I'm Not Ready to Prostitute My Blog

I was commissioned to review a porn site. It was supposed to go here, in this here post that you're reading right now, but I just don't have enough words.

See, I tend to be a little involved with what I'm writing, so much so that it gets a little over the top sometimes. Apologetically, I elected to disclose the depths of my kinky in a more, shall we say, inspired post. I find it difficult to express carnal details if it were in a mandatory context. I'm already dribbling with bad taste. Reviewing a porn site would be overkill.

It's money for sex. Or sex talk. So how far removed is that from prostitution when the exchange of power exists as some defiling catalyst?

I hope you'd understand why you're not reading some sort of published masturbation right now.

Technical Support Story #1: To Spam or Not to Spam?

I do technical support as some kinky night job, and you have no idea how some calls just make it worth the long nights. Let me share some of those stories beginning with this post on.

I was walking this caller, he was this guy with a rasping low voice, through customizing the SPAM PROTECTION in his Yahoo inbox. He has no problems at all following directions, and his inbox was almost completely SPAM PROOF within minutes.

I went on ahead and gave him examples of which email messages to look out for. So I told him, "No sir, you don't want that VIAGRA mail. Let's go on ahead and check that to MARK it as SPAM."

And then there was silence. About ten to fifteen seconds of it. I just had to put the phone on mute after realizing that he must be having second thoughts.

Beggars Can't be Choosers Part 4: This Sort of Put Things in Perspective, Doesn't It?

I might not seem like it, but I'm a mathematician by virtue of academic training. I conquered complex numbers and I braved probability, statistics, and trigonometric equations. I challenged the complex sorceries of geometry with the pi as my excalibur, I rallied numbers in their natural, real, and rational metamorphoses, and I crusaded to determine the time at which trains A and B will meet as they travelled X number of miles from each other.

I recited the Pythagorean theorem like a mantra.

I know my mathematics. And I know my equations. But how in the world does anyone make this out?



Here in the Philippines, a girl no more than 11 years past her childhood conceded to suspending herself in mid air with nothing but a tight-enough cord around her neck to support her weight. This, in turn, blocks all possible circulation of oxygen to her brain as it chokes her well enough to kill her. That, of course, was the original plan all along, and, given her eleven defeated years, alarmed us of a message which was beyond worrisome.

She killed herself out of poverty.

Yes, the clarity of the message is striking, but its not something that I'm ready to accept. She's no more than 12. And she killed herself because she was poor. There's no rhyme or reason to it, but that's just me talking, and I know that I'm just not prepared to take things as they are.

I pray for you, Mariannet Amper. Your message was obvious, and you stressed that enough.

"Thanks" would've been appropriate, but painfully tactless and altogether cold blooded. But seriously, may you be given the peace and comfort that this life never afforded you.

Hello!

I reckon I did a good job of pulling myself together after all this uncalled for abstinence from blogging. Hello friends, I am back.

Yes, I might be at a loss for words right now on account of I often post preparedly, but look at how good I steal my images just to make a point!

Oh, and feel free to navigate through the shitting bull dropdown to your right. I take it most of my you guys from way back might recall that wonderful chunkiness. It's nuttier this time though, and runnier at that, since I've updated it with all of my posts to date!

You know how I love to make life easier for your clickers. And speaking of which, pray be most generous with those Ads. He hee, I'm sexier now, see?