Month: December 2016 (Page 1 of 8)

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Dawn_of_man, 20
Looking for some one that has dildos. I want to get my ass stretched to the max. I would love to take a huge dildo. I’m into dildos. I love getting my ass stretched with large dildos. I love having my hole gaped open and left gurgling. Im looking to get to have deep anal penetration with large dildos. The more dildos the better. Sex is not a must. I will bristle if you say I’m loose.

 

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darthgaydar, 24
Hey I am 6ft 3 inches tall and smooth all over
I possess a micropenis with tiny balls too
I like to go out have fun and go out for dinner
I am straight but if you are gay that is fine

 

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bornsomeones, 18
Merry Christmas Masters!

Im a goody two shoes teen whos fantasy is to roleplay as a juvenile delinquent that receives reformatory whippings on the bare butt with a strap, paddle or cane.

Example scenes:
~ up to 36 strokes of the tawse on the bare breech like was given to delinquent teen boys in Scotland.
~ up to 12 strokes of the reformatory cane like in English schools or the Royal Navy.
~ Canadian prison strap for breaking rules in juvenile detention.
~ Hard wooden paddle for American style school or domestic discipline.

Not looking for any form of sex.
Also warning that my cock might not get hard.. been having problems

Stats:
Age 18
Height 5’4″
Weight 8st 9lbs
Smooth body
Small cut endowment

 

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aphextwink, 19
I am feminine something from the heart of Russia.
I have ever feel deep inside me since I was very young I was a dog.
Time flies and feel now it is time to find my dogtrainer.
I want to eat in dog bowl only dog food once a day.
I want to live in a dog kennel.
I want to go as far as possible and at the end have only a dog mind and delete my human one.
I wanna be dog micro chipped too.

Comments

aphextwink – Dec 11, 2016
@pantsuit, I do not want your mother to die but I am so tired of men like you.

pantsuit – Dec 4, 2016
i will kill my own mother to slide just my tongue in side you mouth you so beautiful!!!!!!

 

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twink4fatdaddy, 20
Restrain me, spank me, fuck me, choke me out in that order.

Now with all that out of the way, I want to say hi.

 

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bedheadboy, 21
I like to get raped and MAKE LOVE ALSO.
I have the biggest cock in Thailand probably because I’m not Thai.
I won’t fuck you and you can’t suck my cock.
But I can talk all night long about the importance of Euripides to contemporary theater or debate to what extent Pina Bausch revolutionized dance.
PLEASE RAPE ME UNCONTROLLABLY, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.

Comments

Ownershipislife – Nov. 29, 2016
I misread your name as “beheadboy” and was about to write to you but never mind ):

bedheadboy – Nov. 27, 2016
god, I so agree, YES!

MwB – Nov. 27, 2016
Do you agree that perpetuating the Pina Bausch Company after her death has led to insufficiently rigorous performances that are not only a disservice to her work but ultimately harm her legacy?

 

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Readilyavailable1998, 21
bout Me:
My name is Olly I live in Blackpool. My interests are learning anything cool to do with psychology.

My Sex Life:
I need someone who will make sure im the best version of me because that makes me happy.

What am i looking for?
The only thing i need is someone who will reel me in when im getting stupid and who is fine with how gaurded i am. If you can put up with my temper tantrums and bad ideas im all urs.

Want To Message Me?
What you must remember is im a brat and therefore I am going to tell a million jokes twist all ur words and wind you up.

Likes:
I like doms who want to know lots about me.

Comments

Siggi – Dec 17, 2016
The slave boy with golden hair…:-)
He was with me today …
A slave is not a subject – behind the slave stands a human being. And I had the honor to fuck and abuse an extraordinary body but an obnoxious boy.
It is hard for me to let this body go but as a human being the boy is impossible!

Love wishes
Siggi

 

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Repressed, 18
I have been fighting many repressed urges most of my life one of the many repressed urges is to be a bottom skinhead masochist no limits slave with a real sadist insane Nazi who would cause me the most extreme pain possible and any other horrifying things to please him.
Ideally I am looking for someone to maybe help me with many other repressed urges as well.
I would need to talk for at least ten minutes before he starts hurting me as I am very nervous.

 

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PunkypigSpeakingguy, 20
Im genuinely what I do.

 

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MarilynManson1995, 22
Make me your loaned out dope whore.
I’m partying, slammed, looking to be slammed up to the point where I’m so brained I don’t care what is in me as long as it’s gaping my hole.

I’m getting a ton of messages….nice. But do not fucking offer me money! Dumb fags I’m staying at an expensive ass hotel I don’t need your bloody money.
Also what’s with all these so called tops refusing to send me face pics. Ditch the fucking paranoia.
Lastly, I’m pretty much hooking up everyday of the week if your a good top might be with you…if not on to the next.
And yes, my photo is real!

 

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an_eyesore, 19
I can be anywhere around USA

-6.1ft. (wishin for 6)
-120Lbs(wishin for 150)
-smokes(aLot)
-drinks(aLot..shitLoads)
-snores&drooLs
-fake ID
-whisky fLask
-mp3
-good …drinker
-i stare &i point
-10-12 gLasses of H20 per day
-eldest child(I DEMAND ATTENTION!!)grrrrrr
-Doesnt give a shitty rat’s ass aLL the Time
-rather be dead than be n a coma
-rather shoot peopLe n d head than watch them cheat
-brother of three well technically fivr
-enemy of all “anti christ” they all 7(espanyol)!!
-24/7 hard…headed =D
-good at spying
-great at scheming
-master at revenge
-brain activity aLLocation:
-50%pLotting
-30%perversions
-10%reserve power for bLackouts
-5%sociaL improvement
-4.99%physicaL improvement
-.01ademic improvement
-swears&curses Like heLL
-not gettin Laid LateLy

 

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your_legal_dream, 21
Don’t really know what to say other than the fact that I’m not the best looking or have a gym fit body, but what I lack in normal hotness I make up for if you’re a certain kind of master because I’m a freak of nature for my age. I’m 4’8″ and skinny and can pass and have many times passed for a pre-teen boy. This has both advantages if men are pedos and disadvantages if they’re normal gays. Emotionally I go weak at my little knees with the sight of a tall man, 6′ or taller, bear or biker especially when he’s got a nice big cigar or businessman. I’m new to anal but I’ve had enough to know I like it. In essence I want any guys out there who fit my physical criteria and dream of rimming and fucking little boys without going to prison to take me for a ride.

