Guess What? Happy Halloween!

 

 

Happy Halloween Everyone!  Hope you're dressing up, 

getting down, and finding more treats than tricks 

in your spell & goodie bags.

Love always,

~ J ~

p.s. "here's a website to peek into for your Halloween cards & notes:  Halloween Cards

2 new poems - Chalice & Reaching Out

Chalice

Drinking from you

drinking of you

A chalice of the divine

Ambrosia

I wanted to taste you desperately

Some days the hallucination

hazes my mind

And there is my chalice again

Photos make me drool

Thoughts make me quiver

Heavenly

Wishing my face was sticky again

Reaching Out

The chase begins slowly

“Do you wish to send this

message?” – the pop-up asked.

Damned right, you think

You’re fishing; no bait no

dynamite but hopefully a hook

You’re looking for lust

You’re looking for pleasure

Eros

You’re looking for a memory

Orgasm

Delight

Existence

Maybe one day someone will

be reaching out too.

End Ain't Coming

I have been hearing a lot of my family, friend 

and even the students griping about 

the end of the world, and I have proof 

that there's nothing 

to worry about for a while.

If you look at the expiration date, it's August 30, 2013.

That means if everyone was worried about the 

date of 12/12/12 they 

can all relax.  

After all, the honey bear told me so.

downstream

I don’t write a lot of movie reviews, because my movies fall into three categories: Classics, like The Wild Bunch, The English Patient, High Noon, Calito’s Way and so forth.  Exploitation/Bizarre, such as Salon Kitty, Salo, El Topo, The Killer, The Tin Drum, Caligula and items laced with subtitles and softcore (and sometimes hardcore) erotica or gruesome violence.  And of course, Cheesy, meaning poor special effects, bad scripts and few redeeming talents, such as The Green Slime, ReAnimator, Dawn of the Dead, Conan the Barbarian, The Land that Time Forgot and so forth.

Despite the categorization, I always enjoy all these movies, and try diversifying myself with every genre available, such as action (The Dark Knight, Aliens), comedy (The Hangover, Blazing Saddles) and a foreign movies (Let the Right One In, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo) to make sure I sample everything and am honest as possible.  After all, a good movie should take you on a trip, emotionally, sensually, and mentally, allowing you to feel or be someone, something or somewhere else within the confines of your seat.

Our hero must make a decision, and live with it, and the movie/script can’t be so bleak as to leave you wishing you’d never seen the damned thing.  And, a good movie, even one as bleak as something like Goodfellas, Scarface, or even Pretty in Pink, has to be able to take you to some redemption; someone needs to get the girl, walk off into the sunset, rescue their loved ones, make the most noble sacrifice for the welfare and future of the world, or escape all oppression and live happily ever after. 

That’s time you’ll never get back, ever.

That being said, this is a SPOILER ALERT.  If you have even the mildest interest in seeing this movie, do NOT read my review.

I like dogs.  And I’m a bit of a conspiracy theorist, watching for the “New World Order” or “Zombie Apocalypse”, either of which could occur.  Don’t forget, at my age, I was watching to the sky for the twilight’s last gleaming being a part of the old Cold War ideals, leading us to believe we could survive a nuclear war.  Whoosh, then comes the Day After, just like the name of the movie.  Now I think our end will occur politically or environmentally, not at our own hand.

But I could be wrong.

Downstream takes place after some end-of-the-world scenario plays out.  A young boy witnesses the brutal killing of his father and the rape and killing of his mother; his father (not surprisingly) is a leading scientist trying to convince the world of their need to change to more environmentally friendly fuels before the world’s resources run out.  Some thugs, recently deputized as law men, come to collect whatever fuels he may be working on.  At this moment Dad is working on a modified Jeep that can run on any kind of fuel.  So … Dad resist, and gets killed outright; the asshole thugs attack mom, who’s completely unarmed (Hasn’t she heard of womens’ lib?) and defenseless, and thus brutalized and killed.  The boy (with his puppy) sees all this happen, and grabs a small backpack and the dog and drives off in dad’s modified Jeep. 

(Hole 01 – this is all seen in flashbacks, as the story jumps back & forth throughout his memories, sometimes a little unclear of having making me wonder, why didn’t the asshole deputies ransack the barn where the Jeep was and take it?  Maybe the little boy’s a genius and was able to have it running well.)

