Posts tagged super morbidly obese
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.
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”. 🙂
Well, I was impressed yesterday with the delivery of some food that Candy ordered kind of by accident. She was browsing this new listing on “grub hub” and it was a Korean, Japanese, and Chinese variety type of restaurant. It was just out of curiosity that Candy would fill out a whole menu order, just to see how much it would cost to experiment a little bit with a food that she had never tried before.
The menu was impressive, and Candy was just playing around, so she picked out about $60 worth of stuff. She believes that she would have just closed the window at that point, or switched to doing something else, but somewhere along the line, she must have hit “enter” or clicked the one button to complete the process.
I was glad that I was actually home at the time it arrived, because I had just been out to do an errand, and Candy would have not wanted to answer the door. She would have been nude as well, so she would have had to travel all the way across the apartment and back in order to answer the door at all.
She would have probably assumed that the knock on the door was just a solicitation and ignored it, until they called her to tell her that the order was there and nobody was answering. It never came to that though, the faint initial knock was heard from the kitchen just before Candy was about to make a B.L.T. and a fruit smoothie.
There was a moment of confusion at the door with the driver, because Candy never told me she ordered, so I asked her. With the guy at the door, she’s like “I didn’t order anything.” The guy looks at his phone and says her name, and verifies the apartment number.
I realized that Candy had probably already put down the cash on this, so it would be ridiculous to attempt to deny the order and send it back expecting a refund. I told him that she just started a new medication and accepted the order.
Having been a delivery driver so many years into the past, you don’t want to be at the door with this kind of confusion going on, because it could be a much more sinister plot, and I know it would cause anxiety for him. I made a snap decision based on the entirety of the situation, knowing that the food would end up getting tossed, and Candy would be pissed that the money wasn’t going to be refunded.
Candy had a moment of freaking out, where she was like “I don’t remember ordering that!” She knew she had been playing around with that restaurant’s menu, but she swore up and down that she didn’t click “finish order”. As a result, she took a credit card number off the site so she would be forced to endure the whole process of entering it before an order could possibly be made by mistake or subliminal “hangry” slip of the finger.
Candy had been waiting all day for the delivery of a device that would be used for breathing treatments. For some reason, she put on make up early, and hours later, her eyes were burning with the eye liner she applied earlier. She was impatient, hungry, and she really wanted to order a big selection of Mexican food.
I never understand how Candy wants to continue experimenting with Mexican food because she doesn’t really like cilantro very much. Her taste palate is so very sensitive that she somehow picks up a “soapy” taste with that herb. It is used very predominantly in Mexican food, so she is taking a calculated risk with each attempt to order it.
The restaurant that Candy was checking out was kind of expensive, almost unnecessarily so. Japanese restaurants are not usually known for being very cheap, but the thought of Korean food makes me think that it should be more along the cost level of Chinese food. Either way, Candy picked out some exotic things that she had never tried, but assumed she might like.
Going over the receipt online after consuming all of it, she would call out the cost of each item in amazement and disappointment for how little food there actually was. Candy would express her regret by breaking down how she could have ordered food 3 different times for the cost of that 1 time, and it would have been an immense amount of food, if the type was a little less expensive!
Because of this expense, and because Candy had already mentally prepared herself to do a video eating Mexican food, she was ready to jump in there and consume the Korean and Japanese food for a video as if she had gotten exactly what she wanted, but she didn’t.
The food was really good, according to her, there was so little of it that I only had a teaspoon of broth that came with one of the dishes. I was satisfied with that one taste because I could sample the flavor palate of that type of food for the first time in my life myself. I’m not as driven to experience new and different foods as Candy is though, so I’m content with a can of tuna, some mayo, salt and pepper, a slice of cheese, and 2 pieces of toast smashed down into it so they soften up.
Without mentioning it repeatedly, all my teeth were removed in mid September of 2014, and the dentist fucked me over and tried to make a mold for dentures while I still had teeth. It is March of 2015 and I am still fighting with insurance over those fucked up dentures.
That is only relevant in the fact that eating has changed so much for me in that time. I can almost experience Candy’s wonder and satisfaction with new foods merely by filming her eating them. Even more, watching the videos later in review and editing also seems to have the same effect.
I realize that mirror neurons are at work when people get off on porn, but I didn’t realize until I started creating feeder and feedee content that there also seems to be something at work in that arena as well. By watching Candy eat these things, and enjoy them with such immense appreciation, I feel like I am enjoying them as well. When she smiles big because she is about to tear into some huge feast that most people could not begin to eat, I can feel her excitement and anticipation as if I am her for that brief moment.
That’s probably crazy talk in and of itself, but after editing hundreds, or maybe thousands of videos, something has started to sink in over time. I always thought I was destined to create “fat porn” the way I like it, the way I wish there was more of back when I was going through puberty and ordering VHS tapes in the mail with lawn cutting money.
Now, I have created thousands of hours of feeder content. It wasn’t what I used to masturbate to, because I was always a fan of full on hardcore with visual penetration and hopefully a facial that the model doesn’t flinch or gag during. 🙂
I used to express frustration in the way that the very few SSBBWs participated in the creation of the content that I enjoyed watching for that purpose. I wondered why they would veer off into more fetish areas like squashing, eating, and being dominatrix types. I am surprised by my own vanilla tastes in porn considering how I am attracted to women who have a BMI that would be considered super morbidly obese.
I am not into immobile women either. I had that whole experience with Alexis in Florida creating fatfantasy.net and biggerandbetter.net. She was already on oxygen when I met her, and now Candy needs breathing treatments. It really frightens me that she allowed this to progress to such a level, when I would have been happy creating hardcore content. The truth is, she could never get as excited about making hardcore or even fetish content as she would be making feeder content.
Being as adaptive as I am, I would have sensed this eagerness to produce something rather than nothing, and I ran with it. I am a classic enabler for that reason. At least I am an unwilling enabler, so Candy knows that I will not encourage behavior that I know will hurt her over time. I’ve read a lot of zodiac stuff lately because of Twitter, and from what I’ve seen, Aquarius are very future oriented.
I had this conflict of interests going on, between what I like to see, and what Candy wanted to do. Candy would win, because she is already my volunteer subject, and I am grateful for her to do anything in front of the camera I operate. She is the only one who does appear in front of my camera, and I believe it is not out of circumstance, but by choice.
I have experimented with the idea of working with other people, or bringing in other people to work with Candy, but unfortunately, that whole experience usually came along with some kind of sexual contact with people other than her. For years she was cool with this type of situation, but back in 2008 I sensed that she was growing weary of it, and I stopped attempting to recruit new models.
Now, I realize that I still have the ability to recruit, and if anything, it’s like riding a bicycle. Once you have had that experience of identifying and talking to the right potential candidates, it is so much easier than most people could imagine. If i walked into a bar with a professional looking video camera after midnight, I would probably get flashed by a few women who just didn’t give a fuck. That doesn’t mean they would model while sober, but the intent is there, and sometimes, all it takes is the right person to pull it out of them.
Now i have gotten way off course, but I started out wanting to describe one event, and I was hopelessly compelled to jump into a much more vast sea of thought. I realize that is one of my writing weaknesses, and something I have to work on. When I start writing though, I don’t always know exactly what direction I am going to go in when I start.
Blogging is such a string of consciousness type of writing, I never even usually do much more editing than the first draft. I’m sure it shows, but like an episode of Saturday Night Live, there might be %20 of really relevant and interesting info, and about %80 of me trying to figure out what is interesting to me.
I scroll back up to the title, almost intending to change it, but “unexpected korean food” is catchy, and I like it. This whole stream of thought began there, and I had this whole route I wanted to take, describing this food in intimate detail, maybe using this page as a notepad for remembering the foreign names to all these dishes that I have never tasted, and still haven’t.
What a segue back to the point, huh? 🙂
Candy is able to enjoy a virtual trip around the world by just eating from each country that is widely available in the diverse food climate of Las Vegas. There is just about every type of food here that you can imagine, almost all available to order, and all catering to a diverse climate of tourists from all over the world. I saw someone say on the show “No Reservations” that people come half way around the world to gamble in Las Vegas, and when they get hungry, as far as they are from home, they want to have a taste of it while they are here.
Because there are people coming to Las Vegas from all over the world, you don’t just have “Chinese food”. You have authentic Chinese dishes that you never would have heard of at your local Chinese buffet. There are dishes from Japan, China, and Korea all in one place, and they are all prepared in such an authentic manner as to impress people who just ate those dishes in those respective countries.
In the case of the mysteriously ordered Korean and Japanese food, I want to run down some of the dishes that Candy was able to sample, because I have just realized after needing to take a break to help Candy out with some stuff, I am spending a tad too much time here.