 

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OUTRAGEOUS_, 18
I’m a rubber doggo! O_O
Welcome to the page of a crazy kinky rubber pup!
I love everything and pretty much have no limit although a few nono’s will be scat, gore and needles! This pupper no likey!
Ruff! Ruff!! Ruff!!! >=3

Comments

i-love-dreams – Dec 13, 2016
i wanna play fetch with you in the fast lane of a freeway, hit me up.

123123TESTING – Dec 11, 2016
Dogs shouldn’t try to type.

OKpunchyou – Dec 11, 2016
Ick

 

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alwaysparched, 18
Hmm How to pique the interest of a nasty guy other than just putting up a picture of my ass and saying if you’re my age you can fist that

How about I’m in three bands if that makes me cool I’m the drummer for a Hardcore/Dbeat punk band called Dandruff the drummer for the street punk band Bleach And I play all instruments (Bass, Guitar, Drums, Vocals) for my solo project called Quo Vadis (i know go me right)

I look like I’m 21 but I can ensure you I am 18

 

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WhatareThose,19
I’m good. How are you? Are you in a hurry?
Gay unattached living in the best city in the world London!
I did sport since I was 2 years old so I have strong arms and legs.
Don’t ask me how long my penis is, I dont know that.
New to slavery. Heard good things.

Comments

Anonymous – Dec 10, 2016
Old wine in new tubes

 

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JakeNeel, 18
Hey. Jake Neel here. Can join all of you as I’m 18 years old now. Living in San Francisco last six months. Graduating high school end of May and relocating with dad to Japan. Once in Japan I can ditch dad.

I am a very fun person. Love cock honestly, all kinds from 5″ to BBC 12inches. Don’t have a great body but I’m great and my face is very cute. Ps I swallow and with most men so far because of my cute face that’s usually enough to make up for the body thing.

 

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MeGoinBad, 21
I want someone in P.A.R.I.S who will be interested in me in a sick way even when he’s not erect, who is always horrid and and Rich. I am a slave with luxury tastes, you give me what I want and I would give you what you want.

I am less beautiful in real I warn you. So if you find me very attractive in picture you would probably not like real.

I am all about meaningfull meaningless sex. I am 21 and quite sexperienced with crazy perverts. Want to see lots of precum?

I am looking for a long term enslavery BUT I still require a gift (of my choice) from the first day. I can seem very superficial and materialistic, a little pig who sacrifice anything to be rich but that is not the case, I’m just a little shy.

No joy rides.

B.E.Y.O.N.C.E

 

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boy, 19
looking for a father/son relationship. someone decisive who believes in strict discipline for boys my age. always been straight but after watching some hypnosis videos I have not been able to stop thinking about worshipping a father. my only ask is that you must legally adopt me. parents, sister and brother all dead (in a fire). living with my alzheimers grandfather who wont know i’m gone.

Comments

sc88 – Dec 19, 2016
he do what u like ,/ but will not love u / If he say hes love u than hes lieing.

 

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Cycloneboy, 21
So u should totally hit me up if ur in PARIS 2 december – 7 december and need a good fuck hole.

I’m 175 cm tall, I weigh 55 kg and I got slim legs & an ass like a suspicious unattended bag and my calling card.. a donkey dick thats 19.5 cm (8″) and very wide.

U can fuck me any way u want it and u cum where u want to cum, but warning: I need to talk a little bit before if u shove it in.

Yeah I also kiss. And my donkey dick can entertain you from the sideline as a lollipop or joy stick or…

I’m interesting, I promise! I have many interests.

Comments

sluthater – Dec 11, 2016
boy who cried wolf

Cycloneboy – Dec 7, 2016
Hope my date tonight isn’t reading this. I have pneumonia, temperature 103°. I look bad like complete shit not hot.

Cycloneboy – Dec 6, 2016
Need to see a doctor. Master CClair hooked me up with a gay doc, chill, into the scene. Seeing him at 5.

Cycloneboy – Dec 5, 2016
Running a fever but met with Master CClair. Glad I did. Brutal, wrenched me wide open. Heavy partying. He kissed me so intensely it chipped my front tooth. Felt lost, not sure what I was doing. “Danny (that’s my name) maybe it’s time to stop…”

Cycloneboy – Dec 4, 2016
Same night with my favorite “crapule” so far. Got me bombed, bound me up, very violent, kicked me around. Bruised up now, guys, it’s part of the package now. Fisted me deeper than thought possible almost not stopping for 3 hours. Feel a little sick after, cancelled my 3am date.

Cycloneboy – Dec 4, 2016
Afternoon almost too much with bbc-guy and two his friends with body blows with fists, face slaps, fisted and double sodomized. They came to the end of my gluttony. “You can go there close your eyes …”

Cycloneboy – Dec 3, 2016
Very good night with hooded Master virile-in-hood. Very insane fucker, giant stiff dick, hot boiling cum, punctual. I highly recommend him. Hungry bottoms will not be disappointed.

Cycloneboy – Dec 2, 2016
I’m going to use this as a diary.. FUN?

 

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CompleteDeadbeat, 18
Total complete scum deadbeat teenager looking for a total ruthless amoral master to disappear me with psychotic sex. Shove so much viagra down my throat and meth up my nose I don’t know horny from horrendous. Beat me, whip me, cage me, give me brain damage, stab me, cut my arms and legs off, ect.. I need this! Never let me jack some shitty little puddle on my tummy again. Make me drip profusely!

