Finally got to sleep in my own bed last night. Not that I mind sharing a bed with the very lovely sexy man I’ve been sharing sleeping quarters with, but there is nothing like being able to stretch out and sleep like a starfish (arms out, flat on my tummy, legs kicking out, face down ahhhhhhhhhhhh). And my cat always goes nuts when I get back. She’s siamese so, she can’t really meow like your regular cat. Its more of a ma, ma, ma, and then she follows me around the house ma ma ma-ing, and then into bed where she crawls on my head, and then snuggles in like a spoon, and then back walking on my head and ma ma ma-ing and then back for some more spoon action. I couldn’t sleep until like 3am. Tossing. Turning. Singing Murs “Silly Girl”. Someone post it as a reply to the last blog I wrote, but I erased it in a rash moment. I should have left it it, it was from some dude named 99 problems, but (penny Flame) ain’t one. I feel like I should have left it because he was wrong. Wrong. Murs would have been honest, and not led me on. And he probably wouldn’t have lied to his lady. That being said, you won’t ever hear that boys name out of my mouth again (not Murs, I still love love love murs and probably will till the day I die). not in anger. I’ve left that. Let it go. Didn’t really invest enough of myself emotionally to be heartbroken, so here I am, back in San Diego, and excited for a new day. And a new sexy man.

hmmmm……where should I find him? I wish the cannabis clubs were open down here. I always meet such nice boys in the pot stores. Last time I went shopping in LA, I met the cutest boy and played a couple arousing games of chess. Chess you ask? Why yes, what a perfect stoner sport. unless of course you’re playing speed chess in which case you are probably a lot quicker than me, and a bit more clever. Maybe I just don’t like to commit, and that’s why I can never move my pieces with the quickness. I like to think it all out, play out different things in my head, and when you’re sitting in the pot store, smoking a blunt with a stranger (who is now officially a friend), you find you want to relax into it. Take it mellow. Not that I move any other way.

Maybe I should join eharmony, or match.com. When my webmaster and his lady broke up, he jumped on match, and found the most lovely woman. They have been dating strong ever since. And all stoked on eachother. Then again, I guess you have to know exactly what you want in a significant other if you are going to take that road. No, suppose I can’t do that. Besides, thats really a lot of effort for some dick that I’m just kind of over chasing.

Maybe I need to just fly solo for awhile more. I’ve been single for quite some time, and its been working quite well. Why do I feel like I need someone in my life? Would it prove that I am worthy of loving? no. Would it make it easier for me to sleep at night? Not a fucking chance in hell! If anything, it would keep me up later because then I’ve got this dude running through my mind and sometimes, a boyfriend (or girlfriend) will just drive you crazy. Absolutely fucking crazy. Which is fine, if that is where you are trying to go. But not I, my friends. Not I. I enjoy the sane world and wish to continue living in it, at least for awhile longer, till I decide to have children or some other drastic change that makes your life upheave and your “me-time” turn to “no-time”. Besides, what is the best part about being involved with someone? A STEADY FUCK? hehehe…..yeah……that is what I always thought. Which is probably why my relationships don’t go to well…..hahahahhahahah. Oh god flame, you’re so right on this morning it is amazing.

I did the best scene yesterday for Naughty America. It was great. There was this fine ass MILF named Morgan Ray who is my, Eva Angelina, and Nikki Rhodes drill coach. We are all stretching it out in the Naughty America gym when she comes in yelling like all hell, way too intense and mean. So while she is yelling at us, the girls basketball coach, Coach Christian, comes in to say hello. Morgan starts yelling at him about what a loser he is, coaching girls basketball, and he says “suck my dick”, to which she starts yelling “Oh you think I won’t? Girls let me show you how a champion sucks dick!” and then, of course, dick sucking ensues. It was the first time Naughty America ever shot a 5 person orgy, way to step it up NA, and it was great because being the cheerleader I am, cheering on my girls while they took Christians dick was almost second nature.

Carly Parker was there on set with us for most of the day. Poor thing, her fucking house flooded during yesterday’s dreary rain storm. Well, technically its Demi and Randy Spear’s place, but Carly rents a room in it, and well….talk about shitty. The whole backyard just kind of floated into the middle of Canoga ave. And then part of the house started floating away. All of LA floods when the rain starts, because the city is just not made rain. Not enough storm drains, not enough ways for the water to get to the river. And the LA river was higher than I’ve ever seen it before. Insane kind of. I wanted to get a raft and go down, but of course Darby, my agents right hand man, and my driver to the NA set for the day, said “No penny, you have to go suck dick. You will have to arrange a rafting trip down the LA river another time.” Fine. I will. Maybe I’ll meet a nice boy while rafting down the river. That would be nice.

No, maybe I will meet one when I go out to see my momma. She got me a ticket out to see her at the end of February, and to be honest, I am so excited. It is exactly what I need, a little mom time. Her hugs always make me feel better. I haven’t seen since June and it makes me feel unhappy face. She is such a large part of my life, I hate that she is out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. I mean I like it when I get to be out there with her, but I hate that I can’t just drive to my moms house and get a hug. Maybe I will go down to the Naughty America offices in San Diego and collect hugs from them instead. They always make me feel special.

Well, I’m excited about today for a couple reasons. I finally have the inspiration to paint again. That frustration and angst I have been burying like my french press pushes down the coffee grounds can finally come out on a canvas. The inspiration, motivation and time are all available to me now, and today I will capitalize on it. I will enjoy whatever little upset feelings I still have inside, and work them out with oil paints and a brush. And I am going to work out too, in that hard core way that being highly motivated to look better than I ever have goes, and then I’m going dancing tonight, downtown. Dance the night away. It is going to be a good day. But then again, isn’t every day?

I’m going to go see what Christian said about our day on ChristianSingsTheBlues.com. Fucking bloggers obsessed with blogging. Life of some sort? naw, not me. not me.

It started with a kiss. Anybody who has read my blog knows that this is about my most recent fantasy man, Diamond. Diamond and I have been off and on for awhile now, more off than on lately, but with the power of text messaging and a couple days spent together here and there, it made me feel like there was something worth working for. Something to aspire to, and possibly a future relationship. All of that is now dead in the water, and thank god its now before I really allowed my heart to fall in love, and my mind to forgo all reason and logic (as those in love often do.)
I found out last night, as I was leaving Diamonds house, that he has…..a girlfriend??????

and I’m not going to rant about Diamond, or go off, because that last simple sentence did it all.

I will do this. Apologize to his girlfriend. I never would have went after him if I had known. I never would have pursued, or lusted after, or spent time with, or thought about, or fucked if I had known. None of these things would have happened if he had been honest with me about her because I don’t get down like that. I have cheated on enough people in my life to have terrible karmic luck when it comes to all my future relationships, and thats just not me anymore. I’m not scandalous. I’m not a lying two faced whore anymore….
I was. I admit it. But not anymore. I haven’t been for a long time, actually since my last civilian boyfriend, the one who helped me get clean and who I shamelessly fucked over. I will never cheat on someone again. And I won’t participate in cheating because it makes me sick to my stomach. It makes me physically ill. So last night, when I showed up at his house, (as planned) for a dinner that didn’t end up happening, I was fine with sitting downstairs while he was on the phone with someone. I was fine sitting downstairs while he got some work done. Shoot, I was even fine waiting till all hours of the night to go out to a nice meal. But as soon as I found out he had a lady, I was out. Double out. And not in a nice way. Fuck him…..

And I come to find out that he’s on the phone with her lying about me being there, denying any association with me, and especially denying it started with a kiss….part one two and three.

