Wordless Wednesday - Something for the Vegans

I'll let this picture speak for itself...

Enjoy your day!  If I find the time to actually write something worthwhile, you may have another update before Friday...

The Evolution of Jerking It (Science is AWESOME!)

This is what you look like when you're watching
internet porn....

I was thirteen when I discovered self-pleasure (a bit late to the ballgame, I know...) and the rest is history.

Back then, it was one of dad's Playboy magazines (helloooo Jenny McCarthy!) and good ol' lefty.

The 4th or 5th time, I rubbed myself raw.  I didn't learn the benefits of lube until I was sixteen (and paid the price on more than one occasion).

Looking back at then versus now, my 'technique' has definitely evolved.  There are definitely a million and six different ways to 'fap.'

A dry-rub, with lubrication, lefty, righty, 'the stranger' and toys galore.

Well, now there are a million and seven...  Introducing, for you iPad users, the newest way to jerk it to internet porn:

The Fleshlight attachment, also known as the FleshliPad.

Your eyes do not deceive you, my brother!  The attachment snaps onto your iPad and has its own pocket-pussy, so you can find your favorite POV porn and imagine yourself boofing a nine-inch munchkin!

The only warning I can give guys is not to try and use this 'hands-free.'  If you put too much weight on the screen you're going to break the glass.  iPads, like their iPhone cousins, have screens that break when you look at them the wrong way.

Oh, and if you like giving 'facials' to your victims, DO NOT let your kids play Angry Birds on this device!  I don't care how many times you've wiped it off, that's just plain wrong.

For those of you that have Android tablets, I am sure there is an Android version out there somewhere (if not, there will be soon).  As technology improves, the evolution of sex (whether solo or with a friend) will always find ways to advance and evolve...

After all, science is awesome!

I can't drive... 5.

One thing that bothers me about this area, above all else, are the speed limits.

In California, speed limits were pretty moderate.  Most streets had a 40-50 limit, and freeways were 65 but rarely enforced.  Up in tater-town, things are completely different.

If you're downtown, the speed limit is 25.  If you're out of the major downtown area, you're blessed to get a limit of 35.

AND IT'S STRICTLY ENFORCED.

Now, in the snow, or when roads are icy, 25 is a reasonable speed.  You slip and slide a bit, but seem to have control when you're in the 20's or low 30's.

However, when it's warmer and you can only go 25, you feel like you're barely moving at all.  You can look outside and see snails whizzing by...

The only good news is the freeway.  The speed limit is 75, and the roads are always open.  There is no traffic like in Cali, and you can get from town to town at a decent speed.  HOWEVER, it makes the transition from freeway to town roads that much more unbearable.  You get to cruise at 80, lovin every minute of it, and then it's back to 25!!

I recently worked at a store where my commute to work war about 33 miles.  I loved my freeway time, because it let me know that my car can still move.  When your car is only allowed to get to about 35 on most days, there's no real reason to shift past 3rd gear, and the car likes that just about as much as I do...

Just to be an ass, I'm going to buy a V8 sports car, JUST so I can drive it around town, at 5% of it's true potential.  *grumble*

Observations: The Library Computer Lab

So I have been spending a lot of time at the local library, because I have been catching up on my reading.  I am also new to the blogging scene, and enjoy looking up material to help 'hone my craft.'

Every now and then, I decide to wander and observe the library-dwellers in their natural habitat.

The computer lab, in my opinion, is the most entertaining.

First off, it smells like a combination of cheese, feet, cigarette smoke and despair.  There are 4 rows of computers, about 10 machines deep.  You can be on the 'outside' area, where essentially noone can see you from behind, or you can be on the 'inside' area, where you are back to back with other users, and people in other rows can peek at your screens.

I decided one day to sit down, surf the net a little, and spend some time being nosy.

For one, there are a lot of kids there.  Teens and tweens, getting acclimated to the intertubes, and looking at Justin Bieber fansites or pokemon forums.  They usually travel in packs, sit next to each other, and talk (somewhat loudly) to each other about how they just found THE COOLEST THING EVER!!

 

Not that a good LOL is a bad thing, but when Nazi-Librarians SHOOSH you at every chance they get, it becomes annoying.

I stared at one guy for about two minutes.  He was in this "deep thought" pose, not clicking or scrolling at all.  I couldn't look close enough, but I'm not even sure his eyes were moving like he was reading.  Just staring... glaring... like he challenged the whole internet to a stare-down, and was determined to win.

The most amusing person was directly across from me.  Our screens were back-to-back, so I couldn't see what she was doing, or even her face, but the noises spoke for themselves.  One minute, she was sniffling and typing away, letting out a dramatic *sob* every few seconds, and then....

 

*TYPPITY TYPPITY TYPPITY* she goes, clacking and smacking the keyboard with her mad-80wpm-skillz, fuming with rage and pissed at whomever was making her cry in the first place.

A few screens that I could peek at made me grin.  Older ladies on 'speed dating' sites, where their profile picture was a woman at least 20 years younger and a whole lot hotter.  Man, if she ever finds a date on that site, the dude is in for some SERIOUS surprises...

