THE WANKING OF PENIS 6.0

When I was in high school, my journalism instructor told me about an article a student wrote years before about a fisherman catching a huge fish. The title of the story was called “The Master Baiter”, a quick pun on what every high school boy was talking about after the story was published in the student newspaper. My journalism instructor never even considered that the words was a play on masturbation and that it would become a sort of urban legend among all the high school students in the years to come. They would whisper to each other in-between audible giggles about the jokes of jacking off, which only played second fiddle to some guy farting in class; yet another show of masculine substance that each of the alpha males would partake in… in an apparent desperate attempt to show which guy was the coolest.
For most of us, masturbation started way before high school. I was in the 5th grade when I masturbated for the first time. I don’t remember anyone ever talking to be about it but I do remember that I woke up one morning with a hard-on and my right hand went down. I did it because it felt good and because it felt very natural. I do remember that the only thing I didn’t expect or prepare for was an organism. When my cum squirted out onto my stomach, I was in total shock. I didn’t know that was suppose to happened and my twelve year old mind wasn’t prepared for it either. In my head, I thought I had hurt myself and that it was clear blood that squirted out the tip of my penis. I had a huge fear that someone was going to find out what I did to myself because I just knew that if I started to feel pain or numbness, I would be forced to tell my parents and they would have to take me to the hospital for major surgery. All of this, of course, coming from the mind of a twelve year old. I don’t think I masturbated again for another month; it was only after my hormones got the best of me that I attempted to do it again. The second time would be much different, because I knew what to expect, and I had my Kleenex held tightly in my left hand.
I’ve often wondered why masturbation has been considered so taboo in our society. It’s like the secret thing that we all do but we never really talk about. Not only do I think we should be talking about masturbation but it should be encouraged in our teenagers and young adults. Boys are horny by nature. It is instinct to mate with anything within our grasp, be it our pillows, socks, or any girl or boy willing to give it up. In the age where sexual transmitted diseases including herpes, Chlamydia, and AIDS are running rampant; it’s imperative that we promote safe activities to protect these young adults. Masturbation is a viable option on several different levels.
I’m a strong supporter of safe sex but safe sex is not 100%. Accidents can happen, condoms can break, pills can be forgotten and so mutual masturbation is an option that can prevent these accidents from taking place. As long as semen doesn’t enter the vagina then the threat of pregnancy is zero; and as long as there is no exchange in body fluids then the threat of disease is zero. We can still show our physical attraction to each other without sexual intercourse. Not only does this show respect to our partners but it shows that we have respect for ourselves. Respect is the key to any long term potential relationship that we decide to enter into. We cannot rely on anyone to respect and take care of providing protection if we are unable or unwilling to provide that protection for ourselves. Masturbating is a respectful way to protect ourselves and our partners.
It’s important that we love and take care of ourselves, heck, how can we have anyone else love us if we don’t already love ourselves. Masturbation is an activity that shows that we do care about our own needs. It’s a proven fact that masturbation releases stress and lowers blood pressure which is an indication of a more healthy lifestyle. It’s okay to focus on ourselves and to pleasure ourselves because we are healthier for it. If we allow stress and the burdens of life to take a hold of us and we don’t find releases, then all of that negative energy is going to build up inside of us, and that is not a good thing. Suffering is not a human condition that we should have to endure and we should do whatever it takes to maintain ourselves mentally and physically. Masturbation can totally turn a day around for any us. We can feel like crap one minute and after we masturbate, everything is okay the next. It’s that release of energy that is necessary to be able to function properly.
During college, I participated in Model United Nations, a program that examines the functions and usefulness of the U.N. We were having our annual conference in New York City where I was chairing a committee. My co-chair was a six foot tall blonde, woman from Russia who had the hottest accent. I would stutter every time I found myself around her; I was just an complete nervous wreck if she was within ten feet of me. At some point during the early morning hours of drinking and partying at a local Irish pub, I got back to my room and the Russian had left a half hearted, seductive voicemail on my answering machine saying she had gone out and had bought me a New York style cheesecake; and that she wanted me to come upstairs to her hotel room and get a piece. After I heard the message, I was flipped out on the floor having spasms, unable to find the air to breath, as my friends looked upon me in both horror and delight. The next day in committee, I was unable to focus on any of the topics that were in discussion. The Russian was sitting right next to me and her very aroma was enticing me to jump on her and mate. I was unable to keep my dick from getting hard so I just kept my legs folded underneath the table so the entire forty member committee wouldn’t see my dick trying to break out of my jeans. I finally hit my breaking point and I called for a forty-five minute recess. One of the committee members that seemed to be bored out of his mind quickly seconded the motion and I ran up eight flights of stairs to jump into a shower and jacked off at the thought of my Russian. I returned to the meeting smiling with a renewed focused on doing my job even though, all I really needed, was a ten minute recess.
I hear story after story of date rape and the pressures that many girls are forced to confront. This is why I think it’s particularly important that boys masturbate before going out on a date. The release of sexual tension is a healthy start before beginning any date because it reduces stress and the sexual pressure on the couple. Boys should be able to focus on the many aspects of a date without the building sexual pressure of how we can get into our partner’s panties. We should be able to relax and enjoy ourselves on any date and focus ourselves on the conversation between us and getting to know the person sitting across from us. The connections that we establish with one another will benefit us, not only mentally, but sexually down the road, if we choose to hold off on having sex with our partners. Masturbation is a tool that every boy should use and I encourage it greatly before going out on any date. It’s okay to jack off in these situations because it shows that we have control over our own bodies and that we might want something more rather than sex.
When I think back to my high school journalism instructor, I remembered just being in bewilderment that she didn’t realize the pun on that one particular article. However, I think differently about her apparent naïve mind frame today. I think maybe, she wanted to push some buttons concerning the topic. I think she was more of an catalyst in getting her students to discuss our true human nature. Looking back on her now, I see her more of a feminist and pioneer in her own right, always striving to get the greater conversation to a more truthful human topic. So the only thing I have left to say on this topic lies in the tradition of Saturday Night Lives’ famous cheerleading skit… “Sex can Wait! Sex can Wait! Masturbate! Masturbate!”

