Warm Up To Those Motherfuckers

As part of my job, we interview women on their sexuality.

We just did another interview today, and I’d like to make a brief treatise on being warm and accepting to those who are around you. Brutal, assbreaking honesty can be found in most people — the trick is getting them to open up and spill it out.

How do you do this? There’re two ways.

The first is that YOU SHARE FIRST. You have to open yourself up and be emotionally vulnerable for them to actually share anything with you — else you’re that “weird motherfucker” who seems like you’re more interested in her body than her (or in the least, more interested in stalking her than not). By pressing too hard and too fast for honesty, you’re going to break any rapport you had before you started.

The second is that YOU NEVER COME DOWN HARD! I mean, ever. If they’re talking about how their secret fetish is raping sheep, and you think that they’re being honest about it, you never want to smack them down and tell them that your favorite hobby is tracking down sheepfuckers and bringing them to justice. Well, you might jokingly — you’d pro’lly be able to get away with it.

Beyond this, always keep open body language. You don’t want to tell her “tell me more!” when you’re not facing her — always look at her, or at least, near her. Eye contact isn’t necessary, but if you’re looking to come off as “that affable dude”, you’re going to need to at least keep your body facing her — that means that your belly button is facing her torso, not away.

Be yourself. If you aren’t too busy in your head analyzing everything, be your normal, quirky self. Let go and share who you can be, because THAT person she’d like to befriend. Not the persona, but the person.

Me, I spend more time pretending to be someone well-rounded than being someone well-rounded. Become who you actually are, and people will love you. Be a persona, and when you revert, you’ll find that nobody understand — or supports — this new you. At least, not without a lot of explaining.

Warm up to them motherfuckers, and let them in.

Attitude

The truth behind the matter is that my lack of posts has been self-imposed.

I’ve been pushed at work beyond any limits that I thought or knew I had, putting in 11 hour days for no pay (as I’m an intern, see). And it’s so completely worth it.

But that’s neither here nor there, here’s another tasty post.

My friend told this to me, and I believe him: routines are developed solely so that people without confidence can develop it. It’s akin to learning a fallback that you can resort to when nervous. MM is a system that’s written out so that you can follow it quickly, easily.

The reality behind this reasoning is that we’re afraid of the unknown, of the void. If all you need to build is confidence, how do you do so? How do you build momentum when you’re not started?

There are a variety of different ways, and these are all small steps designed to attack the root of the problem. As the problem is social confidence with the other gender, the best technique that I know is to play in an ultimate frisbee game. As you get older, you can resort to more suitable sports for your age; but the premise is the same. Go to a social event where the “in” is easy, and there’s no pressure to be social.

You’ll meet people there, and the soft friendships you make there can begin to permeate into other areas of your life.  You never want to eat alone — you never want to go out alone, you always want to push the boundaries of what you know and thought to be possible.

Hope can be created if you think that you can achieve through short steps. I don’t think that this blog can be “great” immediately, but with enough posts, with enough friends, and with enough time, I can make it something that I’m proud to be a part of.

Keep the right mindset as you move forward, and keep the right ATTITUDE.

Rock on, soldiers.

Rock the fuck on.

Not Sinking the Ship

(a.k.a. Viewing the Entrepreneurial)

Heather once told me “all I wanted to ever be was something special.” Well, all I ever wanted to be was someone doing something meaningful. Powerful to an extent, but meaningful.

I finally found a job that allows me to do that. It’s chasing the entrepreneurial dream, and it’s one of the most interesting experiences of my life. It kinda sucks to know that every decision I push for could be the End of Company — but it also makes me follow my gut feelings and dreams. It means that I need to push it harder, faster, better than ever before. And while I talk about my successes with glowing eyes… I also know that some of them were selfish, bad choices which I only realized in retrospect.

For example, I made my boss spend $120 on business cards. In the scheme of things, $120 isn’t bad — but in the larger version, $120 is pretty high, considering that we can’t even buy a $700 sound system that we’ll use in the future. This makes things perpetually harder for us, as there isn’t a good solution for this –

I’m supposed to have a refined eye for the conservative, the necessary. Without it, I’m leading the company into a trail of fire from which there is no return. The Abyss calls.  Well, maybe not an abyss per se.

But either way, I need to NOT SINK THE BUSINESS. As that’d be totally not hot, as Paris Hilton would say.

It’s all for now.

Dick Size Don’t Matter?

This is the hotly contested topic — psychological technique, physical technique, or physique?

Men, growing up, hear that it’s physique. If you have a nine inch cock, you’ll be embraced and loved by women. I once heard a man confide in another man, “I know that it’s not politically correct, but have you ever had a girl tell you that size DOES matter?” Dudes with penis envy constantly wonder why things go so badly for them in bed — why the orgasms that they produce aren’t as strong as the orgasms that bigger-dick dudes produce.

