Less than a month to go... yay Boston!!!!
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Posted:Feb 26, 2009 8:29 am
Last Updated:Apr 14, 2009 6:27 am
1319 Views
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That's right kiddos and kiddettes, I'll be flying in to Logan International on the 19th of March! Friends of mine are getting married on The Cape and I've been asked to be "best man" for the weekend which should be easy enough. 
There will be a number of long time pals I haven't seen in a while, so it should be fun, provided I can stay out of trouble (like that'll happen, hahahaha). If you're in the area between the 19th to the 22nd then hit me up. If it looks like I have the time, maybe we can hang out.
Boston *he says dreamily*... it's been far to long. LOL
Thighmaster out!!!!!!
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Spending my time.
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Posted:Dec 21, 2008 12:50 pm
Last Updated:May 15, 2024 10:46 am
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Ah yes... back in the Ashland/Huntington area again. I've been here for almost a year now, hanging with the fam, writing, working, traveling. Speaking of which, anyone in Lexington - HEADS UP!
I visit Lexington quite a bit, lived there for 11 years and still have friends there. So feel free to drop me a line if you wanna talk. We might even hang out a bit... if you're not too scary. hahahahahahahah
peace all
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The Great Idaho Conspiracy
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Posted:Aug 26, 2007 9:58 pm
Last Updated:Nov 30, 2009 10:48 am
1763 Views
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IDAHO IS NOT A STATE!! IN FACT...
...it deosn't even exist. It's a conspiracy of cartography, a "black bag" operation, started in the early Nineteen Fifties by the United States Military Industrial Complex. See, back then, the Cold War was really getting into full swing psychologically: seeds of fear sown by the Sacco-Vanzetti (Boston, MA: 1927) case grew in fetid untruths.
The title of "anarchist" seemingly doomed Nicola Sacco and Bartolomeo Vanzetti to their state appointed deaths. American jurisprudence took a turn for the nasty... some even say a U-turn. Years passed until Senator Joseph McCarthy presented to Congress a list of "known Communists", provoking what will forever be known as the period of the Second Red Scare, the Era of McCarthyism. Eventually the unproved witch hunt dies, quickly followed by its alcohol-eroded creator.
Even with a sign as obvious as this: Joseph McCarthy, liar, dead at 49 from cirrhosis and hepatitis; friend and colleague to J. Edgar Hoover, government thug, a tool of unchecked aggression. Staring his lies right square in the face, the mass public allowed their fears to persist and grow. This made the U.S. Military Industrial Complex (USMIC) very happy. The U.S. had spent great time, effort, and resources in converting tractors to tanks for WWII, and the powerful found they liked the scratch that could be made.
Why ruin a good thing, they questioned. Fuck the farmers. War will the be the fruit of our labors, and the fruit shall surely taste sweet.
I'm not talking about mere citizens, but a newly disguised ruling class, a class of prestige, opportunity, families already possessing at least a modicum of power in these United States. Their ancestors had ruled before...their lessons learned and passed along. They knew how McCarthyism would end, and had a contingency. They knew that "the people" would eventually need real faces put to this imaginary enemy. The obvious choice was to pick the relatively new U.S.S.R. but high-level government economists advised against the selection. They cited the closed-system of economics, the effects their non-convertible Ruble, the limited industry. For a long term "war", a stronger enemy was needed... but no better solution presented itself. The US provided the technology, the USSR the materials, and in 1949 the Soviet Union detonated their first atomic bomb. A strong enemy was born in the glow of an irradiated sky.
Still, the USSR needed financial help. The US needed them to get the help. A new plot was hatched. The USMIC set to work propping up the Soviet government until they could take over on their own. In 1957, the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) was formed; both the US and the USSR were present for the proceedings. It was at this time that the Idaho Plan was finalized.