THE CIRCUS CLOWN: PART ONE

Loving someone who constantly expects more out of life is a big responsibility. Their constant search for a deeper purpose is an obligation and burden on those who choose to love these individuals. They are people who often times are lost in their journeys and their faith is usually nothing more than a passing fad. I once made the decision to love someone such as this and even though I do not regret our relationship, I often wonder what things would have been like, if I had not made the decision to date this circus clown just because I wanted a piece of ass.
I had known the circus clown for several years but some time had pass between us when I saw him one night at a local restaurant. I was having dinner with several buddies of mine while the circus clown sat a few booths down from my circle of friends with a lone stranger. They were clearly having dinner together as I glanced down towards him several times throughout the night. After a few hours of conversation, my friends were ready to head out to a bar and I noticed that the circus clown’s date had long since left as he sat quietly in his booth, alone in his thoughts.
I quickly stopped by the clown’s booth and said hi even as my friends were nagging me to come along with them. I smiled, and told the circus clown that I was glad to see him and I hope things were well with him as I left the booth at the urging of my buddies. As I was walking out of the restaurant I realized that I had accidentally picked up the clown’s car keys. To this day, I don’t know if taking his keys could have been a subconscious act on my part but I did not knowingly take them on purpose. I told my friends that I would catch up with them and I returned inside and invited myself down to the clown’s booth, apologizing for stealing his keys.
We chatted for a few hours at the restaurant before I realized that it was almost two in the morning. During our conversation I thought about the different ways I could fuck the clown and considered taking him home. I imagined myself sitting on the couch with the clown’s hungry eyes looking up towards me while he was on his knees sucking my dick. Oh, the enjoyment I could have with this clown. I finally told him that it was getting late and I had to get going. The clown said he had to do the same since he had a thirty minute drive outside of town. This statement was the doorway for getting him into my bed. I casually mentioned that he was more than welcome to stay at my place and that I was most likely going to fall asleep watching a movie.
Five minutes later he was following me in his car back to my apartment. I quickly showed him around my place and we both settled into the living room where I grabbed a random DVD to watch. As the movie started we continued to talk about what we had been doing with our lives and getting updates from each other about mutual friends. I had curled up at the end of the couch and he had positioned himself on the love seat. After about another hour of conversation, silence came down on both of us as we stared blankly at the ongoing film.
Sensing my opportunity, I looked over at the clown and he returned my stare for a few moments before I told him that he could come over and set next to me. He casually played it coy as he walked over and sat down leaning towards me. It was just a few seconds later that I grabbed his face and started kissing him both deeply and hard. I could feel electricity flowing between us as I lifted him up on my lap while his legs wrapped around my waist. His skin was soft and his scent was drug-like in his ongoing seduction of my senses.
My mind was clear of all thoughts except for the desire to be in him. I pushed ourselves down to the living room floor as our lips continued to be locked together. At some point in all of this I managed to take off his shirt and unbutton his pants. My lips moved from his mouth down his neck, to his chest, and then slowly down his stomach when all of a sudden I heard a single word come out of his mouth and I froze as chills came rumbling down my spine.
“Stop,” was the single word that softly came out of his mouth. “I can’t do this unless we are together… unless we are a committed couple.” If I had been in my right mind I would have seen the flashing lights behind his head with the alarm sounding. A computer generated voice would have been screaming “RUN CHAD RUN!” At this point in my life however, I was thinking with my dick, and not using my head. He asked me if I was willing to be in a relationship with him and I smiled and said “sure.”. In the back of my mind I was thinking he would leave in the morning and I could easily just blow him off and not see him again as long as I got what I wanted tonight. He then asked me if I had protection and I told him I did as we preceded to do the deed of dirty gentlemen.
The next morning, I woke up in my bed feeling relaxed as I hovered in the temporary afterglow of sex. I stretched every muscle in my body, preparing myself to get out of bed and start my day as I turned and saw the clown still laying next to me. “Oh shit.” was the only term that was flying in my mind as my afterglow quickly faded off. The clown was still here, smiling at me. “Good morning sweetie.” was the words that came out of his mouth. I simply smiled at him and turned my face back into my pillow has panic began to take a hold of my heart.
The clown didn’t leave my apartment that day and he didn’t leave the next day. In fact, it would be almost four years before he finally did leave. If I had known that night that I was about to be thrust into my most turbulent relationship I would have ran for the hills. I was standing at the brick of everything changing and I didn’t even realize at the time how I was blindly dancing on the edge of the cliff. I was walking straight into the big, top tent, for the grand ole circus was in town. I had tasted the sweetness of my cotton candy and I was choking on my overcooked popcorn, preparing for the greatest show on earth to begin.

