Age: 41
Sex: Male
Sexuality: Vensexual
Relationship: Worshipping Ven
Occupation: Angry Chef
Location: The Heights, NY. USA
Facebook: View

My Biography
That's one of the remarkable things about life.
It's never so bad that it can't get worse.

-Calvin and Hobbes

Mercurial, snarky and distractible.

I looked and looked at her, and knew as clearly as I know I am to die, that I loved her more than anything I had ever seen or imagined on earth, or hoped for anywhere else.

A friend of mine, when he was thirteen years old, he heard about "pegging." This is when a guy gets banged up the butt with a dildo. Stimulate the prostate gland hard enough, and the rumor is you can have explosive hands-free orgasms. At that age, this friend's a little sex maniac. He's always jonesing for a better way to get his rocks off. He goes out to buy a carrot and some petroleum jelly. To conduct a little private research. Then he pictures how it's going to look at the supermarket checkstand, the lonely carrot and petroleum jelly rolling down the conveyor belt toward the grocery store cashier. All the shoppers waiting in line, watching. Everyone seeing the big evening he has planned.

So my friend, he buys milk and eggs and sugar and a carrot, all the ingredients for a carrot cake. And Vaseline.

Like he's going home to stick a carrot cake up his butt.

At home, he whittles the carrot into a blunt tool. He slathers it with grease and grinds his ass down on it. Then ? nothing. No orgasm. Nothing happens except it hurts.

Then this kid, his mom yells it's suppertime. She says to come down, right now.

He works the carrot out and stashes the slippery, filthy thing in the dirty clothes under his bed.

After dinner he goes to find the carrot and it's gone. All his dirty clothes, while he ate dinner, his mom grabbed them all to do laundry. No way could she not find the carrot, carefully shaped with a paring knife from her kitchen, still shiny with lube and stinky.

This friend of mine, he waits months under a black cloud, waiting for his folks to confront him, And they never do. Ever. Even now he's grown up, the invisible carrot hangs over every Christmas dinner, every birthday party. Even Easter-egg hunts with his kids, his parents grandkids, that ghost carrot is hovering over all of them.

That's something too awful to name.

Not being a poet, and drunk as well,
leaning into the diner and dawn
and hearing a juke box mockery of some better
human sound
I wanted rhetoric
but could only howl the rotten truth
Norman Luboff
should have his nuts ripped off with a plastic fork.
Then howled around like a man with the
final angst,
not knowing what I wanted there
Probably the waitress, bend her double
like a safety pin,
Deposit the mad seed before they
tie off my tubes
. . .

Suddenly a man with wild eyes rushed
out from the wooden toilet
Foam on his face and waving a razor
like a flag, shouting
. . .
We'll take our vengeance now!
. . .

We rang for Luboff
on the pay phone, but there was
no contact
. . .

Get a Lawyer, I said. These swine have gone
far enough.
Now is the time to
lay a writ on them,
Cease and Desist
. . .

The legal man agreed
We had a case and indeed a duty to
Right these Wrongs, as it were
The Price would be four thousand in front and
ten for the nut.
I wrote him a check on the Sawtooth
National Bank,
but he hooted at it
While rubbing a special oil on
his palms
To keep the chancres from itching
beyond endurance
On this Sabbath.
. . .
Later, from jail
I sent a brace of telegrams
to the right people,
explaining my position.

Probably good advice if you've got shit for brains..

Can we in fact pretend that she is anything other than a woman scorned, like which fury Hell hath no? We cannot.