Business Review: Planet Fitness, Somerville Massachusetts

10 Jan

I didn’t know it was the one with the “Lunk Alarm.”  I was just going with my brother because he had a free pass.  But it turns out Planet Fitness is the chain that made news a few years back for not allowing grunting.  Not allowing overly strenuous barbell exercises, weight dropping or general steel on steel clangor, and above all else banning “judging.”  Signs everywhere in the purple and yellow interior remind you that this is a Judgement Free Zone.  You are not to judge, lest ye be judged.  Except for the biggest sign, which reminds you that it’s also a Lunk Free Zone, and there’s a big purple police gumball mounted above the definition of a Lunk, which is anyone who grunts, drops weights, or judges.  You may judge Lunks.  In fact, you are supposed to set off an alarm if a Lunk grunts in earshot.

lunk-alarm

Fine, I don’t give a fuck.  I don’t drop weights; I wouldn’t dare waste the eccentric resistance. Lower that shit all slow and controlled.  I will try not to grunt, although I can’t promise anything.  Because it’s been several days since I’ve lifted and this means today must be squat and deadlift day.  I’ve been known to have difficulty stifling a grunt as a dremel tool chews the bone behind my kneecaps and a family of rats eat their way out of my pelvis as I’m deadlifting.  That shit is fucking painful but there is no substitute.  In the world outside Planet Fitness, if my ass is unlike the twin meaty cinder blocks sported by a nude Khal Drogo, I will be judged.  So, I’ll try to keep it under control but in any case let’s find a 45 pound bar and some plates and get to it. Continue reading →

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Welcome New Readers

9 Jan

stock-footage-happy-young-women-using-a-laptop-in-a-park

“Cate” writes:

I am sure the writer of this blog falls into that anti-feminist Rooshv, Heartiste BULLSHIT category. Running around blaming women for your CLEAR shortcomings and all the problems with our society.

This blog is disgusting.
You are a fucking pig! I could go on and on, but I suspect you will contract some sort of heinous std that will make you angrier and more pitiful than you already are, and that is enough for me.

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“Eva M” writes:

Wow. How utterly disgusting. I’ve actually been checking out your blog for a while now because of a referral from a friend who thought I would find you hilarious and intelligent. First few posts I read we’re not that bad but then I come along all this shit about dating sites? What is wrong with you? Are you so emotionally damaged because no one paid attention to you as a child and this is your way of making yourself feel better? You should see a therapist. This is just sad and pathetic. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if you had multiple diseases. It’s really sad that the only enjoyment you have in your life is using teenagers and manipulating women into sleeping with you. If there was a way I could do it, I’d try to find your OKC and have it removed indefinitely. You’re just a predator. I feel as a young mother of a beautiful 16 year old girl, disgusted, that if she chose to use Internet dating in the future she could run across filth like yourself. I feel bad for all the girls you’ve fooled. Although, not much can be said about Misty, seeing how she clearly lacks intelligence, due to the fact she uses the same name for everything as she does for porn. But those other poor girls… The “chubby” porn star, the random hookups you pick up from that site, “Gertrude” or whoever… The 19 year old dancer… The list goes on…
And to make matters worse, you then let people say all these horrible things about them?! No wonder you’re limited to having sex with children.

…

Although I realize this Misty girl is the porn star, she’s had her personal business aired out, unbeknownst to her.

Do any of the girls even know you wrote about them?! I’m sure if they found out, they’d be displeased.

As always, I appreciate your passion.

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Some Day I’ll Fuck Her and Then What

7 Jan

This is another post about this person.

Misti.  Well fuck off, I liked her.  She’s a sweetheart.  The date was surprisingly chaste, maddeningly chaste.  But then, what did you expect.  She had been scared of you.  You don’t have to fuck everybody that instant.  You can wait a couple days.   It was… fucking sweet.  It was sweet.  It was fucking romantic, for Christ’s fucking sake.  Long walks on the god damn motherfucking beach.  She revealed after the fact that she’d been wearing a wig.  How would I have known.  She wears the same wig in all of her porns.  She had fifteen of those same fucking wigs laying around.  They ought to name the long straight burgundy colored wig with no bangs after her.  To me, that is just what she looks like.  What the fuck is under there.  Maybe spiders.

Anyway, she was fucking fun and I want to see her again. but– here is the saddest fact in the world.  I could say she’s a a murderous Nazi cunt who kills kids, and I might get the second date.  But it is instant pussy death to type “she was fucking fun and I want to see her again;” somehow, stating interest dries up the vag faster than sawdust spread on a third grader’s puke.  But– fuck off.  You were fun as fuck and I want to see you again.  Eat a dick. Continue reading →

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No One in Greenland Likes Fake Rape, or: Let’s Gaze into the Navel of a Painting of Me Gazing into My Own Navel

2 Jan

In case you give a shit, here is WordPress’ “Year In Review” page for this web site.  Many wonderful memories.

