War on Jesterism

[jester]

It's a bit like Peters thread but you get to sign away your civil liberties, invade Salisbury England, declare your very own republic, and you don't need to think much just as long as you support your fellow pnets in these times of crises.

[le pire]

oh god, not another thread...

[jester]

Welcome pardner.

Sign up now and abandon thought all ye who enter here.

[Butterfly Man]

British Youth Representative

She loved to go into the Catholic chat room and rattle the cages of the papists by making obscene allusions about her desires, most of which were technically illegal in about 23 states.

I, on the other hand, would welter in the filth of my deep rooted talmudic angst while trying to unravel the arcane riddles of the universe through an endless parade of self help books, single malt whiskey and a Halloween bag of assorted anti depressants and useless self-reflection.

Time has a way of passing way too fast and yet life is painfully too long.

I would've committed suicide but I found the entire act a bit too self-serving and besides, I was always too critical of my writing to trust my ability to leave a decent note.

So I carried around the open wound of living and tried to avoid being a burden to others by constantly bleeding on everyone that had the unforgivable gall of saying, "How's it going?" or "Do you know the time?"

She couldn't care less about what other people thought while I couldn't order lunch without first taking a Harris Poll to find out what everyone else in the restaurant was having.

It's not that I was riddled with doubt or lacking in self-respect, it was just that I had a profound self-loathing and contempt that my parents gave me for Christmas that overshadowed any scintilla of happiness that struggled to remain ignited inside me.

So I spent the rest of my life in the unhealthy pursuit of understanding and inner peace of ass.

The days went by in an endless stream of ennui and masturbation.

She would go out into society and do chores while I faced life with all the courage and full force of denial.

Hell, I only use the outside world for parking, I was hoping to get my surreal estate license or get a job as an insecurity guard.

I picked up the remote in an attempt to immerse myself in mindless oblivion.

The Rolling Stones were on the tube doing some televised concert, I thought I was watching a reunion of the cast of Barnaby Jones playing music while an old shriveled rooster responded to electroshock therapy.

I kept falling asleep on the sofa which after all this time had a permanent imprinted indentation in the form of my body in the position of shameful sloth and at one point woke up to what I thought was Mick Jagger singing "Jumping Jack Flash he's got gas gas gas."

I flipped around to CNN where they were ranting about Cardinal Law, which excited me for a moment because in my drowsy state I thought it was a Steven Segal movie, so disappointed I turned off the TV and focused more productively on being miserable with all the associated joys of suffering.

She phoned me from somewhere out there amongst the living with all sorts of annoying questions about what was I doing and did I try and get a job while she was out all day, she can be so negative with all that frenzied productivity and optimism.

She ís a kind soul but I think I'm starting get on her nerves now that I'm home so much, yesterday she said, While you're up could you throw yourself out? I'd do it myself but since you're already up.

What a drag it is growing old.

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

That Age Representative.

His eyes were deep as wells, midnight blue, and poured forth that light from within that tells you everything not only will eventually turn out, but that it already has. These eyes exuded peace, understanding, and gentle companionship.

My eyes were jaundiced yellow, my back teeth perpetually floating in my queasy, shit-riddled life of "tourista", that "Oh-my-god-where's-the-toilet" disease so many westerners contrive after a few weeks here. What poured forth from within me was the polar opposite of light.

He wore a saffron robe, and often breathed fully, deeply, experiencing walking and breathing as complete sources of fulfillment.

I walked past the prostitutes often, breathing fully of the halter-tops, receiving offers that told me yes, I do look as good as a walking ATM.

He had inner knowledge as to the music of the spheres, the mathematical truth of nonexistance.

I had a pretty familiar grasp of the advantageous 39 Thai Baht to one US dollar ratio.

He sat daily for meditation and contemplation.

I sat daily, on my toilet, in prayer. That my stomache and ass would heal.


He lingered among the lotus.

I farted at the filling station.

He transcended at the temple.

I jostled to the john.

[martin ewen]

I like this game

Pixilated porn
American porn the woman generally have an appetite for the deed, their roles do not preclude perhaps enjoying the encounter at a camera deep level at least.
They are participants in as much as they can at least initiate movement.
Japanese porn woman either simulate or are schoolgirls who get chatted up and raped on the way back from school.
Sex for them is like a bad dream complete with thrashing and helpless noises.
I have a dog and sometimes when it dreams it makes yipping noises as it gently thrashes and I’ve always wondered if in fact it was enjoying itself because there’s a degree of anxiety in the sounds produced by my dog dreaming. Listening to Japanese woman being penetrated on the porn channel in my hotel I feel the same disquiet.
It’s a little strange having a culture where pubic hair and genitals are verboten and pixilated leaving scenes a cubist blur with small arbitrary focused elbows and knees of flesh visable in the midst of tangled fleshy blurs and a whining frightened protesting vocal background. But rape, sexual humiliation and general despoiling of the innocent for personal pleasure is acceptable to package for the mass culture. The tone cannot be disguised by reduction of oneApparently the Japanese really really hate their mothers. Why else would you presume your penis an instrument of torture
Just to give this whacking off riff a little perspective males globally spend around a million leters of semen a day, for this every second they are rewarded with 5 births.
Its pretty plain that as a sub-species we posses the dignity of a furniture humping red setter and the efforts spent in denying this amount to what is known generally as culture.
Music, dance, phlosophy...all invented to misdirect a presumed audience.

[the scarecrow]

Re: I like this game

Originally posted by martin ewen

Music, dance, phlosophy...all invented to misdirect a presumed audience.

Ah but how we love the misdirection, the illusion that we are important as individuals not just in numbers. The great white lie that we are not just life-kinds way of hedging it's bets. For that illussion is from where we derive pleasure, love and the purpose to struggle on. And are we really the only self aware species deluded so, or does the dreaming dog not prove that each and every being on it's own little level, derives great joy from life?

And as such, if the dog can dream, why can't the whore, or the wife or the resented Mother. Need pornography be Just Fucking.... Is there something else in this "erotica" label, is there such a thing as "making love?"

[Magrat2005]

Re: Re: I like this game

Originally posted by the scarecrow
Is there something else in this "erotica" label, is there such a thing as "making love?"

to me, theres

*making love - nice, clam, gentle...mushy
*sex - normal 'this is what we do day in and day out' kinda stuff
*fucking - wild, passionate sex

but thats just me

[Peter Voice]

Pornography and erotica are nowhere near the same thing.

[jester]

Yes they are. They are both on DVDs in the top locked drawer in my bed room, next to the same thing.... But wouldn't you like to know exactly what that thing is?

[Magrat2005]

yes we would

[jester]

Well lets just say it helps enhance my performance... so it is therefore relevant to this forum.

[Magrat2005]

[Magrat2005]

how did we start talking about sex? *thinks* it was the scarecrow....its his fault....scarecrow, if you're reading this, come back and talk to us!!!

[Magrat2005]

hey scarecrow, you might like this - next week is National Condom Week!!!

dont know why thats of any importance, but hey, thats just me!