Rosanna Arquette - more details later

In Your Eyes - Peter Gabriel

Written for her at age 27 ...





Rosanna - Toto

Written for her at age 22 ... she was their 'Muse', or so the tele says ...



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosanna_Arquette - Wikipedia article


http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000275/ - IMDB page/screen credits

(Lyrics & opinion later ... )

Julian

Cubicle Zombies

I was feeling high last night; I made one billable sale last night at my job in the telemarketting offices here in town. Right now I am listening to 'The Great Gig in the Sky', and I am wondering what is keeping me from selling myself? I sold someone else's things, made them happy, and made my boss happy, but is that enough? Can't I be happy & satisfied? I mean in knowing that I have contributed to making the world a better place than it was before?

Does music nurture your soul? When I go to work, I listen to 88.3 FM for classical music, and when I come home, I pour out 97.7 ROCK or 99.5 KISS, expressing myself to unleash all I kept reigned in when I was at my job. I suddenly find myself driving faster, running my car harder, weaving between other cars, moving like a leopard on the hunt, dying to get home or to eat somewhere that I can sit & just 'feel' my own heartbeat. I can 'feel' my pulse, my needs, my drive and then wonder why I am not doing this JUST as the artist I am deep inside my own heart, questioning my personal motives or ideas.

I just need to do it, period.

Last week, I was in the cubicles, seeing where my future lay, wondering if this was all there was to my current incarnation of myself. I asked the girl manning the phone, "Do you like this job?"

"It's a good job", she replied softly, before returning to the robotic motions of her hands and computer, interacting and clicking and entering data. She had nothing else to say to me on the subject, nor any special thing to teach me about my future job or the sterile location or collection of assorted pseudo-professional people with headsets reacting to calls as if they were in "GlenGary GlennRoss", wheeling and dealing.

And that's when the hallucinations kicked in: suddenly, the office supervisor who gently patted me into the space next to the girl I chatted with was on the floor, being devoured by the monstrous members of the office pool, men & women of all ages & sizes rending him apart. People in cubicles has destroyed or ruined faces, limbs missing, bloodied clothing, and yet, they were answering phones, speaking with soft, dull growlings and grumblings, moaning and moving in a shambling mess of death and sadness. Lights flickered, grue stained the walls and floor, machines were sparking or on fire, but still, the zombies did their office job without question. A cold bead ran down my spine, and I was shaking in my clothing, looking around, seeing them surrounding me quickly, but not moving to kill me. I think they embraced me, looking at poor heartbroken Jules as one of their own.

And that's not good in any way.

Art has not sold, things are given away, and I just don't care to be sad. And the bills need to be paid, such as rent, phone bill, satellite, car payment, and everything else necessary to get by before

THIS WEEK I did it myself, and I felt that I was unable but able, thinking to myself, 'If given a task or job, I can do it, no matter how dull or depressing.'

Then I realized that should not be my motiavtion: money. And yet, I've been on a centrifugal track always spinning in a path away from authority, toward destruction, and hapless and divided. I am always going without a path, letting my feelings run the show, being more unable to make myself work or want to work within the confines of the madness of this life, this masquearede of sobriety, of sense, of delight or desire.

I do NOT want to be a cubcile zombie.

Now I am not the only one fearing this idea. I thought there would be no basis so I put it into a 'Google' search and there were the images & ideas! BAM! Now I know it's not just me, so I am rational in having bought a copy of "The Zombie Survival Guide" this weekend at Waldenbooks Sunday after church. So I MUST make a greater effort by going to the art store, grabbing some supplies, and working harder than before on my art & fears and creating something viable.

Without it I am doomed and damned.

Adios for now,




Julian

http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/centrifugal

http://www.supertouchart.com/2007/10/31/nycsneek-peeksupertouch-halloween-show-tonite/ - see all art

http://www.worth1000.com/contest.asp?contest_id=17134&display=photoshop

http://cubiclezombie.com/ - future art & card business

http://weirdweirdworld.com/browse/show/1216

http://www.randomhouse.com/crown/zombiesurvivalguide/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Zombie_Survival_Guide

Addicted by Saving Abel

I like this song, period. Nothing more needs to be said on the subject.


Julian

Saving Abel - Addicted Lyrics

I'm so addicted to
all the things you do
when you're going down on me
in between the sheets
all the sounds you make
with every breath you take
its not like anything
when you're loving me

oh girl lets take it slow
so as for you well you know where to go
i want to take my love and hate you till the end

its not like you to turn away
from all the bullshit i cant take
its not like me to walk away

i'm so addicted too all the things
you do when you're going down on me
in between the sheets
all the sounds you make
with every breathe you take
its not like anything
when you're loving me

yeahh

i know it was getting rough
all the times we spend
when we try to make
this love something better than
just making love again

its not like you to turn away
all the bullshit i cant take
just when i think i can walk away,

i'm so addicted to all the things
you do when you're going down on me
in between the sheets
all the sounds you make
with every breathe
its not like anything

i'm so addicted to the things you do
when you're going down on me
all the sounds you make with every breath you take
its not like anything when you're loving me
yeahh
when you're loving me

i can not make it through
all the things you do
theres just got to be more than you and me

i'm so addicted too all the things you do
when you're going down on me
in between the sheets
all the sounds you make with every breath you take
its not like anything
its not like anything

i'm so addicted too
all the things you do
when you're going down

all the sounds you make with every breath
you take its not like anything
i'm so addicted to you
addicted to you

http://www.smartlyrics.com/Song634357-Saving-Abel-Addicted-lyrics.aspx

A Morning After Delight

I was that one for you wasn't I? The one naked with me, rolling in the sheets after a wanton night of passion, and exhausted. I felt you touching me, asking me for the same as the night before, and then feeling put off as I say "Not now ... I gotta take a piss.

... and that vulnerability leaves me open to your seduction.

As I stand emptying my bladder I hear the door creaking gently, and you slip down kneeing at my backside, peppering kisses on my buttocks and spine, caressing the flesh kneading exciting me with your touch. A gasp turns to a shiver, and I feel your hands replace mine where my cock is, cuddling it in your fingers, the left stroking my sac & the right squeezing any remaining drops out before lifting it, stroking it, rubbing the length in your palm, holding it close, and making me hard with your touch. I groan into the space of the bathroom, my voice echoing as my right hand braces me on the wall, while the left reaches back, pushing your head down closer to my body, letting your tongue craze the flesh in search of my tender unsuspecting bung.

I grow harder under your touch, and suddenly gasp, as your tongue dances lewdly on my anus, the sphincter ring being swabbed and stroked, lubed and lusted after as you continue jacking off my cock momentum building, a purring coming from my body, wicked & obscene. My cock fills your hand bracing wide the grip of your fingers, and even I am surprised the kneeling woman who's passion engulfs me like a drowning man, with just these kisses, has me harder than I was last night.

The tongue then stops, and I hear you whisper, "Turn around baby."

I do and see you reclining on the floor, playing with your pussy, pulling the lips open, slipping 3 fingers inside yourself, groaning as you quick-bang your hot slick buttery opening. My eyes see the perfectly erect nipples, your tongue lolling out of the corner of your mouth, the amazing tits jumping moving back & forth as you continue pummeling your sweet shaved cunt again & again. As the liquid creates a sheen on your inner thigh, I hear you whisper, "M-more than anything ... I wanted to watch you cum. I've felt it inside me, on me, and tasted and swallowed all your cum dear. Now I want it to fly ... "

With a hard lump in my throat, I swallow and watch you madly masturbating, and softly answer, "Anything for you .. anything at all ... "

The sound becomed deafening, the pumping squelching sound as you bury your fingers inside yourself, juices dribbling in all directions, the splashing occuring from the force of your fingers fucking the hot bald pussy now gripping four fingers instead of three. You buck under me, and slowly, still spinning and stroking my cock, I tug and kneel astride your ribs, your breast just below my cock, the tits jiggling madly, my eyes gazing into yours', the lust burning us both alive. Pumping fast stroking my balls with the other hands your eyes come off me, and now stare at my cock, the string of precum slipping off the tip and glazing my fingers as I squeeze the junior-jism out like a dollop of toothpaste.

I moan, looking down fascinated with your mouth, the one which showered my mind and body with praise and kisses, loving me, delighting in me, enjoying me all through the previous night. I stare transfixed with your incredible double-d's wiggling fleshbags I couldn't devour enough of in our wild exchanges or Kama Sutra stances losing ourselves in the variety of things we did coupling ourselves together again & again.

"Did you like fucking me like you did baby? Repeatedly, angrily, wantonly taking me whenever the urge struck you last night?"I could only nod, watching you speak as naughtily as you did on the phone & cam calls we had before meeting. Your body jumped sharply, and you continued pumping rolling your unseen hips under me banging yourself faster, harder into the delight of your touching your own clitty and fingering your pussy.

"Was I the cocksucker of your dreams dearest? Did all the dicks I tasted, face-fucked and sucked off make me better than any porn queen you've ever seen?"

Another gulp, and my acknowledgement: "Yes angel ... better than anyone I've ever seen, spoken to, or touched. Noone was ever as good as you?"

