Straight Girls.... Oh My

“So, I have a funny story for you. I signed up for match.com last month, even though I knew it was going to be ridiculous and a waste. I even signed up and paid for the 6 month subscription. I know, I’m an idiot, even I know that I just threw that money away. But, so check it.”

Yeah, you and I both know that this is only going to end well. Thank you GameShow Network for putting me in your Green Room for the past two days. The following discussion (with interjections from my point of view and experience) could not have made it all worthwhile. The quotes are from my new friend, Stacy, while we were waiting to go on a Dating Game Show for GSN. Yes, she just came forth with her insight and beliefs into dating, prior to us going on and finding dates… I think that should bring everyone to my state of mind now.

“I mean, I knew that I was going to be dealing with crazies the whole time. I mean, who else am I going to find on a website, right?” (cue the biggest shit eating grin from me you’ll ever see; not to mention the conscience angel and demon on my shoulder fighting over what I should be responding with).

“And, you know that you can send that ‘wink’ thing to someone to show your interest. Guys wink all the damn time. It’s ridiculous. And some of them, when you don’t respond, or when you blow them off, then send you messages like, ‘Oh, playing hard to get now.’

No you dumb fuck, I don’t want anything to do with you.”

Sound logic, you’d think that everyone would get this. In my mind, if you didn’t have the balls to go out and meet someone online and are playing the Keyboard Warrior to find friends, you therefore have forfeited your right to complain when you get shot down via the click of a mouse.

“Well, finally, I winked at some guy that I thought may be alright. I got a message back from him right away, ‘Hey, I’m at work and can’t see your pic, email me.’” (My alarms scream- “I’m too cheap to actually pay for this site, and I’m not looking for anything but a booty call, be ready)

“So, I emailed him my pic, from an old email account that I never use anymore, and am not going to log in again anytime soon. He gets the email, and then sends me a message that says to text him. So I do, and ask him what to text him about.” (Cue cheesy scene from He’s Just Not That Into You with Drew Barrymore explain the 8 ways you get rejected now playing in my head.)

“So then, he texts back, ‘I hope it isn’t too big for you.’” (Cue “To Catch A Predator” theme music, right?)

“So I’m like ‘WTF, what are you talking about?’ Then I start to think, did he just email me something on that account. I never check it. Oh, no shit, he had to have. So I send back real quick ‘You didn’t sent me something elicit did you?’ to which he replies ‘Uh Oh’.” (REALLY!? YOU’RE SURPRISED ABOUT THIS. GIRL, I SHOULD SLAP YOU UPSIDE THE DAMN HEAD)

“So he tells me that he just wanted to make sure that I knew, cause he’s huge, allegedly. I’m like, ‘really, that’s so nice of you, to just let me know’… What the fuck! Don’t send the pic of your cock, that’s not going to do it for me. ‘You just wanted to let me know’. Are you out of your damn mind? Fine, I ‘just wanted to let you know’ that I need a guy to spend $3000 on me before I’m going to do anything. No girl is really thinking, ‘oh shit, that’s a penis, I’m on him’. Dumbass, read my profile and you’ll know what I’m looking for. I don’t want to date your motorcycle. I’m not here for your dick… well I am looking for some, but that’s not why I spent stupid money on a stupid site to meet a guy. If I just wanted a dick I’d go to the bar and ask to see your dick then and there. I know why you take pics without anything but your hand to really make you look bigger. ‘Just to let you know’, boy, you’re out of your damn mind. A dick is a dick is a dick, and we can all take all and any of them. It’s what our pussy does. Cell phones need an emoticon that flips you the bird and just says ‘Fuck Off’.”

Oh, no, it still gets better. Because you see, this wasn’t really a conversation to and with me; I was just the innocent bystander. It was really between the two girls that were in the waiting room with me.  For the most part, this was the single handedly most useful and insightful discussion about what women want that I’ve ever heard. Yes, most of it was based around the concept that they were meeting people online, but still. You’ll see.

You see, Stacy had recently gotten out of a relationship (2 years ago) and was pretty burned by it (I gathered by the bitterness and the truths I’d mistaken for sarcasm). Meanwhile, Leah, I don’t think had been burned, but was checking out varying options. She even admitted, “I don’t check my dating profile every day, creeper, just when I have the time here and there, and when I actually think that it’d be nice to try and date soon.” (as in, she knows she has tomorrow night off)

These two women had proven to me that they know what’s going on with the online world and men a lot more than virtually any of the guys (read this as a spoiler/Cheat-sheet, I’m giving you the keys to the online dating world now; something that I had even been unable to crack). They had pointed out that many of the guys are using the online world to meet women and to shoot for the quick hook-up scenario. Most of the guys, based off their aloofness and the inability to contact them most of the day, led them to believe that they had other women, more than likely wives and or girlfriends.

The girls proceeded to laugh and the common fact that all guys profiles have common portfolios:

1-      One obligatory picture on a rock. (Cause then they seem solid)

2-      Several pics of their cars, motorcycles, dogs, homes and other things.

The comedy in these pics were that every guy always thinks that you want to see his cock before really meeting in person, and will thus either have the penis pic posted on the profile, or will send it to you soon. Tied with number one, the generalization that all guys are Neanderthals and need to have “One Cock and One Rock” to make them seem huge. These guys are always the disappointments as well.

The other, is that guys are trying to lure the girls in with their things. “Am I trying to date your motorcycle? I mean, I know that works for some girls, but leave that to the actual date to let me know you ride. I’m here for you, not your things.” (tell me you all picked up on that goldmine right there!)

So, fellas, if you’re trying to genuinely pick up on a girl online, leave the bonehead out of the profile that is supposed to make you look good.

Then, as was no surprise to me, there was the lengthy discussion about how the guys don’t seem to know how to seal the deal. You’re contacting one another. You’ve emailed, texted, maybe even talked on the phone. Who knows, maybe you got real crazy and met at a coffee shop or something too. You’re still talking after all of this! So why won’t you make the move? You say things like “I can’t wait to see you again” and “We should go out (again)” and then you leave it at that. What the Fuck!? Cowboy up dumbass.

In some of the most insightful commentary I’d ever heard, both girls (one headstrong and pretty independent, the other… we’ll get to her, but let’s stick with the opposite for now) had admitted that they DO want a guy that will take charge, but DO NOT want or need the guy to be the A-Type personality, or the total “Man’s Man”. You don’t have to completely overshadow her and dictate her every move and action throughout your time together. These women are not looking for someone to make their decisions and to control their every move. However, they are looking for a guy that will go for what he wants, and will take a bit of initiative in the situations. You said you wanted to see her again, fucking get off your ass and set up an actual date. Remember, she’s still talking to you. You haven’t crossed a line; you’re not going to offend her. But for the love of god, just get on it you pansy-assed-mother-fucker.

