Jason Rimbaud

Lateral Guilt By: Jason R. You are the place I?ve stayed too long Our vocal battles always ended in drama But I learned about spoons and candles About justifying addictions By using my body as a weapon You push me away Even as you reach out blindly For my touch to comfort you Yet you sell your body for money I guess being a stone Protects your fragile mind With denial I want to be unfeeling I want to be a stone I want to be you

Hey Camy,I found it brilliant and not the least bit disturbing. I have written a few pieces fantasizing about my own death so I understand the need to sometimes examine certain feelings. I figure if you have the cats to keep you company and the occasional shag from the bf, then examine those feelings and write about it. I love the little tidbits of Camy thoughts you give us time to time. Great title by the way, I think that's the most brilliant part of the piece.Jason R.

Hey Graeme, One of my favorite author's once said, "There is nothing new to write about." or something to that effect. If that is the case, then none of us can ever write anything new or original. So it falls on us to use something that has been done before, but put our own spin on it. If you can think of an idea around a car accident, and the characters are believable as well as the plot, then your story will work. I do think we should know all the rules of writing, and I also think if you know the rules, then you know when to break them. Knowing the type of story you usually tell, I don't think you should have a problem. That being said, whatever changes comes about due to this car accident, try to devise a way to make that same change happen without using the car wreck as a plot device. I would personally try to exhaust all other ideas before going back to a car wreck. Though to give you something else to think about, I've been involved in three accidents, two of my best friends have been in a major car accident, and a cousin of mine died in a car accident. So car accidents do happen, and they change so many lives when they do. Just my two paragraphs of thought. Jason R.

That is simply unkind and untrue. Her teeth are not British and are just fine. And I love independent book stores (most of which sell HP). Fog? Well Jack the Ripper understands that fear....Well Wibby, It seems I was wrong about her teeth, I checked for pictures on the web.As for independent book stores, I really like them as well, more intimate than the big chain stores.As for the fog, your reason is way better than mine.And since we all know our resident raccoon is one of the most intelligent beings on Awesome Dude, I might...might I say...borrowmyfriendsbook and readthefirstharrypotter. Jason R.

I don't think I'll even mention Des or Trab's comments. Wanking and such I'll leave to my betters. I'd like to apologize to Rad for those insensitive comments, no matter how funny they were. Wanking, good one Trab. That being said, Trab watch out for the British witch, she'll get inside your soul and steal your last breath just like she stole the idea of Harry Potter. And for the reasons why I hate J.K.Rowling Wibby, I'm not sure. But it has something to do with bad teeth, upstairs of independent book stores, and the fear of the fog. Jason R.

