Tag Archives: sex

Wanna’ Come Back And Party?

Room Service

1:45 AM.

I get an order for an Ice bucket and a Bottle of Champagne. Easy enough. I walk to the room. Let this just be easy, it’s the last order of the night. Please, God. I just can’t anymore.

I knock on the door. It opens.

A diminutive man with tiny little Von Dutch black bikini briefs, bleached hair and tribal tattoos looks me up and down, googly-eyed.

‘Hiiiiii! Oh my god! That was fast.’ He steps aside.
Behind him another man with only a towel wrapped around his waist yells,
‘What does he look like? What does he look like?’
He motions me in while saying,
‘Calm down you horny bitch. See for yourself.’ I move into the room quickly and set down the champagne. He’s watching my ass as I pass him. I turn and hand him the bill.
‘Mmm, Daddy. Slow down. When did you start working here?’ I just want out. I don’t give a shit if anybody’s gay, bi, tri whatever. I just don’t like being cruised. At any hour of the day. This is the last thing I want to deal with at the end of a long shift.
‘Yeah, about six months.’
Then towel guy, ‘Mr. Sexy voice! Do you do voiceovers? You should? That voice! All deep and bedroomy! Well, do you?’
‘No.’ I reach for the bill from Von Douche. He still hasn’t signed it.
He looks me in the eye. ‘Wanna stay and party?’ Then towel guy,
‘Yeah, we got crack and vodka!’ He points to his butt and to the minibar simultaneously.

‘Oh god, Joey shut the fuck up, you depraved little bitch!’ Von Douche says as he’s handing me the bill. ‘If you wanna’ come back and party after you get off…’ Joey interrupts.
‘Yeah, then you’ll really get off!’
‘No.’ I say.
I leave the room and I hear them start to argue.
‘Goddamnit, Joey! You ruin everything!’
I look at the check, no tip.

Young Scars (1985)

TBT… The Angry Young me


Just a young man

So seasoned at lying

At 17 years old





You believe me when I blame someone else

I piss on your favorite things

I torch whatever I can

Burn it all down

I must be really mad


You exposed me to sex






Sacred sex.

You showed me criminality

You stripped my sensitivity away

It was your matter-of-fact fuck it all attitude

that fueled my rage

I rebel.

You purged and cleansed the household of me

Then I’m gone in a drug-induced haze


I got high with you and your wives

Listened to your stories

Believed your lies

Then you put me away when I robbed you.

You threw me out.

You wondered why

You introduced me to all.

Sex, drugs, and Sinatra

You lived the life of all that was evil shallow and toxic.

Why do I hate?

Why am I still so fucking full of rage?

I can’t let it go

I don’t want to judge

I can’t stop




Live with it…






Wakayama Fembot Love


A couple of years ago I was doing some business with a small telecom concern in Osaka. My partner at the firm was a man I’ll call Yoshi. After a night of karaoke and drinking into oblivion, Yoshi said he wanted to take me to his house in Wakayama.


“Oh? To meet the family?” I asked. He turned very serious. “Uh, no. No family. This house very different, for working only.” We jumped in his car. “Jack, long ride coming. You want to wake up?” He pulled out a long vial of what looked like coke. “Sure,” I said. He sprinkled a nickel-sized pile between his thumb and index finger and took a loud snort, “GENKI,” he yelled while pumping his fist. Huh? I’ll have to look that one up in my ‘Japanese For Dummies’ guide later on. He hit the other nostril and yelled it again. He quickly went from being passive and docile, to totally loose and untamed. 
He turned up the music, it was Foghat’s “Slowride”. He sang along.

He gave me the vial, I was no stranger to nose candy. Although I was a little paranoid about doing it in this country, which carries a 1-7 year prison sentence for possession…

for any amount. Yoshi seemed very connected with some of the Prefectural Police, which I’m sure would not benefit me in the least. Fuck it, I set the vile in my lap and quickly grabbed a bill from the breast pocket of my sports coat, I rolled it up. I opened the vial and tapped a nice pile into the vial’s cap. I hit it. It burned worse than any coke I’d ever done. “FUCK! What is this?” He kept singing. “YOSHI WHAT IS IT?” “JACK, he screamed, IT’S SHABU! SHABU!” Huh? I’ll have to look that up later in my guide as well. BOOM!