Now, that all being said, of course she’s not asking you out, because she wants to know that you can take care of her for some things. She wants to see you at least take her out, and pay for her at least a few times at the beginning. Let’s be honest, this is how dating works! Take her out, make her dinner, do a few things for her to at least show that you can take care of her when she needs it, or really wants it. News Flash boys (I’ll use boys for now because we all are obviously not ready enough to be men in these situations), with the growing independent, self sufficient woman running alongside us all, that girl is only going to let you pay for her so often. Given this, you’re not going to be paying her way for the rest of your lives. If this is the reason that you’re running scared (read, being a cheap bastard) then give up on the idea of finding a woman, and mail-order your bride to be, so you can lock her up in the closet when you leave during the day, and she can’t spend your money.

Now, the other girl, the one that had initiated this entire discussion, followed by the insight into the women’s psyche towards the modern woman in the dating world, had let me in on her whole idea towards dating. For the following part, I’m including this only to give you a heads up as to what we have all suspected for a while, and to let you know that it’s all a scam!

Yes, the woman who signed up for the site, and texted with the guy, and who was joining me on this dating show, is an independent woman, and is strong, smart, and driven. However, after getting burned (2 years ago) she has decided that: Men have to control their women; and any good man you could want needs to take care of you.

Ok, let’s analyze this a little bit. She (and I’m sure a significant portion of the female population) have come to the conclusion that they guys that fucked them over before, did it because them (the women) were too strong and independent, and therefore scared away their man. So, in adaptation, these women are now playing the Damsel in Distress, and feigning their lack of common sense, ability to function within society or by themselves without the aid of a man, so that they may snag a man.

What. The. Fuck.

I mean, I kind of get it, right? I get that there was some guy, or slew of guys, that somewhere along the line were totally de-emasculated by their women, and strayed, leaving behind a broken hearted wake of despair. Or, contrarily, the woman was the one that wore the pants, and was cleaned out by the Sally-assed-little-Bitch of a man that they had to coddle and tend to. Unfortunately, this isn’t a rare practice for anyone. (Golddigger? Hello?!)

Let’s just be honest here though, what kind of guy are you really going to find, when you’re totally faking yourself for him too? You’re leading a double life just so that you have someone that thinks they’re taking care of you and are therefore doing what you think that they’re supposed to be doing? You’re creating a false persona and mentality just so that you don’t get burned like you did before. Well, we can at least admit that the second is absolutely true. You will NOT get burned like you did before, because you’ll get burned twice as bad when you get dumped by the guy that you convinced yourself you had to like, because he liked the fake you, therefore dumping you essentially twice, by dumping or cheating on you, and the fake you.Ouch. Right?

But, then again, that is the game that is dating. We consistently make and mold ourselves into the person that we feel and think that the person we’re trying to be with wants to be with. Compromising and adapting to each other after the fact is a different story. Creating a character for the person to like, that isn’t really you probably isn’t going to work. That makes sense right?

Of course this is all much easier said than done. 

An Update to I Fucked Up

I was going to wait until I had the results of my Blood Test and what my actual B.A.C. was for the night in question, but I won't find those out until sometime between the 5th and 7th of July, and I think that some of the point to my posting has been missed, and is not something that we should be taking lightly, especially in the summer and especially with the 4th of July coming up.

Yes, I did fuck up and I drove under the influence. Even when I read my own posting, I get the visual of a staggering belligerent guy trying to perform the Roadside Sobriety Test with the Police Officers. This was not the actual case. I am not trying to fully defend myself, but rather to raise the awareness of the entire situation, in an attempt to help you all out as well.

I know that I had put in my previous posting the catalogue of my consumption that night. But, to further make it clear, my level of intoxication was equal to that of having one (1) drink (a beer, glass of wine or a shot) and then getting behind the wheel. That is how "drunk" I was.

Now, this being said, I'm not questioning if this is a legit claim to call someone "Under the Influence". Obviously, and literally, it is. Of course there is a barrage of variables that will raise and lower the level of intoxication per individual, and thus their level of "Drunkenness". However, as far as I can assume, there is a drastic minority that can say that ALWAYS after they've had 1 drink, they don't touch the wheel of a car until at least 12 hours later.

I had originally put my posting up in full humility and shame for what I had done, and to accept my fate for acting irresponsibly. I still fully stand behind everything that I have said, and that everyone is lecturing to me. I did it, it was my fault, and I'm accepting the consequences.

Am I beating myself up a little more than I probably should? Maybe. But I made a promise to myself and to my family and my friends that I would NEVER drive under the influence. I had assumed that my 2 1/2 hour buffer window between drinking and getting behind the wheel was enough for the alcohol to fully work itself out of my system, and to not put ANYONE at risk.

I wanted everyone reading it to see that even when we think that we're ok, and when we've been pacing ourselves responsibly throughout the evenings, sometimes we are wrong. Sometimes it is NOT enough. I got my wake up call.

I ask, have you yet?

I do not wish for this to be a "Soap Box Speech" or for anyone to think that I'm preaching our indiscretions. I simply wanted to bring to light the facts as I have seen them, as I had been taught them and as I experienced them myself. I see more and more people getting DUIs seemingly more often then those getting Speeding Tickets. I'm hoping that this is a result of MADD and our institutions taking a more active role into stopping Driving Under the Influence, and not society being more and more irresponsible towards drinking and driving.

Thank you again, for all of you that have said something, either sharing, or expressing your gratitude towards the subject. It's not a fun one to discuss, for any reason, and from any side. But it means more to me than you can know that it meant something to you, and that you are taking account for you and those around you.

Thank you again for everything, sincerely.

I'll try to return to more light-hearted and fun stories soon.

JB

I Fucked Up

What had happened wazzz…

Friday I found myself somehow playing for the evening in San Diego. I had no intentions of leaving LA, or for staying in SD when I did find myself there; you know, kind of the usual night out type horror story beginning chapter. I had made a couple calls as I neared the town, trying to meet up with a wide assortment of varying friends, though still looking to keep the night pretty low-key.

It had started early enough, that I wasn’t too particularly worried about where I was, or what I was drinking. Though, I did also know that with my intentions to drive back to LA at the end of the evening, I would be drastically pacing myself to allot for the commute and the hour later on.

Throughout the evening, starting at about 7p, I started off the night with Tommy, grabbing a beer and a shot at bar number 1. After our drinks were finished, and we hand mingled long enough that early, we made our way to bar 2, by means of Tommy’s house so he could change. I had been prepped to know the new location was going to be more of the meat-head, frat boy type bars (read long bar lines with a predominant douchey clientele). While this is not particularly my favorite scene, with the nature of the night, I was ok with this; especially because I would be meeting up with Tucker (from the Vegas trip some months ago).

