See "about" page. I'm a fat admirer who has slowly become obsessed with obesity on an intellectual level in addition to already being obsessed with obesity on a sexual level. I am also fixated and enthralled with the new "moral panic of obesity" and the way that the general public is so suddenly concerned with a phenomenon of humanity that has been with us for over 35,000 years. I am even more amazed with the paleolithic connection to obesity with the venus figurines and the way that archaeologists seem to minimize the relevance and potential importance of the existence of those little statues of fat women.
Home page: http://obesiverse.com
Posts by thomas obesiverse
Yeah, i did get that hip replaced, and I’m lucky to get medical weed, but then again, i may not be too lucky to get medical weed if I had to get it because I had a failing hip.
Yeah, surgery was not fun. There was a hole next to that large incision because a draining tube was in there, to make sure I did not have a build up of gross fluid building up inside of the wound after I had parts of my bones cut off and replaced with plastic and metal. I haven’t had a full size x-ray film to take a photo of since surgery, but I have seen that fake joint in there, on a tiny x-ray in my chart with the orthopedic surgeon, and i will eventually get a larger one. I will not be getting a MRI on that hip ever again though. I wonder if I will be able to get a MRI for any part of my body now.
The wound did heal up nicely, but there is still a depression where that drain tube was, and the scar feels weird, parts of it nearly numb because some nerves were inevitably cut in the operation. Such a deep wound did not seem to take very long to heal, and I was so very careful about not dislocating the new hip that I probably still don’t use it as hard or normally as I could.
I still catch myself limping when I don’t have to, fearing that eventually if I walk enough the old pain will return. There is still pain, but it is different, and not quite as severe. My mental issues are more of a block to me than this hip is at times, but then again, my body still tries to act like the hip is a problem, since I could not use it for so long that my left leg actually got physically smaller than the right one.
At least I was able to have medical weed before and after surgery though. I did not have it right after surgery, although that would have been nice. I should have considered getting my hands on a vaping solution before i got surgery, so I could have gotten high right in the hospital on the down low after surgery.
I did get to smoke in the 2nd week after surgery, when I had a friend sneak some weed and a pipe into the rehab place I was at. It was kind of a nursing home, my room mate seemed to have had a massive brain injury at some point, and he would talk about having a vagina and a baby on a regular basis.
I wanted to visit him after I got out, and I had to go back to do some paperwork, but I didn’t. I wanted to get out of there as soon as my business there was finished, even after I said repeatedly that I would use that opportunity to see that guy. I think I was still guilty about leaving him there, even though he is literally not my problem.
I felt like i helped him to talk more when I was there interacting with him, and I felt badly for abandoning him now that he seemed to be more focused and “present”. I still have to let that go, it’s not my job, I have my own issues to deal with now that my hip is not my constant excuse to be physically careful, or at least for much longer I think.
I have to wonder if doing a little medical weed would have helped him, but then again, this facility was strictly non smoking, even in an outside courtyard where I was able to sneak it anyway. Maybe someone knew, and could smell it, or maybe even saw me do it out of a window, but nobody confronted me, and I wanted out of there so badly after I voluntarily put myself there to prevent injuring myself by trying to do too much.
Now that I’m able to get a bag legally, I can barely afford it! There is the issue where trying to buy a whole ounce at a time does not make it cheaper anymore, when they try to sell you two half ounces for the half ounce price and won’t give you any discount on volume. I know, that is the “old days” I guess. One casualty of the now legal means in which I can buy and own weed without freaking out and being paranoid about it. On the other hand, I can’t brag too openly about it though, because I don’t want anyone to think I have enough to make it worth harassing me about it. I don’t sell it, I just take my little card to the local dispensary, one opened up right next to the apartment at some point!
This was some surprise to me, when I saw the signs, after the place had already opened up. I went in and got a gram just because, I could not believe that it had finally happened. I mean, i was walking in to my very first legal, physically “real” weed dispensary, and it had actually opened up remarkably close to where I was living.
Yeah, I was pretty surprised when I could go over there and walk out with a jar full of weed, a whole ounce, and not the crappy stuff that I was getting when I lived in Louisiana. This was high grade medical stuff, and even the “cheapest” of that stuff is still amazing and much better than anything I was used to for my entire life before having access to this.
I was so shocked to go into a “store” and walk out with a “jar of weed” and it was all legal, and further, my right to treat my pain the way I had become used to was finally validated, after a lifetime of living in the shadows, paranoid of getting busted, worried about getting a record, and worried about how harsh the state of Louisiana would be because they seem to want to lock EVERYBODY up.
Right now, down in the state shaped like a boot, synthetic weed carries the same penalties for real weed, from what I read recently, but who knows if that’s true? I know Billy the exterminator, the guy with that show I don’t watch, got busted in some not so cheap hotel in the Courtyard Marriott in Benton, Louisiana with fake weed and he went to real jail… I won’t go to jail, and I have jars of freaking weed, well, one at a time, there is a 2.5 ounce limit and I never come that close. I’m not rich y’all!
I know there was a whole jar there at one point, but I took my time getting around to taking the photo! There are 2 more jars that I did take the time out to share though! Next time, the jar gets a photo nearly full of weed, along with a receipt just in case it tries to fade like other receipts from other places have in the past.
The fire alien super skunk was amazing, but it’s hard to tell the difference between this, the herojuana, and the “outer space” that I got later on. It is just all so good and gets me so very high!
These big jars of medical weed are pretty, smell nice, and create an amazing high. The herojuana was an indica hybrid, whatever that means, no, really, I need to study this stuff. I know that there are indicas and sativas, and there is this big difference between the two, if you can actually tell once you are high I guess. 🙂
With cute names like lil sebastian and outer space, it’s no wonder it has taken so very long for the industry to reach specific standards and be taken seriously. Then again, weed has always been “underground” because it has been illegal for so very long, in fact, it still is on a federal level as of this writing, even if the feds seem to lay off people in states who legally obtain weed with a medical card, like I have.
This card expired in early 2016, but I have a new one that was renewed, and I will get it renewed again, but the 3rd time I get this card it will be a hell of a lot cheaper!!! When I got the card, there was only a handful of doctors who would sign a recommendation, but that all changed when the dispensaries opened up everywhere! It seems that I was right, once more dispensaries were in existence, or at least ONE, there would be much more push to get more doctors to sign those recommendations, because the new dispensaries NEED CUSTOMERS!
This weed was called “outer space” and as far as I’m concerned, it sent me to outer space just as thoroughly as the “fire alien super skunk” or the “lil sebastian” or the “herojuana” or any of the many strains that I was getting before I knew what I was getting at all because it came in a plastic bag after a transaction in a parking lot!
When I go to list some of the strains of weed that I have been so lucky to get to try in the “tags”, I think it is so awesome that I have finally gotten to match a name with the high, instead of just getting some generic random baggy with a bunch of buds in it that I knew were the right weight, but I knew nothing other than what it weighed, because I could measure that. I rarely if ever thought to ask about the name of a strain, but I knew that the person could just make it up.
Outer space popcorn buds seems to look kind of purple when photographed with no flash. It’s still bright green with a flash, and maybe hints of purple here and there between the green. It’s so pretty, but it’s all going to burn no matter how nice it looks. There is an exception to that though, if you are going to eat the weed, but not really eating weed, but an extract put into candy.
I like this one, “bears on clouds”. The only problem is that I wasn’t on clouds after eating it. I didn’t really feel anything at all, but I am so used to smoking weed, and, if I had smoked any before eating this, I would have just felt whatever I smoked. I believe that I held out and did not smoke before eating one of these, but then again, I probably would have smoked recently enough before eating this so that I still had residual THC higher than what’s in this thing. The label had more info though. Still don’t help me.
Yeah, 25mg, I’m just as lost as if I was trying to figure out exactly what I would feel like after a shot of 40 “proof” vodka in a glass half full of “tampico” juice. You know that’s not really juice. It goes so damn good with vodka though, right? Anyway, I have a pretty good idea how I might feel after 4, 5 and then 6 ice beers that are 5.9% alcohol, but I have not drank vodka in so very long, I can only assume that one shot would feel like one beer once consumed in a mixed drink. I can’t assume anything though, because after the first shot, each drink would be a double, and then I would start diluting with water but still hitting the vodka, and worst of all, with kool aid, probably pink lemon aid or just plain lemon aid.
You have to keep that pipe clean, or you are just slapping yourself right in the nuts. A good way to waste good weed is to try to smoke it through a pipe that has some tiny hole air is sometimes going through. Burning it so that the stuff liquefies and then sucking through a gurgling, bubbling mess is not going to help either. I’ve got a system now involving 2 jars, one with rubbing alcohol in it, and the pipe can just soak overnight and a q-tip is more than enough to clean it out. You need some alcohol soaked wet wipes though to clean your hands after dealing with this stuff, it’s horrible. Just imagine my lungs! Geez! LOL
Yes, I did get it renewed. I have already had the address changed once, so they sent me a 2nd card, which is cool because usually they ruin the previous one when you get a renewal. They are so uptight, they don’t even take the ID they issue as proof of ID when you go to the DMV to get an ID… Yeah, if it sounds confusing, just wait until you have to go in there with 2 things that have been mailed to you, and they have to be important, not junk mail. Then you don’t get a card right there, it’s mailed to you.
That was a real pain when the mail boxes at the apartment got broken into, and I had to take a bus to a post office several miles away to pick up mostly junk with a few important things, like Candy’s fucking ID. But, it is done, mission accomplished, don’t have to do that again. I do have to go back to that post office again though because those boxes are still fucked. I guess it’s even more secure to get mail at the post office than these fucking boxes with the fucking delinquents running around that apartment complex.
I have had the opportunity to smoke some pretty exotic weed in the last few months, or over the course of the last year and a half. For the first six months that I had a weed card I was still going through a dealer that I was grateful to know. The prices got much cheaper through the dispensaries though and I was able to pick exactly what I wanted, or I should say, let Candy pick what she wanted, because I still split it with her and she picks the strain. I just have to hope she keeps it cheap, which she has been, she’s getting just as cheap as I am lately. 🙂
Long buds, short buds, green buds, purple buds, it’s all so good. I can barely tell them apart, especially if I start drinking that 5.9% alcohol ice beer I was talking about before. Sometimes a local convenience store gets a deal on some nearly expired craft beer and it can go as high as 8% alcohol. That totally kicks my ass, I can’t really do a whole six pack of those but sometimes I have mistakenly tried. I was taking tramadol back then too! I have quit doing all the pills, or I should say “any” pills, because I only did 2 for pain to begin with. Any xanax was donated to me and taken as I received it, so I am not “in possession” of it. That shit is good, but I can’t do it very often at all!
This beer was amazing, and I can only barely remember it. I did take a photo of the label though, and it was 8% alcohol. For a beer, that is powerful. That’s why the ice beers are so popular, and why they always put “5.9% alcohol” right on the packaging. They are bragging because they know cheapskates like me are looking for that high alcohol content!
You can almost see the alcohol content. I must truly love drinking. I know that the alcohol lobby probably has something to do with the fact that weed is still largely illegal in most states, and currently as I write this, on a federal level. I also know that it’s not just big alcohol, it’s big pharma, big police unions, big correctional unions, and the power of old people to grasp onto and never let go of status quo. I hope for a future when people are not being locked up for a freaking plant, but this is the good old U S of A we’re talking about. Home of the free and the brave, and the highest incarcerated population of any country in the world. Yes, the entire world. That world includes Russia and China in my reality, so maybe we should stop making them out to be the big villain all the time at this point.
So much sushi, so little time. I love sushi, but I can’t really afford it. It’s a good thing that I have seemingly proved my usefulness with a few very special people, so that this seems to happen every once in a while, and I’m told that I actually deserve it. I know I’m very lucky, as long as the thread holding my reality together at the seams holds. If just one segment anywhere important breaks, there is a shitload of trouble coming my way, and all I can do is attempt to brace myself, or in the case of being drunk, not brace myself for whatever comes.
Maybe it’s this “endless shrimp mentality” that is causing people to remain so comfortable with the status quo. There is no reason to keep putting up with the kind of massive injustice that exists in this society, except, it’s just easier to go along, which is actually my philosophy, except for what my fingers decide to type now and then. If my writing is a rebellion against good writing, it’s also a rebellion against the blind acceptance of the status quo. I have a fully viewable but still accepting it perception of the status quo. I may actually register to vote for the first time ever just to vote yes on question 2, which is to basically legalize weed in the state of Nevada, where i live now that I ran away from Louisiana so long ago. I beat another flood in Baton Rouge this time!
I like to watch my food cower in fear before I eat it! I guess I can’t keep complaining because I have it pretty good, I’m really lucky, and I have just enough friends to get by without getting fucked over, so far. I want to thank everyone in my life that helped me to refuse to get hip surgery for months and then finally talk me into it in the “last minute rush” to get that appointment when I finally got cut on. I almost TURNED DOWN THAT APPOINTMENT. Now I’m glad I didn’t. I was a little different for a few years that I was in so much pain. I don’t think medical weed was really enough to help. I was a real asshole on many occasions, and sometimes I wonder if I was being pushed additionally by the creeping, slowly growing pain in my hip before I got surgery. Now I watch people I care about suffer because I know that nobody is going to give them this surgery.
I love producing and delivering random content and trying to call it art. I think it is, but I wonder sometimes, if it was such a good thing that bbw and even ssbbw content became such a regular thing all the sudden. Like, it’s a very weird trade off with what’s going on. It’s like fat all the sudden became “ok” with a big woman as long as she is “DTF” in the process of already being big. I should not and will not get into all of that. I deleted every post that I created over years because of posts that included comments about women that I myself later felt may be offensive. I have to change the subject, but I also had to put this photo here and point out the irony. I am buzzed by now, and I wasn’t when I started this post. Maybe I saved it to “drafts” because I thought that it needed input from drunk me.
I knew what I was in for when I moved to the “big city” of fabulous Las Vegas. So far, I kind of like it, but then again, I only go out in the daytime and I have not been seriously assaulted yet, so who knows what will happen to my opinion of this place? I know that I have to accept the over all outcome, which is, I met someone that I believe I was supposed to meet, even if it has NOT BEEN EASY AT ALL TO GET USED TO THE DIFFERENCE.
Life in the big city, with mountains all the way around me, as if I am waiting for water to just fill this place up and wash it away. it’s beautiful in ways, it’s ugly in ways, it is what it is, and I live here because I chose it, rather than just being dragged somewhere as a baby by someone else and then deciding that I should grow up and die in the very same place myself.
I’m going to publish this, instead of letting it sit in drafts, and I may come back and do a part 2, but for now, this should just go up as it is… Thanks… I still don’t want to delete this domain name as I let all kinds of others just kind of vanish, or turn into Japanese spam sites, like bbwglamour.com. LOL
Eat those beets! Oh, I know that there is no way to understand scale and know how large my incision was…
No, I’m not talking about that cheesy movie from a long time ago. I think that last post was a bit harsh. I was trying to maintain a sense of humor, but as always, i got really critical of the very audience that has supported my work for nearly a decade. I wasn’t really insulting the entire audience though, just the ones who have never actually supported the work because they always watched stuff that came out for free.
I don’t want to get started all over again about that, but I just wanted to say that without taking the time to go re-read what I wrote, I will get a little more specific about who I meant to be critical of. It’s one thing to be complimented on work that someone saw completely free, but it’s another thing when other people are literally posting entire clips on a file sharing site, and then suddenly there are over a dozen clips floating around “for free”. Then someone responds to some twitter update by saying how great the content is, but they have never actually paid for it.
There is a consequence of doing that, and eventually, it is called “going out of business.” I should not have complained so harshly in that previous post, but later on that day I started to come down with symptoms of some kind of cold. The next day I had a fever over 100 degrees and I was sick for nearly 2 weeks with a pretty severe sinus infection.
In the middle of all that, I was informed that my van was going to get towed away soon at great expense if I did not get rid of it on my own, or finally fix it and renew registration. They would charge $300 for the tow that I did not want even if I told them to keep the van. I called the tow company, and they made an offer to buy the van for $50, but I had already made arrangements to sell it for $60 to another guy.
That might sound like I was ripped off something horrible, because the fuel pump I replaced just months before cost more than that. It cost me $300 to have the transmission mounts replaced, so that one bracket could come loose and nearly break my steering column. Now the van is not going to be a money pit any longer, and I believe that positive changes have happened because I got rid of it. Because there is less money coming in, the van will stop leeching money that I can’t even use as a business expense because the van wasn’t used in the business. The van became a real problem on a regular basis, and was no longer very reliable, so it simply had to go.
The van was simply too messed up after the transmission bracket came loose to fix easily. Even if the bracket could have been put back, the steering column was hit and leaking, and that was going to go sooner or later and in a very unsafe and probably horrifying way. So, I had to say goodbye to the van I have had for nearly a decade right in the middle of the worst illness I’ve experienced in that same period of time. I never get sick, but I had worn myself down with stress and anxiety about too many things, and I had to finally let the van go.
So, I just wanted to post a note here as I logged in to check on updates and other stuff. I know that i was being really insulting to an entire group of people out there who will never, ever pay for content. I can’t blame them in a way, but still, I am a “small business” not a big Hollywood studio. I know that other small businesses have gotten larger with expansion, but at this point, I have other issues going on that prevent me from giving 100% of myself to any business.