Candy really enjoyed this, and she should have, because the small platter with 3 or 4 pieces of pork and a piece of radish was kind of pricey. I tried a teaspoon of the broth, and it was awesome, but there was no way I would be sampling meat from such a small selection available! The restaurant where Candy obtained this says that it is 5 hour braised pork belly. Sounds delicious!
The wider shot shows nearly all the meat that was in this tray, along with a close up view of what Candy is assuming was a piece of daikon radish. Everything smelled so great, and Candy was able to finish off everything on the evening it was ordered, so I can tell she really did like it. More information on that dish could be found here.
The next dish was Char Siu pork belly with steamed bun and baby spinach leaves with cucumber. Candy really liked this one too, although again, this was a relatively small portion for the cost. I don’t try to be cheap when it comes to the food that Candy really wants to try, but she is the one who is disappointed to see what looks like less food than one Chinese lunch special in 5 dishes worth $60.
Not being totally sure exactly how to eat it, Candy makes little sandwiches with the steamed buns and the pork, along with the little veggies too. That worked out pretty good for her, she was using a steamed bun to wipe up the pork belly sauce from the bottom of that tray.
Here is some more info on char siu pork belly preparation. This is where I realized that this dish is Chinese and Cantonese and not actually Korean, even though the place Candy ordered from had a Korean theme with Chinese, Cantonese, and Japanese dishes available.
Karaage is the name of a Japanese cooking technique where meat is deep fried in oil, just like french fries. One dish that Candy ordered was karaage chicken with Kewpie mayo and mixed salts. The technique is similar to tempura but obviously the batter is different, just like American fried chicken. Candy enjoyed this just as much as she would have fried chicken, but I’m sure that she wished there was more of it there! These little trays were pretty small as it is, the mayo and mixed salts nearly took up as much room as all the chicken. There may have been five or six pieces of chicken in there, and Candy loved it, but she can tell that the Japanese tendency to eat smaller portions doesn’t seem to work very well for her. Of course.
When I review all of the dishes, it appears that one was Japanese, another was Cantonese, and finally I get to a Korean dish. I was totally misusing the hash tag Korean Food Pics on Twitter, my bad. The small selection of galbi bbq short ribs was highly satisfying to Candy, but again, the portion size was a serious issue for her. For the cost of this dish, she could have had me pick up an entire side of ribs and slap them in the oven, but again, this was more than just an eating experience, it was a cultural experience. I had the opportunity to learn about this food just like she had the opportunity to eat it.
The ribs were cut thin, and served with white rice. Candy didn’t need to use any of the mixed salts, Japanese mayo, or hot mustard on these. They were quite tasty, and I noticed that she seemed to enjoy them to the degree that I had to stop everything and get more of a close up on her face as she ripped the meat from the bones with her teeth, eating with her cute fat little sausage fingers.
The next and final plate was a 3 way of kushi. I looked that up, and it’s a Japanese technique for cooking on skewers. In the case of these 3 samples of kushi, they were all prepared over binchotan charcoal and served with mixed salts as well in the little tubs. This is another dish that is actually Japanese inspired, if the name kushi was given to the preparation. Yet another item that I attached to Korean food photos on twitter mistakenly because Candy just said “Korean restaurant” without telling me it was an Asian variety restaurant with a Korean theme.
There was wagyu beef kushi, which Candy really liked, and when I research it, this name is also associated with kobe, which is another cut of meat that you are going to be paying a bit more for than you would for domestic beef. That’s why each one of these little entrees was around $8. Again, this was an accidental order, and at the time she did it, she says she wanted Mexican food. She still wants Mexican food, so that will probably be her next trip on her food around the world tour. She won’t stop there though, she already has plans to explore each region in South America in the process.
Back to the kushi though, there was also pork belly kushi, and you know she loved that. The final one was beef tongue kushi. Candy mentioned that the beef tongue was kind of unique, and while she ate the hell out of it, that’s something she might not be so eager to go for in the future. Pork belly is always a safe bet, because it’s basically bacon, and you know Candy loves some bacon. The wagyu beef seemed kind of wasted on her, because she would have been just as happy with much larger chunks of domestic beef on more than 3 little skewers.
When I ask Candy to recollect exactly what she thought of these, she said that the only one she really liked was the wagyu beef. She said the tongue was interesting, but she would not get it again. I may have said that but I took a break and don’t feel like reading back.
It was a surprise when it showed up, but once it did, and Candy got over the shock of having accidentally ordered it, she consumed every single bite, even if some of these dishes were not her favorite ever. This was an experience that was quite unique, because Candy often makes a plan for exactly what she wants to eat, and then goes about doing everything in her power to get it. On this occasion, I wonder if her order was accidentally on purpose, because she was just curious about Korean food, and she did go to the effort of creating this exact order, even if she was playing fantasy football with food choices.
Candy was able to finish off that entire feast, although it was barely half of what one big Chinese lunch plate would include, or a crap load of burgers and fries, or so many chicken nuggets that Candy would never want to eat one again in her life. That evening, after the last of the Japanese and Korean feast was finished, she still wanted something sweet. Peppermint ice cream did the trick, while I waited on a data transfer to make more room on her C: drive.
This was a really fun experience, even if most of that day was spent doing work on other things while waiting on a delivery to show up, so that Candy could accidentally order food to show up even later, just before trying to cook something she thought she really wanted. The day after this feast, Candy didn’t waste any time to whip up a BLT sandwhich along with a bowl of left over chili with beans over white rice.
Another blog post must come to an end, it seemed like it would never end, and I am the freaking one writing it! 🙂
I haven’t written here in a while, and as usual, I am procrastinating. Because I have been trying to be more creative, and less wasteful of the precious resource of time that I am lucky enough to be given here, I am trying to switch out bad habits for better ones. Instead of waiting until all of the overblown hype of the new year’s holiday, I realize that the best time to make small changes is now, not later.
I don’t have a lot of time, as usual, the combination of waiting errands and previous procrastination are finally catching up with me. The end of the year provides new deadlines, this year. I don’t believe I have adequate time or patience right now to get into the full extent of why I have been so frustrated with these changes.
It started with little things, like the new definition of obesity, and then the use of BMI to generate a blanket of obesity, or a flat rate of obesity. This added millions of new people to the category of obese, and news stories at the time reflected on how some people who are considered obese under the new system were actually very muscular. I think I probably see it coming, where those little things are going to add up to some much larger inconveniences later on down the line, when combined with the changes coming this very next year.
When I created obesiverse, there was a frustration with society’s blind acceptance of weight loss surgery as an alleged cure for obesity. I was growing more and more concerned with the way that people in general were starting to accept surgery as a standard course of action for anyone and everyone who was too fat to be pleasant to look at. Even those who rally for “size acceptance” would be forced to accept this new gold standard of personal responsibility. Forums, groups, and even social organizations would be forced through political correctness and involuntary linkage to warmly accept and even support anyone’s decision to endure this life and body changing process.
It is difficult for me to eloquently describe my personal feelings of disappointment as this process started to take shape. It started for me with Carnie Wilson, who marched with ‘naafa’ one year, and then opted to get weight loss surgery “on the internet” just a few years later. She would go on tour of the states, pitching this life changing miracle, even hitting my neck of the woods at one point. I would go to see her, and I would feel emotionally traumatized as I watched her on stage, mocking the people she marched with at the very event most of the people listening knew nothing about. She huffed and puffed in between shouting the words “fat and proud”, laughing out loud about “how ridiculous we all know that shit really is”.
Fast forward years into the future, and here comes facebook. The obesity obsessed sub culture that was once hidden away in forums with weird names was now thrust out into the mainstream, along with each and every other suddenly acceptable “sexual preference” under the sun. In the process, what used to be just one central obese social group splintered off into several. The irony in this, is that some of the legends of obese porn and erotica that once provided examples of super sized sex appeal looked different now.
They had become “thin”, or kind of close to it. They had fallen for the sub conscious sales pitch of seeing others finding their inner skinny chick and they themselves took the plunge. Because they were so much more active and consumed with something, anything to replace binge eating, they took their notoriety and invested it in creating obese social groups of their own.
I would try, very hard, to accept this inevitable trend and do my best to just ignore it. At first, I almost tried to jump into at least one ‘group’ because it just happened to be a group that meets in the city I happen to live in. I guess it was just “convenient”, and “why not?” Well, now I know why not. A part of me can’t get past the fact that there are people who don’t want to, but who will act as walking, talking billboards for a procedure that I still regard as experimental and cruel. While some people do have success with surgery, I don’t have to go over all of the past events of failure, like Carnie Wilson herself, who is currently involved in yet another publicity scheme to get her second weight loss surgery after post surgical refatting.