While at the PB bars, I managed to consume 2 Bud Lights, a Fat Tire, a Sierra Nevada and another Shot, and having cut myself off at roughly 12-1230a. That brings our total for the night to: 2 shots and 5 beers between 7p and 1230a. I am not making this point to boast that I drink, nor am I boasting that I am a lightweight. I felt nothing, not even the beginning twinkle of an impending buzz.  I am simply stating for the record what I had consumed while enjoying the San Diego scene.

I did meet up with Tommy again around 115, where I blatantly refused to pay a $10 cover for a club that:

1-      Would be making last call in 15 minutes.

2-      I wouldn’t be drinking in whether it was open for an hour or for 5 minutes.

Needless to say, I could have cared less, but somehow managed to find the group that was in the bar out on the sidewalk ready to after-party and bringing me with them. I figured that it was harmless enough and early enough I could use the extra time to really let the drinks I’d had dissipate before I decided whether or not to continue on home.

While the people that I did know at the party were great to be around, there was an assortment of others that, while nice and good people (for the most part), were also a little more party than I prefer my taste. I felt bad refusing several substances every couple minutes, and found myself more and more antsy to make my way home to my own bed, or at least to a place that I could get some sleep without the interruption, or being “that guy” at the party. Not to mention, I was a bit nervous about my car on the main street at a meter. So, I politely made my goodbye’s and made my way out of the building.

I cannot deny that I was torn 4 different ways at that point as well.

1-      To the nearest Jack In The Box for some much needed dinner.

2-      To my own bed 2 hours north in the Los Angeles area.

3-      To the girl in San Diego’s place I had been seeing months prior, to have a much needed discussion.

4-      To the couch in Tommy’s house that was winning the battle.

My phone was blowing up as I was trying to find my way out and around and to my destination. Turmoil sucks, and a slight hint of fatigue will not help with making convicted decisions at the same time. I did find myself a bit farther north than I wanted to be, when I decided that Tommy’s couch was the best and winning idea.

Unfortunately, I didn’t actually know how to get to Tommy’s on my own, so I needed the aid of my phone, and in the process of discovering and plotting my course on my iPhone, I had swerved a little on the highway, in the view of a California Highway Patrol car.

Fuck.

Cherries went. Officer approached. I responded, disclosing fully and honestly every question he had. “Yes I’d had a few drinks this evening”; where I was coming from, where I was heading and the like. Given the opportunity again, you better damn believe that I’d answer everything EXACTLY as I had then. 

Unfortunately, I had not done the proper amount of math, and had not given myself enough time to fully dissipate the alcohol in my system. I may have passed all the playground games that the officer had me perform to prove my sobriety, but I did not pass the breathalyzer test, and I blew a .08.

I may be the most neutral, objective, supportive and sympathetic person you ever know. I may find your silver lining and congratulate you for everything that you’ve ever done, that you’ve ever wanted to do, despite what everyone else may think. That being said, there is only one thing that I will NEVER be sympathetic towards, that I won’t hold your hand through, and that I won’t sugar coat for you. If you drive drunk I will give you shit, I will support any form of authority that called you out, and I will never joke about it with you to help you get over it.

I personally will not drive until I feel like I’m at 100%. I know that for the most part we all say this, and more often than not it’s never a true statement when we get behind the wheel. I am part of a minority that keeps myself in check. I know that in my line of work, I’m almost expected to be a massive partier and drinker. In all actuality, I’m not. I enjoy my drinks, don’t get me wrong; but I do have to be in the right mindset and mood to really drink and or get drunk. I typically am the guy that makes sure everyone else is ok and has a reliable and safe ride, either by me, or by some other form of responsible transportation. It is not uncommon for me to ride my bicycle to meet up and pick up my friends, no matter the distance nor time, and drive them home or wherever we need to be.

Friday night, I thought I was good, as I had stated before, and never felt any sort of the effects of alcohol in my system, and I had paced myself, believing that I had kept myself not only at a LOW B.A.C. level, but at a responsible level regardless. For this, I will shun any sympathy you may offer, or any support you may have. I fucked up and I will accept my responsibilities for my actions on my own. Thank you anyway, but please, there is never an excuse. Never.

However, while I’ve now divulged more information leading up to the actual point of this story, the rest only gets better and better.

I feel that because of my compliance and willingness to submit to the officer’s requests, they had treated me with equal respect and kindness. They didn’t impound my car, but they moved it to a parking lot that would be safe for the weekend. They held friendly conversation and explained to me exactly what I could expect for my booking and processing, and how to glide through it as easily as possible. They also were kind enough to copy a couple phone numbers down for me, and put them on a sticker they stuck to my shirt (you know, like the kindergartner with the “I can call Tommy at 555-1234”). For this I fully thank CHP Officers Witte and Ryman.

If I do say so myself, I also managed to take quite a good looking Mug-Shot, and am currently working on getting that picture for my headshot portfolio. I mean, if you look good at the absolute worst, you should look good everywhere and for anything.

However, if the fucking city of San Diego could remove each other’s heads from each other’s asses, that’d be great. I know that we broke the law. I know that we are the ones that do deserve to be detained and prosecuted. I also know that for the most part, the others were quite a handful and headache to deal with. They were still respectful towards those of us that were well behaved and compliant, half the time.

I lost count how many rooms I was moved to in the labyrinth that is San Diego County Jail. I had no idea who I was really dealing with most of the time, but I knew that I needed to make phone calls to let people know what was going on, and to especially post bail. I mean, the fine institution that is our cities jailing systems are great and all, but I’ll take my hot assed tent, on a hot ass island any day of the week over the cold steel benches, reeking of urine and yeti, dog-piling for a semi-sleep able position atop the mountain of miscreants.  Why they still decided to confuse us with where we were blew my mind. But, it totally made sense when one other poor guy and I were left behind. (Where’s W when you need him)

In all our changes and processing’s, they had somehow forgotten who we were, and why we were there. I hoped that meant that our charges had also been dropped, seeing as how they didn’t know where we were supposed to be. Though, in my cell mate’s defense, he was probably safer in the tank rather than with his sister waiting on the outside. (He was busted with her rental car, and also caused them to miss their returning flight to Maryland Saturday as well. All this was after she had vehemently requested that he not go to San Diego, and that he especially not drink. Yeah, even though we were bonded, he was still a dead man walking.)

14 hours later, and repeated discussions with Officer Bourgeois was kind enough to ride all of the departments to find our missing paperwork and get us processed. I think he was just as frustrated with the cluster fuck that the system was becoming. I mean, we had been booked for DUI’s at 3a, and were now looking at 5p the following day, with our 28 delinquent comrades having all been sprung hours before us.

I know that I had pretty much Roulette determined my Bail Bondsman from the list next to the phones, but I could not have been more impressed with how he too had ridden the San Diego City Jail team to find us and process us, hours after they had stated that we were released.

