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.

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.

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.

Another thought I had is that I’m not going to realistically be able to attend school this semester. It was a bit of a rash decision, and although it was great in that it broke the ice as far as me going back, I don’t really want to go to school down here. I’m thinking I should shoot a bit closer to work, I mean, it made sense to me on the train down, if I have one thing that keeps me in one place, why don’t I try and schedule two things in that one place. I can’t be running up and down southern california trying to fuck everyone and learn something. Its too much motion. I need to treat SD as it is for me. A vacation. Los Angeles is my job. San Francisco is my heart. So I am thinking about withdrawing from this semester, and enrolling in the fall up in the valley. UCLA perhaps? Before I start making commitments, I need to sit down and decide what I want to spend my time, energy and money on, and I can’t just rush into things with my head down. Not knowing where it is I’m trying to go. It’s like getting on the 101 and trying to go to work but not knowing what town I’m fucking in. Can’t do it.

Two more brief thoughts, and a closing story from the train station.
I am going to try my hand at a script. I figure, hey, silly funny porno script can’t be too hard right? I mean fuck, writing about sex, fucking, lying, cheating, fucking some more, story story story, I’m in enough of em right? Took a screen writing class once, at UCSD, actually sat in on it, couldn’t get credit cuz I wasn’t enrolled but the teacher was dope and extended the personal invite, so fuckit, scoot over, lemme sit down. Got the style down. Good with dialogue. Maybe? Why not? Maybe even just to have something to do…
I would like to start directing again at some point. Why the fuck not right? I had a great time doing shit for Shanes World, and just because an issue came up, I shouldn’t nix it off my future to do list. I had a great time. Man. It would probably work even better if it wasn’t all about getting fucked up, and now that I’m not really getting that fucked up, it would be that much easier. Brilliant. Now the question is…..who’s gonna let me But really, thats not the approach I am going to take. I’m going to sit back and chill and I think what will come will come, and if the opportunity doesn’t arise, then its a sign that things are as they should be.

I Had a strange moment at Union Station tonight. Upon entering, one couldn’t help but notice the guy in hand cuffs right outside the traxx care. Behind the cafe is a small sitting area where a mexican guy is chillin with two little white freckly lookin kids. I go get my ticket, and then back to traxx for a goodnight glass of syrah pre-train. Well, I start sipping my wine, back to the whole situation, (drug dogs kind of make me nervous, not even because I had anything, but just because i feel guilty, usually am hahahah), and the little boy starts flirting with me. He’s like 6 years old, and all smiles, and his little bro who’s about 3 is passed out on the Mexicans lap. I smile at the guy, flirt with the kid (funny ugly face contest, he beat me ten times in a row, and then he started blowing kisses) and the Mexican guy tells me while nodding at the guy in cuffs, “that’s their dad….I kinda got stuck watching these little kids. I just can’t leave em”. So I have the 6 year old (sean) come over by my chair and hang out for a little bit, figure give the guy a break. Sean tells me his moms in jail, and I tell him my moms been to jail too. he smiles, and looks up at the ceiling, which brings me to look at the ceiling, just as he says, “look, I got you flowers”, talking about the tile flowers in between the wooden beams supporting the whole magnificent structure. I laugh and tickle him and say “Why yes you did, and they are just lovely”. Then the kid runs over to his pops, and stands in front of him and puts his arms out, telling the cops “thats my dad”.
The Mexican said the guy just went straight to the bar and got trashed. Quit watching his kids.

Fucking sad, cuz these were some cool kids.

I gave Sean a hug and the Mexican a handshake, after telling him he’s got some seriously good karma coming his way. I ran to catch my train home.

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.

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?

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.