Jason Rimbaud

So we have been open for a month. And I know the pandemic has been heartless for countless small businesses around the world. Thousands of restaurants have closed forever, who knows how many people are out of work due to these closures. So it might have been foolish on the surface to open a new restaurant at this particular time. But we did. I am also saddened by the damage that has been done to the San Francisco restaurant/hospitality scene. A lot of my friends lost everything and it is heartbreaking. The only good thing, after two years, those friends that moved away are slowly moving back. “N” and I were standing outside our restaurant a few days before we opened kicking around ideas on how to get the word out that we have the best damn wings in San Francisco, when we saw a group of middle schoolers, about ten to twelve boys, walking down the sidewalk. He pointed out the group and said, “there goes our lunch crowd in a few weeks.” We watched as the group of middle schoolers suddenly took off running as a group across the lawn towards a single middle schooler. As a group, they jumped the single kid and started kicking him and punching him. Then they stole his shoes and his bag and took off running down the street causing several cars to come to a sudden stop. I turned to him and said, “maybe we should make them order to-go only.” So I have gone the entire pandemic without catching Covid. I have been working steadily and have been around people the entire time. Covid has run rampant through both of our restaurant groups. Between all our locations, when i was working for someone else, had about 40 cases in the three locations. “N’s” restaurant group has had more cases than I could count. He also had three deaths related to Covid. It’s been a hard two years on that front. “N” and I were talking yesterday about how lucky we were to escape Covid as we have been working with the public since day one. Our entire circle of friends have had it at some point. So I brought up that we might have had Covid but never had symptoms. He shrugged and finished his Mojito. Why doesn’t underwear come with a warning label, “might cause pregnancy.” Does anyone have a favorite color for their undies? Mine is red. I have upwards of twenty pairs of red undies alone. For some reason, and my husband agrees, my thingy looks great in red. Briefs, boxers, jocks, Mr. S Leathers, any type really. By the way, Mr. S Leathers, a San Francisco original has some of the best fetish accessories I’ve ever seen. Prices are a bit on the high side but the upside, you get really good quality. Which brings me to the subject of toys. Does anyone like to use toys in your relationship? I do. I have about a hundred little metal cars that I force my husband to play with me. He doesn’t like to but I guess it’s better than seeing me cry. I’ve been creating my own personal Christmas Village for the last few years. Building houses out of balsa wood, popsicle sticks, and plywood. I find it very relaxing to build, paint, and construct my perfect little Pennsylvania town. I have chocolate shops, Santa’s workshop, reindeer barns, ice skating ponds, colored sand to mimic ice and snow. And a Mr. S Leather store, complete with tiny dildo’s in the windows. “I’m getting rid of Britta, getting rid of the “B”, she is a “GDB”. For the last few months I’ve realized that without a real direction in my life, I tend to ramble on about underwear. I really don’t think we spend enough time focusing on underwear as a culture. Underwear has so many uses. Support, keep your junk nice and tight while running. The right type of material can help keep you dry and itch free for your twigs and berries. Boxers for that loosie goosie feeling for your peen. Boxer Briefs to keep your bulge, well, bulging. Jockstrap to show off your ass in the gym. Thongs to get your partner boned up in a hurry. In my sluttier days, I wore different types of underwear based on the mission I had for that particular evening. Jockstraps were for dancing in the club and showing off my goods. If you saw me in the club wearing a jockstrap, then I was ready for some fun in the downstairs bathroom. Boxers are only used for sleeping. A practice I learned from Jason all those years ago. Boxer Briefs are always my go to style to make my bulge look good in jeans. Briefs are the perfect accompaniment for sweat pants and T-Shirts. And no, I don’t work at Mr. S Leathers. I’m just a fan of their products. Mr-S-Leather Warning Explicit Content

Sitting around alone in a kitchen doesn't make for compelling reading...but I am wearing my fuzzy bunny slippers so who knows!

I'll always write, whether or not I post it, who knows. But thanks.

So I’ve been in the restaurant/hospitality business for over twenty years. And I can’t believe that after twenty years, I just did this. And before I go into what life changing craziness I just decided to embark on, let me tell you about my writing. Some years back, I lost the memory stick that contained all my writings for the last thirty years. And yes, not only did it hold all my stories, notes, outlines, it also contained all my work notes that I had gathered over the years. I’m not sure which hit me harder, the writings or all the content I had created that I used on the daily for work. So I decided to gather all my writings into google sheets to ensure I never again lose my tattered attempts at writing. I have already lost way too much due to losing memory sticks, crashing computers, and random acts of god. And in this attempt to make sure I got literally everything I ever wrote/posted online, I went back to 2002 and took everything I wrote for Nifty. And as I was copying those stories, I made the mistake of actually reading them. Have you all seen this trend of people reacting to things on YouTube? If I wasn’t so bald and fat I would so do a reaction video of myself reading those “stories”. Talk about bac, I can’t believe I once thought those stories were gold. In my defense, at the height of my online posting, I was getting up to fifty emails a day with these little stories. So more than a few people fed into this delusion. I even won a few readers choice awards. Trust me, in no way am I defending these “stories”. Trust me, I won’t even tell you the name I once wrote under. That’s how embarrassed I am about the words I wrote and posted all those years ago. And it wasn’t Jason Rimbaud so don’t bother checking. I’ve been in the restaurant/hospitality pretty much my whole life. I started as a bartender at twenty-one in a redneck bar in the backwoods of Pennsylvania and somehow moved up over the years to where I’ve worked for several celebrity chefs and amazing start-ups that are still flourishing even through the pandemic. I’ve opened seven restaurants for other people and have been on the ground floor of one of the fastest growing brands in the San Francisco Bay Area. As a writer, something I love doing, I’ve only really attempted to write full time back in the early 2000’s. I took four years and all I did was try and get published. And yes, I managed to get my stories in a few anthologies, a few poetry books over the years but I was never really good enough to break into the big time. I think my biggest issue, at least back then, my stories had such a small targeted audience. I write gay fiction. Well, I once wrote slash gay fiction but that’s another story all together. Gay fiction isn’t really burning up the charts and unless you manage to find work at a streaming service. But I never really wanted to write for a show, my love has always been books/novels. I will admit for the last fifteen years or so, I haven’t really focused that much on writing. A few years ago, I had almost finished a book about an alien invasion in Washington State, real end of the world stuff. And then my memory stick fell out of my shoulder bag and I ran over it a few times. I have since tried to recreate the story but I could never get it right. It was over five years work lost in a single moment. And that bummed me out. I thought I was destined to work in a restaurant for the rest of my life. But then something happened a few weeks ago that would change my life forever. Some of you know that I’m married. And “N” is also in the restaurant/hospitality industry. But he hates it. So two years ago he started going back to school to get a degree in accounting. And he did, a month ago he graduated with honors with his bachelor degree all the while he worked a full time job. And once he graduated, “N” and I were talking about the next steps. We spend a boatload of money on his degree and he really wants a job where he can use it. The biggest problem we both face, we have been successful in restaurants. And for those of you that don’t really understand what that means, let me explain. When you reach a certain point in your career, no matter what your field is, you have a track record of success. And people pay extremely well for that track record. I know people are complaining about the restaurant/hospitality industry not paying well. But if you have the right resume, you can make really good money. Especially when you’re offered profit sharing. Both of us have been wanting to leave the restaurant industry for some time. But we had been so successful that if we were to make a move on a fresh career, we’d have to take a dramatic pay cut. As much as fifty thousand a year. And we have worked way too hard to make a life for ourselves, that going back isn’t a viable option. We aren’t rich by any standard. We live in the most expensive city in the country, so if you don’t make at least one hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year, you’re living paycheck to paycheck. But we are comfortable. In my spare time, I have been collecting all my old writing. An hour here, an hour there, while maintaining a very stressful opening for my restaurant group. One of my old stories caught my attention. It’s a love story set on St. Martin, with a small little hook that I thought wasn’t that bad. Not the writing, it was horrible. But the overall plot was kind of cool. And in my reading, instead of copying and pasting, for some reason I decided to transcribe it instead. This led me to actually rewrite the entire thing from top to bottom. It was around 120 pages originally and now it’s a bit more. I am working on another draft as we speak so I don’t know where the final word count will end. But I’m having the time of my life. After one stressful day, I was complaining to “N” about how much energy I’m putting into this latest opening. And how I’m getting frustrated in making other people money. And yes they pay me for all my energy, but at the end of the day, the owner benefits way more than I do when I successfully open a new location. “If you don’t like it, why don’t you quit.” That was “N’s” sage advice. So I replied, “And do what? Go work for someone else?” “You’ve opened a billion restaurants for other people, why don’t we open our own?” For anyone who has read my musing, you know that I love super spicy hot wings. I have been known to drive 45 minutes to San Jose so I can get my 4 Alarm Hot Wings from SmokeEaters. I have literally been to every wing place in the San Francisco Bay Area trying their “hot” wings. And besides SmokeEaters, I have always been disappointed. So over the last ten years or so, I have been creating my own spicy wing sauces. I have perfected that art of cooking chicken wings and have some amazing sauces that I think are better than anyone’s currently in San Francisco. “Why don’t we open our own?” Fuck yeah, so that’s what I did. As of June 1st, we are now business owners. We have been opened for the last three weeks and I’m having the time of my life. “N” and I have decided to take our future in our own hands. So now when I’m working eighty hours a week, it’s at least for myself and our future. Life is good.

