One Hundred Twenty-Eight photographs of beauty, each marvelously composed. Imapix, the photographer, should be shot, or at least banned from Flickr. He sets the bar impossibly high for the rest of us.
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I’ve posted several accounts of my youthful sexual encounters to this blog. Those stories are admittedly somewhat fictionalized (partly because of the amnesia of age and partly out of my shameless efforts to make a better narrative). I believe these tales still matter to who I am today. While some facts may be smudged – or prettyfied – the essence of each tale, as best I can make it, remains true and a crucial part of me.
I admit being shockingly proud of my written accounts of these episodes of sex and loves: Gail, and my instant soaring lust for her followed by the worst breakup in all of recorded history of the entire known world. Barbara, and my shocking answer to a simple question and the sordid hilarity that ensued. Janet, the brilliant, tall redhead I stubbornly insisted on keeping as an ethereal fantasy, even in the face of her implied offer of sweet carnality. Janet Pilgrim (real name Charlaine Edith Karalus), the 1952 platinum blonde Playboy Playmate whose airbrushed nudity dazzled the eleven year old boy I once was and made his underwear bulge for the very first time. The construction worker who, the first Christmas I was divorced, made a present to me of her body wrapped in a concentrated cloud of marijuana smoke, then passed out under me. The petite brunette who claimed to be a student at Hunter College then leased me her very handsome tits for a not unsizable contribution to her tuition fund one afternoon in a New York gentleman’s club (I left with a lightened step – much of my cash had fled my wallet). Lorrie, who paid me three hundred dollars so I’d let her blow me. Elizabeth, the nine year old who triggered my first sexual awakening when I was the same age while we played innocently in her front yard. Terry, the tormented torch singer – and Star Trek fanatic – with dark brownhair and anguished eyes from Chicago who once told me, “tonight, I almost love you”.
All of those stories, and more, I’ve carefully preserved, like faded photos pasted onto heavy black pages in a gilt edged, oversized album entitled My Most Very Important Memories – Volume One: Sex & Love.
Not every sexual encounter I had in my younger days has been inshrined in that sacred scrapbook; Most of those not canonized have so faded from memory or exist only as a small handful of scattered shards I cannot reassemble nor encumbered them with any meaning.
But there is a category of memories which, while possibly meaningful, I choose not dwell on. Frankly, I fear these stories’ meanings might be too dark. I resist writing about them, not wanting to face a revelation too likely to puncture my pumped up sense of self. No. Better to leave those memories safely unjudged in the comforting recesses of mind than spread them out in unalterable script spread neatly across the digital pages of this blog. I tremble, too, in cold, black fear of how you, dear reader, might judge me should these memories I now keep under lock ever escape to the light of day.
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Flickr gave me a Christmas gift! Three months of free service! First I waS elated. I had just saved over six bucks and I wouldn’t have to deal with the stress of renewing my pro account until October 5 of next year! Then it all came crashing down on me. Thoughtlessly I hadn’t gotten anything for Flickr – or Yahoo – for Christmas. Geesh. I felt like an absolute grinch. Maybe I could re-gift them with one of my less appealing gifts. Would they like a three layer, gluten free fruitcake!?
According to the bit of desultory research I just did, Flickr claims to have fifty million plus members. I was actually going to count them for myself till I realized I’d probably lose track at some point and have to start all over again. That happens all the time when I’m trying to figure how much money my pocket totals (in my defense, I usually have a ton of pennies and sometimes confuse nickels and quarters).
There’s a lot of crap on Flickr – photos not even the photographer’s mother cares to see. We live in a world where pets have their own twitter and Facebook accounts. I’d guess the average Flickrite has posted at least two or three dozen photos of her dog, cat, gerbil, python or ant colony. After even more exhaustive research I can safely report there are over 3.35 million photographs tagged “pet” on Flickr. Don’t believe me? Count them for yourself.
Don’t get me started on the crooked, often blurry photos of “my kid(s)”, “my husband (wife)”, “my shoes”, and “my bowling ball”. It’s a mystery to me why people take and post snapshot of ordinary things, and people, they see every day. I don’t have a photo of my cat on my desk; I see him every morning and I’m not likely to forget what he looks like (at least I won’t for another five or six years). It’s mostly the same with my wife. I know what she looks like, too. If I had a photo of her taken ten years ago in a little silver frame beside my desk phone it would probably depress me to think about how many more wrinkles she has now. It’s moot, however, since she refuses to let me photograph her.