My Fiftieth Blog Entry So I realized a few days ago, that this would be my fiftieth blog entry here on Awesome Dude. Of course this was after I wrote one of my typical blog entries. And much to my surprise, I was petrified to post this average run-of-the-mill post. Let's face it, my fiftieth blog entry warranted something special. So for days I struggled with finding the right topic. I thought I'd come up with something witty, maybe a bit smart, and really funny. But as I stared at the blank screen, I discovered I didn't feel very witty, smart, or funny. So then I thought I might offer up some advice, something so deep that it would change the life of anyone who might read it. But I don't have any advice other than to advise to never wear pink out in public, and that's really not that life-changing for everyone. So I called my friends, polling them for any glimmer of insight they might have to offer. But sadly, I found out they are pretty much as pointless as my left over toenail clippings. Then I danced around with the idea of relaying some past emotional trauma for you but I don't feel like being all deep and vulnerable right now. So here I am, my fiftieth blog entry and I've got nothing to say. But...I can offer this one admission, an admission so terrifying and so embarrassing just the thought of it causes me to run and hide in the closet and never come out again unless I first change my identity. I am really looking forward to the new Harry Potter movie. You average Awesome Dude readers might not think this is a very scary admission at all. Truly not scary enough to warrant posting it as my fiftieth. But let me explain this first, so it becomes crystal clear why this admission frightens me so. First off, let me say that I've never read a single Harry Potter book. Mostly because I'm not a fan of books starring children, for some reason I can't seem to identify with twelve-year-olds, no matter if I act the part most of the time. Nor have I watched a single Harry Potter movie. When asked about Harry Potter, I would roll my eyes and say something along the lines, "How good can it be, it's a childrens book." To be honest, I've been known to vehemently say I would never read, watch, or pursue any avenue that would lead me to Harry Potter or that freaky witch that writes the stories. In my opinion, J.K. Rowling is one step below Satan. I don't care how much money the whore has made. So how could I go from hating all these Harry Potter to looking forward to this new Harry Potter movie? Let's go back to last week. I had the good fortune of having Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday off, Wednesday being the fourth of July. And while Monday and Tuesday were quite eventful and I'm pretty sure I'll be posting those events in blog entries very soon, Wednesday I had absolutely nothing to do. Hanging out with Daniel's family is okay, most of the time, but there are times when I just want to hang out alone and veg. Unfortantly, sometimes Jason alone is not a good thing. Idle hands and such, so when I begin feeling a bit bored, I do what I normally do...I clean my apartment. But that only killed about four hours and two bottles of wine. So I decided to order food from my favorite Chinese Restaurant, in reality I ordered enough food for three people. Once the food was delivered, I settled in front of the TV to eat WAY TO MUCH food and watch some mind-numbing programs on my 60 inch screen. Okay, I know the fourth of July is a holiday about the celebration of the independence for our nation. I love America, I really do, but fuck me running backwards, why the hell do they have to play those crappy war movies all day long. I've seen them all, a billion times and I wasn't in the mood for blind patriotism. I wanted a different flavor, so channel surfing became my way of doing something different. And since I have every channel available, going through them is a chore in and of itself. Two hundred channels and nothing on right. It's how it always goes. The only movie I was even considering watching was on TCM at two o-clock, Mel Gibson's The Patriot. Looking at my watch, I had about twenty minutes to kill. In my channel surfing, I saw that Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone had just started a few minutes earlier. So on a whim, I switched over, after all, I was all alone in my apartment and I would allow my balls to be ripped from my body by a herd of wild baby elephants before I would ever admit to what I had just done. I had planned on watching it for a few minutes before The Patriot started, no harm, no foul. Right? Okay, yeah, I'll tell myself that. Holy Shit! Before I knew it the ending credits were rolling and I was in shock. Not only was it a good movie, but I really, really, really, liked it. So much so, that I got dressed and raced to the local Blockbuster to rent the other three movies. I won't mention that I made a big show of saying to the pimply faced nerd behind the counter that I was renting these stupid movies for my little cousin, so loudly that everyone in line heard me. I watched all three movies back to back. And I was sitting on the edge of my seat the whole time. I couldn't believe it, the story drew me and kept me waiting to see how this all played out. So my friend, Ann, is a Harry Potter junkie. I mean junkie, she has all the books, signed probably from E-Bay, she owns all the movies and has watched them over and over again. And for years, I gave her a ton of shit about this unhealthy addiction. But once the fourth film finished, I was so excited, I called her up. Did you know that Pennsylvania is three hours ahead of California? I did, but for some reason in my excitment I forgot that important piece of information. It was a few minutes after midnight in California, for me, yet for her, it was just after three AM. After she yelled at me for about five minutes, something about waking her up in the middle of the night on a work day, I finally got the chance to tell her about the Harry Potter marathon I had in my apartment. Three hours later, we finally hung up. She had twenty minutes to shower and get dressed for work. We talked about the story development, the movie version as opposed to the books, it was a fucking amazing conversation. In those three hours, I learned so much about the world of Harry Potter. I hung up the phone in a daze, and a bit confused why I had for so many years dismissed Harry Potter as mere children's drivel. And I realized that I was a fan. At least when it comes to the movies. I still won't buy a single J.K. Rowling book, mostly because of the things I've heard her say in the press and the way she goes after those who writes fanfics about her characters. Fanfics are the truest form of flattery, why the hell she gives a flying nun's fuck is beyond my understanding. Anyway, J.K. Rowling sucks, no matter if they can make good movies from her crappy books. About enough about that crazy whore. So now I'm waiting for the new movie. I'll even go see it with all the other wacko's and won't be embarrassed to be seen in the theatre. Mainly because I know I won't be the only fag in the theater who is watching because of Daniel Radcliff. My oh my how he's grown up. And I've been fortunate in that regard, I've watched him grow up in a single afternoon instead of waiting for each new movie like the rest of you. So I'll admit it, I'm a fan of Harry Potter. And I should never have said never. Oh well, life goes on. Jason R. Now if I could only persuade Ann to keep her big fat mouth shut, and not tell all our friends. Like that's going to happen, she probably already sent out a mass email to everyone. Tragic I say, fucking tragic.