My rhythm increased, the pounding a need, a deed, an accomplishment. I fist-fucked my own cock for you, groaning watching your face seeing your eyes flutter as you slid a finger inside yourself the response of you touching and teasing your own clitty as the other hand kept puming inside you, my body unsure of how many fingers were inside you or if you had a fist buried inside that wet-velvet paradise.

I felt my body shake, and you were convulsing to your own orgasms, the liquid fire spreading between us on the towel-ladent bathroom floor, watching you watching me, both masturbating, aching to please each other.

"Were you surprised you got so hard babe?" Her whispers were angelic touched of priaprim to my cock, inducing madness with the erection. "Did you like being buried in my ass? Sodomizing me, making me your ass-fucked bitch in heat? Did you love how I wiggled as if I wanted you to stop, making you buttfuck me faster ... when all the time I just wanted you deeper inside my anus? Did you love it too much?"

She grinned, lewd and alive, the incredible tits jumping around in my vision, up and down, sending shockwaves into my mind, making me move faster, pump my cock harder, the rock in my grip sliding up & down like a pneumatic hammer, bouncing wildly, fucking my fist, wishing I could be wrapped up inside anything she offered me.

"Do you want to cum over me, coating me with your stickiness?"

I nodded, gasping, then felt your fingers dancing on my buttocks; one finger slid over the lubed ring of my anus, still wet from your previous probing and the small trickle of sweat down my spine, and I felt the fingertip slide inside me. I gasped, eyes agog, body erect, watching you smile wickedly. A second later the tip stirred inside me, and I felt my jaw drop as my sphincter accpted the intrusion.

Suddenly, the prostate flexed. You hadn't touched it yet but I knew my urgency was there and my cum jetted out of my dickhead, showering you in an arc of white, splattering your amazing tits & cleavage, frosting your nipples, and splashing onto the chin and lips. Your eyes glimmered in the morning light of the bathroom, a haze added to our morning masturbation, and then they flickered. A drawn out musty scent filled the room and as I pumped and squeezed the last of the cum from my fingers I saw your body jarred under me from your own orgasm.

Tenderly, you pushed me foward, over your craning lips, licking outward, suckling the tip of my cock, drinking the last dribbling drops you could from my vein. I groaned as you gently teasingly bit the tip, then moaned as the cock now lay on your tongue, you nursing it back to life, loving it with your licks and desires, the eyes closed in the path of heaven we found.

"I love you", I said softly.

"I love you too", she replied. "I just hope my husband doesn't come home too soon again."

Can you hear that in your voice, the sigh in mine?

Do you want to hear it happening?

Always,

Julian

Dinner with Dolly

Today, (Thursday July 24, 08) I was having dinner in San Antonio amid the fears of Hurricane Dolly, or rather 'Tropical Storm Dolly', though at this point she hasn't deserved the title in any direction. She was a fizzle, hydroplaning a few cars with wet roads, and scaring some of the people as they drove to work with me in the telemarketting firm I work at in Northeast San Antonio.

So after seeing my fears of becoming a cubicle zombie arise and grasp my throat like a steely-gripped undead from the grave, I shivered and smiled, and then went with my class, thinking carefully about my decision. I have no choices as there is no money coming into my pockets, and I'm scared. Just scared of being lonely, bored or in a rut I may never escape. But I am here and that's what matters, period. No more crying or wringing of my fingers to the Heavens. It is what it is - nothing more nothing less.

But ... I could have dinner at least. And I had a nice dinner, including a beer. I smiled, wrote a letter to one of my friends, and listened to the song "Encadenados" by Luis Miguel from his 'Romances' album. In the beginning is a sweeping romantic violin opening that makes the heart flutter and the song touches you like the two lovers longing for each other in the depths of Hell, Dante's vision of obsession and ultimate sacrifice as they leave behind God & love for their own pleasures.

But like I mentioned, the opening & melody is very pretty.

I had a beer, some hot food, relaxed with this & a little more music, and went home to write this blog entry.

It was a nice evening.

A little company would have made it dessert in my heart.

Blessings,

Julian

***********






Encadenados lyrics

Tal vez seria mejor que no volvieras
quizas fuera mejor que me olvidaras
Volver es empezar a atormentarnos
a querernos para odiarnos
sin principio ni final
Nos hemos hecho tanto, tanto dano
que amor entre nosotros, es martirio
jamas quiso llegar el desengano
ni el olvidio, ni el delirio
seguiremos siempre igual
Carino como el nuestro es un castigo
que se lleva en el alma hasta la muerte
mi suerte necesita de tu suerte
y tu me necesitas mucho mas
Por eso no habra nunca despedida
ni paz alguna habra de consolarnos
El paso del dolor, ha de encontrarnos
de rodillas en la vida
frente a frente... y nada mas

http://www.elyrics.net/read/l/luis-miguel-lyrics/encadenados-lyrics.html

And if you want to know what these amazing lyrics mean ...

http://www.love-that-luis.com/lyrics-romncs/encadena.htm

Streets of Fire - Music & Lyrics

When I grew up in the 80's, we had the roots of what's now considered 'rock-a-billy' coming out with the Stray Cats & a few others that had a rock & roll/redneck appeal to their sound, fast lyrics & raunchy guitar. All you were ever missing was the Chuck Berry 'duckwalk' ... and these songs made us all smile & think & wish we could be this adventurous, alive and amazing.

Enjoy!


Julian

------



Fire Inc. lyrics, - Tonight Is What It Means to Be Young lyrics

I've got a dream 'bout an angel on the beach
And the perfect waves are starting to come
His hair is flying out in ribbons of gold
And his touch has got the power to stun

I've got a dream 'bout an angel in the forest
Enchanted by the edge of a lake
His body's flowing in the jewels alive
And the earth below is starting to shake

But I don't see any angels in the city
I don't hear any holy choirs sing
And if I can't get an angel
I can still get a boy
And a boy'd be the next best thing
The next best thing to an angel
A boy'd be the next best thing

I've got a dream 'bout a boy in a castle
And he's dancing like a cat on the stairs
He's got the fire of a prince in his eyes
And the thunder of a drum in his ears

I've got a dream 'bout a boy on a star
Lookin' down upon the rim of the world
He's there all alone and dreamin' of someone like me
I'm not an angel but at least I'm a girl

I've got a dream when the darkness is over
We'll be lyin' in the rays of the sun
But it's only a dream and tonight is for real
You'll never know what it means
But you'll know how it feels
It's gonna be over (over)
Before you know it's begun
(Before you know it's begun)

It's all we really got tonight
Stop your cryin' hold on (tonight)
Before you know it it's gone (tonight)
Tonight is what it means to be young
Tonight is what it means to be young

Let the rebels begin
Let the fire be started
We're dancing for the restless and the broken-hearted
Let the rebels begin
Let the fire be started
We're dancing for the desperate and the broken-hearted
Let the rebels begin ...(Tonight is what it means to be young...)
Let the fire be started ...(Before you know it it's gone...)
We're dancing for the restless and the broken-hearted
Let the rebels begin
Let the fire be started
We're dancing for the desperate and the broken-hearted

Say a prayer in the darkness for the magic to come
No matter what it seems
Tonight is what it means to be young
Before you know it it's gone
Tonight is what it means to be young
Before you know it it's gone

Ah...

I've got a dream when the darkness is over
We'll be lyin' in the rays of the sun
But it's only a dream and tonight is for real
You'll never know what it means
But you'll know how it feels
It's gonna be over (over)
Before you know it's begun

It's all we really got tonight
Stop your cryin' hold on (tonight)
Before you know it it's gone (tonight)
Tonight is what it means to be young
Tonight is what it means to be young...

The things they say
And then the things they do
Nothin's gonna stop us if our aim is true...

The things they say
And then the things they do
Nothin's gonna stop us if our aim is true...

The things they say
And then the things they do
Nothin's gonna stop us if our aim is true...

(Tonight is what it means to be young...)

http://www.soundtracklyrics.net/song-lyrics/streets-of-fire-a-rock-&-roll-fable/tonight-is-what-it-means-to-be-young.htm



Streets Of Fire: A Rock & Roll Fable lyrics
Movie "Streets Of Fire: A Rock & Roll Fable" soundtrack lyrics
Fire Inc. lyrics, - Nowhere Fast lyrics

Lying in your bed and on a Saturday night
You're sweatin' buckets and it's not even hot
But your brain has got the message
And it's sending it out
To every nerve and every muscle you've got

You've got so many dreams
That you don't know where to put 'em
So you'd better turn a few of 'em loose
Your body's got a feeling that it's starting to rust
You'd better rev it up and put it to use

And I don't know how I ever thought that I could make it all alone
When you only make it better
And it better be tonight
And we'll fly away on those angel wings of chrome in your daddy's car
Waiting there for you tonight
I'll be there for you tonight

Even if you don't have anywhere to go
You go down on the pedal and you're ready to roll
And even if you don't have anywhere to go
You go down on the pedal and you're ready to roll
And your speed
Is all you'll ever need
All you'll ever need to know
Darlin', Darlin'-

You and me we're goin' nowhere slowly
And we've gotta get away from the past
There's nothin' wrong with goin' nowhere, baby
But we should be goin' nowhere fast

Everybody's goin' nowhere slowly
They're only fighting for the chance to be last
There's nothin' wrong with goin' nowhere, baby
But we should be goin' nowhere fast
It's so much better goin' nowhere fast

Ah...

