Private Lives (or so you thought)

This came up in conversation today, yet it's information worth repeating and repeating

If you want an eye opener stronger than a shot of iced vodka at 5AM, do this:

Go into your browser of choice and make sure your 'safe search' filter is turned off.

Then, using all the major search engines (Google, Safari, Bing, Yahoo etc) you can find, type your screenname, hit enter and take a deep breath.

Do this for all categories: in Google Search for example, look at 'everything', 'images' and 'videos'.

You might be surprised at what readily is presented that you may not have known was there.

Forgotten websites you joined but never closed the account out or thought you did. If you've used multiple screen names, now's when you have to remember what they were and check those too. (and consider using one name going forward: its called 'branding': it's easier to monitor and it's the way of the future.

Member of Cam4.com? If so, you know it's a multilingual site, meaning your screen name and subsequent profile info will show up on a search in each distinct language. It is a small world, after all.

Now is the time to take a hard look at how many sites you are registered vs how many you actually use. I trimmed away 20 , and I continue to whittle more away.

 

About those Saints

Regarding my last post, it appears I got so caught up in my more bizarre encounters, I didn't mention the good experiences I've had. In fact, I was talking the other day with my old chorus pal MJ Ramsey. One of the many benefits of having friends like MJ is that they aren't afraid to point out your weaknesses/shortcomings/failures yet manage to do so constructively: really.

I was lamenting the loss of someone who'd come into my life via ICU2 exactly when I needed a stranger. This was about 2 years ago and that night, I was two sobs away from total hysteria. This kind person got me on the telephone (and off the computer before I could make a fool of myself) listened to my crise de l'heure, and convinced me that everything would turn out all right, and to get my ass on the flight I'd bought a ticket for. I did, and he was right.

We continued as fast cyber-friends for months after that, no longer only connecting through Skype, but by email, other social networks and telephone. But as time went on, we slowly fell out of touch. Much of this was my fault: I felt all the contact was initiated by me: I was always calling him. He wasn't always home, and didn't have an answering machine. Granted, he had a life as we all do, but I felt kind of ignored. I can look back to the....

Luckily for you reading this, MJ interrupted me before I was able to flip the calendar back to ancient times, and in his own subtle way, observed aloud that so many of my 'little' stories start so positively yet end with me bitching about the subject of the story.

He was spot on. Thank you, MJ. And to those of you reading this: I have one hell of a good time more often than not. So let me tell you about my most recent one:

Nicholas and I had enjoyed numerous hot play sessions, involving: hypnosis, role play, bondage, masks, measuring tape, nipple clamps, mind control...and that's what I brought to the table. We hadn't seen each other in awhile....only in Los Angeles could two people live 10 minutes away yet have trouble coordinating schedules. We finally caught up via cam: and not surprisingly, Nicky looked even better than ever.

He had a touch of grey in his beard, but I'm not exactly the Ivory Snow baby anymore either. I kind of envisioned us like in those old movies where baby powder in the hair is the only emphasis on growing older.

So, he asked me if I wanted to get together and I said, 'let's have supper'. And in about an hour and a half, he picked me up in his big ol' SUV and off to supper in Silver Lake we went. I didn't tell him the reason I hadn't pushed harder to get together was that a) I thought he was divinely marvelous and that I doubted he felt the same way, and b) I wanted more than just sex and I felt like that was all he was interested in.
And yes, I know I have issues.

So despite those things, we had the best conversation about all sorts of subjects, laughed and laughed, and when he dropped me back at my place, we exchanged a kiss. And in my over the top style I floated back upstairs to my apartment. It only takes one lovely date to make a half dozen or so drama queens fade into nothingness.

Just like that.

Saints and Spinners

I've said from the beginning: it wouldn't be this Cafe Society lifestyle that would get me: it would be my fellow revelers. While I'm usually grounded where drama queens are concerned, they have been getting to me: or, maybe I'm allowing them get to me. Or maybe I just think I'm allowing them get to me. And don't tell me I'm over thinking this.

