who the f**k am i kidding?
March 25, 2008
big-ball swingers unite.
i am back after retiring for exactly 36 hours. i must have been out of my friggin’ mind. i love this thing. it’s my baby and i am now back with a vengeance. i am an addict and i can’t stop. i need my fix. i have way too many ideas running through my head and way too many sexual escapades to put a lid on it. my ‘pre-emptive damage control’ entry which preceded this one was a complete farce. i can’t believe i was ever that big of a pussy, even for a minute.
sure, it was strategically done, which at-least one of you was keen enough to pick up on. even so, hey, i am who i am. which in case you’ve forgotten is ‘king of the big-ball swingers.’
we’re taking this shit to the next level baby and if you don’t like it you can pack your anal cavity with sand.
wow. i don’t know where i just pulled that from but it sounded so unpleasant, i had to try it out. the above pic is me right before i reached maximum anal sand capacity. never again…
me as a big pussy
March 23, 2008
i began this blog during what has been, essentially, the most difficult time of my life. yes, i was at rock bottom and it provided the creative outlet i so desperately needed. i have written it from the perspective of a character, really a caricature of myself. sure, i’ve lead a pretty colorful life but really what i was doing was simply trying to push the envelope. i consider myself an artist and with any artistic endeavor one needs to take chances. there were more than a few times when i felt incredibly uncomfortable with what i had written and published for the whole world to see. it was frightening and at the same time completely exhilarating…
all i’ve ever really wanted in life is to be a dad and to have a loving family. i can say that humans aren’t supposed to be monogamous ’till i’m blue in the face but it’s all a crock. writing about my chosen subject matter was more a way to insulate myself against future heartbreak than anything else. i’m sure there was the subconscious desire to flip my ex ‘the bird,’ as well. it was as if i was trying to prove that i didn’t need a relationship and that i was happy being solo. i don’t and i am. while i may not need a relationship i most certainly want one. isn’t that all anybody really wants?
so if i’m willing to take chances in my writing, i should be willing to do the same in my personal life. that being said, i have healed. with the healing comes my inability to write about this crap anymore. i don’t feel like explaining myself to any girl whom i may meet and actually like. i don’t want to have to explain how i’m really not a jaded pig and that i was simply going for a laugh. i don’t want this persona because this isn’t who i am.
writing this blog has been instrumental in helping me find a writing ‘voice.’ it has allowed me to hone my craft and gain an incredible amount of confidence. i shall now turn my attention towards freelancing so don’t be surprised if you see me pop-up in a host of men’s magazines or if you see the expanded edition of the guide to life for the everyman on your neighborhood’s bookstore shelves.
peace out and thanks for reading…
this underwear stuff is friggin’ great
January 30, 2008
let us revisit a topic i have touched upon once or twice…
underwear and my lack of any.
no longer. i have seized the dawning of the new year as an opportunity to raise the old ‘bar’ a few notches, so to speak. i have been eating a prostate-loving diet rich in fruits and vegetables. i have been working out religiously. i have been focusing a lot more attention on the two cornerstones of success - organization and preparation.
now, part of being organized and prepared is wearing clean clothes. that being said, i wear the same pair of jeans every friggin’ day. i am not exaggerating. if you see me wearing jeans (which is almost every day) they are the same pair i wore yesterday and the same pair i’m going to wear tomorrow. it will be this way until i have someone literally take me by the hand and force me to go shopping (ladies???)
let’s face it. clean clothes rock. ball cheese does not. granted, it has taken awhile, but i finally understand the purpose of underwear…
yippee!!!!!!
ladies & gentlemen, i do declare under possible penalty of perjury, there are absolutely no more urine dribbles on my jeans from lackluster shaking. there’s no longer any need to be concerned with the effects of all those wet farts. yes, you may proceed with only minor caution.
i mean, i have been wearing the same pair of underwear for three days in a row now, but who’s counting. hey, they were $30 bucks a pair holmes and that shit don’t grow on trees, bitch.
maybe my pubic ‘fro has had something to do with it
January 14, 2008
in the words of ice cube - ‘today was a good day.’