 

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JUSTBEYOU, 18
Good evening,

I’m looking for a Master.

I’m only eighteen. I do not particularly care to speak of superfluous personal details which do not interest many people.

As a small animal without a leash, I wish to belong to someone, so that little by little, I am totally acquired by him for a totally unequal relationship where I am submissive but not vulgarly in the SM fantasy sense.

I accept to totally abandon myself to a man with only the condition that it is done well.

Comments

ceasar48 – Dec 4, 2016
EAT MY COCK EAT MY ASS EAT NOW

Underfoot92 – Dec 1, 2016
Love thinking wearing my boots all day then taking the time to crush you with them.

 

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4FairyGodmother, 18
take me that who i am

im 18 turning 19 on dec 11th

ill happily sign away all my rights to you but only for 12 years until 2028 bcuz theres somethin important i need to do in 2028

my limit are children girls pets
do not try to negotiate, its dead

 

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Pig, 20
Not able to live as pig just now. Soon. Born a pig. Took wrong path, married. Not for much longer.

 

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UnbalancedCouple, 21
Hi! 🙂

I’m Carl (middle photo, 22) and I’m seeking a sadistic torturer for my pretty, slow upstairs boy Jack (top and middle photos, 21).

He’s a total pain pig and enjoys to suffer for me, but I’m looking for someone who doesn’t care about him like I do and will trash and torture the living fuck out of him while I watch!

We are looking for:

– A severe sadist.. You must have no empathy and enjoy inflicting a lot of pain.
– An alpha.. I’m in charge! If I say my boy needs to suffer even more than what you’re doing then that’s what you make happen!
– An ultra-discreet.. You must keep your mouth shut about what happened afterwards even if we go too far and there’s a accident or tragedy.

I am super flexible on details and Jack lives in a haze so we’re ready when you are.

Carl <3

 

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trashme?, 21
I need to be humiliated & degraded and for me there is nothing worse than having my nice designer trackies and jackets trashed with all sorts of shit; gunge, mud, oil, paint…anything really, as long as it fucks my clothes up good and proper and leaves me asking myself why I would do such a thing…

I love my clothes, I’m the sort of person that can’t stand to leave a bit of dirt on my trainers so to see nice designer clothes messed up for me is completely wrong and quite traumatic, but at the same time completely right and insanely horny.

 

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AutisticBoy4Mature, 19
BIG GOVERNMENT NOT NEEDED as much when INTELLIGENCE passed along (The HELP U NEED) in a LOYALTY Chemistry manner for sure. DECEPTIVE Unacceptable ONLINE Banking, Shopping and Social Network Spy Tools Business has to use VAGUE Trigger Words in order 2 justify corruption drugs and PORNO void of Loyalties Trust and Love on more Local Economic basis. This is why leaked documents show that such folks are NEVER what they seem on a witness stand or public podium.

Dont feed into INVISIBLE Social Network Spy tools. Make yourself “FREE AT LAST” by shopping and socializing LOCALLY instead of a minority ZION attempting to do to the world what it failed at in SOVIET Version of a Corrupt Banking Kingdom.

Lady acquaintance got more DEAD IN THE EYES over time (she was unofficial MOM after Original MOM passed away). LODGE DUDE Acquaintance told her NAZI DOCTOR MENGELE 2 reduce SUICIDAL side effects or would report his ASS 2 MEDICAL BOARD that many don’t know exists.

HAD THIS BEEN an ACTUAL EMERGENCY yer Naughty Bum would be led 2 FEMA CONCENTRATION CAMPS near railroad Tracks as the HELP U NEED 4 Easy LOADING and UNLOADING of the ISSUES. Death Camps will be in 3 Groups: A Place 4 MOMMY, A Place 4 DADDY and a Place to lose track of yer kids to NATO Arrangements VOID of Loyalties.

 

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4cops, 20
Arrest me.

 

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CALLmy, 20
Hi, I’m a young boy in paint and leather.
What I offer here?
1. Private photos of myself in various paint and leather outfits. They are partial solo recordings or together with my Master. Quality of the photos is good and there are 150 pieces partly in the hotel room and partially in the SM studio. Price for 150 photos = 30 euros.
2. Short film (13 minutes) of me in the tight leather panties. I present myself in the hot panties of black leather. My Master uses the opportunity to fiddle me in the leather everywhere and plays around the hole.
3. Have mixed with different Masters 2 different private pornos with proper action and in feature film length. All the trimmings including fucked, blow, rimming, scat, toyplay, bondage, whipping, blood, fist and much more. These 2 movies are available on DVDs or for direct download very easy. The quality is equivalent to HD quality.
5. Of course, I make myself available Live for no cost, however, only with my Master there. But he does not have to take part in session and sex Himself. Gladly the meeting can be filmed at cost by him for you as a reminder. Of course with your mobile phone or Camera and only for you personally.
At live meetings I can either wear normal clothes or a short leather pants.
I do almost everything except kissing and blood. Kissing even lightly on the lips makes me wretch and vomit if I’ve eaten. Was cut in one of the movies for blood draining but was not my thing. Never again!

 

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Skorpian, 20
Hey Men please my mouth and ass to you too pale one.
Im unque cant without ANYBODY ANALLY WITH WITH ME.

Comments

RileyJackson – Dec 21, 2016
cuter even than his photo but has a neurological condition that makes his speech slurred and hands shake like leaves. the fuck was strange and afterwards he got very tense.

 

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Useless_lowlife, 19
Just your average 19y/o medical student who sometimes pretends to be a spider.

 

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4White, 20
Asians are born inferior. I believe white men are superior and has the right to use and abuse any Asians as an object.

