Sex

Having it, living it, anything pertaining to it.

An Apology, Mr. Limbaugh? And Tonight on Darkside Radio with DJ Xavier

The Octopus waves, beckons you to enjoy the show.

Octopus says: "Dance with the Green Faery!"

Greetings and Salutations! Last week, I am sure that you noticed that I was not on the air. Truth be told, I was feeling a bit under the weather after the night out at the strip club. But that is not what kept me from the airwaves. What kept me off was the stress from the drama of earlier that day with that horrid interview from last week that was all about making the Rothechilde Foundation look like a group of insensitive thugs due to a minor incident involving a few upset elephants. Although, I have weathered that storm, I am facing a similar, earth-shattering, internet radio stealing mental dilemma this evening as well.

What is this dilemma? Well, it is simple and two-fold. First, there was the clothing anxiety issue that almost sent me into anxiety overdrive. You see, I was asked to teach a jujitsu class as a substitute for my instructor who was off celebrating his birthday. That was not the problem, I can deal with handling that. The problem came as a result of my panicking because of my pants. They did not seem to be my pants.

For one, the color and texture of them felt “off.” The other problem was that they did not feel “right.” I felt like I was traipsing about in someone else’s legs or something. I had a hard time focusing on driving and maintaining my calm because I was focused on the idea that I was, at that time wearing pants that not only felt weird, but felt like they may have belonged to someone else. I mentioned this to my secretary, whom asked me who’s pants I thought they were (I did find them in my room). She asked me what about them made me feel as if they were not my pants and all I could reply was: “everything!” In any case, after teaching the class (for which I had to travel to the most wicked place in Michigan: Frankenmuth), I drove back to my Samurai City digs and quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a black mock turtle neck shirt. Actually, I would have preferred to be wearing slacks of some type, but the jeans worked well enough to stave off a full-fledged anxiety explosion.

The next issue that has my mind in a tizzy is this whole deal regarding Rush Limbaugh and Sandra Fluke. The story is, Rush called her a slut and a prostitute because she advocated health insurance plans covering health insurance. Her words to encourage state-sponsored baby anti-proliferation even had old Rushy boy calling for sex tapes so he could post them online. Surely, any whore who is seeking health insurance coverage for birth control must have a host of sex tapes from her numerous dalliances with shady men that are available for mass dissemination via some “porno tube” website.

This has me most concerned because Rush turned tail and apologized. Apologized! This surely is a different corpulent, angry bird of a politico that we have grown to love over the years. What happened, man? I was all for supporting the Republican idea that no one should ever use birth control. In fact, if you do not want children (and cannot afford a nanny or au pere to raise them, nor can you afford to travel to some other nation where abortions and contraceptives flow like milk and honey), then you probably should not have sex. Fucking is for people who can afford the luxury of preventing a potential pregnancy, or eliminating the accidental creation of little monster clones of yourself. If you cannot afford the traditional remedies offered by the wealthy (Brazilian abortions, French morning after pills, or European boarding schools), then either go celibate, or take your chances with a shady, back alley abortion specialist on the streets of Mexico or Seattle.

However, I was betrayed. Betrayal most foul! His Most Majestic Obesity back-pedaled and apologized to Ms. Fluke. He took back his venom and took the wuss way out all because a few sponsors decided to pull their ads from his show. Really? What the fuck, Limbaugh?! These sponsors knew what you were all about, and they probably support you in your medieval attitude towards women and civilization in general. But they know the score, Rush. They know that most people are afraid of the right-wing agenda. They know that people fear the wealthy and our insidious urge to keep the poor as destitute as possible, and as numerous; we need that population to subject and get cheap labor from. The problem is that you spoke the truth that we do not want spoken too often. Here is how it works:

  1. Have horrid right-wing, preferrably a near-racist and sexist attitude.
  2. Wait for some mouthy schmuck to voice this reprehensible concern.
  3. Silently agree, then pull sponsorship from the jerk to keep our customers content and unaware that your corporation fully intends to reward the jerk with perks, back slaps, and tickets to Nazis on Ice at the local ice arena.