Though, in an awkward turn, after being sprung, I went to fill out the paperwork with my bondsman, only to have him offer me a beer once we had finished the paperwork, and as I was heading out the door to return to LA. Yes, they man that bonded me out of jail for DUI offered me a beer for the road.

While even I’m kicking myself for doing what I despise the most, I still have to think, What The Fuck!?

Anyway, while this was a long, and not quite as interesting story depicting a recent day in my life, I share this, again not for sympathy and support, but rather of humility and awareness.

1-      While a DUI sounds like our favorite Disney cartoon nephew, there is nothing funny about it. People are killed every day by people that were stupid enough to drink and drive. I love to party, though I’m a vanilla partier and usually “designated Dave” out of my groups, I fully support your right to be redonkulous and to drink yourself into oblivion. I could care less if you’re a Veteran and you “earned your right” to destroy yourself, you also put everyone else on the road at risk around you, and while you could care less if you hurt yourself in your own stupidity, I like my friends and would like to keep them around. Drink and Hike if you want to be risky. Drink and swim. Drink and whatever you want alone. You’re not alone on the roads.

2-      As I stated before, I have no sympathy or remorse towards your unfortunate circumstances resulting in your obtaining a night in jail and that tag that says, “I’ve driven under the influence”. Trust that this is the same riot act that I’m reading to myself.

3-      Even though it seems to be a burden and it instills the fear of god into all of us when we hear those impending buzz-kill words (pun really not intended there) “DUI Checkpoint ahead/at…”, the Zero-Tolerance movement is probably one of the most effective movements the country is participating in (Vampires withstanding). You will get caught, no matter how safe you think you are.

I beg, please take a cab, or make sure that you have a REAL Designated Driver for your party. I thought I was being totally responsible and safe, and I’m glad that I was called out on it. I’ll definitely be changing my ways even more, out of respect for all of you, and for anyone around me. That’s not fair for them for me to put them in that position.

I do ask that you see this and do the same for yourself, for your loved ones, and for your neighbors, even if they’re only your neighbor on that stretch of road. 

Who Doesn't Love a Blowjob?

Because no one has shared with everyone the proper blowjob, or the horror stories, or the legendary ones, I felt it only appropriate to make my nod towards the subject. Fortunately, I get to be one of the guys that can share ALL sides of the subject.

Now, for some slight humor in the subject, I lost my virginity before I received my first blow job. For having been quite open in my sexual exploitations and adventures, I also had never had road head until this year, but what a way to bring in the New Year it was. I have always been a fan of using my mouth, and have used it more than I have my own cock. But, another slightly humorous fact, I’m not the biggest fan of head. I love a great BJ, just as much as the next guy, but I’ve only cum from 2 people doing it, and the bad ones have more than run out the good ones.

There are just as many techniques as there are people giving head, if not even more ways to do it, because we’ll all try something a little different. There’s the overly enthusiastic Face Fuck, and the Lazy Lick. Every guy is different in how he wants it, and is going to be able to enjoy it. Some of us are so sensitive on the head of our cock that it borders on painful, and kills the experience. Others, if you were to lick it twice would erupt like Old Faithful. The Kung-fu twist, like you’re trying to open a jar of pickles may not be the best experience for anyone. Please, love our Dick, and it’ll love you too.

I have a constant epic battle with my own cock. I’m horny all the time, and I can be hard in moment’s notice. However, I sometimes have no feeling, or am too sensitive, and I’m especially ticklish in most of the area surrounding the playground in my pants. I cannot express the turmoil enough here. With me, you have to own my dick. You can’t be light with it, but while I need you to use force with it, do not be forceful. Listen to your partner like this.

There are two (2) giant clues to how you can go about giving head that everyone should be able to notice immediately.

1-      

            1- If he’s not hard, or losing his hard on, back off a little. No cock gets softer before it cums.

2-     2-  If it’s hurting your mouth, it’s hurting his dick.

My dick is perfectly designed to be deep-throated, in the 69 position ONLY. I curve up a little, therefore I hit the roof of your mouth when your laying on my legs, or sitting on your knees. Don’t try to take me down your throat like that, it doesn’t feel good for either one of us.

We’ve all seen you look at my dick when you pull it out to grab a breath of air, if it looks smaller or softer, don’t keep doing that. We want you to have just as much fun giving us head as you want to give it. If you hate giving it, don’t. If you feel like you really want to, do it, but for only as long as you want to.

Yes, many, many guys would rather have a BJ than fuck (ridiculous) but we can tell the ones that are desired versus dutifully done. I do know how sore your jaw gets. I do know what it’s like to choke on it a little. But I especially know when it’s good. Surprise us.

And please remember: Never go to the asshole without warning. That will never end well

An Actual Catch Up to The Disappearance of Me

I would like to apologize to all of you that have been checking and awaiting further stories from me over the past few weeks. Of course, by weeks, I mean months.

Well, as we all know, I could totally post an Epic Poem recounting everything that had gone down over the past time. But, I'll do my best to keep this short and sweet.

I was abducted by Canadian Geese, traveling North for the Summer, and I don't remember how or where I returned, but there was some girl from True-Blood leading us to our Final Destination via a bicycle powered hang-glider... remember that one? Me neither.

Anyway, since I had last posted, most of you may or may not have seen and or heard what has been going on. To quickly wrap it up:

-Channel 1 Releasing and I have parted ways, as far as my "Exclusive" title goes. (though, this actually happened just prior to my departure for Australia)

-I spent a little over a week in Florida, claiming my spot amongst the amazing stable that is the the FabScout family.

-I spent an epic weekend in Chicago with the majority of the Gay Porn World and hosted the Grabby's with Chi Chi LaRue, Honey West, Diesel Washington and Roman Heart.

Now, for the quick "wrap-up". For those of you wondering why Channel 1 and I parted ways, all you need to know is that it was friendly and in each others best interests; obviously as it had shown on the stage in Chicago. I still hold the C1R Family as my own, and will continue to support them throughout the rest of my career.

Now, my week in Florida could not have been any better. Howard and the rest of the guys that were there were an absolute pleasure. I have always loved Howard and the boys that he keeps, for their energy, enthusiasm, friendliness and professionalism. Yes, this is always with a few exceptions, but for Howard's Birthday we made sure to try and keep everything there under control for him. Howard's Birthday activities saw surprise appearances by Austin Wilde and Ryan Raz, and kept him surrounded by oh so many others.

I had the awesome opportunity to work with Bait Bus and the Bang Bros family down there, as well as a HOTT AS FUCK scene with Zach Alexander for Extra Big Dicks.Could not have been more entertained and cared for by all the guys down there.

Austin and I made sure to show South Florida just how we do it, and for those of you that were following our tweets those few precious days, got a great peek into our shenanigans. Of course, that may have led to our Grabby's displays...