I don’t have to, but feel compelled to go into the 1-800-get-thin scandal, where the manufacturer of lap band cut off an entire group of physicians after the clinic they operated out of killed half a dozen people in the course of a few months. I don’t have to, but I would also want to point out that the manufacturer of lap band, allergan, has just successfully sold the entire obesity division to another surgical group, because the newness of the fad had worn off and the company wasn’t meeting projected profits… The whole 1-800-get-dead thing put a little kink in that “safer than last surgery” claim.
So, I realize that as I know all of this, and it seems to effect me on a level that makes it impossible for me to let myself get drunk and rant on facebook about it because I just get mean and belligerent. I will always see the surgery as unacceptable on a personal level, and I can’t just change that because it is politically correct to do so, or because the size acceptance sub culture warmly embraced it to a point where they include bariatric support within their networks. I can’t even participate in online groups or forums having anything to do with bbw events or obesity in general because if I get drunk enough, I am going to rant to such a degree that Candy is even more ashamed to have made the decision to come back than she probably already is deep down.
I will always see tragedy and irony in formerly fat size acceptance activists. I see it as ultimate surrender, with a touch of hypocrisy. I am supposed to be happy for someone that their life is better, that they are more healthy, but are they? Are they going to stick around for a decade or so, subconsciously encouraging countless other obese people to make this same decision as they aggressively sell their interpretation of “size acceptance”?
I remember way back in my late 20’s, when my initial exploration into the internet as an openly unashamed fat admirer, or sexual dimorphist, made finding plus to super sized women who wanted to “review sexual compatibility” much easier. First, it was easier to find larger women locally with the internet. I had the misfortune of not having cellphones or internet in my early 20’s, so by the time the internet came along, it was awesome that I would not have to spend hours as some kind of “fatty predator”, skulking around malls, supermarkets, shopping centers, flea markets, god forbid bars, and sometimes support groups… At some point I even placed one of those print ads in a weekly free paper. I wish there would have been digital photography back then! You would not believe just how bad the candidates were from the print ad…
The one thing I didn’t let myself get hooked by was obese specific social groups like naafa who held these huge giant fat parties way too far away to make them very appealing to me. I was lucky to live close to New Orleans, so I already had access to the occasional fatty tourist who wanted to get freaky on her vacation. I didn’t need to spend all kinds of cash on the traveling route to hunt fish in a barrel when just being under 40, thin, not too ugly, and open about the fat preference was already kind of like shooting fish in a barrel on a local level…
I always found it amusing, how many personal ads from women say “no booty calls”, but when they decide to put out because they are on vacation, it is basically the same thing. When a woman emailed me to say she was coming to my area and wanted to get together, I always had to wonder why she could not find a guy just like me wherever she was from. I realize now that distance actually adds to the allure for this type of woman, or guy. I always personally preferred having the option for future banging if I was compatible with someone I just risked my very life having sex with… 🙂 Yeah, growing up in the shadow of AIDS must have had some effect too… 🙂
In avoiding the sales pitches of a mutitude of bbw events, I did envy the occasional exposure to the “big players”, as an armature obesity photographer who always wanted to create sexually explicit obese specific imagery as my own personal protest against the fake, hypocritical, and two faced non sexual view of obese women. A fat friend with benefits once told me, “Fat chicks are like mopeds. Everybody wants to ride one but nobody wants to be seen on one.” I created content including myself in it to fight against this phenomenon on a personal level. I was just lucky I could make a few dollars in the process to sustain, encourage, and continue this work.
The formerly fat friend with benefits who said that memorable moped quote ended up having weight loss surgery too eventually. When Candy was gone, she came by once, after aggressively asking me about coming over to “get some”. Women seem to get really horny after losing some weight, and studies have attributed it to new found confidence. Wow… So they have to get fat and then lose weight to be easy, not just be fat and easy… Then, of course, they have to cling on to the fat admirers they know, because if the fat admirer was able to get it up when they were fat, the fat admirer should have no problem fucking a deflated balloon.
I find that personally insulting… I managed to perform, but it was not easy, because she no longer resembled who she was in the least. Of course she also had to be top heavy too. When she was bigger, at least her thighs filled out enough to match her breasts. When she lost weight, she lost the thighs, and kept the breasts… It figured… I have seen and attempted sexual intimacy with post surgicals, and it might not be “nice” for me to say it, but it is not pretty… I did not invite her to come back a second time.
Even attempting to find someone remotely like Candy would be trying, it would be hard. It would involve physical work, a lot of rejection, a lot of self discipline, and the ability to prioritize my responsibilities on a level that would sustain not just one person, but potentially two. I would have to turn down what I thought I wanted at times in order to remain true to the long term agenda. I had to pass up potential relationships with people who were charismatic and tempting, because they would never be able to help me create something that I felt somewhere in the back of my mind already existed.
Somewhere along the line before Candy ever left, I started to slip. I started to “give up”. I let myself enjoy alcohol way too much, and the more I enjoyed it, the more I neglected and lost sight of goals that I had set years before. As I saw the numbers of lap band recipients grow into the millions, I started to realize that cash will always win over the cure. As I saw what some would consider the gold standard of size acceptance warmly embrace, support, and encourage weight loss surgery themselves, “for health”, I realized that the world might not be crazy, it might be me.
A part of me would start to wonder why I would be encouraged to create anything, because even if i could create content that would never exist, someone else will eventually create something “close”, if not much better. The obese sub culture will continue to be convoluted into this mediocre social waiting room for the inevitable surgical decision, for those who can afford to make this horrible mistake.
Those who find success, and survive long enough, will continue to herd the cattle into these temporary staging areas before the slaughter. A part of me would grow so disappointed at the knowledge of what current events inevitably lead to. I deleted such a huge part of this blog where I repeated the phrase “shrink’em or kill’em” over and over because I thought it was manic and extreme. Now I am starting to think that our technically blessed society is trying to force a decision between being surgically altered in order to conform and comply, or remain subject to persecution and acceptable public ridicule because of one’s obsessive decision to remain obese. Of course the obese know that it is not a decision, and yet again, surgery is not a cure.
Candy doesn’t like to point it out, but she doesn’t feel like a real “part” of any obese specific “group”. Candy is uncomfortable identifying herself as a part of a group based strictly on physical appearance, as I find myself now, because one could compare this social phenomenon to white supremacists racists on a much darker level. I am surprised to realize, now that I am older, that obese specific social interaction is uncomfortable for me too, as a “fat admirer”, because I am under rules in that specific social situation that would not apply if I was operating out in “regular society” on my own.
I don’t rail against lap band because I would prefer that Candy stay super morbidly obese, I am against lap band because Candy and I both know that there exists a key to unlock her compulsive eating behavior that doesn’t involve the cruelty of stitching an adjustable, modified saline fake breast around her stomach. A dangerous, complication riddled procedure to physically restrict her from eating like some kind of electric dog collar to control behavior. Candy is better than that, I know it, and I had such high hopes that millions of fat people who have already done it would have been better than that too. If they could not resist the urge to artificially slim down, I continuously wonder, why they must adhere and cling on so desperately to the obese sub culture. Then again, that should be obvious. Money is at the root of all evil. 🙂
Because there is more quick cash in slicing fat people open than there is in providing obesity specific therapy, you may never see such a comprehensive form of obesity therapy introduced. That disgusts me on a level that seems to branch out into every aspect of weight loss surgery and obesity itself. This, in turn, seems to leech out into how I am somehow deeply disturbed when I see formerly fat “post surgicals” gathering up those fatties to have a great time at a big party.
Some twisted part of me compares it to mardi gras, where people party, pig out, get drunk, and go crazy right before this religious thing kicks in and they deny themselves something they really want. All the while, the master of ceremonies is a post surgical former fatty, not even consciously realizing herself that she is a sub conscious targeted ad, and this hypothetical party organizer is subjecting all of their loyal subjects to this “potential, new, thin, you”. Another irony is that the very people who can afford to run around to obese specific events are the very individuals who can afford to “self pay” for weight loss surgery.