Rush, you added an undesired step, and apologized! Now the liberal will know that we are cowards who only want a silent, subtle manipulation of the people. That is, unless they are trying to get a piece of our one-percent pie. If that is the case beat those bastards down and trample them with elephants. So, way to go Limbaugh: you made a girl cry, and then took it back like a wuss. What are you going to do next, put on your girly shorts and listen to Selena Gomez albums with your widdle, gurlfriends?

But enough of that satirical sarcasm, on with the show. Below is the list of artists appearing on tonight’s broadcast. To have a listen, tune your Internet browser to http://darksideradio.com. If that gives your trouble, try opening the link in your media player. But really, clicking the link should take you to the station. If it does not, keep trying. You want to listen, you know you do.

Tonight’s Featured Artists (Subject To Change)

Type O Negative

Bauhaus

Joy Division

Siouxsie and the Banshees

Oingo Boingo

The B-52’s

Sonic Youth

Dead Kennedys

Puscifer

Depeche Mode

The Cure

Blondie

The Police

Switchblade Symphony

Butthole Surfers.

Wednesday 13

Mindless Self Indulgence

Dragonette

Combichrist

Ministry & Co-Conspirators

Nine Inch Nails

Rob Zombie

Lacuna Coil

Bigod 20

Muse

Tool

The Smiths

Snake River Conspiracy

So, tune in tonight and enjoy the program. If you have Twitter, @XRothechilde and @Darksideradio give song-to-song updates during the show.

Commercials are from: “Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas” and “Grand Theft Auto IV”

Promotion spots for DJ Xavier produced and Created by: DJ Mirage, Ethermagus, and DJ Parallax

Advertisements

Friday Night with Charlotte

Last week was quite a week. It started with scandal and ended with an ugly attempt to discredit The Foundation. The scandal was a bit of ugliness involving The Foundation’s war elephants. While it seems that the issue should have been over quickly and with a few payouts here and there, that was not to be. Fortunately, I had a fun night out with Charlotte the Friday before the treacherous attempt to ruin your beloved charitable organization.

I could go on and detail the incidents that led to the horrors of the weekend, but instead, I have decided to go the honest route and provide the transcript of a local news programs morning interview of yours truly.

Bert Berterson: “Good morning. I’m Bert Berterson appearing on this special edition of ‘Samurai City Saturday Morning’ with local mogul, Xavier Rothe…”

Me: “Mogul?! What the fuck did you call me? I am not a snowy lump on a ski slope! Nor am I some brandy sipping curmudgeon sitting by some fireplace in some cavernous, drafty, Victorian mansion. I am a humble orchard operator and general all around nice guy. I am really tired of your slander and libel. You really need to get over that camera incident with Manthony.”

B.B: “No, that is not the issue. True, there have been ‘incidents,” but they aren’t what this interview is about. We are here to discuss the elephant rampage that you and your associates with The Rothechilde Foundation are responsible for causing, avoiding, and admitting no responsibility.

Me: “Berty darling, that is exactly what I am talking about! Okay, so unfortunate things may have happened. People may or may not have been allegedly had the misfortune of standing where an elephant may have been walking. Whatever the case, there is no need to start throwing around faulty, unproven allegations that could result in a hefty lawsuit or potential burying in a shallow grave in Nevada or somewhere.”

B.B: “Did, did you just threaten to kill me and bury me in Nevada?”

Me: “I have done no such thing! I was merely stating things that could happen to a person. I have never gone to Nevada. The sand would destroy my wardrode, I believe. Speaking of which, I have been experimenting with adding color to my wardrobe…”

B.B: “Let’s not get off topic, Mr. Rothechilde, Xavier, may I call you Xavier?

Me: “I would not if I did not want to get ‘punished’ severely.”