The Idaho Plan consisted of re-programming the American people to believe that a fictitious state named Idaho had been a part of the United States since 1890. A recent enough date to be confused with the additions of states number forty nine and fifty, the lie grew to common acceptance with the help of government influenced: publishing houses, cartographers and maps, historians. Once the USMIC determined that Idaho had reached subconscious acceptance in the populace, the full mandate of The Idaho Plan went into effect.
Largely untapped, the USSR’s resources overflowed with potential; vast deposits of uranium lay in Soviet territories, warming the ground, waiting to be plucked. According to plan, the USSR set to work, secretly exporting two natural commodities to the US: uranium and potatoes. The potatoes came first, funneled through Alaska, bagged in warehouses in Northern Washington State and stamped with the now familiar “Genuine Idaho Potatoes” logo. All sales proceeds went back to the USSR to fund military and technology projects. Their abilities grew. In two short years, shipments began to include uranium ore. In 1949, the US creates the National Reactor Testing Station, for the “expressed purpose of studying the use of uranium toward generating the energy needs of our great nation.” This facility was supposedly built “somewhere near Idaho Falls, Idaho”. In reality, the National Reactor Testing Station is located somewhere in the vast landscapes of Alaska (our 48th state), more for reasons of secrecy and convenience than safety. “The Alaskan Pipeline” became a code for the efficient delivery system being worked by the US and the USSR in Alaska. It was a machine in the philosophical sense, greased by the sweat stripped from the backs of the weak, sons and daughters the world over fell as grist to its gears. The criminals remained in power, claiming to be the cops. They winked at each other across tables and through TV monitors, but nothing changed… for them.
Idaho became the purest dream, dreamt by men of power who only dream of control. As per legislation passed in the 1890's, state status entitled the fictitous Idaho to full federal funding under a newly federalized post-Civil War Government; all monies, all resources have been “re-appropriated” to discretionary accounts and use (see Addendum C: Financial Reports). The purpose? To financially support a “Standing World Enemy (StaWEn)”, hostile to the USMIC and all US Citizens. No support should be provided unless this “enemy” possessed a high degree of “actionable proficiency in the field.”
But you know the rest of this story… it’s on the news… in the paper… everyone is talking about it… I can hear the whispering voices in unison… they wink at each other across tables and through TV monitors, but nothing changes.
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Phantom Lover - Poetry Series
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Posted:Aug 22, 2007 10:27 pm
Last Updated:Jan 22, 2010 11:38 am
2976 Views
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And now the room is one o’clock cozy,
sun-baked warm to a perfection
found on Indian Summer days,
oppressive with the Earthy smell of rotting leaves
stamped down by heavy rains.
My bed and full stomach contribute to the drowsiness.
Close my eyes,
convinced by my calm
that it is over,
that I am fine,
and the world passes into amber dreams…
And now it is five o’clock as I resurface
hazy minded and drugged by new odors:
baked turkey,
dressing,
yeast rolls,
her scent.
Her weight depresses mattress
in front of me,
drawing me closer.
And now I’m aware of my breathing,
slow,
relaxed,
in my ears it echoes…
In this ghost world between asleep and awake,
I reach for her
to drape arm
over her waist,
bending at elbow
to rest a hand on her heart.
Ba-boom…
Ba-boom…
Open my eyes and it’s gone,
the spectre of it,
insubstantial.
Alone on my bed,
afternoon sunlight leaking in.
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Redemption (The Awakening)- Poetry Series
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Posted:Aug 22, 2007 10:26 pm
Last Updated:May 15, 2024 10:46 am
1372 Views
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What good, a man who does bad to those better than he?
--anonymous
I awoke in the 5pm darkness.
(since Daylight Savings
the sun has been setting
so soon)
I survey the room,
my eyes still adjusting.
(faint glow from curtains
that comes from
full moon)
I know I won’t find you.
Books stacked upon floor,
my companions now.
(deer scuttle back to
the tree-line,
sturdy hooves cleave soft earth)
Your face gently floats
into mind;
your voice finds a place
inside of my ears.