Chit & Also Chat Equals an Upset “N” May 12th, 2022 I can’t believe it’s already May 12, 2022. Life seems to move faster and faster the older you get. I’ll be fifty in two and half years. Where the hell did the time go? Just yesterday I was twenty year old chasing fuzzy bunny slippers and now I’m lucky to find my slippers. Not sure if that is a euphemism. But it sounds dirty so I’ll allow it. So I’m bald. But that’s been for like ten years now. I’m one of the lucky ones. My head is perfectly round like a bowling ball, it also has three holes in it. Wait, I’m forgetting a few holes, that’s so not like me to forget a hole I have. Told you I’m getting old. Remember when I was obsessed with my drug weight and how I hated to be sober because it made me fat? And once I quit drugs my friends used to say that I was finally getting to a “healthy weight”. Which we all know is code for fat ass. Well, no one accuses me of that anymore. And I’m a few pounds heavier than I used to be. I’m married, for three years now. We have been together for almost seven years. So my days of chasing train twinks and straight boy crushes are long behind me. As well as any type of sex. I’m trying to tell you that I never have sex anymore. And it’s not like I don’t try to jump my husband's bones/bone at every opportunity. For some reason he hates it when I try to dry hump him in the middle of Target. He’s such a prude sometimes. I am now the owner of two cats, Chit and Chat. So my once pristine carpets are destroyed and filled with stains. And not the fun stains that I am accustomed to cleaning. Fur balls, and vomit and that’s just from my husband. My job is amazing. It keeps me busy but opening new locations and getting into the corporate side of the business is so much fun. I don’t want to tell them that I would do it for half the money they are paying me. Even I think they pay me way too much for the work I accomplish. My husband, I love the way that sounds by the way. My husband just graduated from an online college for accounting. He decided to change careers at *insert age*, and is now living his best life as a stuffy accountant. Did I mention that he crammed a three year program into one year? Did I also tell you that he did that while working a full time job? Did I also tell you that he graduated with one of the highest rankings in the year? Boom, humble brag about my husband, no regrets. The last three months, I have begun gathering all my writings, Blog entries, poetry, and converting them to Google Docs so I can keep them all in the same place. During this process, I first started with my Blog at AwesomeDude. I went all the way back to the very first one with the intention of copying and pasting into Google Docs. But I found myself re-reading the entries and I found so many errors, spelling or grammatical that I actually rewrote all of them. From start to finish. I wasted almost two months rewriting them all before I started on my poetry, and I am now working on all the stories I posted under a name that none of you know. Did you know that twenty years ago I was rather prolific on Nifty writing fan fiction? Did you also know that I won several Boy Band awards writing under my first pen name? You didn’t, because they were all fucking horrible. I know, because I am reading/rewriting them now for some weird reason. Maybe one day I’ll let you read them so you can see how much they suck. Getting back to my Blog, boy was I a mess back then. Do you remember those angst filled, drug induced, straight boy crushes that almost killed me? I don’t. It was like looking at someone else. I guess I am so far removed from that person that I actually enjoyed reading the old entries. On entertainment value, I’d say my Blog was a 9 out of 20. On personal growth, 20 out of 20. I posted on several different sites over the years. And as I have been gathering them all together, I have come across stories I completely forgot I wrote. Poetry that was really good, it’s under my name but I’ll be damned if I remember writing them. Is this what happens when you finally get your shit together and grow up? I used to be a clean freak, I’d have marathon cleaning sessions. In each room of my apartment/house, all the carpet had to be vacuumed in the same way, each with complete straight lines. I washed the baseboards every week, dust the tops of doorways, clean all the doors to my kitchen cabinets. Scrub the floor and if I’d find even one little stain on my carpet, I’d shampoo the entire thing. But that was before “N”. Upon reading my Blog, it seems that all the men I dated/fucked are messy. It’s easily the one thing that connects all my hookups together. I still hate leftovers, I don’t understand why you need to have leftovers? Why? You never fucking eat them. Throw them away. Why do you constantly make me clean up after you by cleaning out the fridge every few days of leftover food that you just had to save? “N” comes home from work. Before I tell you that, let me explain a little about “N”. “N” is 110 pounds if I put rocks in his pockets and weigh him fully dressed including shoes. And he’s five foot nine inches, so he’s not short. The only reason I tell you this is to explain why I do five loads of laundry each week with only two people in the house. “N” wears this every time he leaves the house. Three to four pairs of long johns, a pair of jeans/pants, three pairs of socks, a Tank-Top, a T-Shirt, a pullover sweater, a hoodie, and of course undies. That’s seven days a week! Before I came into his life, I’m not saying that he wore the same long johns, socks for days on end, but he was only doing one load of laundry a week. I’ll let you decide his clothing habits. So when my lovely husband comes home after a long day at work. The other thing about “N” is, when he was going to school full time, he was also working full time. He is as dedicated, driven a person as I ever met. He’s smart, way smarter than I will ever hope to be. He’s hot, fucking hot in a can’t believe I get to see you naked whenever I want kind of way. He’s so fucking hot if I wasn’t so in love with him I’d want the whole world to see his naked ass. But he’s a messy mother fucker. He comes home from work, after studying five or six hours in the morning before working an entire day, and his shoes get thrown in different directions, he takes off his long johns, and pants, and undies in one motion. So I have three to four long johns, pants, undies, all inside out, layered on top of each other. His socks come off the same way, three pairs inside out layered, his sweater and hoodie, inside out and layered…in a heap on the kitchen or living room floor. He then gets a new pair of undies, sleep pants, three pairs of socks, a Tank Top, T-Shirt, and a sweater/hoodie. Then he crawls into our bed, we have three thick comforters and he still complains he’s cold. I’m in the house, in a pair of shorts, sweating because he has the fucking heat turned up to the hell setting. Our two cats, Chit & Chat, are literally open mouth breathing because of the heat. And he’s fucking cold. He then gets ready for bed. He takes off the sweater/hoodie, the T-Shirt, throws them on the floor next to our bed, and goes to sleep. In the morning, he gets a new T-Shirt, sweater/hoodie and puts them on. After he takes a shower, he takes off his undies, his three pairs of socks, his Tank-Top, his T-Shirt, and his sweater/hoodie and puts them on the bathroom floor. Right next to the laundry basket, because he prefers his clothes on the floor. I love him. We have four laundry baskets around our house. For one, because for some reason we go through a lot of dirty clothes. But mainly because I always have a laundry basket handy for me to pick up his clothes from the floor and put it inside the basket. He then starts the whole process all over again. I do a lot of laundry. Do you understand how much time I spend just turning his clothes right side out before washing them? You don’t because no one is as messy as my husband. Not your husband, or any husband that has ever been a husband in the history of the entire fucking world. September marks the 16th year I’ve had a Blog on Awesome Dude. Sixteen long years of rambling, digressions, and pointless rants that my one loyal reader has had to put up with. I feel sorry for whoever that person is. I probably have made him/her/they dumber in the process. But that’s the risk you run when reading anything I write. You must have missed the disclaimer. I’ve been toying with the idea of doing something special in September. Like maybe I’ll post nudes in my Blog, one nude for each year my Blog has been hosted at Awesome Dude. I could probably find a nude from every year. Then all you could see the way I’ve gotten balder on my head and hirsute in my ears and upper shoulders. By the way, no one ever told me that not only does hair grow out your ears the older you get, but for some reason my eyebrows are getting bushy as well. Fuck you all for keeping that secret from me. I also thought I could do a Blast from the Past section in my Blog. Posting something once a month to remind my one loyal reader of the absurdity of my past. Or I could work in the titles of my old entries with a link for those who might want to revisit those digressions. Seriously, when I read the entry “I’ll Never Wear Boxers Again”, it might be one of the best things I wrote here. But all that sounds like a shit ton of work and I’m way too lazy to do any of that. Though I did have fun going through my photos finding all the nudes I’ve taken over the years. I don’t want to slut shame myself, but I was a fucking slut. Some of the photos I looked at and thought, why did I get laid so often in my youth? There is a whole series of just Las Vegas photos that would make a seaman blush. Boom, my first cum joke of this Blog, no regrets. “N” had wanted a dog from the first moment I met him. I’m not an animal person. If anyone remembers an entry called “Giant Can Of Red Bull, Spearmint Gum, and a Pack of Marlboro LIght's” would know that. I completely refused to get a dog. They are messy, dirty, and stain the carpets. I would not have a dog in my fucking house. Plus, I have a hard enough time cleaning up “N’s” shit on the daily. The last thing I want to do is clean up actual shit from the street a few times a day. The one thing I make “N '' do, he must clean the litter box. And if he “forgets” I dump a bit of fresh litter on his side of the bed to remind him. Just a little game we like to play. Don’t you worry about that. Chit is an orange tabby female cat. According to “N”, orange tabby females are very rare. Chit was brought home about 10 months ago. Chit is a very nice cat, cleans herself often, has a clean butthole, and much to “N’s” chagrin, is my cat. Chit follows me around the house, no matter where I’m at, Chit is right there next to me. Chit helps me do laundry, helps me clean, offers advice while I’m playing video games, watches me while I eat. What else, she’s 11 pounds at 10 months old, so she is still a kitten. Oh, and she fucking sleeps on my face every night. “N” is always cold. I have tried to get Chit to sleep with “N”. But for some reason, Chit is not happy unless her ass is firmly pressed up against my mouth. I sleep on my left side, facing my wonderful if not messy husband. My arm is stretched out like I’m trying to stay connected to him in our sleep. Chit sleeps in the corner of my arm, her head facing “N”, her ass in my mouth. And when I move my head back a few inches to get a breath that’s not filled with hair, she presses back until she makes contact with my mouth. Six hours a day I have to put up with this cat needing me to breathe on her ass. Chit wakes me up every morning at 3am by slapping my face with her paws. She will continue to slap me until I roll over on my back where she will then sit on my chest, her face about an inch from my mouth and demand head rubs for about twenty minutes. Once she decrees that she is finished with head rubs, she will smack my face for me to roll back over on my side where she will assume her position of staring at my husband with her ass back in my mouth. At five am, she will start head butting me until I get up to feed her. Once she is fed, I am dead to her for about seven hours. She sleeps next to my husband, purring in his ear. Chit is a very proper cat. She lays down with her paws crossed, staring blankly at me as I move around the house. The upside, I can do anything I want to her and she doesn’t seem to care. I touch her paws, trim her nails, rub her belly, all this she takes in stride. Have you ever given someone a “raspberry”. You know, you put your lips on them and blow out. I do this to her all the time, and she just sits there with a look on her face of “continue, let me know when you are done.” To get my revenge on her, when she is sleeping in the ray of sunshine that comes through our patio door, I start rubbing her head, her belly, anything to wake her up. Then once she goes back to sleep, I’ll do it again. One time I timed it, I fucked with her sleeping for thirty minutes and she didn’t move more than her tail twitched. Chit likes to take showers with me. She gets soaking wet and likes to run to my sleeping husband plop down on his chest. It’s one of his favorite ways to wake up in the morning. About two months ago, “N” decided that our perfect little proper cat is depressed. So he brings home a little psycho that we named “Chat”. Chat was abandoned, so she never had a mother to teach her things like, how to groom herself, how to cover her waste, or how to do anything. So we have a complete psycho that has disturbed our lives in ways that we will be feeling for years to come. If you thought I was mean to Chit for fucking with her while she sleeps, then you haven’t seen nothing what Chat does. It took us about a week to bring the two together. Chit and also Chat are now friends. They sleep together, groom each other, steal one another's food, shit in the same box, and generally cause mayhem in our lives. I know I said Chit was a proper cat. But that was a lie. Chit has destroyed my carpets, my couch, my top comforter, and all the strings to every single hoodie I own. All of them. She is a complete nightmare walking. I cut her nails, we have scratching posts all over the house, but she refuses to use them. I fucking hate her. No matter where Chit is, Chat will stalk her in a way that only a two pound kitten can do, unsteadily. Chat will creep up and then run at full speed and launch herself into Chit. I find it crazy that Chit is so gentle with Chat. She could easily knock her into next month but I’ve seen Chit actually run into a wall to avoid stepping on Chat. The other day, remember, Chat has only been in our house for five weeks, Chit must have gotten tired of the smell because Chat hasn’t learned to groom herself. Chit ran over and forced her to the floor, and started cleaning her from nose to tail. “N” and myself were cheering her on by saying, “clean her butthole, teach her to clean her butthole”. And Chit being a proper cat, did just that. No more smelly Chat. Boom, kind of a Friends reference, some regrets. “N” was hoping when he brought Chat home, that he would finally get a cat of his own to shadow him all over the house. He took off four days to make sure I was at work so she would bond with him. He demanded that only he be the one to feed her. After the first day was over, and I was heading into work, the moment the door shut behind me, Chat started crying at the door and did so for the rest of the day. When I get home, Chat comes running to me no matter what she is doing. So now I have two cats, Chit and Chat, sleeping on my face. Chat is learning that if she smacks me in the face during the night, she will get head rubs too. I now get woken up in shifts, one for Chit, and one for Chat. Believe me, I thank my husband every morning by waking him up when they wake me up. It's a game we love to play. A game that has evolved into my husband threatening to move into the guest room if I insisted on playing it with him. We so love to kid each other. Where was I? That’s right. I’m happy.