Stalkin' in the shadows by the light of the moon
It's like a prison and the night is a cell
Goin' anywhere has gotta be heaven tonight
'Cause stayin' here has gotta be hell
Dyin' in the city like a fire on the water
Let's go runnin' on the back of the wind
There's gotta be some action on the face of the earth
And I've gotta see your face once again

And I don't know where I ever got the bright idea that I was cool
So alone and independent
But I'm depending on you now
And you'll always be the only thing that I just can't be without
And I'm out for you tonight
I'm comin' out for you tonight

Even if you don't have anywhere to go
You go down on the pedal and you're ready to roll (ready to roll)
Even if you don't have anywhere to go
You go down on the pedal and you're ready to roll
And your speed
Is all you'll ever need
All you'll ever need to know
Darlin', Darlin'-

You and me we're goin' nowhere slowly
And we've gotta get away from the past
There's nothin' wrong with goin' nowhere, baby
But we should be goin' nowhere fast

Everybody's goin' nowhere slowly
They're only fighting for the chance to be last
There's nothin' wrong with goin' nowhere, baby
But we should be goin' nowhere fast
It's so much better goin' nowhere fast

Godspeed
Godspeed
Godspeed
Speed us away!

Godspeed
Godspeed
Godspeed
Speed us away!

Godspeed
Godspeed
Godspeed
Speed us away!

(We're goin' nowhere fast!)

(Ah...)

http://www.soundtracklyrics.net/song-lyrics/streets-of-fire-a-rock-&-roll-fable/nowhere-fast.htm

Don't Know Why - Maybe I've Been Bad

Hiya Perverts & Pervettes,

I hope you're in a good mood since I am not, but all I can do is hope, right?

And thus as I get closer to the end of my summer I realize that I'll never fuck a woman like a porn star again.

So very fuckin' sad.

At least there's some images of 'what might have been'.

Maybe I've added these to remind myself I am supposed to be repugnant and coarse, vulgar & obscene.

How else do you do it? Wiggling art added to the blog!

Let this be your lesson: "Wait for nothing; take if you can't earn, steal if necessary and ride your dreams to their fatalistic end."

Always,

Julian

p.s. "Hopefully down here they're moving ... ;-) "

"At least until PhotoBucket catches on ... ~lol!~

Awakened by Travesty - 3 Floyds

(Written July 11th - posted today)

I'll be 41 in less than 2 days. It's nothing to celebrate. As I get older I am beginning to see that birthdays are commemorations of failure and depression. I've felt off-kilter for about a year, and I don't know if it's because I have done so many stupid things that enrage and destroy my reality or if because I am growing jealous knowing my stories will die and my ideas falter while I drag my feet or find myself a job.

I want a cigarette. I haven't smoked in years so I don't think I want one for more than the way the tears will come to be spurting from my eyes.

I want a chance to be calm - to be joyous. And I have learned after all these years it's not in the hollowness of church-life. I'm not worshipping a god or even my God. I am just going through the paces of being in an established order. It's a rigmarole; or maybe it's that I lack a beating heart any longer and thua I am unhappy.



I love music, in case you have never noticed it in my blogs. Pink Floyd's "The Great Gig in the Sky", is a pure expression of love. My writing is measured, watched, censored, lost and found. I have come to really hate my MySpace blog, and the lack of interest it's generated from people on-line. I am thinking it was a real waste of time, so it may need to be deleted. Disappear, like I want to disappear; sadly not from my friends and lovers on-line, but from my family & acquaintances here in Texas. BAMF!

As I sip my coffee, I am listening to Pink Floyd on YouTube while processing my thoughts. One of them is that I had to recheck my own spelling, since I couldn't recall the way to spell 'rigmarole', which I thought was 'rigamarole', and thus this entry stalled for several minutes.

I pride myself on the way I speak, using clarity, diction, and deliberacy of phrase and thought for words; words are so incredibly powerful, filled with emotion, creation and death. People have no idea that their words can be so strong, and they don't know how to choose the right ones for anything more than the moment of delight or to sate their appetite.



Words, unlike the shell we hold, are immortal, and they will live on so much longer than we can imagine. Words make and keep the moments, unleash the fury of our hearts, and let us visit plateaus some of us can't imagine without acid on our tongues, or Hendrix playing in our minds, a Woodstock we'll never know, a Nirvana we passed the chance to see.

Fickle Fortune ... sadness and glory. A lacking and a gain; all the world in a grain of sand and all your wants blown off like dust in the eye of a storm. Momentarily tranquil- then it's gone.

I've done much in life and little. Maybe this is the Karmatic result of my actions: anxiety & fear.

Thanks for listening.


~J~




These are the lyrics to "Time" and "Home", with the verbal introduction to the "Great Gig in the Sky", all taken from this website:

http://www.allfloyd.com/lyrics/Lyrics.html

And all three songs come from "Dark Side of the Moon" - isn't it a shame that it's taken me so very long to finally see the strength of these words? Maybe that's why they've substained me without me knowing why ...


Time (Mason, Waters, Wright, Gilmour) 7:06

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way.
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way.

Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain.
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today.
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you.
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.

So you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it's sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again.
The sun is the same in a relative way but you're older,
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death.

Every year is getting shorter never seem to find the time.
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over,
Thought I'd something more to say.


Breathe (reprise) 7:06

Home, home again.
I like to be here when I can.
When I come home cold and tired
It's good to warm my bones beside the fire.
Far away across the field
The tolling of the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spells.


The Great Gig in the Sky (Wright) 4:44

"And I am not frightened of dying, any time will do, I
don't mind. Why should I be frightened of dying?
There's no reason for it, you've gotta go sometime."

"If you can hear this whispering you are dying."

"I never said I was frightened of dying."

(Instrumental)

When the smoke is going down & Always somewhere

The Scorpions When The Smoke is Going Down Lyrics

Music :rudolf schenker
Lyrics:klaus meine

Just when you make your way back home
I find some time to be alone
I go to see the place once more
Just like a thousand nights before
I climb the stage again this night
'cause the place seems still alive
When the smoke is going down

This is the place where I belong
I really love to turn you on
I've got your sound still in my ear
While your traces disappear
I climb the stage again this night
'cause the place seems still alive
When the smoke is going down

I climb the stage again this night
'cause the place seems still alive
When the smoke is going down
When the smoke is going down
When the smoke is going down







The Scorpions Always Somewhere Lyrics


Arrive at seven the place feels good
No time to call you today
Encore till eleven then chinese food
Back to the hotel again

I call your number the line ain't free
I like to tell you come to me
A night without you seems like a lost dream
Love I can't tell you how I feel

Always somewhere
Miss you where I've been
I'll be back to love you again
Always somewhere
Miss you where I've been
I'll be back to love you again

Another morning another place
The only day off is far away
But every city has seen me in the end
And brings me to you again

Always somewhere
Miss you where I've been
I'll be back to love you again
Always somewhere
Miss you where I've been
I'll be back to love you again




http://www.metrolyrics.com/the-scorpions-lyrics.html

Phone Sex - Part 3

Since the 1980's, or at least in the earlierst copies of HUSTLER in my studio, I have found that people have been seeking phone sex for some time. Beginning with checks by mail & appointments, sent Polaroids/pictures, and then shifting to credit card charging and finally into 1-800, 1-900 & 976 #'s, up to now with checks-by-phone, phone billing to UK or overseas sites or charing on the internet for calls and even cam-play.

Wow! That was a mouthful! Just like the calls we all enjoy. ~lol!~

On the web I found this story on Yahoo, and decided to post it, showing all your who are seeking Phone Sex and the delight of an incredible fantasy fulfillment and (of course!) and orgasm, this is for you. Work on your sound and resonance. Work on your body shape, and tell the world you're seeking the delights of the aural fantasy.

Now I know that there are some of you who are wondering what's going on inside and how will we be able to accomplish the landing of someone for a wicked call and the incredible pleasure of the moment. That's charm - you're on your own.

On the plus side if you're able to make the best of your own vocabulary, your brains, and your desires, then hopefully you'll make the best of the chance to make love with your voice and your choices. And I can tell you this now - all my callers ARE SEXY ... thank you for being so sexy!

~smooch!~

Blessings,

Julian

**********

Sexy People Sound Better

Greg Soltis - LiveScience Staff

LiveScience.com

Wed Jul 16, 8:51 AM ET

People with voices deemed sexy and attractive tend to have greater body symmetry upon close inspection, suggesting that what we hear in a person can greatly affect what we see in them.

"The sound of a person's voice reveals a considerable amount of biological information," said Susan Hughes, an evolutionary psychologist from Albright College in Reading, Pa. "It can reflect the mate value of a person."

Hughes, whose new study is detailed in the June 2008 edition of the Journal of Nonverbal Behavior, cautions that an attractive voice does not necessarily indicate that this person has an attractive face.