(my Hour of the Wolf
is here, this experience
makes me question my worth)
Desiring forgiveness,
I beg for some mercy.
Bathe me in moon light.
Wash me in darkness.
Strip me of all that you hate about me.
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Shadows - Poetry Series
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Posted:Aug 22, 2007 10:24 pm
Last Updated:Apr 17, 2009 9:55 am
1297 Views
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"Let there be light,"
Oppenheimer said,
two-hundred thousand
plus fell dead.
Atomic dread.
Leaving shadow on stair,
a reflection of man,
unaware, without care.
In war, all's fair.
"An honorable victory,
'gainst dishonorable foe
will be our history."
Truman's legacy.
Pass on this lesson
from father to ,
the greater the misery
the more that is won.
Eye for an eye,
tooth for a tooth,
lie for a lie,
truth for a truth,
and the bravest of brave
are sent straight to the grave.
The constant derision
of human division
will end all we know
in a split second glow.
Are we all to be shadow?
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The Show
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Posted:Aug 15, 2007 10:49 pm
Last Updated:May 15, 2024 10:46 am
1377 Views
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It was fantastic. We all played better than we hoped and the crowd cheered their approval at every break. I saw you dancing to our grooves at the edge of the stage. It's nice to see you moving in the crowd, your white shorts and T-shirt stretched like a second skin. The band packs up, loading my truck bed to the brim. Going back inside I spot you dancing with the girls. Walking up behind you, I take your hips in my hands, moving with your sway. You lean back, wrap an arm around my neck and kiss my mouth. Palming your stomach, I press you tight and kiss back. "Let's go, " I say. "I'm parked out back."
I guide you to the door, holding it as you pass through, turn left then make for the truck. It's hard to miss, parked in the last spot, stacked high with electronics. I let you lead, getting a good look at your ass move in those tight white bottoms. I watch the muscles in your legs flex and release as you pace. You look so decadent with your ankle socks peaking over the tops of your sneakers, almost innocent. I snicker, knowing better. I let you in the cab, turn over the engine and wait for the idle to settle into its routine. Looking in the rear-view mirror, I can't see out for all the equipment. "This is going to be tough," I say. "I can't see out."
"That means no one can see us either, " you say as you reach across the seat, grabbing my wrist and guiding me beside you. We kiss again, but not as reserved as in the club. You straddle me, peel off your shirt, and slide your tongue in my mouth again. Your mouth is drenched with desire, radiating heat, and it feels good on mine. Spreading your legs wider, you grind on me, making me pant ever harder. You lean back, your pouty lips forming a small, devious smile. You know what I want. I move you to the floorboard, staring into your eyes, anticipating your mouth. You deftly unzip my pants, pull away my shorts and stroke me. You shove me inside of your mouth. Loosening your tongue, you are soft, hot and sweet. You smile as I groan. Sliding back up, you let your saliva run my length. "mmmmmmm," you hum as you wrap your expert hands around me, gently stroking me, cajoling until... "That's what I like to see, " you whisper.
You have me right where I want, and you know it. Laughter spills out of the club, the warm air of the night breezes through the cab. I look down to see you stroking me, smiling at the sight of my raging erection. Then you dive onto me again, this time, sucking me past your lips, across your tongue and as deep in as you can go. I lace my fingers in your hair as you move. You grab my ass and hold tight, wrap your lips around me even tighter, then oh-so-slowly slide up, stopping before I am loose from your clench. You glide your tongue past your lips, gently licking and teasing the underside of my head. I hiss in pleasure. You smile, pleased. Taking me ever deeper this time, you tickle my balls with your white-painted nails. Up, then down with your mouth and I want you bad.
As you back off, I slide my hands past your bra, gripping those sexy breasts. You groan and suck me with renewed fervor. God you are so sexy!! I want to come, but I have other ideas. "Inside the glovebox, " is all I can get out.
You laugh and say, "I can't get inside the glovebox silly."
"Just keep going, " I say.