Cut to the Grabby's:

Again, I can not thank everyone enough in their support in naming me the Fan Selected Co-Host; allowing me to share the stage with Chi Chi, Honey, Diesel and Roman. While the show may have been a little long for those of you in attendance, I felt quite a bit rushed to get back on that stage and fearfully grab that mic. Though, it went quite well, and I couldn't have been happier for all those that were there, that won, that were nominated, and that made it another memorable Memorial Day weekend, minus the Friday night pitchers of Long Island Iced Tea that my new friend Josh introduced me to.

I know that there were some things that went on throughout the weekend that kept us all laughing at misfortunes, and "drama", but in reality, it was  great weekend, and I couldn't have been more excited and happier to see and play with everyone. 

For the most part, as they cliche in Vegas: What happens at the Grabby's, stays at the Grabby's. 

Except for the silicone lube... that shit doesn't come off for shit. 

So now, we enter the summer, it's June, the clothes are becoming scarce, and the pools are floating with hot bodies. I'm sure we can make this into a better scenario for all of us. 

See ya out there ;-)

JB

Oh My Goodness, It's Been WAY Too Long

Hey there everyone,

My apologies in not updating this in what, 3 weeks? Shit, my bad. I finally got my computer to turn back on, and have been running around the country quite a bit over the past few weeks as well.

I hope that you're all enjoying your time out and about, and that you had a great kick off to the summer.

I'll have recaps of Florida, the Grabby's and some other bafoonery up here as soon as I can.

Love ya!

JB

Who Does This Shit?!

Months ago I had told a story of one of the dumbest experiences of my life. Granted, that is one killer story, and an experience that could not have taught me more about being prepared and making wise decisions. That all being said, this is close, and a lot more recent.

In my New Zealand posting I had mentioned that we stopped for a couple nights in Lake Taupo, and that one of the days, we split off into groups, Pete and Ann Marie having gone Fly Fishing, and Naughty-D and I having gone bungee jumping.

Now, for those of you that have followed me, or watched and heard my life’s adventures and antics, many of you would not be too surprised to hear that I was going bungee jumping. However, those of you that actually know me and have hung out with me should also know that I have stated point blank, “I will never go bungee jumping.”

I do know a bit of the history of the sport, namely that it was officially or at least commercially started in New Zealand some 30ish years ago. I know that there have been several advancements and or evolutions to the sport to make it that much safer. Still, bungee jumping is just one of those things that I have and hold no desire to do.

Of course, then steps in my competitive nature. Yes, I could have gone with Pete and Ann Marie for a morning of fishing. Though truth-be-told, I kind of hate fishing, or at least non deep sea fishing. However, high adrenaline stupid shit is right up my alley.

Naughty-D had been the one planning on jumping since putting together the trip years ago. She had been once before, or more, we didn’t really get into the semantics of “I did it before”. I can’t say that she really researched the location that we were going to, but I’m sure she had a little more information on the location, other than the fact that we passed it and she saw it when we pulled into town 36 hours before hand.

She knew that this was also one of those ideas that you think up, go to, sign up, and jump within about an hour total, before common sense kicks in and you leave. Fortunately, Bungy Taupo operates under this perfect principle as well.

We had pulled up, her half excited and half nervous; as I was still pretty sure that I was NOT going to be hurling myself like a paddle ball in any direction. Though admittedly, that sure percentage was rapidly lowering. None of this was helped as we walked out towards the outcrop, to watch a few jumpers, and scope the setting.

The Bungy Tapuo location was absolutely gorgeous (pun intended). The plank stretched well out into the gorge, 153 feet above the vibrant blue, yet crystal clear river cutting into the gray cliffs all around. The greens of the vegetation and the white doves flocking around could not have made for a more serene setting for your knowingly-going-to-fail attempt at suicide. Presumably.

Of course, with the photographer that is Naughty-D, we had more cameras that participants amongst us, and had to find just the right view for our photo-documentation of the asinine idea before us. We watched their live feed, and the video that you can buy of your jump. They also had a handful of set and rigged cameras to shot that as well from along your fall.

I think that we waited too long, because Naughty-D even started to question whether or not she was going to jump. I gave her that lame-pep talk from my hike (apparently I’m really good at that), and it still came down to a coin flip for her decision. She won, and we went in to go sign her up.

Enter my competitive nature. For some stupid fucking reason, I cannot simply go with anyone to do some stupid act that no one ever really has any business doing, and not have an impending desire to join them for the ride. I lead a lot of these ideas myself, but I can’t simply sit idly by while you do something that leaves you with a story. Dammit.

I grabbed the sheet to fill out, signing my life away. Though, while Naughty-D filled hers out, I held onto mine like a little kid with a teddy bear. Not letting it out of my sights, but I still had my preservations. Of course, just as Naughty-D went to line up, the jump-operators were scheduled for their “Safety Break”, giving us another half hour to decide our fates. Naughty-D was already committed; once you pay, there are no refunds. I still hadn’t filled out my form yet. Not that it was a problem I hadn’t either. Once you jump, you are lowered into a boat in the river, and have to walk back up to the top via some trail or stair case I never checked out. Meaning, even if I did decide to go, I was going to have to wait for her to come back and get the cameras; just as I couldn’t be taking pics of her from the Plank while I was in queue.

Naughty-D went, and without fail. She kind of half fell, half dove off the platform. She bounced a couple times, and was lowered into the boat. End Scene. I did get a ton of pics (that ended up being better than the package she bought) and a video on one of the little Canons.

Queue the competitive streak in me, and the hot blonde and her boy friend that came up as I was shooting. The blonde was excited, the man nervous, but he and I bonded in our nervous hesitations oddly in jumping strapped in, yet we had an affinity for Skydiving. Yes, he and I were nervous and all over falling a little over a hundred feet, but we’d jump thousands of feet from an airplane. No, it doesn’t make sense to us either. But of course, if Naughty-D does it, and the hot girl can do it, and now I have to be prove my manliness to this guy I don’t even know, my “I will never go bungee jumping” was sounding a bit like my “I’ll never work in a restaurant again” (I had said 3 month before beginning a 2 year stint at Red Robin Gourmet Burgers and Spirits).

Naughty-D found me, and after a brief talk of her jump and whether or not I was going, talked me into the fated Coin-Flip. I lost. So, we went in and signed me up. I dilly-dallied around for a couple more minutes, showing Naughty-D where I was standing for the pics, and where we had the best view. Then, hearing that they were looking to do another “Safety Break” (lunch) and that there was an hour and a half wait, decided to get in line immediately, especially seeing as how we were supposed to meet up with Pete and Ann Marie in 20 min (and we all know how patient Pete is).