A symmetric body is genetically sound, scientists say, and in evolutionary terms, in the wild, it can be an important factor when selecting a mate. But sometimes changes during prenatal development can slightly skew this balance. For instance, the length ratio between index and ring fingers, known as the digit ratio, is fixed by the first trimester, a time that corresponds with vocal cord and larynx development. If the hormone surge that affects vocal development also affects finger growth, there should be a connection between an individual's voice and digit ratio.

Hughes could not demonstrate a connection between voice attractiveness and digit ratio in her previous work, possibly due to vocal changes that occur during puberty. So in the new study, about 100 individuals listened to previously recorded voices and independently rated them on nine traits important during mate selection: approachability, dominance, healthiness, honesty, intelligence, likelihood to get dates, maturity, sexiness and warmth.

Study participants generally agreed on what made a voice attractive. But when Hughes used a spectrogram to analyze these voice ratings according to different acoustic properties such as pitch, intensity, jitter and shimmer, she could not find a common feature that made these voices seem attractive.

This indicates our perceptual system may be more advanced than expected.

"We can agree on what's an attractive voice yet I can't capture it with a computer," Hughes told LiveScience.said.

Investigating if a combination of these properties can define an attractive voice may shed light on a connection, she said.

10 Tips for a Healthy Voice
Deep-Voice Men Have More Kids
10 Things You Didn't Know About You
Original Story: Sexy People Sound Better

http://news.yahoo.com/s/livescience/20080716/sc_livescience/sexypeoplesoundbetter - Original Yahoo Story



http://afare24get.blogspot.com/2008/07/phone-sex-part-2.html - regarding people

http://afare24get.blogspot.com/2008/06/on-phone-sex.html - Beginning the Idea

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phone_sex - Wikipedia on the Phone Sex explaination

Visit LiveScience.com for more daily news, views and scientific inquiry with an original, provocative point of view. LiveScience reports amazing, real world breakthroughs, made simple and stimulating for people on the go. Check out our collection of Science, Animal and Dinosaur Pictures, Science Videos, Hot Topics, Trivia, Top 10s, Voting, Amazing Images, Reader Favorites, and more. Get cool gadgets at the new LiveScience Store, sign up for our free daily email newsletter and check out our RSS feeds today!

100% of Misery

What Makes Life 100%? Ever wonder about those people who say they are giving more than 100%?

We have all been to those meetings where someone wants over 100%. But, how about achieving 103%? Here's a little math that might prove helpful.

What makes life 100%?

If ...
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

is represented as:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26

Then,

H A R D W O R K

8 1 18 4 23 15 18 11 = 98%

K N O W L E D G E

11 14 15 23 12 5 4 7 5 = 96%

But,

A T T I T U D E

1 20 20 9 20 21 4 5 = 100%

And,

B U L L S H I T

2 21 12 12 19 8 9 20 = 103%

So, it stands to reason that hardwork and knowledge will get you close, attitude will get you there, but bullshit will put you over the top.

And look how far .........

A S S K I S S I N G

1 19 19 11 9 19 19 9 14 7 = 118%

- will take you.

***********

A friend of mine gave me the table above, and someone else asked me about my 'grades' from this summer. In case you didn't know I was taking Biology 101 for 4 hours a day, a lab & lecture one behind the other. As I went through the class I saw that I was one of the fuckin' few that didn't cheat in the goddamned class.

I know that I have done more than I can imagine in getting my grades and I worked hard for this fucking class! I hated the dull, nonsensical teacher, but i took the class. I failed and I don't know by how much so I just wasted $300+ dollars that I could have saved for my phone bill to AT&T to pay for all the phone sex calls with my friends & lovers.

I could have been drawing, having more calls, and enjoying myself a great deal, but instead I wriggled and writhed in this ridiculous class. I am going to have an audit and make sure whether I need or don't need this fucking class for graduation.

I NEED to graduate. I NEED to leave school and I need to have the money necessary to work through life. I'm not 20 any longer, and I can't wait.

I have just heard from the West Telemarketing people; my training starts next week and I need a class for the Fall to keep recieving my awards moving through life until there's a career to rid me of my debts. If dreams were part of it I'd be happy. Instead it's just the sour desperation of reality - I need a job and more money than I am making now.

Okay, I'm gonna Irish my coffee (Please don't be offended my redheaded, freckled readers & lusters!) ... a little whiskey to make me smile, while I bake a potato to sink myself in comfort food.

At least the flavor is richer than my wallet.

Ciao.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KYvmiN1BviA - I Get Weak/Belinda Carlisle

A Love Story in My Dreams

I dream I had been walking around the local neighborhood, with some of the old dorky guys from back-in-the-day. It was daytime, and we had shorts and backpacks. I remember somehow we discussed a girl from highschool, and everyone was talking about hot gorgeous she was, and one of my friends was talking about going to see her (or find/pursuit her), so he was asking about dressing up. He was talking guy-outfits, and decided to wear a short, waist-high coat with matching pants & loafers - tres 80's. (Since it seemed to be more of a past event, his outfit in particular, I assumed we'd all graduated from high school.)

As her name was being discussed, one of the guys mentioned she had a small chip/turn in one of her back teeth. I told them she was still gorgeous. I smiled, but never said anything about how I felt or what I had in the way of a relationship with her. Nothing said about her upset me, and shortly thereafter, everyone left. From a spot on my bookcase, I pulled a tiny envelope; in it were some photos wrapped in paper, like a leftover insert from a church bulletin or school announcement. The edges were worn, and inside it held 4 or 5 glossy snapshots from a 110 camera, the kind that were four inches square with rounded tips, and had a date stamped in white or black like 'June 1984'.

* One was her class photo, fom high school photo, looking the way girls looked in 1984 looked, holding their innocence and beaming as they approached a world filled with promise and wanting to reach their dreams.

* On one of the photos she hung off the shoulder of one of my friends, the guys who'd been talking to me about her, striking a teen model pose. She had been a teen model, and always reveled in those 15 minutes of that never took her anywhere.

* One was her and a blonde friend dancing furiously, laughing gaily, enjoying a frenzied moment of fun captured by the second. hair flew everywhere, but her smile was absolutely visible.

* The last was was of her (or her & I) sitting on my bed, posed and relaxed, showing me her absolute beauty.

What you first read was the dream - this is the reality.

It's a little before 7:00 a.m., and I'm having my coffee, scribbling, my dog at my feet, Styx, Great White & the Scorpions playing out of my computer. It's been eons since I thought of my love story to her. She was always "that girl", unattainable, aloof, and dating a jock. One day she was in a car accident, and I rushed in, ordering people back, talking to her, putting my jacket under her head, calling 911 from a nearby home.

I spoke her name, and she reacted, and the ambulance arrived. her family came, the wrecker showed up, and wwithin moments, it was all done. I tried talking to her a few times after that, but her "cool" friends kept me at a distance. I was a Junior, and she was a Senior. They were cool, and I was not. At the last dance of the school year, one of my friends knew her well, and brought her over to me. I wanted to hide, but she knew what I did for her, and she came to me smiling, her eyes twinkling in the strobe lights of the darkened gym, and I asked her to dance. "Still Loving You" by the Scorpions played, and as she wrapped her arms around my neck, I was happy. (THAT was one of the few times I would be happy. High school fuckin' sucked donkey balls for me - I REALLY fuckin' hated it like it hated me!!) She thanked me, smiled and danced close. At that moment, I knew she'd never feel the way I felt for her. I was her hero, her protector, never to be anything more.

She came to me in the dream I am blogging about, not frantic or upset, and bringing me a little joy. She reminded me my life has enjoyed, and enjoys, many love stories. There's no critical mass or hemhoragging of social commentaries. Just a smile.

Nothing but a smile.

And as i write this, that's all I'm wearing.

But I don't think she wants to see that side of me. ~lol!~


Always,


~J~



http://www.flickr.com/photos/djfrantic/sets/72157594505308241/ - reference & inspiration photos

http://www.flickr.com/photos/beinder/ - more inspiration from the past

Lyrics - Still Loving You

Rudolf Schenker, Klaus Meine)

Time, it needs time
To win back your love again
I will be there, I will be there
Love, only love
Can bring back your love someday
I will be there, I will be there

I'll fight, babe, I'll fight
To win back your love again
I will be there, I will be there
Love, only love
Can break down the wall someday
I will be there, I will be there

If we'd go again
All the way from the start
I would try to change
The things that killed our love
Your pride has built a wall, so strong
That I can't get through
Is there really no chance
To start once again
I'm loving you

Try, baby try
To trust in my love again
I will be there, I will be there
Love, our love
Just shouldn't be thrown away
I will be there, I will be there

If we'd go again
All the way from the start
I would try to change
The things that killed our love
Your pride has built a wall, so strong
That I can't get through
Is there really no chance
To start once again

If we'd go again
All the way from the start
I would try to change
The things that killed our love
Yes, I've hurt your pride, and I know
What you've been through
You should give me a chance
This can't be the end
I'm still loving you
I'm still loving you, I need your love
I'm still loving you

Prom Chaos 1985 & 2008

I remember the prom: corsage, crinoline dress with spahgetti straps, a see-through shawl, and semi-chunk heels that your mom was wearing for church earlier this year. Or they're the spikey, over-strappy shoes wrapped around you several times. I remember tickets were $25 a couple, meaning with your date all the crappy finger-foods & punch were covered along with chaperone's from the classes, meaning the teachers' mingled about, watching that we didn't see them slip away to have a double-scotch at the bar below our ballroom.

