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hormones

13 May

I’m thankful I’m no longer a prisoner to my penis. I can lead a somewhat normal life. No more excusing myself from the dinner table to come back smelling like Vaseline. No more pulling my pud in the Burger King walk-in freezer, or using anything I can get my hands on for lube, shampoo, Ben Gay,etc.
At this point in my life I’d be perfectly okay with a porn collection, video game system, a nice glass bong, and a dog, at least for a little while.
I have finally learned how to say no to pussy–how to discern what constitutes a good trip. After enough sex, I’ve realized its just pussy, and there’s no such thing as free pussy, there’s always a booty tax. There’s a difference between sexual curiosity and sexual attraction, and just because you can doesn’t mean you should. Sex without complications is a thing of the past and has been for years, if sex is the best outcome then maybe its best to walk away.
13 years of sexual activity has taught me how to know when to call it a night and just go home to rub one out.

Pubes

12 May

We used to sit around Jimmy’s house and watch porn and eat Ramen noodles. I think I was 14, and this was my first exposure to true porno. When my cousin and I were little we’d watch the Toxic Avenger movie to see titties.

This was way better. Actual penetration and better yet, lesbian scenes.
Maybe this is what made us so horny that day, when his neighbors Shannon and Mike stopped by
to shoot the shit.

I was never particular fond of Shannon’s looks but I was game when Mike suggested she let us burn a pubic hair with a ridiculously long match.

She said yeah, but only for money. I drummed up 47 cents. Mike had a dollar, Jimmy ran into his room and pulled out his special jar and counted out 15 dollars. That made 16 dollars and 47 cents.

She agreed to, pulled her panties down and Mike struck the match. He put it to her outstretched pube and almost caught the whole patch on fire. She put it out before there was any real danger.

Still we felt gypped. We wanted to see the singular pube burn down to the very end (obviously none of us had taken any science classes). This would be impossible to pull off.

So we wanted our money’s worth. At least let us see your pussy Shannon, we implored. Jimmy wasn’t down for this.

“I’m a gentleman.” he said, forgetting that he’d put up the most money, and he retreated down the hall.

And she showed it to us. We all looked down at her crotch in a collective silence. Mike and I were salivating, so close yet so faraway.

“Let us finger you.” Mike asked. My dick jumped up ten feet in the air.

“Yeah Shannon, let us finger you.”

“You got some more money?”

We didn’t and Jimmy wasn’t going to put up more money to not see some cooter, so she pulled her pants up and things pretty much dissolved after that. It’d be impossible to play a game of Madden that afternoon after what we saw (and what Jimmy didn’t).

Shannon left and soon it was just the three of us, trying to intellectualize what had just happened. Mike kept calling Jimmy a pussy and
I couldn’t wait to get home and beat off.

I took off towards home amazed at seeing my first pussy up close and in real life. As soon as I got inside my mom’s apartment, I went to my bedroom and beat my dick like it owed me money.
I found out years later from Mike that he started fucking Shannon by the end of that following week.

I didn’t care. As I said earlier I was never interested in her. I was just happy to see what a living breathing vagina looked like, it was like everything I’d imagined it to be. Much prettier in person than in magazines and television.

Union Jack’s

12 May

I'm not big on strip clubs but when I wanna blow money for women who won't sleep with me, I go to Union Jack's on Burnside.


Normally I’d think spending Valentine’s Day at the strip club to be depressing.
But it wasn’t. Maybe because this club didn’t feel seedy and slimy like most of the strip clubs here. Hell, it was Portland where strip clubs were on every corner like donut shops.

I always got bored at strip clubs,
once you’ve seen more than twenty vaginas, then you’ve seen them all in my opinion
“oooooh look at that, two breast, two legs, a pair of butt cheeks, and a vagina. Wow amazing, every woman has the same set?”

This club, Union Jack’s was a little different. Cute girls, natural looking, some had tattoos,
some didn’t. Good variety, and great music.

I had a buddy who knew a girl who worked here, so it wasn’t like we were just hanging around, we were visiting a friend at her job.

We were just talking to her when this beautiful Israeli gal strolled by wearing nothing but panties, high heel shoes and a fur coat. She was pretty engaging, we were just talking, I had no intention of spending anymore money at the club. I’d already bought some food and had a drink.

But she leaned in and said in on of the most suggestive manners possible, “Would you like a dance?”

I stammered, then for some reason my mouth opened and I saw the words “yes, let me go to an ATM.” float out of my mouth.

I’d never even considered paying for a lap dance in the thirteen years I’ve been strip club eligible. For some reason this seemed appropriate. When was I ever gonna have another chance to get a lap dance from a beautiful and exotic Israeli woman? The odds were slim. Even if I made it to Israel for a visit, it’d be quite a few years from now, and the circumstances would be quite different. I’d probably be on a family trip with my wife and sons or something.

Or maybe it was just the way she said it.

Two songs she gave me for 20 bucks, and it was the best 20 bucks I’d ever blown in my life.
It wasn’t just a lap dance. It was a performance. She was fluid, and in control, no herky jerky, but the grace of a belly dancer.

She made me feel like a rich businessman, a Dallas Cowboy, or better yet a sheik.
She rubber her brown nipples in my face, smacked herself on the ass, and rubbed that beautiful bush right against my nose.

Every time she sat in my lap she made sure to lean against my neck and breathe really hard. It was so hot and she had the best body I’d seen on a live woman by far.