There are of course good photographers among the fifty mil. After personally reviewing all fifty million Flickr photostreams, here are a few of my favorites:
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Is one these ladies Emma? The blonde with that sweet angelic face? The brunette with those smoky, “come hither” eyes? I have absolutely no idea. Dave and Emma, in the time honored Flickr tradition, offer virtually no info about themselves on their profile page. Oh. Well. A rose by any name at all…
I hope you enjoy my gifts. Isn’t it nice you don’t have to unwrap them!? No torn wrapping paper to get underfoot and then thrown in the trash with those horrid yellow spotted socks Aunt Yetta sent you. Last year’s pair was blue, the year before that was green. In another year or so you’ll have the entire set… Of course, her gifts may be in retaliation for that gift wrapped box of Depends you sent her for Christmas in 2008.
Isn’t she lovely? Sorry, boys, the lawn chair is not included, but you won’t need batteries – just looking at her will get you all charged up… Now, what would you like to giver her?
Here’s a sexy redhead for you. Warning: you must be 21 to share her glass of wine! She obviously lovess her overstuffed chair. Luckily for you, she’s equally fond of her overstuffed bed where she’d like to share something else with you…
Even if you’re not underwater with her, this girl will make you hold your breath. So what are you waiting for? C’mon in boys, the water is fine! So dive right in, I’m sure she’d be thrilled.
I have no idea what this woman is thinking about; sure looks like she deep in philosophical thought. I know what I’m thinking about when I look at her and it isn’t Spinosa, Kant or Wittgenstein. No, when it comes to dead philosophers Epicurus is my man…
Sleeping Beauty. Sure, a kiss will wake her up. The really tough question is where to kiss her. Find Just the right sweet spot with enough sweet kisses and you’ll live happily ever after – at least till your Christmas tree finally comes down.
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Thank God the National Rifle Association finally weighed in Friday with its tipically compassionate common sense! You can always count on the good old NRA in a crises!
The much maligned NRA isn’t about guns at all; its a humane service organization. Its all about people – particularly our precious children – and protecting them from the bloody carnage of our cesspool society.
Friday the NRA brilliantly proposed to make our children safer by posting armed guards in every one of the one hundred thousand schools, from kindergarten to high school, in the country! The sages at the NRA know guns don’t kill people! Guns protect people!! It’s just common sense: the more guns around you the safer you are. The higher the caliber the lower your risk. Pistols are good. Rifles are better. Semi-automatic rifles are better still. If only the wimps in congress would legalize fifty cal machine guns we’d live in the safest country in the world! Wayne Lapierre is a prophet (as was the saintly Chuck Heston).
But, you ask, what about the cost of the NRA Safer Schools proposal? While it may not be insignificant, its well worth it to keep our kids safe and sound.
OK, so let’s see… Suppose we need to put three and a half guards in each school… Hmm… Lets say we have annual payroll for each guard of $20,000… Gotta buy the guns, too – thats another $150 per man (you can get a used Smith & Wesson for a song these days)… Insurance? $1,000. Benefits? Throw in another $1,000. Training? Another grand.. A annual total per guard cost of $23,150; per school it’s $81,000. Eight billion for all schools… Is that right?? Think so… Not as bad as I thought…
Total for all schools over ten years: 80 billion bucks. Yep. Math seems right. We could easily pay this cost by shaving a few percentage points off the budgets of Medicare, food stamps, unemployment compensation and Social Security.
Oh, sure, I guess we ought to figure the cost of guards screwing up. Suppose five or six students, teachers or strangers get shot each year, with half dying. Over ten years that’s 55 total casualties with around thirty dead. Say $1,000,000 per settlement. Oh, that’s peanuts – just fifty plus million over ten years. A mere rounding error. A few guards will shoot themselves every year, too, incurring workers compensation. Toss in another five million over a decade. Again, peanuts.
I concede there might be a tiny bit of freedom lost and maybe an excess of criminal prosecution of students, teachers and school custodians. But its too hard to put a cost on that – so we’ll let it pass. Besides, giving up a few of the Bill of Rights’ protections (except, of course, for the Second amendment’s) to keep our little ones safe in school is a small price to pay.
On the other hand, there’ll be a big increase in gun sales (like having Obama elected every year!) The uniform, badge and boot trades will get a boost as well. Our whole economy will get a huge shot!
Although it wasn’t mentioned in the NRA presser, there’s an obvious – and huge – next step!!
