Baby

 

The Twin's 15th!

 

A Rather Unremarkable Anniversary (Though it is terribly important to me)

 

    Ten years ago today, I first started writing this blog with the immortal words:

The Prologue to my version of The Great American Novel (sounds ego-driven but is not, do mind the awkward layout)

followed by a lengthy prologue to said novel in progress followed by 2 years of silence. I think I was caught up in Twitter at the time and my life wasn't very conducive to writing. I had blogged previously on MySpace, all of which has since been lost to time with the rest of that website sadly. I had always tried to post with honesty no matter where I posted content, something which has cost me several Facebooks and numerous Twitters and 10k followers on Instagram at one point and no doubt garnered me many haters. Not that I'm bragging. Honestly. But I always seem to piss somebody off with what I write or post, whether it be for a blunt political opinion or foul language or bad taste or nudity and porn. That last one is crucial because porn and nudity and sex has always been an important factor in my life. I have a very open attitude about sex and porn (as you've no doubt already been made aware if you've been following this blog) and I detest censorship so the fact that most websites will not let you post nudity or porn (even with a private account or warnings) pisses me off. So I applaud Blogger for that in and of itself. I've posted LOTS of nudity here over the years and none of it has been challenged. Of course, that could be due to the fact that so few people follow me on here but I digress. It is a good thing. I think it's cost Blogger a lot of respect in the blogging world. My Iphone refuses to run most of my posts and always gives me a message to the effect of "This website is outdated and will not run properly with Iphone" although since they've upgraded the site (much to my friend John's disappointment) perhaps it now works properly with Apple who knows. The functionality of the site does not do me any favors as far as following people and keeping in touch. I wish I had a "feed" that I could read but if there is a way to view the site like that I've never found it so I often have to find the blogs I want to catch up with manually which is a pain.

    So 2 years goes by, and bereft of any new novel content to post, I wrote a short post which said:

New Blogging Excitement

I originally started this blog to post snippets of my novel and get feedback. Phooey! Lets start watching vids and porn and shit. I just need a space to post stuff I'm interested in at the moment, so this has become it until further notice. Enjoy!

 And so I did, starting one month later by sharing other people's content that moved me, first of which was a One Direction video followed by a video of a dude shooting a load of cum on his desktop. So right away, even with the presence of One Direction, you got the sense that you were not in Disney territory here. Shortly after, I wrote my first post about my depression and suicidal thoughts which contained the immortal line "Right now, I pretty much want to be dead every minute of every day." which is heartbreaking to re-read and also makes me happy to report ten years later that even with the pandemic raging, I haven't sunk to those particular lows recently or in quite some time. But then the train was rolling and there was no stopping it. Emotional floodgates had opened, and along with the porn and music and funny videos also came my thoughts on movies, long musings about life, and even the rare naughty pic of myself which, given my horribly low self esteem, in hindsight I'm really rather proud of myself for. Point check: I'm no Adonis. Never have been, never will be. But I think everybody should occasionally be able to feel the freedom of posting a naughty pic and reveling in it as best they can. My posting has always been sporadic. I only posted a total of 10 things between 2017 and 2018. My 2 most productive years were 2015 and 2016 with 46 and 48 posts, respectively, followed I'm proud to say by 2019 and 2020 with over 30 posts each. The pandemic certainly helped me in that regard. With nothing else to do, venting my thoughts became paramount once again.

    I've only ever had 7 subscribers, of whom I am eternally grateful. Although I would have vented without any audience, it of course helps my motivation when at least a few people are always guaranteed to at least be given a chance to read my posts, so to those 7 people who've stuck with me through the years I want to say thank you. Second point check: I must confess that I don't even know how to subscribe to other people's blogs on here but I'm determined to learn. At one point, over 150 people were viewing my posts, probably due to my sharing of them on my now defunct Twitter. The average number of eyeballs to glance at one of my posts is around 20 (for a good post....or porn usually lol). But although I am fascinated with numbers and stats, I've never let it dictate what I post. If I did that, I would certainly drop the porn and go the Disney route. They're doing very well as I'm sure you're aware. But I dislike fake people, so I can't very well follow a fake muse. That said, maybe if I did I would be a successful published author right now. Alas, here we are. Final note: I also have no idea how to contact people through this site. If anybody does read this and wants to get back in touch or keep in touch please leave a comment about how we can do that (besides commenting on each other's posts which I've done but the site doesn't notify you when you get a comment reply or vice versa so wtf is that about?).