FUCK!

We both know what it's like to live alone even when we're together and I stand here now thinking that I don't care.
There's been quite the interruption in our connection and when I see you walking towards me I just don't care.
We live two very seperate lives and I certainly don't mind that you send me into an abyss of confusion. I find myself in that abyss time and time again and apparently I just don't care.
I don't care about our mistakes and how you are about the way you can twist my day.
Did I hurt you? Did I damage you? Did I spite you? Do I care?
I watch you spin around me in my head as my thoughts flee on the sight of you. I dispise that you do that to me but I suppose I just don't care.
You tangle our future on a stick like a simple carrot and I, being the naive rabbit, yearns for it. I'm not going to miss that carrot because I'm just not going to care.
He sucked my light like the leech he was meant to be and I became such a hallow shell, and I wonder if you took advantage of my weakness?
I'm not here... am I?
I think perhaps I do care... I should care... My thoughts are my own... my will is my own... my future is my own. I won't deny myself no more.
I won't entangle myself with you no more.
I won't loose myself no more.
I won't forget my dreams no more.
I won't forget my name no more.
Because... and I say this with my tears... that I sometimes do care.

PRETTY AND UGLY LUCK

I found myself attracted to this guy who I thought was going to be different. He was suppose to be the nice and charming guy. The type of guy who liked to take things slow and develop a relationship at a higher standard than most other individuals, that just dwelled in the thin layer of skin deep. I thought he was supposed to be all of these things… actually, I know for a fact, that he is all of these things. However even the nicest guys can still commit jerkish acts; and this perhaps, is the reason why it’s okay that some nice guys do finish last.
This relationship started by the nudge of our mutual friends and it spanned over a period of just a few months and a few dates. He wasn’t the typical guy that I usually dated, for we all know the type, the self centered, unstable, lack of goals, lack of kindness type of guy that I am so magnetically drawn too. He wasn’t any of these things, he was rather, career oriented, straight edge, polite, and charming. He had family that he loved and great friends that he enjoyed.
We went out and watched a couple of movies and had dinner a couple of times together. I would purchase the movie tickets while he bought our snacks or vice versa. He took me to a couple of high priced restaurants and we would partake in great conversation as I would be hypnotized by his very appealing charisma. I actually liked the guy not just on a romantic level but as a person and a friend.
I started to get the usual questions that start at the slightest flirtation of a relationship. Have you guys kissed yet? Did you make your move? So what’s going on with you two? At the end of our forth date, I still didn’t have an answer to any of these things. Historically speaking, when it comes to being with another guy I usually move pretty fast. I usually don’t expect any relationship to develop so the individual and I would pretty much jump into bed and fuck before the end of the first date. Historically, our only goal would have been to get to that sexual high as fast as we could so we could move on to our next project. So when it came to Mr. Nice Guy, I made the decision not to be aggressive and to not make the first move even though I could feel the frustration of being the turtle and not my beloved rabbit.
Then the unexpected happened… out of the blue, Mr. Nice Guy stopped talking to me, the text messaging between us suddenly stopped, the phone calls went silent, and the online chat ceased. All communication between us just stopped and I was left wondering what the hell happened. I kept running through my mind what I did to make him apparently stop liking me. Was I not likeable? Did I not go slow enough? Did I say something wrong? Question after question kept running through my head and none of these questions had any answers. After a few days of worrisome thoughts and desperate attempts to make conversation through text messaging, I finally settled into disappointment. I had opened myself to a different perspective on having a relationship and I had somehow faltered yet again.
