Excerpt from My First Novel Yellow Socks Confessions of a Non Don Juan

June 4, 2012

An Excerpt from my 2010 novel Yellow Socks- Confessions of a Non Don Juan

 

Skeleton Woman or Things Like Me Don’t Happen To You

 

Christ it happened again. Another notch in my “girls that want to be my friend” belt. It made sense. We were perfect friends and she was real cute too. I kept thinking that I was ok with it. I’d be happy just being a friend again. I keep turning to God for strength to accept my fate as “Friend to all women” that I’m attracted to. My acceptance level seems to be ok. I go to my happy place. I go to my cave. I say the serenity prayer over and over I am sure that I will be ok with this. Yes I will. (no I won’t)

 

Cut to a scene from Fight Club

 

TYLER

Stop it! This is your pain — this is your burning hand. It’s right here! Look at it.

 

JACK

I’m going to my cave. I’m going to my cave to find my power animal!

 

TYLER

No, don’t deal with this the way those dead people do. Come on

!

JACK

I get the point, ok, please!

 

TYLER

No, what you’re feeling is premature enlightenment.

 

Ok. I get the idea. Feel the pain. Feel the hurt. Feel the rejection saturating my heart until I bleed more than just these words all over the place and finger my open sore of a brain as it wants to dwell on her over and over again. Screaming and roaring her name with anger and grief and sometimes a slight relief that it’s done and I know that she will not reject me again unless I go back for more and more or less or a little bite of her cheeseburger and a sip of her Pepsi to tide me over until the next one comes along with better food and spirits for my, for me for. Four scores of seven years itch as I scratch the weathered tired out mongrel of an ego that was left stray years ago in a pound for wayward hearts and letches that can only love and never be loved.

 

The pain of being a friend. A friend. I’ve heard that “Let’s just be friends” millions of times in my life as I gargle a new mouthwash and toothpaste hoping my breath will be the answer to my problem. My problem is as follows: me, myself and I. We altogether are the problem. We want to be loved so bad that we give off the vibe that scares the shit out of women so they just want to be friends. Friends. Friends. I think to myself that will be fine. Friends is ok. It’ll do. I can accept that. Bullshit! Feel the pain I tell myself. Embrace it. the pain is your friend. To hurt is to be alive. I’ve never been so alive. I’m alive. So alive.

 

“Did you ever hear about the skeleton woman?” Morton asked.

 

“Was that a Glam rock band from the seventies?” I ask.

 

“Ha. Ha. Nah. It’s an ancient Indian story. This guy was fishing in the middle of a lake. He was totally into it. He was relaxed. Not a care in the world except catching the next fish. All of a sudden he feels a tug on his line and he yanks it up. A skeleton appears on his line. He doesn’t realize that it’s attached to his line and he gets scared. He starts paddling his boat away from it but it follows him. He still doesn’t realize that it’s attached to his line. He gets out of his boat and runs into the village and he is carrying his fishing rod and the skeleton is still right behind him. He jumps into his Tee Pee and it follows him in. He lies down and tries to hide not looking at it for a while. When he finally turns to look at the skeleton it has changed into the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. She is his. The moral of the story is that he was minding his own business doing something he enjoyed and that’s when the right woman came along. In other words when you are not looking for love is when it will find you. ”

 

“I know that but it’s so fucking hard to stay focused on other things without thinking about how much I want to be loved. Fall in love. Ya know?” I responded.

 

“I know. I know.” Morton said.

 

“We’re a generation of men raised by women. I’m wondering if another woman is really the answer we need.” Tyler Durden

 

To purchase click here

Advertisements

Dream Girl Returns as a Lover (Guardian Angel?)

January 17, 2012

I felt her tongue in my mouth and I was the happiest man on earth. To kiss her was a dream come true. My Guardian Angel kissed me.