Then it hit me. It was that hardcore, scalp electrifying, instantaneous no man’s land of awake feeling that only methamphetamine brings. “MOSHI MOSHI!” I yelled, while pumping my fist. He repeated the words and laughed. We made our way to Wakayama. My coworker, Pete Cavendish, called Wakayama “The Bakersfield of Japan, with hidden secrets.” We went through a couple of tolls. Foghat’s ‘Slow Ride’ repeating over and over which was starting to disturb and annoy me all at once. We finally arrived and we were in a small garage, the door closing behind us very quickly. It looked like a bunker. We got out of the car and Yoshi led me to a heavy steel door.

He put his thumb on a small pad on the wall, and it beeped. The door gently sprung open. We walked into a very large ‘gentlemen’s club’ like atmosphere. It was lit with strong overhead fluorescent lighting. It had two dancing stages complete with stripper poles. There were small tables and black and red velour couches and chairs. Yoshi picked up a remote and worked some buttons, the bright fluorescence was replaced with music (Ravel’s Bolero) as well as soft red, green, and yellow lighting. Then from out from behind the stages, beautiful women appeared breathtaking birdies in all shapes, ethnicities, and sizes.

They all wore sexy lingerie, one looked like Betty Page, another like Marilyn Monroe, and yet another like Raquel Welch. “Yoshi! What?!” He sat and sad nothing. Then more beauties came out! One looked Like Sophia Loren another like Jayne Mansfield. The detail was impeccable. Then a Natalie Wood and a Barbara Eden (complete with I Dream of Jeannie wardrobe) Then an odd sight, there was one that looked like Yvonne De Carlo who played Lillian on “The Munsters.” Which might be a real blast to fuck for the sake of novelty. But I was fixated on the Sophia Loren. Another one that looked like Mansfield. “Jack, you want?” He waved his hand across the club.

I knew they must have been models or prostitutes. Was it a brothel, a private strip club? This was an expensive little operation, regardless of what it was. I summoned the Sophia Loren and the Monroe. They both approached. They had still, wet, doll-like eyes. Their lips were full and moist. They both wore lingerie, the Monroe in period-perfect hose and garters. The Loren in a “Merry Widow” style bedtime outfit. Artificial intelligence? Robots? No, a robot is an inappropriate word. “Hello,” I said, “My name is Jack.” “Hello,” they said back in unison. Their voices seemed to match the starlets to a tee. They sat on either side of me and said no more.

Very quickly their hands were all over me, pulling, tugging, and stroking. Suddenly we were all naked and I couldn’t find a blemish or an imperfection on either one of them, they were anatomically correct and totally life-like. They both moaned occasionally saying things like “more, oh so good, oh yeah,” He didn’t quite have the intimate vocal component totally correct, but so what. They literally sucked me dry. As I dressed to leave, more of them came at me, with the Barbara Eden Bot leading the pack saying, “but master, wait.”

They cornered me and the Yvonne De Carlo bot (Lillian Munster) grabbed me from behind, they ripped off my clothes and I very quickly succumbed to the electronic nympho succubus’. Finally I couldn’t take anymore I screamed for Yoshi, “MAKE IT STOP! ENOUGH!” There was a high-pitched buzzer sound and they all retreated, I tried to put my suit back on but it was ripped and shredded. Yoshi came up and patted me on the back. “You ok?” I was more than ok. “You want more sex?” I had to think for a moment, I may never get this chance again. “Maybe later,” I said. “Maybe we have Ramen and Yakatori?” That sounded fantastic. Then maybe a little Shabu and a crack at the Mansfield Bot.








Bethany’s Break Room Rant

All writing kept intact and original to preserve the downright ignorance of the piece.

