The Bondage of Homelessness
Almost all of the men who contact me with requests that I tie them up and jack them off are doing so because they know I am homeless (the trick always has to lord it over the proverbial whore) and used to be the writer who got them off.
Celebrity homelessness. Not quite a celebrity.
How dope does it get.
More tedium than dope.
I will do you, but you cannot really afford me.
How expensive is it.
If you have to ask…
This is one whore who is not cheap. A few publishers found that out. The hard way.
How is homelessness and bondage even remotely related.
Whatever ties and dyes your skin.
A few of my more interesting bondage tricks get off on exhibitionism as well. Some acquire an audience of up to ten voyeurs. I ignore them. Why are they there. If you are thinking sex, you’d be ridiculously mistaken.
They are there to see if I am using any knots they do not know.
This is not as absurd as it sounds. They ARE there to see If I use any knots they do not know.
I have never told anyone this: I get my new knots from a naval officer who I sometimes entertain.
Feed him fentanyl and he’ll tell you everything.
Are we down in the dirtygirty yet. Less than a hundred words, and we’ve left mainstream life far behind.
I have never wanted to produce a photograph that would deal with bondage. It would have been just too obvious.
As the editor of DRUMMER, I knew bondage photographs were eaten up by anyone with the fetish. I could get them cheap, and no one really cared about how good the photography was. Readers would always write in with a thousand questions about how to make those knots.
Bondage and homelessness are alike in that no one gets out of it alive.
Which takes me directly to the New York Times.
A paper filled with knots which is how I like it. It’s not about the news. News is ubiquitous. It’s about the writing.
Poor David Brooks. He thinks he sees the bigger picture. He’s like reading what a voyeur only thinks. I would devour him but eating David Brooks would be redundant.
Any writer has to be at least part voyeur. But are there any new knots to figure out how they are made. There are no new knots. There is no new news. There are no new gentleman.
The idea of what a gentlemen is remains central to everything Brooks writes about.
If only we were all better gentlemen, the world would cease to have these horrible and self-defeating troubles. Do you think it is an accident that Brooks is paired with Judy Woodruff.
Judy Neon Tangerine. Sometimes strawberry.
All writers should have a TV show.
All writers but me.
What I have – or am allowed – are lowly comments in the New York Times and the libraries I read this paper in. I would subscribe but I’m washing my hair that night.