    So I'm patting myself on the back for the first ten years. Job done. I wouldn't grant myself well done. It's still an issue for me. Let's see where we're at in the next 10 years.

    

Robbie

    I had a dream about my best friend from high school last night. He was also my first love. It's been a long time since I thought about him at length beyond wondering what had become of him between myself and mutual friends I still hang out with who've also lost touch with him. I chalk that up to being very lonely lately. This pandemic seems to be great for exacerbating my already fragile emotional state. It's strange, too, because I'm not seeing my friends or family any less than I normally would at this point, but by its very nature this new COVID world is particularly alienating.

    I met Robbie when we were in sixth grade. We were both skinny awkward boys with mops of blonde hair that our mother's cut into bowl shapes and we both liked to believe we were cooler than we actually were. He was an athlete though, and I was a bookworm so it's kind of amazing to think back on it now that we ever got past those differences to become so close. I'd just arrived at my new school after my mother had married my step-dad and moved us from the garden spot of Irvington (yes, that's sarcasm) 20 miles closer to the Jersey Shore (though still quite a ways away) in South Plainfield. We had a new house, I had a new stepfather, and I was essentially starting a new chapter of my life. Like The Jeffersons we were moving on up to some extent. We were most definitely lower middle class where we had lived before. My step-father had a much better job than my Dad so I had a room of my own, a tv in my room, my own stereo. That part was pretty kickass. My room was also in the attic, so it had a corkboard slanted ceiling which I was allowed to plaster every inch of with pinups and posters of my favorite bands. My brother's room was still just through a doorway and there was a massive opening in the wall looking into it so privacy was an issue, but I was only 10 when we first moved there so I wasn't exactly in the jackin it every hour of every day phase of my teens yet so that was livable. I don't quite remember the first time I met Robbie but he was definitely in my homeroom class and had a locker fairly close to me (I'm Shaw and he's Stomber) and over the next several months I would stand with his small group of friends in the mornings before we went into school and slowly our friendship would develop. I remember my very first day of school vividly, though. At least the first twenty minutes of it. I was standing in front of the school in a large group of kids before the bell rang to go in. Suddenly somebody shouted "REDNECK!" and proceeded to smack me as hard as they could on the back of my neck. Apparently it was a local taunt because I had no idea what was going on, but adrenaline and anger took over and I spun around and pushed the bully hard into the bushes. He was obviously shocked because he stood up mouth agape at first but then he got angry as well and got in my face. I told him something to the effect of "I don't like that don't do it to me again." and there followed a several minute face off between us, then the bully turned and walked away. Right in that instant my whole school history could have been different. My very first day and I had fought back and the bully had relented. And there was about 10 or 20 seconds where people started congratulating me and giving me compliments. And then it happened. The rush of emotions took over and I started to cry uncontrollably. I had been in a fight before but something about it being my first day and the stress of the moment hit me hard. I didn't cry for long, but certainly long enough to make an impression as that new kid who cried like a baby never mind that he had stood up to the bully.

    I was still pretty young at that point so there wasn't much hanging out during after school hours yet so my friendship with Robbie grew but slowly. Then one day the following year during the Math class we both shared in seventh grade he asked me if I wanted to stay over his Dad's house for the weekend. His Mom and Dad were divorced like mine and his Dad lived in Philadelphia at his new girlfriend's house. I had never stayed over at a friend's house before so it offered quite the adventure. And at that point I'd never been to Philadelphia before so that in and of itself was exciting. He told me I'd be meeting his little brother Kevin as well. I remember that first car ride into Philly. His Dad was very nice and liked all the same pop songs we did so we played all the great Top 40 hits of the day and sung along loudly as we traveled Route 1 to I-95. Rob's brother Kevin was quite the enigma at first. All he did was stare at me from across the seat and make goofy faces, either because he was nervous or because he was genuinely trying to freak me out. But we had a great time that weekend. The house had a large tv room in the basement with plush carpeting and nice cozy chairs and we simply threw down some sleeping bags and had a sleepover, staying up late watching bad horror movies on tv and talking about the nonsense 12 year olds talk about (Kevin would have been 10 at this point). Robbie and Kevin had an interesting dynamic when compared to my own brother and me. They fought all the time just like my brother Russell and I did, yet they still hung out ALL the time which I thought was odd. I fought with my brother and I wanted nothing to do with him at that point at all. The only time I hung out with him was when I was forced to by my Mom. Thinking back on it now, there was really nothing wrong with my brother except that he used to blow saliva bubbles in the back seat of the car which would gracefully float across the seat and land on my face making me want to kill him but all brothers do things like that I suppose. But as children of divorce you would think maybe we would have fostered an older brother protective of his younger brother sort of thing but instead it was more like a get this twerp away from me I'm too cool for this (in my own head at least) sort of thing. In any event, any time spent hanging with Robbie would also be spent with Kevin and would always feature arguing and sometimes even wrestling and fisticuffs but I got used to that. And I soon became very close to both of them.