First off, haven't you already posted this particular topic a few days ago?Second, I'm shocked that Wibby would say you are nearing 90 years old. We all know that you aren't a day over 85.Thirdly, have you already posted this particular topic a few days ago?Fouthly, I'm glad you're feeling better and hope you get to feeling the boyfriend very soon. Though I must admit I'm a bit jealous of him.Jason R.Happy three twenty day

I wonder My birthday is on 26th of January, and Australia celebrates it's national holiday on the same day. So that must mean, in reality, Australia celebrates my birthday. Thanks for the well wishes Jason R.

Hey Camy,For some reason, I just noticed a picture on your site. If its been there the whole time I'm sorry for not noticing. Is that you?If so, you look nothing like I pictured you. Emu coments aside, I had a much different picture in my mind.Jason R.

Des, this posts reminds me of...nothing. What a perfectly ridiculous post. And I loved it. After having a really bad weekend, you've brought a smile to my face by posting absolutely nothing. I'll give you two fingers up and a half smile.Jason R.

Hmmmm...*looks up at the title**looks back at the text*So, ummm, this wasn't what I expected. It's great that someone liked your story, congrats. But, I was looking...hoping...I mean, look at the blog title. I was looking for a more indecent blog entry. You could have slipped just a bit more of tongue in this entry. Jason R.PS: Still wanting to feel alive?

You tell him Wibby.I don't think Des knows how to be decent. Though I've always found him to be decently dressed. Most of the time.Jason R.

Hey Des,If I do, can I have the title you suggested? I think it's better than the one I used. Jason R.PS: The TV was on in the background when I was posting this blog entry, and Friends was playing. Hence the name, that is how Friends titled all their episodes.

Ah, Rad...you a bad boy. A very bad boy. But I like you anyway.And Trab, I think it's scary how you always see to the heart of the matter. I like to think of you as a friend. Des, I like your title, Poetic Justice of the One Night Stand. But you said I should write a short story, didn't I already write...a...story? *walks away looking for butterflies*Jason R.

