Monday, September 25, 2017


Amazon informed me that there was a problem with one of the images I used for one of my porn books. (Some stock-looking relatively unremarkable  photo of a woman's ass in panties. The panties were pretty hot-looking though, they had a zipper on the ass. Note to self I should get a pair like that. I picture a guy pulling down the zipper at the back of my panties and fucking me in the ass. Who doesn't picture that? Yum! ). Apparently someone claimed he held a copyright for it. No proof was provided and I certainly didn't see any copyright on the image when I used it or I never would have used it. Anyway, I sure wasn't going to fight the issue. I couldn't care less, ultimately. Instead I did what I should have done in the first place and what I usually always do: block out the world entirely and go into extreme DIY mode. Whatever's the matter with me—Aspergers/mild autism, who knows?—one thing I've always understood. No others=no problems. So I replaced the images on all these books with pictures of me taken by me. All in all, I actually like them better this way. They have a kind of grungy, low-tech, "dirty" look. Gosh. How simple & pleasant everything can be when you shut the world out entirely!!!









Saturday, September 23, 2017


I really don't like writers very much. They're too verbal. I prefer nonverbal people. I'd rather be with an inarticulate painter or musician or even a chess player. I'd rather be with anyone inarticulate. I used to number myself among the writers. I've written thousands of pages. I made a living writing. I thought I was communicating. I was just confusing myself and everyone else. I really can't bear listening to people who think they're communicating anything important: their thoughts, their feelings, whatever it is. They're just making everything worse. Even now, I'm writing. It's horrible. I really wish I'd just knock it off. I keep promising myself I will. But these words are just as empty as all the others that come out of me.

Thursday, September 21, 2017


Thalassemia

Let’s never think about it
or cross that river
when we run from it
just because it’s a good place to hide
in the mist drifting sideways.

For years now, we’ve evacuated
for all we were worth.
It’s like we’ve been struggling
outside the frame of our own picture.
It’s exhausting to say the least
& a fat lot of good it’s done us.
A crow in the street
has had more to say about it all
than we ever did.

Still, it’s no cross to bear;
the underside of all things
held us fast, thank god, like bombs on a mission.
We were clowns then, but the championship
Was within our grasp.

Sometimes they do come back
like pandas, she promised,
the bamboo so sweet & green.
Hello, again.
It’s so quiet tonight;
you don’t even realize you’re been waiting
all these years to hear them say it.

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Today on Twitter!!!!





Stuff in the mirror that we're riding away from!!!

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Get rid of meaning. Your mind is a nightmare that has been eating you. Now eat your mind.
—Kathy Acker

Monday, September 18, 2017

Today on Twitter!!!!

You pick it up here!!!!



(I have exactly 0 followers on Twitter. I wonder why?)
The new issue of Angry Old Man Magazine

https://angryoldmanmagazine.com/300-2/

has some of my poetry in it.

Saturday, September 16, 2017

Today is our 5th Wedding Anniversary!!!
The traditional gift for a 5th wedding anniversary is something made of wood.
So I painted this wood spanking paddle for Daddy! ((& for me!))






btw: this is another reason men like sissies!

Today on Twitter!!!

What I see the only time I look up today!!!

Thursday, September 14, 2017


Men are from Mars…women are from Venus…and girls like me are from someplace outside the solar system altogether.