it was beautiful outside. i went on an incredible jog where i kicked the shit out of multiple behemoth hills. i listened to good tunes. i got some work done. i played the guitar. i trimmed my pubic hair…
yes. believe me when i say it was way past due. it makes sense though because, as far as babes go, i pretty much have been in hibernation. keeping my long and curlies short has not been, even on the long list of priorities. i have made attempts to come out into the dating world. these have been an exercise in futility for i invariably get shafted. well, you know what? winter is over early this year beeatch. what better way to mark the change of seasons than to shave down my penis muffler???
my heart obviously wasn’t really into my earlier attempts at dating. i mean, who in their right mind is going to leave the house with their very own wooly mammoth in their pants? there’s a reason they’ve been extinct for more than just a few millenniums. talk about making a first impression a last impression…
but no longer. i am hairless and ready to party baby. now, if i can just do something about that back hair…
new year’s eve under heavy gay artillery fire
January 3, 2008
in true livinlargeinsf style i rang the new year in at a tranny party. now, why on earth would i go somewhere with single, horny women when i can hang out with a bunch of horny chicks with dicks?
i’m kidding. what do you think i am, a freak? T-R-A-N-N-Y as in transvestite, not transexual.
because i’m cooler than even i give myself credit, i had numerous options for new year’s. during the selection process one particular party seemed to keep popping up more than the others. i took stock of the selection criteria. friends were going? check. there’d be hot chicks? check. it wasn’t crazy expensive? check. sure, we’ll take a limo there but after i get shitfaced, spend all of my money on illicit drugs and lose my friends in the confusion , i’ll be able to walk home? check.
i was still undecided. my buddy then ’pulled at my penis-strings,’ if you will. he brought to my attention how, with all of the gay men that would be at this party, there would be very few straight guys with whom i would need to compete. hmm. that could be interesting. you mean to tell me i’d be one of the very few straight dudes to reap the new year’s eve ‘goodie-bag,’ so to speak? that’s all i needed to hear. i was certain this year’s goodie-bag would include, at the the very least, some heavy face sucking and some even heavier petting, maybe i’d even get to rub my special purpose on some babe while dancing. niiiice.
unfortunately, my bag was filled simply with the smell of farts.
now, i know what some of you are thinking. you’ve already suspected me of playing for both teams and this is the final nail-in-the-coffin. think what you may…
so anyway, i decided on the tranny party. there were, in total, 7 girls in the entire place. this included the two lesbians with whom i went and the two female bartenders. ouch. all of my gay friends pull wool. what happened? oh, well. that’s cool, i thought. i don’t always have to have babes around me…
the above picture was taken as i was scanning the crowd during the ball-drop(mine were still in my stomach,) my only respite from the heavy artillery fire which had been blanketing me. i was looking for the bald guy with whom i’d been dancing. uh, what? or the other dude that rubbed up against me. or that one guy that grabbed me. then there was that other guy who cornered me. or the guy from the bathroom who had an eye twitch which forced him to look down and to the left. unfortunately that’s also where my penis was located while standing at the urinal, peeing. then, of course, there was that gentleman who bought me the drink.
now, that was actually pretty cool…
it’s comforting to know that if i should ever begin pirating for butt, i’ll reap much booty. happy new year.
my underwear is for sale
December 7, 2007
yes. you read that correctly.
in a shameless stab at self-promotion i am going to be offering my skivvies for sale. pretty exciting, i know.
and no, we are not speaking of the ‘fresh out of the laundry - ooh, that smells so good’ kind of underwear. we are speaking of the ‘i’ve been wearing these all week and haven’t showered once,’ kind of underwear. the ‘i ran five miles and moved my bowels even though there were no paper products in my house,’ kind of underwear. the ‘i haven’t trimmed my bush and i’ve had butt sex with a transexual,’ kind of underwear. shall i continue?
i thought not.
due to my fondness for attaching a number value to things in order to quantify their perceived value, i have devised the ‘funk factor’ to clear up any possible confusion. different from the ‘wool pull factor,’ but just as powerful, the ‘funk factor’ will also be on a scale from 1 to 10. a score of 1 will mean that i wore said pair of underwear for 24 hours but did nothing to soil them beyond that of normal ball stink. with each step of the scale the ‘funk’ will increase. whether it be an extra cum stain or an actual skidmark, believe me when i say that i have spent way too much time calculating all the respective values.
the particulars are being worked out as i’m writing this, but i felt the need to let the proverbial cat out of the bag and give livinlargeinsf readers a sneak peek. don’t worry. my ‘winter line’ will be unveiled just in time for christmas. can you imagine a better stocking stuffer?
i thought not.