I was standing behind this girl, Jasmine. Jasmine had been one of the biggest cheerleaders for so many people before her. She had cheered on people, that I don’t even think she knew, for well over an hour, and I think found herself in my predicament in a losing coin-flip, competitive need to keep up with the status quo of her friends. Granted, I don’t think that her friends coming up and saying “I can’t believe you’re going to do this crazy shit!” and “I’d rather have a baby than do this,” helped calm Jasmine any in her nervous state. Jasmine even at one point had looked at me and inquired “Have you always wanted to do this? Are you excited?”

My response: “FUCK NO! Actually, I have never wanted to go jumping. In fact for years I have said just that, ‘I will NEVER bungee jump.’ But, for some stupid reason, I’m here and I let my friend talk me into this. Granted, if I’m going to be stupid and do it anywhere, it’s gotta be here, at the birthplace, with the biggest drop, over the water, on a beautiful day.” I don’t think I hurt nor helped her situation.

When Jasmine finally got to the box, and was strapped in, I was the last in line before the operators break. Jasmine, as she was getting the ankle harness attached, was fighting the tears of her fright. She was trembling. It took her a good solid minute to waddle to the jump spot a mere 3 feet from her seat. She then took a good 45 minutes to jump. Everyone that was in her party, and waiting to jump post break had been cheering her on the entire time. I even did my best. 7 times the group led a countdown, to no jump by Jasmine at all. I listened to the music that they were playing, a great collaboration of Citizen Cope, Jason Mraz, the Roots and others. Finally, after 45 min, as Naughty-D was freaking out because we were late to meeting up with Pete and Ann Marie (assuming they were back), the operator pushed Jasmine, and she fell to her happy demise.

As I crossed the barrier into the cage to be strapped in, the operator told me, “You have 30 seconds to jump.” I knew he was joking, but that she’d also technically exhausted his break. I laughed and retorted with “I’ll probably take less time than that.”

They asked me if I wanted to be dipped (into the river), and I said yes. I figured “Just the Tips” or a “Heads Up” would suffice. I wasn’t feeling the full submersion of the “Baptism” or “Booby Surprise”. As soon as I was strapped in the every conversational operators (read sarcasm) led me to the edge, where I proceeded to look over, and down the gorge at the water.

You know that tunneling vision horror scenario that depicts in your sight. The one where you’re looking at something that is stationary, yet for some reason everything around it and you suddenly stretches and pulls and pushes kind of like the “warp speed” of Spaceballs, or Star Wars. Yeah, that shit happened to me as I stood there and it wasn’t cool. I stood there and looked down, and it stretched at pulled at me like a piece of taffy. I looked back up and at the operators and said, “Fuck no.”

Now, I know that they’re not privy to hearing that line more often an hour than “Thank you” or “Aaaahhhhhhhhhh”. I also know that they were ready for their break. But I also firmly believe that they also knew I wasn’t just nervous, I was certain. They replied with a quick, “You sure?” and I with, “Not. Going. To. Happen.”

No questions, no response, they just helped me get out of the harness, and we all went on our way. The crowd that only moments before had been cheering on Jasmine, who had then been watching with anticipation what I was going to do, survive, or scream, didn’t make a sound. Not one.  There were no groans and there were no sympathy whines, there were no cheers of support to change my mind, and there were no discussions audible between them. Simply they stood in silence, possibly shock. When Naughty-D took my hand as we walked back into the shop for the refund on the pics, not the jump, there were a few sympathetic sighs, but still for the most part, silence. I had to laugh. I still just stated, “Not going to happen.”

A Quick Follow Up to The Condom/Testing Bullshit

I do fully admit that I had run with a number and statistic that was volunteered to me, unsolicited, over the course of the past 6 months by studios, agents, performers and friends. These are people that I trust to be telling me the truth, especially when it is not a subject that could possibly benefit them to lie about. 

I have currently changed the numerical stat/"fact" to a much more realistic and absolute truth. Judge me if you will for my voicing this controversy, and one that will never end as long as any of us shall live. 

I was not trying to justify any particular work that I had done, nor promote any particular studio for their practices. I especially was not looking for a witch hunt, just as several other blogs had picked up on. For this I thank you. 

Several people and blogs had picked this up, and had twisted as they wanted to either discredit the points, or for their gain. I expected this as well. That's fine. As I had stated before, It's just porn. However, whereas many of the performers are told that they're on a "safe sex" set because they're using condoms, I was pointing out that they may not be as safe as they would like. 

Yes, I do know the circumstances that are involved in contracting particular STIs, and the likelihood of contracting anything via condoms for the sex is drastically reduced. I'm not a paranoid person, but I do know what risks I would like to reduce myself. I do know that it would take a particularly superfluous situation for anything to happen on a condom-only set.

I did not particularly agree with the conviction of many critics, citing that the straight porn side was so much less careful and unsafe in their practices, and that gay porn was that much safer for using condoms. I didn’t agree, and never had, that my practices on one had shown that my personal beliefs were that one was safer and cleaner than the other. In my mind, they are both just as risky, and just as “safe”.  

I admit that in either case, I’m putting myself at risk; just as anyone else having sex is at risk. I am not pushing the test over condoms, just as I’m not pushing condoms over the test. Please note that I am and was simply, and objectively, stating what I knew to be true, as it had been presented to me, and as I had come to discover through my own experiences and research.

I do have to admit, that in all of this, the thing that really kind of catalyzed the whole “rant”, was that I did not agree with being paired up in a scene with an HIV+ performer, against my knowledge. This is a practice that is quite common, apparently.  

The whole posting is something I’ve been working on for months; as I’ve been questioned about it for years. But, with the increasing inquiries and commentary regarding me and my practices increased over the past few months, I felt that regardless of the outlets possible, it was time.

As I had stated on Twitter, I may have shot myself in the foot for having said anything, especially outing certain points and facts. But, just as the majority of the commentary regarding many scenes is about the safety of the performer, I am stating this for the performers as well.

With that, this is my last comment on the subject. 

Condoms, Tests, and Where You Think You're Putting That Cock

Yesterday I had forwarded a posting and an article in Hustler involving Porn-starlet Tara Lynn Foxx’s continually evolving feelings towards the condom and STI testing policies that are a controversy amongst the industry, and its viewers. This is also a subject that I am all too familiar with based off my own history in front of the camera, as well as my personal life.

Currently, the industry operates under the self-imposed practices for testing and or condom usage. There is actually no law requiring that a studio have and or use tested models, just as there is no law mandating that condoms be used in their scenes. This is true, as I know it, across both the Gay and Straight Porn worlds. This is also a subject that I will separate and introduce in the debate as well.

The initially 2 controversies: Condoms and STI Testing, really end up branching into several other sub-categories that many people fail to recognize as well.