Maybe it gives me some little hope, that I have seen a trend in the medical community to demand cash up front for weight loss surgery. They know the dangers involved, and while they claim in television interviews that they are getting ripped off by deadbeats, a part of me suspects that they sometimes don’t get paid by dead “people“… Demanding money up front has done two things. It has severely cut down on the number of obese people who will have access to the surgery in general, and it has also insured that there will always be a never ending supply of roly poly 20 somethings who will not be able to afford it, or just think it’s gross and weird…
It is scary for me to even imagine being 20 again in the age of the internet and a downward trend among my favorite type of fatty (trailer park) to have potentially fucked herself up with surgery. It’s still quite a task finding one who hasn’t pushed out a few puppies though. 🙂 If my choices are to finally give up alcohol completely or be single again, it looks like I will be smoking more weed. If it weren’t bad enough that I have endured the nightmare of trying to force myself to fuck a post surgical, I have also been taunted by finally seeing some formerly large breasts on a woman I knew from high school, after she had them surgically reduced… I never even got to see the “before”, and there she was, flashing me these nasty, weird looking things. That was horrible… Breast reduction on a fat chick just isn’t right either… I guess I am obsessed with all natural or something… Wrinkles, moles, zits, rashes, cottage cheese, flopping natural breasts, and all…
I can’t spend all day typing a bunch of seemingly random thoughts, but it has been more fun than I thought. The decision to stop drinking for a while, maybe permanently, is one of those little things that I can do to potentially bring about positive change in my future. It is so tragic and ironic to me that fixing obesity is not so different, yet it is the only compulsive behavior that someone somewhere figured out how to cash in on with surgery.
It should be no big shock or surprise that as a society, we are constantly trained to reject and condemn obesity. For a few years there, the media seemed to literally “binge” on obesity stories. All the while, the news stories about obesity were punctuated by commercials for diet pills, diet snacks, diet systems, and yes, what a surprise, maybe even a weight loss surgery commercial or two… We are not just being trained to hate fat people, we are being sold on the idea of hating fat people because there is just so much fucking cash to make on convincing them to hate themselves.
Sometimes someone in media will utter the phrase that obesity is the last safe prejudice, as some super morbidly obese person is being kicked off a plane with no alternatives given, or denied a job and told right to their face they are just too fat. Doctors get to play psychic, telling people they are going to die because they are deathfat, the media has something to talk about in between kids shooting up schools, and allergan walks away with a fat stack of cash after pushing all those chicken bones off their plate and dumping the “obesity division” after months of pushing it, haggling, and reducing the sale price… Allergan invented lap band, and like some kind of street level drug dealer, they had to cut off 1 800 get thin because they were killing people.
When I met Candy, she had issues with her body that were so extreme she told me she would look in the mirror and fantasize about cutting her huge belly off. Maybe I have helped her, at least, to reach some self image threshold where she not only accepts her body no matter what it looks like, but she resents being expected to socialize with people based on her fat, instead of her “as a person”. Before, Candy was drawn into the whole bbw thing out of curiosity, at a point when she could not fully accept that aspect of herself. Now, there is very little interest for her to base her socialization upon something that used to make her uncomfortable but doesn’t any longer. Candy would rather demand the respect of peers among a group of people who could appreciate who she is, not what the scale says.
There are ways in which she feels that the “size acceptance community” is about as accepting as a television fat show trainer who encourages an obese person to lose weight and then shakes their head in disgust off cam and behind the “co-star’s” back at how they could have let themselves go to that degree to begin with. There are ways in which Candy has felt “too big for size acceptance”, because she herself knows how she has felt internally when she was smaller and she interacted with a woman of her current size.
This reminds me of the way I developed a strategy for seducing a super sized woman where I worked hard not to compliment any physical aspect of her look that was fat, or fat related. Compliment the eyes, the hair, the smile, the expressions she makes, her personality, her laugh, anything but how big, fat, huge, and fucking amazing her ginormous ass and roly poly thighs are…
Candy has reminded me how effective it was to have complimented her eyes when seeing a photo of her. I was lucky that she was so aggressive at the time, because very mild, complimentary assurance had her spilling exactly what her body looked like to me on the phone before I ever got to meet her in person or see a full length photo of her.
If I were to have immediately objectified her, based on physical traits that she was already uncomfortable with, that would have made her uncomfortable instead of being “assuring” or comforting. I see it all the time, guys trying to lay it on so thick with a big woman thinking it will impress or lure, when it actually has the opposite effect.
This, in turn, helps me to realize yet another layer of cheese over this shit sandwich of size acceptance that I get so passionate about while nearly black out drunk that I have literally embarrassed myself on facebook. If I had to restrain myself from objectifying someone as aggressive as Candy to help insure I would meet and eventually seduce her, why would people assume that obese specific social groups would be appealing to someone like me, and in turn, someone like Candy? I remember, a long time ago, someone asked me why I wasn’t itching to get all up in the bbw stuff when it was literally less than 3 miles away from where I was at the time. Back then, all I could tell them was that I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something about it just bugged me, and I was not drawn in like one would expect someone of my intensity to be drawn…
From the very beginning of my relationship with Candy, both of us lurked and lingered around the periphery of all things fat, because of this “linkage” thing that I brought up earlier. Now I can use a fancier analogy like quantum entanglement to describe how inevitable it is that both of us would be connected in some minor way to almost everything and everyone involved in the business of “obesity”.
I could have gone two ways with that, obviously. If I was capable of even faking a sociopath behavior, I would have fit right in with all of it. I would have been right up in the middle of it, anxious and eager to “do something” to prove to the world that the phrase “fat and ugly” is subjective, and not factual or generally applicable in this reality, at least while I exist.
Developments in the world of obesity, or the obesiverse, if you will, brought about a kind of weakness. The empathy that I felt for decades while I watched this one and that one die after this or that surgery started to turn into something else. In some kind of emotional self defense against feeling for those who didn’t know any better, or those who were taken advantage of, I let myself get a little darker, more morbid, and more intolerant to each and every attempt to revise yet another disgusting surgery and make it look “safer this time”.
The disgust with liberal politics and the uneven and unfair distribution of personal responsibility started to disturb me even further, because liberal and conservative slanted media outlets all sell weight loss surgery of some kind. The same news channel that blames some mysterious and alleged “pimp” for every prostitute’s drug habit will sell weight loss surgery and shrug off our society’s failure to teach people how to eat as a personal failure and a lack of respect for all of society. How dare you stay fat? You are fucking it up for everybody!
While a surgically thin formerly fat person can round up the herd and involuntarily show off how awesome it is not to be fat anymore, I remain astounded not only by the irony, but by what appears to be a total and complete acceptance of this phenomenon as if it doesn’t exist. The shrunken elephant in the room, or at the party.
Maybe creating super morbidly obese graphic pornography was my only and most potentially extreme statement against something I noticed a long time ago, and something that has proliferated much more now. I came up with the concept “the fatty exemption” based on how everything is just a little “different” in the obese realm, or the obesiverse.
For example, when I was younger, and I was scouring every source of 80’s porn I could find, on VHS, I obviously noticed a huge lack of this type of content in existence. There was some, but it was just a little “different”. For example, the obese specific content, when actually available at larger “mega porn outlets”, was in the “unusual” or “fetish” section. It took nearly a decade, almost before the death of VHS, before “FAT” had it’s own section in a big porn store!
Before fat got it’s own section, it was tossed in with “old” stuff, or “granny” if you will, and some other stuff, even “little person” porn… Yeah… Fuck all that dumb shit… Midget porn. I may not have known midget porn even existed if it hadn’t been thrown in with the fat stuff in the weird section… Wow porn has changed. Some of the 80’s to 90’s fat related porn would have one fat woman segment, and then an old segment, and then maybe a midget segment. I remember something from the early 90’s that had an old person and midget with the fat chick. They were fucking it all up all kinds of ways. Had I been old enough at that time and had access to the equipment, I would have produced what I produce now, back then.
That almost doesn’t make sense, but it does to me, so it stands. 🙂
When the internet thing really kicked off, porn sites came into existence as if they had always been there. Of course, back in 1998 when I got the idea to start a fat site, there were only a handful, and of course, they were “different”.
While I would see an explosion of digital porn content come into existence, I noticed that the bbw and ssbbw content was still kind of lagging. It seemed that a lot of it was “eating”, or huge women just sitting on guys, or a really big chick just kind of “swaying”, bending, standing, maybe if you are lucky, WALKING? Yeah, the fat stuff was different. There was some hardcore stuff, but it was rare. There were only a handful of super sized women doing the hardcore explicit stuff, so crazy me went out and discovered “lexi”… Then there was Nat, then there was Candy.
One thing did make it extraordinarily difficult and frustrating at times for me to find even 3 ssbbws over the last 15 years willing to “go there”. I was tempted by probably over a dozen awesome ssbbws who thought they could dip their toes in and then pull out suddenly and I would just forget all about that porn thing because they were so awesome… That would not happen. I probably missed out on even meeting at least a dozen or more notorious ssbbws because even if they had a few risque photos floating around out there, I could not be tempted by them to give up what a part of me must have genuinely needed to do, and needed to create.