B.B.  “Ahem. Before we begin, let’s refresh your memory. Ronald, roll the footage please.”

At this moment, a clip was played that showed a large group of people hanging about Downtown Samurai City. In the background, the Foundation Thunderdome stood majestically in the background. In the foreground, more people. Then the clip cut over to the ass-biscuit that I was currently being tormented by in this interview. Mr. Berterson was interviewing people who were “Occupying Samurai City.” Yes, the wave of civil unrest and general unhappiness of the populist poor had spread to Samurai City and the occupiers were occupying various areas of the city. This was exactly why we at the Foundation came up with the idea to have the war elephants. The occupiers had not come as far as the Thunderdome, but a group of counter-occupiers had begun to head in our direction. These counter occupiers were those who supported the one percent or something like that. Berterson interviewed a few of them as well. Approximately two minutes into the clip, a wave of people could be seen coming toward the camera. In the background, the image and sounds of a herd of elephants rapidly approached the news crew. Fleeing to a safe area (who knew there was a safe place from a herd of stampeding elephants?), the camera still recorded, Berty-baby’s panicked reporting in the background:

Bert: “This is Bert Berterson! A herd of elephants is now rampaging in downtown Samurai City! People are running everywhere as complete and total pandemonium has erupted! Oh my God! An elephant just tossed a police car into the side of the bank! This, this is terrible! Absolutely terrible! Hey! Someone grab that little girl! What the hell are you talking about? You do it! I’m Bert Berterson! I’m not getting stepped on by a freaking elephant! What the hell?! Is that elephant wearing a monocle and a tophat? My God the police have shot the elephant in the tophat! Tophat elephant is down! Holy shit! That elephant has that old lady by the neck! Wait, wait…the elephant has gently set her down. People we have a miracle, the elephant just set her…Shit! He kicked her! The elephant kicked her! Oh my…oh my…she’s, she’s barely moving. Paramedics are trying to help her. Okay, she’s giving the thumbs up. What? Headed where? Oh shit! Run! Ruuunnn!!!

And the clip ended there. To be honest, I was very upset by that footage. There was not one mention or shot of Sister Constance and the nun-wranglers coming in, taking down the rest of the pachyderms with tranquilizers and getting them safely back to the Thunderdome. Two elephants were slaughtered by the man on that tragic day. The monocle and top hat have been turned into monuments in the arboretum.

B.B: “Now, Mr. Rothechilde, clearly you could see what a tragic series of…hey! Are you texting?”

Me: “Yes, you were boring me with that biased video footage. There was no mention of the nuns and their success at bringing this unpleasantness to an end. Not to mention you subjected me to having to witness the brutal slaying of the vainglorious Lord Phant, a pachyderm of distinguished character and with obviously superior fashion sense. I was consulting our legal team to be sure that my comments will not be taken out of context and that the video delay is sufficient for Foundation security personnel to edit out any sensitive information before this hits the airwaves.”

B.B: “What?!”

Blue Boy?

Me: “You know, like they do on awards programs to filter out the potty mouths. Anyway, about fashion. As I believe we were discussing briefly earlier I have been experimenting with making changes to my wardrobe. I have been adding color. Unfortunately, I do not have a picture of me in the lavender and purple, or gold-brown-black, but I do have a picture of me in blue. Ronald, show the clip, please. As you can see, instead of my trademark black and white two-piece combination, I am sporting a stylish three-piece suit. I even have on a blue tie. Blue! And took a picture that I did not insist be made black and white or some sort of old-timey sepia look. Eventually, I will have some photos of me in the other color schemes soon, and I may come back to your program to discuss them again at that time. However, thank you for the interview, it has been a pleasant…”

B.B: “Excuse me, sir! I tell Ronald what to do around here, and we weren’t discussing fashion. We’re here to talk about your reckless unleashing of elephants on our fair city and what exactly you plan on doing about it! You have some things to answer for sir!”