The little boy grows into a young man, and the puppy becomes an adorable small dog with short legs & a long body.  The boy carried a huge revolver sans ammo, an iPod, and an SD card/flash drive of (what are alluded to) family photos around his neck.  Moreover, apparently, the world has a shortage of many things: food/meat (meaning animals), fuel and ammunition, and oddly enough, women.  Meat is being made of humans or with that allusion as there are no cattle, chickens, or other farm animals anywhere.  The Boy is the only one with a dog throughout the movie, and that has a sad ending too.  He escapes these ruffians in a emptied garage, and kicks down a stack of old magazines that have his fathers’ political nemesis, and possibly, the man who sent the evil deputies.

Underscoring all this is the idea of there being a paradise called Plutopia, where everything runs on cold-fusion, meaning it’s not using any resources.  He finds a brochure that tells about it, and it becomes part of his reason for existence and continuing.

In a town he sees a girl being led by a pimp (with a fuzzy suit and zebra-striped hat) and she catches his eye.  After he takes a leak, he finds that she’s being attacked so he rescues her, and thus we find a freeze-frame shot of his expressed anger: mouth open, subject attacked, and him victorious.  Scary, really.  So now he has the girl, and takes her to a slave trader, who brands her, tries to rape her, and all this was a misleading to steal food and actually keep her safe.

(Hole 02 – If he’s strong enough to knock out a guard, he’s strong enough to kill him by breaking his neck, steal his weapons and clothing and take whenever he wishes very stealthily.  I mean, now’s a time for ninja skills.)

He steals the woman, the food, but no weapons, no fuel and reiterates to her this surrender was just a ruse.  She tries running off but refuses but he convinces her to come back with him to a sanctuary where there is fresh food and calm refuge.  Elder Daniel (played by Lenny Von Dohlen) gives them space and calm; Sarah, the girl, can’t stay as she’s coughing up blood, another allusion to disease since there isn’t a way to diagnose or treat it, and more than likely, it’s fatal.  Along with the harboring of Wes (the boy) and Sarah (the girl) there are others such as a madman named Eddie, played amazingly by character actor Billy Drago.

 

Sarah escapes on an ATV, and Wes finds her later on, as do a group of soldiers, heavily armed, and ready for anything.  They’re stopped, checked, and found by the slave-trader after he kills all the people who gave them refuge the night before.   The soldiers are all killed, and the slave-trader is run down in a final savage duel between his Jeep and the slave-trader’s anger/frustration.

(Hole 03 – Everyone’s dead & there are 2 vehicles; why not load up on weapons, functional or not, ammo, clothing, and fuel, and anything else of use in the vehicles instead of howling into the wind?)

 

As Wes & Sarah resume their journey, they find a café in the middle of nowhere, and are given meat for dinner.  The owner, a man who looks like an evil version of Chef Boyardee, is calling for a payment for the meal; and refuses to allow the dog in the café.  Sarah offers herself, and Wes investigates, finding a machine similar to the one running the Jeep, using human blood as fuel.  He (or Sarah, it’s a little twisted as to whether it’s a dream/fantasy or it actually occurred) kills the owner, butchering him in his own kitchen, and they depart.  They park, and Sarah rest, and he talks to his beloved dog, Lugosi.  He tells the dog he has to make a decision and he can’t look back once he makes his choice.

Sarah sleeps soundly, dreaming of her husband who left her trying to find a better life before she became human currency, and feels him with her making love to her.  Actually she awakes to find Wes riding her, either trying to please her or replace the ghost of her missing husband.  And she lets him continue, until they fall asleep.  When she arises, she calls for the dog, and learns that he killed it for a meal for her, and fuel for the jeep.  Sadly, Sarah begins having a coughing fit, and Wes tries racing her to their Plutopia, but instead stop, and she offers him her body, her blood, so he can continue his journey.

 

(THAT’S what fuckin’ killed it for me; he butchered his little dog for nothing really.  Also, if you know the Jeep can run on blood, why not empty the damned corpses in the desert and the owner at the café kitchen?)

Sarah dies, and he buries her, draping a cross on her grave, tracing the body beneath into the sand, and walking, then climbing a small mountain to find Plutopia actually exist.  But, he’s shot in the head by a sentry robot similar to ED 209 from RoboCop.

Too many themes ran into the story: cannibalism, environmental issues, human choices, growing up, militant madness, slave trading, and it seems as if they tried to give every small character a point of view or a novel approach while still leaving them two-dimensional.  I think this could have been much better in some ways, and at the same time, there was not enough information or subtle foreshadowing to the story.  Too many flashbacks kept it from being comprehensible, and it’s not enough to keep me wanting to see it again & again unlike some of the below mentioned movies:

• Book of Eli
• Soylent Green
• Mad Max
• THX-1138
• A Boy & His Dog
• Day After Tomorrow
• Panic in the Year Zero
• The Omega Man

And if you’d like to know more about the end-of-the-world genre try some of these links & a few searches of your own.  Maybe then you can make your own comparison of the movie with your own favorites.