The Wheel of Time: A Rambling, Digression Filled Review By: A Fan of the Books So somewhere & somewhen, I started replying in a Wheel of Time: The Series thread and realized after a few pages that it was way too long to post in a thread. Plus it was filled with colorful metaphors, talks of naughty bits, and generally senseless ramblings that I decided about that time for a new Blog Entry by the amazing Jason Rimbaud. Or is that the absent Rimbaud? Doesn’t matter. But before I start to bore you with my thoughts about a show that has been finished for almost three months, let’s go back in time. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. But definitely in the realm of times. The year was 1993, this little freckled-faced boy, who was filled with hopes and aspirations of one day becoming a writer of fiction, wandered into a magical place called Borders in Harrisburg Pennsylvania. For those of you too young to remember just what the hell is a Borders, I’ll tell you. And again, I’m not saying this is true in all places and also times, I’m just saying what I knew to be true back in 93’. Borders was a place that if you entered the store at a particular time, and you went up the long escalator to the second floor, and turned left and went straight to the back corner of the store. You would find one of the biggest restrooms you have ever seen in your life. And if you went into that restroom, you would first see a row of sinks, eight of them, then a wall of hand dryers, then if you continued walking around the pony wall, you would find a row of a thousand stalls, seriously there were a billion stalls in that restroom. And like I said, if you were to walk into that bathroom at a particular time, and walked around that pony wall, and enter the very last stall on the right, then you might be able to get a blowjob from a random stranger. Who I might add, would refuse to look at you much less talk to you after the deed was completed and you accidentally ran into him perusing the rows and also rows of books. No my friend, we didn’t have hook-up apps like Jack’d & Grindr where we could see the photos of the person before we hooked up. Or read a profile detailing what they were into and what they wanted to do. Nope, we had to do it the old fashion way. Sit patiently in a stall, sometimes hours before we finally got that wonderful signal, shove our penis into a hole in the wall, and pray beyond hope that it was at least a halfway decent looking guy. The times that ended up happening were few and very, very, very, very far between. So that is Borders kids, you don’t know what you were missing out on. Complete anonymous sex with older men, whether you liked that or not. That was the option back in those days. So there I was, a young man filled with testosterone and a full head of hair, perusing the rows of books waiting to see if anyone entered that magical place. As it happened, while I was waiting for something exciting to happen, I noticed a display of books. This display of books was in the perfect eye line of the entrance to the restroom. I’m sure you’ve seen those displays, normally a huge cardboard placard of the cover of the book, with maybe a few reviews of the book, and the title. And there it was, this large placard, saying coming this fall, The Fires of Heaven by Robert Jordan. And the cover is rather plain, just a man standing in the middle of what looks like a courtyard wearing a red coat, with orange hair. But in the background was a man standing there with a staff slung over one shoulder and a wide brim hat. This was the image I was intrigued by. Who was that man in the wide brim hat? Keeping one eye on the entrance to the restroom, I quickly realized that The Fires of Heaven was the fifth book in this epic fantasy series. I knew that because they had the first four books on the table unde the placard, and being somewhat intelligent, I surmised that these were the first four books of the series. And the rumor was back then, that this was going to be the final book of the series. Who would attempt to write a ten plus book series of fantasy. I usually never want to start a series until it is complete, as I hate waiting for the new book to come out. And kids, if you thought waiting a week for a new episode of your favorite TV show, then try waiting two years or more for the next installment. That is patience. And if you really want to talk about patience, it took me another ten years before I got the ending I so wanted from that long ago day of sloppy blowjobs and cover art. Chew on that patience I displayed. Though I went to Borders that day for a quick, sloppy blowjob from a random stranger in the restroom, I picked up the first book of the series and decided to read a few pages while I waited for someone to go into the bathroom. Now I'm going to be honest here, I’d like to say that all thoughts of strange men sucking me off left my future bald head upon reading that first prologue of Eye of the World. But that’s not true, I ended up with a somewhat younger man than normal on the receiving end of my…bellend. But that’s another story. I think I finished all eight hundred or so pages in a few days of the Eye of the World and immediately went back to that Borders, not for a blowjob but to buy the next book in the series. Over the next few weeks I devoured all four books and couldn’t wait for the fifth and final book to come out. Being a massive fan of the books that I am, and not that fan that thinks the books are perfect, I am fully aware that the first three books are somewhat a slogfest and let's not talk about eight, nine, and ten. But I loved the storyline and had the biggest crush on Mat, the one who turned out to be the figure in the wide brim hat. I was stoked that the Wheel of Time would finally be getting the live action treatment from Amazon Studios. And once I saw the trailer, I knew it was going to be different then the books for a multitude of reasons. The average book length, not dick length, is eight hundred pages. That’s crazy long. And there is no way in hell they could do one book per season. Who would expect a show to last 14 seasons anyway. We know that Robert Jordan loved describing the most mundane things in finite detail and that's not even discussing his fascination with ladies dresses and hairstyles. The books have a lot of filler that could be cut and never missed. By the way, how does one actually go about sniffing in disgust or anger? The female characters are always sniffing, pulling their hair (though I have noticed a lot lately that women constantly stroke their hair in public like a boy scratches around his crotch) and looking disapprovingly at every male they see. The story itself takes place over a period of three years. ( I had to look that up as I thought the story took place over a much longer period of years. That means Rand was only 19 when…) No spoilers. So 14 seasons would age the characters out. The amount of time spent traveling from one place to another is so time consuming that I know they would have to keep the story moving at a faster pace. So avoiding certain places and events only makes sense. There are thousands of characters in these books and many of them have speaking parts, so combining several characters into one or omitting them completely is understandable. My husband, “N”, who does not offer blowjobs in the restrooms…anymore, has no experience with the book series. Except that he constantly tells me to throw out my WOT books because they are cluttering up the bookcase and he can’t put up more photos of us sans restrooms. “N” is a huge fan of fantasy & Sci-Fi, so he was all in after watching the trailer. And after watching the first three episodes, he was hooked. But then became rather pissed off because Amazon decided to drop a new episode weekly instead of all at once. He made me…physically threatened my life if I were to watch them without him. I’m sure none of you know this, but I am a huge fan of Survivor. Yes, that reality show that has been on the air for twenty years. Don’t judge me, I had to get blowjobs in restrooms by random strangers when I was young, I don’t know any better. “N” also likes Survivor, but can’t stand waiting for the new weekly episode to drop, so I watch it first, and then once it's all released, then he will binge it in like three days. That is what he made me promise to do, wait until it's all released and then watch it with him all in one night. And I don’t like watching TV like that. I like to digest what I just watched and think about it for a week before dipping my bald head back into the experience. So on Christmas Eve we snuggled in bed, I hate watching TV in bed, and binged the remaining five episodes. “N” loved it. He liked the characters, the cinematography, the special effects, the magic system, and of course, the Trollocs. And I will agree, the first six episodes look fantastic. I love that they are filming in a location that is unknown to most American audiences. So it looked like a fantasy world. And yes there are CGI touches to things, but they built a lot of actual set pieces in the amazing landscape that is Czech Republic, in Prague. He loved the mystery that is, which one of them is the Dragon Reborn. I actually enjoyed watching it with him in bed as he went back and forth. It is Matt, oh wait, it has to be Perrin, no I think it is Egwene. I’m sure it's Perrin, Holy Shit! It's Rand, I knew. And he asked me questions about the books, which I refused to answer. He begged me to tell him what happened next, and all I can say, I don’t know, they changed so much I have no clue. Then he offered me blowjobs, not in a restroom much to my chagrin, and when I still didn’t acquiesce to his demands he cut me off from sex completely. So back to Borders…Wait, Borders are no more. Balls. “N” didn’t know what they had changed, made up, omitted, or combined into single characters. All he knew is he loved the drama, the mystery, the scariness of the Whitecloaks. Who I must admit, are even more terrifying than in the books. So “N” didn’t understand when Tam first drew the Heron sword, I took a sharp intake of breath. And grinned from ear to ear when Morgaine and Lan were kicking Trolloc ass in the Two Rivers. The encounter Perrin had with the wolves in the forest only fueled his theory that Perrin was the Dragon Reborn, I only smiled. When the camera focuses in on the dagger, I yelled something out, but he didn’t understand why. I got so excited when I first saw Thom in the Inn telling us the tale of the Dragon Reborn. And when he was killed by the Fade, I inwardly smiled as I am rather certain that isn’t the last time we see Thom. Or when I first saw a red haired Aiel in the cage, I giggled at the implication and wanted to know how they would portray the best fighters in the world. Nor did I say aloud, what the hell is that? When the Ogier first arrives talking to Rand in the Inn. Or why I starting yelling, thats what I’m fucking talk about, when the Maiden of the Spear was on that snowy mountain top and I saw she was pregnant. Though I did remain rather silent as I watched in awe as she proceeded to take out all those soldiers. But I did get to see his reaction when he realized that the soldier was Tam and that badass fighter was Rand’s mother. And much like him, in a way it was a new story for me as well. I knew and understood the changes they had to make. And actually liked that they changed the age of all the lead characters. Or making the show way darker than the novels. Bloodier than Jordan would ever dare dream. And lets not forget boobies, there are boobies and butts everywhere. And maybe even a hint of ball bag, Lan’s ball bag. Nudity is looked up as taboo in the Two Rivers, but throughout the rest of the books, there are boobies flooping around everywhere. And lest we forget, Rand and Egwene have been doing the nasty for a while. And Perrin knocked up some chick before slicing her open like a ripe Cantaloupe. Lan and Nynaeve knocking boots, that didn’t happen until book 10 or something. Moiraine being all lipstick to Siuan butch amazingness. Everyone is fucking, From the very beginning, which I do think was a bad cold open for Wheel of Times, I knew this wasn’t Robert Jordan’s Wheel of TIme anymore. And I was completely okay with that. If the concept is that everything has happened before, and these people are constantly being re-born into different ages, then this is just a different version of events that happened a long time ago in our future. The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills. So in the books, the Whitecloaks were dangerous and very militaristic, but damn, what a way to introduce them. That scene was deliciously twisted and just the way I imagined those zealots to behave. I think his fascination on Perrin and Egwene wasn’t really explained well, there were several leaps of logic in why he suspected them to be from the White Tower. But, plot, I understand. I still would like to ask the showrunner why he spent almost an entire episode of only an eight episode season on an Aes Sedi and her Warder. That actually made me angry and wish I was back in that cold restroom with strangers sucking on my weiner. Lan didn’t need to thump his chest, in the books he was more reserved and rarely showed emotion. I thought it was so out of character and still don’t understand why they felt this deserved an entire episode. It didn’t further the main story, nor did it really tell much about the White Tower and the Sisters. Let's talk about the magic system and its live action depiction. I absolutely loved how they showed the one power. And yes I’ve read the naysayers talk about how they don’t go into detail about wielding the One Power on the show and casual viewers don’t appreciate the toll it takes on the user. Fuck you, visually, it works. Not everyone bones up about magic systems and how they work. And the wisps of smoke, gray for the Sisters and inky black for the men, I thought really captured the yen and yang of it all. And did the Whitecloaks put a beat down on the Tinkers, probably my least favorite groups in the entire series. The Way of the Leaf reminds me of vegetarians and I like my meat! (that's a long way to go for a dick joke, but I’ll allow it). We got to see a truly badass false dragon kill everyone and Nynaeve dropping the One Power bomb that healed everyone. That was epic in all the right places. I am finding this Nynaeve more tolerable than in the books. In this weaving of the Wheel, I dislike Egwene more, which I find distasteful. In the books, Nynaeve is the worst depiction of a female character I have ever read, watched, dreamed about in all the weavings of the Wheel. EVER. The actress who plays Egwene is simply amazing. And with the exception of Mat, who I didn’t think captured the essence of what Mat was, the rest of them are really good in their roles across the board. But Moiraine steals the show, she is perfect in every way and her scene where she fucks her “pillowfriend”, is amazing. Great acting. I didn’t find a weak actor in the bunch, just a stellar job of casting. We get to see a scene from book 3, when the Two Rivers folk are riding together and start singing and then Moiraine tells the story of Mantheran, I got chills. It made me want to go join in the fight against fades, trollocs, the dark one, and Borders restroom trolls. The last two episodes were my least favorite. And not just because they had changed so much of the story that I was literally lost a few times on who these people were. But mostly because you could tell that Covid restrictions really hit them hard. Set pieces were smaller, probably to disguise they had less extras than before. Unfinished special effects, and one of their main characters refusing to come back to finish the show in the poorly cast Mat. How much rewriting do you think they had to do to cover the absence of Mat in the final two episodes? Did I mention the horrible special effects in the last battle with the Trollocs? And why did they only send eight people to defend the gap against hordes of Trollocs anyway? Covid. I can forgive the limitations of the last two episodes. I also forgive the rushed ending as Amazon refused to move the premiere date to give them more time, so yes, it wasn’t perfect. But I can’t forgive the way they ended the season. Three untrained Aes Sedi being led by a too weak to serve accepted, doesn’t matter she was tower trained, took out thousands of trollocs. And yes the idea was to say that Nynaeve and Egwene were that strong in the One Power, that even an accepted could destroy everything and everyone being linked in a circle. Rand was the one in the books that appeared in the sky above the gap and saved everyone, thus proclaiming himself the Dragon Reborn. But they had to have a scene where Egwene saves Nynaeve’s life. Doesn’t matter that throughout the entire book series, Egwene was known to be weak in healing. Nor does anywhere in the books show that much destruction can be had without the aid of enhancement items. It really left a sour taste in my mouth. And before you say, “They made it all girl power because of the times and the me too movement. All males are stupid and useless without a woman telling them what to do”. I only have to ask one question, did you read the fucking book? Robert Jordan clearly wrote that into the story thirty years ago. Every single female character is written from a view of power, except for Min. They always know what to do and think men are stupid. Robert Jordan had either a very high opinion of women or thought they were all horrible, as every female character is written the same way. So should you watch this show…like I said in that restroom stall all those years ago…yes, yes, yes!