It is my greatest honor to be used, beaten and harshly fucked by any white and receive your precious cum that’s filled with superior white DNA in me.

I will never be white but by receiving as much cum from white men I hope I have right to exist.

I am willing to bleed and suffer any pain just to help you to shoot one good load.

 

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iowapagan, 18
Throughout grade school this slave was a chronic masterbater. The slave could not control it’s urges or thoughts. To clear it’s mind the slave would jerk off, dump it’s thoughts into a rag or toilet. The slave was aroused at the most deviant and obscene images and videos, and soon found its own imagination more despicable than what it could find on the internet.

These perversions prevented the slave from forming any real relationships with anyone. Something lead the slave to craigslist were it found a Man willing to mentor a 15 year old slave in a law abiding way.

It was this Man that placed the slave in chastity. It was this Man who loaned the slave to Masters of all walks of life. It discovered that it has a high pain threshold and realized that it’s purpose was to submit itself entirely.

Now the slave is legal as of a week ago and knows it can do better than the Man that trained it for three and a half years. The slave is still a virgin, but that is meant to change now. To any sadist, pervert, deviant, twisted individual.. take this slave’s virginity in the most devastating and brutal way You can possibly imagine. Do not hesitate, the wait has been long enough.

Comments

Anonymous – Dec 3, 2016
Jake, I really like you!

 

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pony247, 21
I’m the best pony from this site.
I´m looking for permanent master. I can relocate
* You can have dinner sitting in my face
* I will dress you all the days and put your pijama
* I can be without food 3 days
* You never will be happy with me

 

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transformboy, 18
I’m into transformation, so that means into something I’m not at the moment.
Looking for real encounters.

For example:
– from slim shy boy to a scary muscle jock (roids…)
– transformation into a animal (remove feet and hands, ears stretched, hairs implant…)
– transformation into a princess (genital surgery, add breasts, botox, skeleton reconstruct…)
– …
– interested in becoming bird (feathers implant, cage, throat operation…)

Transformation stories turn me on. Someone want to try that in real? Hit me up!

Also open for sex encounters but not main focus.

Comments

PINK_Prick – Dec 20, 2016
Awe that’s sad

transformboy – Dec 20, 2016
Just a tube running on one side of my face. I have some organ problems.

PINK_Prick – Dec 20, 2016
What’s that?

transformboy – Dec 20, 2016
Yeah well it’s hiding something that’d be questioned.

PINK_Prick – Dec 20, 2016
Would be hot if you didn’t have the dog face

 

*

p.s. Hey. ** Michael karo, Well, hi there, Michael! What a rare pleasure. HNY! Yeah, I would definitely be interested to find out what killed that golden-seeming idea. ** _Black_Acrylic, Hi, Ben. Well, the sound in the ‘SCUM’ film is just a reading of the manifesto, I believe, so maybe you could have an English hardcopy handy and use it as lap-based subtitles? Nice Welsh in Chicago story. He still lives there? Wow, he really stuck it out. Lovely guy. ** David Ehrenstein, Yes they are. So happy you’re also on board. ** Sypha, Hi, James. Lists are made for shuffling. I guess they wouldn’t be so addictive to make if they got stuck. Yes, Skullflower, they’re great. And still at it and going strong, I believe. Well, yes, I hope you will get Cheap Trick within your grasp. ** Tosh Berman, Hi, Tosh. Yes, there are strong parallels between Cheap Trick and Sparks for sure, and Rick Nielsen, CT’s mastermind, has often mentioned Sparks as a kindred spirit. Both are highly intelligent subversives working in the popular music language. CT is much darker, and there’s always a core playful nihilism modulating in their work, sometimes thoroughly and sometimes tenably behind the scenes. One difference is that Cheap Trick is a rock band. That’s their field of interest, and their persona and stage act are a kind of mocking yet celebratory presentation of ‘the rock band’. Cheap Trick’s heroes and biggest role models are The Move, and that’s a good light to see what they’re doing in. I think Robin Zander is the greatest rock singer of all time. One problem that has beset both Sparks and CT is that, at the times they started, it was in an atmosphere where rock/pop were considered art and taken more seriously, so the brilliance and nuances and very sophisticted comedy of both bands’ early works was grasped and characterized and celebrated by critics and brainer rock fans, but that period is long gone, and both are now doing very artful work in a context where such work has been forced into the margins. Cheap Trick did consistently great work up until around 1983. The album just after ‘The Dream Police’, a rather experimental album they recorded with Beatles producer George Martin called ‘All Shook Up’, is very, very interesting. Then the subsequent two albums ‘One on One’ and ‘Next Position Please’ are very strong. Then they entered a ten year period where things got messy. They made a lot of compromises in order to stay on a major label. They made a couple of albums with mostly excellent songs but trendy, now-dated production that was imposed on them by the labels. Then they made two albums that are largely just them recording material written by outsider songwriters with a Cheap Trick veneer. That lead to them having a massive hit in the form of the rudimentary non-band written power ballad ‘The Flame’, but those two albums are pretty weak. They started returning to form in the mid-90s, and their two most recent albums ‘The Latest’ and this year’s ‘Bang, Zoom, Crazy… Hello’ are very, very good. Anyway, if you want to expand your Cheap Trick collection, and I hope you will, I would say get ‘All Shook Up’ and ‘One on One’, for sure, and then ‘Next Position Please’ if you’re still interested at that point. Thanks, Tosh. I love talking about Cheap Trick — and Sparks too, naturally – and I rarely get the chance. ** Steevee, Hi. Oh, no, criticism is fine, obviously. As I said to Tosh, the way to proceed with Cheap Trick after the first four albums is ‘All Shook Up’, ‘One on One’, and ‘Next Position Please’. If you end up falling in love, their two most recent albums are very good. My guess is that the 80s comp. you bought concentrates on their later decade compromised work, which, yes, is only of interest really to diehards like me who like looking for them even in weak places. There is a very, very good 2-disc compilation which I highly recommend called ‘Sex, America, Cheap Trick’. It’s a career overview up to 1996 and includes the best stuff from their lesser period, mostly restored to what the band had wanted, i.e. without the imposed trendy gloss and so on. Of course that insurance company crap you’re going through is insane and I suppose one of the many things that makes American heathcare seem like a form of punishment from over here. I hope everything works out okay. ** Dóra Grőber, Hi! I’m glad you enjoyed the Cheap Trick gig. Yes, it’s tricky with our film’s main character. We still want to try to audition handicapped guys — luckily, we prefer people who aren’t actors, so that opens it up — and we’ve left the main character’s disablement flexible. But, emotionally, it’s a complicated part to perform, so … we’ll see. No news yet about Milo. I think we’ll re-approach his dad and him next week and see if the former has calmed down and will let us meet with the boy (and with his dad, I imagine). That hanging out you did sounds really nice. I just worked. I had thoughts to go out and see/do some random stuff, but it’s very cold here right now, and I chickened out, ha ha. Are you celebrating the big year change-over tonight? I don’t think I will. It’s too cold, or that’s my excuse, at least. HYN!!!! ** Misanthrope, Yay. I totally cop to swiping that book’s title very reverently from the Trick. Yeah, I don’t know. I get that celebrity deaths give social media people a reason to cyber-hug and schmooze and all of that, and why not, it’s harmless. But there’s something about how it plays out that makes me feel like grief is the new opiate of the online social set. I makes me suspicious. Could just be my problem. Why did you read that 75-page thing aloud? Or were you being metaphoric? You dream in self-pity? That’s interesting. When I do rarely remember smidgens of my dreams, I seem to be always in a state of complete terror in my dreams. Yeah, better there than here, for sure. Have a great New Year’s dawning. ** Jonathan Bryant, Hi, Jonathan! How really nice to see you, man! Yes! Me too! I.e., Cheap Trick and Sparks are in my Top Five favorite bands as well. We’re like long lost fellow members of the excellent taste brigade. And you have everything from their peak, impeccable period up through ‘Next Position Please’! If you were in Paris, I would insist on a champagne and macaron celebration. Well, there’s another opportunity for you feel complicated right up above. Me too, just to continue the theme of continuity. What is a turducken? I feel like I should know that. I’ll do a google thing when I finish this. You finished a co-written novel with your guy? Very nice. Co-written novels are a rare phenomenon. The few I can think of off the top of my head are all wonderful. That’s very exciting! Of course I’m very happy that your relationship goes so well. They call them exes for a reason. I wish you an absolutely fantastic 2017 too! Let’s make it happen, deal? Again, lovely to see you, pal! ** Right. Please say goodbye to 2016 in the company of slaves. See you in 2017 and, more particularly, on Monday.

