they wouldn’t have to listen to me debate with myself about the contributions made to the world by Robert Wood Johnson vs the contributions made to the world by Robert Leroy Johnson and Debi Odem wouldn’t be so creeped out. I promise to show up to wherever this job is and work as hard as I can for you. It would be a win-win-win-win-win situation.  How about it?  Thanks in advance for your time, attention and kind consideration.

Penis Origami with Lakr

2013 February 4
by mockers

BeethovenFunny story.  There was a certain evening in SF where I met a gal at a pub, who was quite amorous, & we took the block and a half stroll to my place.

We tumbled on my bed, and after about 30 seconds of violent mashing she was safecracking my jeans, and once she dialed in the code, she went to town.

An epic BJ…slobbering with full hand action and twisting of the mouth on different angles. She knew her dicks, that was for sure. So of course after about a minute of this treatment, like any dude that doesn’t have a Van Nuys area code,  I blasted.  I was drunk, but wasn’t THAT drunk – she had just played Fur Elise on my beef whistle, and a standing ovation.

Now here I was, the buzz of many beers and an epic orgasm floating through me, and this gal is leering at me for more.  I knew I didn’t have another one in me, but I felt obligated to try. I pushed her over and diddled her for the required amount of time when I got the salute from LF Jr that we were good to go.  Message not received.

I had what I like to call a ‘medium bendable.’ We weren’t ready for action, but we were doing tired calisthenics.  She was no virgin, so she could receive a summer sausage if needed.

Bottom line, I folded my cock in half and jammed it into that slathery mess.  She moaned approval…so I kept at it. But as my boner unfolded, the sex became impossible.  When I put my half-mast self  into that canyon, there just wasn’t enough friction to keep Junior alive…that whore…totally her fault.

So she left unsatisfied – and I went into the living room and played PGA Tour Golf with my roommates and smoked bowls.