Bill and my sister Irene were French kissing and touching all up on each other in the God Damn company break room, it was disgusting. I mean between the sights, and the sounds (a lot of heavy breathing, both are fat and got deviated septums) and the smell the break room has anyway (it’s like the rotting vapors of 40 different frozen entrees in there.) I mean they’re both obeast and ugly as sin, so that’s like a double violation too, like a bad day at Hometown Buffett for all your 6th senses. I’m trying to just sit down and eat my Panda Express and maybe smoke a Pall Mall and these two are sitting there rubbing each other’s crotches and chests and licking out each other’s mouth holes, like a child licks Duncan Hines’s chocolate frosting out of a God Damn mixing bowl!

I was like ‘HEY! Excuse me!” They slowly stop and then Irene was like, “Bethany they ain’t no excuse for you, you sorry assed schoolmarm!” And she went back to liking on Bill’s neck and chin area like it’s a God Damn whore house or a speakeasy. She was always the strumpet of the bloodline, she got her titties done and like Daddy says she got no business putting a second story on an unsteady foundation, so anyways this cow ain’t got no shame, she was the town whore since she first started bleedin’ and the bitch still using abortion as a form of birth control, and says stupid shit like “ya’ll shouldn’t hate,” whenever the family tryin’ question her on it.

So but anyways, I was like, “Irene I’ll take your sorry fat rear end to human resources and this time they’ll fire your elephantine ass on account of being caught a public display of affection when Steve was fingering out that sorry, syphilitic, sloppy, slit in the stairwell!” They both stopped and stared at me, Bill’s jaw-dropping. Now my sister Is older and way bigger and fatter than me, bitch weighs 290 but I’ll kick that whore’s ass 5 ways til Tuesday and back again. And plus I’ll do it right here in this God Damn break room.

Because just two weeks ago that skank tried to throw hot Nescafé on me and I picked up a Walmart plastic folding break room chair and hit that cow right on her flabby back. Then they both got up. I said “that’s right slut lemme’ see that walk of shame, and Bill you a hot mess too, a real piece of hideous horny hillbilly trash! You sound like a God Damn Choctaw hog with that breathing issue, You married with 3 kids, and you’re in here doing this with this swine? I’m a call your wife Beth-Anne and tell her about your scuzzy ass if I ever see you doing this shit again.

I mean Beth-Anne is butt ugly but Irene here ain’t no Connie Sellecca either and this skanky trollop got crabs too, don’t ya’ Irene? And who knows what else. Cuz the bitch has banged everyone in here from the custodians to the CEO! Then she’s all, “Bethany I’m warning you, SHUT UP! Or…” I was like, “…or what? You gonna send a swarm crabs after me?” she turned and walked toward the snack cabinet, she had a mini skirt on and her backside looked like two ice cream cones supporting a russet potato. She opened up the cabinet while saying, “poor Bethany, still can’t get a man, pussy been on lockdown since uncle Willy violated it at the family reunion in ’98.

Get over it already girl we all got our crosses to bare and yours ain’t no big deal.” Now you would think this little TMI moment would truly send me into a tizzy. But it don’t, she’s the only one got her little puddy diddled by Silly Willy, and that bitch thinks that he did that shit to me too. So but then I’m like, “Bitch Silly Willy was only up in your claptrap with them ham-hock hands, he ain’t done shit on my real estate. Now you want me to really start outing your bizness? Like, let’s have a mother fucking intervention on them winter skid marks on those god damn Victoria’s or I should say Irene’s Secret shit and blood stained drawers?”

Bill looked like he was holding a dry heave and then to really push it I say “oh you ain’t heard Bill? It looks like a cherry chocolate festival in there.” Bill gagged and walked to the sink and Just then Irene quickly turned came at me with a 2 Liter bottle of Dr. Pepper. She was like “NyAAAHHHHH.” And I sidestepped her and Dr. Pepper like exploded on that bitch and Bill went running over there screaming, “I’LL HELP! I’LL HELP!” and then Irene just stood there screamin’ sound like that bitch caught the Holy ghost! I just sat down and started eating my food and I lit a cigarette and ate and smoked cuz all this bullshit ate into my lunch time so I had to do both. I leisurely got up and walked by with my middle finger in her grill ‘cuz she a bitch and a whore. But deep down I love her, she my kin.