Me: “I do no appreciate your tone, little man. Now see here, if it were not for those stupid one percenters parading about in their diamonds and smelly perfumes, the elephants would not have gotten upset and that misfortune would never have occurred. The elephants were simply a part of a parade that The Foundation was sponsoring in support of the “Occupy Samurai City if You Want, But Stay the Fuck Away from the Thunderdome” rally. As you can see the rally was a success, the Thunderdome is untouched and still stands as a glorious symbol of compassion and beauty. And we are not even going to sue the city over our beloved Lord Phant. Although it has caused Sister Constance a great deal of sorrow. We had to give her an extended vacation, pay raise, and purchase a new elephant, monocle, and top hat to alleviate her lust for revenge.”

B.B: “Are you saying that the life of that elephant is worth more than the hundreds of people that were injured in carnage laid out by your elephant horde? Are you seriously equating humanity with lower animals?!”

Me: “Well, hypothetically, my statement would appear to be putting elephants above the rest of humanity, but then who needs to be splitting hairs here? Besides, no people were killed, and only a few were maimed or otherwise seriously injured. Further, the occupation business was horribly bad for the already weakened economy. Those people should have been out working and those one percent counter-protesters should have been out subjugating masses or otherwise managing some means of economic oppression. The fact is, those protesters were in all likelihood unemployed; do we need to show the world on the national news that we are a nation of corpulent, unemployed people? No sir! No, I say! If our impoverished looked like those pot-bellied Ethiopians, then maybe we would have something to bitch about. However, we are a corpulent nation that sits on couches and and gets to watch seventy-seven different versions of ‘Law & Order.”

B.B: “Mr. Rothechilde! That is completely reprehensible! Do you even hear yourself? Listen, the Vice President of The Rothechilde Foundation has even come out and said that mistakes were made…”

Me: “Yes! Mistakes were made. Many mistakes! Chief among them was letting that bastard out of the dunge…er, basement during the protests. Had he remained sedated and properly confined, our efforts to fix this bit of unpleasantness could have come to an end much sooner, and I would already be enjoying the adulation of the citizenry of this fair city instead of sitting here and subjecting myself to this horrid interview from a man with the fashion sense of a Mogwai.”

B.B: “What are you talking about?!”

Me: “Your suit is terrible. I know a guy, let me help you, baby.”

B.B: “You’re obviously out of touch. With me and the citizens of Samurai City. They don’t love you, no one loves…”

You are very welcome

Me: “Oh my! I ought to shoot you right in your ugly face! You smug son of a…excuse, what is it? Yes, I understand. Excuse me, that gentleman was one of our attorneys, he suggested, and smartly I should add, that by ‘shoot you right in your ugly face’ that I actually meant “write you a sternly worded note of disapproval, perhaps an email cc’d to your station’s management. As for the love thing, surely you are mistaken For example, take a look at this lovely bit of art; Ronald, show the picture please.”

B.B: “Now see here! Ronald is not one of your lackeys…”

Me: “Obviously, the artist appreciates me and felt that I was worthy of being immortalized in one of her brilliant creations. And then there is Sister Constance. For a nun, she really does go out of her way to accommodate my eccentricities (I am ignoring your lackey comment, by the way. Manthony with surely discuss that with you.) Then, and not the least, there is my personal secretary, whom does me an innumerable amount of service in great variety, and makes sure that I can function on a daily basis. And Charlotte! Dear Charlotte! Why just last night, we went out to a local titty bar…”

B.B: “You can’t say that on public television and this has nothing to do with the elephant incident.”

Me: “I believe I did just say that, and this has everything to do with the elephants. There is nothing better to ease the pain of a deceased elephant friend and huge publicity hit like going out to see some boobs. And this was a great night. There was s lady there named Suzie Malone. She did some classy burlesque dance, magic tricks, and she swallowed a sword. Man, that gave me ideas, I tell you! She even danced around with fire. Fire! Strapped around her waist and in the shape of hand fans she danced with fire. I even had my picture taken with her. It is a topless picture. I am not topless, she is, or else I would have brought it to show. I am not opposed to showing the boobs on television; I just do not want to share them with you.”

