Sunday, February 28, 2016

Let's Talk Dick...


     So… Another week has passed and I can’t even remember all that I’ve done. I’ve been so busy I can’t believe how fast time is passing.
     Last week I gave you a brief history on dildos. I thought I’d give you the real thing this week. Yes, I’m talking about dick from the male perspective.


     A friend of a friend has a toddler and she was complaining that the little boy didn’t want to keep his pants/diaper on and was often caught playing with himself. Yeah, well that’s what little boys do. In case I’ve not said it before, I’ll say it again: boy’s favorite toy is their penis. Hell, it’s their first toy and will be their go-to play thing for the rest of their lives.
     Of course the toddler wasn’t thinking anything sexual. His little peen is there so why not? Now, having three nieces I noticed that they tend to like to play with their feet. Now they are my sisters little girls, so I’m sure they are planning for all the shoes that they intend to have during their lifetime. My sister is a total shoe whore. Anyone who builds a house and has a room dedicated to just shoes and bags is a shoe-whore. Can you say Imelda Marcos?

Not my sister's but damn close!
     Anyway… back to the little boys and their toys…
     As boys grow they will have other toys. I know I loved my Tonka trucks, Matchbook cars, my tricycle and then bicycle, but the best go to toy was my dick. I guess I was about four or so when I stopped playing with it in public, thanks to my mother smacking me on the back of my head, but it was there and I knew it was always with me.
     I have discussed this with a few other men, and yep, they all said pretty much the same thing. The urge to touch it, play with it and just feel it had nothing to do with anything sexual. It’s like having a built in security blanket. I wonder if any guy has ever called it his binky?


     As I remember back to my college days, I recollect my roommate studying while lying on his bed. I don’t know how many times I’d look over and he’d have his hand down his pants. I don’t even think he realized he was doing it. Oh and yes, I’ve done it too. Didn’t even think about it, it just happened.
     Now it isn’t all fun and games. Remember, young men are subject to testicular cancer, and sadly, it isn’t always caught in time. Unfortunately, self-examination isn’t often taught and it is missed much too often. I’ve known several men who have lost a nut to this terrible cancer and one who died at age twenty-four because of it. To anyone who has young boys, you might think about that and get some help with that. No kid wants that information directly from their mother. Trust me on that.
     Can you make a living from your penis? You bet you can…

     Think about it. Male strippers, go-go boys are basically making a living shaking their groove-thang. Porn stars, same thing. I mean, where would they be without their dong? Of course they do tend to be on the higher spectrum of dong size. There are other career choices where men make money using their dicks. Ever heard of penis puppetry? Yep, it does exist.
     Here’s a clip for you to watch. I did. I was rolling on the floor. It’s really fun to watch the audience’s reaction. I’m only including a short clip, but you can find several full shows online. Have a look if you’re in need of a laugh.

video

    Let’s go back to the size thing…
     Most men have penis envy. Yes, it is true. I’d say most men feel somewhat inadequate when it comes to the size of their penis. Personally, I think part of it stems from the explosion of porn that is so readily available.
     Big dicks are something to behold. It’s true. They can be scarily massive. I mean, look at Rocco Steele. I know he isn’t the biggest out there in the adult industry, but he was the first one that came to mind. While it is quite impressive, there is no way in hell he’d get near me with that thing. Nope, ain’t happenin’!
     There have been so many studies of penis size it isn’t funny. What it really boils down to is the average size of a man’s dick is still around six inches, and circumference about five inches. I did find one study that did it by geography. That was interesting. Those poor Koreans have the average erect penis size of about three inches. Although, if you’re looking for big dicks, check out those northern European countries. Hmmm, they seem to be well above average.

Nice size I think.

     Personally, I think more than a mouthful is a waste. A big dick is nice to look at, but what the hell are you supposed to do with it? I know many gay men who are such size queens that they won’t even consider a guy who is just average. Oh, and there were several studies that singled out gay men and guess what? Gay men tend to have larger cocks! Who knew? Anyway, I think that most guys should just be happy with what they have. There are even those who want smaller dicks, so there is someone out there for those guys as well. There are even small penis contests!