I wish I could say this guy was a jerk. I wish I could say he was a loser and a negative influence on my lifestyle and I could write all those things about him but it would simply be a lie. Some people believe in karma and what you put out comes back to you eventually. I’m not really sure if I do believe in Karma but I do know that I’ve done the exact same thing that Mr. Nice Guy did to me. I have cut individuals off without merit and I have not allowed them the dignity to embrace an explanation.
So I want to take this opportunity to say thank you to Mr. Nice Guy. Thank you for teaching me to always give respect to other people and to always remember that there might be times that I’m not ready for a relationship, and that I should always make clear my intentions with any person that comes into my life. I wish you well in all of your endeavors knowing that I, another nice guy, will not finish last.

THE SMILE OF A FORMER TABLOID JUNKIE

I had to write about Michael Jackson. The constant media coverage surrounding his death, and the resurgence of his music has forced me into reflection about how big of an musical influence his art has played in my own life. During my early childhood, my brother and I would come together and pretend host our own television show called, “The Chad & Cory Show”. I still remember sitting ourselves up in front of the bathroom mirror after our nightly baths and we would interview Michael Jackson; using our “My Pet Monster” as the stand in for the King of Pop. We would begin our little show with the same line each time:
Chad: “Hi! My name is Chad.”
Cory: “And my name is Cory.”
Together: “And this is the Chad & Cory Show.”
We would ask Michael what it was like filming “Thriller” and “Beat It” while we took turns replying to our own questions, attempting to do so in our best Michael Jackson voice, which usually failed in comparison to his actual voice. We would also jump up and down on my mother’s bed to the cassette tape of “Thriller”. This however, was my mother’s Michael Jackson. I wouldn’t become a true fan of his work until I after I discovered his music again at the age of sixteen.
In 1995, Michael Jackson released “HIStory: Past, Present, and Future, Book 1” and I instantly threw myself into his music. This would be the first album that I owned that I connected with completely and truly represented the type of teenager I had become. Night after night, I would constantly listen to the tracks and knew that I had something that was just my own. The pressures of high school, my parents, and my friends would all melt away when I turned on the notes of his album and drifted away in the lyrics of his music.
I think one of the main reasons why I connected to this album so much was because I knew at the time, that I was so different from everyone else around me. I was always able to make friends and I have always been very easy going but there’s only been a few individuals in my entire life that I have really connected with and it was HIStory that allowed me to realize that it was okay to be different. This album taught me that I was going to go through periods of isolation and it would be okay as long as I had faith in myself and that there would be individuals that would be there for me even if I didn’t realize it.
For most of us, being a teenager holds a whole set of difficult situations and problems that we have to deal with, lacking the emotional maturity, the ability to think things through, and our constant insistence in establishing our independence, all have an influence on the choices that we make. If only I could open the door to my former self and show him the all new complexities of adulthood and the whole new range of issues and complications that come with it. We all continue to grow and change but what we sometimes fail to recognize is that our problems also grow and change with us. This multi-layered dimension of human emotion and life can only be dealt with by creative art and music. For me in particular, it’s music that guides me through everything and I’ve come to realize that Michael Jackson played a huge part in giving me a tool to use, a tool that would allow me to cope with my surroundings and situations.
There on out, I would cling to albums that represented some part of my life or simply represented my emotional state at the time. HIStory was the first album of this sort, and because of this album, I knew I would always be able to rely on music to guide me through the good and difficult times of my journeys. Several months later I would be feeling isolated and alone and there would be days where I would just want to scream. It would be HIStory that would lead me to another album; and because of that, I would simply leave my teenage years with a Jagged Little Pill.