BEATING MY BUTTON
The past couple of days I've been inordinately horny, maybe because I'm ovulating but more likely because of this:
I've had countless -- fucking COUNTLESS -- strangers ask me to entertain them in various chatrooms with descriptions of what turns me on. "What turns you on baby?" "What do you like sexually?" This is their version of sexual equity and feigning interest in my pleasure and needs. I try to empathize with them as they have never been on the receiving end of such a repetitive, ceaseless hammering of questions. Sometimes I tell them they can find some of that information by reading my journal, checking out my site, or paying for a private phone call or video show with me. Blah blah blah. Other times I tell them the truth and I do so with a vengeance: "I like guy-on-guy action, macho buddies jacking off with each other, guys who will fuck anything and everything from couch cushions to blowup dolls to pvc pipes to microwaved liver. I like easily-dominated big dumb mouth-breathing hulks of guys who stand around drooling with their mouths open. I like guys who can suck their own cocks or at least give it a desperate yearning neck-breaking attempt." Of course, I also like women with hispanic accents, but I don't tell them that part. Anyway, they usually shuttup after that, or try to prompt me towards a direction they find more palatable, "but don't you also like licking your girlfriends' bald pussies?" Snort. Not as much as I'd like to walk in on a guy doing a little up and over dousing his own face with spunk.Wil Wheaton
(of Stand By Me and Star Trek fame) says he never gets tired of answering the same old questions from fans "because even if it's the thousandth time I've been asked a question, it's the first time the person asking it has ever heard the answer." Well folks that's commendable, but I am no Wil Wheaton. I get bored. Quickly.
Dishing out canned answers to every Tom, Dick and Hairy Dick that comes into my chatroom makes me feel like a cafeteria whore slapping green jello with bananas onto an assembly line of anonymous brown lunchroom trays. Oh boy -- look at it jiggle!! But it's so cold and jello green is so not a sexy color. :(
Part of the allure of logging, photographing, and sharing so much stuff on my websites is this delusion I have that once I say something . . . I'll never have to say it again because it's already out there, somewhere, even though I can't remember saying it or where it is and certainly no one ELSE could remember it, but no matter . . . it's my delusion and I'm sticking to it. Another way this delusion operates: I have a few pictures where I look pretty damned good and deep down I feel like . . . okay, I've got the proof that I've looked sexy once or twice, I feel great about it, now where's my flannel robe, the potato chips and is there really a reason why I should brush my hair ever again? Let Tucker
be the sexy one in our duo, I much prefer the role of the fat bastard pimp.
But I digress. What I really meant to say was that I've been horny as hell the past couple of days because of a self-sucking site I found. If you want to read more from me about it, check here
Oh, and tomorrow is my show day, so check here for the times
. I won't be doing a tubtime and chat beforehand this time around, but I do have a couple other chats scheduled this week that I hope will be fun for all concerned, so don't be afraid of dragonlady webwhore . . . just be prepared to contribute more to the conversation than predictabe questions.
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