I’m sorry girlfriend. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to make you cry, but tonight, maybe we both should clean out our closets. If you wanna holler, and go out for a drink, you know how to get in touch with me. If you read this. If not…..good luck. Hope it works out better for you than me. and I honestly mean that.

Diamond? Never again. You’re straight back to Mr. X. Right where you should have stayed.

In fact, I may have to say I’m feeling downright horny. It seems like its been a long time since I’ve gotten down and dirty and been properly fucked. Like I good 45 minute session, where its just hot and heavy. Sweaty and exhausting. Interesting. I’m not quite sure what to do with this actually. I’m in SD, all on my lonesome, and really there is just nobody down here that I wanna fuck. I mean, I haven’t met one yet, not that there aren’t men to fuck because lord knows there are fucking plenty. I just don’t want to deal with going out and doing the whole, Hi my name is….
Should I hire a male escort? AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. oh god, it actually crossed my mind. But then I might as well just hire a male pornstar if that is where I’m gonna go cuz i know what I’m gonna get, and then I should probably film it for you guys to watch on here, and then realistically, I don’t think many of the guys would care about the money, so no, I think I’m going to have to say no to the male escort thing today. And all the male pornstars I know that would be down for a quicky are up in LA, and not here, in my living room.
GOD. Why doesn’t dick just fall out of the sky when you need it ya know? How frustrating. I’ve already masturbated like 5 times today, and its starting to give my wrist a cramp, and I don’t see how guys can jerk off all the time, I mean, the whole forearm starts to ache, and then I find myself using my other hand to move the first hand, cuz my right hand is better at the grasp then the left, so if you are taking a minute to cum I will probably use my left to use my right, so I can properly service your cock with my right hand. Does that make any sense? I just can’t think about anything but sex! I should go work out more I think, maybe burn off some energy? FUCKING A!

Okay.

Breathe deep Penny Flame san. You know how you can properly channel this energy, how you can turn your insane craving for a nice big cock into something productive…

It Started with a kiss…..PART 3

I look you right in the eye, with a smile on my lips, and gladly drop my pants to the floor. You fall out of your clothes and grab tight onto my hips, spinning me, rough, energetic. New. I giggle and instinctively reach back and touch my wet pussy for you. My fingers are dripping as I bring em to my mouth. licking all my excitement, and then reaching back for more. You feel it for yourself, and then plunge your rock hard dick into me.
You feel perfect.
You feel like a different man. Your thrusts surge with a passion that I haven’t seen from you. With a rhythm that rivals any of my coworkers. You take me quick and make me cum all over you. I can’t help but take peaks at your forearms on each side of me, your words, and your self….this has always been one of my favorites with you. My ass in the air, as you slide in between plush lips. You smack it and tell me to get on top of you, and thats perfect because I’ve been waiting all day to grind your dick into my guts, to let my cum drip down your dick onto your body, soaking your balls. I ride you in a way that just doesn’t work with anyone else. You effortlessly hit my g-spot with each circle, with each push. I cum so many times I start to see blurry, shake, convulse.
You spin me around and put me on my belly, my legs closed tight, dripping with juice.

Slowly, your dick tip touches my butt cheeks, then to my thighs, sliding up skin until tip kisses lips, parts, then takes. It hits perfectly. Again, I look to your strong arms on each side of me, and I kiss your hands as you take and own every single part of my orgasm drenched cunt. I thank you for the times you’ve made met cum, let me cum, kept me continuously in a state of orgasm. I tell you I’ve missed your dick, and your dick giving abilities. I hear you sip the air, small excited breaths that make my heart flutter. It feels like fireworks going off in my body, every muscle screaming for you to cum for me, please, cum for me baby, its all I want. You make my pussy so crazy, you just have to….cum, cum please please please……cum for me. Its all I want. I want to please you, and make you happy and be the woman that makes your dick cum over and over and over again.

And you do, flipping me over on my back so you can spray your hot sticky jizz all over my tits, flushed from an insane fucking session. I taste you, and you taste different. Clean. Your sweat is different. everything is so sweet, and pure from you, I taste you again before I clean up, not sure if you notice, don’t really care.