B.B: “That is all well and good, sir. But what does any of this have to do with the damage you have brought and the poor people that are suffering because of your mistake?”

Me: “You just really want to beat a dead elephant. Man. Fine. While it is unfortunate that a few people may have received a bump or two because of a few rambunctious elephants, we are not a bank, mortgage company, or publicly traded corporation with stockholders to rape and pillage. The government will not bail us out like they did the people who the occupiers are bitching about (is that what they are bitching about? or is it Obamacare, Afghanistan, gay marriage, or Rick Santorum’s tranny porn stash?). No, as always in these trying time The Rothechilde Foundation will rebuild the damaged property. We have already purchased some of the more severely damaged property and found locations for business owners to rebuild and relocate. We have even offered to allow these business to use the Foundation’s contractors for repair and construction and infrastructure at prices that are much lower than the local business clowns. We are hiring many of the disgruntled occupiers for this Samurai City Reconstruction, and all of this will benefit the local economy. Lord Phant did not perish in vain.”

B.B: “It sounds like all you are doing is making a selfishly greedy cash grab and attempt to increase your personal stake and interest here!”

Me: “And is that not the American Way? Thank you, Samurai City and good day. This is Xavier A. S. Rothechilde, signing out.”

B.B: “Hey!”

And the screen goes black…

Note: Mr. Rothechilde has always reveled in, and proudly proclaimed his status as being a hack writer. If you disapprove of the ending, then you were not paying attention to the original disclaimer. No refunds or apologies should be expected and none will be made.

Sincerely,

Rothechilde Foundation and Trust Legal

Happy New Year…!!!

…for some people, that is. As a Greco-Celt, I celebrated my new year back at the end of October, but to fit in with the minority of the world that believes it is the majority: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! I originally intended to write something a long time ago, to end my absence from blogging and hopefully get over my writer’s block, Curse of Athena, or whatever was keeping words from flowing from my head to the Internet. Instead of following my original plans, I just decided to wait until this day: the first of the days until the end of the world as we know it (I am not sure if I feel fine, however…)

A lot has happened since I last wrote, and nothing has happened. By a lot has happened, I mean a lot of things have gone on: people have been born, people have died, and much, much more. So much has happened that I should be posting a few blogs; that would be the responsible thing for a hack writer to do. However, I am feeling like an irresponsible hack and will take the cheesy easy way out and write a “list” of things that just happen to be on my mind to usher in the new year.

1) The End of The World

I do not think that the end of all that we know is coming on the Twenty-First of December, Two Thousand and Twelve. In the event that I may be wrong, I have definitely got to do something about getting involved in more threesomes. I know that this seems like a weird way to begin this post, particularly after employing that ominous heading. But the reason I started there is because that is the closest thing that I can think of having that one would consider a New Year’s Resolution, which if you read on, you shall see that I never make. Really, it is not even close to a resolution. It was actually a device to lead into the next topic while incorporating some sort of awareness that people will start really getting antsy about the end of civilization. I guess I am saying that while they are freaking out, I will be trying to get my freak on.

2) Do I Exhibit “Sub” Behavior?

I went to a local *club last night. The experience was totally new to me; I have never been out to any sort of bar/party/club on any New Year’s Eve. Well, technically, I still have never done such a thing – I went to the bar after midnight, so I began my year at one of Manthony’s establishments. While there, I strayed from my normal behavior and hung out by the door with Manthony for a bit, then went over and stood next to a table. But wait, I am getting ahead of myself.