I slide a hand free and open the glovebox, pull out a condom and rip it open. When you pull off of me again, I give you the condom. You smile, lean back seductively taking it in one hand while gently stroking me with the other.
"I planned on using my mouth, " you say.
"Plans can change, " I say. "Isn't it a woman's perrogative?"
You make a pleased groan as you look at me in your hand. You put the condom on the tip and start rolling it down. Maybe it's because I'm so sensitive right now, but I feel its pressure around me as you finish getting it in place. I pull you into the seat, straddling me again. A couple stops, watching us make out in the cab, the truck running. They have no idea what's really going on yet, but it wouldn't be long before they found out. Smiling, they get in their car. I hear it start up, but lose track when you drag your nails across the skin of my chest. I moan into your mouth as you squeeze me.
"Did you get that condom out for a reason, "
you ask deviously, your mouth inches away from mine, our eyes locked.
Guiding the straps over your shoulders, I pull the top of your bra down, and suck your nipples into my mouth. I slide my hands across the flesh of your inner thighs as my lips clamp onto your hardening flesh. You grab my neck with your free hand, pressing me tighter. I turn you around and stand you up, your feet on the floorboards. I have a completely unobstructed view of you as I peel your shorts over your ass and spread your cheeks apart. You are so wet I can see it, and so hot I can feel it. Grabbing your hips, I guide you back to me. Using my tongue I flick at your wet folds, you sigh and lean back. I hold my ground, running my tonguetip up and down your wet lips, sliding it beneath that fleshy hood to drag across your red clit, then flicking and licking at your asshole. You laugh and groan at the same time.
"I know, " I say. "Soon."
I french kiss your wetness, tongue lashing your engorged clit. My big hands slide over the flesh of your ass, inside your thighs, over your belly and circle your breasts. Massaging your nipples causes you to inch toward me again, and I use the chance to drive my tongue deep into you. You grunt, grind back and forth, and smile. Now I lead you back. Your heat invades the condom, setting my cock on fire. You lean back, rocking and driving me into you ever deeper, our breathing, ragged, gasping.
"Oh baby, " you squeal, "you feel soooo good. mmmm"
I get you to the seat's edge, standing you up so I can see myself moving in and out. You feel exquisite. Putting your palms on the windshield for support, you start to bounce up and down. A groan escapes me, starting in my toes and moving throughout my body. You reach between your legs and drag your nails across my tightening balls. "Ugggnnh, I'm gonna come, " I say.
"Oh god.. do what you want, " you beg. I feel
the orgasm building inside of me. I can't hold off much longer with your talent. I push you free, exploding lights rip across my eyes as my body convulses in pleasure.
"mmmmm... mmmmMMmm..." you groan to my spasms.
Leaning back, you smile and shake your hips, rubbing against me. You look absolutely devine and nasty as you tease my still spasming cock. You tuck me back in, put on your shirt and get back into the seat. Grabbing each other, we kiss again, hot and full of passionate tension.
You break our kiss, millimeters away from my mouth. I can feel the hot breath of your words as you speak, "Let's go someplace private... it's my turn now."
Gently, I slide a finger across your wetness. You close your eyes then say, "Let's get outta here and have some real fun."
As we pull out of the lot, we notice the couple from earlier. They are still in their car and you blow them a kiss as we pass, but she is on his lap, shirt off. He is busy playing with her nipples. I'm sure they missed it.
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Our Danse Macabre
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Posted:Jul 5, 2007 11:48 pm
Last Updated:May 15, 2024 10:46 am
1352 Views
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Birth... life... death. These are the stages in which we ALL exist, be you emperor, priest, craftsman, intellectual, servant, slave or pauper. No one person can escape these realities. You can try... you can try real hard, but I doubt you will find a way to break free.