 

It was a birthday present from my father-in-law. He and I had had discussions about absinthe from the time I’d arrived in Switzerland. I was particularly interested in the subject, due to an overload of Rimbaud and Baudelaire years before, and just a few months before I’d moved over here and left the US far behind me, the long-existing ban had been lifted on the drink.

My father-in-law had filled me with stories of illegal distillation from his days as a young man, studying business in the French part of the country. Told me about Sundays when he would travel hours by train back to his girlfriend, who in time became his wife. Told me about the Sundays he couldn’t afford to pay the fare, and when he would stay with the family who was renting him a room. Told me about how, on hot holy day afternoons, they would pull out a verboten bottle from the cellar, break out the glasses and sugar cubes and spoons, and get their drink on in the back garden. Pleasantly buzzed, watching the dragonflies hum by.

And so, on my first birthday as a newly stateless person in a country I was struggling my way through, he gave me my first bottle of absinthe. 68% volume, and not at all green. We drank it together, my new family and I. We didn’t drink the whole bottle. The smell put me off, although when I was on my third shot, it didn’t seem quite as terrible as at first.

++++++++++

I had, I have, a lovely friend who was here for four years and then moved back to the States this past summer after her marriage ended. Before she left, she asked me some questions about absinthe. It seemed her elderly mother wanted her to bring back a bottle when she left.

I pulled out what by then was left of my own dusty bottle. She examined the label, and then I offered her a drink. She had a shot, grimaced, and then asked me how to go about getting one for herself. I told her about the specialty bar in the city. I told her I’d go pick up a bottle for her, if she wanted.

I went to the bar, The Green Fairy. Bought a bottle of 72%, two of the traditional glasses, and two of the slotted spoons. Had them wrapped and brought them to her.
“Do you think I’ll be able to get through Customs?” she asked me.
“Why?” I asked.
“Well…” she said.
“Just pack it in the suitcase, not your hand luggage,” I told her.
She did, and it made it through without incident.

Weeks later, it was my birthday. I had a surprise gift—a bottle of the same kind of absinthe I’d bought for my friend. With the glasses, with the spoons. I drank the drink as it was intended for the second time in my life—positioned the spoon over the glass, melted the sugar cube, poured in the water and stirred.

It was sugary sweet, the anise taste tempered by the sugar. My teeth ached; I felt a strange kind of nostalgia that didn’t even belong to me.

One sweet drink was enough. I pulled out the shot glass afterwards, and had a few straight. The room did seem to spin after a little while, but there were no visions or hallucinations. I supposed, later, that if I’d kept drinking, I probably would have seen something eventually.

I’d taken a fast photo of the bottle and the prepped glasses. I posted it on my Facebook account. I had a couple of inquiring minds comment on it:

–Why isn’t it green?
–Delicious! But be careful with that stuff!

Clearly, the mythical Green Fairy still had her dainty, poisonous toehold. She still held the reputation of the dangerous drug of the artist.

But is she that, exactly?