After I had gotten there and said my hellos to Manthony and the delicious yum-yum working the door with him, I walked over to the bar and ordered an Absolut and tonic, with no lemon, lime or anything in it. I had noticed the rather portly fellow when I walked in and had also noticed that he had sidled up next to me at the bar, but assumed he was just getting a drink. He attempted to start up a conversation, and his tone suggested that he was, well, I am not sure what to call him yet. Just read on and it may become clear:

Dude: “Hey.”

Me: “Hello.”

Dude: “I’ve never seen anyone order a mixed drink and tell the bartender to “hold the produce.”

Me: “A lot of people touch those things. People without gloves, or potentially clean hands.”

Dude: “That’s pretty funny. You from around here?”

Me: “I am from up north, but stay down here from time to time.”

Dude: “You come to this bar often?”

Me: “An associate of mine works here, I drop in to say hello now and again.”

Dude: “That’s a nice suit.”

Me: “Thank you.”

I then excused myself from his presence and walked back over to the door area and resumed tending my space near the door near Manthony. Eventually, a table cleared up and I went over to the table and stood there with a space to rest my drink while sending Twitter updates voicing my displeasure at the dancing ability of the crowd. Really! I felt like I was watching a field of epileptic seals frolicking under a disco ball. Sure there were some folks who could move extremely well, but in general, it was a mass of people who were going to be masturbating at home, alone, after the bar if dancing ability was a prerequisite to getting laid.

Extremely pleased with how clever I was with my Tweeting adventure, I looked up from my iPhone and noticed that the portly fellow from earlier had a portly female friend with him, and if my observation was correct, they were trying to figure out how/if to join me at my table. Finally, dude strolled over and asked if they could share the table. I obliged.

Dude: “Hi again. This is my girlfriend, Frieda” (no real names are used in this tale).

Me: “Hello, Frieda.”

Dude: “I’m Corky. I didn’t catch your name before.”

Me: “I did not throw it. I am Xavier.”

Dude: “See? Told you he was funny. And check the suit.:

Frieda: “It is a nice suit. Corky says you’re from up north.”

Me: “That is my primary residence. My business is there and so is the family home. I stay here most of the time.”

Frieda: “I wanna dance. You wanna dance?”

Me: “Oh, no thank you. That floor is too crowded with spasmatics for me at the moment.”

Dude: “Ha! Fuckin’ spazs!”

He said that he was going to go for another beer and I decided to go out and have a cigarette. I had been out there smoking and taking in the scenery for close to ten minutes when I was joined by Frieda, who I learned smoked Marlboro menthols. We stood there in silence for a bit, when Frieda decided to take a giant ice pick and shatter the ice:

Frieda: “So, Corky never knows how to do these things…”

Me: “Smoke?”

Frieda: “Heh. No, he never knows what sort of guy a guy is. And so I hafta to try and figure things out. He thinks I’m good at judging things. Actually, I just find a time to just be blunt and ask whatever.”

Me: “Okay…”

Frieda: “Well, Corky and me were wondering if you’d like to leave the bar with us and maybe hang out at our place and you know…whatever happens, happens…”

Me: “Um…”

Frieda: “Corky likes to be with guys and girls. I mean, we could do some stuff together, but we’re mostly into finding a guy to be with Corky and me, rather than me and Corky. If that makes sense.”

Me: “Yes. Thank you for the gracious offer, but I must respectfully decline. I tend to engage in such fun with my dearest Charlotte and in her absence, I could never agree to such things.”

And we said some good byes and I did not see them any more for the remainder of the evening. I guess beyond the fact that I was not where near attracted to them on either level, I was a little offended by the offer. I mean, if I interpret the offer correctly, I was being invited to join in sexual submission with this couple, this woman and I were to be pleasured, but more so to pleasure him. Now, to each his own, and I may have my own unique interests, but I certainly not the type to allow myself to be the sex toy of some arrogant jock who cannot even talk to me on his own. Oh well, c’est la vie.

3) New Year’s Resolution?