I won!!!!! I won the two that I really wanted to win….So fucking stoked. Okay okay okay, let me slow down, write you all about my week, here out in Vegas at the AVN convention.
This year I decided that since I had the honor of being nominated for so many different things, I should do my best to stay somewhat sober so that if by some crazy chance I won, I wouldn’t be fucked up and make an ass of myself. Well, it started with the first day. Every other year, this convention drives me into the ground. I suppose its probably because I get up around 6/7am, hit up the bar for a bloody mary, then up to make-up, another mary on room service, downstairs headed to the show there are two bars in between my room and the show, so Id get a drink at the first, finish by the time Im at the second, grab another drink and head into the show. Basically, every year I’ve had at least four or five drinks by 11am. and thats just to get into work.
This year, no such way. There is just no way that I can play like that anymore. It doesn’t feel good. I barely even drank at all in fact. A couple drinks with a homegirl the first night, (which sparked a little hankering for a cig, which of course I fell to, but half a cigarette isn’t bad, and it made me feel like shit for the next two days,), two beers at the circle bar the second night, three drinks (over a period of 5 hours) at the club the third night, and then I didn’t drink at all the night of the show, opting instead to attempt a fresh and sober approach to the evening. And I realized a few things due to the clear vision the lack of alcohol provided.
I was drinking like a fucking fish man. All bad. in retrospect, and of course hindsight is always twenty/twenty, I think I have been sedating myself to deal with a social anxiety thing. Big crowds make me so nervous. I’m just a short little thing and I can get swallowed up in massive amounts of people. I’m okay with small groups of people. I’m okay with people I know. But trying to walk through the Mandalay Bay hotel to the award ceremony almost put me into a panic attack. I’ve never felt like that before, and I think the massive amounts of liquor have helped smooth over the nerves of going. Like, if I get trashed then I’m pretty disoriented anyway and don’t give a fuck that people are around because I will just start swinging if I can’t get out.
Instead I felt like crying. And my make-up looked dope, so couldn’t take that road. Fortunately, Derek Pierce and Christian were there to help me. I held onto Christian at one point and started bolting through the crowd, muttering excuse me and pardon me while pushing lookey loo’s outta the way. My heart starts beating fast, I can feel my throat closing up, my palms get sweaty. Every muscle in me tenses, and I can’t make it stop. Even once we were on the floor, it took awhile to calm down. I can’t believe I felt like fucking crying. whatta baby…
It could be because I had to host an afterparty the night before the show. Wanna know my schedi? yup, here it goes…
Wednesday: signing from 11-6:30 (means up at 7:30 to get ready), only open to exhibitors, and media, so its mellow, yellow, nobody doin nothin. wednesday night went out with my homegirl angel, and had those drinks that sparked that hankering I mentioned. But I forgive myself, and move forward. lights out by 1:45
Thursday: Signing from 10:30-5:30 (means up at 7) open to the public, pretty slow all things considered. Hit up a Babeland cocktail party with tommy pistol and gia paloma, and then to a fantastic sushi dinner with Tristan Tarimino and Colton, both of vivid. After that, ran into some buddies that came out from New york later that evening, and hung out momentarily at the circle bar, where every fucking porn person hangs out and I have been known to run around yelling and screaming drunken ramblings, two beers, and I’m over the night. Go upstairs to smoke a bowl with a good reviewer buddy of mine and the lovely trisha uptown, who I’ve known for years. lights out by 2.
Friday: Signing from 10:30-5, (means up at 7) open to the public, I felt like things were going to start to take off as far as busy goes but not so much. Not so much. Now about a week ago, I had agreed to host my buddy dj rhinox’s afterparty. I had no clue what afterparty meant. I mean… after what? Like after the show? Okay, easy. No. well, in las vegas, after party starts at 4am, because most the clubs close around 3. So fortunately at Emprire Ballroom, The players Ball was the party right before my party, so I hung out with the kind folks from Xbiz, and celebrated like Players do…. dancing on stage with Humpty and Too short, smoking in back with the whole gang. Pretty much made my life being that these two men are hip hop originators, well, digital underground, for sure from back in the days and pretty much where pac got his start, and man, all the rappers grew up on Short. So finally, 4am rolls around and Taryn Thomas and I (yes my lovely little ass hat is back) introduce Big daddy Rhinox, I go go dance on stage for about 30 minutes, and bounce. Lights out by 4:45 am.
Saturday: Signing from 10:30-4:30 (means up at 8, can’t help it), pound down a Monster Energy drink, blueberry scone and then a double soy vanilla latte. On the floor on time, four hours sleep just about killing me. Sign all day, gotta go and get in make-up by like 5:45pm, another latte in between, a blunt and my face is done. Then I have to go from Bally’s to Venetian to get my avn dress and meet up with the crew of hooligans I’m heading out with. I’m wandering through the lobby, full face of make-up, in polar bear pajamas, not giving a fuck. “If i can’t find Vivian, my sexy dress maker, fuckit. I’m going in my Oaksterdam a’s t-shirt and polar bear pants, northface boots like what”….I smuggle myself upstairs into the rooms area, finally get in touch with Viv, hook up, throw the dress on, run downstairs to call franny. Franny fran is my accountant, and one of the best friends I have. Top notch lady. Well, being the frazzled tired fool i am, I forget my phone, avn tickets and press pass in Viv’s room, can’t make it up there quick enough, (it takes about 20 minutes to get from the lobby to her room), so I have my girl Demi holler at Fran through a text, tell her I’m at the fountain so holler, and then the group is here. Into the limo by 7:45, at Mandalay by 8:00.
The fucking crowds. I feel the room start spinning whenever I am arm to arm with people. I psyche myself out for part of it, I’m sure. But sans booze, I just don’t know how to handle it. Arm to fucking arm. Until we get to the entrance. at which point I push through like a brand new baby into the world and life begins. Well, at least I don’t feel like I’m going to die anymore. I walk the red carpet with Christian and this new chick, nika, or something along those lines. Ukrainian girl, lovely to the nines. Surrounded by all my favorite performers, Randy spears and his chick Demi, Derek Pierce and Lexi Tyler, we got the wicked girls, the vivid girls, Kirsten price, and Jessie jane the most adorable tiny Big Texan I know, even little Dave Navarro hanging out, interviewing for Showtime. We are done with red carpet by 9:00, right when the show starts, we do the do, make it down to our seats with about ten minutes to spare. And i have to pee like a motherfucker.
The whole arena is filled with people. The floor has like 15 rows of seats, im about 8 back, and then behind that is tables and then stadium seating. I know when they show the UFC shit, all you really get to see is the ring. Well this place is large and in charge.
On my birthday in 2006, I had the pleasure to work with the fine folks at Vivid on one of Brianna Banks movie’s Layout. Paul Thomas, multiple award winning director, actor, singer and muffin maker, and I get along like peas and carrots. Like Rock and Roll. So anytime I have a chance to work under his sunshine, I take it. Like a little flower blooming.
Best Actress Film….YYYYYYEYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! no fucking way. I swear to god, I had some doubts. I thought maybe me and Bri would get best girl/girl, (cuz it was definately the hottest g/g in my mind, even in that dirty scummy hotel room), but best actress? This is huge. The biggest honor of my entire career. And what do I do?
First I forget to thank AVN, the one company that has been recognizing my work from the beginning of my career. Only the company who’s throwing the whole shebang. From the days when I only did myself, movies like Repo Girl by DP, or Innocent by Ninn Works, AVN has been such a huge support of my work, and the fine reviewers and writers have always been so great to me, from Paul to Heidi, from Pete Warren to Dan Miller, these fine folks have been watching over me and helping to guide my career into the most wonderfully fulfilling experience. Because of their recognition, I have been able to continue down this crazy path called porn.
And then being the tired, filterless girl I am, I say thanks to vivid for letting me pretend to be a vivid bitch, thanks to the vivid bitches for being my favorite bitches, and thanks to all the xboyfriends that I’ve lied to that helped me to get to this point right now.
I thanked PT, and ran outta things to say. I had an entire room full of people, and I could have done anything. So I mooned em and ran off…..
Not very lady like Penny Flame but that is all good.
For some reason, Chi Chi had to play his boy/girls song two times, and I think it ate into the rest of the time of the show. And people were getting tired and leaving…They didn’t do any of the sex scene awards on stage. Very few if any at all. Tom Byron and I had great sex for Layout that ended up getting us an award…best couples film. So stoked. I had a whole speech planned out, (he said he had one too hahahha), and nope. Nope no time. They just rolled the credits on the big screens, and whammo, there went like 15/20 awards. Upload took home a buttload of awards. Layout took home best Film, (fuck yeah), and a bunch of other ones. Stormy, YEAH Stormy, she took home best comedy for Operation Desert Stormy, go girl, and she took home a shit load of others too. Babysitters did pretty well, and John Staggliano of Evil Angel, made a sugary sweet speech for his lovely wife Karen. I am over the moon about pretty much all the winners. Girlies like Hillary Scott and Sasha Grey, bigger than life on the tv walls on each side of their tiny frames.
And I felt great. I am very pleased with the everything, probably because I have always wanted to win this award. I am not very good at expressing emotions in my personal life as any man I have ever dated will confess, (the only reason I can blog is because I feel like it is just going into my computer and nobody is really out there reading it) and being in feature films is such a wonderfully expressive outlet for me. It allows me to feel things at no risk of being hurt. It’s like painting. You attempt to bring yourself to create something that an emotion that fosters the growth of another emotion that brings something out in the viewer and connects the whole.

Now, on the other side of my life, the personal, the social, I felt strangely detached the whole week. Really the first AVN that I didn’t go crazy and get hyphey stupid doo doo dumb everywhere all the time not thinking just moving going drinking consuming monster, redbull shaking morning hands crying ugh tiredtiredtired by day two. It may be a right of passage type thing, where if you can make it through a show without getting totally ploughed or kicked out or in a fight or whatever it is that is preventing you from being in a conscious thoughtful state of being, you might have a chance to be around awhile. If you don’t die doing drugs in some dudes room that you met at circle bar, or forget to eat for the entire week and realize day five that you’ve been awake since day one….
I stayed away from the cats I knew I would get fucked up around, and tried my best to find people I knew wouldn’t be more trouble than bubble. Not tryin to bubble, tryin to work, get through it, enjoy myself. Before I came out here I had hopes of meeting up with Diamond, figuring every year our paths cross and it should follow we would this year. maybe that night the stars were leading me away, perhaps an omen improperly interpreted. I’d see him, and then miss him. Or he’d come by and say hello, and then goodbye, and it was just another thing that I felt strange about. The encounter. Because there was none. And I had hoped, having him out of LA and away from all his shit and his job and responsibilities and out here in the city of sin he would maybe want to be just a little sinful, just a tad, even if it was just in a burger king bathroom, but nothing going. No love for your ol girl PF, ahahahha, I mean, no lovin’. Mad love. But definately no nadaneah nada neayh. And I shaved my legs everyday in hopes.
I just have to drop it. Quit thinking about it, him, anything I think. It just flusters me. Because I don’t understand. Time to take a step back and quit pushing so hard. That was the other thing I was thinking before AVN, is that it would be a good test, to see if the green light is pointing in our directions, like every other year, even the one when things were just strange. Should I take this as a sign?
Now I’m at Hard Rock, chillin in bed, relaxing, about to help host a party tonight for Vivid at Body English, Sunday school. Naughty girls. Listening to Jimmy Hendrix Castles made of sand….
And I think I’m gonna smoke a blunt. And take a breath.