There were also a few of the 'angry redneck' types, reading news articles and blaming Obama for the Egypt crisis, the Chicago blizzard, the Bears not making the Super Bowl, and Charlie Sheen's drug problems.  Again, they travel in packs, sit next to each other, and point out different websites to share and gripe about.

MOAR SHOOSHING FROM THE LIBRARIAN!!!

One guy never clicked.  Never typed.  Just scrolled and scrolled.  I know search engines like Bing and Google have ways of just scrolling through results now (especially image results).  Maybe he was looking at dirty pictures?  Maybe naughty shooshing librarians?  I dunno...

A bad thing about comp time at the library is you get 60 minutes and you're done.  I could people-watch all day, but I was shooshed away after an hour.

Not Even Once

I am always trying to learn new things about my new home.  One thing I noticed quickly was the presence of anti-meth campaigns in this city.

"Meth - Not Even Once" billboards, building posters, radio ads and bumper stickers are everywhere.

And rightfully so.  This is a pretty boring state, and when you have absolutely nothing to do all day, meth *could* make things interesting.

Some interesting facts I pulled from the Idaho Meth Project website:

• Idaho spends between $60 to $102 million annually to incarcerate and treat offenders
who admit to having a Meth problem—this represents between 32% - 55% of the Idaho
Department of Correction’s total budget
o 52% of Idaho inmates directly attribute Meth use to their incarceration
o 89% of female offenders in county jail in Idaho indicate they have a problem with
Meth—73% of these women indicate that Meth is their drug of choice

• During 2007, more than 70% of Federal drug offenses in Idaho involved
methamphetamine

• Idaho ranks #4 in the country for past year Meth use by 12 – 17 year olds and 18 – 25
year olds

• Idaho ranks #7 for lifetime Meth use by high school students

Needless to day, meth in Idaho seems to be just as common as potatoes, mormons, and open wilderness.  Of all the drugs to do, meth seems to be Darwin's drug-of-choice to thin out the herd. 

Because I'm a helpful person, I have scoured the internet and found a few 'anti-meth' images that may be helpful in getting the message across.  Enjoy.

 

 

Now, drugs are no laughing matter, and it is truly sad when narcotics can destroy someone's life, or worse, a family.  But I *do* see a difference between something like marijuana and meth.

Marijuana is a plant, and you smoke it.  The naturally-occurring chemicals that are released cause the high, and the result is a buzz that subsides over some time.  Side-effects include laziness, extra hunger, and red-eye.

Meth is a completely different beast.  It is a combination of battery acid, paint thinner, camp stove fuel, drain cleaner, cold tablets, brake fuel and a dozen or so other toxic chemicals.  Anything that makes your teeth fall out, makes you want to tear your skin off, or turns you batshit crazy is not a good way to get high.

If you grow a marijuana plant, you need plant food, lights, and a green-thumb.  If you make your own meth, the countdown to your house exploding begins in 5....4...3...2...

So remember kids:

Dreaming of a White Christmas (Be Careful What You Ask For...)

Being from Southern California, I have never had a true "White Christmas."  I was 28 before I saw actual snowfall with my own eyes.

In California, you GO to the snow.  In Idaho, the snow finds you.  And brutally rapes your soul.

Any time I spend with family is usually a good time.  So when they told me about cutting down my own Christmas tree, I was skeptical but decided to give it a shot.

I have never done this before.  I am used to having either an artificial tree, or going to "Tree Farms" where you pick out a pre-cut tree, the nice clerks bag it up for you, and you take it home.  Point, pay, and go home.  30 minutes tops.

A date is set for my inaugural tree-chopping: The weekend after Thanksgiving.  I'm somewhat excited.

Little did I know...

The days before Thanksgiving, it snowed.  And not just a little snow, it DUMPED.  Jack Frost took the biggest diarrhea-induced-snow-shit I have ever seen.

"Oh, that will just make it easier to get the tree back to the car!" they said.  "You can load the trees on sleds, and just pull them!"

Joy...

Day of the trip.  Still a crap-ton of snow on the ground, but at least it's not coming down anymore.  We all group up, and 3 vehicles all carpool into the magical forest of Christmas Trees.

Why we had to drive 60 miles to find the "right" tree, when we passed hundreds of trees every minute, I do not know.  "Don't worry" they told me, "when you see where we're going, you'll understand."

I watched as tree after tree passed by.  Many of them Christmas-worthy, but we weren't at the right place yet...

We enter the forest.  Gorgeous trees everywhere.  I start to get a little excited.  "Not quite yet, almost there..."

Deeper into the forest we go, until we're practically in Wyoming.   When we park...

Trees!  Woo!  Time for chopping, yes?

"Not yet, let's hike a little deeper into the forest.  That's where all the GOOD trees are..."

Hiking I can do.  I was in scouts, and loved going out into the wilderness.  However, this wasn't your normal hike.  UPHILL, off the main roads, in loose 3ft deep snow, for about a mile and a half.  That's Idaho Hiking.

