Saturday, July 06, 2002

My relationship with cecily is difficult to put a name to. She would say constantly "This is not a thing," and I think that's true... it's more of an "anything." She's encouraged me to involve myself with some other charming young lady while she is away in France, and while my libido whole heartedly supports this notion, I'm am restrained by the basic boundaries between men and women. I think Cecily does not realize that I cannot simply go out and have an affair with a girl for a month or two, in the same way that a girl can have an affair with a man for a month or two and then drop him like dirt. Women are evil, foul creatures and I, as a man, am incapable of stooping ot their level... I'm too sensitive to other people and to empathatic to be able to make love to a person and not actually FEEL love for them. Women, however, find it much easier to tear through people's hearts to get satisfaction for their lusty desires. As much as I would love to be make love and be loved by a girl for the next month or so until I reunite with Cecily and St. John's, I cannot because I am utterly incapable of the amorality necessary... perhaps if such a girl came to me, though?

Friday, July 05, 2002

Health News: Athletes Foot has returned with a vengeance. Legs sore for three days after training session on Tuesday. Sleep pattern returned to relatively normal.

Soul News (in three parts):
1. Emotions: Overcome by guilt complexes and anxiety over my attempts to piss of Jesus Freaks. Sought solace in prayer and laughed myself to sleep.
2. Spirit: Lagging a lot. although my work ethic is stanch as ever and I consider myself a good employee, I feel that I lack the power to do the things I really want to do.
3. Reason: Struggling with the reins. Listened to a friend discuss theology last night and my ego was bolstered highly when I saw that his profound insights of the last year were my profound insights when I was twelve years old. Feeling intellectually superior as ever and have been seeking stupid people to swagger my brain around with.

Sports News: Fencing was cancelled tonight because (((CENSORED)))'s thumb is officially broken. Following a blow from (((CENSORED))) a few months ago and (((CENSORED)))'s stubborn return to the fencing strip despite the pain, doctor's today announced that (((CENSORED)))'s thumb ligaments are all torn away and that he must wear a cast and avoid fencing to allow it to heal. Without (((CENSORED))) to train with, Blake Kiltoff and (((CENSORED))) both decided to sit in their respective homes and jerk off to internet porn tonight.

Speaking of internet porn, I had a long discussion with my friends last night after they had finished blowing shit up. Me and Will started by having a really good conversation where he shared his philosophical/spiritual beliefs and arguments, and before I could respond our other dopish friends joined us and insisted on speaking of lighter matters because they wanted to talk about fun things. I stomached my disgust for anyone who does not consider such things a fun topic of conversation, and instead let them carry the talk into the realm of sex (Will shortly left thereafter, mind you). As the conversation dwindled on interestingly but triflingly with me looking at Gay Porn Magazines that Katherine had tucked away in her room, my friend Brian at one point let drop the time he'd been caught at the computer "studying." Ahem. This does not concern me much, but what did interest me was the allusions he made to child pornography and how "hard it is find that stuff."

I myself have never been able to find decent child pornography or snuff, and have to say that I'm sorry for it. If Brian has found some, I wonder if he would remember where it was and if he would share it with me? But all I can do is wonder, really, because there isn't truly a way to go to an acquaintance and ask him "Do you know where I can find some really good child pornography? I'm sick of all these 18 year olds posing as 12 year olds... I want some god damned pre-teen cambodian action, damnit!" It would be sort of like asking an ex-con to hook you up with a C4 specialist and a contortionist cat burgular...

Anyway, child pornography is over rated and is only interesting because of the mystique that lingers around its name. If you really think about it, no one wants to have sex with really young kids, because that would be bad sex! I don't care how attractive they might be, that's just eye candy: as far as skills go, they got ziltch. Who wants to have bad sex, I ask you? No one! People just think of pedophilia as interesting for the same reasons that they get interested in homosexualtiy, animal porn, snuff, scat and Asian girls: I call it the Exotica Factor. It's the bizarre appeal of forbidden fruit; that irresistable pull of that which you cannot have. Asian girls are regarded generally as being hotter than white girls. Why? 'Cause they are exotic! They are mysterious! They are different and from a different world where white penises are as common as blonde hair and as unheard of as forks! Guys love asian chicks 'cause they know subconsciously that they aren't supposed to get asian chicks. For the same reasons, people love pedophila and all that nasty, pointlesss smut because they have been ingrained with the idea that they are not supposed to have it. By telling people constantly that pedophilia is wrong, people become more interested in it.

It's the same with penile size, too. Girls always complain about how much time men spend worrying over their size and constantly remind men that size doesn't matter. But by going around talking about size and even saying that it doesn't matter, men are constantly reminded of the issue of size and are convinced it matters because people spend so much time talking about it (even though they spend that time saying it doesn't matter).

Anyway, my penis size is Ninja-cool (note the reference to And I'm all for pedophilic/snuff-ic/and animally-pornographic fantasies anyday. Nothing floats my boat like fourteen year old chicks having sex with pythons... ooh yeah. You all think I'm joking too.

Anyway, as the good Bible probably says somewhere, Judge me and ye judge yourself... fuckwad.

