Time for bed…

I drained myself a bit posting a zillion stories to ModBlog today so I wasn't sure if I was going to post here as well, but blathering on endlessly on the internet about myself appears to be a facet of my megalomania, so what the hay… I finally got around to writing a bot to help me dig up details on the pictures (which amusingly took less time to program than the amount of time I've spent every day over the last year doing it manually). I have a bunch of new features to add to ModBlog as well; you'll likely see those go up some time tomorrow (just stuff like lists of most commented on posts and so on).

Let's see… Other than that I thought I'd be far more revealing than usual and post a before and after picture of myself at the start of my renewed efforts to get in better shape. I'm definitely not as overweight as I was in 2001 (left picture), but I sure am out of shape… So hopefully the embarassment of the current picture (on the right) will help motivate me to fix that. I've had so many friends in their forties and fifties warn me that their biggest regret was letting their health and fitness slowly deteriorate, so I'm trying to heed that advice. Let's hope in six months I don't look so formless and soft, ha…

Oh yeah, and John Travolta works out at the same gym that we do since he's shooting Hairspray literally outside the door. I wonder if he'll seduce any of the guys there?

I look like a big giant baby in the old photo (I was about 260 pounds at the time), and without my full facial tattoo, I barely recognize myself… It's weird how deeply ingrained into my self-identity the tattoo has become. I can't create a mental picture of myself without it.

The junker tribal up my side on the other hand? Definitely needs to be dealt with…

Let's see what else. I don't think I've told this story before here, and it's sort of a tattoo story so I guess it can go with the photos above even though it's really just one of my (all too many) amusing drug stories. I think this takes place in 1996 or so but I'm not entirely sure. Anyway, we'd gotten a bunch of DMT and one of my friends volunteered to be our guinea pig. We load up the crack pipe with a bit, lit it, and watched him inhale.

He sort of sat back in his chair, with his girlfriend at his side resting her arm on him to reassure him (like all psychedelic journeys, the number one rule is feel safe). He looked a little tense, but was basically catatonic, which is normal. I'm sitting across from him watching the experience, and he starts staring at me. He starts rocking back and forth, and looks increasingly tense. Really agitated.

At this point I'm starting to worry that he's about to jump up and strangle me, and his increasingly nervous girlfriend is just sort of rubbing his shoulder to try and get a message of reassurance through. And then he starts talking to me, quietly at first.

“I want to fuck you.”

Then he says it again. Louder. “I want to fuck you.” And then again. A minute later he's shouting — “I want to fuck the shit out of you!”

I have no idea how I'm supposed to respond to this (and his girlfriend, as you can imagine, is seriously disturbed). So we just waited it out, and maybe five minutes later he was lucid again, and my anus had remained unpenetrated.

One of the things that DMT does for many people is radical synesthesia (and for some people, suspension can do this as well), so not only are all your senses interchangeable, but your emotional responses, memories, and thoughts all merge into a single and simultaneously experienced purity… It's something that's almost impossible to express here, because English simply has no words to describe this particular state of being. In any case, at the end of it all, my friend explained that he was just trying to say that he liked my black arms (which were basically unheard of at the time), and couldn't separate any positive feelings to the deep desire to fuck.

But, strip a person down to their barest essence, and what else are we but fucking machines with disproportionately gigantic brains that trick us into thinking we're somehow different than animals?

(Original forum unavailable, sorry)*
Wow Shannon, that's really annoying! What is it, 1997 on Geocities? Retroweb is NOT cool!

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