Social Be honest, how hot are you?

I'm fairly decent looking, due to taking care of myself.
I think overall vibe is my strong suit & I’m financially secure/well.

At 42 I'm better shape than in my mid/late 20s (getting in 35 to 50 miles a week running) & lifting 4 to 6 days a week.
My aim is longevity; staying strong & aging well.

Meh... i'm pretty happy where I’m at comparing myself to my own past. (only measuring stick one should use).

I can honestly say I'm fairly happy where I’m at dating wise atm.

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TeTe said:
I interned for a writer while I was in college that interned for Kesey.

True story.

I also met Tom Wolfe while I was in college. He had a lot of cool things to say about Hunter Thompson when I brought him up.
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That is awesome, I didn't know if you were just fucking with or taking a poke. My initial Shakespeare professor studied under Leslie Fiedler, who was actaully a pretty good critic and his books are universe. He also came up with wild shit that drove people nuts. He wrote Love and Death in the American Novel, among some other things, that is stalwart curriculum, but actually pretty sold angle of vision on a ton of shit. Heavy hitter at the alma mater. God, but for the time, I would have loved to have been in his class. I got thrown out the fucking first day of the retiring Shakespeare teacher's class. I was dumbfounded. If he would've saw where I was six months earlier and what it took for some good people to fast track me into his class out of respect, and with all his knowledge, he was egotistical little boy. It still bothers me it had to come down to personalities in second. I'll skip the details but, it took a mountain to get in there, I had a wife and kids and away from home to participate, I was there off an injury in a lumber mill and everyone was shoving me into college, thankfully, I was Archie Bunker about educations, to a degree still am, but man there is no smartass streetwise substitution for going to college.

paragraph, and appy polly logies on the novella, must seem to anyone here that I blather incessantly about the electricity of spider webs, but I got nowhere else to go with this shit. You have no idea, just on the silly off-shit, how many times someone says, Jesus Christ, you ever thought of writing something down (or talking to a therapist)?. Well, yeah, I've been doing that for twenty years.

Fiedler wrote "Come back to the raft, Huck, Honey," which, just the title tells you all. In the day that was a fucking sledgehammer. Agree or disagree, you have to respect the critical nuts. He was also sitting at a plane terminal one day and Joseph Campbell was sitting next to him and they talked for a couple hours. Granted, it's just "I was friends with a guy who knew the guy," but if you love history as I do, and can be a sentimental fuck, little things mean shit and there's an electric finger, in my eyes.

I mean, Archie Bunker (I have the 'Old Ironside' framed clipper ship that hangs in front of A. Bunker's house by the coats in front of my door, my mom and grandma were garage sailing, out of state, and I was reading A Lion in the Path on Maupassant, and grandma drags me out to look, and as we're leaving and everyone's in the car, there's a fucking framed Old Ironside, I jerked her out of the car, I was a kid maybe had ten bucks, I literally have no idea what it cost, maybe it was six bucks, but I drug her out of the car, haha, and said, you have to buy me this, this is the, the whole trip put me in front of this and that's that. Has always hung right beside my door entrance all these years, no matter where.

My Shakespeare professor introduced Carroll O'Conner to his wife at the U of M. Absolutely nothing to do with me being alive, but somehow I take pride, leave me alone.
 
Drunken Meat Fist said:
FUCK ....you......Anyone with a young Neal Cassady avatar, God bless ya, but maybe listen to your wife.
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Hey, by the way, brother. Did you know that during the fucking pandemic they actually published the Joan Anderson Letter? I was watching a documentary on Neal Cassady after reading all the biographies, and out of nowhere this beautiful jackass holds up this book and I threw cheetos all over the place and probably farted a g-note on the flugelhorn. The Holy Grail of the Beat Generation. It's what gave Kerouac his voice, the "Holy Grail" was Jack and Allen's term for the letter that was supposed to have been drown and lost forever. It was like 20 bucks, luckily I had some money and don't have to Fred Garvin anymore. Money means nothing for certain things. In my dark years, I gave a little girl $175 because she knocked on my door and handed me a dandelion. I wish I could do that every day.
 
