“I was thinking that it might do some good. If we robbed the Senate and took all their food.”
So, I am very busy and self absorbed.
So, I made a system.
If someone needs help and can sustain their activity toward self or world improvement for 13 consecutive days. I show up willing to help with all my power and creativity.
Why 13?
13 is supposed to be unlucky.
I was born on September 13.
The 13th step in recovery is naughty and not suggested.
It takes two weeks or 14 days to create a habit.
It takes me about two weeks to find resources for my projects.
So, on day 13 of the UVA Living Wage hunger strike, I showed up.
I had a plan and needed bodies to go all over grounds taking all the edible contents of all the University’s Department kitchens and possibly Carr’s Hill leaving in the food’s place quotes Ghandi had spoken during his hunger strikes.
The food would be placed on the Rotunda steps behind the hunger strikers.
I knew Spring Break was coming, so I found people to donate sleeping bags and tents, so the students could camp out in my back yard until they were allowed to return to the dorms.
I showed up thirty minutes before the 13th hour of the 13th day.
No one approached me or said hello until my friend Frank from Occupy came over and hugged me.
I divulged my plan. He told me he wasn’t sure if anyone was still on strike.
I approached the leaders and asked about the strike status.
And, the last hunger striker had Chinese the night before.
So, I left and went to Holy Comforter’s lunch soup kitchen.
you love to stick your flag’s thin pole in her again and again.
you love to kill her heart songs again and again.
you love to delete her again and again.
you love to hate her again and again.
this piece is infected.
insert your skinny pole here, and disease will spread through your computer’s keyboard to your vulnerable fingertips and your heart will rival your mind in closeness.
your closed, frigid heart will crumble onto itself.
and, as your chest caves in, charlottesville craigslist women will rejoice in their new freedom to love openly and expressively once again.
please, silly, puritanical censor, please flag her one more time.
When I was a first year at the University of Virginia, I was fascinated with frat boys. One night, this guy who reminds me a lot of Steven Bost invited me upstairs to his bedroom. We stumbled through the darkness onto his couch.
He shoved his tongue down my throat and thrust his hand down my tank top. I asked him if he had any condoms. He turned on the light to find some protection, and I realized we were making out against a wall with a huge Rebel flag.
I was seventeen.
I thought he was going to lynch me.
So, I started yelling and ran into the hallway half dressed.
Others starting poking their heads out of other bedrooms.
He ran after me and tried to explain.
In his fraternity, each pledge is assigned a big brother. When the big brother graduates, he gives his little brother something he cherishes.
His big brother gave him his rebel flag.
So, I made him press his palms against his Southern pride flag while I shoved Budweiser long necks up his ass.
Ok, that last part was a lie.
Anywho, when I met Steven with his Georgia drawl, tight body, and Redneck rhetoric, I was aroused.
He’s very ticklish. His size is OUTSTANDING. He smiles and shyly gazes in my eyes when he is inside me. He holds me at night after drunk dialing his baby’s mama seven times.
And, he wants to settle down one on one with someone.
And, that’s not my bag.
So, I decided to post a craigslist ad for him.
(craigslist ad for a friend in Charlottesville, Virginia)
(man in search of woman, dating, romance, long term relationship, Charlottesville, Virginia)
(if he sounds interesting, let me know, and i will connect you.)
(if you would like me to write one for you, let me know.)
TITLE: want me to paint you a birmingham?
Howdy!
I just moved to Charlottesville about two months ago, and I still haven’t found myself a private tour guide.
I am a simple guy from Jackson County, Georgia. One of my new friends told me I remind her of Josh Lucas’ character from Sweet Home Alabama. I just smiled and told her just cause I talk slow, doesn’t mean I think slow.
I want a sweet, kind, woman who is interested in settling down.
I have a lot of things I need to get accomplished like finding a place to live.
I just found a great job, and I don’t have anyone with which to celebrate my success.
But, I hope I can find a woman to believe in me and give me a hug and smile when I get down about how hard it is to get things done in a new place far from home.
Please put a local Charlottesville attraction you would like to show me in your response’s subject line to weed out spam.
Thank you kindly for taking time to read my ad.
I look forward to being the man you need me to be.
Gillian Colbert of Black Door Press has declared February 28th “Bare your sexul soul day.”
Since, I get turned on having all of this familiar and anonymous attention focused on my creative love lit, of course I will rise to the challenge of baring my sexual soul’s hopes.
Here’s my Top Twenty Sex in a Bucket List
1. Tongue kiss Robert DeNiro.
2. Go on a long drive all over Afton Mountain while giving my (not so) secret Charlottesville crush road head.
3. Solve the mystery if my (not so) secret Charlottesville crush’s rug matches his orange red drapes.
4. Appear on the cover of O magazine nude or topless.
5. Start a plus size clothing line called Naked Lady.
6. Re-invent romantic and erotic writing with my own publishing house called Red Paperclip Press.
7. Get an endorsement deal with a vibrator company that supports cervical cancer research and sexual abuse prevention.
8. Get a gothic V tattoo in the middle of my chest while the tattoo artist fucks me.
9. Stay at the bed and breakfast on Main Street and live out the fantasy of an all white night… a white knight, dozens of white roses, white satin sheets, strawberries dipped in white chocolate, white feathers, white blindfold, white silk lingerie, and white rabbit fur flogger.