     What else… I normally don’t complain, or try not to, but for the past few weeks I’ve been battling vertigo. The first time I experienced it I thought I was having a stroke. A little over a week ago I had the worst bout of it I’d ever had. Thankfully I’d just had the prescription that takes care of it refilled. It got better but I’ve been having smaller episodes. Nothing really serious but annoying as hell. The room spins in two different directions. It’s like being really, really drunk without the fun of getting drunk. The only reason I bring this up is to explain part of my absence from social media. Not to worry, I’m really okay… other than walking around like a drunk. But anyway, there you have it.
     As usual… Have you done something nice for someone this week? I did.
     Have a grrreat week, y’all,
     Max




Sunday, February 21, 2016

Dildos


     So… What to say…
     Let’s talk dildos, shall we?
     This week the Prime Minister of New Zealand had a dildo thrown at him, smacking him right in the face. I thought that was hilarious, but it also made me stop to think… how did that word originate? Where did it come from?


     Let’s look at the history of the dildo first…
     The first mention of a dildo, in written word, according the Oxford English Dictionary, was in 1593. William Shakespeare also used the term in the play The Winter’s Tale. However, as I looked into this subject, it was mentioned centuries before that, just not in English.
     Whenever or wherever it was first mentioned, the dildo has been around for at least 30,000 years! Yes, ladies and gents, there were perverts even back then. It is believed that the first documented dildo is from the Upper Paleolithic. It, the dildo, was found in a cave in Germany. One only has to look at it to know what it is. Nope, no doubt there. Yes indeedy, it is made of siltstone. Now talk about hard… I know I’ve written ‘hard as granite’. Maybe I should change that to ‘hard as siltstone’. What’cha think?


     During my in-depth research (get your minds out of the gutter, I know you went there), it appears that ancient dildos were made from a variety of materials. We’ve established stone, and then there was wood, tar, leather stuffed with wool and sometimes sand, carved ivory, jade, bronze and even gold and silver, for those hoity-toity types. Hmm, I wonder if they had to polish the metal ones or if… well you know where I was going with that.


     There are many ancient artifacts that clearly show that the dildo is not a modern invention. It was believed that a woman should have a dildo to ‘comfort’ her or to keep female hysteria at bay while the men were away at war or traveling for whatever reason. I wonder if they knew what the men were up to while on such journeys. I have no doubt in my mind what they were up to, do you?


     Hell, there were even plays written in the 3rd Century by the Greeks mentioning the dildo, although at the time they were called ‘olisbos’. The play was Lysistrata, where women talk about using and sharing the artificial penis. It is believed that a Roman physician invented the double headed dildo so that it could be a social event, to be shared between friends.

     Okay, can you imagine taking in a prescription for a dildo? I wonder if insurance would pay for that? I can just see it now… Yes, it is for my gay hysteria. Yeah, I doubt that would fly.
     Oh, and those crafty Greeks…
     Did you know that they also made coverings for their dildos/olisbos? Yep, they sure did. They made leather covers for the things to give them a more natural feel. Of course they also recommended the use of animal intestines. I wonder if that is when the first sheepskin (sheep intestine) condom was invented. Ever seen one of those things? They really are kind of gross.


     Oh, and did you know that it was recorded that Julius Caesar gave Cleopatra an elaborately carved fake cock, inlaid with gold. It was documented as a ‘sculpture’. Yeah, right. It was a big ol’ fat fake dick. I know a little bit about the woman, I’m sure she used it for its intended purpose. Fancy!
     There is so much documentation of the dildo from the ancient world, it isn’t even funny. From the Karma Sutra to One Thousand and One Arabian Nights! Even the Chinese got into the act. There have been excavations where dildos were found all the way back to the Han Dynasty. Of course it was mentioned in the bible. I didn’t know that until this research. So… for those robust, stout Christians, if they’ve ever used a dildo, they’re going to hell. “Thou hast madest to thyself images of men, and didst commit whoredom with them.”
     Yes… I’m getting to the word origin, which was my purpose here…
     We’ve got olisbos from the Greeks, the phallic imitator from the Russians, darsildo from the Hindi, the consoler from the Spanish and then the fake penis from the Welsh, all ancient descriptions in their own languages, so where does dildo come from? See, this is how this all started in my head.
     Would you believe that the world dildo came from a boat?