Even now, there is still some kind of super nova of super morbidly obese female content being created and distributed out there. Most of it though, is still a little different, the fatty exemption in full effect.
I may have resented this for the longest time, because as a guy with surprisingly vanilla sexual appetites, the fixation on super morbidly obese females is probably the most “perverse” thing about my sexuality. I don’t need a super massive woman for some kind of twisted secret ritual, I just want to slide my erect penis into her well lubricated vagina, and if possible, catch it on cam… The size difference has no practical usefulness other than it’s mere existence as visual and additional physical stimulus. My hardcore work is like a graphic, twisted metaphor for each and every time some past acquaintance asked me “how do you get it in?” as some kind of joke. I guess the joke is on them. 🙂
I shouldn’t get so dark, but since I arrived at this point, and named this post before fully comprehending where I would decide to go, I might as well point out something relevant. The fatty exemption in the realm of plus and super size porn would not have been so glaringly obvious if I had been watching “regular” porn at all. In fact, I only recently realized the vastness of this difference when Candy pointed out her favorite types of porn. As I would occasionally see photo examples of what she likes on her tumblr, I realized something. The skinny porn chicks are not only tripping over each other to do porn, but they appear to be enjoying it so much more convincingly.
For example, I am sure there are a couple of skinny chicks who are popular in porn who have strict agreements about how and where the money shot goes down, but I have noticed that out of the many plus and relatively few super sized women who engage in hardcore porn, there are very few who ssbbws who actually appear to really sincerely be enjoying it. The biggest tell is in the reactions I have seen on the faces of some of the most popular bbw and ssbbw hardcore actresses during the typical money shot.
A few of them have it down, but it shocks me how badly a majority of the most popular ones handle that climactic event. I think I have used the metaphor “being sprayed with nuclear waste” when describing it to Candy. This is yet another example of the fatty exemption. Everything is different, it has to be, because super sized chicks are different, and from what I can perceive, the guys who are into super sized chicks exclusively are also “different”. I can only assume this by the way we are treated differently, even by the women who dare to interact with those of us afflicted with this preference for quick cash, or attention without obligation, or something.
It was really hard to go back out there into the dating world again after being with one person for so long, and under the circumstances, I felt as if I was not going to have someone remotely close to Candy’s abilities drop into my lap, ever. I knew that being my age, I would get lumped in with the old guys, and I would struggle in holding out for a woman who was even mildly compatible, acceptably charismatic, openly agreeable, digitally willing, and barely big enough for me to be interested enough to even work at any of it anymore.
I would be presented with available imperfection and unavailable potential perfection. I would experience what it was like, yet again, to be pursued for someone else’s agenda while being brainwashed into forgetting my own. I would be locked into another tug of war over individual power dynamics while struggling to determine if she was worth the time or effort. I managed to get a phone number on a super massive neighbor that I had seen here and there, only to meet up with her and watch myself, as if from the outside, scare the living shit out of her as I described exactly what it was about her impossibly fat body that drew me involuntarily to her.
I would get involved in a long distance relationship, then sabotage it for the benefit of “shopping local”. I would dive so deep into the use of alcohol that it would become an unexpected minor temptation once I decided it was holding me back and I actually want to quit using it entirely. I would know, with each waking moment, even as I attempted to get my life back together and move on, that without her, I never really would. Even if I somehow scraped up enough hope to imagine that I could do it all over again, using my previous accomplishments as inspiration, a part of me just wanted to give up because now I was older. It was one thing to endure such a tedious, uniquely selective process while I was in my 30’s. Once I entered the 40’s, it was a whole other world.
All strategy would have to be adjusted, because nearly all the available older ssbbws were going to be attached to kids, and while one would hope that a late 40’s or early 50’s woman would be free of such inconvenience, I was surprised in my few months of singleness to find at least one woman in her 50’s with a pre-teen somehow. Another mid 40’s woman had the “grown” kid, but still living with her. I became even more depressed at the phenomenon where being over 40 without debt and no attached children made me the perfect candidate to help raise someone else’s kids. Of course the two I mention hadn’t even hustled child support. Of course they hadn’t, they wouldn’t be talking to me. 🙂
Man, one of them had to be literally the most boring woman I have ever talked to in my entire life. She pointed out that she didn’t want to just mess around “anymore”, and she enjoyed sex, but only if it was part of a relationship. This was in the first 5 minutes talking. By that time, I already knew that I wasn’t really interested and she would be the one having to work to get me to fuck her. If that wasn’t enough, the very first woman that set up a meeting talked me into going to a bar, meeting her with “her friends”. Those are both exactly the two rules I have against meeting women out of repeated experience. Bars suck, women who always meet with friends are just, pussies. There is no other way I can describe it. I know it’s supposed to be “safe” and all, but hey, damn those bitches that actually set up traditional “dates” where a woman meets a man out in fucking public on her own, with her big girl pants on.
The one woman accomplished making me break two tried and trusted rules, and then she proceeds to stand me up. No, she didn’t say to be somewhere and just not show up. She begged and pleaded for me to go where she was going to be that night anyway, with or without me. Then she called to make sure I was on my way. When I get to the place, i wait an hour and call. No answer. I knew at that moment. I hung out, but it sucked.
To top it all off, this woman had lost a hand in an accident, and I didn’t really care, even though she had to point it out to me on the phone after I saw it in the photos… She was from “match dot com”. lol I never tried to write to her after she pulled that shit, but two days later she wrote an email to apologize, and I was drunk so I unleashed at least a half dozen of the meanest missing hand jokes I could come up with, cursed her out, and told her never to contact me again. She made be break 2 of my top rules, but standing me up without a damn good excuse just happens to be at the very top… Crossed off, cursed out, hopefully left crying… 🙂
There was a time I cursed this preference, to the point of fantasizing about being able to change it. I hated the fact that I was so limited by it. I hated the fact that odds and probability was working so hard against me, while people mistakenly assumed it should be so easy. The only ssbbw I was going to find as a divorced 40 something year old in a shitty apartment making just enough money on purpose with a fat porn agenda was going to be even more desperate than I was at the time.
I dated and seduced a hardcore christian, and a part of me wonders if I did it just to see if I could, with nothing else to do but survive and giving up on ever finding the perfect super fat porno chick, I would compromise, and date a christian chick with skinny thighs, no butt, giant breasts, who was under 250lbs. At the same time, I still held out some kind of sad, pathetic hope of finding “the next ssbbw hardcore model” when I came across a married chick who gave up the ID and signed a release, but she was freaking married, with a kid, and a small kid at that. She had no problem with modeling, but she was pathologically slutty, to the point where I knew there was something going on that I would never figure out.
That super size woman who modeled for me at that time was unavailable, even if she made herself totally available for modeling. Even if she had been available, I can’t imagine it could have lasted very long, because as usual, such an amazing body came with a confusing and somewhat vacant personality. Ironically, that is something not so different in the super morbidly obese world. There is such a thing as an “awesome body type”, and by chance, they seem to most often be just as fucked up as the skinny awesome body type counterpart.
Just as I was giving up hope, I somehow managed to convince Candy to come back, even when I least expected it. Even though I have gotten her to come back, she is never going to be quite the same as before she left, and by the same token, even if she is the only person in my mind who I believe that I want, I am not quite the same after my attempts to reject my super size preference. I don’t have the pro obesity bias that I once had. I don’t have the same degree of sympathy or empathy towards the root causes of size acceptance, like getting offended by fat jokes or the regularly occurring stereotypes in media that represent obesity.
I know that I have not resolved some issues, because there would not be a 2 year gap in the updates to two of my websites since a very specific time period if I had. A part of me still resents the preference, but not because I lost Candy, or how difficult it would be to ever find someone so perfectly matched to me and able to participate in my work at the same time. I resent it because the higher part of myself knows that this is all unsustainable. The website model is unsustainable, Candy’s mere size is unsustainable, and her behavior is unsustainable.
Because I am a caregiver, I am given the unique perspective of seeing physical limitations that the outside world would not see or even imagine. Even under those circumstances, a part of me insists on obsessively doing some type of hardcore content, even if it is not as frequent as me or Candy would prefer, if just to prove a point. As difficult as it is to be that fat, and as difficult as one could imagine it would be to capture it, I still do so, and will continue to do so. In my world, there is no fatty exemption. In my world, when you choose to do something, you should do it to the extreme. In my reality, super morbid obesity is not a categorization that provides special privilege to make crappy or just weird content that creates the assumption that all sexual dimorphists get off on seeing fat with no sexual context.