It started with a kiss. A funny kiss that didn’t make sense. A kiss that meant so much more, and stood simply as an open door. It started with a kiss, and that one little kiss, (and almost two years of emotional devotion (positive or negative, both parties must admit to thoughts of the other, although being only half the party, I can truly only speak for myself….))led to more than anyone expected.
The first kiss happened years ago, in a Las Vegas hotel only steps outside of an elevator, the first encounter merely around the corner. The 22nd is what I would refer to as our second encounter. That is where I leave the reminiscing, in the past. Except for the second encounter. It was new. fresh. and although the same in so many way, entirely different. Allow me to expand….
We never ended up going snowboarding. In fact, now that I think of it, I don’t really feel like that was ever his intention. NOt that I really give a fuck, like I said, I just wanna see the guy. But this was interesting because Normally he is very by the books, very, “oh this? this time?” then at that time we go and do, well, that. iThis time, I showed up and his windows were open. Not just metaphorically either! Oh no, he has opened the windows of his home because “you have to have fresh air. Stale air is no good. No good at all,” to which I must agree with, and smile (inside, don’t let him know hahahhaha, fuckit too late) because that fresh air is so clean, and you can feel the difference, just on the patio with the screen door drawn.
I ring the bell.
No answer.
I ring again.
Nadda.
FUck it, I’m about to go in this bitch, and I call out in a sugary voice “I’m entering your casa, so…..beware…..”and then I try my hand at the door. Nope. Instead of being a normal girl, and going through the front door, I decide, “why not enter through the door he left open? Why not? Its already pretty much open right?” Grasping the screen door, I underestimate my own strength, ha ha ha, and end up throwing the whole fucking thing off track. Whatever, I break things. He is used to my awkwardness, at least I hope so, lord I hope he’s used to me breaking, bumping and just generally fucking things up. The lord Buddha did not create me as a gentle creature, and I have a habit of destroying all things I come in contact with, as many ex-boyfriends will testify to.
whoops.
He hears my lousy entrance and comes down the stairs like a man who knows his reckless careless and clumsy lover has just returned, wait, through his open door????GOD THE FUCKING BEAUTY BEHIND IT ALL.
no, just funny. I’m a little perved off some wine, I apologize, you are about to get the honest brutal ugly pretty careless reckless truth of that day, and I just don’t have the patience tonight to censor myself, not even a little just for myself tomorrow. I don’t even give a fuck. I’m just gonna, “Let It all Out”, as someone fancy would say about having two glasses of wine and then well, actually I don’t know where that whole story was headed so let me focus, and here we are back at our kiss. nope, past that. okay, no snowboarding, check, I break his door, check. Ahhhh yes. Three days before christmas he has to do a little shopping, which is fine, because he has already pretty much thought it all out and knows exactly what needs to be done. I’m down for whatever, so we go to Best buy to look for something…that something turned out to be a toaster, although ALL i wanted to do was touch his butt, (because i can’t help myself sometimes, I want to put my hands in his pockets and feel his firm little booty hahahah oh lord, here it comes), then we go to the mall, and I try my best not to kiss him and smooch him, (because keep in mind its only been a quick peck/mouth/cheek/smile/lips/hehehe/ 2nd kiss.
The day goes by and as much as I wanted to got to the snow with him, I wanted to come home from the snow with him. Nothing sexier than playing with someone you care about speeding down a mountain over beautiful california hills in sunny 50 degree weather, smiles, hot cocoa, and something about the whole get-up, the pants, the jacket, the goggles, it all makes me want to drop my panties and sit patiently on his bed, begging for I think you know what. Its that kind of thinking that gets you and your “significant other” pulled over on the side of the 210, fucking eachothers brains out in the back of his tinted SUV.
Boy did things go through my head on the way up that morning too, so a tad disappointed I didn’t get to see his trim little self in the “sexy time attire of my dreams”……

So after a little food, a little conversations, and a little sizing up, we go back to his house, to “chillax”, and well, I’m not quite sure right now how we ended up there, (thanks to the fine rioja provided by changs tonight, yumyumyum not quite on my diet plan, but still yumyumyum), well, I mean we drove, but i don’t think there was necessarily a pretense, or reason for going there. Just where we ended up. And then we were just watching TV on his couch when I caught a whiff of his Gautier. mmmmmm. I love good smelling men, and not just men who think they smell good, but men who intrinsically smell good, and the cologne only brings out the natural sexy scent, those pheromones, yes sexy pheromones that just keep me coming back for more. I’m laying with my head slightly on his chest, with his arms extended down my body, when I feel a little movement.
his hand took a breath, I swear, I felt it breathe right there. And then his fingers exhaled onto my skin, my stomach, only an inch of it revealed and available for contact. As he exhaled, his fingers gently slipped around me, and I snuggled closer to let him know he is what I want. His hand wanders a bit toward the titty region, and then quickly back down to grasp the hipbone, fingertips nearing pubic line. I have forgotten to breathe this whole time and as he grazes my fluff, I inhale deeply, back pressing into his chest, while my hand slides excitedly down his new body. the soft cloth of his boxers is always pleasing to my fingers, partially because of a minor obsession with soft things, and partially because of the thought of his hard thing pressed against such soft fabric, ohhhhhh…….I love contradiction. How exciting. Its like filthy words coming out of a beautiful woman’s mouth. Unexpected, and yet, exactly what you wanted to do and see and experience. You may never get to again….
As I rub my hand along his thigh and belly, my arm gently kisses his cock, just a rub by, just a tiny bit of pressure on the jeans. But enough to let him know I want to fuck his brains out.
he easily slides his fingers under the elastic of my pants, and suddenly, he is grabbing, grasping, and holding my butt. So being the horny little girl i am, I arch my back lustfully pushing my cheekers into his hands, beggin him for more.
He slips his fingers a touch lower. in between my cheeks and right under my thong, in fact, parting soft moist lips to pet what has long been his, my sweet juicy, excited state of being, existing entirely between my legs.
I reach into his pants for his throbbing cock, hoping that this is really going where I “FEEL” like it is going. I hope he takes me upstairs and fucks me till his neighbors complain.”
“FUck that, take me to the kitchen, and then you can let him eat cookies off your ass while he fucks you doggy style, just make sure he shares the whipped cream”
“RIGHT HERE. RIGHT NOW. PLEASE BABY TAKE ME”.
IN less than three seconds, all these thoughts run through my head, and just as I’m tunring to beg for him to fuck me like the champ I know he is, he demands I bend over for him and give him everything that we have both been going crazy for….”
hehehehheehhe……i need some water, and to finish my blunt while I proof read this. No censor. Just making sure I’m not a spelling idiot, or a grammatidiot, if you must make the words have sex as well you nasty fucker, hold on….