God almighty - 1985 was SO long ago.

Wow. 23 years ago I was wishing for the luck of love, and in the end I was toilet-papering a friends' house in my tuxedo while being driven about by the chauffeur from the mortuary. Yes, I rented a mourners' car, but that's because we rented every car around town; after I rented the gigantic behemoth & people were rushing to enter that pact since they didn't want to go to the prom in a monster truck or driven by mommy in the station wagon or in the 'Good Times' van by Chevy with all the air-brushed art or candy flecking & captains chairs inside them. And yes, he & I were drunk as skunks!

Sadly, despite the imagery of soccer-moms and groceries, the mini-van was just coming into style and not yet along side with the available transports in the market.

Or at least not in Southern Texas. ~lol!~ Truth be told I've even driven one of those ultra-custom vans holding everything but a waterbed and a strokelight and discoball.

Anyway, back to prom: I wore a white dinner jacket, and to psyche myself up to actually having a date with a girl, I kept replaying the song "View to a Kill" by Duran-Duran from the Bond movie of the same name, and thought I looked pretty spiffy in my big glasses with brown tinting, red bow tie & matching cummerbund, and my date came from the costal town of Port Aransas; she was older than me, MUCH hotter than I could imagine, and was sweet enough to do this favor of attending the prom with me.

I took my best-friend since third grade cub scouts, and he had his steady girl who later became his first wife. I learned later that the Losoya's next door were connected to him also, knowing him from days in the Air Force and chaos between marriages. he had the back seat to make out in, and I was too shy to do anything but make small talk with my date, whom I'd had a crush on since we'd met in 1982. Three years, several meetings and my prom and despite being watched by my classmates nothing happened.

Dammit, I wish I could find the actual prom pics - I've found some similar to my outfit and the times, but they're not really me. Grrrrrrrrrrrr!

We crashed a Bennigan's & had two bottles of champagne, steaks for dinner, and smiled & took a load of pictures and I was happy. Two hours before I had been dancing, and all the girls from my school were taken aback that I had a date at all.

They were certain I'd pussy out and just fall off the face of the earth, or actually go alone to such an event. I wasn't the extrovert I am now so sitting home would have been more my style than anything else, thus the beginning of the hermit lifestlye I seek today.

Why are we discussing this topic? Actually, the Prom in Houston, Texas for high school had an arguement that occurred at the hotel hosting the ballroom, and one of the atendees and her date were escorted off the property by the police. Very sad, that the girls' only real prom photo was the one of her in cuffs. She cried to the listening television station that her outfit was 'custom made', and that she really liked her dress. Sadly, she also broke one of the rules as listed on her prom ticket:

* Only one inch of the midsection can be shown.
* Bare backs are acceptable.
* Slits in the dress can be no more than three inches from the knee.
* See through fabrics should not be in places to which reveal private body parts.
* Proper undergarments must be worn at all times. (This was her death knell, dear readers, see the photos below! And when she cried to the television station she was showing off her tattooes & nipples within the confines of the dress.)
* Tennis shoes of any kind are unacceptable.

Now she claimed her friends tried covering her with the train of the dress and when she was not allowed inside, she asked for a refund immediately of her ticket money. It was not given, and she was told to leave - when she refused the police were called and thus she went out in handcuffs.

I saw the dress, and it IS revealing, so I don't think she didn't know, but she tried getting by and failed. However, I searched for something I had seen before, and there it was: American Idol Kellie Pickler in her prom dress, which was by no means modest in any description of the word.

In fact, I think the only other person worthy of that outfit would have been Jenna Jameson or Traci Lords. I mean, really: tell me those dresses aren't the infatuation with the lustiness of youth and the chance to show off while you've got it? Had I known I'd look the way I do now in life I think my jeans would have been a little tighter.

~wink!~

I am going to finish my degree in Language Arts 6-12 and one of the local high shcools could hire me. Thus, I'd be the chaperone, and the one barring entry or smiling politely showing off my barely-legal date to the rest of the senior class. I know I'd get some disapproving looks like I do now in life.

That girl knew better, but she also could have been dealt with on a different level that would not have involved the police rolling her out the door. Maybe the principal should have taken her to Rick's Cabaret so she could see who really likes her dress besides horny teenage boys... well, really anyone with a wanga-doodle & their tongue hanging out.

After all, I don't think she was ever refunded the money.

At least she could have earned it back.

Adios!



~J~

Very Odd, fleshy dream on my 41st

I was at a wedding, and saw one of my former students, wearing heels, a business suit, and looking more adult than I've ever seen her look for all the years I knew her as a teen-hoochie. Then I noticed her sister, who was always a nerdy-looking girl with big glasses and long hair and a ultra-cute ass despite having no other real portions for her figure. She now looked like Crissy Moran but with girly-cute glasses, but she told me shae was barely-legal, and gave me a look as if she were crushing on me, despite my age & perversions. And yet, she kept coming and smiling, wanting to dance or have a drink with me at this barroom-wedding where the beer was flowing and the music redneck. Her sister, who looked like Julia Roberts with a sour look, seemed to know her sister had a crush on me and I on her ... curves.
*
I told her I would take her home, well to visit my parents, (I guess) giving up all the restraints of my current life, surrendering to being in love with a girl half my age. As we moved through the barroom, she was parted from me, and I whisked through the kitchen, I found her on the floor, giggling and rolling about. Someone gave me a glance, and I moved closer, lifting her by the arm, as opposed to into my arms, and went to my vehicle. (I currently drive a Chevy Cobalt but I'd love a big truck again.) I found my parents house looking abandoned, but there were some lights on, but not the outer light and my sister's truck in the gravel driveway. As I came upon the house with my child-bride (somehow I sensed we weren't 'dating' so much as 'married' - too creepy!) in tow close. There I found my sister as a bigger, trailer-park, Jerry Springer guest with a condescending look of disapproval on her face. I sat on the floor, watching tv as my girl slept off whatever she had drank. My sister lead in the thugs from the movie 'Be Kind Rewind', and they all sat on the floor opposite of us, and for some reason the living room looked like the hidden study from the first 'Highlander' movie.
*
(I think it's what they call the 'thunderbolt' - BAM! You're hit & you're in love.)
*
Anyway, for some reason we had to our way to an auditorium that had an underground storage locker filling with ice all the time. In it were some sailors in pea coats & dungarees, and others seemed about 6'6" (2 meters) tall, broad shouldered like something out of 'Tom of Finland', not so queer & skinny like CK or Abecrombie & Fitch models. As we rushed past we found we needed to go up into an office space that had a magic golf club.
*
For some reason, military personell were rushing past us, dropping weapons everywhere, including some nice M4's and an M249 SAW, which, despite the mob, we discarded/ignored. I just shrugged, let my barely-legal bride take me along and we rushed into a office that looked like something out of 'RoboCop' or 'The Shining'; spacious & creepy.


Seth Green was holding the club in a display case, and then for some reason I was with the girl in an underground bunker, and there were some odd hicks moving about, forcing the door of the cold stoarge open with a pry bar, and showing off his cute but chubby bride, wearing only Ugs (boots) a long t-shirt over her ample curves, and a hunting cap, like the kinds that stereo-type rednecks or Canadians. (Apologies to my reader in the Great White North!) When the redneck (who resembled the assistant coach from 'The Waterboy') released them, they all marvelled at what little clothing both wore in the below-freezing climates of the room. She showed off her ample and round ass, smiling, as he reminded the sailors of the benefits of body warmth, and how that would have prolonged their survival.

*

I was thinking, as we came along the inclined corridor, the saliors leaving along another path, while we went to the surface the way we came, carrying the golf club. I saw flashes of museum or gallery frames, paintings on the walls, some images of flashing lobbies from hotels I've visited in Louisiana, Texas, Mexico and California. Memories of the past - places I shouldn't have been in or little moments of trespassing where I wasn't supposed to be and was shown out for lack of money or status. I've been crushed for my skin color, watched for the time I've spent in stores, and asked to leave.
*
I don't know why the two came to me as I write this today. Maybe it's because I am turning 41 tomorrow and am having a bland birthday. I think I am working hard to alienate people from my life currently, and working hard to disband all the old things in my life. I won't be volunteering for anything any longer, helping anyone but myself, and hoping only for my own success. Since I've been pushed off and can't go into a bland career as a teacher, working steadily until I reach the grave or pay off my old debts, and I HAD TO find a job in the telemarketting sector of life, since I am kind of shy about posting my art until it's finished. I love taking pictures, smiling and enjoying the various art genres such as comics, pop art, painting, and making joy breathe with the moments I'm having on-line or in the shabbiness I call real life in Texas.
*
I am crushed at a few things:
- I'm a little older than I wish I were for the life I lead; don't bullshit me by saying '40 is the
new 30', like when some people said, 'Pink is the new black'. That was idiotic. Pink belongs in HUSTLER magazine, and black is what good guys wear. Just ask Chuck Norris.