I'll probably skip this one, I think I'm too old to appreciate what they are trying to do here, which is update it for a current audience. I was never a fan of the books growing up so its not that I think the source material shouldn't be remade. I think its more along the lines that I just can't deal with artificial drama and teen angst. Riverdale started off okay, but by the time I reached the first season finale, I had lost all interest. I couldn't get into Stranger Things for the same reason. I just can't suspend my belief enough to think that a bunch of kids would react like they do in these YA shows. And for the record, I never really like Harry Potter. Maybe if they would make the kids act/behave like I see other kids behave at that age in my everyday real life, then I could maybe watch them. The older I get, the less likely I am to watch something that is geared for young adults. And that's okay, I'm not the intended viewer. J

This is the fourth time I am hearing this song today...He has it on repeat...

I'm currently listening to Stairway To Heaven on repeat as I have been on hold for 43 minutes trying to get tech support. I am so close to just holding my breath until I pass out...I am slowly going insane. J

I always find the best way to escape the summer heat is to go outside in San Francisco, it is mostly a balmy 60 degrees, so normally I wear a light jacket to ward off the chill. Hope that helps J

It was summer, June 2000, when Greg and Mark first met on Lake Walton. Each summer after that, they would join their families for a summer vacation before parting ways for another year. It was summer, June 2000, Greg and Mark were five years old. June 2000 "What are you doing Greg?" "Nothing, just go back to sleep, sorry." "If you keep snuggling me, I'm not going to sleep over here anymore." June 2005 "Greg...what are you doing?" "Nothing." "It sure doesn't feel like nothing." "Just go back to sleep, Mark." "If you keep rubbing up against me, I'm not going to come back here next year." June 2010 "Damn it, Greg." "What now?" "If you keep dry humping me when I'm asleep, I'm not coming back here again." June 2012 "Jesus Christ, Greg." "Yes." "If you don't stop doing that with your mouth under the covers, I'm not coming back here again." June 2015 Oh jesus, Greg!" "You like that?" "If you ever stop attacking me in my sleep, I'll never come back here ever again."

I took Jason from my first straight boy crush that destroyed me back in the day, and Rimbaud from my favorite poet. J

So earlier this year, I started a show called Watchmen on HBO. I was actually a huge fan of the movie when it came out in 2009, and was really excited to see what HBO was going to do with that property. And I was really excited to find out that it wasn’t going to be a remake of the movie but more of a continuation of that story in the same universe. From the opening scenes I was hooked and after I watched the last episode, I wanted to find out who created it. And that’s when I was introduced to Damon Lindelof. And as I have nothing else going on I did a deep dive back into his credits to see what else he has done. Tomorrowland, never saw it, The Leftovers, never heard of it. World War Z, didn’t like it. Star Trek, Into Darkness, loved it. Prometheus, never watched it. Cowboys and Aliens, didn’t like it. And then I saw Lost in his credits. And then I saw that along with J.J. Abrams, Damon co-created and wrote more episodes than anyone else and served as the show-runner because J.J. was busy doing other things. Full disclosure, I’m not a huge J.J. Abrams fan. I think he single-handedly destroyed what little bit of love I had for Star Wars left after The Rise Of Skywalker. And though the re-make of Star Trek was okay, I thought Into Darkness was by far the stronger movie. And I think like most people, I was introduced to the highly over-rated Benedict Cumberbatch, in this movie. After finding out that Lindelof was the co-creator and prolific writer of Lost, I was intrigued to see how Lost would hold up to Watchmen. Judging by his age, and when Lost came out, I figured the writer that wrote Watchmen would be more mature, more confident, then the writer who wrote Lost. But Lost was a cultural pheromone back in the late 00’s, and I only missed it mainly because I didn’t have TV back then and streaming shows weren’t invented yet. And again full disclosure, I have seen a few episodes of Lost way back in 2004 and have heard the debate about the last two seasons, but I hadn’t really ever watched the show from start to finish much to the chagrin of one of my closest friends who figuratively eats and breaths this show even after it’s been almost ten years since the finale episode was shown. (Side-note, IMDB TV started streaming Lost for free May 1st, 2020 to mark the ten year anniversary of the finale) And since I’ve been out of work since March 18th, 2020, and rarely leave my condo in the hills of Twin Peaks in San Francisco, and the fact that I am pretty much bored with anything else on Netflix, Hulu, and/or Amazon Prime, I contacted my friend and asked if I could borrow the first season of Lost to finally see what the fuss is about. You would have thought I asked him to be god-parent to my non-existent kids he was so happy. He started rambling on how we can finally talk about Lost and how excited he was to go on this journey with me as someone who never watched the show. Like he could finally see it for the first time again through my eyes. And since my husband and I are really taking the shelter in place seriously, it was decided that my friend, “O” and I would watch the show together via face-time every day. Because I wasn’t going to allow him to come to my condo, I’m not sure he even knows what Covid 19 is much less that he’s suppose to stay inside his house. But that’s another topic. So on an infrequent trip to Target, I bought the first season of Lost and we picked a date to start watching the show together. I’m not sure if you ever watched a show before with a super fan, but it wasn’t more than 15 minutes into the episode before “O” started spouting off things that were foreshadowing later episodes down the line. I quickly realized watching it with him was not going to work so we came up with a new system. I would watch the show, make a few notes, and then afterwards we would discuss the episode and talk about where I thought it might be heading and so on. But only if he would refrain from answering any of my questions I might have or guesses of the future. And that lasted about ten minutes after I was finished with the two part pilot episodes. So now, I’m watching season one alone, but I continued to make notes of the show and what will be following, is my take of Lost Season One, episode by episode. I am trusting that anyone who is reading this, will refrain from making spoilers in the comments, or correcting any of my guesses on where I think the story is going. And when it was going to be “O” and I watching together, we came up with a few rules that I continue to follow. I won’t refer to any of the actors by their real names, only their character names. And anything I say about anyone on the show is directed to their characters and not the actor portraying said character. During the course of this first season, I went back to earlier episodes and either watched it again or added to my notes as certain things stood out to me in later shows that didn’t occur to me during my first watch along. Any added comments will be in bold so you know when they were written. For the first several episodes, many of the main characters were never mentioned by name so I made up names for them until they were formally introduced on the show. And though I probably shouldn’t have to say this, I will be spoiling each episode as I post these Blogs. Lost Season One: Pilot Part One: (Jack Centric) The show opens with a close up of someone’s very blue eye. Blue eyes is wearing a suit and tie and is in the jungle. A yellow dog runs past and Blue Eyes gets up and runs through the jungle until he comes out on a beach. The sound seems muffled until the camera pans to the left and we see completely chaos and the screaming and noise from one of the engines comes blasting into the scene. Littered down the beach is wreckage from a plane crash. Blue eyes frantically looks around until he hears someone yelling and sees a man trapped under a wheel strut. As he runs down the beach, the camera focuses in on several actors on screen who I assume will become the protagonists of the show. Black Man is screaming out for Walt several times, Blue Eyes calls for a few people to help him and together they lift the wheel strut and pull the man to safety. Blue Eyes sees a very pregnant lady and rushes to help her. Claire has the most annoying Australian accept I ever heard, and I’m assuming it’s not a real accent. Blue Eyes realizes that Claire is fine and instructs Big Dude to take her somewhere out of the way and if the contractions come faster than three minutes apart to come find me. That’s when we are first introduced to Jack. Jack sees Pretty Boy trying to give a black lady CPR and tells him he’s doing it wrong. Pretty Boy is clearly panicking so Jack sends him off to find a pen, more to get rid of him than for any reason. After he saves Black Lady, he sees the wing of the plane is starting to fall down, and wouldn’t you know it, its right over the very pregnant lady and Big Dude. He rushes over and saves them in the nick of time when the wing crashes down and explodes. (I’m assuming because of the gas?) Jack goes into the jungle and takes off his coat and shirt, he has a deep gash in his side. He has found a sewing kit, and from his coat pocket, he pulls out a small bottle of Vodka. Then a beautiful lady from the Hobbit movie comes out of the jungle and after a few words, sews up Jack’s side. Jack tells her a story when she asks why he isn’t afraid. He tells her a story of his first lead surgery where he cuts something near the spinal cord, and he knew that he had to do something. So he allowed the fear to flood him but only for five seconds. Then he would get back to work. Pretty interesting story and gives the viewer a lot of information about this doctor that is going around helping everyone so doggedly. I loved how he helped everyone else before he took a