There was this guy. Substitute professor, he was rehashing transcendentalists and neither of wanted to be there. And so we're talking after class about the Beats, and turns out he was best friends with Gary Snyder (do read RipRap), and he drank with Kerouac and Snyder and Ferlinghetti and Neal in San Francisco and Los Gatos. We went to an outside town and were Vodka Cranberries, and it occurs to me after he mentions the movie Prick Up Your Ears, no judge. but this guy may be trying to pick up on me. There was never an advance, and he had a wife and kids, but the thought kiboshed a second hang out. Good guy, with tons of stories. Reminds me now of what's his ass, who played Doc Ock, Alfred Molina
 
I went to a bar with a buddy. I didn't want to go. He said I just wanna gamble, you gamble on my money and I buy all the drinks. ...well, fuck, what am I, made of stone. The audacity puts a cigarette out on reply. It was a matter of principle. I don't wanna gamble so I push his money in his face and start a tab. He gets so drunk, he's throwing up in a bucket while still playing two machines. He can't walk, there's a drunk girl in my ear, she says I'll get us home. I say, dude he just bought this convertible Mustang, top's down. I'm not leaving it here. I've been arrested in this exact parking lot like 425 times, the suns coming up. We get him in the car, he pukes all over everything,and then again as I'm driving like it's a Sherman tank. I'm going like two miles an hour and I can't stop. Somehow we make it home and all consciousness is gone. At some point, next day or so, it's still pitch black, I go to piss and bumble the situation, cars home, buddy is killing nazis in his sleep in the far back room. Grab a beer, drag the case across the floor into the bedroom, piss, crawl in bed, naked girl curls around me like a crab in the dark. I guzzle my beer open a new one, turn on the tv, and this

 
I remember trying to focus and still be cool. What the fuck happened? She said you fucking dummy, serious? ...no...She said it was Karoeke night, and you were at the bar, I was singing Shake it Off and you were talking to some old man, and I had on white pants and stuck your hand in my pocket and said you're coming home with me, but first the bathroom. hahaha, I said that worked? She said not at first but I brought you back to our table and you went over to the pool table and were schmaltzing with these old bikers and saying shit like French felt negates the English and stopping mid shot to sniff in the air, and all this dumb shit. It was a good night, everyone was on the same page, those don't happen anymore, shit tons more, and I still king ding dong here so I'm sure I posted the night in some forum deep in the recesses. She had one of the nicest asses I've ever seen. She was a 6 in the face, which I don't mean, but reference to you. We were together qutie awhile, it was like biblical test thing. She could not be any sweeter, she had a wrecking ball for a body, totally devoted. She had been babysitting this guy's daughter, and he came home and wanted to fuck her and she wouldn't so he slapped the hell out of her and kicked her into the street.

We're laying in bed. Twenty minutes ago I thought I was alone. I turned on the light, yeah, she did the make up, but it was all there. Turned off the light, she's under my arm. no words, we drift off. ...she gets up, goes pee, comes back with a beer in the dark, opens it and hands it to me. All sounds so dramatic, but just bare bones. I sit up and am drinking the beer, she's rubbing my back looking at my crazy wall. ...the kids are still there aren't they. She doesn't say anything. I drink the beer, and another beer. For all my bloviation, I don't want to die today. This is an old farm road I don't need to be on.
Then, something about just being quiet, while I'm trying to navigate my brain and personality. You just give a sigh. I rememeber Joseph Campbell had a female student at Sarah Lawrence who wrote something he thought was good, so he backed her. The powers that be said, she's not good enough, another time. He said okay. I rescind my book. She said no! you can't do that, my book isn't worth your book. He said it's not about you. When you know who you are, you are, you don't have to make so many decisions, they make themselves.
I read a lot, but it's only reading if it doesn't mean anything. So death wish boy, we get the little girl. The guy calls and gonna kill me. You can't kill what's dead. I'm not one of the little kids, you'll find me. I'll get dressed now. I got nowhere in the world to be. ...He never showed, but about a week later she went back to get her stuff when she assured me he would be gone. And i met her at the hospital, he beat her half to death and left her naked in the road. She came home with me, the guy and the little girl left the planet.
 
in the event some someone might still be out there. We got the girl back to my place. she was just a shellshocked little kid. It was one of Conor's early fights in the UFC, and we were watching the preamble, I said, Iah, don't know, I think this Irish guy's gonna get creamed, what do you think, she says no way, I said what do you wanna bet. She said, If I lose, I'll clean your entire house. I said if I lose? I get to cut your hair like Conor McGregor. ...So I had the Conor topknot for a couple weeks. I thought she was going for the Jeep. The girl and I, we weren't the ones, but could have gone on for a hell of a long time. I can't say a negative thing, she may have saved my life. There's no hesitation in my saying I'm world class drinker, some things don't need to be said.

She was damage, everyone who'd ever been with her had traumatized her and kicked the shit out of her. It wasn't like I was shackled with her, any guy alive when they think of a dream girl, she had all that shit, and wasn't just a shell or Stepford, I wish she was here almost every day of my life. it was just, there wasn't the magic. And she was soo wounded. We drank around the clock forever, and had an impervious pocket of time. And there's thirty great stories to relate, but we were on the couch one day. I made enough money from Sherdog to support us in perpetuity. I just said, we have to come up for air, it's alright, nothing changes, we can come back, but we need to ease up and get some rest here and there. We can do this til the candle goes out but lets get some rest. She was in deep trauma, and nightmares and whenever she relaxed and let it go, she'd wake up under my arm and jump 20 feet in the air. I know what PTSD is, but she was ruined. She talked candidly with me in the nights, but I think there was even more. I'm not a fluff guy, but it bothers me I didn't have more couth, just another arrogant asshole. I told her that, and she said I wouldn't have have went home with you just for that, you were being a character and you sat at a table with all my girls, and when you went to the bathroom, they all said, yeah, you should go home with him.