I'm the first to admit : I enjoy my cam time with my friends very much and I am like meeting others. It gets me out of the house and into the real world.  And getting to know someone should include- or at least I thought it did- a sort of mutual code of conduct. I'm not in cyberspace with some hidden agenda.  (not that kind of agenda)

But if the players come to their respective Logitech Webcams with mischief on their minds, and that's been alluded to: bring it on!  Or, if that's not how we're spinning it (not that kind of spin): include me in on the joke. Of course that implies the other person has a clue. Here's a recap of three of my more recent Skype episodes-also known as  Edge of Fright 

*A Doctor from Denmark declines to party on cam because he's going to an orgy the following night. He's also convinced that 'others' are hacking into his computer. We talk for awhile, then about thirty minutes later, he calls me up: having slammed, stripped, now wearing a tool belt and bouncing off the walls. Then, a friend shows up, who looks at me like I did something wrong. The call abruptly ends, but for the next two weeks, every time I log on, I'm hit up by Doctor Danish, with a group in tow...five, fifteen, twenty five names. Skype's recommendation is 9 maximum. Yet, despite my polite messages, not so polite messages and finally, not responding in anyway, he still continues to call. Or did, til I blocked him. I think blocking is a bit extreme, but he left me no recourse.

*There's a dirty secret in the town where my next caller lives: Everyone, and  I mean everyone, has had incestuous relations with their father and the family dog. An ex-lover is now fucking the ex-boyfriend of our main character here.

It's simple to figure out who's fucking who: because they all are. And during each of the 5 times I've cammed with My Friend Flip, I get the strangest feeling other people are watching me. Which isn't a problem if they'd stop talking in the background and say hello.

*The Sexy Guy Who Seemingly Shared So Much In Common With Me: the next day, I get a Facebook message from a woman looking for him. How did she get my name? How did she know he and I knew each other? When I asked my new friend, he accuses me of being in cahoots with her....an ex-wife. He's been married to men and women so many times, I feel like I'm talking to the star of 'Seven Brides and Grooms for One Brother'.

*The cute guy from the Tar Heel State didn't seem to be a Heel; but in five minutes of talking to me, he was ready to settle down and put a chastity belt on me. He had copious amounts of goodies to satisfy any dowry requirements my father might have. He was so earnest about attaching himself  to me. I found him neither sexual nor spooky. Strange.

I'm being more sarcastic than I'd like but in short, a few things are non-negotiable with me: cold calls over and over and over, sneakily sharing my cam image with your friends in the other room, your Odd Fellows Lodge or Nova Scotia isn't nice, especially when I know you're doing it.

And I don't care what excuses you make about being 'so tweaked, so out of it....oh, it wasn't really you, it was:  the drugs....Talky Tina....the devil..... or Dinah Shore. Take responsibility for your stupid man tricks, don't take cafe society so seriously (advice I should take as well) but leave my heartstrings alone.....

 ...or I'll aim for your head.

And once inside your mind: I'll drive you bonkers by reciting lines from movie scripts..





       

Struck Dumb and Dumber by A Simple Reality

A few weeks ago, I was on the phone with Mr. Big Woods of Wisconsin: remember him? Okay...so that link was a bit overboard. It's tremendous growth for me to a) realize that  b) tell you about it.

Yes, Woodsy and I talk on occasion and yes, he and Norman Nicely are blissfully happy. And YES, let's change the subject.

I can't remember exactly how it came about but I realized after I'd hung up the phone WHY I find it so easy to go all gooey over someone I meet online, but so rarely find such fireworks locally.

The simple fact is this: with out of town/state/country/continent/planet, I remain insulated. If they don't live here, they can't possibly a) be disappointed in me nor b) can I be hurt if they disappoint me. Yeah, I'm a little dramatic. Makes for a good storyteller...I guess. Now, I'm speaking generally.

That's only taken me 4 years to figure out. I should go buy lottery tickets.

The point is: Earth Day 2012

...I was perusing the Los Angeles Times' info on the annual two-day Festival of Books which is exactly what it sounds like. Today's authors included: Julie Andrews, Betty White, Florence Henderson, Mayim Bialik (Ol' Blossom from that 'very special TV series'), Anne Rice, and Bethenny Frankel. I can't decide if that line up skews it to being a 'women's event', or a 'gay man's musical star/TV mom/oversexed octogenarian/child star/author extraordinaire extravaganza'.

