Still spinnin’

Sometimes I feel the guy that still buys CDs. But I can’t help it—I still buy porn DVDs.

The tubes sites just don’t do it for me. All grainy and shit. I mean, they’re nice in a pinch. But given my druthers, I’ll take a DVD every time.

Since I’m also a cheap bastard, I rooted around until I found Adult DVD Marketplace. It’s an ingenious idea—it’s basically an Ebay for porn. You post the ones you want to sell, and can browse the stuff other people are getting away with. It’s pretty sweet, and DVDs can be had for less than a dollar.

Today I received my latest order. I grabbed two this time—“Crazy Insane Blowjob Orgies” and “Roly Poly Gangbang Vol. 9.”

I was checking them out earlier, and both of them are on point. The blowjob disc seems to be a compilation of scenes from various editions of “The American Cocksucking Championships,” which is nice. Lots of babes sucking lots of dicks.

The fattie disc is also hot. It has a scene with my new favorite big girl, Glory Foxxx. But it looks like I’ve found a new friend in a blond named simply “Solsa.” She’s got the kind of big-girl body I like. Big, but not too big. I will get plenty of mileage from both discs.

So that last coke score wasn’t so great. That olive-smelling stuff is kind of rough, and not in a good way. So I went back to the old tried and true tonight, and I’m glad I did. Appreciate what you have, kids.

As such, I’m gonna blow a couple more lines and dig into this blowjob tape. See you later….

Heaven must be like this

When I'm dead, just burn me up and toss half of my ashes over here. I'll let you know what to do with the other half soon enough.

High

I’m remembering why I was such a stoner in college.

I was an uptight, naïve kid that needed to loosen up. Marijuana absolutely did the trick.

There are the fondest of memories inside a tiny bedroom in an attic apartment in a particular Midwestern college town. Sitting in front of a cheap department store stereo, baked out of my mind on the sorriest excuse for weed my stoner roommates could help me score.

I’d sit there and listen to the Smashing Pumpkins and My Bloody Valentine and just bug the fuck out. Drink some cheap beer (usually some Busch Light Draft in cans, God help us all), maybe nom out on some Little Debbie snack cakes from the store on the corner. Life was good.

Riding my girlfriend’s purple bike across campus late at night, imagining all of the brilliant and amazing things we were going to do together. Our babies would be so beautiful she would laugh in that tinkly laugh that would never fail to make my insides flutter. I was young, brash, so very ready to rule my corner of the world with this gorgeous woman next to me, making me better just by her presence.

Of course none of it came to pass. I just saw pictures of her first baby on Facebook. Another man’s child, so innocent and sweet, unknowing of the twist inside my gut at the sight of him.

When it was all said and done, the only thing left was me, a duffel bag and an eighth of marijuana in an SRO hotel in Chicago.

I haven’t thought of the Chicago years in forever. Not really. That was such a severe time. There was a period where I was living in the Ambassador East hotel on somebody else’s dime, for fuck’s sake. What? How did any of that ever happen is so beyond me now.

To have made it through all of that to get here now is why I’m doing what I’m about to do. I didn’t survive all of THAT only to just kind of drift away. The plan was set a long time ago. I’ve just been taking my time about putting it into effect now that we’re here.

When I burn through yet another bowl of this designer marijuana that I now have delivered to my door, it somehow connects me to that dork in college trying so desperately to fit in, and get laid, and build something that would last forever. Two out of three ain’t bad.

I should have been there

I’m perpetually amazed at my lust for the big women.

I’m review this new DVD I got in the mail today: “Dirty Horny Orgies.” It’s got scenes from various orgy flicks produced by the Evasive Angles company. Good stuff.

One of the scenes is from “Big Phat Wet Ass Orgy.” During the introduction, we meet the bevy of big-bootied babes that are about to get boned by a bunch of big black dicks. It’s the usual selection of black and white hoes with nice asses. 

Then they pan over to a nearby Jacuzzi, where one of the dudes is chilling with these two super-fine white girls. One is just thick, maybe on the chubby side: Kimmie Lee. 

But the other is this large and in charge hunk of sexual dynamite called Glory Foxxx. She’s got massive tits and an equally big smile. And to me, she’s the hottest of the bunch.

So it kind of pisses me off that she’s barely in the scene. I mean, she gets some screen time. But not nearly enough for me. The worst is that there’s a long stretch leading up the scene-ending cum shots where she’s alone on the end of a couch, diddling her clit and pinching her own nipple.

But if I was there, woo boy. I’d have been all up in that chunky goodness like there was no tomorrow. I love me some Glory Foxxx. Between her and Kimmie Lee, forget about it. Toss in a hotel room and an 8-ball of cocaine, and we're talking one hell of a fun lost weekend.

So much so that I just ordered a copy of “Roly Poly Gangbang #9,” which promises a bevy of big-bellied white girls (including my beloved Glory Foxx) getting black dick from all sorts of angles. I can’t fucking wait.

Still choppin

Work hard, play hard.

Those words have begun to rule my life.


The past month has been a frantic blur of deadlines, freelance assignments, added responsibility at the office—it feels like I’ve been working three jobs. At least. Somewhere, my father is loving this.

Oh, but we haven’t forgotten the play hard part of the equation. I’ve been burning through cocaine like Lindsay Lohan. Take the gram I scored last night, that was supposed to last me the weekend. I polished that off over an hour ago. Which is why I drove a half-hour to meet up with Mr. Dependable, my old tried and true coke dealer from back in the day.

For one, I just couldn’t hit up my current guy twice in two days. That’s just too cracky. A guy’s gotta keep up some appearances, anyway. 

But I also feel like his bags have been kinda light lately, and I’m pretty sure that shit’s mad diluted. I mean, I know I’m a cokehead and all, but I should not be able to snort through a gram that quickly. Famous last words, right?

*Excuse me while I do a line…

Oh yeah, that’s that craaaaazy shit. The stuff that smells faintly of olives. Fuck, just one rail of that shit and I’m vibrating over here. Nice.

*OK, here goes line number two…

Whew. But fuck it. I’ve been working like a mad person. I’ve been out every night this week. The weekend is here, and I’m not committed to shit. Except getting fucked up and watching “Orgy World Vol. 9,” which showed up in the post today. Good times.

Pets

Sex in outer space

I imagine finding these two waiting for me at the top of Cocaine Mountain on Planet XxX. Everything, everything.