Just last week I tripped myself on the cane I use to walk because I need a hip replacement. In the fall I hurt the “good leg”, so it was even harder to walk for a few days. It just happened to be right before a weekend spent with a friend where I would want to help them out by doing some house work. Then, she discourages me from drinking, on the night I really could have used it, so I just passed out. I needed a drink more than ever being in the kind of pain I was in, and trying not to take pain pills for it. Luckily it didn’t hurt when I wasn’t moving or walking, so I was able to pass out, regardless of what kind of plans she may have had for “later”.
When I do finally quit drinking, that will be my decision. Being told “no” by someone is a harsh reminder of the way I am guiding my life in the next few months. It’s never too late to stop what is planned, but I have a feeling I’m going to have to go through the whole experience to know that I “maybe should not have done that.” I know I’m talking in code, but maybe in the near future I’ll be spilling all kinds of stuff here because I won’t have much else to do.
Well it had to happen sooner or later! All that time with a regular pattern of updating a clips4sale store with a new clip in expectation of being able to pay certain bills with that money is now over.
It’s a good thing that the website (exoticbbw.com) actually made MORE money than the clip store this month, because if it hadn’t, I would be in some deep shit financially. As it stands, I have given in to the temptation to donate freaking plasma in order to be able to make up for the LOSS that clips4sale has generated at this point.
Regularly, there would be an attempt to upload at least one new feeder clip per week, and there were times when Candy might skip a week because she just wasn’t up to getting made up and filmed doing something that she loves doing so much. Even if Candy really enjoys binging, being filmed while she does it seems to take away some degree of enjoyment for her.
This is ironic, because over the past couple of years, Candy would make the sacrifice in binging in front of a camera knowing that she would not enjoy it quite as much, for the sake of being able to financially support the types and amounts of food she wanted to enjoy.
Now, with clips4sale generating a revenue of about $50 per clip (6 clips this month), it is obvious that Candy will have to go CHEAP on the food, which means no more big feasts, at least until something changes with this crappy revenue from each clip.
Something has changed over there at clips4sale, and I am not quite sure what it is, but something has seriously been altered, shifted, edited, cancelled, or something. Some form of advertising or promotion that they used to employ must have completely collapsed, because over the past few months, income dropped dramatically, and it has stayed at the same low level even though there was an attempt at adding 6 clips in one month instead of just 4.
I have come to the realization that sites like facebook and twitter are pretty much useless to promote anything now. Candy and I used to have a term “ya-losers” which represented the losers on yahoo who would compliment and beg for free stuff YEARS AGO. They thought that a little flattery could get them some free content, because for whatever reason, they decided that since yahoo was free, everything that is promoted on yahoo should be free too. That graphic above shows how there are winners and losers in this business, and if you aren’t “sinfully divine” you are basically FUCKED right now on clips4sale as a SSBBW, or “super fatty” or as Candy calls them “blob chicks”.
Now, that has moved over to twitter losers and facebook losers, asking for “chat” and wanting to have their email read to Candy, in the hopes that being told for the thousandth time she is “so sexy” will have her offering to sit for hours in chat with some loser who isn’t spending one penny for her time.
In twitter, there is a monster machine of compliment and flattery, which would be awesome if that kind of thing paid one cent towards any bills that were covered by the clips4sale income. At this point, all the compliments are more annoying than flattering, because as we watch revenue go down, we realize that a majority of people who try to contact Candy at all are usually the wankers that want free shit, not the people who paid for a clip, got off to it, and went on with their fucking life.
Porn used to be something that was sold in a seedy type of bookstore downtown, and the customers did not interrogate the store clerk about “When was this made?” and “How much does she weigh right now?” These new questions and concerns came from some assumption that porn will be “interactive” and every time some jerk off pays $15 for a clip, they should get a half hour or more of free chat in the process. Some want to play “20 dumb ass questions”, and some even ask about free “video chat”! What a bunch of losers.
Now, I have started using the hashtag #freeloadingfeeders because as much as they seem to compliment Candy’s work, even calling her “legendary”, they are doing it in forums where more than a dozen clips are shared freely at a time. I just had to get a bunch of shit removed from a file sharing service that is in Taiwan, and fortunately they actually took the shit down when I filled out a DMCA complaint form. It took a few days, but that shit is gone now, and I will be keeping an eye on the fucking blog that keeps posting this free shit.
I’m sure that many other blogs post the same links, so the actual blog is not important, what’s important is that I am WATCHING now, and I will keep filling out that DMCA form anywhere and everywhere I see my shit distributed for free.
It figures that I was ok with a “little piracy” when it was promotional and it helped me make more money with my work. Now, I realize that all the free shit out there is basically over-riding the need to pay for anything, because there are at least 3 to 5 “Candy replacements” out there now, doing all the same shit over and over. Some have whole groups of fatties who get together and work out some kind of deal to split up all that “money” they WON’T BE MAKING.
Maybe they just do it for fun now, or just for the food. Candy has located at least one SSBBW out there who loves to binge on cam so much she does it right on youtube absolutely free. This is exactly what we needed to help boost our sales!
People seem to believe that porn will just keep rolling out no matter how much money it generates, but that is simply not the case. I understand totally now why so many models QUIT EVENTUALLY as I talked about in another blog post in the past. Sure, there will always be free shit, but YOU GET WHAT YOU PAY FOR and that shit is pathetic, but hey, whatever.
There is no more incentive to keep creating this stuff if there is no money being made from it, period. Watch as this economy keeps dropping into the shitter, and see how many of these lovely fat women quit doing this shit because it is NOT WORTH THEIR TIME FOR FREE.
People will keep producing stuff, and I guess eventually, there will just be a few conglomerates or REALLY POPULAR FATTIES that keep going because they are the ones who are still making some money. In the meantime, I get hit with alleged compliments that are REALLY INSULTS because people are TOO FUCKING DUMB TO REALIZE THAT WE DON’T APPRECIATE PEOPLE STEALING OUR SHIT OR WATCHING IT FOR FREE.
Either way, there is a quit date on the horizon at this point. I appreciate the money that was made in the time that it was made, but I don’t fucking work for free. Candy doesn’t either. Now that she sees the money going down, she feels somewhat insulted and it is doubly difficult for her to stomach making any kind of sacrifice in vein. She would rather binge off cam because “Fuck that shit it’s not going to make money anyway.”
So, the freeloading feeders can keep asking “How big is Candy?” and shit like that, and they will keep getting either ignored, or told to shut the fuck up and buy a fucking clip to find out. Odds are, if they are asking, it’s because they DON’T WANT TO BUY ANYTHING anyway. That is leading me to assume that the d-bags that ask me shit are the least likely to spend cash, so they should fucking be ignored. The ones buying the shit are wanking to it and going on with their life, because they actually have one. The ones chatting me or Candy up are the losers that are “too good to pay for porn” or something.
I think I’ve gotten most of my irritation with all this out of my system now, but it should be noted in a very public way that I am working on something really cool to do that makes me money in the future, and I’ll be very happy not to depend on the fickle nature of porn and it’s “fans”. I can see why some people who have quit porn are so irritated by it, and by the shadow of former fame that continues to follow them even though the MONEY DOESN’T.
I used to walk around looking at women, thinking to myself “Wow, that one would get a great reaction online!” and now I realize that I would never want to condemn someone else to the pitiful fate of being led on with some regular cash at first, then the disappointment and let down of making less and less because of so many women and their grandmothers, literally, jumping into the porn and/or tease game. I even got to meet one woman who has an impressive body that I KNOW people would love to see at all angles doing all kinds of “adult” things… Well, that SHIT ISN’T HAPPENING so this body is ALL TO MYSELF, FREELOADING FUCKS!
I even had this woman ask me flat out if there was any way I could sneak her into my work without giving up her identity, and I was like “Fuck that shit, these d-bags will have your shit all over the place trying to figure out who you are, so fuck them, it’s not worth the whole $10,000 you MIGHT make per year showing off, then watching that dwindle down to EVEN LESS OVER TIME. This shit has me wishing that I had used all the free time I had to figure out another way to make better money doing something that didn’t cater to such a group of low life freeloaders like porn surfers.
Yeah, I said it, and believe me, the most popular SSBBW making the most money is THINKING THE SAME THING. They are just smart enough not to say anything online (or maybe not when it comes to the freeloaders). Either way, I don’t go to strip clubs, even if there are fat women, because it’s depressing and horrible to watch women beg these cheap mouth breathing freaks for cash (me included, I’m a cheap bastard too).
I know, “Tell us what you really think” right? Well, that’s what I really think. The people who have written to me asking this or that, pestering me for details that they could easily pay to see, are even more extremely irritating to me now that there is literally NO MONEY IN THIS SHIT ANYMORE. All these new BBWs and SSBBWs want to jump into this shit because now it’s “ok to be a fat model”.
Yeah, I never thought I would wish for the days when more fat women hid themselves! There was a GOOD REASON fat women were so HARD TO TALK INTO MODELING back in 1998 when I did my first fat porn website… Now that there are just a dozen more than “internet capacity” the money has run out like a SSBBW PORN BUBBLE BURST.
Take it from me, when I see “she’s legendary” in the comments on a forum where my shit is being FLAT OUT STOLEN AND SHARED I get pretty offended, and Candy does too. That’s why it is only a matter of time before this shit is not going to be produced anymore. Fortunately though, I will STILL HAVE MY SHIT DELETED AS A FUCKING HOBBY just to irritate the fucking freeloaders. I’m going to make my shit as rare as a Prince music video on fucking youtube, just for fun, out of spite to these freeloading fuckers.
I may seem kind of angry, but I’m watching a business I built back in 2003 go down the toilet. Even worse, it was my SECOND ATTEMPT because that big bitch Alexis from fatfantasy.net basically stole my first SSBBW project away from my young dumb ass in 1998. That makes it even worse, because had I been given the advantage of never having to FUCKING START OVER I may have been able to milk this shit for even more before EVERY FAT WOMAN AND THEIR GRANDMOTHER STARTED FUCKING MODELING. Even worse, they can “barely model” at all and still suck out of that limited pool of fat jerk off money on the internet.
Now there are so many bbws that appear somewhere on the internet, some bbws call themselves models when they have no website, and they have not formally appeared in any capacity. Those are really “escorts” though, and that’s a whole other story because I am in Las Vegas, where you literally CAN’T THROW A STICK WITHOUT HITTING AN ESCORT. So, the escorts call themselves “models” now trying to get around laws against prostitution. Yeah, they AREN’T MODELS. They will say they can “model for $300” but don’t be fooled, the cops will get them eventually. It looks like the show “Cops” on television makes busting prostitutes seem more like a hobby than a “job”.
I’ve probably gotten all of this angst out of my system by now. I’ll be having an interesting new year’s eve, and not quite what I would have imagined just 2 years ago. So much has changed, and I have done a terrible job of documenting it better here. I’ve had such an interest in writing, but I never really went anywhere with it. Even this post is more like a bitch out session to the entire internet than a “regular blog post”, but that seems to be my “style” when I get busy typing. It’s like therapy for me to get all this out, and while some people would not consider me very “professional” for doing it this way, I have never done anything business related exactly how other people would do things. I do things MY WAY and I did not fail to make money for over a decade with that philosophy.
Now I am just a dinosaur in this realm though. I don’t pull out a funnel to force feed, I don’t even get squashed regularly, and Candy doesn’t want to squash me because she doesn’t want to fuck me up for a clip that won’t make money anyway.
Candy was never one to do “whatever I told her”, she is independant, and she can be hard to work with as well. It is no surprise that very few efforts to have her model with other people have been followed through on. Candy has her own anxieties and her own hesitation when it comes to doing certain things and trying to model with other people. Even if there were a line of people wanting to model with Candy, it would be difficult for her to make it happen unless the person was very likable AND persistent. It would help if they didn’t have “some dude” start talking to Candy about modeling rather than the model herself, and it really isn’t going to happen if someone comes across as wanting or NEEDING shit. A friend in need is a friend indeed… There is a good fucking reason for that saying, and I’ve had to learn it the hard way, thanks again Goddamn Patty…
Unfortunately, people with both of those qualities very rarely exist, it’s usually one or the other, and there is usually a giant AGENDA that rules over it all. You just have to hope that the agenda they say they have matches the one they REALLY HAVE. I won’t even get into the bullshit with “Goddess Patty” that never should have happened… Fucking con artist… I’ve been told that the well known plus sized (some say SSBBW but she won’t) model Tess Holiday has ripped some people off before too, but it’s all forgiven, because she’s so popular and “likable” now. Yeah, don’t believe everything you see on television, or movies, because those people can be con artists JUST LIKE ANYONE ELSE, and if they used to work in media and quit, DON’T BELIEVE THEM WHEN THEY TALK ABOUT A COME BACK. That move is used to rip your ass off so quick you don’t see it until they left town.
I never realized how much fun I was having while taking photos of food, until I started to review all of the photos that I have created over just the past few years.
you know, the tragic irony is that i had all my teeth removed, because it was the only way to end the immense pain that i experienced on a regular basis. now, maybe because i don’t possess the teeth to enjoy it all, based on my own decision, i am more obsessed with photographing food than ever.
The word “dynasty” has the word “nasty” in it, which is ironic, because I’m listening to ‘the prodigy’ “nasty“.
This is my tribute to the almighty powerful consumer food product consumer for something known as yellow number five. Even though apples are red, someone, somewhere would probably add some yellow no. 5 just to “zazz it up” a little.
This was some really sexy meat, at an all you can eat casino buffet in Las Vegas. I know that you can find a big buffet just about anywhere, but this city is packed full with so many cool places to eat. There is such a diversity in the people who visit, and that diversity shows in the many types of foods that you can obtain.
Candy has had an opportunity to try out so many foods while living here that may not have been available where we lived before, Baton Rouge Louisiana. There was quite a selection there too, but mostly the large franchised places that exist just about everywhere. I am not quite sure if Candy could have found such variety so easily back there. Russian, Italian, Filipino, Cantonese, Japanese, Korean, and of course Indian food. All those excellent kinds of foods are easy to find here in Vegas, and Candy didn’t hesitate to try out just about everything she could find. I think that the only type of food I have seen all over the place here that she hasn’t tried yet is the middle eastern stuff. Indian food comes close, but it’s not quite like Mediterranean.
In the casino buffet where a few of these pics are from, they had an assortment of different national foods right there. In the photo above, there is a taco station in the “Mexican” section, and then right next to that there was a section called “homestyle” or something, and I am guessing it was “southern food”.
There was even a section called “American” but I think that was mostly “southern” or “soul food” because of the greens and smoked sausage. I know there was a section called “international” too, but I could not figure out exactly what that was supposed to be because everything was covered and served by someone behind the counter.
Living in Vegas means that there is a Filipino place in walking distance, right in the parking lot with a strip mall that also includes about 6 other restaurants and a supermarket. In that one strip mall and enclosed parking lot there is a Jack In the Box, a Taco Bell (new), a China Star (Chinese buffet), and then there is the Filipino place, a Thai BBQ, and one small Chinese place in the strip mall itself.
Oh man, I’m forgetting about a small Mexican restaurant in between all of that! We’ve never even tried the small Chinese or Mexican places that lie in the strip mall itself, but Candy has tried every restaurant in the parking lot except for the Taco Bell, only because it hasn’t even opened yet. It will, and that will make the closest Taco Bell in walking distance too, which is ironic because I would be better off walking there to work off the added calories of eating there!
Filipino food really trips me out because there are whole fish in some dishes. Yeah, head and all. I’m sure that is similar to some Vietnamese dishes, which I think we have yet to try out so far. Candy’s favorite dish from the Filipino place is Dinuguan, which i have tried and it just tastes like beef liver to me. I do like liver though, but there is a very complex assortment of other flavors in the spices they use with it.
Now that I read up on it, I realize that they don’t have to use much liver if the base of the gravy is pork blood. I guess that’s where the liver or mineral taste comes from. It is Candy’s fav from the Filipino place around the corner, and every time I end up going there for her, dinuguan is going to be one of the two items in her “combo plate”.
Since I mention one of Candy’s favorites, I am tempted to bring up one of my own, Sushi. It’s ironic that the selection of delicious looking sushi above was for Candy, not me. I would end up being happy to take a few photos and then grab my trusted tuna or egg salad. I’m sure Candy may have slipped me at least one section of one roll, but I would not have taken much if any because this was more of a “prop” than my own personal snack.
I was about to try to figure out the names of everything, then I remembered that I took a photo with the covers on. While the sushi isn’t as beautiful and delicious looking under the plastic lids, the title of these delicious rolls is written out on them, which is good for a reference later, like now.
The photo above showed just a part of quite a feast. Those are Italian sandwiches on the left of the sushi, and both the trays of sushi are sitting on a large pizza in a box. The salt and lemon slices is for the margarita that Candy was making to go along with all of this. What an excellent feast.
Candy has had quite an opportunity to try so many different things, and at the same time, I am always ready with the camera to capture the look of this or that, even if it is the tenth time I am photographing the same food.
I have to admit that I don’t take photos of each and every food that gets delivered or cooked, but there are times when I am in a mood or the food looks so exquisite that I can’t resist grabbing a few pics. Now, I am made aware of the term “food porn” and the fact that what I am creating seems kind of close to it.
I realize that I don’t create the same kinds of images that are created by the “food stylists’ who prep food for commercial images, but then again, I create realistic images of real food the way I get it or sometimes the way Candy makes it.
I recently made a decision that cost me all my teeth without suitable replacement until I endure some paperwork hassle and probably a lawsuit. I am not regretting my decision to have all the teeth removed, because I would have probably had one or more dental abscesses by now if they were still around. I do regret allowing a dentist to take an impression of my mouth while I still had teeth, which I knew was totally backwards. I complained to her as she was struggling with doing it, and I got no response. I made the mistake of blindly trusting a “medical professional”, which is something you should NEVER, EVER DO.
