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push ups

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#makara

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Personally I think threesomes are just dandy. A little bit of pressure's taken off you, so you feel more relaxed, and there's more opportunity for improv, so the whole thing's just more fun, from first innuendo to last orgasm. It's something of a strange dark mirror to how I feel about conversations: A sense of dread washes over me whenever I realize I'm in an odd-numbered group. There are many ways to communicate, however, fortunately.

I had a very nice threesome last night with two good friends. Several meetings took place, a few glasses and disposable cups were filled and drained, a car was driven here and there, music was played, and then I was on my knees in my living room sucking my best buddy's dick while the other copain looked on from the sofa. Then we moved to somewhere more shaded, shed our clothes, formed a very close circle, skin touching skin touching skin, all members erect and throbbing, mouths put to use kissing, biting, tasting flesh, moaning. Three sublunary bros engaged in the carnal rite which is our birthright. Adamite tongues giving and receiving pleasure alike. Saliva, lube, and precum flowed freely. At turns I held two dicks in my hands, then on my knees to lick and suck, then pulled back onto my bed and penetrated from below. A riot of sensations and impressions precludes a more ordered recollection: For half an hour or so I was mere feeling and lust. I like to think a good time was equally had by all, and I'm probably right.

Hope it happens again. And again. And again.

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Goofy Hiker

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Pigs, they tend to wiggle when they walk* The infrastructure rots And the owners hate the jocks** With their agents and their dates If the signatures are checked You'll just have to wait! And we're counting up the instants that we save Tired nation so depraved From the cheap seats, see us Wave to the camera It took a giant ramrod To raze the demon settlement*** But high-ho, Silver, ride High-ho, Silver, ride Take another ride to see me home Listen to me I'm on the stereo, stereo, oh My baby, baby, baby, baby, babe Gave me malaria, hysteria**** What about the voice of Geddy Lee How did it get so high? I wonder if he speaks like an ordinary guy?***** I know him, and he does! And you're my fact-checkin' cuz (Aww)****** Well, focus on the quasar in the mist The Kaiser has a cyst And I'm a blank want list The qualms you have and if they stick They will drown you in a crick In the neck of a woods******* That was populated by Tired nation on the fly Everybody knows advice That was given out for free******** Lots of details to discern Lots of details But high-ho, Silver, ride High-ho, Silver, ride********* Takes another ride to make me Oh, get off the air I'm on the stereo, stereo, oh My baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, babe Gave me malaria, hysteria**********

*While on a run this morning, I motivated myself by imagining all the hateful things I sometimes want to say to clients at work. I never realized how abjectly pathetic poverty can make a person. Miserable, yes, short-sighted, of course, but this execrable and stupid and mean-spirited? My leftist worldviews took a huge blow as they scraped against my ego in order to save my psyche from despair. Fortunately I'll be leaving this god-sucking state soon for septentrional climes to study Mississippian archaeology and Jesuit chroniclers, which is really more my dharma than administering to the wretched of the Earth in their learned helplessness. I'm a risible socialist but I'll make an excellent shitlib, by golly.

**Before my run this morning I went out for a coffee and a snack. In the bathroom of the coffeeshop I checked my hair in the mirror and instinctively did a bicep flex with my left arm. I grinned at my progress. I suddenly remembered that my first brush at the whole jock cosplay thing was in college at a birthday party: The birthday boy insisted that everyone dress up as a Pokémon ("Gen I only" he declared, very serious). I chose Slowbro, and made it a fratty look with a pink polo and a backward baseball cap from a thrift shop in Little Five Points. It didn't leave much of an impression on me, but it was a fun time (one guy went so far as to paint his entire body blue to imitate Poliwrath). Anyway my bis are coming along nicely, just need to get some more protein in me and push past this current plateau, bro.

***I can't imagine what Malkmus meant by this ; - )

****I've never had an STD in my life despite all the sex I have. Makes me feel invincible. Don't even know why I'm taking Prep, which gave me a tummyache the first week. To assuage the fears of those who remember other times, I suppose. There's a good or at least thought-provoking essay I read once about Dahmer and the AIDS crisis. Another time.

*****For the longest time as a teenager I kept my voice artificially high, speaking in an odd falsetto because I was so afraid of growing up. I remember as a young child crying after I asked my father why his chest was so hairy and he said it was because he was a man, and I would be hairy like a gorilla some day too. Life is full of funny ironies. I dropped the charade after I ditched school one day to have sex with some guy with a pet wolfdog and got caught because my friend forgot that I wasn't going to give her a ride that day and so she called my house to ask if I was alright. Imagine the Twin Peaks theme playing when the school told my mother over the phone that I never came in that day. He lived way out in the woods so my phone didn't have any reception either.

******RIP Liza. I wish I had done more to help you. Sorry. My mother said you were a bad person because she was abused by her first husband. Apparently he's from the city I'm moving to. The more I learn about my family history, the more skeptical I become.

*******Is there a name for this poetic device? If not, let's make one up. Something Greek.

********Many of the older men I fuck keep giving me various kinds of unsolicited advice with various levels of seriousness. I think they think it's their duty. (Not in the Kantian sense, of course.) There's a line in Alice Isn't Dead about this, sort of.

*********The Lone Ranger and D.B. Cooper have a few things in common. Why don't you spend some time thinking about that?

**********This little gimmick you're reading here being inspired by David Foster Wallace, of course. I was rereading The Pale King earlier this year; despite finding his New Sincerity schtick grating at (not few) times, he really was one of the greats. Being an actual litbro as like a new persona when I start my PhD could be fun, showing off my muscles while discoursing about Perec. It's a nice fantasy that with a bit more effort and panache I could convincingly pull off. It's sad and scary, too, with him, to think that you can be that successful and beloved in your own way and it still not be enough.

#ydy'r dwrgi'n dwp?

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Red-winged Blackbird in the rain

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Misty morning. Värmland, Sweden (March 22, 2024).

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Eurasian Oystercatcher

Despite its name the Oystercatcher does not eat oysters. However, it does eat mussels and cockles.

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WHAT KISS??? ELABORATE!!!

The one between Ziggy Pálffy & Travis Green after the former scored on the power-play against NJ.

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Could this be something? No, probably not. The closer you look, the more you hallucinate.

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The right eye...

TWIN PEAKS pilot (1990) x

MULHOLLAND DR. (2001) x

INLAND EMPIRE (2006)

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#Judith Freeman

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Sorry that I’ve been kinda absent but….

I drew something

It’s Huehuecoyotl(way-way-coh-YOH-tl) in the style of ENNEAD by Mojito, good read but for mature audiences.

Huehuecoyotl or the Very Old Coyote or the Very Wise Coyote is the god of Song, Dance, Story, Masculine Beauty, and Mischief. He is a shapeshifting type of god and supposedly had a high libido, think sort of Zeus kind of high, and was said to have no preference, anyone was fair game.

Comment if you’d like to see more Gods or Goddesses from the Nahuatl Mythology in this style😌