I have some great stories, some that I probably posted in real time, the last one, there's this huge titted brunette, I don't remember where we met, but she would ride her bike to my place in like two minutes at all hours, and usually with a bottle of something. She drank with me, but wasn't a big drinker. We drank all the time, but it was never here deal. I gotta say, for any bachelor in the world. If you have a brunette with giant tits randomly day or night banging on your door with a bottle. I wasn't where I wanted to be, and most of our relationship she caught me at between 2 and 48 percent. She had this body, but she was also like a witch, not like a wicken, or astrologer, she didn't have a clue or give two shit's about witchcraft. Like any good witch, she didn't care and had the natural maloik. She was no fucking joke. She too had a good heart and guys just wanted her tits. She was a weird one, but nothing bad ever happened. I can't think of a negative thing to say, for a couple years she would just pop over. She did have like Tom Hardy eyes when she locked in, she was about 5'8 and her tits were like boulders. We'd be watching a movie and I'd give her the cheesy scan and she'd immediately break out one of the tits and dislocate my elbow.

I have that feeling that I'm carrying on and no one's ever gonna read this but me, rightfully so. So,there's an episode in the story, where the previous girl with the greatest ass of all time, well, she hasn't been feeling good, legit, she doesn'f feel or look like shit. There was never a break up, just a drift and understanding that you are welcome, I care for you a lot, you could live here forever, I don't care. So as in all good movies, there's a torrential rain storm, like Malcolm Lowry, ...and she calls and says just got off work I'll be there in a minute.

I have done nothing wrong, and they know about each other. I'm not a piece of shit. .....well for sure there's nobody reading now. fuck it.

She knock, it's a King Lear end of world thunderstorm, the sky is gone but noises grumbling gods that scares animals, and anyone with with water content. So she comes in, gives me a big hug, puts the booze in the freezer and goes to my bedroom bathroom. She keeps clothes here, she comes out in this little black number I'm sure she attempted to size for herself, and she was not vain person, it didn't bother her that she had great tits, and she loved and sank in, like any girl, when you love who they are, she would just melt. But when you know everybody just sees you as tits, ...it don't take a genius and it don't take a dummy, the approach, I almost never acknowlege her boobs, and after awhile it's driving her out of her fucking mind. We/re post coital one night and she says. I know you love my boobs, but you've never once said anything about my boobs. I said, I'm a little kid pretending to be a man, your boobs haunt my dreams, like every other guy.

So we're back on the couch, under a blanket, my little dog is still alive on her bed, they both love one another.. I csn almost remember the movie. She's under my arm in her black extremely confused and fabrically challenged doily, ...time ticks, and then there's a cough, she looks at me for the longest time as I stare at the tv. To shorten things up, she looks at me, gets up in her black doily and our cover, and goes back.
She is back there taking care of her, I got to pee in the bathroom, come out and sit beside her on this old recliner. I just feel I should stfu, "sometimes nothin's a pretty cool hand" ....big boobs reaches over after awhile and holds my hand. A few minutes later the sick on grabs my other hand. And to nip it in the bud, there was never a threesome, she was sick. It never crossed my mind...til later, but life is good why shit on things.

So, we're back on fhe couch, watching the movie, and after awhile sick girl comes out to get a drink, hugs to all. Then she calls, I go back, ,,,she, I see why you dumped me, I like her, she''s nice, and she's got the nicest boobs in the world. I said, we we'ren't a fluke, you're not a fluke, she's not a fluke, we all like each other, we're all alive and have booze enough to kill a saint. In my life right now, there is no either/or, you're both good people, I care for you both, I never promised you a rose garden, I'm doing the best I can without jumping off a cliff.
More stories of the two, not a bunch, maybe three.

Life was quite, don't know how she found me, but big booms knocked on my door in a rainstorm with a bottlle. She was pretty lit up , it' was about 1 a.m. hadn't seen her in a few years, without missing a beat, she gave me the longest hug in the world, put the bottle in the fridge, went pee, came and sat by me in the dark. No words forever. Then she says, everybody wants to screw me, all the time. I live for words and communication, but sometimes just being quiet, words can't find the way in.

I said, I'm not much different, I'm nothing to come running to. You know how I feel about you, but I kinda want to sleep with you every time I see you too. ....there is no secret to me, i just try really hard to be genuine and not just a piece of shit.
 
Depends on how attracted you are to Fedor.
 
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