Maybe I have such a gripe about weight loss surgery because the few things I have asked medical professionals to do they have kind of fucked it up. I mean, not having teeth from september of 2014 until now (may 2015) isn’t even such a big deal to me. I don’t really care about the cosmetic aspect, but the functional eating thing does get on my nerves a little here and there.
For all I know, creating food porn has been a way that I am able to appreciate and enjoy food since I can’t eat it in the typical manner without any teeth. I can use a heavy duty fork to crush things up and then swish the mashed up food in my mouth to enjoy the full taste, but that isn’t the same as real eating. I feel like I’m feeding a pet reptile, and that reptile is me.
I guess food porn does have a usefulness, because I am able to express myself creatively in the way I perceive food, and at the same time enjoy the food itself on a level that is not possible even with teeth. I guess I really love the food pics, because taking them can be a creative process in itself, and then seeing them later provides a pleasant memory of foods I have seen no matter if I ate that specific piece of food or not.
I have eaten plenty of sushi back when I had teeth, so now, every piece of sushi that I photograph becomes a part of a collective that I seem to trick myself into thinking I ate. Therefore, the food porn has allowed me to “virtually eat” some foods that I don’t crave as badly now that I can’t eat them in the way I traditionally would have with teeth.
Not having teeth has been really educational, and now I am just left with the sense of being ripped off. I worked hard to make sure I would end up qualifying for medicaid legitimately. The very first big process I wanted to make sure was done was getting all those rotten and half teeth out of my mouth. I didn’t care so much about having new, perfect, fake teeth, but it would have been nice to be able to use the pair that I did get.
Now I can’t get a replacement for five years unless I pay for them, while I see the dentures I can’t use sitting on top of the fridge every time I go into it. i guess I left them there to punish myself, and remind myself every day I don’t do something about this that I should. I adapt so well to new situations though, that not having teeth was something I really don’t notice sometimes. There are times recently I caught myself about to click my front teeth together like I used to, and they are not even there.
I would have to go back to see if my food porn content creation has intensified after having the teeth removed. It may not have, and even if it did, I’m not sure if that proves anything, but I feel that the food porn has been a helpful part in my adaptation to this new situation.
People use different kinds of “art therapy” and now I begin to feel that food porn is one of mine. I know I still have issues. The alcoholism is not really under full control, but I have adapted to a “hard limit” that I have been able to reinforce internally. That is pretty good, but just one of the initial steps to my control over alcoholism without total abstinence.
Alleged “food addicts” can’t abstain from food, so what does that tell you about every abstinence therapy involved in addiction today? I don’t think anybody has a clue about how to “fix” addiction, and in a consumer based, capitalist society, I don’t think it’s in anyone’s best interest to do so.
I have brought up super consumers over at the blog obesicorp, and I have this running gimmick going on over there about a consulting firm that helps companies make more profit by adjusting their business model to cater to the super consumer. i wonder sometimes about how my metaphor might be closer to the truth than I realized while creating it.
There was a time when I would rant and rave about an “obesity conspiracy” that would involve fattening people up, then selling them crap that doesn’t work to allegedly shrink them back down. If the crap that they sold to shrink people back down didn’t work on some individuals, offer one of a variety of surgical options, none of them actually proven to work every time either, sometimes actually killing the person.
That’s when I came up with “shrink’em or kill’em” theory. Of course, that’s just a tiny part of the entire obesity conspiracy theory, but it’s one of the darkest and most “morbid” parts, because it involves death, and the irony of killing one’s self in order to save one’s life. Or, I could put it as “risking your life to save it.”
Every doctor that Candy has seen has suggested surgery, and another irony is that she got sick after seeing so many doctors for things that they could not find. Candy went a few years without seeing a single doctor, and she never got really sick, just has breathing issues. She starts going to doctors and different places for tests, and she ends up getting a little cold that kicked her ass because her regular breathing issues got worse. So, seeing a doctor actually made Candy sick.
She’s getting better, but being sick helped her to lose more weight than she has in years. So, it makes sense to me that there are so many surgeries for weight loss because making someone “sick” actually helps them to lose weight.
Ok, now as I come back to add a few more recent photos, I realize how far off track I got when I started this post as “food porn”. It has taken me days to come back to finish this out of “drafts” and I think I am going to finally let it out!
Closing in on tax time, having already “done the deed” and paid what I owe, I’m reminded of how the year really does kind of start in April for me instead of January. I have had a slight anxiety about tax time since a few years back when I made the totally ignorant decision not to file for 2 years. I was getting income without any W-2 or 1099-Misc, so I thought, “what they don’t know helps me.”
It wasn’t very long before that delusion was fixed by the realization that sooner or later, some other shit would get tied into taxes, and if you didn’t file, you couldn’t take advantage of certain opportunities. Just a few short years later, after I had already repaired the financial damage of catching up, Obamacare was announced.
It was rough to catch up, because I had to print out everything from 3 years, because I was filing the 2 skipped years as I filed the 3rd year “on time”. When I saw the difference in how much the year on time cost me versus each year skipped plus penalties, I realized how foolish it was to skip those years to begin with. I considered just filing the current year and not saying anything about the 2 skipped years, but then the whole thing happened with “Wesley Snipes” getting busted for owing millions.
There was a freaky, weird combination of paranoia and intuition causing me to decide to file 2 skipped years as I finally acted like an adult and filed the current year. There was also the fact that “clips 4 sale” uses a system of sending out a 1099-misc whenever someone makes more than $600 in a single year. Success has it’s consequences.
I was lucky to make more than $600 in a year, but shocked to see that 1099-Misc come in the mail in early Feb. At that point, it all hit me, that I was fooling myself, and that you can’t fool a data mining, privacy invading entity like the U. S. Department of Treasury and get away with it. When I filed those 3 years, I did it in person, bringing paper returns in to an IRS office in myself.
I made a comment to the big beautiful agent who I ended up with that “I’m not going down like Wesley Snipes.” She laughed out loud. I also made a comment that there is no point in hiding income because the government knows how much you make already anyway. All my income is “digital” and I’m sure that I am not the only one being made aware of each deposit from each company.
I was so nervous about all that stuff, as most people probably would be. Yet, I chose to put myself right into one of their offices, in person, and hand over tax returns from previous years in an act of surrender. I kept reading that the IRS goes easier on you if you go to them rather than them coming to you. That translates into something else that happened years after I caught up and continued to file on time.
When Candy was gone the second time for 8 months, I got to know a neighbor who started talking to me while I was outside smoking cigarettes that I no longer smoke. His name was Kevin, and he worked as a carpenter, which also means contractor. He was good at what he does. I’ve seen some shitty carpentry, and his work was way superior. He knew what he was doing, and he could get jobs with apartment complexes that were being remodeled easily.
He had made some friends with apartment management people who could provide him with regular work. Even though he didn’t have a typical 9-5 job, he was a hustler who could go out there and find some kind of job just as he needed the cash.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t filed taxes in over a decade. He had been working “under the table” here and there, but a few of those apartment complexes did issue him 1099’s because they were up to date on their taxes, and nobody is going to pass up the chance to write off payments to contractors as a tax deduction. That’s where my buddy Kev got fucked.
He was so confident in his ability to get away without filing taxes, that he had an account at a credit union in his own name, with over $10,000 in it. One day he knocks on my door freaking out because he want to his credit union to get some cash, and they told him that his account had been closed by the IRS.
Another irony. I felt dumb at one point for giving up all the financial info that I did to end up with a tax liability that was pretty close to the $10,000 mark myself. Luckily, I didn’t freak out, and I simply started a “payment plan” with them. After just a few years of paying a bare minimum, there was only a little over $1000 left. At that point, Candy was gone and I was having financial issues, so I called them on the phone, and I was able to request a “penalty abatement” right then and there.
Because of my positive payment history, and the fact that I had continued to file on time every year after, they actually took off $1000 of penalties, so I went from owing over a thousand to owing under just one payment with one phone call to them.
The lawyers on television that advise you not to talk to the IRS are real douche bags. Those greedy, selfish cock suckers would have you pay them thousands of dollars to file an “offer in compromise” which the IRS turns down a vast majority of. That means, you could pay a lawyer to file that one thing for you, and then the IRS turns it down, so now you still have to pay them the full amount plus pay that scum bag lawyer!
I could have tried an offer in compromise myself, but I don’t think it would have been accepted, because the first year that I started paying on those back taxes, I made more cash than I had in any year before or since. I went up to nearly 29K in one year, which for me, is a lot. I know that so many people would feel some kind of pity on me for living my whole life around the 20k per year range, but money doesn’t make me “happy”, life experience and growth does.
The request for penalty abatement is easier to get than an offer in compromise, and not to mention it only took one phone call instead of pages of documentation. I didn’t really owe quite enough for an offer in compromise anyway. That’s for the big hitters who get paid twice what I do every year and go twice as long as I did without filing!
When Kev lost his bank account, I started to suggest a few ways that he could hide his income in the future. He had already considered some of those things, but he was in a panic about what to do “right now” and what to do about rent when it was coming up. I immediately felt compelled to start avoiding him at that point, because a “friend in need” and all. I’m so used to people going into “bum mode” when something like that happens, but I should have considered how Kev really is a hard worker.
Kev did bounce back, he got some job and started making money just in time, just like I did myself when I got 2 job offers just weeks before barely having rent in the bank. The problem with Kev is, even though he started making more money, he already felt such a loss, that his hustling habits started back up.
By the time I left Louisiana, he had managed to beg around $40 off of me, which is a *lot* because I don’t give money out like a charity, usually. He also owed me a little weed, but it didn’t matter by the time I was leaving Louisiana because I didn’t want to be traveling 2000 miles in a uhaul pulling my van holding on to a drug that could literally cause me to lose everything if I was caught with it. At least, that was before getting the medical marijuana card, but then again, while moving, that card would be worthless in the 5 states that I would travel through on the way to Nevada.
Nothing justified the years of paying monthly on my back taxes like watching Kevin lose over $10,000, and not even want to approach the IRS to see if he could get that money back if he agreed to file all returns not previously filed and get on a payment plan to pay any back taxes owed. When I suggested that to him, he looked at me and laughed, saying “I will never make enough money to pay them what I owe them.”
That’s what I may have thought myself at the time when I got hit with the letter from the IRS after they “evaluated” my case and gave me the bottom line figure that I would owe them. It’s ironic that I talk about how adversity creates inspiration and motivation, because the year that I got that bill, I’ve already said I made more money than I had ever made, and more than I have made any year since then.
Now, I would be crazy to jack my income up over $20k, because I have to keep it below %133 of the federal poverty guideline in order to be eligible for medicaid. Why is it so important to be eligible for medicaid? Because, I realize that if I made $20k instead of less than $15.5K, at least according to the federal poverty guideline issued for the year 2014, I would probably not be able to afford insurance payments, prescription cost, plus paying estimated taxes all year so I don’t owe over $800 like I did this fucking year!
I was lucky because I anticipated putting out around $600. I thought I had paid enough to only owe $500 by the time I filed, but the fucking self employment tax calculator I used was off by hundreds of dollars!
Yeah, I thought I would owe $500, and because the first estimated tax payment is due April 15th, and I wait until nearly the last minute to file because I know I have to pay out, I was ready to put out $200 for the first payment along with $500 for what I owed. Unfortunately, I owed $800 and still had to make a payment by the April 15th first estimated payment deadline, so I only paid $100 in estimated…
I am not paying estimated taxes quarterly this year. That shit is too hard, because every time I am prepared to put out over $400, for one quarterly payment, some shit comes along and causes me to delay paying that much, and then I fail to catch up later in the year. This year, I’m going to pay $250 or more per month, so by the end of the year, I will have already put up $2000. That way, if my taxes are higher than that, it can’t be by much, and I will be able to make a full first estimated payment at the same time I pay off whatever I failed to pay for the previous year.
My expenses went down, my income went up for 2014. That would normally be a good thing, but not in my case, because it bumped me up to the next higher tax table and I got hit with about $400 more in taxes owed than the previous year. Just making an extra $2000 cost me more than $400 in taxes… Not spending $500 in expenses this year that I spent in the previous year also raised income by that much too, which fucked me even harder.
The truth is, I am such a cheap bastard that I have been successful in my first month quitting smoking because I can’t bear to pay nearly $200 a month in fucking cigarettes! Fuck nicotine, that shit is too fucking expensive! Paying that money for cigarettes each and every month was throwing away some of the income that I am limiting to be eligible for medicaid!
Drinking beer also contributes to money loss over time, in what adds up to a shocking annual expenditure, but not nearly to the extent that cigarettes were. The sad thing is, our wonderful, allegedly “free enterprise” system came up with this strategy of penalizing smokers with artificially raised cost in order to deter them from smoking. Isn’t it ironic how the poorest of people cling on to such an expensive, self destructive habit?
When I started to seriously add it all up, it was so shocking to me that I was able to be bled so hard by taxes and then waste so much money on top of that! I, like most people, would choose for years to be so lazy that I would have every ability and intention of adding up those little costs over time, but I would conveniently prioritize it so low that I would never get around to it.
It wasn’t until I started to add stuff up in my mind, using approximations about frequency that are probably remarkably accurate without going back to the receipts that I have organized into categories. I could have simply started using a more thorough method of organization to put cigarette receipts in one envelope, and then pull it out after 3 months of accumulation to come up with a monthy, and yearly average cost. That would have probably shocked me into quitting smoking right then and there.
I didn’t need a “new years resolution” to quit smoking, or to make my accounting method more purposeful and serious. I have finally dumped my out of state checking account, so I can have all my income reflected in all deposits in just one account. Lucky for me, the local account that I have now allows me to search for specific transactions over a defined period of time and actually provide a total at the bottom of the spreadsheet.
I won’t mention names of banks here, but the old bank had the capability of searching a date range for deposits, but they didn’t give a total at the bottom. I would have to take a screen shot of that spreadsheet and then manually add up the numbers over a whole year with ‘calculator’.
The new account does it for me, so it’s one stop shop to see income total at any give time in the year. This allows me to create a very distinct trajectory over time and give a pretty good estimate of annual income based on the first few months.
This is internet publishing, so amount of income can fluctuate based on effort put into the work itself. The second one stops updating things, the money stops soon after. The work basically goes “inactive” and people start copying it and putting it everywhere. I like to say that all models quit, and when they do, the dating sites start using their images as spam, because nobody that attractive joins those dating sites.
So, instead of quitting smoking cigarettes as a new year resolution, I made a fiscal year resolution. It’s not exactly the same time as a corporate fiscal year, it’s an idea that pops into my head when I consider my use of the title “the year starts here.”
Now, I have had the idea to not only stash business expense receipts into one envelope, why not use the 3 categories that I use the most? Supplies, Repairs and maintenance, and Legal and professional services are the 3 categories that I have used consistently for certain things, and I maintain all receipts and notes on why those receipts are relevant.
I get so specific that because food is something used as a “prop”, I can’t put it into the Deductible meals and entertainment (see instructions) category. It’s bad enough that I use “supplies” when it’s followed by ” (not included in Part III).” The “meal” is being used as a prop in a mini documentary, so it is actually more of a supply, assuming props for production would go there. It’s an item being used but destroyed in the process of creating a documentary which generates nearly all income being taxed to begin with. It’s a full circle that somehow combines taxes with food. Weird.
Because I would not want to appear to be abusing food as an expense, I keep all food receipts that are not used as props in another envelope. If I were ever confronted about the use of a dozen or so food receipts as expenses, I would pull out the huge envelope of food receipts for the same year that were *not used*. While the receipts for the food that was not used are irrelevant to taxes, being in possession of those receipts validates the relatively few receipts that are being deducted as expenses.
This strategy is what I call the “avalanche of paperwork theory”. It cost me an ink cartridge when I was ready to verify my income to the department of welfare to keep my medicaid, and all they wanted was the 2 pages of the tax return that showed income and expenses. Like they had to go compare it to the database they have stashed somewhere that shows what the government already knows I am making.
I’m not taking all of the assistance I could, because I don’t want to be dependent on any system that one political party wants to destroy so badly. Oh, guess who? I don’t have to bash conservatives here, I rarely get deep into politics unless I’m talking about drugs.
I really do need the help though. Even if I made more, I would be paying even more taxes. I am legitimately making under %133 federal poverty guidelines, but I still had to pay $2397 in “self employment tax”. Yeah, I would pay less taxes if I made more money working at a fast food place… That makes so much sense to me.
In a way, Obamacare is not free. I am paying for my medicaid, because my income after expenses is below $15,000 a year, but I am paying $2400 in income tax. I was prepared for just over $2000 because of that shitty online estimated tax calculator. I was doing the whole year income after expenses, so it wasn’t like I was depending on it for the quarterly payments. Now, I don’t want to make quarterly payments because a monthly bill of $250 or more is more manageable than coming up with $750 a quarter… I have no fucking idea why they don’t *encourage* that.
They know that they are taking a big chunk out of a very low income, and they don’t care. I pay it, because I would rather be honest and pay it now than be caught and pay even more later. I know about data mining and data collection. I know that there are databases that I have no way of knowing about, but if it’s possible, and smarter people than me are working on it, I can rest assured that they are reading what I type as I read it. It’s not paranoia, I’m not angry about it, I just live my life in gratitude that I have what I have, and I have the talent and ability to create what I create.
I’m not bitter because I don’t make a lot of money. I don’t make a lot of money because I don’t try. I don’t try because I have very real physical and emotional issues that are waiting to be completely resolved. I have quit smoking, and I am not the slightest bit tempted to go back. I didn’t get drunk on ice beer last night, and I wasn’t trying “not” to drink. I don’t have to drink every day, I could go days or weeks without it and just shift over to another hobby, maybe writing in some blog that nobody will ever read.
I can’t drink when I want to do something, because I know, while sober, that while I’m drunk I don’t want to do anything, except for drink, and maybe rant weird shit on twitter and facebook for some reason. Actually, I kind of suspect the reason already, being a coping mechanism that I picked up when I was emotionally devastated by Candy’s 2 previous departures, and then the constant threat of leaving a 3rd time after we moved to Vegas. Thankfully, that has been resolved, and therefore, Candy has given me a break from being depressed so I can work on my fucking issues for once.
It’s ironic, that Candy wanted the version of me that she met to “come back”. She kept leaving and coming back hoping that every time she left, I would get better instead of getting worse. In a way, I got a lot better after she came back the second time, because I managed to keep working that shitty job that was ripping me off by not paying my payroll taxes, and I saved up enough to move to Las Vegas a 2nd time in my life.
This time I had the big 16′ truck, towing the big shitty van, that I still have and it still actually works. I never drove a truck that big, I never towed a 6 wheel trailer with a shitty van on it, and I was lucky to only have to back up one time, to leave the parking lot I was moving from, and I almost fucked up the trailer hitch right then. Luckily, I had enough space after getting into that weird angle to go forward, clearing a big brick fence, but going right over a bunch of grass.
The irony of Candy leaving and coming back hoping to find a better version of me is that her leaving created a catastrophic deep level depression that would take time for me to resolve. There is no immediate reaction in this complex brain, and habits ingrained over time have to be removed over time.
When Candy threatened to leave the 3rd time, while we were in Vegas, it didn’t help me to get better. It caused me to descend into the emotional state I felt either time she left before, but only on occasion. There were stretches of productivity and drive interrupted by intense episodes of inner depression. Candy would not see them as an obvious manifestation of anything being “wrong”, she would just notice that I got a little more drunk than usual, or listened to sad music instead of high energy electronic music.
There wasn’t much room for sympathy in Candy’s heart for what I was going through, because she started to feel like she already “had enough”. I started to recognize a familiar pattern where Candy comes back, I am working on myself, but I’m not fast enough, she loses patience, and she runs away again.
I quit drinking vodka because she came back, but she knew that I had to step down with beer until a certain “point”. That point was for me to choose, not her, and she recognized that while she was gone, she wanted to work with me to get through it because she was not with me for months before.
I would make promises, but still know and share my limitations based on my ability to just “snap back” after what really was a complete nervous breakdown. Most people who got down to the level I did would have had to go through a lot more bullshit before pulling themselves out of it. The fact that I managed to get a job while Candy was gone showed her that I could stay sober long enough to at least pull that off.
When Candy came back, I didn’t think I was overdoing it, but I kind of was. I was setting limits on myself and then breaking them repeatedly. We were staying in different rooms, and by the time we would decide to “hang out”, I was drunk already. I didn’t stay drunk all day, but our timing was such that we would tend to “do our own thing” all day and then maybe hang out in the evening. If I started drinking too early, or Candy hadn’t announced she wanted to hang out early enough, I would start with the beer, and it didn’t take much.
When I was doing vodka, I had a high tolerance. When i started doing beer, I used the 12 pack limit over 2 days to try to control myself. That started to break down, and not long ago I was picking up the 30 pack because it’s “cheaper”.
It’s not really cheaper if a 30 pack is consumed in even less time than 2 12 packs. It wasn’t until I started to see myself descend into a higher and higher tolerance that I realized what I was doing to myself. I was slowly letting it get worse instead of better.
Candy had an epiphany that involved a lot of shit I don’t want to get back into now, but she realized that she couldn’t control me, and the time line for me to get back to “normal” was not decided by her, or even all parts of myself. It wasn’t until I decided to finally stop smoking that I realized how much control I could grasp again over all other addictions disguised as “needs”.
Candy is related to my desire to quit smoking as well, because when I watched her breathing getting worse and worse before treatment, I realized that she didn’t even smoke and she could barely keep enough oxygen coming in. She’s huge, so just standing up for her is like me picking up 300lbs. I can only imagine what it would be like to be on a level of gravity that few humans ever experience, without weight lifting.
I started to notice that as I was pushing her around on this bariatric transport chair that I would get winded way too quickly. I would notice it during sex, and also realize that it effected my energy level too. Once I started to realize how much i was paying to destroy my sex life, quitting smoking wasn’t a priority, it was a necessity.
Because I can actually use having sex to create content, which creates income, I also have another incentive to stop spending so much of that precious little income on something that is destroying my physical ability.
Now that I have quit smoking, there is less of a desire to consume too much alcohol, because there is a renewed awareness of my ability and how it is compromised by the use of both nicotine and alcohol.
If I think I am a relatively smart person, I should not have figured this out so slowly. On the other hand, it’s hard to want to improve yourself when you secretly want to die. I had to have many varied experiences involving other people besides Candy to finally realize that I was limiting my own potential and also the time I have to do everything that I fantasize about doing in my short and half over life.
In just the very first month that I have quit smoking, I have tested myself in a variety of ways, and I already see a marked improvement of oxygen intake. I realize that I have smoked for 2 decades on and off, more on than off, and it will take much more time to do serious healing. I realize that I may never be granted with the full capacity I might have if I had never started smoking that shit to begin with.
One interesting fact, after getting the medical marijuana card, I made the simple observation that nicotine doesn’t get you “high”, it just takes you down from an anxiety that is created by the addiction to it in the first place.
That shit is fucked up. I get so mad at myself when I realize that quitting smoking right now, and paying taxes monthly instead of quarterly, is going to cause no change in my budget whatsoever. I don’t have to set aside money for taxes if I’m paying monthly, and because I’m saving almost that amount by not spending it on something else, the taxes become more “invisible” unless they go even higher.
When I bring the drinking down to half of what it has become, I will be saving even more money. The beer doesn’t cost as much as cigarettes though. If I spend $8 on beer as often as every 2 days, that’s still $120. That is the maximum allowed amount that I let myself get though, with my strategy of attempting to control alcoholism through intake restriction rather than abstinence.
I was spending that much on crap that I don’t need, and I am way too poor to think I need that shit! I am not bitter about being “poor” because I enjoy living with such a strategic outlook and not giving away money on crap that I am being made to believe I want, when i don’t really want it.
I have been putting off changing my cable bill for days because I didn’t prioritize doing it, but I got a digital antenna that picks up more channels than what I paid cox cable for 13 of them. $27 for 13 channels, that I would say are “shitty” but I do appreciate local news. The irony is that there is a free digital channel just for local weather, that shitty cox cable doesn’t include in the minimum package.
I’m glad I write here now, because I’m going to bring my cable bill down under $100 a month, and still have the highest speed internet below business level, plus the shitty phone with no long distance as a local incoming phone that doesn’t use up “minutes” on the “pay per minute” plan I still use! While some people spend over $100 a month on a fucking phone, I pay about $20 every 2 months for a cell I only use when I have to.
I can make so little and be so content because I own my shitty vehicle, and just have to bust my knuckles up a little when it fucks up. I have an old shitty phone with no internet, that I don’t have to pay on monthly. I build my own computer systems about every 2 years, so I haven’t purchased a company branded computer system since the late 90’s. I don’t watch much television, so I have one, but it’s an old CRT probably less than 40″. Now I have a digital antennae hanging from the ceiling in an artistic way that picks up more channels than the bare minimum shit package from cox cable.
I can live off of less than $1000 a month, but I make a little more than that, no matter how much I try to keep it at a certain point. It’s like a natural habit for me to do things online that happen to promote my business and end up causing a little bit of a ‘surplus’ here and there over the year.
That’s why my next investment is going to be to accept mastercard as well as visa. I’m saying this as ccbill takes around $85 out of every payment until they hit $500 for the annual visa renewal required for them to process visa for my website.
Another irony. The clips4sale store sent me a 1099 for over $11,000. When subtracted from total deposits, that means the web sites made just over $5000. That is before expenses, which is why my income is still under $15,000. My expenses were still under $2000, which fucked me, which is why I want to pay the additional $500 this year to start with mastercard.
I didn’t do it originally because mastercard was such a smaller market. When I could not take visa, my membership went into the toilet. I only started clip stores because I could not afford the $750 way back to take visa when they started to require it. I should have, because by now, I would have made more, and the renewal would have been less painful when it is taken out of income rather than spent on it’s own.
I will have to spend the $500 for mastercard just to keep expenses up to what they were this year, because my cheap ass doesn’t like to spend money, even on the business. That’s why I have had to quit smoking and now I want to quit drinking because of how much money I could save, meaning how much less I have to make, meaning being even more fucking lazy!
I am such a hippy now. This flower child wants to do the least work possible, but I have issues when some of my “fun” is in promoting and creating the work. If you love what you do, you never work a day in your life. I guess that’s why I am addicted to creating super fat content.
With this new year, new energy, and new motivation, I have also finally created some video that I have wanted to create for a long time. I have been going back to doing the hardcore stuff. It’s not as easy with a fucked up hip, but I still manage it, and now that I have better oxygen intake and more energy, I am getting back to where I was in the Florida days. I know I’m not even close to being back there yet, and at my age, I’ll be lucky to get to %80 of what I was capable of when I started in the early 30’s.
I impressed myself with my last clip though. I haven’t released it yet, but instead of being 14 minutes long, I accidentally got up to nearly 25 minutes. I was just having so much fun fucking the piss out of Candy in front of a camera again that I got carried away, and it shows. That’s the whole point though.
I am finally getting back to who I was so long ago. It’s ironic that Candy always wanted this guy back, but it took even more than getting her back to bring him back. I have to give some credit to another woman that I had to hurt so badly, and I feel badly about it. If it weren’t for her though, Candy may never have realized what she was about to lose forever.
I guess one can take it for granted that Candy rarely, if ever, reads this blog. When I talk ‘about her’ in the way that I do, it’s not spiteful or with any need for vindication. I point it out because it is the truth. There is another woman who helped me greatly, and it did hurt me deeply to have to disappoint her.
Candy wants this version of me to come back, but that version existed with different rules, agendas, and inspirations. I am still trying to resolve how I can fully return to the mindset of wanting to be fully monogamous to Candy, after the change from that status seemed to start a chain reaction that almost destroyed the relationship on multiple occasions.
I am not saying that I need an open relationship to return to being the guy I was when Candy met me, but I can’t help but notice the connection from the patterns created in the past. Candy left the first time just months after I said I only wanted to be with her. That did something to me that hasn’t been “fixed”, and as I clear my head of the nicotine and alcohol, I am starting to see it more clearly.
I worry that the need for alcohol arose to begin with because I could never be happy with myself if I never got to the bottom of what I think I want or need out of life and relationships with women. I’m already kind of a “special case” because I am a “pornographer” and I tend to enroll whoever I am with into my work.
I say “whoever I am with” because there was the super sized woman I have already posted photos of here who I worked with when Candy was gone the last time.
The woman I met and had an affair with while Candy threatened to leave a 3rd time had a remarkably similar look to this woman, and she was actually available, and ready to go all out into a live in relationship when Candy was ready to eject.
One can imagine what this has created within my brain, and how I am still resolving this, even as I continue to try to better myself by quitting smoking and finally controlling drinking. All the things Candy really wanted, and I had to fuck her over in order to give those things to her. The irony is never ending in my life.
The title is a popular song by the electronic band Prodigy, and it’s an awesome song on it’s own, but I have a memory of being taken to the hospital, where I still get a bill every month that I spitefully pay just $5 a month on for that ride. I didn’t get charged by the hospital, luckily, but the freaking ambulance company is up my ass about a ride they are charging me over $700 for. The cab ride back to the apartment from the hospital was under $20 with tip.
I got to talk to someone else recently who has endured this kind of thing. Calling out for help sometimes gets you in even more trouble than you started out with.
In this photo I look like I am a psycho nursing assistant or something, but it’s actually a patient “uniform” when you get checked in to the ER at Earl K Long in Baton Rouge for a psychiatric evaluation. Never call a suicide hotline while drunk! More importantly, make a cop take you to the hospital because you will end up with a bill over $700 for a ten minute ambulance ride!
Now I could probably try to get medicaid to pay that, but I don’t want them to get the cash that quickly. I don’t think it’s right for people to get carted off in an ambulance when they could take the ride in a cop car. I really should have refused the ambulance and someone should have offered a ride, but then again, I didn’t push it, so nobody threatened to “take me to jail” if I didn’t go in the ambulance.
I know a cop could have taken me, even if they had to cuff me, but then again, if the ones who showed up were too lazy, the one that did put me in a car would have probably threatened jail just to get me into the ambulance. I was drunk and depressed, in that “drunk crying” mode. I was allowing myself to literally shake with anxiety because in my mind, this was the potential start for a much longer journey than just the hospital trip.
I wasn’t sure at all about what it would be like, or how long they would really keep me, or what kind of accommodations I would find at wherever they were taking me. I didn’t know if I should expect the kind of thing I see in the movies, or if it would be worse.
When I got there, I was admitted, and they tested my urine and gave me ativan because the figured I was a pretty high level alcoholic to have that level, and they didn’t want to deal with seizures if I was physically dependent. Luckily, even though I have been drinking about six years, I still never got to the point where I could handle the kind of amounts that they were probably assuming.
I am lucky to have the background and history of smoking as much weed as I did, because I have read somewhere that it helps prevent seizures that can potentially come from sudden abstinence from alcohol after several years of using it regularly.
I was in a weird mood when I started this post, probably buzzed, and I even used that photo of me in the paper suit while I was creating the first draft. I would say I’m “not feeling it” anymore, but something kept me coming back to this post in an effort to figure out what I was ranting about this time.
I know that I didn’t appreciate having a $700 plus bill show up in the mail after going through such an ordeal as putting myself in that situation in the first place. Then I had to go to the hospital and show them my actual financial state at the time so that they didn’t hit me up for over $1200. That would have been over 2 grand for making one drunk fucking phone call!
At least I didn’t get caught trying to drive while fucked up because commercials out here in Nevada indicate they will take $10,000 from you by the time it’s all said and done, and you lose your car and license, unless they are figuring that all in with that horrible threat.
I’ve posted enough about “luck” and that didn’t have anything to do with never getting caught driving while fucked up. I actually have an anxiety about trying to get behind the wheel even if I have been drinking a little bit, because I know very well that if some a-hole pedestrian walks out in front of you, it’s their fault if you are sober but your fault if you are fucked up.
That makes no fucking sense to me whatsoever. I mean, if some drunk guy hits a bus stop, like one just did recently very close to where I happen to live, he should get slapped with the harshest punishment available. He fucking killed somebody. At the same time, nearly every week, some asshole tries to cross the street in total darkness in the exact point between intersections where they should not fucking be crossing. Add to that if they are drunk and wobbling all over the place while trying to cross the road in total darkness, and you can guess that Darwin’s law will prevail, and that asshole will be another statistic shown on the news.
Most of the time, those suicidal pedestrians are taken out by people who happen to be *TOTALLY FUCKING SOBER* and very lucky to have been on that occasion. In those cases, the drivers aren’t charged, because the cops know you CAN’T FUCKING SEE THESE PEOPLE IN THE DARK. If, on the other hand, the driver happens to have had as little as a few beers, then criminal charges come into the picture.
That’s why I am scared to drive drunk. I’m not scared I would cause an accident, I’m scared that some idiot would cause an accident and then I am still at fault because I happened to be drunk. Because of this, I don’t drive drunk myself, but I am not so militant about drunk drivers. If I lost a loved one to a drunk driver, I still would not occupy my time or energy in pursuing “every other drunk driver on the planet”. Those people do that so they don’t go buy a gun and take out the *one drunk driver* that really matters “to them”. 🙂 I know, dark.
I am not just lucky, but work hard at keeping myself as safe as possible when I am fucking around with a drug as dangerous as alcohol. I like getting drunk, but I understand and respect the power of that drug, and I know that it’s ironic that out of all the drugs on the planet, this is the one “they” chose to sedate us with.
I really wonder how and why they could not have encouraged the use of marijuana over alcohol because it is so much less dangerous. Then, I remember that they only made marijuana illegal in the first place because they were racist and wanted an easy way to lock up as many minorities as they could. I have read that it started with Mexicans, but it worked so well for them that they kept the law in place for blacks. I am guessing that crack was a real boom to police unions and private prison investors, as well as a big win for racists everywhere who want to continue to lock up more people than any country in the world.
I also keep in mind how big pharma and big alcohol love the lack of competition from this meek little harmless plant. Occasionally, now that the walls are coming down against the removal of marijuana prohibition, people are trying to lump in pot smokers with alcoholics, and I am kind of offended, even though I happen to be both at the same time.
I know that if pot would have been legal, I never would have started using alcohol regularly in the first place. I have to wonder how many investors in big alcohol know this for a fact, and are close to knowing an exact statistic of how many regular customers they would not have if weed was legal.
I also wonder how much cancer could have been prevented or slowed down from killing so many people if weed was legal, since it has been proven that weed does inhibit tumor growth. I have read that this was discovered way back in the 70’s, but the information was suppressed because they were trying desperately to find something *wrong* with weed but just couldn’t.
In fact, I failed to mention how genesis 1:29 in the freaking bible says that God created all plants for man to use as food. Hemp happens to be perfectly nutritionally balanced, and yet, the christians are not in an uproar that this “sacred plant food” has been taken away from us.
I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for the “food network” to talk about the merits of weed being the “perfectly balanced food” because they are so mainstream and busy slinging out the pro alcohol propaganda while they conveniently act like weed doesn’t exist. There is a “cocktail” recipe in nearly every show, with real alcohol, but they act like they have never heard of “marijuana edibles”.
I have to wonder how many people never would have resorted to overdosing on prescription medication if they never went to pills because they stayed happy with a little weed every day. I have to wonder how many people are in serious pain, and being denied those same pills even when a doctor orders them, because some dickhead at some pharmacy looked them over and labeled them a “drug addict”, even though they are %100 fucking legit.
All that makes me hate big pharma even more. if the drugs they make aren’t killing you, you are left dying in pain because the masochistic pharmacist doesn’t want to give you the shit that a real fucking doctor said you should have.
I don’t know, I like to say “I’m not crazy, this fucking reality is out of it’s fucking mind crazy.”
Of course, that is a typical statement of someone who is bat shit crazy, to assume that they are normal and the rest of the world is just fucked in the head.
In my case, when I look around at the world, and see comments people make online about different things, I really start to wonder if everybody is really fucked up in just one small way, and they are only functional because they can hold down that little bit of crazy long enough to get out of the public eye and express it in some kind of fucked up ritual.
I am happy just smoking a little weed, but that was “too much to ask”, before moving 2000 miles and going to a doctor for x-rays that show I need a hip replacement at the age of 46, and I am going to suffer in pain until it is replaced. If I still lived in Louisiana, they would be giving me fucking tylenol for this massive occasional hip pain. Louisiana can forever suck my balls.
Even now, I consider how after surgery, I will probably be given some heavy duty shit, and because I have long hair, the dickhead at the pharmacy might deny me of it when I really need it. On the other hand, I have a history with my pharmacist, and I don’t go in there all nervous, anxious, and itchy, bitching if there is any delay on my precious fucking pills. I have been in there and watched the kind of people they have no choice but to turn away. At the same time, the local news makes a big deal out of people who have had to go to up to 30 pharmacies to get one medication, and one of those fuckers was in a fucking wheelchair!
When I said “take me to the hospital” a little part of me had given up. I reached a kind of “rock bottom” that didn’t require a televised intervention or even the participation of family and friends. At the time, my family was literally scared of me more than they were scared for me, and my “friends” were pretty shitty and fucked up themselves at the moment.
I had nobody to turn to but myself, and while I did check in for a 3 day holiday, it was really educational. After all the alcohol I had abused, it wasn’t until I was on ativan that I managed to see from a slightly different perspective, and pull my head out of my ass long enough to finally start to straighten out all the shit that was fucked up with my life.
In a way, the visit to the hospital did absolutely nothing to improve my “condition” on it’s own. The medication combined with the intense boredom of being stuck with nobody to talk to but yourself was enough to change my perspective to the point where I realized that I either had to figure out a guaranteed way to take myself out, or I had to figure out a way to maximize the potential I have for growth and development in the future.
I think that a spiteful part of myself wanted to get back out there into “reality” just to see how much trouble I could cause without getting into trouble myself. In a way, I think I am still doing that. My work is pretty unique, because there aren’t many super sized, or super morbidly obese women who are approaching 500lbs who literally suck and fuck on the internet.
I had to sober up “just enough” to get a job, to keep the apartment, to meet a few women, to build my confidence, to get Candy back, to get back to work doing what I was meant to be doing all along.
In a way, my life is even more crazy now than it was when I was just drinking myself to sleep every time I woke up. I was boring, typical, useless alcoholic. Now, i create content that is just raunchy enough that it stands out against the competition just enough to pay me just enough to make me want to keep creating it.
I am kind of taking money away from other people who are doing the same thing. Every dollar I make I am grateful for because it’s a dollar someone could have spent somewhere else, but didn’t. I realize that everybody and their grandmother, LITERALLY, are trying to make a dollar in the adult realm online.
There are granny phone sex chicks that are super sized but don’t even use that to their advantage, or just started to recently, which gets them into modeling. That’s how I met and got started with Dia from bbwdungeon.com. She was in phone sex, she was a SSBBW, and she didn’t think that she could market her real look in order to promote her phone sex. Now women are doing it all the time.
I love saying “grannies” because I did some math and concluded that a woman is old enough to be a “granny” at just 32, if she had a kid at 16 and that kid had a kid at 16. When you raise that to 18, you get 36. If you raise it to 18, you get 42. Candy happens to be 42 right now. 🙂 I have concluded that when Candy does hardcore content, it is not just SSBBW hardcore, it is actually SSBBW granny hardcore. 🙂
Being a ‘granny’ isn’t just for “parents” anymore. 🙂 Being a MILF probably doesn’t require having kids anymore. Even if someone has biological kids, it doesn’t mean they have to have custody of said children when they do porn in order to be called a “MILF”. I think that is just one of many “flattering” terms that have been given to fetishes and sexual preferences that don’t involve magazine cut out “allegedly perfect women”.
For example, “BBW” is supposed to mean “big beautiful women”, but I have often commented upon how the “beautiful” is easily disputable not only based on facial charisma, but on personality and general attitude. In other words, there are some fat women out there who are just real bitchy cunts! They really don’t deserve to use bbw no matter what they look like, but I like to call them “big bitchy women”. 🙂
So, the content that I create can get a little crazy, because all I have to do is cross over into a few more fetishes and it gets insane. I put on a horse head mask for one video and so there is “mask play” and “pony play” as well as the already crazy combination of SSBBW granny porn. If I toss some food in there on top of that, you have “feed me fuck me” ssbbw granny porn with mask play.
I don’t know, but maybe I just found a way to end this post, and justify the title “take me to the hospital”. 🙂
Also, this reminds me of how badly I want to do another SSBBW “feed me fuck me” hardcore clip and Candy has been procrastinating because she is fixated on the food she wants for feedee videos!
My life really is “crazy”. 🙂
I don’t like to depend on “luck” as we call it, or think we know it. I live in Las Vegas, and I don’t really enjoy or feel compelled to gamble. It’s really ironic to move nearly 2000 miles from Louisiana to Las Vegas and not want to gamble.
I blame it on my cheapness, and my weak but solid knowledge of math, statistics, and odds. I make one assumption when I walk into one of those massive super store type casinos. The odds are in the house’s favor. Beyond that, I realize that any money lost would be a natural consequence for betting against that house.
The cheapskate trait that I have noticed most of my life comes in when I realize all the things I could do with money rather than gamble it away through some lottery or machine. I also make subtle calculations on how much money I would lose over time if I continued with a regular gambling habit that seemed small.
As cheap as I am, and as aware of odds as I am, I still smoked cigarettes for a few decades on and off. I had managed to quit before, for over a year, but something would eventually trigger me into going back to it. I’m only at day 17 and I’m acting like I have beat smoking already, but I am used to using patches and now there is the “emergency e-cig” too.
After just a few weeks, I’m already having dreams about smoking, but instead of fulfilling a fantasy of wanting to smoke in those dreams, they are more like nightmares, because of the feeling of disappointment after taking that first drag on the “dream cigarette”.
I have been in some kind of inner conflict for the longest about if luck is something that really exists, or if an old cliche’ is true about the more you work towards a goal, the more luck you happen to run into. I don’t test my luck in a casino because just like the psychics like to say “it doesn’t work that way.”
When I consider where I am right now, and how things are going, I am forced to remember what it was like when things were so different, and I was so different. My “growth” was hindered by the abuse of just one drug, alcohol, for months at a time, and I didn’t seem to grasp the seriousness of the situation I was placing myself in.
Now, I have only taken a baby step towards being somewhat “fixed” in quitting smoking. That is just one little habit in a long line of impulsive behavior I have to gain control over. In quitting smoking, I have given myself another level of confidence in what I can achieve when I put my mind to it.
The truth is, I was merely procrastinating from quitting smoking because the withdrawal is such a bitch. I would have done it long ago, as I have a few times before, but I just didn’t feel like the hassle of a few weeks in first world misery. Once I started using expressions like “first world” more often, I started to realize the arrogance of this concern over such a minor inconvenience.
I was only so “lucky” to get to smoke in the first place because I had the extra income to blow nearly $200 a month on the drug that would probably end up killing me eventually. It seems so simple, when you think of the assumed logical equation of smoking = death. Maybe people who smoke have a death wish. Maybe people who eat themselves up to nearly or over 500lbs also have a similar wish, but it has been modified to abuse a substance that provides life. Food.
I don’t usually post music videos, but I had to give credit to what I chose to listen to while I attempt to finish this blob post without hitting 5000 words, but then again, there is no way I can predict where my stream of consciousness writing will go.
I’m only 2 weeks into quitting smoking, but I already know I will be successful, because I have been reminded in what could be called a “nightmare” that I have to quit, “right now” apparently. There is some sense of synchronicity in this realization, because Candy experiences such breathing difficulty that she is on 2 different medications now.
I never smoked inside after Candy quit smoking, I started smoking outside before Candy ever quit actually. I made it a habit, because I always knew I would quit smoking, and I didn’t want my apartment and everything in it to be polluted with that horrible smell after I quit.
After I quit for just a week, i started to experience my true sense of smell again as well. Now I can taste better, and I can detect so many things in the air around me with a sense that had been dulled for years by this dreadful habit.
I can detect a female that is heavily “scented” from quite a distance. I can also detect when someone is smoking a cigarette in a very wide area. I can smell someone close to me and know if they are an alcoholic, or a smoker, or a pot smoker, or a crackhead.
With that realization alone, I am motivated to stay far away from inhaling burning matter on purpose, except for weed of course. I went to the trouble of getting a card at the DMV from the state of Nevada to get legal permission to smoke fucking weed. What a rigmarole.
I might be “lucky” to have quit smoking when I did, or in the long timeline, it’s already too late and the real tragedy is that I don’t even know it. Either way, I’ll take a higher quality of life while it is granted to this old, abused body. I am still trying to become more “enlightened” even though I realize that because of my age and my old ways, it will be much more difficult than a much younger version of me.
There was really no way to break through to younger me though, as it is, I didn’t become a full fledged alcoholic until after hitting 40, and I am already backtracking at 46. When I gain control over alcohol though, I won’t need to abstain, I will just use it sparingly when the desire arises to reconnect with this aggravating part of myself.
I have had access to more pharmaceuticals than I can pronounce, and I don’t abuse those at all. I know where that road goes, I chose to start using alcohol when I already knew how fucking serious it was and dangerous that particular compulsion can be to people like myself who have issues with impulse control and procrastination and anxiety and depression.
I lost so much while I chose to experiment with alcohol. Candy didn’t even know the full extent of her ability to emotionally disconnect and withdraw when exposed to a “typical alcoholic”. She had family issues going way back with alcoholism, and me being “that guy” brought her back to a family situation that she fled from as a mere child. There was no way she would tolerate that behavior from me.
I don’t think it’s too late for me though, I started reading “Be Here Now” and it gave me an insight and perception that I had not thought of or realized for a very long time. It was like reading that first Dianetics book and realizing that there were a lot of statements in there that I “knew already but never thought of in that way.”
I realized as I was reading Be Here Now by Ram Dass how similar his ability to recall things everyone already kind of knows in a different way is to L Ron Hubbard. The severe difference is that L Ron Hubbard doesn’t write from the perspective of someone who has done LSD.
Ram Dass also traveled India extensively and met with many gurus who made a profound impact on his perception of this reality. The influence of being on LSD a lot of the time could have impacted or biased that experience, but when you think about it, it would bias it in exactly the direction he was meant to go.
Be here now is all about figuring out the simple truth that you are exactly where you are supposed to be at any given time, given your desire to either find enlightenment or hide from it.
Everyone is on a path, and some people ride that path with blinders on, protecting them from seeing the potential branches that they could take which would change their lives for the better, forever.
I have used “drugs” to open my perception beyond what my bias and upbringing and limited education would allow. I have expanded the very experience of my reality by opening my mind up to alternate states of consciousness.
People who are all like “drugs, ew” are so “white and uptight” that it kills me. I can easily see why so many Caucasians will reject the race that they happened to be assigned at birth in favor of one that isn’t so fucking uptight!
I have spent a great deal of time in waiting rooms, getting the much needed and neglected medical attention for myself and “The Candy” simply because the opportunity was provided by this thing “Obamacare” that so many “fake conservatives” are all worked up over. I dread another “republican in name only” getting into office to destroy any chance I have to get medical care while at the same time creating a moral panic over “obscenity” to appeal to the religious right. 🙁
I have read a great deal of spiritual material in those waiting rooms, and I feel that I am very very far from total enlightenment, but even the very first step towards it is enthralling, exhilarating, and beautiful.
I have realized that no matter who I was, or have been, there is room in my heart for change, for the better.
I know that no matter what beliefs I have stubbornly held onto in the past, I can see the “big picture” just a little clearer now. I know that my dependence on any substance has been some kind of false idol that I worship and make sacrifice to in order to maintain my personal status quo of procrastination.
If the first step in solving a problem is admitting there is a problem. I passed that little nugget of self awareness months, if not years ago. I just needed a reason to grow emotionally. I needed to find hope and salvation in the potential of a future I really wanted in order to make myself prepared and available for that future to occur in this reality.
Now, as I take the baby step of quitting smoking, I realize that there is something in my distant future that requires and demands that little positive change in order to allow a chain of events to occur. I am thinking of time a little differently now. Instead of thinking of time on a straight line, I can see how the present intersects with the future due to consequence in ways that I could not see or did not want to see before.
The simple act of quitting smoking has caused me to begin to realize a whole set of new future realities, that never would have occurred to me without having had the experiences I have had, good and bad.
If I had not gone through so much bad shit, I would not have had the motivation or inspiration to continue to get better, and continue to grow spiritually. When I say grow spiritually, do not confuse that with the whole fucked up and contradictory phenomenon known as “religion”.
They are not the same, and can’t be, because current mainstream eastern religion inhibits personal growth by keeping women down and restricting sexual behavior. It will always seem back woods and “redneck”. Just look at any given argument against “same sex marriage”.
I have to laugh when I see what bigoted fools the highly reverent and religious are making of themselves to this current, slightly more enlightened generation.
Maybe I am so lucky, because while in one of my altered states of consciousness, I had this crazy idea of leaving everything I knew so well to travel west and land in allegedly fabulous Las Vegas. I followed some sense of what I know will happen in the future. I know that Louisiana will be one of the very last hold outs to legalizing marijuana.
I know that as voters turn down medical marijuana in the deep southern state of Florida, voters in Nevada approved medical marijuana over a decade ago, but the state of Nevada is pussyfooting around because they are so scared of being hassled over “gaming”. Dicks.
I think that I realize just how lucky I am, to have moved to where I did, just when I did, and follow a highly disciplined regimen of living on next to nothing for over 3 years. It sounds totally crazy, even to me, but I seem to know what’s coming, and I am planning every step of the way before I even realize what I am planning for.
Everything just happens as it is supposed to. I take limited risks in tiny micro social environments, and I create an outcome that I really want. I am faced with a challenge larger than I have ever attempted in all my life in the future. I have to make everything exactly the way I want it, in a way that is even more perfect than I have set it up in the present. The scary part is, I know I am capable of doing it, and it will be done.
I am just that lucky. 🙂
The title might be misleading, because I am not talking about anxiety on a ‘hardcore’ level. That would become apparent without explanation, but I was compelled to use that title before thinking of how it would appear to have a different meaning than what I wanted to infer, simply because the story of why it exists would clear it up without this ‘disclaimer’ being used to clarify.
I found this unusual feeling of anxiety come over me just before posting the last clip on the store. It is a hardcore clip, and I really like this one because I had been practicing some mental exercises to regain a much higher level of climax control.
It had been a long time since getting back in front of the camera myself, and the previous time, there was more time spent waiting for climax to chill the fuck out instead of doing some serious continuous porno style pounding.
I don’t have anxiety about getting in front of the camera, because in the end, I choose what to release and what not to release. At the same time, I still ponder releasing content that shows me passing out drunk while trying to have sex with a ssbbw and she’s texting people on her phone.
I think that shit is awesome. I find the reality sense of flawed work more interesting than something that looks plastic, fake, and magazine cut out. I find it funny when I am failing in front of the camera as I look at it afterwards. While in front of the camera, because I have been doing this for over a decade, I don’t feel anxiety at all about it. I can’t, because if I were to let that creep in, I would have difficulty in maintaining erection AND controlling climax at the same time.
That is the worst too, because if there is ANY effort being put forth in order to maintain an erection, one has to continually skate the edge of climax. If there is ANY issues going on with maintaining control of climax, you are just fucked, and not in a good way.
Just wanted to add some music, if it stays there, but this is a stable channel. I almost laughed as I typed that. I have had 8 youtube channels deleted because even though Candy was not nude in any of the clips, they were considered “obscene”, according to the standard terms of service note that let me know they were digitally murdering 8 of my fucking channels.
There is probably more anxiety about doing hardcore video on Candy’s side than mine. I don’t have anxiety because again, I can just delete the clip, or distribute it for free somewhere as if it got “leaked”. I use EVERYTHING though. My first porno was on VHS tape, and I got it mail order by lying about my age by signing some bogus form, after saving up from mowing lawns to buy my first VCR just for this purpose.
The first porno was not edited at all. There was a disembodied voice of a producer in the background telling them what to do. There was also a lot of laughing and messing around that was probably supposed to be cut out. Some guy literally paid a couple of people to fuck in front of a camera, then placed a tiny ad in the back of a porno, and sold this shit probably out of his house.
The actors in that first porno were not fat. I wanted to see “porno” because I had been exposed to it “at a friend’s house” at probably the age of 14 or 15. Once I got a taste, I had to keep watching it sooner or later. I believe one of the first films I ever saw was “taboo”, but I can’t be sure if it was that movie, or if that was a preview that was shown before the cheesy crap that was being put out at that time.
I eventually tripped across fat porn by literally calling every 1 800 number associated with every porno ad in the back of every porno mag I could get my hands on. Long before the internet, I was doing research by literally cold calling porn distributors asking them for fat porn.
Using that technique, I eventually came across a few fat porno tapes, but a lot of them were from Europe, because back in the 80’s, nobody thought of using fat models for porno until some creepy guy started calling all of them asking for fat porn.
I remember “wrinkles and ripples”, which was probably made in the UK, because there was no dialogue, only shitty music, but there was a scene where two guys walk into a building, and the architecture is unmistakably European, and early 80’s. One or both of these 2 guys walking into a fat prostitute’s apartment were not circumcised either, which is a sure sign that they were not in America.
I am circumcised because it was forced on me, but I’ll take it, because a lot of women seem to prefer it. I still don’t think it’s cool to just do it without permission from the male though. People bitch about genital mutilation in Africa while they do this shit to every male born as a standard in the USA. Anyway…
That first porn with fat women actually had old people too, hence, the “wrinkles” part of the title. Back in the 80’s, they were combining fetishes in these combo tapes because nobody assumed that fat could stand on it’s own. As the years passed, and we get into the 90’s, I remember going to a few adult book stores that were destined to be closed down by shitting fake religious Louisiana politics. Those book stores actually took the leap and had a “fat section” that was separate from “weird and freak” type stuff.
I could almost feel relief that for once, the BDSM and D/S stuff was considered “freakier” than fat porn. Maybe I wasn’t a total freak for being attracted to super sized women after all. No, I am a fucking freak and a half.
So, there is zero anxiety about performing in the porn coming from me, but Candy might be concerned about having a complexion that exists in reality rather than having a magic wand that could photoshop her ass in real life. I know that some of my work could be criticized because I don’t touch up complexion or use filters to hide shit. I have always considered my work to be “real”, and then this shitty “reality television” crap came along.
It’s ironic that people don’t see the connection between the content I create and “reality tv”. Maybe because my shit is “porn” so it can’t count as “reality”. It’s really ironic because porn is about as real as people can get, when they know each other and have been doing this shit for over a decade. When you toss 2 people in a room with a full crew and a producer yelling out instructions in between takes, I’m sure it’s not as real as my shit is. The corporate stuff is so fucking *pretty* though, so it has it’s own following. My shit is gritty, and sometimes literally ugly, and that’s what I like about it.
When I look around at fat porn, I am most drawn to the content that features more realistic models, with actual real life flaws, who act like real people. Heavy duty faking is annoying, begging for cum and then reacting to it like it’s nuclear waste is annoying. Two people acting really attracted to each other while they actually can’t stand each other is not going to translate very well with people who are “porn stars” and not “actors”.
My shit is real, flaws and all. I almost think about it like some kind of perfectly balanced equation. Nothing can be perfect. If perfection was a requirement for existence we would not fucking be here. It’s wild that as I get older, I start to see porn like MATH. In fact, I am starting to see this entire reality being broken down into common denominators and simplified fractions. It’s almost like how the characters in The Matrix were able to see what was going on from streams of numbers and characters across a screen.
When Candy is worried about a flaw or imperfection, I try to remind her, that she is thinking with her brain, and not my customer base’s collective brain. When I saw imperfection, I feel some kind of common ground with people who are literally “out of my league”. If a woman doesn’t have a perfect complexion, or she has some obvious flaw, it makes her more “real” in my eyes.
Imperfection doesn’t seem like a very real qualifying factor in making someone more attractive. We generally see imperfection as something that takes away from perfection. The real truth is, all “fat people” are already considered “flawed” based on their fat appearance. Trying to make flawed fat perfect is something I wish I had a clever analogy for off the top of my head. Maybe “lipstick on a pig”, but that might sound insulting and harsh. Cliche is rarely friendly or politically correct while trying to convey a message of truth that few really want to hear or believe.
I can talk to her all I want about how she is just the perfect fulfillment of an equation that makes her known at all in a world of plastic people, but it won’t help. She is working with her brain, her bias, her experience, her wisdom, her perception, and her reality. As I get older we get along better because instead of being personally offended by some of her observations, I can appreciate just how different her perception can be from mine, as we both simultaneously experience the exact same reality, as 2 unique observers.
Every once in a while Candy will say “fuck it, let’s fuck in front of the cam”, and I am down, like setting lights up before she finishes the sentence. I jump in there full throttle, so much so I might forget to take my socks off and look ridiculous. It doesn’t matter, I leave it in there. 🙂
I love doing it. I get a rush from fucking in front of the camera that brings me back to my “first time” long before Florida and Lexi from fatfantasy.net. I remember spending long days in a back room repairing computers fantasizing about using one to make money instead of having to figure out complex computer issues all day every fucking day.
The first chance I get to express this desire to create fat content, it starts to take off, and then I figure out that I can’t co-exist with Lexi at that age, and that level of impulsive behavior not checked by a clear sense of consequence or long term planning. I was “young, dumb, and full of cum” and I could not resist fucking exactly the woman I wasn’t supposed to exactly when I wasn’t supposed to exactly where I wasn’t supposed to.
I rebelled against Lexi’s control, because I was really in control of all that shit, and she was confined to a bed barking out orders and making unreasonable demands, and conning the fuck out of me the whole time. I deserved it, I was young and stupid, I made promises I could not keep, and I could not resist opportunity when I had multiple bbws and ssbbws flirting with me and tempting me to step out now and then.
i walked away from Lexi and started all the way over from step one. I worked for 3 years for someone else while I slowly accumulated new content and started from scratch. I managed to pull it off though, and by 2002 I was working on version 2 of hotbbws.com because Lexi shut me down for using the Florida shit the first time.
Getting in front of the camera again was getting revenge on Lexi for taking all that content away from me. I have seen content with me in it now and then, and it always reminds me of how I don’t have copies of that shit myself, because I was a fucking “nice guy” and didn’t just take all that fucking shit with me when I left.
I didn’t even take a camera. I had to work for months to save up to buy my first fucking digital camera after leaving Florida because I was too fucking stupid to just take the shit that my credit paid for.
Ok, enough of that. Maybe that conveys the passion and drive behind everything I did after I left Florida. There can’t be anxiety about creating hardcore content within me because I literally get off creating it.
The reason for using the title hardcore anxiety is because of a feeling that sometimes comes over me at that last moment before I am about to post the content I have already created, edited, and uploaded.
I should be so anxious to get it out there I can’t stand it, but sometimes I actually procrastinate before taking the final steps of writing the description and hitting “add to store”. Once I start writing the description, I am into it big time. The last description I wrote was probably so weird that people might want to buy the clip just to see what the fuck I am talking about.
Once I start writing, something seems to just take over, like right now, as I check and see that I am rapidly approaching 2000 words and instead of wanting to stop, my fingers are moving faster and faster. I can type up to 80 words per minute if I am in a good mood and not drunk, and when I start writing here, I may actually go higher than that. I get the figure 80 from the last pre-employment typing test that I took, so that was an unbiased computer generated test with a result that I could only influence by actually typing really fucking fast on demand.
Writing the description soothes the mysterious anxiety that comes about just before adding the clip. I love creating the content, I am excited while editing it, and I can’t wait to promote it. At the same time, i started this follow back shit on twitter, so now I am about to post really inappropriate content still images to a bunch of people following me just to get a follow back.
I don’t have anxiety about losing followers on twitter, because every time I lose 10, I get 40 more at the same time. I don’t even care about twitter itself so much, because it started out as an experiment to figure out how it works, and why people are so bat shit crazy about it.
I still don’t even use a smartphone, so I’m not seeing that shit constantly all day. I didn’t log in at all yesterday, but I did take a moment to log into “tweepi” just to “flush” unfollowers and reciprocate new followers by following them back.
I have managed to make twitter so mathematical and impersonal, I may have actually defeated the entire purpose for it’s existence, except as a source of amusement now and then when I am already procrastinating.
So, I experimented myself right the fuck out of feeling good about promoting my shit. At the same time, I have picked up so many fat, bbw, and ssbbw porn reposters that I could lose %90 of my followers and the remaining %10 were actually MORE IMPORTANT than all the rest. Twitter is mathematically fascinating to me.
Yeah, it’s very impersonal when I can log into an app outside of twitter itself and do 69 clicks to resolve the imbalance between people I follow, and assholes who add me to get a follow back and then unfollow me like I don’t fucking know they did that. I’m ready to start seeing repeated attempts to do this shit by familiar avatars.
I don’t even fucking care about twitter, but now it has turned into some kind of game for me, which is actually more exciting than World of Warcraft ever was. It involves real people with fake avatars just like a MMORPG, but this is a different type of game, because it also involves gaining followers in a specific niche and working the fuck out of it.
So, it’s like the first “video game” I have come across that amuses me to the point of wanting to do it every few days, but at the same time, instead of collecting fictional “gold”, I am acquiring followers who will tend to repost my shit when I am putting out some awesome new SSBBW hardcore and I actually stopped procrastinating long enough to list it.
Hardcore anxiety in my situation is really minor, and it only takes place at the most perfect time, when all the hard work is done already. This minor anxiety is something that I want to dig deeper into my own brain to figure out. I have tried to attribute it to the PTSD left over from Candy’s previous departures. I have wondered if I occasionally suffer from premature ejaculation for the same reason. It’s like i want to shoot my load in her before she can take off again or something! 🙂
I still have climax control, but every once in a while, that shit sneaks up on me. The time when I created the horse head mask hardcore video, the scenario of wearing a mask excited me unexpectedly to the point where I was struggling big time with climax control. I still managed to pull it off, in a few different positions no less, but it was a constant struggle, believe me.
The next hardcore clip had more preparation and getting into position than it had hard sustained pounding. Again, the fact that it had been so rare to create hardcore after all those feedee clips, contributed to difficulty in containing my excitement and my cum too.
I have found that having just a few beers, not getting loaded, but just barely buzzed, can help a great deal. Of course, if you cross a line and go too far with alcohol, there is a potential for difficulty in maintaining erection too. I can’t help but remember the song “Too Drunk To Fuck” by the Dead Kennedys.
I don’t resort to that though, because Candy doesn’t like to have sex with drunk people, and even if we have been together since Feb of 2002, if I am buzzed, I’m still “drunk people” in her perception, and I understand that. I also don’t like to resort to the use of drugs in order to control aspects of my self, or my being. When I use drugs for intoxication, I am exploring a part of myself that I can’t access while sober. That is different.
So, without any enhancement from alcohol, or even Viagra, I have a damn good time in front of the camera. The last video clip that featured hardcore was excellent. I had Candy nearly trying to fake orgasm to get me to climax, because I was getting kind of rough on her, and going on a little longer than necessary for her sexual preference. At the same time, I had finally done just enough hardcore video in just short enough increments that it just started to “come back to me” like “riding a bicycle”.
Even then, the evening that I could have posted the new clip I ended up getting drunk, and when I get intoxicated to a certain degree, I really don’t want to write because it is going to be so fucked up and make even less sense than I manage to make when I am fucking sober, like now.
So, hardcore anxiety is something I still deal with in that strange procrastination technique. Even with that one evening delay, the next day, I was so eager to list that clip that I literally could not do anything else until it was complete. Sometimes, the anxiety may just be a simple sense of timing. Maybe posting it the night before was just a little too soon, because it had not even been a week since posting the last clip.
Maybe the hardcore anxiety is less related to the type of clip, but the fact that I literally can’t wait to list it, so I have to stop myself and hold out as long as possible before slamming that shit up!
Either way, that clip is up, and I am tempted to post another clip on the day that the hardcore clip would have been normally added on a once a week schedule. I don’t want to exceed the once in a week schedule because I am literally concerned about making too much money to be eligible for medicaid, while I am carrying out that whole separate experiment.
Maybe the reason i was compelled to write and get to the bottom of this one thing was just to help me come to the conclusion that I just wrote. One experiment is actually getting in the way of another. Because I have lived with this cursed sense of irony, a part of me may actually be creating a concern about making “too much money” because that’s exactly what a part of me really wants.
What a first world problem to have though huh? Maybe it’s because I need a hip replacement and I am very concerned about being made even more disabled than I am with a bad hip, so I have to maintain the low income to make a transition into disability much more convenient.
Maybe I am concerning myself with the possibility of being physically more fucked up and making too much money because a part of me has experienced something all through life where my low expectations generate a much more emphatic positive reaction when I was wrong about what “could happen”.
I worry about making too much money, and a part of myself realizes just how easy it is for me to make money, and I am left with a variable in an equation that involves future probability entangled with low expectations versus the motivation and drive to do “better than expected”.
More simplified, by worrying about making too much money, I am kind of guaranteeing myself that I will, just to fulfill some kind of passive aggressive inner conflict.
By worrying that some surgeon is going to fuck my hip up, I would be highly pleased at an outcome where I can still walk, and actually have less pain that I do now.
I know, that is a totally fucked up way to live, but then again, it’s the way that I have continually gotten everything I wanted, so much so, that I am left to worry about things that I can’t control, which I have to stop myself from dwelling on, so I can continue to control reality enough to get what I want out of it.
I have to actually concentrate to think of the next thing I “really want”. Odds are, I am going to get it, but I hesitate in even granting focus to something I think I want, because of the possible unintended consequences that may go along with it.
At this age, at this point in my life, knowing what I know, I would never have fallen for the tricks that Lexi played to get everything. At the same time, I don’t have the need to search for and find another Lexi, because as many times as I have lost her, I am still with Candy.
Maybe all of this helps me to work out the lingering PTSD involved with almost losing Candy repeatedly. I know that I still have abandonment issues because of that, there is still some degree of insecurity because of it, and I never would have even attempted to carry out the kind of affair that I did last year if I wasn’t still suffering from some kind of residual emotional effect of her leaving both times.
Now I have caused a negative emotional impact on yet another innocent bystander because of the fickle nature of Candy’s whims. I am not openly resentful about that, but a part of me has not let go of it fully. I’m still bitching about Lexi and fatfantasy. net and that shit started in 1998 and ended in 2000. That little 2 years of my life is still fucking with me. It may be one of the main reasons that I am still creating hardcore content at all.
Another interesting thought comes from this stream of consciousness writing now. As I begin to finally resolve feelings of resentment for Lexi, I start to lose focus of my motivation and drive to create hardcore content in the first place.
Now a part of me can perceive what I am doing externally, because of all the experimentation with alcohol and weed. I can see this old guy who is desperately trying to hold on to some former position of glory, that can and will never be realized again. Maybe that’s part of what would be an otherwise normal “mid life crisis”, except that the biggest thing I accomplished in my life besides what I do now is that fucked up, highly traumatic 2 years with Lexi.
I am letting go of all that, or I started to really let go of it when I heard of her passing just weeks after I destroyed all my physical copies of that work. Irony strikes again. The only person obsessed with keeping me from using that work dies just weeks after I destroy it so I don’t have to look at it myself. Luckily I did save one cd full of photos out of 21 cds, and they were the ones that meant the most to me.
i can let go of the resentment for Lexi and still remained focus on creating what I truly love to create. After all, how many women closing in on 500lbs do you see getting fucked and swallowing right now??? 🙂
Yeah, I am really lucky to have the drive and desire to create this content and have such a willing participant. I don’t feel the loss of Lexi or that entire group anymore, because I have been guided by fate and destiny to be lucky enough to work with this super sized angel.
I managed to comb time and space in order to find one SSBBW that is not scared of cock or cum, and who loves doing this shit so much that if she is faking it is humorous instead of erotic. The truth is, once cock gets involved, she is not faking one bit.
That’s what makes her shit so great. I can see it when a woman is struggling to tolerate a situation, or has some kind of allergic reaction to cum after begging for it for 15 minutes.
I know that is harsh, and I realize that I could not possibly imagine what drives a woman who has such an adverse reaction to being cum on to do porn in the first place. At the same time, the phrase “you had one job” comes to mind too. I have had talks with Candy about this, and she points out that if it gets in your eye it burns, and I can accept that, but it doesn’t explain why some women will allow an actor to cum in her mouth and then literally gag even if she is going to spit it all out.
I never worked with a “real porn chick” before, because I am under the impression that I could not afford to hire them, and Candy would be somewhat intimidated to work with them, even in softcore “side by side” type modeling. There is one model that lives right here in Vegas that Candy and I have talked about, and we would be more than willing to come up with a few hundred to hire her, just because of who she is, but Candy is still intimidated by her.
There have been a few other women who have offered to model for the same amount, but they are escorts and not really professional models, so I am hesitant to invest a nickel in them because of the nature of being an escort in and of itself. From what I have heard, some of them are really good at word play to the point where a guy is paying them to feed them and just hang out without even going all the way. If an escort works to create that kind of scenario in a non modeling situation, I imagine that they would be hard to work with as they try to “let the clock run out” while doing the bare minimum and not really putting their heart into the modeling itself.
I could be wrong, an escort could be an excellent model, I just wouldn’t know, because I’m not spending $300 to find out! It’s hard for me to justify spending that kind of money to hire a model, when Candy appearing by herself is guaranteed to bring in something. I get the feeling that paying someone $300 to model next to her would never bring in that much more than a video clip of her by herself.
I’ve stopped asking around about modeling now, because it’s not really my place to do that. It’s up to Candy, because she is the one who has to stand, sit, or lay next to this person. Candy may not even be prepared to do that with another model at this point, so I am leaving it up to her if another model ever appears with her again. The last time one did, it was 2009, we were in Baton Rouge, and the woman didn’t want to get paid because she wanted “shared content”.
Here in Vegas, finding an established model that wants to do shared content with Candy is not as easy as you might think. I think everybody here wants to get paid, for anything, and I can’t blame them. At the same time, I see these group photo shoots and I know that each woman probably wasn’t paid individually, because they all have websites, and they could all use that as shared content. In a big group there isn’t usually anything sexual going on, just 3 to 5 big women hanging out while posing next to each other.
Candy hasn’t ended up in that situation, because she has not worked to create that situation. If she had any interest in going out to “bbw parties” and stuff like that, she would meet women there that do this kind of thing all the time. Candy has had a bit of social anxiety though, so without making a grand appearance at a bar somewhere, these other women will never meet her in public, and in the past 3 years, they have not made any effort to come to her.
I don’t really care anymore if I get to work with anyone else now, ever. I had a mild curiosity when I saw a few Vegas bbw models posing together, but then I realized, being a full time model is not even Candy’s “job”. She volunteers to do this for me. I am just lucky enough to be around when she is going on a food splurge, and she doesn’t mind me pointing a camera at her while she is binge eating.
I am also very lucky that Candy is ok with me bringing a camera into our sex life, because I don’t think there are very many SSBBWs at her size doing the sexually explicit type of content that I am creating. If there are, I just haven’t found them because I’m so busy making my own porn that I have lost interest in looking around at everyone else’s.
I can’t believe that as long as this post was already, I came back and added more to it. I guess I was thinking that I was too harsh to end this post with that statement about how unusual it is for a woman to take a job where she is begging to be cum on for 15 minutes and then suddenly has an involuntary spasm of disgust once she finally gets what she asks for. Why work in porn if you hate cum? 🙂
Time is funny. One can remember some events with such clarity, and yet, other events that might be more recent seem cloudy and distant. One can remember something from childhood as they reach middle age, yet most people can’t remember the dream they had the night before.
For some reason, negative events seem to imprint themselves into memory so much deeper than the positive ones, with a few exceptions here and there. I can remember the feeling of achievement when I passed the A+ computer tech certification test without having paid for any training or preparation classes. That memory is not as strong as the one of me driving back to Louisiana while leaving Alexis in Florida, and leaving behind my first successful bbw porn website at the same time.
I can remember some of the songs that played on the radio, like Duran Duran “Girls On Film”. I thought it was really ironic that I would catch that song from the very beginning as I flipped through an otherwise blank radio band in the middle of bum fuck nowhere Florida. I can remember that the weather was nice, and while it wasn’t too hot, I had to restrict my speed to under 55 miles per hour because the radiator in my 1985 Toyota pick up truck was partially clogged, and I had to leave Florida too urgently to replace it first.
I can only partially remember driving to Florida in that same truck, pulling a U-Haul trailer nearly full of junk to a house that was owned by the woman who would later install the fear of death into me with her lies and schemes. I can remember taking the plane to Orlando to meet her for the first time better than I remember driving myself there with all my stuff to “move in”.
I was such a fool to move in with that woman to begin with. I laugh and laugh when I hear about people living across the country from each other, meeting up a few times, then moving in with each other. I’m sure it might work occasionally, but I am now under the impression that you don’t really know someone until you have lived with them over a freaking year.
If you happened to move hundreds or even thousands of miles from your former home when you move in with someone, you are kind of trapped, unless you hold on to just enough cash to get your ass back home for the first whole year. I was dumb enough to get talked into marrying that woman within the first fucking year.
There is no way that I should have gotten married to her, but when she suggested it, I thought it would give me more security in ownership of the company I created if I was married to my partner. That was such a bad idea, because I was so fucking stupid I did not realize the company was really in her name, and so was the website that I poured so much of myself into.
When I got married to her I was entitled to “half”, but only if I was willing to stick around and fight her for it. By the time I was ready to leave Florida, I had no fight left in me. Alexis had me thrown in jail twice on made up bullshit. I was never arrested in my life before going to Florida, and now, at age 46, I have never been arrested since either. I’m lucky that I fought the charges instead of taking a plea deal, because I don’t have any record of any convictions, and I wasn’t forced to stay in Florida for months longer taking “court mandated anger management courses”.
I wasn’t going to fight her for that website or business, and I wasn’t going to stick around Florida one second longer than necessary once the charges were dropped against me. The very day of my final court date, when I was told I was free and clear of all that bullshit, I stopped by and said goodbye to one female friend that was special to me, I stopped by the bank where my business account was to empty that out, and I got on Interstate headed for “home”.
I didn’t even have a U-Haul trailer just yet, I made my first visit back home with my cash and the clothes on my back, leaving an apartment with a third of my stuff in place. Once I established residency back in Louisiana, I drove the 700 plus miles each way a second time to pick up the little bit of crap I could sneak out of her house without her knowing.
I was pretty bold back then, to even try to sneak my shit out of her house when I was waiting on a court date where she agreed to drop any charges that she had made up to begin with. Alexis not only lied to get me arrested, but she also lured me back to her house, to call the cops again, to have them catch me there and lock me up for violating a restraining order.
The first arrest was traumatic enough, but when she tricked me into coming over there just to get me arrested again, she just helped me to make up my mind to leave her and that business far behind as quickly as possible. The second arrest was so much worse, because I was already violating a ‘bond condition’, so I had to hire a second lawyer to get me out the second time, after having to stay in there for five days. The first arrest, I was in lock up overnight. The second arrest, I was in general population for almost a week.
The first lawyer was just for the divorce, and he tried to tell me that he could get me out of jail, but by the third day I was on the phone with another lawyer, paying $3000 on a credit card that I would never pay back. It’s wild, I never declared bankruptcy, but because I left the state of Florida and never allowed any credit agency to know where I was for seven years, nearly $20,000 was dropped right off the credit report. No bankruptcy lawyer needed, or wanted. I had enough with lawyers, and now I realize after all that stuff why people make such cruel jokes about them.
“What do you call a thousand lawyers at the bottom of the sea? A good start.”
I know that I got away without having to pay that credit off, which is good for me, but at the same time, Alexis was able to continue to collect any profit from the business I created for years after I left. It is a good thing she was so fucking ignorant and lazy about how to go about doing that, because her websites all started to go downhill once I left. People actually noticed, I still get occasional notes to this day.
The websites are still there. Someone purchased or was given the business “Bigger And Better Inc” and they continue to keep fatfantasy.net and biggerandbetter.net going to this day. I have lifted a few photos from there to show proof that it was me right there next to Alexis when that business was at it’s height.
I spent a whole year after I came back to Louisiana just getting my shit together. I had to get a job, I eventually had to replace the truck, and I had to find a place to live that didn’t do a credit check so that they would not find me to try to get a judgement, and so the apartment considering me would not see that I had just broken a lease in Florida to get the fuck out of there. I was only in that apartment for a few weeks, and left it cleaner than I found it, but they were entitled to make me buy myself out of the lease because I did sign one.
So, $20,000 in credit card debt, and a $4000 penalty for not finishing a lease. I got off cheap. A few years later, I would fuck up and skip filing income taxes for 2 years, so I did pay an extra $2000 for fucking up like that. I was still lucky in that case, because after spending years paying that off, I made a call and requested “penalty abatement” and I actually got out of paying the last $1000. Again, no scumbag fucking lawyer required for me to reduce my tax liability.
It would probably take them quite a while to get around to auditing me, because I was so fucking honest with them to take on that kind of penalty, pay it off, and keep taxes paid up every year since. I even keep receipts that could be legit business expenses but I don’t claim them, so if I am ever audited, I may actually be found to be wrong *IN MY FAVOR*. I’m sure they don’t get that too often!
It took me a whole year to run into a woman who happened to work with phone sex. She also had a website going, but she was buying skinny content and creating a website to resell it. She was probably doing ok back then with that, because there weren’t tens of thousands of porn sites in existence just yet. This was 2001.
More importantly, there still weren’t very many BBW specific porn sites, and virtually no porn sites that specialized in SSBBW. When I first met Dia, she had never modeled, even though she had an eloquent feminine figure that happened to include FF cup breasts.
Dia was already in the adult mindset, she just never realized how powerful her body type was, until she met me. She hadn’t done much research on the BBW niche’, even though she had been working in phone sex for years already before I even met her. While I was getting myself into all kinds of shit in Florida, she was sitting back making cash just talking dirty on the phone.
I would have thought right then and there that I had met my future forever partner. There was an issue though. Me. The experience I had been put through with Alexis, at that age, with that much loss, created a PTSD like syndrome where I became obsessed with getting credit for my work in Florida, and better, creating something all new that was all mine.
With Dia’s help, I got some pointers on design, and I was able to create a much more attractive site than fatfantasy.net ever was. I also pulled out 21 cd’s full of images from Florida and went to work using those to build my all new site, hotbbws.com.
Within just a few months, the checks started coming. My work had only been seen on one site before, so it wasn’t long before my photos started to get attention and make money. My site was prettier than her’s, even though looking at it now, it is not nearly as fancy as the current corporate assortment of bbw and ssbbw related porn sites.
I like to say that the prettier the site, the less content there probably is. I think that is a really correct assumption when I see the high quality design capability of some webmasters combined with models that quit after a few months, or are way too lazy to create new content on a regular basis!
I was so driven, but it was by revenge. I wanted revenge on Alexis, but not in the typical way that some people go crazy and destroy shit or hurt people. I saw a slogan on a daytime talk show before I ever left Florida where someone said “The best revenge is doing better.”
I could have taken my own advice back when Candy left both times, because I acted a damn fool online, and seemed to get off on making hurtful comments just to disturb people. It took me months after Candy left to attempt to get revenge by “doing better”, and by that time, I had already done too much damage to ever fully recover socially online.
I was crazy motivated to find new models in addition to using all this content I had. I was lucky to have photographed releases, ID’s, as well as about 2 dozen plus different bbws and ssbbws. I didn’t have any of the video, even though I was in almost all of them, and there were at least 2 dozen hardcore videos too. That was back in the days of VHS, before the internet had a prayer of ‘streaming’ a whole porn, television show, or movie.
That was back in the days of DSL and T1 lines. Alexis had invested in a T1, but once cable internet came out, that shit was totally obsolete. I bet that fucking woman kept paying hundreds a month for years on that shit, because the websites were hosted in a fucking garage.
Once I moved back to Louisiana, cable internet was available, and pretty cheap, and I was able to take full advantage of it. It was not long though, before Alexis saw what I was doing, got jealous, and went fucking crazy to knock my shit down. She harassed my hosting company, my internet billing company, and got me shut down by just being fucking annoying. These days I know it is not quite as easy to get someone closed down without a fight, because the companies that exist today are much more stable than the ones back then.
For example, my host was shitty, and over priced. My billing company was fucking GLOBILL. If you do any research on them, they fucking ripped off hundreds of people for thousands of dollars when the last fucking check they mailed out bounced, and people who had thousands of dollars coming in a month were FUCKED. To my knowledge, Globill never fully paid back any of the poor fucks they stole that money from. I hope those fuckers still have problems because of that shit.
It wasn’t long before IBILL went down next, and that was the company Alexis used. I was lucky to have been so fucking pissed at Alexis I would choose CCBILL before ever going to IBILL, JUST BECAUSE ALEXIS FUCKING USED THEM.
All this time a lot of other shit went down though. After Alexis got hotbbws.com version one shut the fuck down, I had to switch over to using all my own content, which luckily, I had been working on for a fucking year by then. Unluckily for Dia and me, my obsession to get new content pissed her off. She was too jealous at that time to understand my absolute need to find other models and pick up where I left off in Florida.
There was a point one day when I had made plans to photograph someone, and Dia was ok with it at first, but of course, we got into an argument right before I was supposed to leave. I was still so fucked up from Florida. I was doing all of this shit just to get back at Alexis, and prove that all that fucking work was mine. I didn’t even care about the fucking money, I just wanted credit for all that fucking work!
Little did I know at the time, if I could have afforded a lawyer, I could have shown that because I was the photographer, I had rights to use that work, and I could have further sued her for damages in getting me shut down. Either way, I fucking hated lawyers, and I didn’t want to fight her. In fact, soon after I got to Louisiana, I cut off all contact with her so that I could not be accused of harassment back in the days before “stalking” existed.
The argument with Dia was heated, and she was so pissed at one point that she said something that I could never forget, and could not accept at the time after Florida. She said “Do you know how easy it would be to kill you in your sleep?”
Now, if it was me in the present, I would give her suggestions on exactly how to go about doing that without it hurting me or fucking up and leaving me alive and fucked up. I have that kind of sense of humor, and now I am old enough to welcome death as long as it’s not too painful and I don’t have too much time to suffer.
Back then, I was still traumatized from Alexis. That bitch had me thinking at one point that people wanted to blow up her house, people were following me, she had mafia affiliations, people were being kidnapped and tortured for information, and we were in debt to an organization that was providing protection.
All that was such stupid bullshit, and I was such a fucking dumb fuck to believe it for a second. I let that foolishness go on for about 3 weeks, and one night, I got fed up. Alexis sent me to what was supposed to be a 24 hour post office, and she gave me fucked up directions, and I was in the middle of nowhere. I hate wild fucking goose chases! I pulled up to a payphone, and at the risk of being shot in the head right then and there, I made one phone call. I called her bluff by risking my very life.
That’s what I mean when I say that Alexis put the fear of death in to me while there. It was only 3 weeks, and I was the one to blame for believing such an outrageous set of lies. I still have the micro cassettes that I used to bug her phone after she pulled that shit, just to see what other fucking shit she would come up with.
I let my mother listen to those tapes before she died, and she was on “team Thomas” after that. She sat back and listened to Alexis talk to another woman about how she knew an ex cop and could have me “taken care of”. That, and a few other statements, provided more than enough encouragement for me to get the fuck out of there. When confronted, Alexis would claim that she knew I had the phone bugged and she said that shit to bait me.
She was a liar, but she was too fucking stupid to get over on me once I busted her compulsive, pathological liar ass. I know that shit was for real, because there was another conversation with her son in law, who was a cop, about how a “pattern of arrest” could show a pattern of domestic abuse, and enable her to forcefully push me out of the home, the marriage, and the business. She didn’t need to do all that shit. All she had to do was ask me to fucking leave.
On another conversation, she talked to someone else about how she had everything “set up” to take over, but she needed my help, and she needed my work ability. I once told Alexis when I knew shit was going downhill that when I finally had enough and left, it would take five different people to do “my job”. To this day, I still believe that to be absolutely true, because i have listed off the many jobs I have to do in another post somewhere I don’t want to stop to dig up.
Before I finally left, before the last court date that would free me forever from her, I had a conversation with her about how I am “out of control” and maybe I should just go back home and leave everything to her. She started crying, begging, pleading for me to stay because she “needed my help”.
I told her that I had a few conversations with her friends that revealed some wild shit. That was the cover I used to avoid telling her that I was still bugging the fucking phone. It was a lot easier to bug a land line phone than it would be to bug a cell, but I imagine even that is not impossible, or very difficult. The fact that I was even compelled to go to a “spy store” in 2000 and buy a voice activated micro cassette recorder and a microphone cable that plugged into a phone jack with a double phone jack plug let me know that shit was out of control already and I had to get out. I was just looking for a reason by the time I was waiting months for my second court date after spending five fucking days in jail and blowing $3000 to get my ass out.
I have to wonder how long it took for Debbie to call Alexis when I stopped by her work to tell her I was on my way “home”. I was really telling both “Little Debbie” and “Big Debbie” at the same time because they worked together. They had both modeled, and I had been filmed having sex with both of them. Alexis would be the only one to see that money after I left, except for the $3000 that I pulled out of the business account and kept in my sock on the drive home.
Back to Dia though for a moment. When Dia told me just how easy I could be murdered, potentially by her, while I was sleeping, it was too much at that time for me to accept. I still regret bringing her to that state of anger myself. The real irony is in the fact that the woman I went to see could not even take photos because her relatives here staying in a trailer near by, or some bullshit. That fucking bitch made me drive nearly an hour each way to tell me that shit instead of letting me cancel online. She caused me to literally kick Dia out of my apartment for saying what she said because she was rightfully angry and upset at me.
I didn’t just put Dia out on the street. I was still friends with my second ex wife Stori at the time. Stori appears on hotbbws.com too, but only in the member’s area, because she wanted to be “discreet”. I was way too agreeable as a fucking pornographer back then! I would tell Dia that I would stay with Stori, and she could take as long as she needed to get her shit together and get the fuck out. I still can’t fucking believe I did that to her.
Because I was so driven at the time to replace my work lost in Florida, and then lost a second time at hotbbws.com, I had to do it. I don’t think I could do that to her now if I was in that situation all over again. I still feel badly about it, and I resent Alexis more because of how badly she fucked me up over there. I really should have gotten counseling for that shit, and so much other shit to follow!
Dia took about a week to two weeks to prepare, and I took her to the bus station, and she went “somewhere”. I don’t even remember now, because she is not where she went at this time. I still talk to her online, and have talked to her by phone, and I have apologized profusely for doing that to her back then. I just could not handle it. I was so fucked up. She had a quick temper, and odds are, I would have pulled some shit sooner or later that would have caused us to break up. I still think she is one of the most beautiful women I have ever had the pleasure and privilege of photographing.