Once our schools are protected by a wall of hot lead, those poor souls tortured and debauched by TV & movies, video games, media sensationalism, and – as always – Godless liberals, will naturally turn their murderous fury in other, more vulnerable directions. Churches, hospitals, museums, parks, sports stadiums, beaches, restaurants, golf courses, NASCAR races, bowling alleys, shopping malls, holiday parades, state Republican conventions, rodeos, “gentlemen’s clubs” and other public gathering places will all face an unacceptable increased risk.
We’ll need a lot more good men (and a few good women) with guns to protect us all from the ever surging tide of bad men with guns, men manufactured like so many defective toasters in the devilish factories spawned by our corrupt society – men who will threaten to spill our loved ones’ blood in the years to come.
Suppose ten million vulnerable spots… Five guards per spot…
We’ll need another FIFTY MILLION armed sentinels!! I guess we will need a whole bunch of volunteers. If we buy each of our volunteers a Bushmaster at about $1,400 per we can keep total costs under $77,000,000,000!
Wait!! OMG, the best answer to our problem is so obvious! I’m an idiot…
We can cut most of the cost by simply mandating that every able-bodied American citizen must purchase a semiautomatic firearm – with his own money! – and then must openly carry it whenever he’s in public. If we get rid of that background check nonsense (and relax the mental health restrictions – most mentally ill folks still function reasonably well and would be helped by having an exciting outdoor job with police authority), we can put together our volunteer security force (hmmm, we could call it the GEneral Sentinel Tactical Organized Protective Order (GeSTOPO) quicker than you can say JackBootedThug!
Brilliant, isn’t it!? Just brilliant!
But don’t thank me. Thank Wayne LaPierre and the National Rifle Association (and send them a check…)
Now if we are wise enough to just follow the NRA’s lead we will be nearer to ending gun violence in our nation. Don’t let lefty politicians and those do-gooder gun nuts who want to neuter our Second Amendment rights fool you. Just get yourself another gun or two (or four or twenty) and help us make America a safer place. Its just such common sense…
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While there is of course nothing I could write today about the Connecticut shooting that would be original or truly meaningful, it does seem important to mention it. Because of the number killed and tender age of most of the victims, this episode of lunatic gun frenzy seems worse than the dozens of others in my lifetime.
The sad litany of voices and arguments we have heard after each massacre has begun. “Guns don’t kill children people do.” “It’s too early! Don’t politicize this tragedy!” “How can anyone defend automatic weapons and twenty shot magazines!?” ” Why is America so obsessed with firearms?”
Mike Huckabee won the race to be the first right wing pundit to bleat that tired old pro-gun talking point: if that teacher had only had a gun…” Yes, I can see it now. As the crazed shooter breaks into the classroom brandishing his semi-automatic pistols, our teacher frantically hunts for her over sized handbag, hurriedly digs through the layers of junk for her six shooter. takes time to load (wouldn’t want to have a loaded gun in a room full of curious kindergarten kids), then calmly turns toward the madman and drills him right between the eyes – after he’s had time to mow down only half the class (all this assumes the killer is too dumb to shoot the teacher first)!
Huckabee missed the obvious answer: the kids should have been packing. Your average seven year old, and precocious five and six year olds, are certainly mature enough to carry concealed weapons (if properly trained). Imagine how this tragedy would have been avoided if an entire class of elementary school children had pulled their guns from their backpacks and then riddled the unsuspecting villain with a fusillade of well aimed hot lead!
My solution would crete a whole new market for the firearm industry. Tiny shots from tiny tots! Girls would likely gravitate toward Barbie’s BAM-BAM pink Derringer, while boys would drool over pearl handled shiny six shooters specially crafted to fit comfortably in little boy hands. If these small firearms don’t have enough stopping power the makers could easily offer the kids hollow point ammunition for just a few dollars more. To be sure our pint sized posses are full of deadeye marks-boys/girls, school recess could be replaced with mandatory target and fast draw practice.
Why, I suspect that when a majority of first through third graders start carrying guns their grades will shoot way up. Little Billy’s Glock will help his teachers see just how truly special he is (“Ms. Smith, your little Billy has made real progress on his anger issues. We want to promote him to middle school – tomorrow!”) And there may even be other benefits as well. No more playground bullies?
Sadly, thanks to the liberal elite in our country my common sense plan to stop school shootouts will never see the light of day. It’ll be the same thing that happened when I proposed giving obsolete artillery pieces to the Boy Scouts…
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