It started on some sort of shopping spree and she was taking me to different places buying me things and holding my hand and I was confused because she wasn’t in her guardian angle form. Not that she ever is. I call her my guardian angel because she has lead me away from negative situations and helped me out in previous dreams. She is based on a real girl I know in her mid-late 20s that I rarely talk to and see online once in a while. I named her Carmella the first time I wrote about her in a blog titled Dream Girl is my Guardian Angel but her name is Bailey. She won’t read this and if so . . . well I’ll deal with or not then.

So Bailey is taking me to familiar and unfamiliar places and we are happy. I felt the way I used to feel when I was on vacations with previous girlfriends during the courting or just past the courting stage. In the back of my head I was confused. First of all, she has a boyfriend and it seems they’ve been together since high school.  She would rarely give me the time of day in real life. Not to say she was or is a snob. She just never had a reason to talk to me. I’ve admired her from afar. I also didn’t know where were in the dream. It felt like Philadelphia and New York with a touch of San Francisco. Maybe my writing about hanging out with a few girls in San Francisco in my next novel is rubbing off into my dreams.

We ended up kissing on the sidewalk wherever we were. Heavy making out. I felt her tongue hit my tonsils and loved it. I haven’t had a kiss like that in almost 2 years. We hugged and then hurried to our hotel room. In the dream I went with it as if I knew there was a room. I settled in the room and saw her take her clothes off and she came to me again and kissed me wearing her white bra and panties. I was still in shock and thrilled to realize it was a dream. It was more real than being awake. She was dressed again. And I followed her outside to the sidewalk. Her boyfriend was there and she looked at me in a way I knew she was going to give him another goodbye talk. Then she took him into my room at a new house and we were no longer at the hotel.

I let them have their time. I was overall confident that Bailey was mine but still was anxious for him to leave. It reminded me of when I dated a married woman that was separated and the 3 of us hung out. I walked into the living room and it was a combination of a few houses I’ve lived and my aunt and uncle’s house in Michigan. My grandmother was alive and there with aunts and uncles and cousins. My blood relatives and my adopted relatives were all there. I was so distracted by having my fantasy girl, my dream girl after going so long without love I had trouble enjoying my family. Everyone was talking to me. Someone said that I was going to miss my flight home. I thought I was home and Bailey and her boyfriend were in her my bedroom. I felt love in the room but I wanted the love in the bedroom, forgetting Bailey has appeared as my guardian angel in the past.

I thought of her kiss, closed my eyes and smiled. I woke up and it was only 11 pm. I felt happy for some reason even though I never resolved anything in the lucid dream. It will come to me. It always does.

Also read my poem called Guardian Angel Protection


Another Day

August 7, 2011

I figured I’d post this old comic strip I did that still sums things up sometimes.


Gloryhole Church???

September 16, 2010

No Church and State. What about Church and sex? The Catholic Church has been found guilty of plenty of scandalous sexual accusations that have been confirmed and unconfirmed. These are small isolated cases but have ruined their reputation nonetheless.

What about a Church that not only endorses sex for pleasure, they create an environment for anonymous sex in the name of God?  The Glory Church Centre in Lordsburg, New Mexico is place of worship; prayer, meditation and you can have anonymous sex. No. There are no holes in the confessionals. That’s the Catholic Church. There are no confessionals. In the bathrooms of the church (there are 4 rest rooms through out the church) there are holes in the walls of the rest room stalls.

Pastor James, who founded the Church in 1996, declined to comment and wishes for no publicity. Church members insist that it is legal and everyone that participates is respectful to the recipients. One member said that “we do not pray or worship during the sex act but we meet up and pray when we are finished.”

Apparently, the Church is non denominational so all are welcome as long as they are respectful, clean and practice safe sex. God bless ‘em, I say.


Serial Killer Kids Cartoon Starring Charli

July 18, 2010

This is from the Serial Killer Coloring Book #1.666(or issue #2) from 1999.


%d bloggers like this: