Posts tagged louisiana
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!
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. 🙂
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.