Although I sound crabby for not being asked to moderate a panel, it's a great event. One that could only be improved in my mind by returning it to Westwood and UCLA versus that other private university south of downtown with a mascot that's also a prophylactic brand.

But I only write books, I don't do logistics for festivals. Looking at the two page spread, I started to formulate a joke about the headline which had to do with 'getting the point': then I realized the Times was being clever and instead of the pages being all Festival of Books, the top half had to do with the proper disposal of sharps in Los Angeles County as today is Earth Day.

SHARPS ARE RIGS, POINTS, SYRINGES, ya dullards. The tool by which one 'slams'?

Well, sharps should be disposed of properly. That means, in a Sharps container which is bright red, and has that trendy bio-hazard symbol on the outside. After you've spun around for awhile, and are cleaning up the detritus of the play, you want to put your used rigs in one of these smart receptacles.

Sharps containers come in a variety of sizes, from an 'overnight' kit that holds 1, to an 8 or 10 GALLON size should you be hosting a convention. You can order them online, so discretion is assured.

Please don't let me get wind that you casually toss your rigs in the garbage, a dumpster or anyplace else that could seriously injure an innocent person. That isn't cool, and it sure as hell isn't kinky, twisted, depraved, or a directive from Facebook. By cleaning up and disposing of those sharps properly you not only help the environment, you are also taking responsibility for your actions. If that's too much to handle, I suggest you consider a change of habit.

The Warlocks of Westwood

Arriving two weeks earlier than he'd told me, a former professor of mine: that is, had I not declined Georgetown..or was it Notre Dame-- called from a quasi-fleabag motel about a mile from me. That's right, I declined both universities, but that's not today's story. Dr. Trees,  or 'Dr. T' as he likes to be called, was in town doing research with colleagues at UCLA-where I began coursework towards a Master's Degree sometime in the last century.

Dr. T is the man to go to regarding world cultures, mythology and paranormal stuff. He's such a wealth of knowledge that I think sometimes he gets his rituals mixed, and the result is....well....do you remember the character Alice Ghostley played on TV's  Bewitched? That's right, Esmeralda the daffy housekeeper. Well, Dr. Trees isn't quite that off-kilter, then again, it's said that chems amplify a person's natural state.

I was delighted to hear from him, but when he told me the casino employee who'd recommended the motel had arrived, then quickly fled, I should have known things would be haywire quickly. Since when does a black-jack dealer pay for someone's room, arrive right on time, but then (in Dr. T's words) suddenly flip out and leave...neither ripping off nor making a sale? That just doesn't happen here.

That's not to say my friend wasn't alarmed. His brand new, fresh off the assembly line Android phone had been tampered with he believed, so much so he couldn't access any applications. For about 4 hours each night over the next 2 days, I did my best to politely show my friend that the tampering was all his doing. He'd fucked up the phone so much only a reset would help him. I still don't know why he didn't get a new iPhone-and eventually he did-until that got fucked up too. I think. I lost track.

At dinner, Dr. Trees filled me in on his recent travels to Martinique and Haiti, studying and writing on the effect the 2010 earthquake has had on that culture. When relating a story though, you get the impression he's not quite giving you all the information...and that he's playing with your mind...not in an evil way....but in a mischievous, yet quite irritating way. Having paid close attention to him when he spoke on a panel at a literary conference I'd attended way back when, I did the only thing I could do when we got back to my place. I lit a white candle...and I do so again just now. Insurance.

The next day, my stomach was bothering me enough that I had to pass on the Doc's offer to join him in Palm Springs, and although I gave him easy directions, the 2 hour drive became a 9 hour sojourn. He explained it to me several times, but I still didn't understand the extra 7 hours. Not really so amazingly, once in PS, he ran into an old friend and they had fun. I didn't get to see him upon his return to Los Angeles, but I'll not forget his visit anytime soon.

And that white candle burns behind me as I write this. Hell yes, I'm superstitious.

In my Merry (but oh-so-slow) Oink-mobile

I spent a frustrating hour trying out and draining my iPhone battery via the mobile version of the site formerly known as Nasty Kink Pigs. Or maybe it's still NKP, although everything seems to point to 'Oinkmobile' as it's new name.