If skinny chicks can do it, super morbidly obese chicks can too. I know it should go without asking, why obese porn seems kind of cheesy and lame compared to skinny porn. I know my stuff is amateur, and cheesy, and I myself enjoy creating alternative content like eating if she is going to freaking do it anyway, but I could never have limited myself to only that. I would never have been satisfied with walk, turn, stairs, sit, end clip. I don’t even get off on lesbian content because there is no penis to base mirror neuron fantasy penetration on. 🙂
I spent my life sacrificing potential encounters with women who I knew could never really “give me what I wanted” in favor of finding just one who could, or would, who actually kicks ass doing it. While I am grateful that I have somehow magically re-created this partnership, I am amazed that my obsession with occasional intoxication allowed me to put myself in a position of slowly, gradually losing it all over again. I haven’t written in a while, and there are probably errors, mistakes, grammar issues, and an inability to remain on one train of thought. At the same time, I feel as if everything I have been able to write came from notes that I was taking while I was so drunk I almost can’t remember them.
The fatty exemption probably has a much deeper meaning than even those that I compulsively typed out in this post. The fatty exemption applies to me too, in ways that I have simply run out of steam before exploring.
I will point out, after I was ready to stop writing already, that during one of my drunk rants against weight loss surgery on facebook, someone attempted to defend weight loss surgery as a “last resort”. I was already long logged off, and Candy was reading what I was ranting about, and she told me that someone responded with that incredibly lame argument. I want to respond here, even though I don’t know what was said about it, because while I was sober I logged into facebook and deleted a bunch of shit without really looking at it all because each introductory comment was just so fucking drunkenly offensive. By making the last resort for health argument in defending weight loss surgery or the decision to have it, one is assuming that weight loss surgery is the “cure for obesity”. It is not. If it were, there would not be any fat people left, because our society is so obsessed with eliminating it that they would probably subsidize the surgery for anyone over a specific BMI.
Weight loss surgery is not a cure for obesity. It is not a cure for anything. It is the only body modification in existence to treat an addiction. The fatty exemption applies in all sorts of ways. Fat is the last safe prejudice, because it is so profitable to berate and insult people into getting cut on. If weight loss surgery is a last resort to save someone’s life, I have to ask why that 10 or 20 thousand could not be spent on intense addiction therapy, much like ‘rehab’ but for fat.
I don’t really have to ask though, because I know the answer. Therapy of obese people could never be as profitable as surgery, because you have to institutionalize them, and you have to hire people to take care of them. Hiring people to take care of institutionalized morbidly obese people can be tricky for a number of reasons. The increased risk of injury, the eww factor, potential liabilities, and having to be careful not to hire perverts like myself to bathe massively fat women and get paid, are just a few concerns.
The truth is, in this capitalist, commercial society, is to keep producing images of what everybody should look like, then insult and ridicule people who don’t meet that standard so they spend cash on a dangerous surgery that they themselves have no real way of knowing the dangers or feelings involved until they are stuck with it.
I would argue that there is no such thing as weight loss surgery as a “last resort”, unless that last resort is to stop one from expanding their body to the point where losing weight will make them look like more of a freak than just staying fat. So, my point is that all weight loss surgery is elective and cosmetic. There is no health benefit from risking one’s health to improve one’s health. All surgery carries the risk of potential death, there is a story in the media right now about a child who died after having tonsils out.
The only reasonable “last resort” for a super morbidly obese person who is actually in danger of dying instead of just being freaked out because some allegedly psychic doctor said they were going to die, would be fat rehab. Fat rehab is just a big huge pain in the ass though, apparently and literally…
The truth is, just like addiction, obesity can never be ‘cured’, and the general public has been sold on this idea that surgery is a cure for it. Because it got so popular before a couple dozen people died, the general public assumes it is “safe and effective” because that’s what the commercials on television say. We all know that most people are ignorant sheep who believe everything they hear on television. If they are told over and over the weight loss surgery is a cure, they take it for granted, without having done the research that I have to know about all of the lives that have come to a premature end as a result of this “last resort” for their health…
It has been quite a while… Even now, I want to do something else, so maybe for once, I can keep it short and sweet…
I have been drifting off into never land with all my wild thoughts and potentially irrational assumptions for a long time. I have decided that I may have to return to this activity, even if a part of me wonders what it is all about after I have created hundreds of posts that are tens of thousands of words long, and then delete all of it and start over again…
A part of ‘this place’ is going to be about ‘me’, and another part of it is going to be some serious shit that I seem to come up with involuntarily and almost compulsively bombard Candy with to the point where she literally has a head ache… I need to put it here, and stop giving Candy migraines… And, stop bugging people on the face book… 🙂
I have had a ‘bug up my ass’ for a very long time about the ‘weight loss surgery’. I have read extensively, comprehended partially, and asserted my opinions rather randomly, for a long, long time now… None of it seemed to really make much sense probably, and I was too lazy to even go back and re read any of it myself. I am sure I would find some of it brilliant, some of it stupid, and some of it just drunk rambling nonsense… None of that matters now, because it is gone… All of it… Maybe a part of me thought it was such shit that I had to start over. I believe a prior post addressed the possibility that I created it all just to delete it years later and confuse the fuck out of anyone who even noticed any of it was going on at all…
I have googled the term “forced addiction transfer”, and I welcome you to do the same. It is ironic, at least to me, that as I google this term, I am ‘obesity biased’ because of my prior experience and rather confusing sexual fixation on super morbidly obese human females. It should have come as no surprise that as I attempt some feeble research on the seemingly random string of words, I find several references to weight loss surgery.
I thought for a second I might be re-inventing the wheel, and I would have found some result, somewhere in that very first page, where those words were strung together, and google would even provide a convenient bold type on those words and a short paragraph before and after them. As it turns out, that wasn’t the case. Maybe if I dug just a little deeper before bragging about my discovery on face book, I could have found other connections to this phenomenon that have been very well documented and carefully considered in some random ‘fat blog’ somewhere on the internets…
I saw ‘junk food science’ come up, of course, a professionally written, beautiful in all of it’s effort and eloquent in the writer’s style and thorough investigation. Of course that writer would dive into this topic, because they are such a logical match of psychological phenomenon. My own issues with self discipline, self control, addiction, and compulsive behavior would help me to understand more about what the words “addiction transfer” actually mean, from a very real perspective of experience and pain.
I may have written about and deleted previously issues that I developed when I became worried about the legal liability of using one drug and subsequently switched over to a more legally acceptable one. This would have pleased ‘society’, but unfortunately, the woman that I consciously or sub-consciously choose to love would not be able to handle this change on a deep emotional level. Her prior experience with users of this legally accepted alternative caused her great emotional distress, up to and maybe beyond what one would call “PTSD”. What was worse than her having this condition was her own lack of understanding of it. If she could not get to the bottom of what was making her such a bitch, all I could do was evolve, adapt, and attempt to compromise.
There could be no compromise between two people who both refused to give up their ‘drug of choice’ just because it was emotionally inconvenient for both of them… This caused much greater pain and tragedy for both parties, and I acted out in ways that I have not experienced for over a decade when I felt someone ripped me off and stole my money, my credit, and my very “artwork” for a year’s time. Of course, later I would realize that all of that mess was my own fault because of my bad decisions and young dumb judgement… I paid, I learned, I matured, I moved on.
One day while watching Dr. Phil of all people (it’s almost painful to even type it), I saw him say that you can’t break a bad habit, you can only replace it with a constructive activity. The way I interpreted that was, the ability to switch over from one bad compulsion to another bad compulsion is “addiction transfer”. Switching over from one negative compulsion to a “good” one is thought to be “breaking a bad habit”. It is painfully, blatantly obvious that in order to really solve all those issues entirely would be to figure out exactly what about the human mind causes some people to be more compulsive than others, and then, how do we specifically address compulsive behavior and “addiction” without being clouded by greed and a desire to mold the media’s message in a way that we create a “rehab society”. Rehab from sex addiction, rehab from drugs, rehab from behaving badly.
It troubles me to know, deep down, that this rehab society has turned to the “dark side” where obesity and the compulsion of over eating is involved. I realize that there is so much more money to be made so much faster by cutting someone open rather than digging into their mind. It is also painfully obvious to me that the total lack of interest in digging into the ‘obese mind’ is due to the fast cash to be made by desperate people who are willing to have perfectly healthy organs cut out and altered in order to control behavior.