The One Where I Throw Up on the Screen I feel sick, diseased and lifeless. I saw the darkest parts of myself today, struggled long after the hope of changing had faded. I'm dirty and need a shower. Have you fucked someone for the sole purpose of trying to feel alive? I washed the sheets today, they were stained and filled with memories I'd rather forget. His name was Alex. I met him at Nola's last night after work. He was a tall skinny brunet with a lopsided grin. In a bar filled with two-baggers, he was the only one I'd fuck with the lights on. It was pathetic, awkward, and un-fulfilling. A coupling where you really want to cum as fast as possible just so it would be over. Have you ever fucked someone for the sole purpose of trying to feel alive? His breath smelled of un-washed ass, even after I made him rinse out with Mouthwash. A putrid smell I swear I can still smell on my dick, hours after I bid him adieu. But I needed a dumpster, a stranger, someone I would never have to see again. Release is primal, and jerking off only takes you so far. Have you ever fucked someone for the sole purpose of trying to feel alive? I saw stains on my carpet, I wonder if Resolve will truly resolve them? Alex was cute, tall and gangly but with way to much body hair. I've seen less hair in 70's porno movies. What kind of homo lets his situation roam free and out of control? It's 2007 for christ sakes, trim up that bush people. Alex couldn't have weighed more than 140 pounds, and stood at least six foot three. I had fears of breaking him in half, though they faded as primal urge took over. When he stripped off his clothes, I admit I was a bit surprised. A monster cock fell out of his boxers, and though I know cocks look bigger on skinny guys, his dick was HUGE. I must admit I found his monster cock quite amusing, as he was a total bottom. This makes me kind of believe in god. Only the twisted god of the christians would have the sense of humor to give a total bottom like Alex such a monster cock. Have you ever fucked someone for the sole purpose of trying to feel alive? Fucking Alex was like fucking a box of ice, cold and slightly numbing. The noises he made were all wrong, and in the wrong places and time. I thought at first he was going through the motions, but his cock was hard the entire time. I don't think he came, though sex was never about him in the first place. Have you ever fucked someone for the sole purpose of trying to feel alive? I washed my sheets today, three times. I think they might still be dirty, or maybe it's just the grime I sense in my self. His name was Alex, and he told me he was just out of two month long relationship with his straight best friend. Why is it gay boys always crush on their straight best friends? Again my belief in god doubles. At Nola's, he told me he was tired of jerking off and sleeping alone. All he wanted was some human contact. Have you ever fucked someone for the sole purpose of trying to feel alive? I scrubbed my carpets this morning, early, right after I told him to leave my apartment. I can still see the look on his face, a sad look of quiet acceptance. It was heartbreaking, to see someone so broken, hints of tears in his blue eyes as he quickly got dressed. He is still young, young enough to have delusions about true love and lasting commitments. In his time spent in my bed, I think I might have jaded him, tarnished his golden armour. Set him on the path to be another jaded fag, just like me. Have you ever fucked someone for the sole purpose of trying to feel alive? His name was Alex and he was beautiful. His hair smelled of honey and mixed berries, I can still smell his Tommy cologne. And his breath didn't smell like un-washed ass, more of beer and cigarettes. A mixture that usually drives me wild. Young and filled with life, Alex was a tiger in the bed. The sex was primal and filled with passion and sweat. Innocence smells sweeter before you fuck, afterwards it smells of guilt and self-loathing. Have you ever fucked someone for the sole purpose of trying to feel alive? I washed myself four times today, I still feel dirty though. Scrubbing the stains away in my carpet was something I could control. Elbow grease works, my carpet is now again spotless. Just like my shower, the fourth time I showered I spent most of the time cleaning it. My skin smells of 409 Bathroom and Tile Cleaner. My toes and hands are wrinkled, I don't think I'll ever get clean again. Have you ever fucked someone for the sole purpose of trying to feel alive? Have you ever just fucked someone over? Have you...

I love it! Thanks Des Jason R.

Hey Des, if you write a story about that, then I want full credit for giving you the inspiration.Camy, are you spying on me?Trab, I just think you're cool.Seriously, thank you all. Jason R.

Des,Please stop playing with your loyal followers. Everyone knows you live in my house with me. Don't deny it.Jason R.