While the Straight side of the industry seemingly refuses to use condoms, and seemingly condemns the performers that require the prophylactic, the Gay side seems to be adamantly opposed to the performers that don’t suit up. Odd, since we’re all trying to promote sex, and preferably safe sex, as a whole.

Now, I know that I fall into another category within all of this, wherein I can’t deny that some of my straight scenes are condom-less, and some of my gay scenes are condom mandated, and of course vice versa. I will state here and now, this has nothing to do with the implication that one is dirtier than the other, and that one is safer than the other, or that one is a studio requirement or not. I will admit that there is a level of security with one over the other (that I will address more). But primarily, it also has to do with a viewer demand. The majority of the Gay Viewer Community prefers to see the condom in their scenes, and has thus pushed for such in their demands for their scenes.

Would I prefer to use a condom in my straight scenes? Absolutely, as I know most of my co-stars would as well. But, whereas we can make that demand, the viewer and the studio has asked for otherwise, and will happily turn to one of the 100 potential substitutes to fill in where we wouldn’t. I’m not using this as a cop out, as that is neither the case nor point. Fortunately, there is a testing mandate and implication by the studios.

Do we know that the test is not 100% accurate all the time? Yes. You’re an idiot if you don’t know that. We do get tested regularly enough though, that several in a row typically will instill a sense of security that the test is more and more accurate. This also being said, this test is not an over the counter swab, it is a DNA test, and does come with a higher level of accuracy. This test also, when testing positive for one of the STIs, automatically removes you from working until you test clean again.

But, I’m not just here to discuss the policy that the industry is following. I honestly question how often you are tested and know whether or not you are spreading any such infections or diseases? I cannot deny that in my pre-porn days, I was tested twice; that’s 2 times in the 8 years that I’d been sexually active. No, I did not have only 2 partners in that time. I only truly knew of the STI status of 1 of my partners in all of those years. I would,however, ask, “Are you clean?” like that was going to mean anything and be a truth. In all honesty, it was a load of shit, and a risk that is and was out of this world.

While I know that the test is not 100% accurate, I have to take into consideration that if I go 3 tests in a row clean, I’m going to say with certainty that I’m clean. The AIM test does only test for Gonorrhea, Chlamydia and HIV, as mandated by the industry (NOT the Government), and I test for Herpes, Syphilis and as many other things as I can with my physician (admittedly, every 6 months). I do know that there are several strands of HPV that men carry, that are undetectable, and I’m acknowledging that information here, but not getting into the semantics behind them. I will simply state, that yes, I am aware, and currently clean and clear, but I would still prefer to use a condom.

I also know that when I work on a Straight set, that I am going to meet my partner, and I’m going to see their test results, as presented by the industry, not a handwritten doctors note. If I don’t feel right about it, I know that there are 100 other performers behind be that will happily jump at the opportunity to fill in.

Now, here’s a mind blowing fact for you: 
(Updated April 23rd, Details in commentary)

There are NO HIV+ performers working on camera in Straight Porn.

As I had stated before, in the Straight Porn world, performers are typically required to be tested and cleared for work. I say typically, because anyone can shoot porn, and post it by way of the tube sites, and they don’t have to test. Your larger Straight companies and studios do test, and require their performers to be tested and cleared for work, so that should something arise, they’re lawyers can cover their asses with the liability forms filled out, and the fact that they have these test results on file. Yes, that is kind of a cop out, but it still states that “As we knew it to be true when they arrived, by the test we pulled, they were clean at the time of the shoot.”

This is not to say that there are performers, like Sasha Grey, that go above and beyond the industry standard. Sasha requires that her co-star be tested within 48 hours of their scene, and contractually not have any contact with anyone between testing and shooting.  I personally try to keep my tests this current for anyone that I’m working with.

The Gay Porn world does NOT require this test, with a few exceptions. That is their right to do so, and they have compensated by instilling the condom practices amongst their productions. Fortunately, the performers are more comfortable with this, and the viewers tend to respond more favorably as well.

However, I have an even more mind blowing fact for you:

There ARE known HIV+ performers working on film in Gay Porn. 

I have been told, point blank by production teams, starlets and talent managers on the straight side that the number was 100%, and I laughed at them, informing them that I worked in the Gay industry, and that I was tested and contradicted their claims. However, as I started to do more of my own research, I did come to find out that there is a growing number of Gay Porn performers who are contracting HIV. I cannot confirm nor deny whether this was on set, or from their own personal endeavors.

However, in doing the math and witnessing amongst the industry, the Gay Studios may not require their performers be tested, but a condom does not cover everything; anyone that has ever had sex with someone a little happy with their usage of Anal-ease can concur. Nor are they used in oral sex and other acts that, given a superstitious or superfluous circumstance, could leave scene partners susceptible to infection.

The risk is absolutely out there, and in all honesty, the only “Safe Sex” is no sex. For you the viewer and the fan, I can only hope that you are using a condom and are regularly being tested, as I do practice in my personal life.  I know that we all slip, and get caught in the moment as well. I cannot nor will not condemn anyone for this happening; I’m just as guilty as anyone there. But, at least now, through the blessing and the curse that is social media, and hyper-media-hysteria, people are able to be a little more aware of what is prevalent around them.

I’m not opposed to anyone working in Porn that wants to work in Porn. I know as much as the next guy that studios are always looking for new talent, different talent, great talent, known talent and newbies. We all know that the performers are out to make money, just as the studios are. The studios are not being “evil” in their practices, just as performers are no more “divas” for requesting that they be allowed to wear a condom, or work with a tested performer. I also know that some performers do not want to work with a condom, just as some don’t want to be tested. Fortunately, and hopefully, everyone on that production is able to make that decision for themselves, just remember, IT’S JUST PORN.

Every time anyone, industry or not has sex, you are entering into a risky act that may leave you with something for the rest of your life. It is absolutely up to you AND your partner as to how you wish to reduce that risk. You AND your partner need to figure that out.

I am Jeremy Bilding. I enjoy sex too much to stop having it, but I will do what I can to keep it as “Safe” and “Clean” as I can. 

11 Years Ago Today

I wrote this just over a year ago, but I wanted to repost it today.

With this being my 1^st kind of “real” blog, I feel as though I should prologue it a little with a  bit of personal clarification real quick. This is not to say that it matters at all. I mean, I am just a guy, running around, somewhat trying to make a small name for myself, in a sense. I, while not trying to be self depreciating, am just some random guy, not anything or anyone that should be put on a pedestal. If at some point I do manage to pull some service to society that becomes a momentous event or movement, then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. But, at this time, I am simply starting to voice some of my own personal ventures, values, ideas, insights, observations and anecdotes.  I can and will always stick by my Boy Scout, Middle Class, Family Value upbringing, and be totally honest with everyone.  I have never lied about anything I have been asked about, or experiences I have lived, or adventures I have endured. That being said, yes, there are subjects and things that I do remain a bit ambiguous towards, and avoid.