Wednesday, July 03, 2002

Sleeping during the day can really fuck your temporal perceptions. I got to sleep around 1 AM last night (this morning?) and then I had to get up at 4 AM this morning (last night?) to go and open Starbucks at 5 AM. Then I got home around 11 AM today (yesterday?) and went back to sleep and got up around 8 PM tonight (this morning?). Now I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight, which means I'll be real tired and cranky tomorrow night or I may fall asleep.

My friend Will sent an e-mail to me and a bunch of his Jesus-Freak Friends, and now his JFFs are emailing crap to everyone he sent things to, which includes me! So I got a long letter from some dope named Lee about God, love and forgiveness and the trials we face each day. Don't get me wrong, I dig Jesus. I'm all about Jesus, man. JZ is the dude. I don't care if he was white or black or a man or a woman or a sheep fucking, time-traveling robot, the teachings of Jesus are what are important. I love Jesus, I love Buddha, I love Ghandi, and Confucius and Muhammed and Abraham and Bodhidarma and the fucking Dalai Llama. Secular Spiritualism rocks my world, man, and I can't get enough of liberal spiritual respect, freedom of iconic worship and freedom of thought! Ooh yeah.

Anyway, about Will's bitch ass Jesus loving friends (JFFs). I've decided that the best way for me to respond to a letter from a total stranger about God and love and spiritual harmony and the trials of life is to write a letter that takes the opposite stance on things. So here's a sample of Will's JFF's letter and then a sample of my letter:

"...I just wanted to write all and let you all you know that I'm thinking of and praying for you... Life is good, God is fully encountering my heart and the more it happens, the more I realize how little I am and how thankful I am for the examples many of you have been in my life... To all of you, my faithful friends: be well and pursue the heart of God. Let yours open up and forget that we're here and there's so much trying to bring us down..."

FROM "Blake":

"...The only religious experiences I've ever had are analogous to the birth of Christ, insofar as a virgin was spreading her legs and moaning..."

This must be the most thoroughly offensive and assholish thing I've ever done to people I don't know very well, and I feel kind of guilty. Still, people should know better than to try and subject me to their silly religious babbling if they don't know me.

I think I'll be off, now.

Sunday, June 30, 2002

Strangely, all my insecure jests about Cecily having a love tryste in France have proven somehow true. I am certainly not offended or upset, since I was for the most part expecting it, as she herself told me that I cannot expect fidelity from her. I'm glad she and I have such an honest relationship, full of understanding and a total lack of blame... or something like that. I'm reminded a lot of "Emanuelle," which focuses a lot on a woman who is married but gets into a lot of love affairs and then tells her husband all about them while they make love. Totally awesome. But I can't stand sloppy seconds.

I saw the King Pigeon the other day. It was remarkable, I never knew there was a pigeon hierarchy, but there is. This old, grey pigeon that I mistook for a deformed seagull for a few seconds is the King Pigeon! He's the size and color of a seagull, but still a pigeon, and he pushes the other pigeons around and off from his perch high on the bridge, from where he rules with a dominating gaze over his kingdom. It was totally sweet and I peed my pants.

I'm going to do something totally random and let my friend Will write a paragraph or something:

Yeah, so here I am, writing a paragraph for Blake's fucking website. He said he would bring over some whores and crack and stuff, but nooooo. "The whores wouldn't come," he says. And all I get for my trouble is getting to write this little dinky paragraph. You know, I really wish I were Irish-Italian-Jewish-Polish-Catholic. Then I would be able to joke about myself and people would actually get it. It sucks to be a Scottish Protestant. I have virtually nothing to mock myself about that people who don't know me would get. I think that perhaps humor is like heroin. Once you get started, you are hooked. You make 'em laugh once, and then you crave that all the more, and you pursue the feeling of people laughing at your jokes incessantly, to the point where you would do anything for just a mild smattering of laughter. And now Blake is trying to watch public access porn on my TV. It's rather odd. For all of you who are offended by Blake's negligence towards his duties of cleaning up his dog's feces, WHO CARES??? Okay, so I ranted, and it probably wasn't funny, but what can I say? I'm addicted. Here's Blake again. Tell him that I don't need to shave my goatee if I don't wanna', so he's just going to have to make do.

I'm not going to read what Will wrote until I'm done, I think.

Anyway, I've come up with a solution for my women troubles. Women scare me. I need a way to avoid all the discomforts of being around women, and I figure the best way for me to do it is to declare my homosexuality. Since I'm not actually a homosexual, I won't ever have to have sex with anyone, and since I can't have sex, I won't have to worry about it anymore. In theory, I should therefore act twice as cool around women and thus get a lot more action.

Health News: Finger sore from yesterday's splinter. Have to pee a lot lately, mainly because my sugar levels have been running high. My hands are slightly blistered from all the work I did yesterday, and I will torment them some more tomorrow. I'm filled with an insatiable desire for random porn sex, that is, the sex seen in pornos, but I'm also filled with revulsion at the idea. Such a sad, painful mixture of desires in my soul, how do I continue to exist?

My friends just discovered Japanese Anime on the television, so I'm going to go now.