Some would say it’s physical technique. Embracing the teachings of gurus such as David Shade, you can easily create G-Spot orgasms, clitoral orgasms, and learn how to employ constant stimulation and variation to become the perfect lover. But then they wonder why the girls get bored with the technique.

My boss would say it’s psychological technique. That the more you know about fantasies and dominance, the greater your confidence will be, and naturally the better the sex will be. And yet, girls wonder why you think you’re the shit when you can’t even get her off.

So, where do I fall? I believe in the psychological. As you can see in this blog, I’m seven inches, but I believe that having a controlling mindset with complete understanding will make the sex hotter. That confidence DOES dictate better sex.

Why? It’s because you can get her hot through fingering her, through eating her — but if you provide a context for that, if you show her that you’re confident and you are free to pretend other situations where you both find it hot… it’s like three times more powerful than just having a large dick and shoving it into her. Even dirty talk increases the pleasure by a factor of one and a half, so long as she feels comfortable with your calling her a slut, or whatnot.

Anyways, where do you fall? Tell me, and leave a comment.

I’m a Sex Fiend.

This is by far the hardest post I’ve had to write in a long time. This is my proverbial outing: I am a man, and I am a sex fiend. I wouldn’t say that I’m a nymphomaniac — I don’t NEED sex. But I crave sex, and have been ashamed of it for longer than I can remember.
I came to this revelation a few days ago, and I’ve been trying to figure out what it really means. Masturbating three times a day if given the chance, indulging in fantasties of mind control, mature women, and soft domination.

And the shame… I’d look away from a story after I had release. Avert my eyes from pornography because I was “guilty” of wanting it. In my mind I was guilty of being immoral — since I had grew up with the belief that men are sexual predators, and that as a man, I will force my “unwanted needs” on unsuspecting women.

Over the years, this programming has manifested itself in an interesting way. It has convinced me that I need to be effiminate because women won’t be offended with that mentality. That heroes from movies such as The Princess Bride were the models that I was supposed to follow. And that I needed to be moral in all ways.

A few years ago, I realized that I projected that “morality” onto females. That if I wanted a girl, that I’d be taking advantage of her. And so my repression grew, and my shame increased accordingly.

To come out of that shell, I needed to admit to myself that I am a sexual creature. And I needed to admit that I crave females. I would stare at ladies and pretend that my ogling them wasn’t sexual, but rather done out of boredom.

I am a sexual man. I can and will not tolerate people telling me that I am immoral for who I am. Because repressing myself has ripped my insides out, and changing into the new person that I wish to be has cost me most of my friends.

But it’s who I need to be. The old must die, the new must reign. I don’t know if I can be that new person completely, and I don’t know who I will end up being. But I will integrate myself into being. The new must reign.

I Won’t Be Afraid of Fear…

I can’t say that I’ve had a lot of dreams. I’ve had the occasional bout struggling with the illusion of grandeur; everyone has. But I do remain hopeful at the future, believing that there can and will be a better future for me at some point along the road.

I think I found the right road. It’s a path which can make me a lot of money, and help people at the same time. AND help myself. It’s a trifecta. There’re two obvious pitfalls, though.

The first is that I need to learn coding for websites. From the bottom up. I’ve not coded…. ever. And I need to learn HTML 1.0, javascript, java, and perhaps CSS. And then most likely PHP. And I’ll be doing this on my own dime, on my own time.

The second is that I need to trust that I’ll get paid. I very well might not, and might be compensated unfairly. In essence, I’m trusting that my boss will be “cool” and give me adequate, if not above-adequate, compensation for my time and effort.

My parents believe that I’ll be left lackluster — that with this process that I’ll fall in with my brother, lacking a job and left searching. And yet I can see that my boss has great things planned — if he can just reach the tipping point and make things fall in his favor.

Risk and courage lie in the same boat. To pursue what you believe will work out in your favor, risking it all is necessary. I just wish that I wasn’t so damn pressured about it.

I’m reminded of Cobain — at the very height of his recording career, he wrote the worst and greatest B-Side I’ve ever heard — Moist Vagina. The lyrics are simplistic; “she had a moist vagina, I particularly enjoy the circumference. From the sucking walls of her anus… I prefer her to any other.” the music itself is incredibly muddled, sloppily delivered. But the song carries weight as it shows that pressure to perform carries weight, and that not everybody can carry it. But if you can, if you can stick through it, you may be more than you believe you are.

So who am I?

On Brashness…

It’s a conscious choice to leave this blog brash. It’s entirely possible to refine myself and present this blog in an entertaining way, with personal anecdotes placed alongside the musings, but I’ve felt that part of my essential game is to stop censoring myself and let the natural person out.