This posting that I am sharing with you all today, and at this time is a topic that I have been avoiding for 10 years now. This topic was not one that I was ashamed of, proud of, resentful towards, remorseful about or despairingly depressed from. My ambiguity towards the event and the topic was partially out of lack of personal involvement, knowledge surrounding the details, and partially, avoidance to the incessant battery of conversation, opinions, discussions and arguments surrounding something that I had no control over.

Prior to and since that day, there have been several events that have reshaped all of our lives. Prior to and since that day, there have been so many events that we will always remember, resounding from the adage "Do you remember where you were when...?"  I am not going to bore you with my personal story surrounding this adage, for it was not all that interesting.

For years, I changed where I was from, not out of shame, but because I avoided the resulting conversations, resurfacing the emotions that came. I refused to let people look at me with a sense of pity, or remorse for something that I experienced the same way that they all did. A few years ago, I started to admit my true hometown, and only on occasion does it still incite questions.  Nonetheless, it still does invite the questions surrounding that Tuesday in history. Not that this wasn’t the 1^st historic event to encompass our beliefs, emotions, psyche or especially our sense of safety. My being geographically (in the grand scheme) tied to the event, somehow has given people a more tangible connection to the event, and still does to this day apparently.

I will admit that in the years following, with similar, and some especially more gruesome events taking place all around the country and world, I wrote editorials expressing my beliefs towards actions attempting to prevent future outbursts. I felt, that as a kid in the same age group, I had a bit more of a voice to represent the generation, and the groups that was now under severe scrutiny by the rest of society.

I have inadvertently kept up on many of the updates, and the theories that still surround the mystery of what happened. I have had conversations with people from all over the world when I admit that I am from there. I still find myself taking a very defensive position, standing up for the younger generation. I still find myself stating that it was also a fluke, albeit disgustingly gruesome, but a fluke nonetheless in our community. Former President George Bush (Sr.) and (at the time) current President Bill Clinton had both visited Littleton prior to the events, and had stated that the tragedy at Columbine was totally out of character for the community within. I state that it was a fluke for the reason that, no, it shouldn’t have happened, but it also was just what our leaders had stated, it wasn’t supposed to happen in a town like Littleton. Though, how many times has our communities said the same thing about most of the historical tragedies. Rarely would something quite as horrific instill a sense of “Oh, I’ve been waiting for that to happen there” or “Doesn’t really surprise me.” However, I still state that there may not have been anything to necessarily prevent what had happened, short of a “Big Brother” type of security system.

Yes, my true hometown, where I grew up and lived, was Littleton, Colorado. Yes, I graduated with the same class that Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold would have graduated in, had that event not occurred. However, that being said, No, I did not go to Columbine High School. To be totally honest, with the makeup of the town, and the sheltered nature of the community, most of my school, and class, I didn’t even know that Columbine High School was in Littleton.  We of course knew of the school, and many of the students that graced my halls with me knew people at CHS, but that was a different school district. That was “the other side of the tracks”, literally. Though, I’m not saying that we were on the good side, nor am I saying they were on the bad side. What I am saying is that, our boundaries, our stomping grounds, and our communities were divided by the railway and a main roadway, if not highways, that we never needed to cross for any reason. The 7000 kids in the Littleton Public School District had their territories, their malls, their theaters, their neighborhoods; there was no reason to be over on that side of town. The same was true for the kids of Columbine.

My norm, my community entirely resembled and mirrored the kids of Columbine.  My cafeteria map and hierarchy was the exact same as all of the other schools in the South Denver Metro area.  My clique, well mine was all of them. I was the quiet loner, though welcome with everyone at the school. Though, that’s not to say that I didn’t receive my fair share of torment. That’s not to say that I was “cool” or “popular” by any means. I went to my fair share of parties my senior year, but my claim to fame amongst the school was really that I was “The kid on the bike” for most of my high school career.  I wouldn’t necessarily say that I was well liked, but I was accepted and welcome. Even amongst those that resembled the “Trench Coat Mafia”, a term that most of us were even unfamiliar with at the time of the tragedy. 

You could say that I have always had an open mind towards everyone that I come in contact with. I will enjoy your company, until you blatantly refuse to open your mind to others opinions. I can understand that you will have your values and your ideals, but to be totally closed minded to something, no matter how petty or relevant, is where I start to clash. You could say that I have also thrived a bit on always leaving a level of ambiguity, to use as a mean of opening people’s minds.  When you like someone, without knowing their specific orientation, position or opinions, you tend to be a bit more accepting of their stance once it does arise. You will allow yourself to drop your guard, and have a reasonable discussion towards these ideals.

I will full heartedly admit that I am quite glad that I am not in Littleton on the 10 year anniversary of the tragedy at Columbine High School. I will observe a moment of silence for those that were lost. I will continue to observe a lifetime of respect towards my fellow human race. I will especially continue on my small quest to continue to broaden the horizons of those that I come into contact with. I will continue to hope that people will continue to accept the differences that come with each and every adverse opinion we all have, even though we are all searching for the same essential thing: To be Happy, Successful and Loved.

I know that in this, while an expression towards the event that happened within 4 miles of my front door, involving kids that I were my age, doesn’t actually admit much of my feelings towards what had happened that day. I can tell you that I could not have been more impressed by the school districts, the teachers and the community for how everything was handled. Wednesday was a mandatory school day. Mandatory. Though, in our classes, if you can call them that, we simply were able to grapple and discuss what was happening, and what had happened. The community came together to let us know that we were all welcome, and that we all had to endure this together.  Unfortunately, it seems to be more often than not that it’s the times of trouble, tragedy and despair that our community’s band together to welcome Everyone, to accept Everyone and to support Everyone.

I apologize if this offended anyone, if this came across as a “soap box rambling discourse” or as anything to incite any feelings other than a sense of welcome feelings. I wanted to share with you all something that does mean a bit to me. I also wanted to pay my respects to the community that raised me, that unfortunately had to endure the tragedy.  I have avoided talking about this, namely because I hate the look of pity, and sympathy towards the event, when I had no connection to it. I did not have to endure much from the event, other than the onslaught up questions for years to come. Literally, I experienced the event just as most of you all did, from a TV in my living room.  So, I ask, please, I am not looking for your sympathy, or your empathy towards the event. I do ask that you spread the feelings of wanting to welcome all of us together. I do ask that you help in re-instilling the sense of community amongst our populations. I do ask that you help everyone to accept the different opinions of each other, ours included.   

My heart goes to all the families that lost their children to the horror. My heart goes to the family, community and school that lost a heroic teacher that stood up for his students, still trying to ensure the sense of safety in the middle of the chaos. My heart goes out to those that were injured, physically, and emotionally through the event, directly, or indirectly. My heart goes out to all.