my question isn’t which group will flow the most fundage to the busblog, for i fear none of them will.
far too educated, learned and jaded, they’re so not interested in the frivolity of the cheap thrill.
these are people who just click whatever links these great writers html out for them, they’ll read the little peice and then go on with their lives of changing the world in beautiful little ways, failing to see that if each of them stoked the blog a mere $2, the lives of an afroed young man would change oh so much.
i have a goal, dear visitors. a silly one. but it’s mine. its a goal to get $1,000 from strangers via my blog.
a handout? no. an art project gone terribly wrong? perhaps. socialism in motion? socialism has never been in motion, dont flatter yourselves.
being 108 years old most of my goals have been reached and were attained a long long time ago.
caught a foul ball at a major league baseball game when i was 18, had the best sex of my life when i was 35, made out with three girls at once when i was 25, truly satisfied a woman when i was 55.
have i lived a good life? one that i could rationalize writing about in a daily way? i guess. but probably not.
ive watched too much tv. i smoked too much, drank too much soda, chased the wrong women, voted for the wrong men. fought the wrong fights, gave up driving cars entirely too late. i stayed on too long at jobs that didnt want me, didnt spend enough time with my real friends, only read the bible a dozen times, didnt floss enough, didnt rent enough porn. only wrote a thousand poems.
but one thing i feel good about is that i always asked for the sale.
if there was a pretty girl who was kissable and should have been kissed and could have been kissed, i went for it.
not in a nasty way or uncomfortable manner or in a needy way, or as a dare. but in the way that should be done. spontaneously.
as i while away my days here in this rockingchair stolen during a midnight heist of the Goodwill, santa monica, typing my memoirs on this little gateway notebook, when i want to avoid the arthritic pain of old age, the things that bring smiles to these wrinkled cheeks are the memories of backsteats and couches, doorways and streetlights.
nothing has brought more life to these bones than a good night kiss after a good date with a good girl.
a b c always be closing, it took me a long time to learn what that was all about, but the reward justifies the effort, and the experience is the prize. sexual tension and nervousness and butterflies and racing hearts are better than any drug or alcohol or summer blockbuster movie or amusement park thrill ride and it’s all natural and primal and magical and fleeting.
it’s what dreams are made of, when its with the right woman.
and it’s what life is all about if she accepts your humble offer.
now if you would be so kind, gentle strangers, click these words right here
and make your little heart race.