moment to fix what I can only assume is a very painful cut on his back. Later that evening, the whole camp is suddenly aroused when something is heard crashing in the jungle. It looks massive as whole trees are knocked over and it seems to move very fast, and it has the most eerie sound. We don’t get a chance to see it but it’s big and menacing. Flashback, Jack is sitting in his seat and flirting with the flight attendant, he makes a joke about the weak drink and we see why he had vodka bottles in his suit pocket, pretty cool call back. Across the aisle from Jack is the Black Lady he saved on the beach by giving CPR. She mentions she doesn’t like to fly and that her husband is in the bathroom. Jack says he’ll keep her company until the husband returns. Right before the turbulence started, the one where I’m assuming was the reason they crashed, Merry from Lord of the Rings runs past being chased by the same flight attendant that gave Jack the Vodka. The turbulence became so violent the little masks fell down and someone behind Jack who didn’t have his seat belt on was thrown up into the air. Pretty cool. Jack, Kate, Merry decide to head off into the jungle looking for the nose of the airplane. Jack thinks that if they can find it, that all planes carry a transceiver that will allow them to contact any rescuers that will be looking for them. They see the nose of the plane resting against a tree so they go inside and climb up the aisle way. Its pretty gruesome, at one point Merry almost falls down and he grips the leg of one of the dead bodies. Once at the cockpit, Jack breaks open the door and one of the pilots falls out and down to the ground. Jack asks if Kate was okay, and Merry replies, “Charlie’s okay too. One of the pilots is alive, but pretty banged up in the crash. But he informs Jack and Kate, that a few hours out of Sydney, the radio went dead so they turned back around to head back. They are at least a thousand miles off course and no one will know where to look for them. He shows them the transceiver and Jack asks, where is Charlie? Kate goes looking for him and he comes out of the bathroom. Moments later, the unknown/unseen monster is back and after a moment, rips the pilot out of the plane. Jack, Kate and Charlie run out into the jungle, the monster seemingly right behind them. Its pouring rain and they get separated, with Kate hiding in the middle of a few trees. She is frantically looking around and thinking back to Jack’s earlier story, she starts counting to herself, one, two, three, four, and she says boone, which is weird. The rain stops and she finds Jack and Charlie who look up, and the body of the pilot is high in the trees and fade to black. Lost Season One: Pilot Part Two (Charlie and Kate Centric) Opens on Jack, Kate, and Charlie walking in the jungle trying to operate the transceiver. And for no real reason, except for plot, Kate asked Charlie why he went to the bathroom in the plane. Conversations like these usually have some significance later on in movies and TV shows. Charlie says that he was so scared he had to throw up, does a throw-away comment about being a coward. Flashback, Charlie is running past Jack and Black Lady but this times follows Charlie as he searches in vain for an open bathroom. Once he finds one, he locks the door behind him and pulls out some yellow looking powder from his shoes. He takes a bit of the powder and eats it and quickly relaxes a bit. So Charlie is an addict. Turbulence starts and he drops the bag of drugs into the toilet. He struggles for a moment before leaving the bathroom to find a seat and straps himself in just as the plane lurches about violently. Blonde Chick is sun tanning herself on the beach while everyone else seems to be doing something. Pretty Boy asks her for some help and she implies that she’s going to wait until rescue. Pretty Boy is her brother and the two start arguing. Pretty Boy leaves and Claire, the pregnant chick, is talking to Blonde Chick and Claire confides that she hasn’t felt the baby move since the day before right after the crash. Black Man is once again yelling out for “Walt”. For those of you keeping track, mainly me, this is four times thus far Black Man screams out “Walt”. But Walt is out looking for his dog, which I’m assuming is the one Jack saw in the opening moments of the show. Walt is screaming out Vincent and finds a pair of handcuffs in the jungle. Black Man finds him right after and in a very angry tone says something like, I told you to stay on the beach. Walt replies back as only an adult writing for a child would, and we realize that Black Man is Walt’s dad. I kind of get the feeling that Black Man doesn’t really like his son much. I’m sure its suppose to come across as worried, but I feel like Black Man is not a good person. Middle Eastern and Blonde Southern Guy are rolling around the ground fighting. Southern Guy is accusing Middle Eastern man of being a terrorist and Middle Eastern is accusing Southern Blonde for being the prisoner that goes with the handcuffs. They are pulled apart by Big Dude and we find out Middle Eastern name is Sayid, a former Republican Guard during the Iraq War as a communications expert. Big Dude is named Hurly, and I really like both of these characters right off the bat. Something about Sayid tells me he is very confident and extremely intelligent. Plus he has cool hair. Sayid informs Hurly that the transceiver is working but they need to get to high ground to get a strong signal to be able to broadcast their position. He points to a high point in the distance. There is a man with a piece of metal sticking out of his stomach that will die if something isn’t done soon. Jack is trying to figure out what he should do and gives a rundown what will happen to the man if nothing is done. Lost now gives us a moment to focus on some of the other survivors, one couple is Asian, and from the looks of it, they are married, but the way Husband talks to Wife, they are extremely conservative and Wife looks about crestfallen while Husband tells her to button up her shirt. Though I found it funny that the moment Husband turned around Wife defiantly unbuttoned it again. Husband is preparing what looks like sushi, and tries to go about getting people to eat it. Hurly makes a joke that as hungry as he is, he won’t be eating it. Lost again goes out of the way to imply that Black Man and Walt do not really get along at all. But Black Man speaks in clichés and comes across as angry all the time. We find out that Blonde Chick is named Shannon. Pretty Boy and Shannon are again arguing about who knows what, but that prompts Shannon to approach Sayid, Kate, Charlie, about going out with them to higher ground. Pretty Boy goes along as well, presumably to protect his bitchy sister. Southern Blonde Man is reading a letter with a look of concern on his face and smoking a cigarette. This is the first time I’ve wanted a cigarette since I stopped two months ago when I went into Shelter At Home. He sees the group heading out so he decides to come with them. We find out that Southern Blonde Man is named Sawyer. An Older Bald Man, who we’ve seen in the background until now, and really the only time we see him fully is when it was raining and he was sitting in the rain with a look of glee, is sitting on the beach playing with a game of Backgammon. Walt approaches Bald Man and without turning his head, Bald Man says, Backgammon is the oldest game in the world. Two players, two sides, one is light, one is dark. Then he looks at Walt and says cryptically, “Do you want to know a secret?” This struck me as important, because normal people wouldn’t say one side is light, one side is dark, they would say black or white. Something is being set up with this character and his mysterious declarations, so I know to pay attention with this guy. Sayid and company are walking in the middle of the jungle and Sawyer keeps pressing Sayid to try the transceiver but he doesn’t want to, to protect the batteries when all of a sudden a crashing sound is heard and what I know to be for a fact a bear due to hours of playing Red Dead Redemption 2, comes crashing out of the jungle at the company. Everyone runs away except Sawyer who stands his ground with a look of determination on his face. Once the bear is close enough, Sawyer raises a gun, where the hell did he get a gun, and shoots the bear several times before it drops down almost at his feet. It’s a polar bear, in the middle of this jungle…now that was badass. Jack has settled on a course of action for the man with the metal sticking out of his body, and has enlisted Hurly to help him find any antibiotics that will help with his infection. Flashback, we see the man before he got a piece of metal inside his stomach, sitting on the plane flirting with the flight attendant, and we see Kate sitting next to him. After a brief conversation between the two about juice, we see Kate is the one that was handcuffed and she is this man’s prisoner. Now we know where the handcuffs came from and who they belong too. Kate takes the gun from Sawyer and in a comical scene, asks how to take the gun apart. She takes out the clip and the bullet in the chamber, and then gives it to Sayid. Sawyer makes a crack about giving it to the terrorist so everyone decides that Kate should have it. She takes the gun but Sayid has the bullets. Kind of funny, that they trust her for some reason, not knowing that she is the prisoner. Though the way she was acting with the gun, maybe murder wasn’t her crime. Sayid figures they are high enough, so he turns on the transceiver and gets a few bars but can’t broadcast because there is a stronger signal somewhere on the island that is broadcasting already. He tunes into the signal and a French Lady’s voice who is on a looping broadcast. Pretty Boy says Shannon can speak French so she translates the message, Everyone is dead, I’m all alone now on the island. Sayid figures out that the message is on a loop, and has been broadcasting for 16 years and 5 months. The camera pans back and then for a close up of Charlie’s face who asks, “Where are we?” Fade to Lost Logo. Wow, some pretty cool characters, a few mysterious ones, a criminal, a polar bear, and some kind of pre-historic monster stalking around the jungle. I’m hooked for now, can’t wait for the next episode.