     Now I’d heard this story from a history professor, but I never really thought much about it until now. (Education is sometimes wasted on the young.) One reference is from a peg that held an oar in place of a dory, a small rowboat. Another is a peg that was used to hold oars in a massive rowing and sailing vessel. The pegs were also used to hold ropes in place.

     Now, it had another use on those larger boats. Those carved wooden pegs were also used to keep young men, between the ages of fifteen and eighteen, (remember the times now) to keep them ‘open’ for use. When those randy sailors got ‘wood’ they had an already opened up ass to relieve themselves with. That’s right folks, that is also where we get the term ‘wood’ for a man’s erection, or one of the theories anyway. Makes sense to me.
     Now there is another theory that the modern name dildo comes from the Italian word diletto, which means delight. I don’t know that it will ever be proven to which one or the other is correct, but I’d heard the peg story long before I’d heard that it might have come from the Italians, which wouldn’t surprise me at all either. However, I’m leaning more towards the peg theory myself.

     Now that I’m talking about names, do you know the story of the band Steely Dan? Hmm, I bet most of you haven’t. Ever read the novel The Naked Lunch by William S. Burroughs? If not, you might have a gander. It was written in 1959. There is a reference to Steely Dan III, which happened to be a dildo. Yep, there you have it. Steely Dan was named after a dildo. I’d heard that story for years also. It appears that one of the band members happened to like using a dildo. There were innuendos that he was also gay, but I never followed up on that rumor.

     Here’s a little factoid for you…
     In 1998 the Supreme Court of Alabama upheld the Anti-Obscenity Act which prohibits the sale of sex toys. No wonder there are so many confused and hysterical woman and gay men in Alabama. Poor things… bless their hearts.
     And there you have it...
     Dildos were wooden pegs that boys were forced to sit on, and of course hold oars and ropes in place. A morning erection, referred to as wood, comes from that same damn peg. I’d say you got a two-for-one today. Now it goes without saying that two bottoms using a doubled headed dildo should give thanks to that ancient Greek doctor for inventing it and thus giving them the ability to share in such a social activity.


     Did you do something nice for someone this week? I did.
     That’s about all I have kiddies. Hope you enjoyed the little history lesson.
     Have a grrreat week y’all,
     Max




Sunday, February 14, 2016

Happy VD!


     So… now that this week has passed and I’m still in one piece, I’m off to the races, or that’s the plan.

     Happy Valentine’s Day, y’all. Hope everyone gets lots of chocolate! Yeah, as far as I’m concerned, that’s the best thing about Valentine’s Day. I can’t even remember the last time I got flowers, a card or chocolate for VD. That sounds kinda nasty, don’t it?
     Now, don’t go feeling all sorry for me. I’m quite happy with where I am right now. The last thing I need is some man up under my feet. Goodness knows I don’t have the patience for that mess anymore. I’m thinking a cabana boy would be much more to my tastes. He’s there when you need him and then you can tell him to go away. Works for me. If I had my druthers, I’d prefer him to be very tall. At least that way I won’t have to go fetch a ladder or stepstool to get something out of the upper cabinets!
     I’ve always said that gay men have the best of male and female traits… and the worst. Sheesh, there is nothing worse than a clingy gay man who wants to talk about their feelings. Ugh… talk about trying my patience.
     And then there is the point of a man not picking up after themselves. What is it about a guy who can’t seem to get his underwear into the hamper? Is it really that difficult? Or how about not putting the toothpaste back, and of course it’s all squeezed out from the middle or leaving little hairs in the sink. It’s that kind of shit that just puts my OCD into overdrive.

     Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of good things about having a gay man around. You don’t have to worry about them walking around wearing plaid shorts with a striped shirt. Or them owning a pair of those dreadful old man type boxers. Oh, and you’ll never have to worry about the personal grooming stuff. Hell, I’ve known some gay men that have more lotions and potions in the bathroom than most women. Of course you might have to convert a spare room into a walk-in closet just to house their shoes! Or if I were to ask an opinion on aubergine, I wouldn't have to explain what it is.
    I know I’ve said it before, but I’m going to say it again…
     My idea of a perfect man is one that lives at least twenty minutes away, has a job, his own house or apartment, has a life and can take care of himself. He can come over, have dinner, bump nasty’s, maybe stay the night and then takes his hairy ass home. Yep, that would work for me.
     I think my idea of a cabana boy is the best though. I just need to figure out how to get a pool first. Might be hard to look for a hot man to service the pool when there is no pool don’t ‘cha think? I’ll have to work on that.
     This past week… Yeah, well… while having a bit of a meltdown, I may have neglected to say that I had a house full of out-of-town guests during that time. Yeah, I might have skipped over that part. Ooops, sorry.
     It was great having friends around. Catching up, laughing, just hanging out and eating. For the most part it was really laid back… nothing too strenuous or exciting. Hell, there isn’t that much ‘round here to get excited about. It would have been better had it been a bit warmer. It was warmer than most of the country at least. Oh well, can’t control the weather.
     On the writing front…
     Yeah, well… not much happening there this past week. Just had other things to do. I really do need to buckle down and finish this damn book. I’m so close to the end, but I’ve just not had the time to sit down and focus on it. I’m hoping this will be the week to get it done!
     The big problem is that I’ve got other projects that I’d like to get back to and then I’ve got other storylines that keep popping into my head. I really need to get more disciplined about sitting down to write.
     On the house renovation…
     It is so close to being done, I can almost taste it. This is the time when I start to get fidgety about it. It’s the little things that I keep focusing on, and then lose my mind. There’s that OCD thing again. I’m really hoping that we can get the inside close to done so I can go back and start playing in the dirt.

     It’s almost spring here and I’m getting itchy to get back outside. I think it’s something in my genetics. This time of year I start thinking about putting out some tomatoes. My grandmother did the same thing, as does my sister. Can’t fight it. I didn’t do it last year and kept thinking I’d forgotten something. My brain keeps flashing Steel Magnolia’s at me. Yeah, I’m strange that way. Give me a big floppy hat and a few ‘maters to stick out, and I’ll be happy sitting in the dirt.
     What else…
     I’m kind of proud of myself. I’ve been able to do a few nice things for a few folks and I didn’t even spend a dime. It really doesn’t take much, just react to a need. I don’t think it was anything monumental, just simple things really. How about you? I think that’s about all I have for this week.
     It’s time to get nekkid and wash some dogs!
     Have a grrreat week, y’all,
     Max




Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Reflections...


