Be very careful what you wish for Porno Jim; you just may get it!!
June 22nd 2007 04:39
I, on the other hand, had to raise funds the old fashioned way; by hocking everything I owned each spring. And barrowing the balance of the funds I needed from friends and family that hated the arrival of spring for some reason. What were they bitching about anyway; they got repaid for the most part.
Jim was a 55 year old self professed reincarnate of Aleister Crowley. He came into our mining partnership burdened with some of the strangest sexual proclivities of any human being I have ever known of, or personally encountered. That is why when we set up camps, I kept space between our sleeping tents; I didn’t want details about what went on inside his abode. His tent took on a life of its own when he entered into it; for Christ sakes, the sides heaved as though it were alive and breathing.
At that time I wanted to be a Sufi ascetic for some unknown reason, and this was as close as I could get to that dream with the funds and friends I had available.
Every night, Jim would regale me with his stories around the campfire, share his sick sordid memories and dreams of sexual conquests with me; there weren’t enough drugs in the state of California to get those images out of my mind. But his favorite theme was centered on his desire to find a hot blooded, nineteen year old redheaded waitress, with a trim figure to die for and the unspeakable things he wanted to do with her sexually. Half of which I figured were physically impossible, interesting, but impossible. I usually let the stories go in one ear and out of the other; guys, I had to do that because I just couldn’t take another exorcism.
Anyway, during an excursion to the surrounding restaurants in the area, wouldn’t you know it, we actually ran into a hot blooded, nineteen year old redheaded waitress, with a trim figure to die for; Jim nearly had a stroke looking at her. She noticed him drooling, the dripping noise should have given her a clue, and they struck up a conversation. Ill from the spectacle, I found a quiet booth at the other end of the restaurant and had a quiet meal. Porno and the waitress slipped away, for a couple of days. It appeared to me that Jim had gotten hooked up to fulfill his fondest wish. Be careful about what you wish for; sage advice I had tried to share with him on many occasions, may have finally come into play.
When Jim came back to our dredging camp a few days later, I steeled myself for the sordid details that I knew he was going to share with me, whether I was willing or not to listen; those details were going to be headed my way like a run away freight train. Surprise, surprise there was nothing for a couple of days. Crap, the story I didn’t really want to hear, now needed to be drug out of him. I dropped a couple of subtle hints. Finally, he broke down and shared details with me; the shotgun in his ribcage seemed to be all the encouragement he really required along with some medicinal whiskey I found.
He droned on for hours, releasing only miniscule tidbits of the story at a time; even his desire to share his sick sordid dreams of future sexual conquests seemed diminished. Why, what happened to shake this man to his core? Had his manhood somehow come under attack, he acted like a broken man. Finally, when all of the sobbing, ranting, raving and wailing stopped, I understood.
So, let me sum up Porno Jim’s sexual foray into fantasy land with the really hot blooded, nineteen year old redheaded waitress, with a trim figure to die for as gently as I can. For the entire few days he was with her, he was flatulent and flaccid. The dark Crowley magic he thought he could draw upon failed him completely in his hours of painful need.
But I had warned him; never leave home without your prescription reality glasses and enough Viagra to sink a battle ship. Oh, ha ha, Viagra didn’t come along until years later. God how I love that waitress!
Here is some sage dredging advice Jim; suck it up and deal with it.
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Comment by Kleonaptra
Kalikapsychosis
Comment by tlcorbin-raginravensview
Thank you for the compliment. I couldn't really say where you've been; however, I don't remember seeing you in my closet, if that's at all helpful.
Raven
Comment by Kleonaptra
Kalikapsychosis
You got all the right elements for me to feel right at home....Dark humour and wicked ideas with a few naked girls....What more could I ask for?
*Grin* Dont think your wife would appreciate me in your closet anyway raven!
Comment by tlcorbin-raginravensview
The question:
...What more could I ask for?
The anguished reply:
Anything, that doesn't involve the copious exchange of DNA while cleaving like ravenous dust bunnies, the area under my bed is becoming a petri dish for misplaced dust bunny DNA.
My wife has a wickedly funny sense of humor, I love it that she, 'gets me'. *flushed ever so slightly* The closet holds no surprises for her.
Raven