I take it back. I’m going to bed…..no mas tonight amigos

can you smell a trilogy?

after a ton of baking, and a lot of work on something I should have been working on constantly anyway, I am starting to feel as though it all may be worth it after all. I’ve realized a few important things in this week of confusion, sorrow, and loss. I’ve realized that there are very few people in life that I would do anything for. A few people in this world that I would probably lay down and die for (not that that would ever be necessary, but…..), and I realized that these people must at all times know just how important and special they are to me.
The ones who don’t cut it, the ones who I have been trying my hardest to stay friends with…..this is no friendship. There is nothing healthy about a relationship that leaves one starving for kindness, there is nothing healthy about a friend that leaves you angry, simply because they themselves are so angry it oozes from the pores, and attempts to seep into yours. Perhaps I should start at the beginning. And when I get to the end, I will stop.
As previously commented, yes. This year has been utter shit. Completely fucked. Everything that I hold dear, anything that I have believed in, or trusted in has been tested to a degree that no normal person could effortlessly pass. For example, in January, I quit smoking cigarettes. For those of you who know me, you know that I have been a smoker for over 9 years, 7 of those years a pack a day, the last two, two packs a day. that’s over 40 cigarettes, 280+ minutes a day that I had to fill with something other than cigarette smoking. Talking about it makes me want one. So I am going to tell you what happened a week after I quit.
My dog Lunchbox died from kidney failure, from that fucking dog food recall. A week after. Fucking bullshit. I could kill those careless bastards. After that, things just got more fucked up. From my little mental breakdowns involving Mr. Romance, and undeniable feelings for Mr. X, the lack of ability to talk to normal guys let alone develop some sort of relationship that is NORMAL, I have allowed myself to become increasingly isolated and detached. Quite honestly, I have never felt more alone. Then summer hit, and my friends all started dying. Starting with Haley, and (hopefully) ending with Nello, this year has kind of been a downward slope, more of a cliff where happy feelings just jump off one at a time, in a near suicidal manner.
I try and stay positive. Certain people around me allow this to happen, guys like Diamond or Tye n9ne, because they still have that power and hope inside, regardless of the loss. Then I realize yesterday, today maybe finalized the thought, the feeling, yesterday and today I realized who I need in my life and who I don’t.
Have you ever had someone who you have known forever, who has….well….changed? And not in that “we’ve been friends forever, we are growing old and changing together” kind of way? Just more the “what happened to you? You’ve changed…..” This is a man who I used to refer to as a friend, someone who I used to believe held my best interest at heart, someone who although we have seen bad times, the good times outshine any possible stain on the reputation. Well, I have begun to think that those good times were dreams. Times that I just wanted to happen. Maybe it was just good to me? I don’t know. But I’m done with him. I’ve spoken of him somewhere in this blog before, and looking back, its rare that the things I’ve said have been good. I once told Mr. X that he is the kind of guy you can never trust to be alone with your girlfriend, no matter how tight you think you are, he’ll fuck her (or try anyway) the second you close your eyes. At the time this didn’t seem like a problem, except for the fact that Mr. X at the time was Mr. Flame, and so it may have not been the best thing to tell him that you don’t trust him with you lady, me being his lady. Fortunately, I’ve never felt this way about Kai Bleeze, not in the sexy time or romantic, or even lustful, none of these things have I ever felt for him, so Mr X (flame) had no reason to worry about HIS lady because I wouldn’t let that happen. Kai and I have been friends for years, since we were 12 actually, and it was always based more on a family, “you’re like my little brother” type of relationship. We’ve never dated, and the only times we’ve ever had sex, (twice in our 13 years of friendship), we were both so plastered we woke up wondering what all we did. And one of those times I woke up with a sore jaw, because someone decided to get a little rough, and not being the trained professional, nearly broke my face. That was the last time I would ever have sex with him, drunk or not, because being hurt is not my thing, and while he felt bad, he didn’t comprehend the complexity of the situation at hand. He didn’t understand that there is something lurking deeper there, something that was let out under the pretense of drunken stupidity, something that is fundamentally anger. Anger toward women, and quite possibly, toward me.
I let that go, because it was a drunken mistake, and lord knows I’ve made a ton. However, this anger started to carry into everything he did. From the way he spoke to me and other women, the way he dealt with his friends, the way he just couldn’t let things go, to certain subtle changes in his mannerisms, and outlook on life. Something changed inside this man that I used to call my friend and made him into an angry, chauvinistic, and aggressive man, and I find I no longer recognize him. I look in his eyes, and I don’t see the person I used to know.
So after a couple years of trying to make it work, the past two have been the worst in fact, partially due to the fact that he has started drinking excessively, and partially due to the fact that he hasn’t had sex or a female in years, I am calling it quits. I quit you Kai. Not like he reads this anyway. I’ve told him over and over that I love to blog, that I pour my heart out in these things, and being that we’ve known each other for as long as we have, you would think he would be stoked because I don’t have an easy time opening up. (anyone who has ever known me personally will tell you the same….I am a fortress. I can’t share. and when I do, my emotions and feelings are so bottled up it all comes out like a rocket on the 4th, fucking colors and screeches and ooohhhs and ahhhs at the end of it all).So I admit to him that I blog, and I really like it because I have finally found a venue I feel comfortable expressing myself through. I even tell him Mr. X reads it occasionally to make sure I’m okay (which I absolutely love), and Kai just gets upset, says “Thats fucking gay, I’m your friend, I don’t have to read your blog to figure out what’s going on in your life,” but as anyone who has blogged will admit, it is much easier to come to terms with ones feelings through the spaciousness of the internet. Well, he always refused to read my blogs. Fine. Just fine. Not like I want my best friends to be included in what I care about, to know about things that I sit and take the time to write, the subjects that occasionally bring tears to my eyes. God forbid. Just another thing I had to let go. He said he would read it once, after a huge blowout fight, where I ended up screaming “You know what? If you had something that you loved to do and you did it everyday I would die to read what meant so much to you, I would do anything I could so I could share with you something so personal and real, anything,” but if that outburst didn’t prompt some sort of reaction I don’t know what would. And I highly doubt that he actually read anything. He never even finished the books that I would give him to read. Not one. I’ve given him 4 books in the past year, one on Rasta, one titled “The Zahir” by Coelho, one “way of the peaceful warrior” by dan Millman, and of course the follow up to that book, “Sacred journey of the peaceful warrior” also by millman. These are books that have changed my life. These silly pages filled with silly words have allowed me to make it through the past year, have given me hope in my darkest hour, and meant so much to me that no, i didn’t go out and buy him his own, I gave him my books. My editions. Pages upon which I have shed tears.
And he didn’t finish one.
When Mr. X told me about Danny Dukes, I happened to be at Kai’s house. Too in shock to cry or mourn or do anything, I left. Kai offered his apologies but that means nothing. Every time someone in our life dies, he feels it is his responsibility to come with the “truth” and immediately starts referring to said friend as a corpse. A wave of the hand and “oh him? he’sa corpse.” Not quite the person you want by your side if you hurt in anyway, because he’s the kind of guy who will laugh at you for feeling. And then offer you weed or beer to ease the “pain.” Once, I told him how concerned I was for a girlfriend who recently found a cancerous tumor on one of her ovaries, and he says “she should just get them taken out, that’s what I did to cali (his dog)”. Well fuck that, that’s not how I’m trying to deal with all of this loss. It just doesn’t feel right. So I didn’t bother calling him when I found out about Moonshine. And I didn’t bother calling him to tell him about my grandfather. No point. Which got me to thinking…..
Why the fuck would I ever call this guy again? Why in gods name would I want this kind of person in my life? Someone who is constantly unhappy, until someone else’s misfortune is greater than his. Then he may smile.
He was out drinking recently with a bunch of friends, and he winds up running into this guy Adrian, who Kai has been harboring some aggression toward for almost 6 months. and why? During the summer, Kai let Adrian borrow his truck to move into A’s new place. Somewhere along the day, Adrian being human, accidently bumps into another car. No damage to Kai’s, medium damage to the other persons, its all covered by insurance, and everything got worked out, but Kai just can’t let it go. It’s eating him alive, the anger and hate he has for this poor guy, just for an accident. So a couple weeks ago, Kai is drinking at one of our local drinking wells, and winds up telling Adrian that he (Kai) hopes that Adrian burns alive and that his wife Jamie has to sit and watch. The fucked up things isn’t just that he said it, but that he meant it. And so A’s little bro came with the quickie and gave Kai exactly what he needed, a busted fucking lip, and a little blow to the ego. So when Kai wakes up, he spends hours yelling about it, complaining about it, both to me and another girlfriend Rye, saying he wants to go burn down A’s house, A inside, etc. etc. blah blah blah, angry venom spewing from this otherwise grubby hippy looking kid. He says that he’s either gonna file a police report of assault, or burn the guys house down, so being the good girls we are, we opt for the cops. There is no point in trying to convince him that it’s his own damn fault, and he probably should have just shut his angry face, how do you convince someone who only sees red that he is the one to blame here? You don’t. You hope the cops show up and laugh in his face and tell him not to be such a dick. But the cops never get that part of the story. Kai also blames Rye, because she happens to be friends with Adrian, and well, why can’t she just fix this, and why the fuck is she friends with these people and what the fuck? This is every situation he gets himself in. Someone is always trying to fuck him over, is fucking him over, or already fucked him over. And the world just owes him.
He made fun of the fish I painted, saying it was boring, and not creative. Who the fuck paints fish? (well…I do….but…..)
He yells at me when I’m weak and smoke cigarettes. Not like friendly, “are you sure?” but like “fuck that that’s fucking disgusting, I thought you were stronger than that,” which really isn’t a good way to approach a “recovering nicotine addict”.
He tells me I’m taking the wrong kind of dance class instead of just being excited that I’m going back to school.
He only wants to hang out when I have weed, want to get high, or have money to buy weed off him to make his weed cheaper.