- I have substanial debts from going to school, since I am semi-frivolous, and need to really have a salary within my lifestlye. That means I need more money or less chaos. Getting rid of people will probably help that occur, and since this is the first time in 17 years I won't be volunteering somewhere in the country, maybe I'm gonna clean up my spaces and make dreams happen.

- I want a new wardrobe. I have been back & forth working on dieting, and I lack sleep. All I should do to help others is what I need to do to help myself. Leave the sadness behind and work foward; Yahoo may have crushed my old blog but they didn't kill my spirit and I should be grateful for the spirit in my heart. Fuck them.

- I want a threesome, with two women of bisexual tendencies. Applicants send photos, nude with detailed perversions and sexual histories, fantasies and travel dates or vacation times for late August or early September. Also, you will need to sign a model release and a waiver for video taping. No, I'm not showing you off, but if it's ever 'stolen' like every celebrity video tape out there, you need to be protected and paid as well as me! ~lol!~

- I need to worship not mourn God. Kevin Smith in "Dogma" was very right about how Catholic's live, and I need to find a place that's fun, warm and joyous, not bland, dead or patriarchal. I need to sit, listen and be aware of what makes my heart sing.

- I need to accept that I am a bad man and am going to Hell or Purgatory at the least. I don't doubt the implications of the afterlife, but I don't want to be a zombie either. More than likely the Rapture will occur, and I'll be here on Earth; think, 'The Stand' by Stephen King. It's at that point I'll need to suffer to make the change in my life that I am living in my current hypocricy.

- I need to write more often, and run out moreo often too. It's not easy to write & chat with my incredible and seductive friends on-line so I have to be aware of my timing and delights. All I can do is my best, chat until lunch, after my morning workout, and then rush back into my studio to the drawing table or to the computer or the actual blank journals on my shelves that should be filled like my old ones when I was a younger man.

- I need a will, insurance, and more time with my dog; she deserves a better master than me, no matter how truly obedient she is with me and with my neighbors.

- I need more freedom, more money and less misery. I need to keep the ideas I have and make my movies, write my comics, and see the real life of joy that's out there instead of just griping. But today is for venting, for odd things that cross the mind, and make me go, "Err?" (Ha ha ha!)

- I need to be tested for ADD, schitzophrenia, behavior problems and need some new fuckin' friends. They've all made me feel like a idiot or a rube being poor, inviting me to their bullshit parties at fancy places, or if I don't go, making me feel bad because I MISSED their moment. FUCK THAT! When I turned 40, and one of our mutual acquaintences had a party, it was scheduled the same night as my birthday, never even recalling it was my birthday. To them that was just a convenient Saturday night; to me it meant being overshadowed again. It's always felt like that for me, and maybe it's what I deserve for being an asshole. WAIT - THAT'S THE THINKING I HAVE TO CORRECT: TAKING THE BLAME FOR SOMETHING I DIDN'T DO WRONG, OR EVEN APOLOGIZING FOR SOMETHING OUT OF MY CONTROL!! I just need to say 'Fuck it & fuck them' ... they never gave a shit before so why bother now?

- I need to let my disappointment in mankind die. Almost impossible but it's gotta happen or I'll hang myself with my own necktie and never dream again. (That's a metaphor - I'm not suicidal, just know that a necktie is what is part of a man's 'everyday uniform' in middle management. Please don't freak out.)

- I need to take more than I give, and give back from where or whom I take. Somehow ...

- I need to smile, and now glower. I don't know why I think about younger women, but it has been so much fun interacting with them. ~wink!~

---------
As I went about writing this my ADD was shivering, stalking and roving through the internet finding all these places & websites about the oddest things.

[Pictures will be added later ... ;-) ]

Hope you enjoy them too.


Julian

http://www.bustyandsexy.net/galleries/Mediumpimpin/Crissy_Moran_poka_dot/ - crissy's picture

http://www.flickr.com/photos/fuschia_foot/sets/72157604420664467/ - a little peek into someone's past

http://gallery.cumonhugehooters.com/photo/07/index.php?nats=MzAwOTk6MzoxMzI - Nice breast

http://www.drummerman.net/shining/index.html - weird about the Shining

http://jonnys53.blogspot.com/2007/06/what-you-may-or-may-not-have-seen.html - more Shining

http://explodingkinetoscope.blogspot.com/2006/03/dad-do-you-feel-bad-secret-history_31.html - still more about the Shining

http://alostrael.us/ - weird little website

http://www.jansbox.com/gals/pornstar/priv/35cindylords/pwmpfh.html - a little more porn for some of you

http://www.scottystease.com/category/boots/page/3/ - costumes galore

http://www.gettyimages.com/Home.aspx - eeeeh pictures

http://www.ethinking.net/ - someone's blog; good stuff in photos

http://bibliodyssey.blogspot.com/2007/04/armour-to-paper-on-origins-of-etching.html - art etchings

Tentacle Love

A friend of mine chatted with me, knowing I am trying to do art again & be more than a 'failed artist', so she said, "I have a little fantasy: I want to be one of those anime babes in the Hentai cartoons attacked by the tentacled creatures." At first I was taken aback, then I thought: 'Well, some women like the group interactions, like Annabelle Chong or Houston with the gang-bangs, and some women can exhaust more than one man ultra-quickly, so what's wrong with this fantasy?'

As I thought a little more about it I had to look for something with this in it, so here is one video to watch:

http://www.funny-games.biz/starfire-hentai-parody.html - Teen Titans Parody; wildly obscene and a little kinky too!

http://galleries.bondanime.com/h2kfh2/1/index.html?nats=NDI3MDozOjQ,0 - here's another one in the anime text of things much closer than the previous.

http://gallery.nichepass.com/fucked-in-space/3/6/96bcf2/ - And of course, here's a little more with wild
space wangs.

So then I started thinking about it more, and began sketching some things besides my friend, and recalled my past & the love of Horror and sci-fi movies. Then I figured, 'Maybe I need to see where this wild fetish comes from & why I'm so fascinated with it. As I thumbed through some of my books, I found this old movie from the late 60's, which was a American-Japanese melding of film genres, called "The Green Slime". It was Japanese movie stylings, meaning the backgrounds, costumes, special effects, and 'giallo' style acting, using American ex-pats livign overseas making careers where theirs' may have stalled stateside, and adding the lighting and wire effects of Chinese movies, and American money and distributions.

Whew! Lot to say .. ~lol!~

Anyway ... if they're not mauling spacemen they could be a pretty cool fetish inclination:



And then there's a rock video I found on Youtube.com which just killed me:



Now why don't more space costumes need go-go boots? And yes, if you never figured it out, I am a Trekkie! Woo-Hoo!



Okay, back to the drawing board & chatting with my friends. School has ended & I passed or failed without cheating like my teen counterparts but that's another story for another blog.

Blessings,


Julian

Phone Sex Part 2

On Phone Sex - More To Tell

I was chatting on-line with a friend (and occassional) lover of mine, who asked me, 'So Jules,where was that naked picture of yourself you promised me?' I replied, 'Well sweetie ... you promised me one of you too; skin-for-skin, that's it.' The chat got quiet for a moment, then she said, 'No, not after my last request. I doubt I'll ever do that again.'

When she opened up, she had told me that she'd sent a boy (and that's ALL I can call this unknown immature judgmental asshole!) a picture of her cleavage, who immediately called her cheap and sad,and logged off, ignoring her calls. She was hurt, mentally & emotionally, so I immediately sent her my less-than-perfect physique to see and to either giggle over or adorn. I was hurt that this friend of mine & lover was crushed for her honesty and embracing her sensuality expressing it and sharing it with this one-time lover.

A few minutes later she was giggling and sending smiley-face emoticons via Messenger and making me comfortable with who I am, as I have been very shy when someone sent me a fleshy picture. I knew I'd have to reciprocate eventually but have been so nervous about doing it in any manner. Hers' arrived, and I was aghast! WOW!! Amazing, gorgeous sweet cleavage! Beautifully manicured fingers, and the round ripples of crushed, clenched tits held lovingly by a woman aching to express herself like a butterfly coming out of the cocoon. I was thrilled she showed me this side of her.

And she's not the only one to show me this side of her, and the secret held closest to her heart: 'This is me baring myself, body and soul, flaws and all.' I was proud of her and felt so very privledged that she shared what she held close and intimate with me willingly.

I've been very blessed that so many have shared so much with me, from their smiles to their bodies and souls, fears and perversions, delights and desires and disappointments. I couldn't hope for more from people close to me much less alone from those across the country or around the world. I am thrilled I have so many people wanting to know me, be with me, chat, talk and even - God helping me! - wanting to willingly fuck me senseless and into exhaustion. I have had my heart broken, my body used and enjoyed, desired and wanted, and smiles galore that can't be beaten away from my old fucking face. ~wink!~

Now, this is for the unrealistic idiot here at this chatsite looking for phone sex: don't be UNREALISTIC! Don't hold your hopes to the idea of a diamond-in-the-rough in your on-line searching for perversions and for delights and even a chance to cum or to make your willing partner cum with and for you. When we log-on to places like this website, we're looking for credible delights, willing partners, and to do the things that in the sunlight would make us repellent to society in general. We ask for the most wicked & obscene taboos willingly and love their abuse & misuse adoringly, and ache, craving so much more than can be garnered in a 30 minute (or 2 hour) phonecall from wherever 'Unknown Caller' is calling you from?