It's strange how a voice from your past, a voice that only lives in your memories, can affect you like a disease, leaving you feeling sick and weak. The voice I'm speaking about, Jason. The boy from I'll Never Wear Boxers Again. He calls me out of the blue today, under the guise of telling me about the birth of a child, our mutual friend Dave had his first baby boy. This disturbs me, we haven't spoken in almost two years. The last time we spoke was at his fucking wedding for Christ sakes. The day after we fucked for the last time. Talk about dysfunctional friends. The whole thing creeped me out. When my phone rang, I got a funny feeling, like someone had walked on my grave, stopped, then took a piss, before continuing on. Usually, if I don't recognize the number, I let the voice mail kick in, but for some really weird reason, I picked up and said hello. The silence was deafening when I heard his voice. It brought back so many memories, memories I wished I had lost. And this pisses me off, because the moment we started talking, it felt just like...well...just like old friends. There was no awkward chit nor was there awkward chat. We started laughing, joking, reminiscing about the good old days. Time spent apart didn't seem to tarnish the connection we had since the first moment we met. And I fucking hate that. He doesn't deserve a place of honor here, not when I can't have him. We spoke for over an hour, remembering times when we were alone. He's married and has a little girl, and though he went on and on about his baby, he never mentioned her, not once. And I fucking hate that as well. Who the fuck does he think he is? Acting like the divide between us didn't exist. Acting like he didn't choose a life that didn't have a place for me. Towards the end, I finally asked the question, why did you call me? Why didn't Dave call me to tell me the news? He answered, but it was so weak neither one of us wanted to acknowledge it. If for only an hour, we were together again. He kept saying that he had to get a new cell number, that his old company was overcharging him. Which was why I didn't recognize the number. I wonder, if he called me, just to make sure I had his new number. Did he want me to have his number? Did he want me to stay in touch? Did he remember that in three days it will be eleven years since we first met? Does he even care? A part of me hopes he does care, but another part, the biggest part, knows he can't. Regrets are something everyone can afford, but changing a mistake isn't that easy. You can't change who you are, you can only hide. Hiding destroys the best part of you, hiding destroys your ability to tell the truth. I wonder if I ever got the truth, I wonder if he could even tell the truth. After we hung up, I re-wrote this piece, something I had written a few months ago but felt something was missing. Oh Jason, how you stir my creativity. My fragile friend, my elusive muse. And Now You Know By: Jason R. You called me up on the phone today It was a struggle to find the words to say They say time can heal all the wounds But I?ve been sick since before the womb Just so you know I?m not the one that you once knew That lonely kid all alone in school I?ve made a new life accepted it all I embraced the name you wrote on the wall And you know When I needed you most you weren?t there More than alone and broke beyond repair I lost more of life reaping what you sow I don?t hate you but now you know When my father died I stole his last breath I was addicted to lust and flirting with meth My first trick was a boy with your face A suicidal thing with a beautiful taste And did you know Confronted my mother about the sins of the past Screamed at a tombstone about death too fast Wrote a thing or two about a boy named John Accepted the fact that most of me is wrong Just so you know When I needed you most you turned away You were afraid of what others might say So you stayed safe and I went to skid row I don?t hate you but now you know The question I ask is why the years of lies I know you liked me in between your thighs Each night you might lie next to your wife But I know you miss me and our secret life Yes I know In the end I guess I?m finally doing fine I?ve leveled out and reasoned the rhyme Next to me lies a boy I call best friend And yet if I had to I?d do it all over again And now you know

I don't know about the rest of you, but I miss the little fellow. The Raccoon that is, all my shoes are clean and I think the rabies cleared up as well.Wibby, come back please and destroy all the good will and love we have.Jason R.

Camy, kudo's on the sunshine. Though I prefer rain any day.To the Raccoon, each time you post I get a semi. And to the rest, Jason R.

I've hijacked poor Rad's blog enough already. As for the spanking and the orgy. *thinks about it*Maybe I'll have to write about it in my own blog.Jason R.

Umm...Des...for the record. I don't do anything gaily.*thinks about it for a moment*Well...maybe a few things gaily. But that's it.Jason R.

I was hoping you would take that comment as a joke, here at Awesome Dude we like to kid those we like. I think you're going to fit in around here just fine. Jason R.On a serious note, don't worry about coming out until you're ready. Or do like I did, just get caught by your father blowing your best friend in the living room one night after church. Think about it, I never had to worry about coming out. I kind of kicked the closet door down.

Ummm, excuse me, don't want to hijack this blog but....I'm going to.Des, WTF man. You wouldn't play doctor with me a few days ago, but now you're all about playing along with Rad, WIbby, and Camy. And I even threw in a pun for you, and yes, that mistake was intentional. "patiently"I know Rad is younger, cuter, smarter, faster, I know, you have the technology to build him better. But damn it, I've still got a few games of licking left in me...err...with me...whatever, you know what I mean. I just can't believe you'd throw me over for a younger model. Slips of the tongueWhat kind of name for a blog is that?Slips of the TongueI'd like to give him some tongueI mean...damn it RadJason R.