So I can agree with you on all points but the last one, I have nor will I ever get bathroom humour. I've been with my husband for over five years and have never even farted in front of him, though he has farted numerous times...and I mean numerous times...daily...something isn't right with that boy honestly...but still...I forgot where I was going with this response but...Hi J

Thanks Comicfan, the moment I read that prompt, this is where my tiny brain took the events. I'm currently working on a Prompt tale, 13 different prompts blended into a long tale. But thats a while away. Thank you for the prompts, they have inspired me muchly the last few weeks. Jason

The light the moon showed him that the tide had finally started to rise; the water had just started to enter the mouth of the cave where he had awakened hours earlier. He tugged absently at the shackle on his left wrist. After a few hours, he had given up the hope of removing the stake that was driven into the center of the small-cave floor. He peered off into the night sky and tried to judge how much time he had until the water swallowed him, leaving him to drown alone. In the intervening h

There Will Be Spoilers Ahead Of The Amazing Movie Maltese Falcon. For those of you that have never seen this movie, The Maltese Falcon is a movie starring Humphrey Bogart as Sam Spade, Mary Astor as Brigid O'Shaughnessy, Peter Lorre as Joel Cairo, Sydney Greenstreet as Kasper Gutman. It is based on a Dashiell Hammett novel of the same name, and written & directed by the talented John Huston in his first directorial role. A private detective takes on a case that involves him with three eccentric criminals, a gorgeous liar, and their quest for a priceless statuette. The movie starts out with introducing the main character, Sam Spade and his partner Miles Archer played by Jerome Cowan. A woman comes into the office, Miss Wonderly, who is trying to find her missing sister who was last seen in the presence of a man named Floyd Thursby. Through a disjointed story that Spade and Archer don't seem to believe, they agree to shadow Miss Wonderly when she goes to confront her sister and the man Thursby. Some hours later, Thursby is dead, Archer is dead, and the police think Sam Spade killed them both. Thus the plot of this movie really begins. We also find out that Sam Spade has been having an affair with Archer's wife. Sam doesn't really like Archer but after all, they are partners. It really wouldn't look good for Sam's reputation if he didn't solve the murder of his partner despite what he might feel about him. After the murder of Archer, Sam finds out that Miss Wonderly is actually searching for a solid gold statue called the Maltese Falcon that was painted black to protect it from treasure seekers. Sam also finds out that she has not been so forthcoming as she also has partners in this quest to find the bird. One is Gutman, the tall fat man that is eerily polite yet also quite menacing in his own right. Villain Number One, Gutman, a brilliant scene where Sam confronts the fatman, (a term that is used throughout the movie). This was Sydney's first scene in front of a camera, though he had been a stage actor for over 40 years. Here you can see how formidable he can be across from a veteran star like Humphrey Bogart. Villain Number Two, Cairo, a man that uses gardenia drenched business cards and is overtly homosexual for a movie made in the 40's. The brilliant Peter Lorre plays Cairo to a tee, single minded, delicate, yet truly sinister in the way he interacts with Sam Spade. Villain Number Three, Wilmer, a gun for hire that looks up to Gutman as a father figure. Wilmer is also the murderer of Thornsby and the ships captain that was in cahoots with Miss Wonderly in smuggling in the falcon. There are many twists and turns in this classic film noir story. And Sam must navigate the lies and deceit of the main players without losing his life. It all culminates in an almost twenty minute finale as Sam negotiates with Gutman and company to sell the falcon while trying to puzzle out who is who in this sordid tale. Its is mesmerizing to watch the scene when the falcon actaully shows up and Gutman and company realize its a fake. The Maltese falcon is still out of reach, and they must continue their search. The three murders that has transpired seemingly secondary to their quest. After putting all the pieces together, Sam confronts the murderer of his partner Archer. One of the most iconic movie endings. What is the falcon? The stuff dreams are made of. The Maltese Falcon is one of my favorite movies, its dialogue heavy that manages to keep you on the edge of your seat. The entire movie is almost shot over Humphrey Bogart to give your the illusion that you are finding out the plot points as the character Sam Spade is. Unlike the prior two movies based on this book, this one forgos the happy ending for a realistic turn that leaves you almost sad that Sam had to turn over the lady he loved for his morals. I greatly urge you to watch this film, its on par with some of the best movies ever made. Jason

I just finished prompt 786, still debating if I should post it or not. j

Robert Pattinson could be an interesting choice if they have the right story. The Twilight series wasn't bad because of his acting, it wasn't a great script and I think suffered with bad direction and zero chemistry with his co-star. That being said, I think with the right story, he could be really good at depicting Bruce Wayne in Year Five or so of being Batman. In every movie in my lifetime, we've always gotten an Origin story and even a TV series about the beginning of Batman with Gotham. If they can take a page out of Batman Vs Superman, and put the Origin story in the opening credits or forgo it all together, then we could potentially have a fresh start in the Batman saga. I think by this time, most everyone that will watch this movie knows the origin of Batman. Robert Pattinson will nail Bruce Wayne I think rather easily, where he might have some trouble, is his portrayal of the Batman. Does he have the physicality that is needed to be running around on rooftops kicking bad guys asses in a manner that is believable? I must admit I am not familiar with his resume, nor have I seen all the Twilight movies, but I can see him playing a young Bruce. A Bruce that is unsure of his abilities and maybe a bit sloppy in the action portions which might account for his lack of experience in action roles. Or it could be like Matt Damon in the Borne Series. Matt was amazing as Jason Borne and until those movies, he was not known for his action roles. But what do I know, I thought Ben Affleck was rather good as Batman.

Since I first started writing this Blog Post almost a year ago, I went back and checked the date, I have learned more about your husband and your relationship. I just didn't want to call him out as it wasn't important who said it as much as why it made me start on this journey of changing my perspective. I do wish I made it clearer that BDSM goes across all genders and orientations, but as I was writing this about "gay community" I really didn't think about it. And I agree, and it what I was stating in my peace, find what makes you happy and embrace it. Truer words were never said... One of the things I do like about Gay Authors is the diverse voices that are found here. And much like my own community I've built for myself, its filled with gay, straight, trans, and all other colors of life. I remember growing up in rural Pennsylvania and having to go out in groups for safety as we traversed to the only three gay bars in the area. Many nights we were harassed and more than a few times the night ended in some kind of altercation between drunk rednecks and drunk gay boys. Thank you all for your comments and I hope all of you find your true communities in your own life. J

Before I really get into the reason I started writing down these random letters to form words that structure the following incoherent sentences that you are about to read, I want everyone to understand why I decided to write this in my Blog instead of responding in the forum thread where I first started ruminating on this topic. I am writing it here mainly because I think I’m going to offend a few people that read this and more than likely piss off the rest. A few months ago, I came across a topic in the Lounge that got the wheels in my tiny little brain a whirling. So much did my head spin around and around, that even all this time later, I’m still thinking about the topic. I really don’t remember who started the Topic all those months ago, and it’s really not important as it doesn’t really have anything to do with who started the topic but what path that topic got me traveling on. To the best of my ability, the topic was “Do You Identify as Gay?”. It also included a poll of three choices…I identify as part of the gay community, I identify as someone who has sex with the same gender, I identify as something else (please explain). Or something along those lines anyway. When I first read this topic, the results were as following… 72.41% or twenty-one posters identify as part of the gay community 13.79% or four posters identifying as someone who has sex with the same gender 13.79% or four posters identifying as something else And for full disclosure, I identify as something else. This something else with the tagline, ( please explain), is the reason I am writing this today and the reason I have done more research about this topic in the last few months than I have in the last twenty years. I have never spoken to the person who started the topic, nor am I judging that person or anyone that participated in this particular thread. I believe there is something deeper here in regards to my own journey then the author or other posters intended. And let me preface this by saying, I am not attacking, judging, or refuting anyone that shared their own experiences in this topic. Nor am I discounting their beliefs or personal truths. I am only referencing them as it led me to a better understanding of my own self. Upon first reading this topic, I believe I understand what the motivation the author had when they created the poll and the questions they proposed. And without putting words in anyone’s mouth, I believe the intention was to see how the other members of GA viewed themselves in a larger, cultural way. And on the surface, I think it was a harmless question without malice. The post started off something like, “I’m curious to know how many people on here identify as part of the gay community versus how many just identify as having same sex attractions without feeling a part of the larger, cultural gay community”. I first read this question more of, ‘hey, tell me how you feel about your place or lack thereof in the gay community at large’. I don’t believe there is anything wrong with the question that was put forth. I felt, and still do after all this time; it was more a curiosity to see into the lives of other individuals and to understand how they might see themselves in a grander scheme of life as it pertains to the “gay community”. And after reading all the response, a particular comment stuck out from one user. And again, I might be paraphrasing, but the poster said something like, “I have come back to this post several times because it rather irks me. I am