The method is for you to determine. By method I am not refering to a solid, sure equation into which we are able to insert the "proper variables". Life's variables are fluid, ever changing, constantly in flux. We do not live inside of a test tube. We live inside of a malestrom of energies that vary according to the responses of other free-willed beings just like yourself. If you believe in paths, then surely one will lay itself out before you, a clearing on which to walk, a trail on which to be. And to what end will that path lead? Can you see its end in "truth", or are you simply wishing for that "truth" to exist simply because you are on a path?
The truth is for you to determine. *what? you were expecting something to handed to you?* Does truth live only in the hearts and minds of humans? Do other animals experience truth as we do? Is truth a belief, or a reality? And if you say to me, "a reality", then where is its proof? Saying so does not simply make it so. Now I know many of my friends here are shaking their heads, thinking to themselves, "Aaron, you've lost it. You know that truth is real. You know what truth is. You KNOW!!" But do I? Do you?
I'm not talking about truth as it relates to wordplay. As a writer, I know one thing for certain, words are not truth, they are not reality. Words are carefully crafted lies to ourselves. Passed down from generation to generation, words are a crude attempt to solidify a reality that is in flux, to nail "it" down, to make "it" understandable... but they are only shadows of "it". Words are no more reality than an image. Images, words, memories, doctrines... these are not the sources of reality and they do not lead to truth; at best, they lead us to the trailhead of a truthful way.
"Under the moon and stars, we are all family," and to think differently not only leads to the demeaning of those who are not like "us", but it demeans the greater "us" that does exist.
Reflect on this and you will come to understand.
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Working Midnights!!!
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Posted:Oct 9, 2006 12:22 am
Last Updated:Jan 31, 2007 3:15 am
2011 Views
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I've always been a "night owl", ever since I can remember. I was the who went to bed but stayed up all night with a flashlight, reading and writing. I never grew out of the phase, and have been a night stalker ever since.
Personally, I love the nighttime. It's so peaceful... everything is calm... the starlight gently lights up the land...
but every time I've gotten a job, it's always been "get up at 4:30am so you can..." I would rather be up and already at work by 4:30am, but it has never wuite worked out... until now!!!
yay, I love my midnight shift job. It's 5 days a week so I can do everything I need to do, cash-wise. And it allows me to stay up during my peak creativity hours!!
So join with me everyone and celebrate the 24 hour society!!! hahahahahahaha
peace
aaron
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Patience is a vulture...
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Posted:Sep 28, 2006 11:35 pm
Last Updated:Mar 2, 2009 10:23 am
1994 Views
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it picks at you and picks at you!!! hahahahaha
I can't say that I've met many people on this site yet. I have had brief exchanges with several people that just seemed to...
Know what I mean? *shrugs* It makes me wonder what folks are expecting from life. It seems that in this cyber age, people are still searching for instant gratification... searching desperately to fend off that unspoken longing, creeping up from beneath their beds in the pitch of night. It's kinda sad really.
In a time of unparalleled access to mass communication, most people seem to be merely observers to the spectacle of this virtual "life". Cyber space is a developing world, a world where each and every one of us has the opportunity to claim our own territory, to make it an honest reflection of our true selves. Most importantly, we each have the opportunity to make new friends... connections that would have been near impossible some 25 years ago!
So, here I sit... patiently waiting as the vultures run the show... feel free to stop in, maybe even say a few words. Who knows, you might just make a new friend. *gasp* hahahahahahah
peace
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Visitors to my blog!!!!
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Posted:Sep 25, 2006 12:34 am
Last Updated:May 15, 2024 10:46 am
1426 Views
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Welcome one and all. I recently reviewed my list of viewers... wow. I have people inside of Kentucky, USA, reading and others as far away as Taiwan and the Netherlands!!!!
Greetings one and all. I know you've probably been wanting more erotica and I assure you it is coming soon. In the meantime, I have been posting some work from an earlier poetry series. I hope you enjoy this more "vanilla" work as I prepare a new installment to "The Steamy Adventures of..."
Hope to see you again real soon!
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To link to this blog (thighmaster73) use [blog thighmaster73] in your messages.
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