All the meanwhile, I'm seeing some damn good trees.  "No no, keep going.  Trust us..."  So I press on.

At this point in the story, I'd like to point out that I was ill-equipped for this trip.  I had just bought a pair of snow boots, and this was my "break them in" trip.  The snow was deeper than the boots, and I was wearing jeans, which quickly soaked in all the snow they could.  I was cold and wet up to my thighs, but at least my feet were warm and dry!

So we hike and hike...

And hike and hike...

Funny, but to the untrained eye, we were hiking AWAY from the trees.  The deeper we got into the forest, the less trees there seemed to be.  The ones that WERE around, were either 60 feet tall, or 2 foot saplings...

Finally, about 500 yards off the main path, we get to the "right" spot.  Families divide up and decide which tree they want for their given home.  Meanwhile, I'm tired, wet, freezing, and managed to twist an ankle hiking up a snowy hill in new boots (yeah, I'm a fucking genius, I know).

My girlfriend spots the tree she wants, and calls me over to cut it down.

At that point, I'm tired and limping, and just want to cut down the first tree she likes so we can start heading home.  It's kind of a sad looking tree (Charlie-Brown-esque seems fitting) but she likes it.  I grab the saw, and summon forth all the frustration and rage I have from this trip.

Man and saw prevailed.  I fucked that little tree up.

Now the fun part . Hiking.  Back the way I came.  With tree in tow.

We get back to the main trail, and I'm not doing so well.  My ankle hurts like a motherfucker, and this tree plus fighting the snow is just too much.  I swallow the last bit of pride I had, and asked my girlfriend to take the tree the rest of the way.

Some man I am, beaten by a Charlie-Brown tree, and forced to make my girl take it.

Her and her sister, brother in law, and nephew continue on, trees and all, back down the pathway.  I catch my breath for a few minutes before plodding down to join them, but they were already well out of sight.

Alone, in the middle of a forest.  Nothing but snow and trees in sight.  How far do I follow the pathway before I break off and start heading down the hill?  500 feet?  500 yards?  A mile?

I check my phone.  No reception at all.  FUCK.

And of course, to make things more interesting, my bladder goes "Hey.  Sup?  Howya doin?"

I take a few steps off the trail, and write my Last Will and Testament in the snow, in yellow ink.  Then I begin, what I think, is the way back to the carpool.  Limping, cursing, and hoping I find civilization before hypothermia sets in.

I eventually find my way back, and we all went home.  Most everyone was in a cheerful, triumphant mood.  Me?  I was glad to have survived.

End result was this:

It's not the best tree that has ever graced my house, but I *earned* that fucker.  I went into the forest-of-no-return, fought the elements, and cut that sonofabitch down.  This was MY tree.

Next year, I think I'm going to get my tree from Target.

So... This is a story all about how my life got flipped-turned-upside-down...

2010 was a hell of a year.

I lost my job in April, and the rest of the year was an absolute struggle.  High cost of living, combined with unstable work took its toll on me.  By August, I was at a breaking point, and by September, my girlfriend and I decided to pack up our belongings and move from California to Idaho.

Now, I'm a Cali boy, born and raised.   I have lived in and around the Riverside area since I was about 3.  Cali is what I know and love.  The free-thinking, open-minded, tech savvy culture is what I always called home.  30 minutes from the beach, 30 minutes from the mountains.  Vegas, Mexico, both 4 hours away.  I essentially had life at my fingertips.  Until... Idaho.

A friend of mine summed it up really well.  "Welcome to Idaho, the fucking time machine of the US."  Somehow I was transported back to 1992.

Half the town doesn't know what terms like "email" and "wi-fi" mean. 

High School Girls all have the crimped over-permmed hairstyles again.

And flannel was considered haute coture once again.  Not hipster-flannel.  Lumberjack.

Everything is "just so" in this state.  Idaho is such a red-state, bulls get pissed off and charge at it.  On the radio station, there are 8 country stations, 11 religion stations, 3 classic rock stations, and a small mix of others.  If you want to listen to music that was made in the last 2 years, you have very limited (and very censored) choices.  No hip-hop or rap allowed.

Best of all, I still have California plates on my car.  This labels me as a "liberal queer-o hippie" somehow, and gets me more sneers than I have ever expected.  It doesn't help that I drive a Ford Focus, while the majority of people up here are in pickup trucks (called "rigs" here, for some reason...)

Highlights in this state include:

 Potatoes.   Wooo.  Idaho is the Potato capital of the US, and the bane of Dan Quayle's existence.

Idaho is so damn proud of their spuds, it's the feature on their license plates...

Famous Potatoes?  Really?

There is even a Potato Museum in Blackfoot, a small town that shows it's "Tater Pride" every year with festivals.

Other Highlights of Idaho are....

....

....

I got nothing.

I moved up in October, and am doing my best to make the most of things.  Will I move back down to Cali, or will I forever be trapped in "The Gem State?"  Only time will tell...