++++++++++

Look, I’ll spare you the suspense, right now:

If you drink absinthe with the expectation of seeing fairies and other worlds, if you indulge in the hopes of some hallucinatory door opening for you and fuelling your creativity or imaginary, ghostly fingertips soothing your brow, you’re probably going to be let down.

If you combine it with other things, or if you drink it until you’re drunk, then yes: You’ll probably see some things then. Or black out, or experience what anyone on a proper bender would. And you’ll probably get there faster with absinthe in the mix, due to its high alcohol content (which ranges from 55-89%, or somewhere between 110 – 178 proof). Other drinks pale in comparison, with the exception of a few—and if you want to know which ones are higher than that, look it up on Wikipedia or something, and I’ll say a prayer for your liver in the meantime.

+++++++++

But then there’s the question of wormwood….

(Every time I hear that word, I’m instantly transported back to a childhood with Sundays spent on a folding chair in a hick Baptist church somewhere in the Midwest, trying not to listen to the preacher ranting on about revelations and eternal damnation:

The third angel sounded his trumpet, and a great star, blazing like a torch, fell from the sky on a third of the rivers and on the springs of water—the name of the star is Wormwood. A third of the waters turned bitter, and many people died from the waters that had become bitter. –Revelations 8:10 and 11.

You know, memories like that, they deserve a drink. But I’ve digressed….)

Wormwood, or Artemisia absinthium, to use its proper species name, is supposed to be what makes absinthe so dangerous. Wormwood contains thujone, once incorrectly classed as a cannabinoid. This is what’s supposed to give you those fabled visions and unhinge you. The thing is, though, that my bottle of 72%– and every other bottle of European absinthe you can get your hands on—contains only very small amounts of wormwood oil, and thus, only low doses of thujone.

All right: The rest of this section was reserved originally for Rigby, my very kind friend, who’d offered to provide his thoughts about wormwood, and his experiments that might or might not make you see visions and inspire you to madness.

But Rigby is off the grid at the moment. And so this will stand vacant for him, thinking of him, hoping that soon he’ll grace me and you sometime soon with that secret knowledge. Although, knowing what I know of Rigby, we’ll probably all be rolling in the gutter holding our guts at a much later date.

But at any rate, no more about wormwood; not until he weighs in.

++++++++++

So at this very moment, at this point in this post, you know basic things about absinthe. I could round it all out and make it much more flowery, but I’ve decided that one fond remembrance, a few basic facts, and a slightly deflating conclusion are enough. There are sites galore that can tell you much, much more than I ever could, and I’d encourage you to go to any of them if more is indeed what you want.

When I offered to write this for Dennis, who’d just got his blog archives back and had opened up DC’s again, I’d just been coming off a very drunken, very hot summer.

Then, nonsensically, I decided to go sober—at least for a while, which has made this rather difficult to complete. It’s now December.

++++++++++

It made sense at the time, even though it was impulsive. It was a decision made when I’d woken up one morning, having bitten my lip so hard during the night that the blood had flowed and it hadn’t even startled me awake, because I’d had no idea of it. It was a night after I’d inadvertently insulted and upset someone I hold dear. There had been some rational reason in my head for the insult initially, but I’d carried it far beyond all good sense. I hadn’t had any sense left by that point. I was fucking, fucking drunk, and worse, I’d lied about how drunk I was.

I was so drunk that when I woke up hours later, I wasn’t even hung over; I was still drunk.

I started to examine the previous evening when sober. I was horrified, to be honest. My sensible reasoning, the thing I usually pride myself on, was lost in the transmission. It was lost in a sea of wine, and absinthe, and whisky. The fact I’d reached a moment when I’d added whiskey on top of absinthe, well, it shows you how numb and dumb my brain had gone—if I’d been thinking much at all, I’d have just stuck with the absinthe and kept going.

When I checked the kitchen and saw how much absinthe was gone, how many shots of whiskey I must have had, I cringed, and made my decision.

++++++++++

I spent a lot of time thinking over my drinking.

I remembered moments from my 20s, when I’d worked for a personnel agency and was the main contact for a rather large bank in the region. I remembered nights of going out with the banking boys, the supervisors and managers. We lined up at the bars, neat in our very conservative suits like little American Psychos, waiting for the bartender to pour out the shots in a row. And pour again, and again, and again… Tequila without the pretense of the salt poured on the crook of your hand to chase it with. I was nearly always the only woman in the bunch, and I could hold my own with them. And because I was young, I would show up to work the next morning in a clean jacket and skirt, stockinged and heeled, scrubbed, perfumed and only slightly bloodshot that was mostly erased by a few eye drops. It earned me respect with the banking boys—that I could still be coherent and perform to expectations. I did it for years and there was never any comment, never any reprimand. I was good. Everybody said so.

++++++++++

I remember how one of my friends, who was verging on blackout more nights than not herself, once told me, “My husband says you drink like a fish.” And I think my only response to her was to ask if I could sleep on their sofa, because there was no way I could drive home.

++++++++++

I remember that when I went home for my father’s funeral, I never cried. He was gone and that was it, and it was like that proverbial monkey temporarily lifted off my back for once. Cleaning out his house, his cellar and workshop was a different matter. As I got deeper into the basement, my sister couldn’t take any more and left me. Went up into the woods and started hacking away at the monkey branches.

Monkey branches. I don’t know what they’re really called; I only know them as that from childhood, when they hung low and were thick enough to sit and swing on. I didn’t have a swing; I had monkey branches, and they were good enough. Now she was hacking them all down while I carried bottle after bottle of wine, scotch, whiskey out from under the workbenches and threw them with hardly satisfying crashes into that huge dumpster we’d rented. Sticky necks and dried little dregs; every bottle was empty. I didn’t find an unopened one anywhere.

I think I cleared out a whole liquor store inventory from that place.

It should have put me off drinking. That would have been a normal response. But when I was lying in his bed, in his bedroom alone late that same night, my thirst seemed to increase and I could only dream of oblivion.