My favorite parts are the world map that reveals that people have looked at this blog from a buttload of countries, and that the biggest search term that isn’t the name of the site is “fake rape sex.” Also popular were “underage cock” and “pubescent tits.”

I was also amused by revisiting my longest comments section.  I miss that guy “pffffffftttsssssssiimmbllllllddddddnnnnnnnnn.”  I wonder where he went.  His comments were better than the fucking blog.

I do not plan on taking the blog in a new direction in 2013.  Nor do I plan on taking my life in a new direction.  I plan on doing the exact same shit and typing about it into the exact same free WordPress “Bueno” format, which was the first one offered when I set up the page.  But I’ll probably get cancer or be crippled in a car accident or something, or go nuts from being unemployed, so, there will be new material.

Anyway.  Thank you all for coming, seriously.

 

Protected: Airplane Diary: Television

2 Jan

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Protected: New Years Eve

31 Dec

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Old Foreign Gays

26 Dec

Will always pull the same move.  You meet a guy at a party.  Somewhere between 45 and 60.  He is from some hot climate type land where gays are hanged by vigilantes but also 10 year old boys are always getting paid to suck cock.  The developing world.

He’ll start telling you a story– these guys are always fascinating to talk to.  usually they’re married with kids.  They have had long and storied careers smuggling shit in Pakistan or whateverthefuck.  They will winkingly start telling you a story about sleeping with a hooker.  Always great to hear fuck stories from old guys, or guys from places where sexism is still OK.  There’s less dancing around the issue.  I was in Dubai; I saw the hottest Russian hooker I have ever seen, at a club– I took her back to the hotel room.  Got her clothes off– man, she can’t have been more than sixteen, tits like rocks, you know, flat stomach, beautiful skin.  The most beautiful woman I have ever touched.  And she looks me in the eye as she is taking off her panties, and…

She had a penis!

…

BEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE.

And then they give you a little look, like– how ’bout it?

Park Diary: Yoga Practitioners

23 Dec
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Image stolen from some stock footage web site

I came back out to the park even though it is god damn motherfucking freezing, because there are two girls doing yoga, in yoga pants, on the grass.  I came out so I could look at their asses.

They are going to look over here and see me looking.  Fortunately this laptop gives me legitimacy.  I have some ostensible purpose other than leering at their asses in their yoga pants.  That’s right– stand on one foot, grab the other foot, lean forward.  You are bumbling.  You are going to fall over.  Your expression of physical vulnerability is delightful.  Also, I commend you for your commitment to flexibility and health.  Your yoga pants are being consumed by your ass crack.  Your buttocks are meaty and robust.  You are in fact slightly heavier than one would expect for someone so committed to yoga.  This is an asset.  You are the kind of girl with whom one thinks he has a shot.  By retaining a slight layer of padding, you are not pricing yourself out of the market.  I think that if I met you through a friend I would talk to you and charm you and you would end up drunk on red wine in my filthy apartment cozying up and watching The Dark Crystal on my Xbox before I ate you out on the carpet and got rug burns on my knees.  If you were thinner I’d assume you wanted someone with money. Continue reading →

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What a Disgrace It Is for a Man to Grow Old without Ever Seeing the Beauty and Strength of which His Body Is Capable

23 Dec

You have a nice body, they tell me.  Or, you are fitter than the other guys I’m with.  They say it once.  That’s why I work out.  Hours and hours and hours.  Squat deep, ass to the grass.  I can feel my pelvis creaking like an old car’s ball joint that’s about to snap on the freeway.  You have a nice butt, they will tell me, once.  My knees feel like someone’s digging under the kneecap with a chisel for four days after leg day.  You have a nice “V” shape; you have that “V crotch.”  It feels like there’s a bird with a sharp beak trying to dig out of my guts the day after I do “core” day, which is to say, the day I fuck the floor using a wheel on a stick.  Dead lifts, calf raises.  I walk around like Bryan Cranston in Drive.  You have a nice body, they say in passing when I’ve fucked them already and who gives a shit.

Weekend Journal 12-16-12: The Ref

22 Dec

foot

She broke my toe somehow, with her high heel.  She broke my toilet.  I could hear it running; I was still too drunk to get up. I just heard a soothing trickle like a rain forest waterfall.  It was toilet water saturating the rug.  Now my apartment will never not smell like mildew.   She bled all over my sheets.   Why do girls always get their fucking period at my house, it’s like I have some kind of hormone in the air.  I like to think they’re aborting some other man’s seed in preparation for me ravishing their womb.  But they always get their fucking period, which, it’s part of nature but it’s fucking disgusting.

Still.  What a piece of ass. Continue reading →

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