10. Fuck my husband’s brain out, make him taste it as he’s dying, and become a widow on my wedding night.
11. Have one of my fans tattoo or brand “lick my literary legacy” in his or her pubic area.
12. Make Mitt Romney say, “Please let me suck your pink patriarchy,” and commence eating my pink glitter strap-on.
13. Go to a party only in exotic body paint.
14. Be a naked dessert tray at a party.
15. Be the centerfold and write the copy for an issue of Playboy.
16. Be the sexual or love interest that inspires an original country song hit.
17. Get a lucrative erotica or romance book deal.
18. Sell my Faust romantic comedy series idea called “Burning Boiling Water” to the Food Network.
19. Do a follow up documentary of the current lives of the prostitutes featured in the documentary The Chicken Ranch.
20. Create a literary and visual art series called Safe Sex illustrating twisted, sexual activities that have zero chance of ending in impregnation or sexual infection.
I am about to amazon kindle self publish a short anthology of poems, and I would like cover art and perhaps an image or two to surround each piece.
The hopeful profit from the work will go toward fixing my desktop, buying a netbook, buying a domain, and paying rent for free creative and social networking services specifically for the Charlottesville, Virginia, USA disenfranchised.
If you would like to participate, please review the category “Anthology” in the category cloud at the bottom of this post and commence creation.
(Feel free to bookmark. This will be an ongoing collection.)
A married man whose wife does not know he has other partners and knows that I have a creative sex blog asked me if I would post a picture of him with the words cheater all over it.
I told him that I had been there a done that…sort of. I made a montage of men who had answered my craigslist ads and set it to “Looking for Love in All the Wrong Places.” Funny, a guy who is big into social networking in Charlottesville mentioned to me he had seen it at a Tweet Up a long time ago. He used it in a class to show how internet privacy can become public humiliation.
Honestly, I wasn’t trying to humiliate anyone, because me posting it showed that I was on craigslist trying to find love too. I was actually playing around with how some people look so stern and alone, and then it progresses to men who are smiling with puppies. It was more a piece about perception of people who participate in online love than a joke. People did not get it I guess. I was a bit too subtle back then.
So, I told him if he sent me an unsolicited penis picture, I might be tempted to include it in some online gallery. And, if he sent me a face pic, and he was a celebrity that no one would believe I was doing, I would probably include it then.
He neither sent me a penis pic or was a celebrity, so I shall digress.
Men enjoy sending unsolicited penis pictures to people who post. I know some of you may be thinking it appropriate considering how forward my style is. However, I have had multiple men send me penis pictures when I’ve posted to strictly platonic personal ad sections.
Also, what is fascinating…is my Charlottesville craigslist posts talking about but not visually depicting fetish, pussy, exhibitionism are always deleted within a few hours while posts asking for a train of throat cum loads or having minimal text and penis pictures stay up for a month.
Maybe, I will include one of these pictures on my future ad to insure it against the sexist, Puritanical, bass ackwards censorship overwhelming my area. Tell me which one I should use.
Onward, to the introspection. Why is it that someone so out there has never solicited penis pictures? I watch porn that has to at least have two or three. When having sex, I am fascinated with looking at it to the point I must kiss it. So, why no picture requests?
I guess I just don’t appreciate the aesthetic when there’s no utility or tactility in the works.
I don’t dig the Leaning Tower of Pisa, skyscrapers, or Pez dispensers.
I dig waves, cliffs, ampitheatres, bricks, and basements.
Perhaps, constructing this gallery and studying it will open me up?
My new lover tortures his penis publicly for me. And, I solicit proof of his torment. It’s the first time I have ever solicited private snaps. It does not make me wet, but the public displays create a context that makes me smile and my heart beat quicken.
Maybe, that is the key….the penis picture, solicited or not, needs to have a context to make me hot.
So, here are a few suggestions to my exhibitionist male readers:
1.Combining paint and porn is interesting. Anyone else remember the fascination of watching the chick and two guys painted and dressed like Smurfs, fucking, and speaking Spanish?
2.Add some text to go with your penis pictures….recommendations of your penis from past lovers, dirty limericks, odes to your girth, a silly joke, a warning label, something…..
3.Don’t send pictures of penises you think the receiver might enjoy but are not your own.
4.Dress up your penis as less intimidating characters and put on an answer to The Vagina Monologues. You may call it “Penis Pieces.”
5.Don’t use pictures with you and a partner who can be identified without his/her express permission.
d on’t throw our potential us away.
a nything i think i know means nothing if you never touch me.
v anity is gone. i am a willing slave to my desire for you, fulfilled or barren.
e very time i passed city hall, i wanted to hide under your desk and wait for your lap.
i am sorry i pretended to be someone else to capture your attention. i doubted that someone as sexy, strong, brave, powerful, well-adjusted, charming, intelligent, and supportive could ever be interested in someone like me…. also, i didn’t think someone like you would be so open to a stranger that i could ever get under your skin to hurt you. i hope you can forgive me. and, more importantly i hope you can give me another chance to woo you honestly and without fear.
i want you to be the archie to my veronica.
i want you to be the popularly elected mayor of my pussy ward.
no term limits.
the only special interests i serve are between your ears and between your thighs.
please, please watch me dance just one time…
all my private dances are for you.
have i really missed our connection?
is it a possibility you or one of your thousands of friends will read this, and you’ll know?