    Not long after, we started doing the usual shenanigans that boys just going into puberty partake in. It started with the old you show me yours and I'll show you mine game, then entered into naked bouts of the 3 of us running around the house in the middle of the night on a dare, to all sorts of sexual conversations. What girl would you most like to get with? If you absolutely had to, which guy would you pick to suck his dick? And so forth. Up to this point, my first realization that I might be different was watching the video for White Wedding by Billy Idol. The shirtlessness. The leather pants. The lip curl. I'm pretty sure I whipped it out as soon as the video finished and blew a load on my chest. But Robbie was something different. My first in person real life adulation. While he was busy telling me about what girl in school he wanted to fuck I was busy fantasizing about being that girl. When we compared each others' dicks, for him it was an ego booster, for me it was a lustful encounter. One time we got hard and wanted to measure each other and I'm sure for him it amounted to trying to impress me and feel good about himself, but for me it was all about trying to hold the ruler so that I could also touch my hand to his cock. He was quite careful not to touch mine when he measured it. And yet I can clearly recall being in a Kmart at one point in an uninhabited aisle with Robbie next to me and just reaching over and squeezing his dick which led to a back and forth of him squeezing mine and much laughter for several minutes. I was, in fact, the one who showed Robbie how to masturbate. We would put on a porno (VHS mind you, this was long before the internet) and he'd be watching some skanky 70's porn star get down and dirty and I'd be busy watching him out of the corner of my eye. But I digress. I don't want to give the impression that my being gay had anything to do with later events because I never even came out until years after graduating high school and losing touch with Robbie so I don't think that would be entirely accurate.

    Once the weekend stays in Philadelphia began, we were inseparable. Weekends and Summers were spent at each other's houses watching MTV or watching movies or playing video games. I would get on my bike and make the 5 mile trip across town and my day would be lost to adventure. One night in the Summer of 85 Robbie and Kevin and I got on our bikes and rode the 2 mile trek to the Middlesex Mall and our local theater where Pee Wee's Big Adventure was playing. They had already seen it and kept promising me that I would die laughing and eagerly awaited their favorite part with Large Marge. I remember pretending to laugh but not finding it very funny at the time, though now I've grown to love it. Every so often we would hang with other friends as well, but the three of us were always together. Eventually after being at my house so much the boys wanted to start inviting my brother to hang with us which infuriated me and made me insanely jealous. One weekend they invited him to stay at the house in Philadelphia as well, and I distinctly remember my brother and I getting into a genuine brawl on their front lawn while Robbie and Kevin's stepmother shouted out of a second floor window "Boys! Stop it!" One Summer we joined the community pool and we would all take turns diving from the high board and watching the eye candy (I, of course, was watching Robbie and Kevin and any other male hotties wandering about). Several times Robbie and Kevin's Dad drove the three of us to Action Park in Vernon Valley. I'm forever grateful for that because my parents never took us there so I might never have gone and it's still one of my favorite theme parks of all time. We would spend most of the day in the water. Doing the Tarzan Swing into a freezing reservoir, straddling a giant inner tube as it careened through tunnels and around hairpin turns, and facing the very real threat of drowning in the wave pool as ten foot tsunami waves smacked over your head. God I miss that place.