I never make a resolution for the New Year. I know that as soon as I come up with one, I will have broken it by the time one second after the New Year begins. One could say that I should try harder. Yes, one could say that…and be ignored. I never make a resolution because I think it is pointless to set myself up for what I know is going to be a failure. If I had changes that I wished to make that were that substantial, I would have noticed and begun to make it before the advent of the New Year.

4) Demanding Merry Christmas

Okay. I get it. Christmas has been in my face for many months, and now that it is out of my face, I feel like I can bitch about it. If memory serves me, I began seeing ads for Christmas stuff before Samhain hit the calendar as more than a prospective holidate. However, the true horror of the season never really hits me until December. Actually, it hits me on the tenth of December: my birthday. I do not like to make a big deal out of my birthday, but on that day, I do not want to hear about Christmas shopping, gifts, or whatever. Less than that, I do not want to hear crap about someone’s right to go about and just wish people Merry Christmas.

Do you know what I am talking about here? No? Well, I shall expand on the issue. On December 10, 2011, someone posted something on my Facebook wall going on about how they had a right to hear Merry Christmas and resented the meaning being taken out of the public forum and saying “happy holidays” “and so on and so on and scooby dooby doo…” Hey! I do not care. I deleted the offensive propaganda. I deleted the offensive propaganda despite the fact that I abhor any act of censorship. I like to let things go to spur on debate, but the inevitable Jesus-ing up of my Facebook page had to be prevented.

Really. The whole deal is a bit presumptuous. I understand that Christmas is a big deal to SOME people. SOME people. However, not everyone celebrates that particular big deal and why in the Hell should the rest of us just accept your random wish of Happy Christmas when that may not be what we want to experience. You do not catch me wishing a wondrous Yule or gleeful Solstice (which, by the way, is the ONLY non-debatable holiday/occurrence of the month) to everyone I see and getting my drawers shredded because someone does not share my belief.

5) Jujitsu

There is really not too much to say here. I reconciled with my Sensei and my school. I received my official instructor’s certificate and got a new belt. The new belt is not one of new rank, it is just a new belt. You see, I had tied and untied my other belt so often that it had turned from black to green. The only way to tell my rank was from the kanji on the belt. A couple of months ago, I was given a new belt. Now, the other senior students have stopped making jokes that I got demoted, and I can stop having to explain the color of my belt to new students by hurting them more than necessary…lol

And so ends my first post of the year. The New Year that many think is the only and most important New Year. The New Year that is supposed to be the last year according to the Mayan calendar. A year, that for me, is eagerly anticipated, horribly dreaded, and ready for me to grab by the balls.

*I believe the hours of operation posted are incorrect.

MySpace Redux: Reprinted from 13 July 2008

Once again, I have drudged up a relic from the past: a post from my old blog back on MySpace. One thing that I remember from the MySpace era is that there used to be an abundance of surveys. Maybe these surveys still exist, but I have not been dealing much with MySpace, I do not use my Facebook account for more than the occasional poking of someone, and I have not attempted to use any sort of poll here on WordPress.

Most of the time, I ignored these surveys. However, occasionally a friend of mine would suggest that I do one, and depending on the friend, I would take the time to use the survey as a blog entry and get my survey on! On other occasions, I would see some perverse potential in the survey and gleefully steal said survey for my own blog. Below is a reprint of one of those surveys that I felt the need to steal, with the entry’s corresponding introduction and original title of the post. For those of you who remember or still use MySpace, my mood at the time was “gallant.”

It is Late and I Feel Unoriginal

"Juliette" from DeSade (Did he draw this or was it inspired by the book? If you know, please tell me!)

Instead of using my full creative force to astound and amaze you all, I will present you with my answers to a quiz I stole from a friend. Since I have waited so long to post it, it will seem as if I stole the idea from a friend of mine who is, apparently, also a princess with a major fetish for her own feet. Okay, I just added that bit to the end just to get her goat. Now, with goat in hand, I give you my quiz:

Adult Survey

Is there anyone on your friends list you would ever consider having sex with?
Indeed there are, and most of them know who they are already. 