gay. However, I am not a member of gay clubs, sports, or other so-called gay organizations. The feeling I get reading this, is that unless I “join up”, me and the others like me, are really not gay”. This comment intrigued me, so much so that I started doing some research into the poster. And no, I wasn’t stalking that user, but I did find out while I was stalking him that he identifies as a Dom in a BDSM relationship. The user clearly stated that he did not feel part of the gay community because he refused to ‘sign up’. And a few posts later he added, “My lifestyle is even smaller. Mainly found in small clubs, and yes online. But even thought we have BDSM clubs, I am not a member. Though my husband and I live that way. Does that make me less a Dom? No, Not at all”. Please understand that I know absolutely nothing about this user except what I have read in that particular topic and I am not refuting what he feels. I know nothing about BDSM except surface facts nor do I care to learn about this…lifestyle for lack of a better term. I do know that it’s not for me even though I understand that the participants feel a need to experience their life in this way and that there is a strong bond of love and trust in regards to their relationships. I feel everyone is entitled to love however they find it. And this post is not about BDSM but rather about the feeling this poster voiced about community. Webster’s define community as: a group of people living in the same place or having a particular characteristic in common. It goes on with a second definition: a feeling of fellowship with others, as a result of sharing common attitudes, interests, and goals. A few of the synonyms listed: group, body, clique, faction. When the user identified as gay but didn’t really have a connection to what most would call the gay community, preferring to just live their lives as they see fit and damn anyone that doesn’t agree with them. This statement got my little head spinning around. While this is an admirable trait, and one that I wholeheartedly agree with, it made me curious why he didn’t feel a connection to the greater gay community. I don’t know this user and didn’t feel comfortable enough to ask certain questions regarding BDSM and why this user didn’t feel a part of the community, so instead I went online and started doing research about the subject to see if I could get a better understanding of why he might have answered like he did and more importantly, why the question seemed to irritate him. And in my limited research about the subject, I found that most in a BDSM relationship identify first as a Dom or a Sub, then secondly as gay if they mention it at all. My understanding, BDSM is more important to how they live their truth than a label about sexuality. This seemed to be a logical reason why this user didn’t connect with the gay community. And yet it got me thinking why I don’t connect with the gay community though I live in San Francisco, seemingly the Mecca of gaydom for the United States and maybe for the rest of the world. I don’t have a lot of gay friends. And being gay does not now nor has ever really defined who I am as a human being. In my youth, I went to the clubs on the prowl for sex. I used more boys as dumpsters and playthings than ever made any real connections with the shallow people I met in those spaces. But that was a small part of biology, I was horny and wanted to find a release into the next willing receptacle but that wasn’t who I was or what I thought I should be. My community has always been those like minded individuals that share my same love of movies, video games, books, and historical places. At times, other gay people have fit that mold, but often as much, my friends are made up of all races, orientation, and gender. I have found in my travels, the “gay community at large” are shallow, promiscuous, addicts, that are too self absorbed to be good friends much less good human beings. And yes, before you get all angry, there are always exceptions. But go to any club on a Saturday night, and you’ll see rampant alcohol and drug abuse in the gay community, unsafe sex practices, and old men trying desperately to hang on to their youth by any means necessary. And if it seems like I’m judging them, maybe I am. But I don’t want to be associated with those types of humans. And it’s true, go to any straight club and you will see the same exact behavior which I think only proves that I don’t identify with them either. To get back to the user who identifies as BDSM, he would also say, ‘my lifestyle is even smaller’. He’s proud to say that he doesn’t belong to any BDSM clubs. He simply chooses to live out his best life with seemingly little regard for what others might think. This is a behavior I can support. Webster’s define lifestyle as: the way in which a person or group lives. The user is living his best life with someone who loves and respects him and for all purposes; he is living the lifestyle of a gay man. The user also used the phrase, ‘join up’. And this made me think about the grander implications of that statement. I feel that too many of our brothers and sisters are made to feel left out based on some of the marginal stigma surrounding certain lifestyles, especially if it’s on the fringe of the larger gay community. If the user, who identifies as a Dom, cannot feel like he’s a part of the gay community because he refuses to ‘join up’, then what does that say about this gay community? Is it because as humans, we tend to judge those that are different than us? If that’s the case, then we are no better than the homophobe that judges us because they do not understand us? To counter that point, the user that started the post topic and put forth the poll answers to begin with, stated, ‘For example, I personally identify as gay and very much feel a part of the larger gay community. Most of my friends are gay, I go to a mostly-gay gym, I play in a gay sports league, I go to gay bars/clubs/circuit parties, and whenever I travel I make it a point to check out the local gay scene. What I love about being gay in the cultural sense is that no matter where you go, you already have an established tribe/community that you can find support in through shared identity. I've found in my post-college years is that we are a community that tends to protect our own, and we've created our own institutions separate from the straight world to fulfill that purpose. It's ghettoization to an extent, but after living in the stuffy confines of straight life for so long, I've found that this much smaller community offers freedom to a level and in a particular way that people who aren't a part of it will never get to experience’. I think I could argue what the poster was referring to is not so much the ‘gay community’ but more of the gay lifestyle. Or what that perception of that lifestyle is from someone on the outside looking in. I do believe there is a certain perception of what most would call the gay community, and for a good portion of us, we would never identify ourselves in that manner. Urban Dictionary defines gay lifestyle as: a stereotype used by social/political conservatives to describe gay men being promiscuous, drinking, bar hopping, using drugs, cross-dressing, and orgies. Okay, I’ll be honest, the bit about cross-dressing made me laugh so hard I almost choked to death when I read it. But can you honestly say, you have never thought the same exact thing at least privately in your own brain. To most, the gay lifestyle doesn’t describe us much less define us. I have often lamented that who I choose to sleep with is such a small part of what makes me…me…that I rarely talk about it. I don’t go to Pride, I don’t participate in circuit parties, I don’t have orgies, nor do I have random encounters using phone Apps. That is not my lifestyle, nor has it really been. So why am I writing this? It’s not to bash the author of this topic, nor the user that doesn’t identify as a member of the gay community. The reason I wrote this and the reason I have been thinking about this topic for months, is because I was looking at this through the wrong lens. There was a time when gay individuals needed to bond together, first for safety, and then for support from a world that didn’t really accept us. And yes, having that support system truly saved who knows how many lives over the last decades. How many young people who didn’t commit suicide because they found a place that was safe for them to live their truth and find happiness within those communities? How many of the younger generation can go to proms with their same sex partner now all over the country? How many states have legalized same sex marriage? So much has changed for the gay community just in the last ten years that I never thought I would see in my lifetime. And thankfully, it has changed. Yet I truly believe one of the worst things we can do as a community is retreat into our gay clubs, gay bars, gay sports leagues, and leave the rest of the world behind. We didn’t affect change by hiding in the shadows. We changed the country because we got out in the light and demanded that we needed to be treated first as humans, with the same rights as all other humans, then by allowing straight people who didn’t know any better that we have the same goals, values, and desires that all humans possess. Who we sleep with is irrelevant in the grand scheme of life. My community, as defined by Webster, has always been made up of a fellowship of likeminded individuals that share my same attitude, goals, and life values. That is my community, and like most communities across the country, it’s not a gay community, it’s not a straight community, it’s a mix of beautiful humans that all strive to achieve a better life for those they love, and for those as yet unborn. I have seen a lot of ‘gay communities’ that do not share my same values and goals. And I will not be a part of them just because they also happen to sleep with other men. That would be like saying, I will only vote for this particular person because they also have the genetic coding that made their eyes blue like mine. Eye color and genital preference is so far down on my list of priorities in those I choose to surround myself with its practically nonexistent. If you find a gay community that shares your same attitudes, goals, and values, than great, you might have found the ideal life. But don’t get so hung up on only participating in ‘gay communities’ just because there are gay people there. Instead, create your own communities by including all people that share your values, embrace those that can bring something positive in your life and exclude all those, even the gay ones that would drag you down. Gay or straight, all communities are made up of humans first, and most of us are a wonderful, kind, generous, honest, loving, and accepting group that can do extraordinary things when we share a common purpose. I know that my thoughts might not be for everyone who reads them. And that’s okay. We are all on different places in our walk of life. I do know that over the last few months my perception of community changed and I believe I am a better person for it. So I thank whoever started this topic, and those that contributed to the thread as they all helped me come to a better understanding of who I am as a human and where I want to go. J