I could do nothing but take deep breathes and not behave like a first timer, country bumpkin.

When the songs ended, I tried my best to calm myself down, but the flush leaving my face was obvious.
She laughed and told me I was cute. I wanted to marry her, and if not her, then go to Israel and marry a gal who looked like her but didn’t strip for a living.

Could it be true? Was I turning into one of those guys? Was I in love with a stripper?

Happiness

28 Apr

A live version of one of my favorite songs by one of my favorite bands……this post is dedicated to all my ex lovers out there  (especially the most recent) ……I wish you all the best.

Bmick

Bad Grades

12 Apr

Catchin the “clap” is a lot like getting a “C” in college. You know you’re smart enough to not be getting it, but you’re kinda relieved because you know it could’ve been a lot worse.

Goodbye Megan

26 Mar

we all miss your radiance and that beautiful smile and laugh of yours.

blast From the Past

12 Mar

“Man-o-war” for the hard core Radiohead fans.

Inside Man

12 Feb

No I am not insinuating that B- Real is gay (not that there's anythig wrong with that).

If men out there want to be the type of people who take a sexual experience with a woman for granted, perhaps they should think about this:

A woman is letting you put your dick inside her body!!!!! If you’re a guy and you wanna know why it’s such a big deal to let you “up in the them guts”…if you wanna know why women are so particular about who they sleep with, keep that in mind.

I am a very loving man and love all my guy friends immensely, but none of them I love enough to let them slip their dick inside me. So imagine how much a girl must REALLY have to trust you to do something like that.

Shit I’ve had an enema before… Wasn’t much fun….and that tube was only about as wide as my pinky……and it hurt tremendously….so I can’t even imagine……which is another reason I couldn’t be gay…..but
it does make me wonder (non-sequiter alert!!!!!)
when will the first openly gay rapper emerge????

You figure they’d see a great deal of resistance from the industry concerning such issues…..there’d be no Cypress Hill if B-Real were an openly gay emcee it just wouldn’t be sound right would it????

“I gotta dick in my mouth a fucking dick in my mouth,”

[Sen Dog -“In MY MOOOOUTH!!!]

a dick in my mouth, a dick in my mouth”

“I gotta dick in my mouth in my muthafucking mouth”

I think you get the picture…..though you never know..black president, Omar from “The Wire”…..maybe America IS ready for Monster Pooh from the Gayside Gangsters

more rejected T-shirt ideas

6 Feb

I thought up my new brand of T-shirts…..space agey and shit…..

You-niverse.. on the astrology tip……..

no one wanted to invest……consensus is that they’re too corny:

Capricorns Can’t be cornered (photo of brain with a padlock next to it)

Aquarius are always a-going

Cancers tend to be clingy (photo of a crab hanging on to someone’s ear by one claw)

Libras make better lovers (or listeners if it’s a kid’s shirt)
of course my personal fave is the Texas state outline which says Austin: hang out with your twang out…

I’m only kidding about some of these….I’ll probably make the Texas one if only for myself to wear……..

unless of course I start making T-shirts about my favorite cities.

They’d say “Portland hearts Bobby Mickey”

I could make one about Austin, Toronto, Wichita, Eugene, and OKC probably…..but then on the back I could have a photo of my favorite women and me pasted on the front…..with the font on the back…hmmmmm talk about self serving and gratifying…no one would buy those…and it’d be even douchier to wear those Tee’s.

It’d be the equivalent of seeing a professional basketball player out on the streets wearing his own jersey and some jeans.

You’d almost have to respect that kind of level of conceit.
Because you know you’ve encountered someone who TRULY doesn’t give a damn about what people think of them.

I guess I’d have to conversely make Tee’s that said Dallas hates Bobby Mickey, Houston really hates Bobby Mickey, Los Angeles couldn’t give a fuck about Bobby Mickey…..now that my friends would be HONEST.

Oregon Trails

5 Feb

Not missing the limelight…barely miss the sunlight…..though I’m sleeping more than I should be…..tough getting up when its raining and cold
and so warm underneath my blanket.

Different scene up here. Its tough…you know its bad when white people are on food stamps….(though its nothing but white people up here, I’m one of 13 black people in Oregon, the other 12 play for the Portland Trailblazers)

the crazy thing is that I think I should’ve been on food stamps as early as 2006….I never knew it was that easy to get on them.

Maybe I should’ve applied for economic hardship on my student loan as well. It amazes me how little I understand about finances. Perhaps I should marry an accountant like my buddy T did.

But I see why God made the weed so good up here. It helps combat the doldrums one can easily get from living in the northwest. Cold, rainy, but beautiful (gorgeous when its sunny), and the weed helps point that out (living in Seattle must be like living on Venus–all that rain).

Something unusual about Oregon is that you can’t pump your own gas. They pay gas attendants to do that. Supposedly its to help stimulate jobs here……however if you go to the grocery store you’ll see U-scan machines to scan your own groceries….. how does this make sense…..those machines take away people’s jobs, just like in Vonnegut’s Player Piano. The worst part about it is you have one employee doing the work of four people because that employee is essentially running four registers at once, since they are the ones who have to provide assistance when the inevitable foul-up occurs.

Other than that everything is good here. Just sent in the artwork for the next book, “Toss offs and Throwaways” and working on my fourth book, which will be a juggernaut with at least 60-85 poems in it. All I need is a job. Keep your fingers crossed.