In my personal experience, as I sit and type this, I am stopping myself from wasting time entirely by playing a long, complex, and involved video game. When I decide to sit in that game, I am stopping myself from bombarding some useless and pointless face book page with random thoughts. When I am particularly distressed, this behavior can even begin to creep onto others with emails and little posts on this or that “thread” of conversation that I am not really invited to join. In doing all of that, I would also inadvertently be avoiding the thought of drinking alcohol, because I seem to really enjoy getting intoxicated on alcohol just past the point where my partner is comfortable. The ‘compulsive’ aspect of my behavior is simply that I won’t restrict myself from it’s use entirely, but when I do allow myself to have it, I know there is a certain point within a certain level of intoxication where I will want to consume more than I set out to before I started drinking to begin with.
Candy would argue this makes me “alcoholic”, and I could agree that this is a problem. At this same time, I am not physically dependent on alcohol because of several reasons. It is not my “drug of choice” to begin with. It is a drug that I turned to in an effort to use “addiction transfer” in a positive way to reduce the legal liability of using my real drug of choice, which is a plant, which is a true tragedy in and of itself considering that it is not physically addictive. I do not have a “craving” for alcohol when I do not have it in my possession, but when I do get it, I tend to get enough so that I will have two “doses”. The internal test once I have it is if I can stop myself when under it’s influence from digging into that second day’s worth, eliminating the second day’s total potential effect, and therefore, taking the second potential day of it’s use away from myself in the process of violating a rule I made for myself while sober.
I realize that this is very similar to the way that Candy gets chinese take out. She would typically buy enough to have two day’s worth. The problem is, she would actually consider having two huge servings on the first day, and maybe just a little left over for a second day. Candy can’t get the same “rush” on a subsequent day because she will always consume more than half on the first day. While she makes the accusatory assumption that I am just “an alcoholic”, she is engaging in the very same behavior, and over time, this behavior would contribute to her potential immobility, and shortened mortality.
When considering “addiction transfer”, and my own ability to guide my compulsive behaviors into activities that could be more constructive, positive, and beneficial for my own future, I have to consider that my addiction transfer “technique” is voluntary. When I consider just how many things I have turned to in order to satisfy some compulsive behavior to do something “too much”, I realize that there is no one substance or activity that could “be enough” to ever really solve the appetite of the compulsive mind. The simple realization of this helps me to guide that energy towards areas of my life that need improvement, and obviously self discovery.
In a way, I realize that my recent use of the phrase “automatic addiction transfer” seemed to switch on a light, and give me ideas about how “rehab tech” has remained the same forever without having to evolve for the changing marketplace of “brand new addictions” coming along left and right. Abstinence is the only conclusion by a rehab society in a phase of our history where obesity is the new “moral panic” for whatever reason, and the media creates more and more obesity hysteria as they cash in on advertising products meant to “help”. All the while they ignore one inconvenient pathological factor to obesity, ad 36. The “fat virus” that you never hear about on the news as you hear people rant about obesity on a daily or weekly basis. That is another post entirely, but it kind of fits in, as I am already tempted to wrap this up, but realize it is way too in depth to cover “right now”.
I am lucky that I was able to fight any form of compulsive eating behavior from an early age. I was “chubby” when I was a kid, but I started working from the month that I turned old enough to work, and that amount of activity and a few small changes helped me to reach what would be considered an “average” weight. There were several motivating factors for this, the very first would be “girls”. Because I realized at an early age I was attracted to women who are “larger” to say the least, I felt that I should make myself as physically appealing as possible in order to increase my probability of successfully meeting and of course fucking some really big fat chicks in my life.
Until I reached a certain emotional plateau, I didn’t realize that my super fat sexual conquests were actually compulsive behavior as well. Even through three marriages, I never met someone that I could really place a deep emotional attachment on until I was in my 30’s. Once that emotional attachment took place, I could voluntarily become monogamous even though I had the option to remain in an “open relationship” like some old creepy “swingers”.
I just didn’t want it anymore. I didn’t enjoy searching for, flirting with, seducing, fucking, and filming other women anymore. Once there was a real emotional connection to someone I had never felt, everything changed. I would still be afflicted with other compulsive behaviors, but screwing any big giant fat woman who let me would no longer be one of them. I believe that was a form of “automatic addiction transfer”, because I went from one compulsion to fuck all kinds of fat women and film it all to put on my website, to a much darker, much more difficult, and much more emotionally tedious and impossible task of really pleasing just one woman.
When I came up with the idea of “Forced Addiction Transfer”, or FAT, it was out of frustration and the great sense of pain I feel when I realize that people who modify their otherwise healthy, working, cancer free internal organs in order to change just one compulsive behavior are being used as test subjects in order to embrace forced addiction transfer as a viable way of extracting money from obese people. Notice I did not say “as a viable way of curing obesity”, because the cure for all obesity is in the head, not in the gut. People who dig in our heads are very expensive though, and they take a long, long time. Bariatric surgery is so much cheaper in the long run, yet it obviously has greater profit potential up front. Surgery is to make money, not to cure obesity.
Surgery creates what I believe is an inhumane psychological condition of forced addition transfer, or FAT. This is why it is so well documented that many post surgicals become alcoholics, or drug users. Without addressing the underlying causes of compulsive behavior, it appears to me, an uneducated “sexual dimorphist”, that initiating forced addiction transfer through any surgery that restricts natural ability to “eat” is simply piling on. This creates an even more intense need to fulfill the compulsive behavior through another avenue. The choice will probably be made early, in the first few weeks of adapting to having a compulsive behavior that cannot be fulfilled without greater pain, misery, suffering, complications, and maybe even death.
This is why in my opinion, any surgery to address compulsive behavior is going to have horrible long term effects. These effects will not simply be felt by the ones who have had the surgery alone. The singular decision to have surgery will effect everyone connected to the individual, because all acquaintances will be forced to adapt along with the individual to this cruel experimental rehab technique. We live in a rehab society that survives through it’s consistent message of abstinence. By selling people surgery as a “cure”, we are telling them that they are beyond all hope of psychological help in addressing their underlying compulsive behaviors. Because they are both the perpetrator and the victim, they must be punished, even if it means executing the cruelest possible punishment on one’s self.
If the entire rehab model works on abstinence, it is particularly cruel from my perspective to encourage people to become “surgical anorexics”. While I watch media, I pay particular attention to those who attempt to discourage anorexia with a straight face. If we live in an abstinence based rehab model society, then we must encourage the super morbidly obese to become anorexic to “fix them”, even if it means forcing them to become anorexic through surgery. I don’t know about “most people”, but I think all of this is sick. I have to hope that my own obesity bias doesn’t contribute to a feeling that I was more right than I ever wanted to be when I saw this strategy as “shrink’em or kill’em”.
I have been typing the words “obesity conspiracy” a few times on face book here and there as well. While that is a topic that could not possibly be covered in just one post, I would like to associate this one issue with that larger “system”. While it is easy to dismiss anyone who hypothesizes the existence of any alleged conspiracy as a complete nut bag, there is so much data to suggest that “something is going on behind the scenes”, that it is almost impossible to ignore. It goes a lot deeper than medical device manufacturers that made a whole lot of quick cash and now want to sell the obesity division because the profits are down after this “low mortality rate” surgery started killing people one after another in Los Angeles a few years back. I’m sure they would not mind dumping the division before all the class action suits come in as well. After a few more years passes, they will.
Forced Addiction Transfer theory is very real, and it started from the minute some surgeon figured out that he could cut out some guts, make some cash, and the “patient” or “test subject” would lose weight. For as long as this type of human vivisection has existed, studies to figure out what happens up to five years after having surgery were only just recently released. The results were not quite as “cure” as the medical community wanted, and that is why you have seen the effort to sell surgery toned down considerably. It still exists, but now it is limited to those who can “pay up front” and those who are not paying at all. The ones who are not paying at all have much higher rates of complications and death, because this is just the excuse a doctor needs to eliminate one more social security recipient. Sad, crazy sounding, and hopefully for all of us, Not true at all…
i thought it would be appropriate to take a moment, in the exact moment when ‘the buzz’ hit. just 2 beers would be enough for that tiny, starter buzz on alcohol. oh, it’s sweet. you want to sit back and smile for a second, just taking in the realization that you are lucky enough to be drinking this substance, feeling its effects, and not being fucked with by anything or anyone at any moment.
of course, there is the possibility that Candy might want something, but the probability is low currently because of a recently delivered cup full of green colored lemon lime flavored Kool aid, plus the second half of a huge plate of Panda Express take out that was created earlier today.
i wanted to drunk blog a sec. yeah. fucking yeah! no, not really. it’s not just the beer, the ice beer at %5.9 alcohol, it’s also the ‘spice’. i picked up a variety from a smoke shop that is on Swenson right around the corner. the place across the street has a few varieties, but this one seems to have some kick to it. i wish i knew the exact chemical formulation of each variety that i am so willing to be a test subject for.