Why am I telling you all this you may ask? A couple reasons I suppose….
the first being the piece of nicorette chewing gum in my mouth. I am trying to let go of all the things that are bad for me. I’m trying to rid myself of the unhealthy habits I’ve picked up after years of being lazy and thinking myself indestructible. But I have moments of weakness where I look at my hands and realize I am human and I am doing the best I can. So I have come to the point in my life where I am willing to forgive myself for minor mishaps, like a cigarette when I’m drunk, or tears when I’m sad, and if he can’t, well then we can’t be friends.
The second reason is that I want to be able to read this later, maybe tomorrow, maybe a week, maybe two months, and remember why I decided our friendship has come to an end. I want this short note to stir feelings in me that I have pushed away along with his friendship that put me right back in the angry place he leaves me.
Reason three: Every time I go to LA, my friends up there tell me to cool off, chill out….”you need to kick it kitty, fucking Kai’s really getting to ya huh?” Tye n9ne would say, and I would say “what do you mean?”
“every time you see this motherfucker, it takes three days of being by yourself or with other GOOD people for you to lose that tone in your voice, that angry bitter tone that takes over every sentence, and makes it ugly.” Reason three? His angry moods, and tones, and behavior rub off on me. I’m a gentle, fragile soul, and his hatred for life is catching. The only way he hears you is if you speak in angry tones, loud, demanding, brutal tones, that while displaying shades of honesty, showcase cruel and unnecessary truths. I’m hard enough on myself, and I am sad enough about this past year. I don’t need some angry fool helping me to be angrier.
Reason four? I’m beginning to feel like a battered wife…..not in the “he beats me physically” sense, but mentally, yes. He is incredibly abusive. Any of his x girlfriends will tell you the same thing. I don’t need someone to beat me down all day. I don’t need someone telling me my artwork is shit, I know I have a long way to go, please don’t say I’m not creative because I do what I can, and for christsake, what more can you ask?
Reason five? I would rather be alone, with a thousand cats and bamboo plants to keep me company than spend time with him sober. That says everything. I don’t mind him so much when I’m stoned, because I can block out the terrible things he says that I don’t want to hear. But when I’m sober? No, no complacency, no rolling over. I just get pissed. I don’t want to be friends with people that I wouldn’t kick it with sober. Because I like being sober. I like who I am, and I enjoy my life. He brings an ugliness to the table that is unlike anything you’ve ever seen. I don’t ever want to mask my feelings with drugs….even if it is just pot.

Why is this all coming to light?

Because life is fucking short. Life is so fucking short. It could be over in the next ten minutes. the next ten days. the next ten years. Nobody knows, and because of that I want to surround myself with only the most positive, beautiful, joyful people I can. That isn’t to say that I’m gonna bounce when times get tough, or some fair weather bullshit, but I do expect the people in my life to be generally happy people. Because life is a generally happy thing. In fact, even through all this death and trauma, there is a silver lining to my clouds. Tye n9ne still cracks a smile at the mention of Moonshine, even though she is beyond this world. Mr. X always found something positive in Danny, even though the guy had pretty much given up on himself. Even my fucking agent, who is notorious for being a cold hearted monster (who, conversely, I admire and not just because he has made me hundreds of thousands of dollars) can find some beauty and some worth in even the nastiest raunchiest ickiest bitch….and he’ll even make her some $. Even HE can see the beauty underlying it all. Even HE is happy.
Our lives pass with the clouds, one moment they are here, storming in the sky and raining on our parades, and the next, blue skies and sunshine and it’s over. I don’t want to look back and think, “why on earth did I let this guy get to me?” If we hadn’t been friends for so long, I would have cut him years ago. I would have ended it when he began to resent me for developing a cocaine problem.
Well, I’m done now. I don’t want to play anymore, and the decision, although sad, does not make me sorry. Its like I’m closing a chapter of my life. I’m leaving all the pain and sorrow of the past year in the past. Where it belongs. The lessons will follow me throughout life; love life, let love, and let go. But I will not allow something so hateful steer my ship into the future. I will not allow one mans anger and spite change the expression on my face when I wake up. I am cutting all hateful, resentful, and angry people from my life. I don’t care if I have to start remaking friends at zero…..
But I’m not. And its that juxtaposition that makes me aware of the people still in my “circle”. its that contradicting vibe that permeates my skin, and my soul. There are millions of wonderful beautiful people in this world, and most of them will be down to be friends with me.
I refuse to let myself believe any longer that because of the “time span” of our friendship, it has to continue. Because it ended a long time ago. Shame I just realized it now.

I started baking today with the intention of making cookies filled with sugar and love. Instead, the cookies and treats provided me with the only comfort of the day, just the busyness of making them, the timing, the mixing, the rolling.
I found out this afternoon that a buddy died last Saturday night. That was the night that the waves were crazy high, crashing at 15 feet, out of control, and they closed the pier because the ocean had damaged it in such a way that left the wobbly structure unsafe. After an evening of drinking, and a grand finale 5th of Wild Turkey, the homies mikey and Nello decided to take on the wrath of Poseidon himself, and in their board shorts. After they jumped the fence that was designed to keep such hooligans out, they ran the half-mile down to the T of the pier and both jumped. Mikey says he talked to Nello the whole way in, up the last point where mikey caught a wave and believed Nello did the same. Mikey woke up on the beach in a heap of kelp, alone. No Nello.
So he went to the lifeguard, hoping he had seen something. Nothing.
Nello’s friends and his sister filed a missing persons report and waited all Sunday. Nello’s body washed ashore late Sunday, leaving the lifeguards to believe that he had been pretty close to shore when it all ended. Close enough that it didn’t take the 3-5 days they expected. It took one. Nello’s sis had to call her parents and let them know. Both moved down here earlier this year, and have been such awesome kids that fit perfectly into the group of crazy cats I run with. What a shame. what a sad sad loss. I feel so terrible for his sister. They were so close. She has to be dying.
So I spent the whole day baking. Cookies. Truffles. Cakes. Bread. Whatever the fuck it took to not break down and cry. But I did anyway. I sat in my kitchen and cried. Like a big fucking baby. When will it end, this horrible fucking year? Because it obviously isn’t going to get any better…..I mean, progressively worse is one thing. But this? It’s insane! ENOUGH WITH THE DEATH ALREADY PLEASE. They say bad things come in 3, but this has been one shitty fucking year man, and there have been no three’s unless we’re speaking exponentially. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of everyone dying around me, tired of friends getting so fucked up they kill themselves. I understand that life is precious, and am thankful for every moment but isn’t this a tad bit excessive?
And to top it all off, I just found out my only living grandfather is on his deathbed too. So, I’m going to go visit him tomorrow, and hopefully he’s lucid, and hopefully I don’t have some emotional breakdown that will just aggravate the whole situation.
Because I am trying my best to float peacefully through these tumultuous times, but with every death, i feel as though a little piece of my humanity goes as well. Little bits of me that were previously hurt by such things build tiny little invisible walls to block out the fact that I will miss these people. And I try and remain positive, and subjective. And I try and tell myself that death is the ultimate climax of our lives, the only proof that we have lived, and I try and believe that we don’t leave, and instead simply change. But its hard.
It’s really hard, and no matter how much I try, I can’t help but feel like something was lost. Something….