     So… it’s been one of those times when I have to sit down and reflect a bit. We all have to do that at times, and I’m no different.
     I admit, last week was tough because I got word that my friend, Tim Marsh, more than likely wasn’t going to recover. Matt, his husband, told me that they were going to remove the ventilator so if I wanted to see Tim, I needed to come.
     Tim, buddy, your timing couldn’t have been worse. I’m just tellin’ you.
     With several deliveries already scheduled for that day, a house full of people expected, I couldn’t make it down there. It had been my plan to get up early, even for me, and go down and say my goodbyes. Sadly, I didn’t make it. He was gone before I even woke up.
     Yeah, I felt guilty as hell for not having gone the day before, but in all honestly; I’d already said my goodbyes. But it wasn’t supporting Matt that made me feel the guiltiest. That really sucks, because I do love him and wanted him to know that by my being there.
     Now then, that’s not what really sent me off in a tailspin…
     The mind is a great and wonderful thing, until it slaps you in the face and calls you ugly names. That’s what happened to me this week. Memories suddenly flashed back, playing in my head like a badly filmed B rated movie. There is a lot of regret there and a lot of sadness. Those things that I tend to keep in small boxes up on the filing shelf of my trivia cluttered mind.
     Things I don’t talk about… His name was Jim and he was the great love of my life. He worked for Bell South, when there was such a thing. I seduced him off a telephone pole when I was… well very young. Our relationship was on and off, mostly on, for over seventeen years. He was older, had more experience than I did, but we fit together. He was so not my type, which was the oddest part, at least it was to me. But Jim had that spark of life that never seemed to go out.
     He was the biggest kid I’ve ever known. Poor man couldn’t carry a tune even with the help of a courtesy clerk from the grocery store. That didn’t stop him… sadly. “The Good Book says to make a joyful noise, so I am!” Yeah, it also caused the all the dogs to howl within a mile radius. But that was Jim. My Jim.
     I had to make the decision to have the ventilator removed. He was never coming home...
     That was the flashback I had. That rattled my cage hard this week. I got to watch the vibrant man I knew, the one who loved life, wither and die before my eyes. It took over a year for AIDS to finally take him. He fought the good fight. He kept his head up. Even when he was no longer able to work, he volunteered for organizations, did his thing and kept on going, until he couldn’t. Unfortunately, he was always singing.
     For those caregivers out there: I know from firsthand experience that it the hardest job ever. To take care of the one you love most in this world, to be there twenty-four hours a day, making sure they have everything they need. Keeping them as comfortable as possible isn’t always easy. Actually, it’s damn hard.
     Now, I’ve had other friends, we had other friends, who’d lost the same battle as My Jim. I was no stranger to the “AIDS Ward” at the hospital. At one point, I was going to a funeral a week. It was never easy. To know that these men were cut down in the prime of their lives, men who had careers, family, lovers and friends who loved and cared for them. And what of our government? Well they were just fags so they’re not great loss.
     The ventilator came out. There was no hope of recovery...
     Jim wasn’t conscious when the nurse and doctor took the ventilator out. I held his hand. I sat and watched. I don’t know what I expected but I sat there, holding his hand, stroking his arms with the other. I waited. He never woke up.
     Friends came and went. Family came… and went. I sat there and held his hand. I sat there holding his hand for almost twelve hours waiting, watching and holding his cold pale hand. My Jim took a breath, exhaled and was gone and yet I still sat there, holding his hand. It was three-twelve a.m. when My Jim finally lost the fight and left me sitting there… alone.
      One of the nurses came and got me, took me to some lounge and gave me the best cup of coffee I’d had in days. Her name was Charlotte and she was a wonderful nurse and woman. She didn’t try and talk. She just sat there with me as I drank that coffee and then got me another one.
     Sometime later she took me back to My Jim, who was now lying there, clean, no tubes, no monitors, no incessant beeping noise. It was peaceful. I sat back down and took his hand once more.
     Memories, like the corners of my mind…
     That was twenty years ago now. It seems like a long time ago until something like this happens and then it all comes rushing back, my mind slapping me with the reality of that long day and night. What seemed to be so long ago, suddenly feels like it just happened.
     I rarely talk about it. For me it is something very personal and private. It’s easy to say ‘Let it go’ but that never happens. Things like this stay with you. You learn to cope with it and move on. It’s like when you first put on a ring. It bugs you and then you begin to get used to it. Before long, you forget it’s there, until you touch it or like me, bang it into something. Then suddenly, you’re aware of it. It’s part of life. Part of your life, you’re history.
     Tim’s passing was quick, or at least it seemed so to me. I kind of figured it was coming, but I still wasn’t prepared.
     “… take him off the ventilator tomorrow.”
     Yeah, those few words came crashing down on my head like a ton of brick. For those that I’ve been short with, snapped at or not been very nice to this week, I do apologize. And yes, I’ve probably not been the most pleasant person to be around, and for that I’m sorry. I find it difficult to have one foot in the past and one foot in the present. I’m really not that smart and it messes with my head. So again, I apologize for being such a bitch this week.
     It’s time for me to say goodbye once again to My Jim. To let him go back into that little box on the shelf where sometimes I take it down to visit, on my own terms. To put the past in the history book and look forward and get things done.
     Goodbye my friend, Tim. I’ll never forget you.
     Goodbye My Jim. You know you’ll always be in my heart. I’m sure they’ve gagged your ass wherever you are. Damn, what a racket you make. I love you.




Sunday, February 7, 2016

Goodbye My Friend...