Sex in the morning, afternoon or night?
Are you propositioning me? They all are good…

What side of the bed do you sleep on?
The left, usually. 

Pork, beef, or chicken?
Is this a trick question? In terms of an adult survey, the first one would be a verb while the others are usually nouns. I suppose it would depend on the use of the word. 

Have you ever had to pull over on the side of the road to puke?
Yes. 

Have you ever taken your clothes off for money?
No, I tend to just drop trow when the mood strikes. I may need to make a friend category here that includes people who have seen me naked. No, the semi-naked tattoo pictures on this profile do not count! 

Shower or bath?
Shower. Baths make me feel as if I am stewing in my own filth. I know that this may not be the case, but I just fear bathing. However, I am not opposed to a nice soak in one after a shower, or a hottub bash with a bevy of hot babes. 

Do you pee in the shower?
Hmm…due to circumstances which may incriminate me in the future, I choose to keep this answer to myself. 

Do you want someone aggressive or passive in bed?
Yes. However, most people who sleep with me have to deal with someone who is passive-aggressive in bed. 

Do you love someone in your friends list?
Yes. Fully and totally and with all of my soul. 

Do you know all the people in your friends list?
No. 

Love or money?
Love. Most people cannot support me monetarily…

Credit cards or cash?
Cash. It looks more impressive when you flash it at homeless people. 

Have you ever had anyone in your family you wish wasn’t?
Yes. Several. 

Would you rather go camping or to a 5 star hotel?
I would go camping in a Five-Star hotel. 

Where is the weirdest place you have had sex?
Either in a van on the Philadelphia turnpike, a rest area off of I-75, or on a pier-like thing in a public park. 

Would you shave your entire body (including your head) for money?
No. 

More imagery inspired (or from) DeSade

Have you ever been to a strip club?
Yes, several times. On a few occasions strippers have followed me home and hung out in my living room until sunrise after visiting a strip club. 

Ever been to a bar?
Yes, several times. On a few occasions strippers have followed me home and hung out in my living room until sunrise after visiting a bar. 

Ever been kicked out of a bar or a club?
Yes. Well, not personally, I was with someone who was ejected and went out to the parking lot to mock his drunken, beaten up ass. Then I went back into the bar. 

Ever been so drunk you had to be carried out of somewhere?
Nope. I am too afraid of midgets taking advantage of me to get that drunk. 

Kissed someone of the same sex?
The same sex as whom? 

Ever had sex in the bathroom?
Yes. Did you know that anal sex works really well in a shower? 

Have you ever had sex at work?
Yes, I have. Ask my secretary…

Have you ever been in an “adult” store?
Yes. I did not craft every item in my collection of cockrings, DVD’s and edible dildos. 

Have u ever bought anything thing from an “adult” store?
Yes. I did not craft all of my own cockrings, DVD’s and edible dildos

Ever been caught having sex?
Accidentally or intentionally? 

Do you have any naughty pics of anyone that you know personally?
Yes, I have plenty. And if those individuals do not wish to avoid any negative political, marital, or legal issues, then they will keep their mouths shut and the pictures may be forgotten. What? Of course that is not what you meant by naughty. My answer still stands. But more erotically, yes, I do have nakedly naughty pictures of many people. Friends AND foes...

Does anyone have naughty pics of YOU?
Yes, including some strange Canadians who unsuccessfully tried to fuck my secretary and I. I hope they still do not have her trapped in their cell phone. However, we at the Foundation are very concerned with any use of any Foundation Board Member’s likeness; any pictures of yours truly are not only copy written, but are encoded with tracking devices and/or viruses that will burn out the eyes of thieves and malcontents.

Have you ever had sex with someone and called them the wrong name?
Not exactly…

Who do you think has the guts to repost this?
Most of the people that I know, however, they will not repost it.