++++++++++

I am my father’s kid. I’m my father’s daughter. No one could deny it. He tried to, for years, but his DNA is in me and it looks like I got it, just like he did: I’m a drinker. I’m a drunk.

That’s my revelation, not even carried on the spittle of a brimstone Baptist, and it’s very bitter, indeed.

++++++++++

It was a Thursday in November and I found myself in a state of mild anxiety, second-guessing a date I’d made to meet friends at the absinthe bar, with the idea that we might film a little of the experience and I could use it with this post.

I had been doing quite well with my sobriety; I hadn’t been drunk since the end of September. I’d kept away from all hard liquor. Now I was envisioning being in that bar and ruining that sense of equilibrium I’d managed to find.

In the end, I begged off. I decided I was going to try to write this thing, whatever you’d call it, without getting drunk to do it. Days kept passing, though, and nothing was happening.

++++++++++

Social media post of mine, December 9:

Conclusion: What is absinthe? A beautiful, stylized disappointment. And nobody can tell me differently.

Related comments:

Friend: Oh poor deprived Mieze, then you have only bad absinthe.

Me: No, it’s good enough. But I never had any great visions. My bad. There are just better highs and worse lows. You know.

Friend: Same here, but still a fine tipple…

Friend: Madame, at this point, I would go all Pavlovian bitch for a fucking Miller’s High Life.

Me: Said like the American you truly are….

Friend: Or better yet a Miller’s tallboy.

Me: Just waiting for you to make the Rolling Rock comment….

Friend: I prefer Genesse Cream Ale, if we’re going all eastern cheap beer. And / or a bazillion Little King’s.

Me: I would say, –Be still, my beating heart. But I’ve got to tell you, I hate beer.

Friend: Single Malt Whisky?

Me: Better.

Friend: So madame, what is your tipple of choice?

Me: None at the moment. Sober as they come for the last couple of months. Who knows the future, though.

Me: It’s entirely self-inflicted. So we’ll find out the backlash in a while, I’m sure.

++++++++++

–Why do I drink to get drunk? I’ve asked myself that question repeatedly over the last few months. I’d never bothered to scrutinize it in any serious way before. I hear these old things in my head, things that friends and colleagues have said to me over time, and I’m surprised I never paid them any attention before now.

You drink like a fish.

You drank that guy under the table.

I’m amazed you’re still standing and not on the floor. I wouldn’t even know you were drunk if I couldn’t smell it all over you.

You’re a real hard-boiled babe, aren’t you.

And those were the backhanded compliments; I’ve shrugged them off for as long as I can remember with a laugh.

I shrugged them off because there’s a component of true enjoyment to my drinking. I enjoy a drink and a cigarette. They go well together, and I enjoy the taste and the feel of the smoke in my lungs, and that warm feeling that spreads out through my body, how it makes me languid and relaxed, how it makes me feel like I’m still a member of the human race. And I know myself well enough to know that one glass will do absolutely nothing; two glasses will relax me, and the third will make me happy. Why don’t I stop there, then?

I drink to have some feeling of control, perhaps. Or I did when I started. To dull down pain, which is how, ironically that I know I actually am a member of the human race—I’ve got pain just like everyone else, and I need to control it somehow.

But the thing is, I don’t know when to stop; I don’t know when the pain is controlled enough. That’s the problem, and that’s what leads to communication like this:

…You started with that drunken idiocy… making no sense at all… Every argument and bad feeling has come from you… You maybe need to look at yourself a little more closely.

And what could I possibly say to that? Because it’s true, it’s accurate. There was much more said than just that, and it hurt to have to acknowledge any of it. I had a choice to acknowledge it or not. In the end, I chose to do just that, because pain control makes no sense when it only creates more of the same. Even I’m not so stupid as to see that. What good is pain control when it only hurts the ones around you?

–Not so much, in the end. It’s never worth that.

++++++++++

I was doing well, but then I had a moment when I fell down, fell off. It came on December 15th, when I made a conscious decision to go out and buy bottles and restock what had been my dry household for an afternoon soaked in fumes. I did it selfishly and I did it because I wanted to, knowing that at the end of it I would be silent and docile and heating up a dinner I’d already prepared and going to bed early in an almost blackout, but not quite. And when I was still half-sober, or a little more than, I wrote this:

I’m so flooded with random memories today.

I’m thinking of the one I love. I can see that in spite of it all, my love has been quite selfish. And I hate that… selfish love.

I’m thinking of my mother, because today’s her birthday. I’m trying not to think of her too much, in fact. I can’t think of her without thinking of the pain she experienced in her life, and how it never abated, how it kept building and building and building. I still miss her, four years and some months after her death, but that feeling, my hurt that she no longer exists and has been gone for so long now, that’s secondary. I can never think of my mother and myself in the same sentence easily. She gave me love and she gave me pain, but that is nothing compared to what she dealt with in her life; and what overwhelms me is not the gulf that always existed between us, but actually that subsuming of how much more pain, how much more despair, took over her life. She started out under tough circumstances, lived her childhood in the Depression, through WWII, but it wasn’t until she married my father that the light went out of her.

I’m thinking of that trap of a house, 4189 H– Road, and how it had been abandoned for years and the owner had bricked up his honeymoon convertible in that seemingly endless tunnel of a garage. I’m remembering how I stood there, six years old, in the dim with only a single overhead bulb to illuminate, watching as my father broke down those bricks and found that car, and the field mice who’d taken up residence in it swarmed out, climbing the walls and scattering for safety. It seemed like hundreds, like thousands while he stamped on them and killed as many as he could under his work boots, while I stayed silently rooted to the spot where I was, terrified by all that frantic wildlife.

