porn in the morn: do you need therapy?
I just love porn, almost as much as I love cheeseburgers, chocolate milkshakes and diving for toejam. So when I heard about a young man who was going to therapy for his porn addiction, I wondered if I might be paddling in the same boat. I suppose anything can be an addiction if it's a good thing used to excess or in a negative way. Look at booze. A glass of wine, the cup of the vine, now that should be a joyful thing. But if a guy gets bombed every night and beats up his wife and kids, then that must be alcoholism. Sex in all its forms, masturbation, eating and everything else could turn out the same way. Good or bad, depending on how you use it.
I watched some clips of Jake Steel at the JakeCruise.com site and became so intoxicated by the young hunk's beauty I wondered how those clips could be considered bad in any way. Jake Steel, who is now appearing also in a number of films from LucasEntertainment, appears in one clip with Bo Dean at the JakeCruise site and the photography of his male parts and feet made me think how in my private fantasy world all life is a barefoot dream. So I knocked out a poem. Want to hear it? You may put it to music if you like.
I am addicted to love and life
and the bare feet of life's sexy dancers.
Come to the river
at midnight, at noontime,
at noontime, at twilight,
at twilight, at midnight
when the sand pushes warm fantasies through your toes,
exotic breezes suck mischievously at your nipples,
and all dreams and dreamers are barefoot...
OK, OK! So maybe I do have an addiction. I could easily become addicted to the soles of Jake Steel's bare feet. And you better not try to cure me! Thnk you can? Rots of ruck!
bumps on the road to enlightenment
I have searched for beauty. I have fought for truth.
I joined the quest for joy of pure being.
My study of music took me through symphonies, opera, folk songs and Pink Floyd.
My ventures into dancing brought me to ballet, merengue, the twist and Portuguese folk dances.
My acquaintance with literature gave me the wisdom of novels, plays, poetry and the Rubaiyat.
It wasn't enough.
My thirst for social justice inspired me to join marches, shout slogans and listen attentively to Rachel Maddow.
My appreciation of nature roused me to hike through meadowlands and climb up mountains. (Well, they weren't really mountains.. They were more like big hills, actually.)
But it was still never enough.
Then I met a guy.
I licked his bare feet and sucked his dick.
When I felt deep in my gut the vibrations of his cosmic orgasm, I was truly enlightened at last!
(I think he felt pretty good, too.)