As a stylistic decision, I’m going to go into a bit of depth here, and then cap it off. Thematically, the “player’s community” is based around the feeling of sleeze, slime. The name “pick-up artist” and “seduction community” is designed to invoke feelings of disgust because we’re supposed to be self-selecting. If you can stand the heat of being a part of a grunge-tastic community which your friends will mock, then you’ll easily be able to change your social game and begin the self-improvement process.

Personally, there’s also the censorship issue. I used to write a blog that was designed to gain visitors, one which was written not for clarification of my thought processes but rather to bitch at people. I’ve since realized that the blog needs to be a reflection of personal beliefs, and that this is only possible through being willing to lose readers because you have fallacious beliefs, or present them badly. (Overgeneralizations also deals with this.)

I love listening to the change.

My throat’s been sandblasted. On purpose, partially; never expected it to get this bad, though.

Here’s the story. Finals finished Thursday, and I went out to celebrate with my friends. I was suffering from a migraine at the end of the meal, and then attempted to dry swallow a broken Excedrin.

I almost vomited. The broken end slammed into my throat and gave me insta-nausea. Most people on the T weren’t stupid enough to sit next to me in that state, though one businessman decided to risk it. He quickly moved away.

Feeling fucked up, I called home, got a ride back. I immediately took some antacids and drank some water to wash away some of the dehydration that’d apparently been building up. And I hovered around the toilet, waiting for the nausea to pass.

When it did, I started coughing. And I couldn’t stop. My flatmates didn’t bother to inform me that we had cough medicine, so I was battling it out with the coughing for around 36 hours. Within that 36 hours, though, I went out with Ray in a vain attempt to finish the clothes shopping we started last week.

After seven hours of hanging out, I’d completely lost my voice. I mean, completely. Nothing could literally come out of my vocal chords, although I could whisper. (Try whisper-speaking to people over the phone, it really doesn’t work well).

Before completely losing my voice I got my schedule cleared. And with gritty determination, I decided to not speak until my voice got better. That was a decision made 36 hours ago (it’s been three days of ubersickness, for those following the timeline).

When not communicating with pen and paper, I can hear my voice reconstruct itself. And it’s utterly fascinating. When you first speak, all you get is a deep bass. Eight+ hours later, you get a weird bass+treble combination, with no middle-tone. I woke up today, and my voice was completely treble. My voice is coming closer to normal, but it’s a surprise every time I open my mouth to speak.

…in other news, it’s kinda a pain in the ass to not speak. I only recommend it if you want people to get frustrated with you until they remember that you’re not speaking.

old news: daisy duxx

This article’s an oldie but goodie. It’s snatched from www.lukeisback.com/archives/updates/050519.htm

Warning: As always, viewer discretion is advised. This is some really fucked up shit, so if that offends you, please, please, please don’t read on.

The other night was a topper however. Not because a guest did something really freaky, but because two guests bragged about something so inhumane, so disgusting and made me the most uncomfortable that I think I’ve ever been hosting my radio show on KSEXradio.com.

Daisy Duxxx and Ashley Gracie are two relatively new girls shooting porn. They’re not really all that “hot” but they are cute in their own right and somewhat sexy. They’re based in Florida where a lot of amateur porn is shot and they made their first trip to Porn Valley, California, as a way of introducing themselves and possibly expanding their adult shooting to the West Coast.

What better way to let the public know you exist in a sex themed business then an appearance on KSEX, right? Well, most of the time, yes. This time, I think these girls may have made a huge mistake.

When I don’t know a star or when a guest doesn’t have a lot of history or credits, I find myself asking similar questions nearly every interview. Not that I don’t have the creativity to give all the guests different interviews but even with a lot of the same questions, I nearly always get different and interesting answers. On the night in question, I was going through my normal question and answer routine only to be blown away by one of the answers by these girls.

While I don’t remember the exact set up, in an interview with Daisy Duxxx, she volunteered information about a shoot she recently enjoyed shooting. And it was a real shooting folks.
In the filming she described by a company named Sexy Outdoor Sports, she explained that she was hired to go on an Indian reservation in Florida, take a shotgun and hunt and shoot a water buffalo. After the production company filmed her killing the animal, they set up cameras around the dead animal where she then performed a sex scene. I was so shocked by this statement that I started laughing, figuring it was a joke.

It was no joke. Duxxx even went on to brag about how she climbed up on the animal and took a piss on it’s balls. She was making these claims and laughing about it.

Ya know what? That’s some really f—ed up s—.

In moving along as quickly as possible, I began interviewing her friend Ashley. Guess what? This bitch shot for that crappy company too. She was required to shoot an old Billy goat and f— near it. But guess what? The Billy goat didn’t die. So, as a part of the movie, she had to get a “nine”, put her foot on it’s neck and pop a cap in it’s head…..then go f— next to it’s carcass.

Is your stomach churning yet? This is not some twisted fabricated story here folks. These bitches are for real. This company is for real. I don’t know how the hell it could be legal, but it IS going on and it has to stop.

Thoughts, anybody?