What a little week. Well, not so much the full thing yet, but from Sunday to Wednesday, accomplishment flows through my veins. And you’ll be happy when ya find out why….I just shot a bunch more content for the site! HAHA! yes. ANd whats even more exciting is that my web guy is coming down tomorrow to shoot even more content, and set up web cams in my casa. Just in the kitchen and second bedroom, but the second bedroom is where I paint, and I’m even contemplating a stripper pole, fuck, no contemplation actually, I should just put together a “Pennys second bedroom stripper pole” fund. If you love me, please send me $20.00 at
po box 502427
san diego, ca. 92150-2427
and I will put all the money in a bucket, or a shoebox if I’m feelin real ghetto, and then once I have all that it takes, which isn’t much I don’t think, somewhere around $400.00, then the second bedroom’s coolness will grow and grow and grow, as will my awesome power of pole tricks, and other stripper oriented feats. Yes. Stripper feats.
Feet. I’m gonna do a bunch foot stuff….maybe a little shoe fashion show one day?
I’m glad to be home. I’ve been in LA, work monday, confusion and frustration making way for an enlightening tuesday, and lessons learned tuesday were applied to my evening tonight. After a long day at work, 10 different photo sets, and 5 videos, the feeling of accomplishment came when I made an executive decision regarding my immediate future.
Tuesday I wanted to go snowboarding with this man, who is really a diamond in the rough, but he felt like poopoo, so we both figured it would be better for him to take it easy and rest. Diamond has a hectic month ahead, and the last thing he needs is to get sick. But I stuck around the valley with intentions of kicking it, maybe watching a movie. I may have overextended myself when I invited him to the Dali Exhibit. If he didn’t want to go snowboarding, he probably didn’t feel up to some crazy art exhibit that I’m gonna wanna play at all day, and he wouldn’t be able to see it comfortably anyway. But I was excited, and asked anyway. No such luck. Ended up chillin around the valley solo, reading the newspaper at the Bean, doing a little christmas shopping, and playing a couple games of chess with a new friend from the pot store. Finally, I went back out to Tye N9nes house in fucking China, tired of waiting in the valley. Waiting for what I don’t really know in retrospect. But very rarely do I know what moves I’m making while I’m making them. I just go with what feels right.
Tonight, after I got off work, I hollered at Diamond, who was out at our friends funeral. I told D I would stay around to give him a hug before I took off, and then went to dinner with Tye N9nes dad to take up some time. I Heezy, nothing better than pancakes for dinner. After the date with dad, I cruised up to Tye neezy’s again, to watch him open the christmas present I got him. (Raiders Monopoly Set, fucking gangster). By 10 pm, I was tired of waiting. Tired period. I figured Diamond had gone out with some folks fromt he funeral, or had passed out entirely as is his classic style. So imagine my surprise when he calls me just as I’m getting on the 5 south from the 14. Well fancy that you little shiny stone, what are you doing. So I hop on the freeway going his way, not yet knowing where he is, but knowing i’m kinda in need of a hug too. We talk, and he says that he is okay, not too shook up, and if I’m cruisin, keep cruisin. But then he said that he will call me later and if I’m in town we’ll meet up, and if not then another day. Click, conversation fini, okay. What the fuck does that mean? If he knows I’m on the way back to SD, then why make a statement enticing me to stay in town? Is this because he wants me to stick around? Is it because he is just being nice and making conversation? I don’t understand “man” vernacular sometime, and so call my bestest bestest Snuggs.
Me “Snuggs, what the heck does he want from me here? I said I’d stick, he said no biggie, but then said….etcetc….”
Snuggs “Of course he wants you to stay bun, and he wants to see you. You are a bun bun.”
Me “No, you are a bun bun. But that doesn’t answer anything for me”
Snuggs “Bun, it doesn’t matter what he wants you to do, do what you want to do”
Me “rrrrr”

I wanted to see him all the day before and didn’t get to. I had waited till 10 to see him tonight, and it didn’t happen. Its time for me to take a hint that this isn’t the way we are supposed to meet up. The universe isn’t pulling for this to work right now, so don’t try and force it little freckled one. Simply follow the signs, and the forces of nature will take you where you need to go.
So I turned around at reseda and the 118, and started back home. When I was getting on the 5 south from the 118, I saw a shooting star, which I can only assume is a good sign. I’m doing the right thing. I start thinking, what if he calls, what do I say, what if he doesn’t call, do I care, why do I think I have any right to care, or place any importance on any conversation, or feeling as small or big as I deny them to be, the glare of lights occasionally startling me into consciousness, reminding me of the journey at hand.
When I decided that this is the best idea, me leaving and just going home, I also realized if we are meant to be together, and spend time together, and love together, then the world and the energy in it will push us together in such a way that neither can deny. And if it isn’t meant to be, well then we will be split apart, and that will be that. No amount of analyzing, or over-thinking can deliver the answer I want; I don’t know what answer I want. Therein lies the problem. But it is only a problem if I treat it that way. Instead, I need to treat it like an adventure. And be okay with the fact that I don’t know how this will go. This life. As these thoughts danced through my mind, a second falling star danced through the sky.
The mind settled, although didn’t quiet entirely, it was enough to remind myself of this newly acquired outlook. Follow the signs. this lane doesn’t feel right, think I will switch…..good thing too because there were two vehicles stopped in that lane and the ambulance and cops hadn’t marked it off yet, careening down the 5 at 85 mph, hard to tell if cars are moving. Easy to tell how still they are when you speed past, heart racing, almost a fatal accident. Follow your feelings. Quite ignoring your feelings. Admit you have feelings. As I pulled onto the last stretch of my drive, the last 2 miles, a third shooting star broke through my veil of emotional darkness. The brightest shooting star I have ever seen in Southern California, and by far a cap to an evening of omens.
I know we will spend time together. I was stressed, like you know me to be, but I’m letting go. I have been working on letting go. On breathing. and accepting. I figure I will fall into his arms when the time is right, and not a moment before.
Son cosas de la vida…..

