Jason Rimbaud

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.

*looks around* *shrugs*I know you can't be calling me a nice guy.*growls*That's not very nice of you at all.I'm a piece of shit and hate all...oh look, butterflies. Weeeeeeee*takes off chasing the beautiful winged creatures*Jason R.

Hey Rad, you have more balls than me. I don't think I would bring the wrath of that crazy raccoon on me. Though I'm glad someone has stepped up to put him in his place. Very funny though. Jason R.

Damn Camy, why do I feel like giving you a hug? Then taking you out for a few pints, where we can play music and drink until the sun comes up. I always think that the answers to lifes greatest mysteries are found at the bottom of a bottle. Then again, I've never been the best role model. Or so my father always said. But he was crazy. Hang in there, one of the greatest things about humans is our ability to cope with just about anything. Sooner or later, the answers always come.Jason R.PS: if you have any drugs you don't need anymore, ship them over.

Trab,I thought it was decided that we would never tell Camy just where baby oil comes from. You know how sensitive he is. I thought you knew better.Jason R. And Rad, that was the best answer I've heard yet. Brilliant.Jason R.

Questions We Don?t Ask but Should Question One: Ever wonder about those people who spend $6.00 apiece on those tiny bottles of Evian water? Try spelling Evian backwards. Question Two: If 4 out of 5 people suffer from diarrhea?does that mean that one actually enjoys it? Question Three: If people from Poland are called Poles, then why aren?t people from Holland called Holes? Question Four: Do infants enjoy infancy as much as adults enjoy adultery? Question Five: If a pig loses its voice, is it disgruntled? Question Six: Why do croutons come in airtight packages, aren?t they just stale bread to begin with? Question Seven: Why is a person who plays the piano called a pianist, but a person who drives a racecar is not called a racist? Question Eight: Why isn?t the number 11 pronounced onety-one? Question Nine: If lawyers are disbarred, clergymen defrocked, then what would an electrician, musician, cowboys, models, tree surgeons, and dry cleaners be if they were thrown out of their profession? Question Ten: If Fed Ex and UPS were to merge, what would they call it? Question Onety-One: Do Lipton Tea employees take coffee breaks? Question Twelve: What hair color do they put on the driver?s licenses of bald men? Question Thirteen: People tend to read the Bible more often the older they get, are they cramming for their final? Question Fourteen: I thought about how mothers feed their babies with tiny little spoons and forks, so I wonder, do Chinese mothers use toothpicks? Question Fifteen: Why do they put pictures of criminals up in the Post Office? What are we supposed to do, write them? Why don?t they just put their pictures on the postage stamps, so that the mailmen can look for them while they are delivering the mail? Question Sixteen: If it?s true that we are here to help others, then what exactly are the others here for? Question Seventeen: Why is it that you never really learn to swear until you learn to drive? Question Eighteen: If lightening wouldn?t zigzag, what would the speed be? Question Nineteen: Whatever happened to Preparations A through G? Question Twenty: Did you ever notice that when you put the two words ?the? and ?IRS? together, it spells ?theirs??

It's 2:39 pm on a Sunday, here in Redwood City California. And I think, just think, maybe, I might be in love. Jason R.

Ummmmmm...Camy........Emu's don't howl. *checks tape of awesome emu sounds* Yep, Emu's don't howl. Are you really an Emu? Jason R.

*grabs doctor costume from the closet* *washes in Tide with blue snuggles fabric softner**puts doctor costume on**waits patiently for Des to come over and play*

Thanks Hoppi!!!I kind of dig your blog too. Very unusual, I likes.Jason R.

Hey Des, Are you sure it warrants being a short story? It's more like a rant about commercials.Trab,You make me blush. Which is almost impossible to do as I am completely sunburned. Jason R.