I am fortunate that she is so gracious and forgiving, so that I can still count her among my friends, even if she is so very far away like all of the closest ones, except for Candy. I still maintain bbwdungeon.com as an ad for her phone sex, which she still freaking does. Exoticbbw.com was originally her’s, and she gave it to me when she decided she wanted to stick with phone sex over websites.
Bbwdungeon.com was once a member site, but I could not sustain the costs of hosting it back when I had really shitty hosting. Thankfully the hosting issue is resolved, so I can finally add shitloads of stuff to all the sites. The problem with me lately is the block I have in working with hotbbws.com or lots2luv.com. The reasons for that block are partially explained somewhere else I’m sure, and explaining it again here would drag me way off course, more than I already am.
I hit over 4k in words so far, and now I think I have gotten myself kind of lost. I realize that I had to come back to Dia, after going way off course with Alexis, and then Stori, and of course Candy. There is something I realize is vitally important to go with all of this, and I still haven’t figured out the title of this post just yet, but my stream of consciousness writing always seems to come full circle, eventually.
Because Dia was so fucking hot and my paranoid ass dropped her, I had to find more models. I was working full time as a computer tech with the small shop I worked at before going to Florida, before upgrading from that job to a tech job in New Orleans that I hated having to drive to, park for, and hated them for giving me shit when I failed a drug test 3 months into working for them, as they casually said they “forgot” to do it pre-employment.
That is a whole other fucking story right there, because the fact that they pulled that shit encouraged me to move to Florida and start fatfantasy.net instead of having to suck a boss’s dick every day. They couldn’t just fire me because they failed to give me the drug test before hiring me and paying me for 3 fucking months. They just wanted to give me a shitty assignment in http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chalmette,_Louisiana, which I wasn’t fucking having.
It’s bad enough that these assholes made me come to work the day that hurricane “George” hit in 1998, and left me stranded in a Bourbon Street bar watching television until the water went down so I could see if my fucking truck got flooded while parked under interstate. Luckily, the truck was ok, the shoes weren’t.
Anyway, anybody who has heard about hurricane Katrina knows what happened to Chalmette. If the drive to New Orleans every fucking day and evening wasn’t bad enough, they wanted me to go another half hour to fucking shitty Chalmette. I would be a computer tech in an oil refinery having to wear a fucking biosuit.
That is an important fact to keep in mind, because that fucking computer company influenced me to move to Florida to begin with, and start my life of being a fat fetish ‘pornographer’ forever.
Also, on a side note, those alleged ‘flushes’ to help you pass a drug test DON’T FUCKING WORK. DON’T FUCKING TRY IT. USE SAFE PISS. I was asked by a co-worker when word got around that I failed the drug test “Why didn’t you bring in someone else’s piss like everybody else does?” Too honest for my own fucking good.
I didn’t fuck up like that when I got a job at CompUSA. I was so lucky to have a friend that didn’t smoke weed!
Back to the point. Because I had to dump Dia because I was a paranoid little bitch, I had to find other models. I did just that. Over the course of the next year I would end up luring at least a half dozen bbws and ssbbws to taking photos. I had to weed through the ones who didn’t want to sign a release and just have sex. I had to avoid the ones who just wanted “personal pics”. I had to focus on finding the ones who would let me copy their ID, and sign a fucking model release, and not bitch months later for me to remove them because they are a dumb ass who told the wrong person and they told the really wrong person.
I stumbled upon Candy around that time. Candy would be the death of me and my ambition to find as many models as I could, eventually. We met in early 2002, we were living together by the end of 2002, and we stayed in an open relationship “with conditions” until feb of 2008. I was able to “hook up” with a woman if she was willing to give up the ID and sign a release and be on my websites. That was the only condition.
That meant certain types of women who would inevitably contact me were off limits. A good example of that is “teachers”. I can’t tell you how many times I got an email from a teacher who said “I used to model but I started teaching and…” and i quit fucking reading. Sorry. Not really. Next.
Now, I sit back and watch wave after wave of new models coming into the picture, doing some work, quitting, then appearing in stolen images used to promote dating sites. Every time I see a brand new bbw or ssbbw model doing this or that, I sit back and wait until she quits, or has weight loss surgery, or both.
No matter who just started, or who just quit, there is always another wave of new models coming in and going out. Some of the ones going out like to stick around in the periphery of porn, by running group parties or annual conventions. They are still relevant to the bbw scene, but they still quit.
It is so ironic, that I had to reject and dump so many women over the course of my life to find, lose, and recover Candy. Once I met Candy, I was doomed. I must have fallen in love with her instantly, because I tried to “return her” back to where I found her, but after a few months, she always re-appeared.
Even when she left for 4 months and then for 8 months, I remained obsessed, because there could never be another woman who had the effect on me she did instantly, and further, I had never met another woman who cared enough about my own agenda to let me have it without greedy or jealous emotional restraint.
Once I was ready to give up all other women, I realized internally that I was giving up my old technique in finding new models too. In a way, I kind of “quit” myself, but I didn’t, because I still have her. As many times as I have lost her, i knew, that even if I came across a woman who was similar, there was no way to build up that kind of history with someone else. At 46 years old, I don’t think I have time to go through all of that over again and still be young enough to physically do the shit by the time I did.
I did meet one woman while Candy was gone, that I already went into great detail about. She is the unnamed ssbbw that I showed in the last post. I realized as I re-read the previous post that I said I never used a single photo of her in the 4 years that I had them. By posting her here, I just did.
By bringing up hotbbws.com and lots2luv.com I am kicking myself for not working on them more already. I don’t care about the money, I care about the unused content that sits on DV tapes in a back room closet. I have a computer that I set up with a firewire card just because of that camera and those tapes. I have hours of tapes of the unnamed ssbbw and I will be glad if 4 years in time travel didn’t fuck those tapes up.
I had to add another photo, the last one was after sex, so I’m sure it was not as flattering as this one. This photo was shot in an apartment in Metairie, Louisiana. If I had not moved to Las Vegas the last time when I did, I would have been holding Candy’s hand walking out of this apartment in 4 feet of water during hurricane Katrina.
Fate is a funny thing. Showing Dia at that apartment reminds me that I lived in Vegas before, and I was fucking lucky to have packed everything in that shitty car and have the exhaust scrape the interstate on nearly every big bump because of how all that shit and Candy’s huge ass was weighing that crappy car down. The transmission didn’t last too long after that 2 way trip 2000 miles each way.
The only woman I met when Candy was gone that impressed me nearly as much as her was married and living with her husband and kid. I am still shocked that she did the ID and release, and I really should have added her sooner. Maybe I was worried that with her living situation she might come back on me to remove her. Now 4 years has passed, maybe she forgot about it altogether. 🙂
Now I have used 2 images of this unnamed SSBBW. There is hope I can overcome the block I mentioned before with the 2 inactive sites. This woman is far too impressive to sit on my drive forever.
Just like I said before, no matter how many new models start, or older ones quit, there is always another wave, even if they took photos over 4 years ago! 🙂
I had the chance to watch some videos and read some materials online about the law of attraction, or LOA as they are calling it on twitter. Candy would have gotten me interested in learning more about this, because she comes across a lot of spiritual and self help type stuff as she surfs the internet literally all day in between binge watching certain television shows.
I really like the philosophy and the idea behind the law of attraction, because it involves simple positive thinking and the ability to put one’s self in a mind set where they already possess what it is they want, so what they really want is drawn to them.
There was always a sense that I could accomplish anything I put my mind to. It started back when I was just hitting puberty. I thought to myself “I would like to have my own money.” So, I found out I would need a worker’s permit at the age of 15 or 16, I forget. I got one, and I proceeded to apply for jobs. I was living in such a small town that there were not that many businesses to choose from, and all the kids my age would be hitting all of them the same way I was, if they were so inclined to work as I was.
I got an offer with a local supermarket, but I would have to spend the first week or so working for a store in Metairie, which was a town about 15 minutes away on interstate. I already spent a lot of time out there, because that’s where the big malls were, and all the cooler places where younger people hung out. The supermarket where I was trying to work was within walking distance from my house, while this place required a half hour commute considering both ways.
They were fixing up a store because a regional manager was visiting, or inspecting, and I had to do all kinds of jobs there that were never going to come up again in the supermarket where I thought I would be working. I had to sweep a ceiling, paint a back warehouse, and there was all kinds of cleaning. These were the kinds of things that were only done once a year or even every other year, so while this was my initial experience, it was not going to be the usual experience.
I was so determined to make my own money, that I would try to hustle, and instead of dragging ass, I was enthusiastic and energetic. I was fucking young, so it was easy to be hyper back then. I think back and wish I took better care of myself so that I could have at least more than half of that kind of energy at 46. Now I have to quit smoking and start working out to even come close to having that kind of energy ever again.
When I started working at the local store, there wasn’t any need for the kind of clean up that took place at the other store. The manager at this store was keeping all that shit together so that it never got as bad as it did at the other place. The store in Laplace was a lot slower than the one in Metairie though. The store in Laplace was part of a strip mall, that was one of maybe 3 in the whole town, one of only 2 that I would care to hang out at when I lived there. The store in Metairie was linked on to the back of a big mall, so it got all kinds of traffic from people who wanted to go grocery shopping after mall shopping.
The big job at the store in Laplace was buggy pushing. Yeah, somebody has to bring all those buggies back into the store when they are taken out to the parking lot and emptied out. At least back in Laplace, there wasn’t a major percentage of the buggies leaving the parking lot and being pushed home, like they do here in Las Vegas. It is actually a small business opportunity in Vegas to have a truck and trailer and round up buggies all over the city, and get paid by the buggy to bring them back. Now, businesses have to go high tech and install one special wheel that is supposed to jam up if you roll that thing out of the parking lot. I have no idea how that works, but I should look it up to see how it is hacked.
I would spend nearly the entire shift out in that parking lot pushing those things back into the store. Over time, I started to imagine that I wasn’t even “in” my body, but ordering it to do things for me as I sat back comfortably in the back of my mind somewhere, listening to music I had memorized by listening to my records over and over.
I was impressive to the store manager, who would see so many other kids listlessly and slowly doing the least amount of work necessary. I would be pushing myself as I was pushing those buggies, trying to push just 1 more in the row than I did the day before regularly, or get to the point where I had to stop adding to a regular trip because I might lose control, or lose the end buggy if I had to stop suddenly.
Thinking back I can remember the technique that I would learn to control a big long row of buggies. There was a kind of trick to it. The fewer you had, the more control you had, because you had to shove left or right to stop in addition to steering. If you couldn’t put enough sideways pressure on the one you were pushing, the one at the front would slip right off the row, probably right into someone’s brand new car, and you don’t want that.
The main point about the buggies, and that first job, is that before I got the job, I didn’t know I could do “a job” at all. Even further, I wasn’t handed paint and brush at my own house to paint, but these guys handed it to me expecting a job that would impress a regional manager. I think it did.
I didn’t know I could spend 8 hours in the deep south summers pushing hundreds, or thousands of buggies back and forth in a day, and then turn around and be an energetic kid running all over town after. I didn’t realize how quickly I could save up money to purchase that first car. When I got the job, and started the job, I didn’t think getting my own car was even a possibility, but naturally it would be, because as long as I kept the job, I would accumulate more money. I was a kid, it wasn’t like I was paying rent.
After just a few months of working at this place, I had enough money saved up to buy a used car, and that led me to see another goal realized that I didn’t think was possible while I achieved the earlier goal of getting and keeping a job to begin with. Of course, getting that car would prove to show me what my real agenda was all along, independence.
Buying a first car made such a big difference in the sheer amount of time that I would spend at my childhood home. I would basically be just sleeping there, and by the time I was 17, I could have just quit high school, shifted over to full time at my supermarket job, and got my own apartment. That would have gotten me into way too much trouble. It’s bad enough the way things turned out after getting that car.
When I say it’s bad enough the way things turned out, I mean that with that independence, and that confidence, I started visiting bars at 17 before I was even old enough to be drinking. I would meet up with a woman in her mid 20’s, and she would end up being my first ex wife, because I was impulsive enough to get married to the first woman who put out on a regular basis.
So many things turned out how I expected them, as long as I set small goals, and checked them off one at a time. If I really wanted to get away from my parent’s house, I had to first get a job for income, then get a car for transportation. Once those 2 things were done, I just had to wait until I graduated high school to figure out what I wanted to do next.
I had an additional year of high school, not because I failed, but because I was kicked out right at the end of the fucking year in my junior year. So, I had to do that year all over again, after having a recurring dream of exactly that happening. A lot of kids would have said “fuck it” right then and there, but my mother used to taunt me about how I would never finish high school, so a part of me did the extra year just to prove her wrong. Now I know where my passive aggressive tendencies come from! Thanks mom!
You know, the biggest fantasy I would have had at that time besides having a car, would have been getting laid. While in my early 20’s, with a car, a job, and money in the bank, I didn’t realize how easy getting laid could be, even before the internet. I had to go through some pretty hard lessons and my first ex wife before I understood the dynamics of dating and desperation.
I believe that the only way my story of coming of age is relevant to the law of attraction is in the way that I believed I would accomplish things, and I did. Even when I was young and dumb in my teens, before being young and just as dumb in my 20’s, I still set out to accomplish things one at a time until reaching some end goal. It is something that has become so regular and easy in my life that I sometimes take it for granted. There have been times I have almost gone right off the cliff because of my confidence that the brakes would stop the car in time.
Even now, I have just achieved the latest goal, of getting a medical marijuana card. To people in California, it’s no big deal, because it’s under $100 and you can get it in the back room of a dispensary. Here in Nevada, there is a shitload of stuff you have to be put through before getting this little token.
I was here in Nevada for almost 3 years before getting that card, but just like the process of getting my first car or first regular piece of ass when I was younger, there were steps that had to be completed before hitting the goal. I had to wait on obamacare to kick in so I could get my first hip x-ray. Then, I had to take the radiologist report to some strip mall doctor’s office and give them the routine about how I am too young for hip replacement, but obviously need one. Then, I had to shell out nearly $300, and that is WITH A DISCOUNT because I had brought in actual medical records. Then, I had to wait nearly 2 months for that shit to come in the mail after waiting 3 hours for the DMV to take my fucking photo.
So, just getting that little card took a few steps, none of which were convenient or ‘fun’. If obamacare had started just one year earlier, I would have gotten the card a year earlier, because I made sure to move to a state with medical marijuana BEFORE obamacare kicked in. Before that, I made sure to regulate my income so that I know I would be covered under medicaid, and I could still manage to live on a %133 of poverty level income. So, the actual entire process of getting that card started with me living in Louisiana, making a certain amount for a full year before obamacare even kicked in so I would know I could live on that much, and still move my ass 2000 miles across the country to a state less stuck in the past who has the compassion to allow people to use a fucking plant to alleviate great amounts of physical pain.
To me, the southern states have always seemed masochistic and sadist for turning their noses up at medical marijuana. Further, it is ironic to me that the “river parishes” where I grew up, is also known as “cancer alley” because of all the chemical plants along the Mississippi river right there. Of course when people get cancer that was caused by that fucking pollution, the politicians would say “fuck you, you don’t need that marijuana shit for your cancer.” My mother died of fucking ass cancer in that shit hole state, so naturally, I have a sense of resentment for Louisiana, and every other southern state that continues to force it’s residents to suffer because they are bible thumping fuck-tards from the distant past who can’t get their heads out of their fucking asses to save their fucking stupid, useless lives…
Wow, I got a little negative there. I have always known about the connection that marijuana has to health and well being, decades before all this new research has finally been released, after being kept hidden by corrupt politicians and the corporations who bribed them to begin with.
Every time a southern state says “NO” to medical marijuana, I am reminded of why I had to get the fuck out of there, and why I don’t enjoy giving that place credit for my growing up because I hate it, and the entire southern fucked up region so much. Recently, Florida said NO to medical marijuana, and it’s ironic that with all those suffering old people down there, they are so desperate to keep the status quo of pill addiction and abuse…
Wow, I just got way off the subject there! Maybe not entirely though. I look at the law of attraction as if we are all children, experiencing everything for the very first time, every day of our lives. Just because we grow up, or get old, doesn’t mean we have seen everything and done everything there is to do, if you want to do it.
Even though I am 46 now, I can still relate to being a teenager who is trying to work out how to get that first car when I work out the massive undertaking of moving 2000 miles to get out of bum fuck egypt and into a place that is more progressive and modern politically. When I was young, I thought I wanted to move from Louisiana to Florida. Talk about getting out of the toilet only to end up in the sewer!
Florida would have been nearly *worse* than Louisiana! Just talk to “Florida Man” about that one! Also, I have already mentioned that those assholes recently voted down medical marijuana while Nevada voted it in over a decade ago but just pussyfooted around and cock blocked it up until NOW. 🙂 Nevada is still cock blocking medical marijuana, and I might just become more of an activist to point it out, since they are literally trying to make me suffer by not giving me access to my state approved medication!
Alright, I have wondered so very far from my original subject, and I have shit to do, but I guess I am saying that no matter what the undertaking, or how difficult you think it would be, or how impossible it might seem, it is doable, possible, and if you really want it, inevitable. The law of attraction can’t be taken for granted to the point where you just sit back and think about something all day expecting it to happen for you. The law of attraction gives people the motivation and inspiration to complete those small goals on the way to the larger one, even when that large goal seems unattainable. Nothing is impossible. Believe in your dreams.