Tim Marsh
     I start today with a heavy heart. My friend, Tim Marsh lost his battle with cancer yesterday. Tim was a funny, snarky, intelligent and loyal friend. You always knew he was going to zing you by the twinkle in his eye. He was a fierce and loyal friend, and I will always admire him for that.
     I was told once that the only thing in life that you need to accomplish was to love and be loved in return. Undoubtedly, Tim did this in abundance. He had many friends who loved him as he loved them. I know that his husband, and fellow writer, Matt Ortiz, returned his love as well. Many of us were blessed by his presence. Tim, you will be sorely missed.
One of my favorite photos
     I figured since I was already a little depressed, I thought I’d go and read some reviews. It is rare that I subject myself to reviews on Goodreads. Normally I stay far away from there, but what the hell. I also checked out those on Amazon, which tend to be easier to take.
     I was… surprised. Somehow that doesn’t seem adequate. I was more overwhelmed to be honest. The things that readers said about ‘Going Home’ nearly brought me to tears. ‘My Hero: The Olympian’ appears to be well received. Not sure why it didn’t so very well in way of book sales, but those who did read it, took the time to write a review, which is pure gold to an author.. I’m glad that they enjoyed it.
     ‘The V Unit’, another one that wasn’t exactly a best seller, but people liked it as well. I want to take a quick thank you to every reader who takes the time to write a review. They really are what sell books. And a great big thank you to those of you who talk about their favorite books and authors on social media. It really does make a huge difference.
     I think I need to make myself read reviews more often. Instead of becoming more depressed, it lifted me up. It made me want to write. To get back to work and get this book done. Yeah, this book…
     I’m not sure how other authors feel or deal with their current work in progress, but I tend to suffer, especially when I’m dealing with hard subjects. Yep, I’m doing another one of those books. I feel as if it is a delicate balancing act. How do I get the information to the reader without doing an information dump on them? When is enough, enough? Are the emotions real? Have I gone over the top?
     These are questions that I constantly ask myself. When I get close to the end of a book like this, which is the case here, I tend to slow down, procrastinate finishing, scared that I’m not getting it just right. Am I doing the story and the characters justice? Is anyone going to want to read this crap?
    I will admit that I tend to push buttons. It’s what I do. But when I do that, I push my own buttons a well, and that’s not always a good thing. It makes me doubt myself. I think that is why I find it difficult to finish a book. I overthink it and I worry and get all stressed. Many of you know what happens when I stress: I hit the jug. Yep, I’ve hit the milk pretty good over the past few days. Up until a few days ago, I’ve been really good. Then it was milk and Tim-Tams. Milk and cold pizza. Milk and… well milk. My shorts are back to being a little on the tight side. Oh well… at least I know and understand my addiction and it isn’t illegal!
     I originally planned to have this book finished in December. Yeah, well that didn’t happen. I think it is close to the end, but then sometimes the characters dictate the length of the book, not me. Unless they go off and create some hari-kari, it should be done soon. That’s the plan at any rate.
     For those who keep up with this blog know that I’ve been helping The Aussie Tart, (TAT for short) with her new house. We’ve come a long way in a short amount of time. We’re coming down the long stretch. This is the hardest part for me. Doing the little detail things that make all the difference in the world. Of course, this is when I start becoming bored and want it to just be done. Hopefully, in the next few weeks I can go and dig in the dirt there. I’m soooo looking forward to that.
     Sadly, it is becoming more and more difficult to make Studly-Do-Right blush. I’m afraid that he has become used to my banter and nothing much gets to him now. It’s either that or he just knows that I’m going to push his envelope. The poor man just shakes his head and walks away. Oh well, shit happens I guess.
     Now, don’t get me wrong; I like the guy. He’s one of the good ones, for sure. He has a great work ethic, gets things done and does good work. Something that I’ve noticed isn’t exactly the norm around here.
     What else…
     Today, I’m being descended upon. I have three friends that are coming in from out of town. Two of those have never seen American Football, and today is Super Bowl Sunday. I’m just hoping that I can stay awake that long. I think I may need a nap just to get to halftime!

     I’m going to do some football type food. You know, wings, chips-n-dip, along with other assorted fare. Not sure if I’m going to get the cheesecake done. I’ve just run out of time. We’ll see though. Who knows, it could happen.
     What else…
     Oh, I had dinner Friday night (much needed time out) with some friends. One of which is a playwright. Last year he gave me a draft of a play he was working on, wanting my opinion, which I gave. That’s hard to do sometimes, but I was honest. He said that he got what I was saying and has given it back to me to look it over. I’m looking forward to reading through it again. It had a lot of potential, so I’m excited to see what he has done. He’s a real hoot. My kind of people. That’s code for crazy.
     Well…
     This week I’ve not been as good as I could have been. I didn’t help out as many people as I possibly could have. I’ll try harder next week. Sometimes the opportunity just doesn’t present itself. This next week will be better, I can feel it. I’ll let you know.
     I guess that’s all I have for this week. Remember to go forth, live life, do unto others, and make each day count.
     Have a grrreat week, y’all.
     Max