It's taken me a couple of weeks to figure out that it's not likely pronounced Oinkmobile a la Batmobile but as in T-Mobile.

Oinkmobile looks good on my iPhone 3GS, but I can't say I was able to get too deep into it. More on that below.

Way back when, NKP touted a forthcoming Pig Network with various depraved and decadent .com names, sort of like the old Ning platforms for social networking. Ning decided to get out of the depraved and decadent hosting business and that's about when NKP came on the scene. Yet, months later, not much has changed at NKP in the manner I and others expected given the hype.

I have nothing but the greatest admiration for the creator of NKP. He's entrepreneurial, bright and when I blogged there regularly (prior to this edition on Blogger) he'd drop me a note every so often to tell me how much he enjoyed reading my work. Considering how much other stuff he has to keep track of, including a real time 'Pig Board' with posting rules that most seem to ignore, the fact that he'd email me was very flattering indeed. And, given I couldn't design a website, my only major problem in the past 4 years was when the site was redesigned overnight, resulting in links that didn't work and a general crash of the whole system. It was fixed, and paid memberships were granted an extension. Oh, and during some recent upgrade, my profile description was erased, and all my saved emails in folders I'd created were deleted as well. Oh well.

I downloaded the app to my phone--- and after choosing 'ok' about 150 times to allow access to my location,  the server timed out.  

Finally, I'm greeted with a Grindr or Scruff type view of Swine in My Pig Pen (or something like that, and there's my profile pic---which is one of my dick. That's not the pic I have as my default on NKP, and scanning the other nearby pigs...my dick stands out and I don't mean in a good way.  But I can't seem to change my pic on the mobile application.

Speaking of Grindr, I tried that out for all of 2 days before tossing it into the cyber-compost heap. Too many lead ins that began and ended with 'sup?' for me. As for Scruff, which a few friends recommended, it had so many bad reviews on iTunes App Store, I chose to pass.

Now I was curious and found there are 40 something gay social networking applications available. Some sounded too cutesy (Boy-Ahoy anyone?) others: variations on a theme (GROWLr, gfndr, Skout, Mr., Local Sin) a clever his and hers (Bender, Brenda) and Asian (9monsters). That doesn't include Skype or oovoo. Whew.

Back on my desktop, I yanked my dick--pic off my profile which should solve that problem, although I had noticed my inbox was full---with every email ever received-or so git seemed. 

There could be a lot worse things about mobile cruising: like the actual hook ups. Swine indeed. 

The Plus Life

That's right: it's time again for THE TEN COMMANDMENTS to play on American television. Passover begins at sundown on Good Friday, (April 6 for you no-goods out there) which means that Easter follows on Sunday.

I've had a series of men who for whatever reason or another have partners or family who they need to keep certain facts hush hush. I respect that...but you can only compartmentalize sooo much before it bites you in the ass.

On the assumption that many of will get some type of holiday time off from work this week, I have a little homework for you. That is, if you have a gmail account from the goo-goo-goo people at Google. The rest of you are on your own, but you might want to follow along, because somehow you'll be affected by this.

As you may have heard, Google streamlined all their various services to make your lives easier to check up on. Gmail, You Tube, Picasa, why even my host here Blogger, are all Google enterprises. I'm not going to go back and rehash what you shoulda shoulda done (clear out old history, double check what screen names you used) before everything was kinda rolled together. Nope.

Google is trying to keep pace with Facebook, and thus introduced 'Google +' , which features 'circles' = family, friends, acquaintances, you name it. In fact, you CAN name it by creating your own circle.

I decided what the hey, I'd give Google + a try.  Well, like Facebook, or Linked In or any other Social Network worth its salt, Google + combs through your online address books, who knows how else they snoop, I'm here writing about it for crying out loud.

Suddenly, I had a list of gmail addresses of people I didn't really remember talking to, but I guess I did. Even better, I could click on their name and get their real name, what other Google sites they used (assuming they checked the appropriate (or inappropriate) box).

So, after a couple of hours of deleting, reviewing and revising, I'm feeling pretty good about my privacy on Google.

Perhaps you should do the same. Otherwise it won't take a palm reader to predict your less than private future. And this ain't no April Fools Day joke.