First off, taking or offering a call and the intimacy that is required with the moment takes as much bravery as BASE jumping. You're free-falling into nothing but trouble, mischief, pain and few people ever knowing what you're doing or how it's happening. ou can't reason or explain what you say or do in those moments, and you can't hope for anything more than a delighted groan or a wild utterance from your lover, a whisper in the dark, or the words, "Oh God ... that was SO good. I've gotta find you again and do this for much longer."

Second off, if you're looking on-line and not in the clubs, bars, pubs, ice cream socials or anywhere else that people congregate, then you're being unrealistic about YOURSELF! After all, you mush see yourself as some combination between Heath Ledger, John Holmes, Hunter Thompson, and Wilt Chamberlain. I mention all these men in particular because of their individual qualities: Ledger was an amazing actor, and was lost too soon with his contributions to the cinema. Thompson was the voice of America and the down-trodden, reminding us to think when acting, even if we're thinking of something completely abnormal and weird. And Holmes was the icon of all men aching to have a prodigious member as the bait to draw women to his sexual nature and appetite, working in porn with gusto & relish, making all of us envy his skinny build and gigantic cock. And Wilt has claimed to have had more than 20,000 women in his lifetime as a lusting delinquent of the dashing.

Now, if you're going to point a finger, wagging it while ridiculing someone's honesty, then tell me dear reader: 'Have you done anything greater than these men have in life?' Have you fucked that many women or your fist chaffing it sadly & alone? Have you made an impact on life and society, or are you dreaming? Did you find the course of history long and dull, and rewrote it by being involved, or do youskip voting, thinking 'Someone else will do it'? Do you have a book you've written about you or that you wrote yourself?

If you did ANY of those things, then you'd of met a supermodel, a porn star or total uber-babe. You wouldn't need the anominity and quiet of a cyber-sex chatroom or the perversions of a phone sex-call. So, you should NEVER say anything bad about someone not living up to your idiotic standards or to your less-than-perfect self on-line. Don't you EVER hurt or disparage the willing, wanting-to-be-lusted people here or anywhere, you moronic dickheads! I can appreciate the idea that someone sends you a picture that is less than Jenna Jameson against the voice you just heard but there is NO REASON to be cruel or rude! If you're able to send a gorgeous picture of yourself then you're doing it to be seen, to be exhibited and to be open, but not everyone looks like you. So be appreciative that they sent you ANY-fucking-thing!

Don't ever harm the wonderful people willing to share something so personal, so honest, so ready to be wild and free and open. Don't you dare clip their wings. If they are less-than-perfect take a look at yourself in the mirror first before belittling them.

After all, if you could, you wouldn't be here with us.

Read carefully before breaking someone's heart & soul dear caller & pervert:

http://afare24get.blogspot.com/2008/06/on-phone-sex.html

Ciao!

Damned Scared of Zombies

On My Fear of Zombies by J.G.

Few people can imagine themselves writing a treatise on their own fears without coming to some conclusion and change. After I write this I don’t know if I will come to some honest conclusion about my fears or if I’ll just sound a little more paranoid. I keep seeing the many different incarnations of the George Romero movies coming back to bite us on the ass & I wonder, “Is this a foretelling of the future or are we already zombies with our DSL’s, Wi-Fi, Mp3’s and the like swimming in our brains?” But, specifically, what do I dread? Is it the bite, or the rending of my body, my brains being consumed, or is it loss of brains from the cranial extraction? I am going to try answering this in my essay today, which has really taken some time for me to understand in my own soul and dread.

I have seen almost any zombie movie I could find, from the Bela Lugosi “White Zombie”, through Laura Gemser’s, “Erotic Night of the Living Dead” (which should not be seen by anyone! Trust me!), and of course, the Romero flicks giving us the main ideas of the mythos of zombie overruns. Then of course there are always the remakes of each of those movies, which were either close to the amazing fear-factor of the movies or more odd or depressing than the originals. “Night of the Living Dead” the original was good & creepy in a paranoid fashion with a tragedy of the sick (bitten) child versus the blandness of the remake where a woman played out the gun wielding role trying to lead the survivors.



So what am I afraid of? Logic dictates the idea that if can’t be seen or touched it doesn’t exist thus there should be no fear of the unknown or the unseen? And yet, we believe in God & Santa Claus, UFO’s and Atlantis, the Abominable Snowman & ‘la chupacabra’, in some form or another. I am not being sacrilegious or cruel to the idea of faith in our lives, and I still follow my beliefs and the hope of life after death being a glorious paradise where I’ll see my friends & family again. But if I can believe in that, then why can I not in believe in zombies? Why not a reanimated corpse arising from the grave to maul & haunt me? After all, there are cult-like fetish groups more numerous for this freakiness than there are Trekkies and people who dress in Halloween costumes. Some people feel themselves as vampires, or lycanthropes (were-creatures such as wolves, leopards and the like) or any other resurrected from-beyond persona including elves, faeries, and the types of people living from the past into this life. And I don’t just mean people dressing up for Renaissance fairs or such fun: I’m talking real people who feel the life of a real pirate from the days of the Spanish Main is acceptable.



So what am I afraid of? Thus, a definition of the fear is possible is necessary for the resolution of the problem isn’t it? In other words, what is a zombie? According to Dictionary.com website, the word ‘zombie’ means:

1. (In voodoo)
a. the body of a dead person given the semblance of life, but mute and will-less, by a supernatural force, usually for some evil purpose.
b. the supernatural force itself

2. (Informal)
a. a person whose behavior or responses are wooden, listless, or seemingly rote; automaton.
b. an eccentric or peculiar person.

So I am afraid of a lifeless corpse reanimated for evil purposes? I actually am in all honesty. After all, people who believe they are vampires, lycanthropes, or even pirates have one flaw fatal to them and even hopeful to other: rest. When the moon is not full, or when dawn comes, they go back to their own skin, coffins or the pirate flag comes down and the magic goes away. Zombies are not going to rest, moving until their bodies collapse and die or they are killed; they have no will or conscience in any matter, thus they lack a soul, and thus they ARE to be feared.

Something my granddad used to tell us. You know Macumba? Voodoo. My granddad was a priest in Trinidad. He used to tell us, "When there's no more room in hell, the dead will walk the earth." – Ken Foree, -
Dawn of the Dead (1978)



In the old Greek mythos of Hades, which later became the biblical Hell, the word was a listing for a land where the dead roamed after their life. Hell was where people went after death to be punished by the fallen angel Lucifer, who ran the underworld as its' evil god. Thus there is a difference in the placement of the souls: one believing in the Greek philosophies would accept death calmly, knowing there is nothing more than quiet and darkness. In the oldest traditions, death and Hades was where you wanted to go, thus the money placed over the eyes to pay the ferryman Charon to carry the dead over the River Styx. Thus Hades was not bad, just dull. Hell, however, was where the souls of the damned went (and go) because of the punishment of sinners of this life against God & man. In other words, you are harvested from the grave by the soul, and tossed down among the flames to burn and suffer for all eternity. An everlasting heat of chaos & misery for those who have made their life of being cruel or selfish; kind of ‘get what you deserve’ in the end, no matter what happens now.

But zombies have risen from the grave, thus lacking a soul, and thus the punishment of Hell. And if there are that many souls and bodies that the flames overflow, then we’re seriously screwed! You have to accept and admit to yourself, that if the dead rise, then we the living have brought Hell to earth. Did we do it because of amoebas from space, Biblically, or through a misuse of biochemical agents? After all, aren’t those the premises of “Night of the Comet”, “House of the Dead”, or “28 Days Later”? So if the premise of the dead rising being a staple of fiction, shouldn’t that mean that someone somewhere has had this overwhelming them for some time? I Am Legend was more vampires than zombies, but undead is undead, and light is a variant deterrent to a bullet to the head. And, the weakness to the light was the only deterrent, but the overwhelming numbers scared the ungodly crap out of me.

Now what should I fear? A blow to the head will usually end the reign of the creature, but either physical strength of superior marksmanship is a must. After all, when a person is taught to shoot, they are taught to hit the target, just to know they can connect a bullet to a shape. Later you go into smaller targets, like a quarter or a head-shot. But for the average person, to collapse a head would require a shotgun blast to scatter the skull with a minimum of accuracy. After all, a blast would send buckshot everywhere, thus making a grotesque mess but allowing for the all-encompassing head shot. And if not, be honest – have you ever hit someone in the jaw or head? Have you ever rabbit-punched another person in a fight? Or clipped them in the jaw and knocked them down without getting bitten in return? That’s the small fear inside the fight with the zombie: any transmission of blood to your system, such as through saliva, bites, or spitting/spraying would mean eventually you’d turn into one of the undead, a walking corpse, and have no will of your own, destroying those you loved or protected. The only relief of this would be either you being killed or killing yourself. After all, zombies want brains more than flesh, blood or intestines. I have to assume that they want something ‘living’ from the person they’ve killed, such as still-moving corpuscles in the blood, something in the DNA from the heart charging through the dying, or the brains for something in the electro-thingies of the grey matter.