I have never understood why just because you don't like a "thing", some people feel like they need to voice that opinion, loudly at times. There is an author on this site that is well loved and respected that I think has zero talent. This is the closest I've ever come to mentioning it since 2004 when I first found him on Nifty. It wouldn't serve anyone but my own ego if I were to let my true thoughts on this particular writer get out online. It's so self-serving and egotistical to assume that I'm right and they are wrong. I do know that Stephen King has felt these types of backlash once upon a time when he wanted to write things other than "horror". That is why he published under Richard Bachman (spelling?), no one would accept his other writings. I'm not suggesting you change pen names, but it is a very real reality when an author becomes known as a writer of certain genres and then tries to switch the script so to speak, that readers get put off. As in this case, they found you and liked your feel good story, and now you are writing in a genre they probably never read and they feel betrayed. And if your blog is any indication, they probably feel like they have inside access to you as you are always prompt to respond to anyone commenting on your Blog, which I can only assume you are the same way with story feedback. You should see some of the comments I use to get when I was writing and posting things regularly. And for the same reason I'll never be known as a writer, I only write for myself and the rest of the world could get bent for all I care. Keep your chin up and do what makes sense to you as a creator, those that don't appreciate this story can move out of the way for those that find this genre their cup of tea. If you have talent, people will find you. The loudest critics online are usually miserable people that believe what they think matters, the only thing that truly matters is you.

Sorry Wayne. I wasn’t thinking it in political terms when I wrote it. But it sure reads that way. My bad! I’m with you. I find I enjoy silence more and more the older I get J

I’ve seen the results of what funding the drug addicts mean for San Francisco. There are safe zones for junkies to shoot heroin, and needle exchanges. Crime in San Francisco is on the rise and the word is spreading. Tourism is down, major conventions that were held annually are being cancelled due to the small army of homeless that dwell downtown. Not only are the residents of San Francisco paying for these safe zones, we are losing money because people aren’t coming here for vacation like they once did. Almost every restaurant is down 15 to 20 percent from 2017. It’s a good pipe dream thinking if we only had programs for rehab then we can correct this problem. They don’t want help, a good portion of them have mental problems thanks to Nevada shipping off hundreds of their mental patients with a one way ticket here back 2013. As a resident for the last fifteen years or so, I’ve seen the problem grow past the usual homeless problem. What we have here are mental patients roaming the streets and the police are powerless to do anything to stop the chaos that lives in and around mission street. Homeless people we can help, but turning s blind eye to mental patients screaming and attacking tourists does nothing but cost us more money in taxes and losing money because no one wants to vacation here. I don’t have the answer but neither does the mayor and the city government. All they care about is salesforce and the money they receive from them. There comes a time when all the good wishes in the world won’t fix the problem. Hard decisions need to be made and the liberal ideas don’t have the answer. San Francisco has almost made me switch parties. And governor newsom will only do to the whole state of California what he did to San Francisco. I do take some comfort that I don’t think he could ever become president at least. I’d almost rather trump as president than newsom, Gavin is actually smart enough to really mess up the country.

I think there are definitely two versions of Patreon. One version like you are talking about in the comments. Paying in appreciation of open source and collaborating on new software. This is something I can get behind and support. I don't but I could. This is in the same vein when a Podcaster generates content by discussing Game of Thrones. They aren't getting any sponsors from HBO, they are fans creating new art about the show. This is definitely something I can get behind and support. Which I do have several Podcasts which I support through Patreon. But the moment any Podcaster puts their content behind a paywall and charges for it, and then add sponsors I stop supporting them. I don't like people who double dip and takes advantage of the listeners that support them. If you are paying for content, then you should get it commercial free. Then you have the version that is rather disturbing. The patreon that supports a YouTube content provider. You know the ones where they are getting money to showcase new make-up or some other such item, then they force their followers to pay via patreon to access those videos where they are already receiving money from the company providing the items. I understand that its a way of making money, and in one sense I can appreciate the capitalists nature. But again, don't take advantage of your supporters when you are already being compensated for your content. I think the Joe Rogan Experience is one of the best examples of a Podcaster doing it right. His Podcast, whether you like him or not, he doesn't charge the listeners. He generates content, he gets his sponsors, and its a free via all Podcast platforms and YouTube. My two uninformed opinion. J