‘a chafed ass and its owner find love’
December 2, 2007
i had no idea the chaffing was even happening.
if i had, i would have stopped doing whatever it was i was doing. i had taken a yoga class, and i had gone for a jog, both while wearing the same pair of boxer briefs, hanes boxer briefs to be exact.
i have only ever liked calvin klein underwear. that is, when i wear underwear, which is hardly ever. i must say that my calvin klein’s have made more than a few babes unable to wait until christmas to open my ‘package,’ or should i say their ‘package.’ normally though, it’s commando city, baby. believe me. as my ass throbbed, i was left wondering “if only i’d gone commando this time…”
what is one to do when their ass gets incredibly chafed and painful to the touch? i mentioned my dilemma to a friend. his response?
vaseline.
really? hmm. i would have never in a million years even remotely considered the possibility of bringing vaseline anywhere even close to my bung. the more i thought about it though, and the more exascerbated my chaffing became, the better and better the curious ring of vaseline sounded to my virginal ears.
in fact i started to feel a strange sense of excitement, like the anticipation before a big date. what should i wear? should i take another shower? should i trim my anal hairs? should i buy myself a few drinks so that i can ‘loosen up?’
oh, the excitement!!!
i’ll admit it’s an unlikely pairing, but vaseline and i have been dating now for two weeks. our love affair is just blossoming. we are still at the stage of learning all of each other’s idiosyncracies but i can tell you that she is everything i’ve been looking for in a woman, well, except for that whole woman part, obviously.
i may never go commando again.
my herpes didn’t stay in vegas
December 1, 2007
‘what happens in vegas, stays in vegas?’
never, have i heard a bigger crock of shit, ever. it’s the most misleading marketing campaign that i have ever had the misfortune to watch, listen to, absorb, believe.
i guess it just proves that no matter how brilliant i truly am, even i am capable of being ‘duped.’
let me explain.
i went to vegas last weekend for a friend’s bachelor party. we hired entertainment. they sent us four ’smoking hot’ call girls. while the one babe was tossing another’s salad i noticed that there were ‘things’ all over her ‘cooch.’ it wasn’t so bad that it kept me from munching on it. i mean, it still looked pretty good. also, most of the sores were around her clitoris and i never touch a girl’s clitoris. with all of those nerve endings? i’m sorry, but that’s kinda’ gross.
so anyway, i had four fingers in her ass. there was ass-grease everywhere. in the confusion i ’slid’ and accidentally touched some sores, first with my tongue, then twice with my penis, then with my tongue a couple more times, then twice with my foot, and then once more with my penis. all by accident. i didn’t sweat it though because i remembered that everything that happens in vegas stays in vegas.
i mean that’s why i went to vegas, so that everything would stay there. i had no idea that it wasn’t an all-comprehensive ‘everything.’ i think someone may be getting sued…
the twister invitational
November 19, 2007
last weekend san francisco played host to the 1st annual twister invitational.
sure to become a national media spectacle, the twister invitational went off this year without a hitch. 48 teams came from around the world to compete for $100,000 in cash and prizes and for the illustrious crown of twister world champion.
pictured are hometown favorites and the eventual champs, rodd and todd adonis. they are known for their ’slipperiness,’ as well as for their ‘reach.’ their true advantage is that they haven’t changed, let alone cleaned, their pleather pants since a sweaty ricky martin rubbed up against them during his incredible she bangs tour.
i lost to them in the first round. they methodically and systematically break their opponents down with the ever sweet smell of ten year old ball cheese. i can still smell it. yack…
uncle sal ’spanking it’ for the family album
November 10, 2007
my uncle sal is world-renowned for his ‘aim.’ once he began ’competing,’ family picnics were never quite the same. “can’t we just play horseshoes?” was a common utterance which was routinely followed by uncle sal ’spanking’ us in competition.
the ‘firehose,’ as he’s affectionately known, has put out more than a few fires. i have absolutely no idea what that means but it sounded really funny for a split second. he is available for children’s parties as well as for insemination purposes. uncle sal’s ’recovery’ time is not what it used to be so please allow 1-2 days between erections.