Dystopian Film Collection - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_dystopian_films

Find it for yourself or see what you think with a little research - http://www.downstreamthemovie.com/

Downstream @ IMDB website - http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1229236/

On their webite was a page where you (the viewer) could discuss what you liked about the movie.  I don’t know if they’re looking for a critical analysis, but since there were only 7 notes to date I figured I’d better keep my mouth shut.  Also, in searching for reviews on other websites, there were few actually reviews as the production group seemed to sponsor its own publicity.  The producer kept reposting the teaser writing on other sites, and this makes me suspicious as to who’s actually seen the movie. On the other hand, I have to give them credit in doing better and more than I’ve done so far with my dreams so good for them. 

NSFW Demotivational Posters

NSFW Demotivational Posters

 

Now this comes from another blog, a collection of NSFW (Not Safe For Work if you didn't know the acronym already) and I get the chuckles when I go here.  The images are wishful & lurid, so they tickle more than just my funny bone.

Here's my favorite so far.

Take care.

A thought today for when I grow up

Lyrics | The Pussycat Dolls lyrics - When I Grow Up lyrics

I wonder if I am ever gonna grow up.

Spent part of my weekend at the Live Oak Toy & Collectors show. Bought a Star Trek phaser from a chubby Darth Maul sans make-up, but a nice guy nonetheless.

This is the name of another blog I am reading, called Never Growing Old, and seeing that blogger modeling and happy with her age and dreams, like the many of you who inspire me daily, I KNOW I am not gonna change.

I'll always be broke somehow. But money comes & money goes.

Friends & lovers will always mean more than flashy moments. I have to count my blessings for the ones I've had and the ones I have now.
And if you want to see some of my best friends here on-line, just peek at the blogs I read to the right, and see what makes me happiest.

There's a whirlwind at the center of my mind and heart; I have to do my best to ride that tornado across the carnage and chaos, and make the best of the force and wild winds.

Some days I want to drink. Some days I want a cigarette. Some days I want the worst, most perverted sex imaginable. Other days I want to go to church, smile at everyone and enjoy whatever makes that tiny part of my heart smile.

Spin, spin, spin ... let's see where I land.

Good night & thank you for listening.

See you in a few days

I'm gonna disable/disconnect my Wi-Fi for a few days so I can write without looking for hopelessness or having it cross my path and making me feel sad.

I am sad.  I know why I'm sad: because I'm not where I was before.  But right now I am going to concentrate, make time, and leave the pain/idiocy behind if possible.  I can't heap my disappointments and failures up and wish for something to happen, and I can't give my best to a part-time dream.

I'm up too late for a job that requires alertness at 7am & for me to be on my feet 9 hours a day.  I can't addict (or grow fatter) from too many sodas & too much coffee.  I keep promising to write but procrastinate, making myself an on-line stalker almost.

That's no way to live.

Things have to change.  I'll keep trying. 

Thank you for listening.

Always,

Julian

Lost Dog - Lost Person (and update/epilogue at bottom)

A dog is one of the remaining reasons why some people 

can be persuaded to go for a walk.  

~ O.A. Battista

Above quote found here

My dog hopped the fence this evening when I came home after work.  My family chides me about him always hopping the damned chain-link fence, and his wanderlust.  I'm angry at myself, having been too weak to help tie him out to his tree so he could be safe, or walking him down the road with my other dogs, knowing where he was at all times.

 

I hate that I've been under the scrutiny of the local thugs/gangs, hearing the blasting of raucous music, wishing my German Shepard mutt were home at my feet with my Lab mutt, both gnawing on rawhide chips, watching television with me.

Many people run away or ignore me in my life, and I (in turn) do the same to others.  I think I am a rude, conceited, hurtful person, and maybe that's why I can't have the ones I love the most in my life.  Distance, time, and personal failure and melancholy all anchor me to Texas, and keep me feeling mediocre.

 

Recently, I was at a school with another writer I know, visiting a mutual friend of ours.  When he saw all the kids being receptive to me, he said, "Dude, maybe this is your calling: to be a teacher."

That kinda hurt.

If I wanted that I wouldn't write erotica, or sketch, or take pictures, or voice myself aloud.

I lost my dog today.