Zombies come from the old religion of voodoo, meaning they have died, and have been raised from the dead to be enslaved by an evil sorcerer. The zombie has no will of its’ own, as does what it has been programmed/ordered to do until such time as it’s released or dies. The case of Clairvuis Narcisse is the most famous one in the current times. He was put under his spell in the mid-60’s, and was released from his captor when the sorcerer died thus not injecting him constantly with the mind-altering drugs needed to keep him under control as a ‘zombie’. This has been the basis of many of the theories in modern times, thus the social commentary angle reaches into movies: ‘we are zombies to our needs, doing without thinking’ as a general idea correlating the movies to our existence. We are social beings, and in that sense, the zombies gather in mobs to attack us, roving and hunting in packs like hyenas. Even if they’re the slow-shambling zombies they will still swarms & overwhelm us as humans, and thus we’re either food or followers. And that’s the other fear: becoming one. After all, wouldn’t that be your personal Hell? Not the damnation of death itself but the lack of rest and peace the body would deserve in its immortal repose? Don’t you want to see your loved-ones again instead of shuffling or competing for sustenance on a daily basis? Don’t we all deserve to die peacefully?

I am still curious what I fear? The attack when they kill me? That I’d have to work at killing them? That there’d be too many, or they’d be too powerful or disgusting? That I could become one, maybe in the ultimate conformist society? After all, they kill and move. No one ever notes them sleeping or hiding in any way, thus making them terrifically frightening. Is it the loneliness that I use now for my art & time away from normal society, or that I can use it as an excuse to keep people at a distance? Could it be a combination of all those things?

Maybe it’s inside me to not want to live lonely, with the dead around me, lifeless people with no dreams or wasted lives. That could be the parallel to living as I do now: I am becoming a zombie as my dreams die a little more each day. I can’t force them onto the world or into people’s hearts and minds. They have to grow like a sapling in the dirt, fertilized with the crap of ennui and destitute feelings. I keep writing these blogs because that seems to be my lot currently: doing but not living, waiting but just hoping, creating but letting it rot in quiet solitude like the flesh of the undead.

Maybe that’s why I fear the zombies more than anything else. Anything else has a weakness; even a serial killer can change, be executed or die at the hands of a bigger predator. Zombies are, period. They exist for the lack of death, and that is our weakness: lacking.

I guess I have good reasons to be scared.




http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zombie_%28disambiguation%29 – zombies everywhere

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zombie - the living dead then & not & where they come from

http://www.zombiesurvivalwiki.com/ - Zombie survival site

http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/zombie - zombie definition

"Zombie" - Dictionary.com - Unabridged (v 1.1). Random House, Inc. 05 Jul. 2008. http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/zombie >
http://www.raptureready.com/ - it’s coming people!

http://www.raptureready.com/rr-special_place_in_hell.html - See A Special Place in Hell

http://www.swagga.com/voodoo.htm - religion not sensationalism

http://www.religioustolerance.org/voodoo.htm - religion with details including the zombie

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clairvius_Narcisse - a real case of ‘zombification’

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Serpent_and_the_Rainbow - sensationalism & fear

http://scifipedia.scifi.com/index.php/I_Am_Legend - the books and movies, dealing more with vampires than zombies but still very creepy.

http://comicbooks.about.com/od/comicbookreviews/fr/iamlegendgn.htm - graphic novel

http://www.randomhouse.com/crown/zombiesurvivalguide/ - Yes, necessary reading today.

http://www.zombiejuice.com/zsurvival/index.html - more to learn: ‘Know your enemy’.

http://www.zombiejuice.com/zombies.htm - message board with lots of answers

Happy 4th of July 2008!!

Many Blessings & Much Love!



All I can hope is you're having fun.



Hopefully, there's no burn ban in your area of the country!





Blessings,


Julian

Failing Life Altogether

Today I went to West Telemarketing, did a data-entry test, and I was unable to see my dreams. I could not see that I am seeing that I have no where else to turn in my life. I have to make new inroads in my dreams or they will turn to dust and be the stagnation of my heart & soul. I don't want to really help people any more; I don't care about a lot of things like many people don't care for me in many ways so I can accept the job I am being offered.

The training starts on the 14th of July, the day after my birthday. Sadly, since my birthday is on a Sunday there will be little for me to do but have breakfast with my family. Last year my 40th birthday, which SHOULD have been a milestone in life, was really a fuckin' millstone, and a waste of time. I hated it, and I hate a lot of people now in my life, wishing to be more alone than I am now.

Will I be forgotten, dust to sand to memory to nothing ... is my life that vacuous that all I have is my blog, my hopes and my dog? Am I prone to living life alone, or is it my destiny? Should I fly someone into my bed from another state, another life, and make myself a little happier than I am now? Or should I be content with the lack of life & love & loyalty that I see from the so-called fucko's i have worked for and with for so very long?!

I have contemplated suicide in the past; but who'll watch my beautiful dog or pay off my bills? My siblings? My ancient parents? I'm better off living so they don't have to suffer for or with my flaws. I was SO fuckin' close to being done with this horse-shit and I could have gone into the limitless ennui of teaching, and been making enough money to move myself and Blondie (my dog) into a small home for her to have a yard and a garage for my hobbies so the house would look like a respectable bachelor lives in it. Who cares if there's frame grindhouse movie posters in the halls, or colorfully garish walls and coffee-cups galore and pictures of my friends and past achievements, such as a few of the comics I published, and some of my favorite paintings though I feel as if Henry Darger lives in my house. I wonder if I'll make my own 'Vivian Girls' saga, found only to make others either question my life or sanity.

I am tired, and my dog is lying on my futon watching 'The Oblongs' on Cartoon Network. I wish I still had some courage left in me but it's been spilt with the blood in brawls, drunken mistakes, wasted tears and wailing to a non-existant entity that I fear and ignore simultaneously.

When I visited West Telemarketing, I was appalled at how people showed up dressed for working in an office environment. They looked quite shabby & grotesque; I'm not wearing designer duds from Abercrombie & Fitch, American Eagle, Old Navy or anything similar. I just made sure my shirt was pressed, I had polished my shoes, and looked like a professional. (See example below for grossness of others at West ... fuckin' vile!) Even after all the hubabaloo, when I returned to school, my classmates told me I looked quite spiffy, which made me smile since it was all the cute girls. ~lol!~

Today wasn't a great day as I've hit the realities of not selling my soul, and the foilbes of being a dreamer and not a profiteer to life. I am prostituting my gift of gab that I'd rather spoil my lovers with on the elderly to have them purchase consumable services.

For now I'll just see what happens.

Always,

Julian

p.s. "Enjoy the music ... it's one of the few things that makes me smile."




Adele - Chasing Pavements Lyrics

I’ve made up my mind
don’t need to think it over
if I’m wrong i am right
don’t need to look no further
this ain’t lust i know this is love

but if i tell the world
I’ll never say enough
cos it was not said to you
and thats exactly what i need to do
if i end up with you

should i give up
or should i just keep chasing pavements
even if it leads no where,
or would it be a waste
even if i knew my place should i leave it there.
should i give up
or should i just keep chasing pavements
even if it leads nowhere

i build myself up
and fly around in circles
waiting as my heart drops
and my back begins to tingle
finally could this be it

or should i give up
or should i just keep chasing pavements
even if it leads no where,
or would it be a waste
even if i knew my place should i leave it there.
should i give up
or should i just keep chasing pavements
even if it leads nowhere

should i give up
or should i just keep chasing pavements
even if it leads no where,
or would it be a waste
even if i knew my place
should i leave it there

should i give up
or should i just keep chasing pavements
even if it leads nowhere

yeaaah ehh

should i give up
or should i just keep chasing pavements
even if it leads nowhere
or would it be a waste
even if i new my place should i leave it there

should i give up
or should i just keep on chasing pavements
should i just keep on chasing pavements

ooooohhh

should i give up
or should i just keep chasing pavements
even if it leads no where,
or would it be a waste
even if i knew my place
should i leave it there

should i give up
or should i just keep chasing pavements
even if it leads no where

http://www.musicloversgroup.com/adele-chasing-pavements-video-lyrics-and-review/

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qz7vGW2_5c0

Dessicated tears

Some days my life feels as if it's spinning out of control, and more than anything, I FUCKIN' LOVE the whilrwind I'm in from day to day. My mind is racing like mad with thoughts as to what I'll do short of prostitution and cyber-begging to maintain my dignity and to stop borrowing money from friends.

Since the university of horse-shit has completely denied my enty in any way I have to have some fucking class to get by in the fall. IF I lose my spot I'll need to reenter and resubmit and reapply for all the crap placements necessary to get in just to fuckin' work like a broke-ass slave for the asswipes at the college & the school I'll be assigned to in the Spring.

GODDAMMIT!!!

I don't want to hear how 'Thing's will come in their time', or 'Patience is a virtue' ... 'Patience my ass, I'm gonna fucking kill something!'

That's my motto.

Gary Jules » Mad World Lyrics

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow

And I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very mad world mad world

Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday
Made to feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen, sit and listen
Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson
Look right through me, look right through me

And I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very mad world ... world
Enlarge your world
Mad world