    

    For a while it seemed like we would never grow apart, as friendships sometimes do. We were constant companions until I graduated high school. There were cracks in the facade before that, though. Robbie was an incredibly selfish person, for one. As long as he was having fun, he didn't particularly care whether you were or not. That worked for a while when I was infatuated with him, but eventually it becomes wearisome. He was also prone to criticizing me for things he didn't agree with. He was a HUGE sports fan (the Cowboys were his team, of course lol) and I've never been into sports. At all. Like not even to pretend. But he would pick on me for that which bothered me considering the bullies who were tormenting me in school every day did the same thing. I was always into soap operas as well. General Hospital, Dark Shadows, Edge of Night, Dallas, Dynasty, Knots Landing. I did watch a lot, but Robbie made up a word for my imaginary disease that caused me to watch soaps like a female (TREMUISHAWITIS). The real blow came in sophomore year of high school, though. Robbie had been on the track team for about a year and was starting to hang out more with his fellow teammates who hung with the jock crowd obviously. I went to some of the meets and was even a statistician a few times and Robbie did try to ingratiate me with some of his friends on the team, but we all know that high school cliques can be harshly segregated. I didn't get invited to their parties. So we started to branch off into separate lives. Robbie called me one night, fumbling with his words. He couldn't seem to get it out. "I'm not sure I'm going to have a lot of time to hang out anymore." Never having been someone who takes hints easily (or lets assholes off the hook), I kept playing dumb until he finally blurted out what he was really trying to say. "The guys don't wanna hang with you and I've gotta hang out with them. Try to understand." But I didn't. I was fucking crushed. It felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest and stepped on. Thinking back on it now, I empathize with him more. My high school years were marred with bullying and isolation. If someone had suddenly offered me a window into the popular clique, I'm not so sure I wouldn't have taken it either. But no, fuck that. He could have been a bigger person. Instead, after that conversation, we slowly drifted apart. We still saw each other and hung out, but that ended almost completely with graduation. Robbie party hopped on graduation night at all the cool people's houses while I and another friend drove around looking for a party we could crash because we hadn't really been invited to any of them. The rift became wider as the months went on. Shortly after graduation Robbie got a job in the Drug Fair where I worked so we saw each other there most days and still shared some laughs. But the closeness had disappeared. I was invited to his bachelor party shortly before he got married. I was still not out of the closet so I had to sit in some strip club and pretend to be ogling the girl writhing against the pole. But I don't recall being invited to the wedding. Key factor: Kevin planned the bachelor party, Robbie planned the wedding. I've seen him maybe once in the last 20 years at a Super Bowl party at his house. We reminisced and it was good to catch up, but for me there will always be an ache there. Not just for the unrequited love once lost, but also for the friend who didn't stand up for me when I needed him to. And yet, he's in some of my favorite memories of all time, and despite any resentment I might once have felt, I do often wonder how he is doing. Wherever you are, Robbie, NIMBUS!

Robbie 

Robbie and Kevin and I at my 8th grade graduation

Robbie and I enjoying a graduation cake which my parents got for us which weirdly says nothing about graduation but instead says "Congratulations Nimbus'". Nimbus was our catchphrase at the time, coined by our favorite math teacher Mr. Broccoletti. Yep, I was always weird.

Robbie and Kevin. I miss them. And sometimes I miss the lifelong friendship that might have been. But unlike with most people I lose contact with, I know that with this situation, I was not of equal blame. If it were up to me, we would still be hanging out and reminiscing about the old days. Sigh. Nimbus Forever, boys.

Timothee

 

Call Me By Your Name still breaks my fucking heart and makes me weep like a baby every time I see it on cable some 4 years after it came out. Beyond the fact that it is an absolutely gorgeous period piece in Italy about a doomed gay love affair that would probably have hooked me anyway, you also have in it Timothee Chalamet who is unequivocally stunning to look at. This is just a BTS thing he did for a recent magazine cover shoot, but any excuse for the camera to linger on him is welcome. I'm looking very forward to the new version of Dune (whenever the hell that might finally see the light of day in this fucked up year that we're having) he's starring in. Until then... 

Santa’s Uppercut

This kid and his accent and his threat to uppercut Santa has been giving me some much needed laughter in these dark times 

 

Jaws: The Modern Trailer

 As a follow-up to a post I did a few months ago, I found this trailer for Jaws put together as if it was released in the modern era. I love trailers, it really is a certain kind of art form to compile bits and pieces of a film and stock music to try and entice viewers to spend money to see said movie but also, in very rare cases, to create something wholly exciting all on its own (as Hitchcock did with many of his trailers). This is very cool, but to be fair, a shit ton of the ambiance of those original Jaws trailers was due to them being narrated by actor Percy Rodriguez, who unlike Morgan Freeman being able to lull you into understanding as South Park once stated instead sent shivers down your spine and creeped the fuck out of you before you even saw the movie. Enjoy!