yup, finally going in to dance tonight. After the longest week of my life, its time to finish it all off with the strippers hustle. I gotta learn you guys, I gotta learn. Do you want a dance? Do you want a dance? Do you want a dance? Just keep saying it. Fuck everything else. YOu aren’t going to make friends. You aren’t going to “have fun!”. you are going to make money. So go make your money girl.
Last week started on a sunday for me, instead of your regular monday. I came up to see a buddy of mine who took off to Europe for a minute. So after a fantastic dinner, and some good conversation, I crashed like a light, getting ready for my shoot for Triangle monday. Of course, Triangle is a great day. I make love to my girl Elixis, who is now going by savannah gold I believe, and although we have known eachother for over 6 years, this is the first time we were actually together. The sex was fantastic. Sensuous. Loving. Intimate. I suppose it should be after 6 years of foreplay….
Tuesday I thought I had some work, so I hung out for awhile. Then, finally getting curious, I call the office to find that my job for Stormy over at Wicked is actually on Wednesday, not Tuesday, so Tuesday is wasted. Go to the gym. Go hang out with TyeN9ne, who is actually trying to get his shit together, and spruce up his life. HIs goose. hehehe. geese. Well, we have some yumyum dindin, and a couple brews with a couple of his friends. Next morning, we wake up and mash down to the valley to have coffee with his pops before they start work at 8. I gotta be in at 9 anyway. well, I gotta go by vivid, and pick up my movies around 9, (did you guys see??? 6 avn nominations????fucking pumped!!!), then to stormys set by 9:30, which of course I make in plenty of time. The only shitty thing is that the wrap for the day is scheduled at 1:30. Terrifying. Nobody ever runs on time… except of course Stormy. Stormy may be the only train in porn valley that runs on time. Good woman. She had me dressed up as a cop, and the production manager had to keep wrangling me from going outside and “accidently impersonating an officer”. All I wanted to do was smoke a blunt out front in my cop outfit while directing traffic. But NOOOOOOO. no fun for me. He actually took my gun AND my baton. And its obvious you aren’t a cop if you don’t have a gun or a baton. Whatever.
I drive home to SD, getting in around 1, smoking a blunt and passing out by 2. Thursday, I have to move the rest of my shit out of my old apartment into my new apartment. I have to do it all Thursday. All of it. So I holler at my sister and her boyfriend and fortunately they come through and help me out. We get it all in, rearrange some things to their pad downtown, and have the uhual back by 7:30pm. Dinner. Should I drive back to LA? rrrr……i’m so tired. Fuck it. Ima get my ass outta bed first thing in the morning and run.
4:00a.m. alarm screaming. Roll over smack it snooze it. only ten more minutes mom.
4:10a.m. alarm screaming. Roll over smack it snooze it. only ten more minutes mom.
4:20a.m. alarm screaming. Roll over…..4:20 is my favorite time, so get you ass in the shower, wash that dirty sleepy body of yours, and get your ass on the road. Coffee. Don’t bring your weed flame or you will be passed out driving to the valley by 7am. Like I made it to the valley by 7am. If you live in southern california, you know that the most dangerous natural disaster we have is rain. It makes people drive like idiots, and fucks up the freeways. LA wasn’t built for rain, so the whole fucking thing floods. Sliding slipping, crashing cars the whole way up the 5. I take it to the 605, try to loop around LA only to have to fight traffic coming in from San Bernadino. 605 to the 210 to the 118 all the way over to De Soto, call the office, sorry I’m late guys, will you call Bobby for me? Rush rush rush, flood flood flood. Upside down cars. Jackknifed mac trucks. It takes me 4 hours and 45 minutes to drive 120 miles.
Work, no problem. Brooke Haven that sexy bitch, and a new guy ralph long, walk in the park. For Brassers. Think that’s how it’s spelled. mmmm.
the whole time I had been texting with a sexy man from my past, one who is slowly shrinking due to a new diet, and love of life, who’s name has been changed to protect the innocent. No, I believe his name changed because my perspective of him changed. As Coelho says “He was quite different from the boy I had known-but of course, it had been twelve years; people change. Tonight his eyes were shining–he looked wonderful”. So I watched him for awhile, as he had never really let me watch him before. He had tried to show me a couple times, whether it was pictures, or posters, or even some video, but none it is the same as sitting and observing someone. Watching their twitches, the expression in the eyes when one things he isn’t being watched. The determination that oozes from his pores. Interesting man. Intriguing. Enticing. Never before have I seen him. smelled him. He is new. perhaps I am as well.
After a nice dinner, and perhaps one of the most awkward goodbyes ever (do I hug you and kiss you? do I kiss you then hug you? do I put my lips on your lips like I want to or do I hold back and behave myself like I should? here, let me just oops, those were your lips, on mine, hehehe….okey, let me do that again, oh, cheek, okay, hug hug, um……just run away). I am terribly awkward. Terribly. But he understands. He knows. I am only me.
So then off to the pot store, for a little taste of heaven before I hit the road back home to SD. after a good little session, (my first smoke of the day mind you), I decide a vanilla latte and i’m on my way. Right as soon as I hit the highway I felt as though if I may burst. Full of confused feelings. Where am I going? Home. Why am I going there? because I miss it. And I love it. And I want to go home.
You feel like home.
And so today, after sleeping till noon, the first time in years, I woke, made some peets coffee, cleaned the little bullshit things that I needed to, ate, napped, showered and am here, trying my best to update you on my week. And I feel as though….well….its time for something to happen. Time for something in my life to drastically change. I feel it in the air. In the temperature of my soul. In the ocean, which was crazy today, turbulent, angry, crashing, violent, until its energy was spent, and waves lapped gently against the rocks below my house as the sun set on another day in San Diego.

The whole Sugardaddy thing. I can’t do it. I can’t even think about it. Taryn can have em all cuz, well, wow. Sorry, let me gather myself and figure out what just happened.
My inconvenient truth is that I just don’t feel right about looking for someone based upon their income. My greed can’t overcome the icky feeling in my tummy every time I look at emails. Its just not for me. For other people, but not for me. If I want companionship, or something to do that bad, I can do like the rest of America and sign up for an actual dating website that hooks you up with someone based on personality and likes and not how much someone is willing to spend on me a month. I have a fucking job. God gave me two arms and two legs just like everybody else on this earth, and there is nothing stopping me from going out and getting shit for myself by myself. Even if its stripping, at least I’m out and “providing a service,” not just sitting behind my computer sending kisses to men I don’t like and never could simply on the merits of the website. I’m sure there are some very nice men there too, but I don’t think these men are for me. Presents always stress me out, because my twisted little brain associates spoiling with buying off, don’t try and buy me off man! I don’t even like guys to buy me drinks, who am I kidding thinking that I could actually have a sugardaddy. ME? There must be some underlying thing here, something deeper. Because I don’t do weird things and sign up for shit like this ever. Its never been me. And it never will.
I feel like I’ve slowly transforming into this little monster who spends and consumes and eats and shits and fucks and none of it every satisfies so why perform such meaningless rituals. In the name of comfort? When did this whole thing start I wonder? When did the NEED develop? Because today, I found myself checking the sugardaddy email inbox, and almost writing someone back, almost committing to hello, but then pushing the close button each time. This last time, frantically scrolling over my menu bar, gotta find something else to fucking look at I feel sick in my stomach. Blep. So here I am. Writing to you. And I’m already starting to feel better. I think I am going to delete my account entirely. I would rather work 30 hour days 40 days a month than demand someone take care of me. Too much pride shiny little penny.
So I am going to dance tonight at Cheetahs. If you want a lapdance, then I will take your money. Sure. No problem. Come on in. And to any sugardaddys, keep on keepin on man. It will never be enough. You can’t feed the beast inside of her. No amount of your money or work will ever make her just love you. it will just make her more thirsty. and when shes had her fill she will wander away, coming back only to refuel her fire. more more more more more more more more more more. and if you are okay with that then I am okay with that, but a beautiful woman will love you for you, only you, and the you can both enjoy your sugaryness, but man, no rose colored shades can make me see this in a pretty way. It just makes me feel icky, it makes me feel like I don’t like people, like the greed will just grow and grow and grow and more and more and more.
Well, I don’t need more. I don’t even want more.