I've lost more of me than I can imagine, and it all leave me standing there looking foolish, being hopeful, watching, walking and searching for someone that maybe doesn't want me. 

Just like humans.

Just like lovers.

Just like dreams.

It's 930pm Texas time.

I'll be up in my small living room with my blonde Lab mutt, the one who's been loyal to me, and loves me. 

I just wish I had that other love too.

Maybe this is all I deserve.

I know I wanted to put a collar on someone, and a ring on them.  But that will never happen.

People avoid me for such reasons.  Maybe I have to accept these reasons, or the voice of the universe and stop trying.

Again, too many maybe's.

Adios for now.

******

Epilogue: He's home.  My Shepard mutt is home; he just hopped the fence.  Since I live at the outskirts of the city when he hops a fence he could be in another county in a day.  If he ran in another direction he could be one of the many dead strays I see on the major highways around town.  I am gonna have to try watching him, keeping him close, and (sadly) tying him out for a while just to keep him safe.  Granted that means more walks as a family, but that could be beneficial.  I guess all I can do is to keep trying ... "

"Thanks for listening."

******

p.s. "The above image isn't my dog but one similar.  I can't seem to find his pics on my files, so they could be on a flash drive or my spare drive.  And that's not my subdivision but you can imagine the kind of walking I was doing tonight."

Bytes of Reality (instead of Reality Bytes, that's so trite)

I keep wondering what to share here.  My commentators have come and gone in all forms: former lovers, acquaintances, friends-with-benefits, people passing by, other bloggers, people wondering what the Hell I wrote when I posted the link elsewhere.

Some days I'm not sure if writing anything is a solution to my current life, my current situation, or my current fears.  In working on being honest, one thing people may wonder about is my appearance.  Now some people have met me, and some have met me in real-life.

When I see ASL (age, sex, location) I usually respond: 43, 6'2" Male Hispanic, Latino, Texas ... and in detail ... black hair, brown eyes, dark skin, tall, broad shoulders.

  So what comes up in peoples minds?  Probably something like this:

And in actuality I see something more like this.

Now if you look at both men there's differences.  Antonio Banderas (AB) is a stud; Alfredo Molina (AM) is a dud, or more precisely, a fuddy-duddy.

AB smiles & girls swoon.  AM smiles & scares small children.

AB dances & spins in tailored outfits.  AM wears loose clothing.

AB is shirtless, which makes the audience gasp, even the men.  AM is shirtless, and everyone chuckles, even the men.

AB is an action hero in a movie.  AM is the scientist/lawyer/artist/friend in a movie.

AB gets the girl; even breaking her heart she'll still love his charm.  AM comforts the heartbroken girl; if he breaks her heart he's scolded or chided for being so ruthless.

Since I feel more AM than AB, I limit my images.  I post things, places, moments, but rarely my face.  I posted my cock (don't laugh) on a fetish website and was told "That's not a pretty image."

That's why I'm a little calm about it all; one day maybe ...

For now I'll express myself through my words and keep posting images from time to time.

Maybe I'll be in them one day.

Maybe I'll feel more AB than AM.

~ Adios ~

I Write Like A Girl

So I went visiting one of my favorite blogs & found this link to analyze your blog: http://urlai.com/Default.aspx

And I entered my web address/ URL into the given space (see image above) and found this to be written of me: 

"afare24get.blogspot.com is probably written by a female somewhere between 18-25 years old. The writing style is personal and happy most of the time." 

When these words came up I was flaberghasted!  

I write like a girl!

Zing!

Now last year I lured a young angel into a few heated chats of the most erotic kind, and she wanted to know more.  "Look into my blog," I said.

"Oh Christ," she replied a day later.  "You've got too much madness on your hands & I don't want to deal with that. Sorry but I won't be in touch again."

Maybe I should have taken this analysis a few months AGO to get something like "... is probably written by a grouch between 30-60 years old. The writing style is nihilistic and depressed and this blog should be monitored by Homeland Security."

Personally I thought the Captain America image on my web browser was kinda butch.  Anyway ... here are the results.  Enter your own blog at your own risk.

Blessings.

Julian

Immediate Gratification

Just so you'll know now: if you're ever wondering what I am glancing at, reading, or saving for my own selfish (personal or wicked) needs then all you need do is look here at what caught my eye.

http://twitter.com/afare24get

Or click the image below:

Now my Tweets are protected, so you gotta let me know it's you, one of my faithful readers (or anonymous faithful readers as I like you too) so I can make sure to bring you in to my wicked thoughts and damaged mind.

Have a wonderful weekend!