Candy should be my ‘drug’. She is, actually. On any given moment, if anything I perceive is ‘wrong’ where to happen, just touching her would immediately bring me to a place where i am solid, resolved, and i can handle any kind of shit i have to in the given moment. i can think of myself as lucky to be granted with that rare opportunity. i get to be around this wonderful person almost all the time. i take a moment, frequently, and remember how lucky i am, for so many reasons.
when i think back to the way i was about 15 years ago, i would say that i was pussy whipped and a virtual slave. now, i have to recognize that because of the unique combination of chemicals released in my human brain while i am around her, most of the time, i can say, as the same ‘person’, over a decade later, that i am lucky and proud to be in the position of being a slave to the most amazing person that i have had the good fortune to have met and been given the opportunity to have and lose so many times in this fleeting thing we call a life bound by the thing we perceive as reality.
run on sentences, i know. maybe i’ll edit later.
i’m laying it on, maybe i should hit ‘the diph’. whoa. diphenhydramine. why give me hydroxyzine when there is already diph? i’m probably spelling it wrong, but the spell check messes up prozac.
i got all juiced up, let myself log in here, and started freaking Depeche Mode Black Celebration entire ‘album’. yeah, those big things. oh god i’m so fucking old. i know, i’m supposed to be ‘positive’, but i keep busting my own balls because i have paved a path of unnoticed injustice and irrelevant malevolence. in this ‘thing’, i can at least call myself an asshole and it might do somebody some good, hopefully me, maybe even someone else.
i’m not going to ‘hit the diph’ tho. as wild as i will let myself run barefoot in the interwebs, i won’t go all crazy and shit. i never did get my nitrous oxide tho… that would be ‘doing it big’ you know. lol that shit is like food related and entheogen related! no way! who cares? cannabis cures cancer! yeah right. who cares? really? anyway… lol no context… it’s so fucked up. at least i can type fuck and not f8ck like i feel compelled in facebook. daring them all the time to delete me while i censor myself. sad. 🙂
i have to put it out there, because i have to say, honestly, if i’m going to be all neutral and shit… there is a lot of shit going on all over the place all over here all the time. as a ‘maybe local’ i need to get my shit together. i also have to say, up front, as much as the asshole who used to write this thing may have talked shit about any kind of attempt to get any social group going, forget all that shit. i think i was playing a character who cared about that shit so much, when he could use it, like any distraction, to avoid his own problems. 🙂 I am fortunate to be able to say that money isn’t an issue to going to this thing or that thing, but the problem is there is ‘everything’. there is also the limitations that i have learned are holding Candy back, and i have learned nearly the exact degree that she may be able to get away with and handle easily.
after all, this woman wanted to move to freaking vegas, she spent 3 days cooped up riding shotgun in the too small cab of a big ass moving van to get there. she did suffer though. either way, she wanted it, she’s got it, and now i got to make this shit happen. i’ve been a lazy fuck. honestly. getting back somehow to a point if there is one because this is admittedly intoxicated writing. we can’t go to ‘everything’. we could go to this and that, but it’s not a big ambition, and there isn’t a big drive inside of us to justify spending the money it would take to even attempt to go to everything. i am ‘here’, so there are probably ways i could contribute to this or that, but i have never put myself out there, and people in those circles do not have incentive to involve just anyone local because of so many people who run cons and shit out here. i think i’ve afflicted Candy with my cheapness too… instead of spending hundreds on this or that thing, she would rather split it up into food frenzies and clothing sprees. she knows i want to blow 300 or so on a ‘quad core 8gb ram 2 terabyte hard drive’ machine that i would build myself for just that much, and she knows that i could afford it but i put it off because i keep getting by with what i have because it works. i kind of want it, but whatever. not many people do that it seems. 🙂
i’ve always been a 20K guy. i’ve had the choice to go higher at times, but in the worlds that i have participated in, from one end of the spectrum to another, i was just more comfortable in that area. kind of sad. but… it lowered the bar on how much i had to make to just sit on my ass and ‘be my own boss’ and all that jazz. 🙂 so… it’s like being ‘poor by choice’ but not really suffering as a result. if anything, we’re not taking advantage of our poorness to the point we could be and it’s not uncomfortable. 🙂
i was lucky that i chose to acquire car repair skills and computer repair skills, because it lent a hand in the situation that i happened to end up in, by choice, or by the sum of several small choices. i could maintain an old piece of shit to the point where i’m not making payments, only paying liability insurance, and whatever seems to go wrong by will of god or fate has not prevented me from fixing it so i can keep driving it.
i don’t have to make a lot, and so therefore, i choose not to, and now, of course, the additional incentive of ‘affordable care act’ is quite attractive. 🙂 i used to criticize this stuff, and now i’m like “bring it on! where’s my free shit?” i’m legit. i pay my taxes, i’m part of the ‘working poor’ even if i’m ‘self employed’. 🙂 fucking reality. gotta love it. i had to switch over from depeche mode to duran duran, namesake album, entire album. ‘anyone out there?’
this blog would come into being shortly after the announcement of the ‘end obesity in a generation’ campaign. i don’t have the credentials, but i would love to have offered several opportunities to get to the bottom of this whole ‘obesity thing’. 🙂 for example, my desire to get access to an entire group of ‘super morbidly obese’ individuals in a MRI session that could accommodate them, to further explore the potential neurological links between them in order to find the ‘common thread’ that is so important in finding an eventual resolution.
yes… the answer… a resolution… now… think about that for a second… big food…. food inc… they might not be too happy with all of that. they are an ‘ally’ in the way that they are the only force that stands in the way of full out war on anything with the ‘obesity’ tag associated with it. obesity is the enemy! obesity is fatal! obesity is the devil! omfg who do we burn first? hahahaha
we can’t just ‘solve obesity’ in the sense that we can keep over consuming mass quantities of shit that is obviously not good for us. it’s sold to us every two to three minutes on all cable networks twenty four hours a day seven days a week. fucking right we have marketing dominance. hire billy mayes, wait, he’s dead, the austrailian guy… whoever… 🙂 we can’t eat as much as we want as often as we want and sit around without a consequence. that’s part of ‘the balance’. if we could ‘solve obesity’ in one swipe, then america and china would starve the rest of the world immediately.
so then… it’s the compulsion to eat mass quantities. wonder why? i’m sure that all of the neurologically sensitive ingredients like MSG don’t have anything to do with it, or AD-36 the ‘fat virus’, or genetic tendency towards obesity when the mother is obese while pregnant… Maybe the fact that we are raised generation after generation with more and more convenience and a lack of physical activity. If I dare to mention ‘the balance’ then i have to take many more variables into consideration for meaningful insight. the balance would dictate that obesity is a future consequence, not an epidemic.
forget all of that… personal responsibility! willpower! your a failure! buy this! buy that! lol that’s what it’s all about, the hustle… capitalism, glorious capitalism. i lick the tip of your powerful, glowing, pulsating cock every day! you are my god, in you i trust! lol weird… make a note. it’s like i’m obligated. while i ‘own the name’ obesiverse, i am the god of obesiverse. i am, therefore, ‘obesiverse’. while i may not value the essence of what i have created over time, i can’t deny the fact that it did penetrate certain areas of interest because of it’s absolute literary insanity.
if you were given the opportunity to just ‘switch’, with an alternate personality, that was only slightly different, would you do it for the sake of helping not only yourself, but those around you who were just generally ‘good’ and ‘cool’? freaking five year thing. hard to describe. it’s not even fucking on time, fucking actual ‘b day’ is still far off, but not really, because time is relative, and i seem to enjoy experimenting in tricks that make time go by faster, or slower, or ‘not at all’?
all of the output, of the blog, in the past, might have been a way to create an entire alternative reality, and then, like some ‘god’, destroy it. entirely. anything looking back would become a pillar of salt like biblical stuff that i don’t want to research in this moment. i may have created it, as i had pondered, just to destroy it.
before being all deep, it’s actually just a matter of domain renewal. the second somebody doesn’t keep up with that shit it’s over with. it’s not like i can’t pay the $12 a year, it’s like, do i ‘want’ to pay it and keep this name around? this ‘name’… this ‘character’, that at times i think i would hate right now… hmmm… i’m laughing right now, but i stopped the music because Candy reminded me i should be doing something else. 🙂
it’s so funny, just to me, maybe… maybe… 😉 there is no fucking context! i’m locked in here with the 2D thing or something. omfg i’ll probably want to delete it. maybe not, it might be funny. 🙂
man, inxs kick full album kicks ass… the mood has passed, and i’m over 2000 words yet again… 🙂