I’m thinking of how my father’s liquor and wine bottles replaced those mice, as that space became his workroom. With his punching bag and his hidden photos of other women and his screwdrivers and his saw blades and the rust and the damp and the spider webs, that space was a trauma to clean out; wishing there was a full bottle of something in there to give me enough balls to keep going. But they were all empty, and somehow I still kept going.

Me, drinking to oblivion today. If I could wipe out any or all of these thoughts, it would be right and good. But I have been drinking, to be perfectly honest. I’ve been drinking since 11:17 AM; I noted the time when I started. I’m nowhere near finished yet. I’ll be drinking until at least 17:00, and my hope will be that all of these things will have been banished from my head by then.

++++++++++

Here’s the thing, and it was staring me in the face in the mirror this morning as I was washing up:

Oblivion today isn’t oblivion tomorrow. Not even I can fool myself into believing that. No bottle of absinthe, no bottle of anything is going to give it to me. So I get back on the clichéd wagon, while it moves slowly along at the trot of a worn-out horse, showing me all the debris of life on either side of it and behind it. It’s moving too slowly for me, and I want it to be sped up and I want lots of ground and safe space between me and what’s come before. I want cushioning.

But nobody gets that luxury.

I’m a part of the landscape, and I can see that, and I’ll just have to deal with it.

End, not end.

 

 

*

p.s. Hey. Those of you who are relatively new to DC’s possibly don’t know Mieze, an extraordinary writer, artist, and a very long time and beloved if recently quiet member of the ever evolving community of people who so kindly gather regularly around this place. She has written a very beautiful and lucid post for us today that I hope you will devote some time to reading. Should you do that, it will be an experience with immense benefits, I assure you. Of course, anything that results on your ends that you care to pass along to Mieze would be a wonderful thing, if you don’t mind. Thank you so much, Mieze. It’s glorious to have you and your mind and talent back here. ** Dóra Grőber, Hi, Dóra! I think I’ve made it very clear to my blog that such rude behavior on its part will not be tolerated in the future, so hopefully the coast is clear. Puppy sitting, aw. The buche was and still is very delicious. Oh, I ended up getting this one. It doesn’t look like that anymore since it’s about half devoured. The illness I feared was arriving didn’t arrive after all, or at least not yet. Yesterday started okay with mostly work and relative quiet, but then in the evening Gisele called to let me know that this young dancer who was in the original production of our piece ‘Kindertotenlieder’, and who we’ve known since 2004, killed himself on Xmas Eve. He jumped out of a window. He had been living in Japan for a few years, and I hadn’t seen or talked to him in quite a while apart from a couple of brief Facebook chats. Anyway, that was quite shocking and disturbing news, and so I’m a little shaken up and very sad, of course. But, you know, life continues as it so strangely does. I hope both of our todays are much better than my yesterday. And how was yours? ** David Ehrenstein, Yes, indeed. A very interesting set of directors to a one. ** H, Hi. Thank you so much for saying that about the film post. How exciting that you’re studying with filmmakers. Did they know or like any of the directors I featured? No, I don’t know Jarman’s ‘Will You Dance With Me’. I don’t think I’ve even heard of it before, which is very strange. I’ll go see what I can find of it out in the ether. Have a lovely day whatever the day entails. ** Steevee, Hi. That’s very worrying about Amy Greenfield. I hadn’t heard that she’s ill. I so hope it’s something that she can pull through clearly. Yes, it’s certainly true that people have a kneejerk tendency to think your characters are your mouthpieces. And that your narratives are based on your real life. Etc. It can be very annoying. And it’s true that, although my anarchism infuses all of my work, I think the only time I’ve written in a direct way about it is in the fourth scene of ‘LCTG’, and, in that case, I’m just using anarchism’s tenets as a comedic structure. Well, you just need to find a make-up artist-cum-set-builder to work with you if you do direct. Mm, when I’m writing something, I do oscillate, yeah, for sure. I’m pretty confident about my writing itself after the years of doing it all the time, but I do go back and forth about my decisions about what to do with the writing. One thing I never do is show anyone what I’m writing or have written until I’ve sat on it and revisited it for quite a while. It takes me quite some time to feel confident enough that I can handle an outside opinion with objectivity. If I share something too soon, I just get very confused by others’ input in a counterproductive way. ** Hyperbolic_plain, Hi! Oh, I like it very much! Eternal gratitude. And thank you too for checking out the films yesterday. ** Joseph, Hi. Good, I’m glad the drunk/cat thing didn’t implode. I don’t have cats, so I’m free to imagine implausible horror scenarios, I guess. The poem is wonderful, man! I read it twice yesterday, and it really iulluminated my insides. I’ve heard of that book ‘The Emergence Of Social Space: Rimbaud And The Paris Commune’, but I’ve never read it. As all things Rimbaud-related inherently rivet me, I’m going to write down a note to look for it. Hold on, done. Thank you very much! And have a fine day, sir. ** _Black_Acrylic, Hi, Benster. Oh, right, Boxing Day. I still don’t think I understand what that means or rather what one does to celebrate Boxing Day. Not box people, I’m assuming? ** James Nulick, Hi, James. Very happy to have been able to introduce you to those filmmakers. I really like editing too, whether it’s my own work or others’. I really enjoyed that part of doing the LHotB imprint. Editing is really the only part of wrirting that I truly love. When I’m writing something, I just can’t wait to get the raw material down so I can do the fun part of fiddling with it and wrenching it apart and polishing it and all that stuff. That’s probably one reason why I like making gif fiction a lot. It’s all just searching and choosing and editing. The apartment hunting has been on hold for a couple weeks because I found out that I need to have a French babnk account with a year’s worth of rent in it to be able to rent an apartment. I can’t do anything until that’s in place, so I’m in the middle of setting up that account, and it’s not an easy thing to do, but I think it’ll be in place before too long. Then I can start hunting again. Have a super day. ** Right. Please give yourselves over as meaningfully as you can to Mieze’s text and post today. Thank you very much. See you tomorrow.