Bad Chileans

Having lunch with some of the teachers at one of the schools I work at, one of them mentioned, "Did you hear the girlfriend went to visit that miner?"  Now to me that wasn't a big deal, until the words, "Yeah, but the wife's no prize either.  She won't visit him as he ascends.  Said she 'needs to maintain her dignity'."

So I looked on-line with the words Chilean, miner, mistress, girlfriend, wife, rescue and sure enough found the name: Yonni (Jonny) Barrios, a 50 year old miner who, with the others, was trapped underground for 2 months +/- and were recently rescued by a gathered effort of engineers from around the world.

Then I learned there was more than one person with a little love interest going round & round.  

And if you look at the video you're gonna see a very hesitant man kissing the woman he secretly loves/lust for and has caused great ... what's the word? Humiliation? Chaos? Sadness? Anger? Laughter?

As the teachers began telling their tales of woe, and what they'd do with celebrity cheaters like Jesse James or Brad Pitt, Tori Spelling or anyone else causing destruction, I kept wondering, "Why not leave?"

Sometimes, it's the money. Sometimes the promise of anew life. Sometimes it's fear, which is a great motivator. It could be the same reason someone got married in the first place, and now feels obligated or stuck.

I've been here, both ways, and I don't know what to think. Part of me wishes Yonni get the path he wants either with the wife or the mistress, and part of me wants to see if there's gonna be a car-chase or crime of passion.

I don't know where to take this blog tonight, or maybe it's too late & I need some rest before my work day tomorrow. 
All I can say is "Good luck Yonni .. and whomever else is cheating.  
Choose carefully."

For more info try here

Try here too

Here's a timeline with his picture

Yahoo's images from mine here

Last one kissing the g/f

Pulling out

Today, dear readers, I wrote something.  I wrote at least 450 - 550 words for a project I've procrastinated on since earlier this summer.  Someone trusted me, and I poked them in the eye with my laziness and conceit, and I am trying to make amends, finishing what I've started.

Gotta pull my head outta my ass!

Period.

Part of my creativity has been the ego-kisses, the little pats on the back, the acknowledgments that I know what the hell I am doing with words and my imagination.  For sometime I thought that was gone, and I have been on my own self-pitying banquet.

I am still trying very hard to make my dreams occur, to arise and to flourish. But I keep backsliding into the need to hear "You're so damned good Julian" and all the other nonsense which is now holding me back. There are some things I have to accept, some eventualities, and be done.

Move on - fuck off. Come closer again and feel what was once in my heart. I have to keep saying it, because if I don't I'll fall back into my old traps and just ignore the request and promises I made to those loyal to me.

Life isn't gonna change without a little more pain, and life isn't gonna get better without the effort.

So here comes a little more effort.

I was reading a blog and found this song; it made me smile, and I hope it does the same for you.

Lucky Man Lyrics

Artist(Band):The Verve

Happiness

More or less

It's just a change in me

Something in my liberty

Oh, my, my

Happiness

Coming and going

I watch you look at me

Watch my fever growing

I know just where I am

But how many corners do I have to turn?

How many times do I have to learn

All the love I have is in my mind?

But I'm a lucky man

With fire in my hands

Happiness

Something in my own place

I'm stood here naked

Smiling, I feel no disgrace

With who I am

Happiness

Coming and going

I watch you look at me

Watch my fever growing

I know just who I am

But how many corners do I have to turn?

How many times do I have to learn

All the love I have is in my mind?

I hope you understand

I hope you understand

Gotta love that'll never die

Happiness

More or less

It's just a change in me

Something in my liberty

Happiness

Coming and going

I watch you look at me

Watch my fever growing

I know

Oh, my, my

Oh, my, my

Oh, my, my

Oh, my, my

Gotta love that'll never die

Gotta love that'll never die

No, no

I'm a lucky man

It's just a change in me

Something in my liberty

It's just a change in me

Something in my liberty

It's just a change in me

Something in my liberty

Oh, my, my

Oh, my, my

It's just a change in me

Something in my liberty

Oh, my, my

Oh, my, my

Lyrics on this site here

Video here Embedding Disabled

Enjoy.

Very Superstitious

In the past I've written about this wicked device, known as the Magic 8 Ball. This is a small black globe colored like a billiards ball with a number 8 in the middle of a white circle on a black ball.

So tonight I am establishing a Magic 8 Ball for everyone to use as they please whenever they come to this blog. Sadly, it will have some advertising but you get what you pay for, right?




Blogs with the Magic 8 Ball - 01 02

Enjoy & tell me what your future holds when you can.

Always,




Julian