Dear Time Machine Ideas
Dear Time Machine Ideas;
Stop it. Please. Stop wafting through my mind like a warm wind on a May afternoon drifting through the screen doors and windows of the Victorian Mansion I (used to) call my mind.
I don't want to screw Hollywood Starlets from the past. I want women to enjoy me for who I am, what I can be, and my general presence, music tastes, hobbies, and the things that make me "Me". Miss Monroe, Miss Taylor, and so many more, MY GOD you've made me horny as fuck over the years, but, if I were to take a tape deck back in time and play you Sinister Devices, You'd run away screaming like hell. Plus... I know some pop stuff back then, but I feel it's unfair, and not nice to go look up their favorite things before going back in time and asking them if they'd like to go "for coffee", but. Also... I might, I mean, if I have to. I mean, if like, some supreme being, like, visited me and was like, "Hey, we gotta send you back in time to go do stuff with Elizabeth Taylor from around the time Cleopatra was being done, and she's got the costumes available, and likes Jazz and cold beer and she smokes weed. I'll get you a pad, a car and a driver for when you come back.", I don't know what I would say, I mean, I would be flattered number one, and probably would have jumped fast, but, on the other hand. If Miss Taylor was with a dude, I wouldn't want to hurt their relationship, nor wish to bring pain into the heart of the man that (might) love(s) her, as Many men have gotten into the women of my life, so far's pants, minds and hearts and totally wrecked stuff for me. I don't want to do that... (she was so fn fine in cleopatra), I'm not fn going to say some whimsical plastic coated crap like "I hope one day that I meet my own Cleopatra, and that does this and does that and likes this and likes that.", I don't know if that will happen. That's ONE of the beauties of "life", we don't know what's going to happen... and sometimes, ... people are so disconnected, and thins get "covered up", so much that we won't know for decades what might have happened in a political thing, the death of a Hollywood Star, constructions of monuments, artwork, relationships of people, people's sex preferences, blah blah blah. I'm not saying that everything comes out in the wash. Sometimes the wash doesn't happen for centuries, or thousands of years. I'm not waiting. I don't want to go back in time and kill Hitler. That isn't my job. It was the job of people who could have killed him, but DIDN'T. Why should I have to worry about saving the world. I'm no damn hero. I don't even really dig heroes, except for like, Luke Skywalker, My Dad, and a few more. A handful, or so. Not the whole DC or Marvel Megaverses. Harvey Milk, was a hero, Martin Luther King Jr. was a hero. Rosa Parks, was a hero. Plus size models, and people with disabilities that get things done in photoshoots, as well as outcasts who start bands and support the underdog.
Those are heroes. People who make clear our rights, and why we need to stand up for them. Those are heroes. No one in the past would have any idea what I was talking about. I'd have to be reprogrammed to deal with their speak, their technology, their beer, their weed, their EVERYTHING to be able to do fun tasks, or do some super secret spy stuff... "I've come from the Future... to save you ALL. Where can I charge my phone". That won't work. For a while, if say I was going back to like the 1920s, to intervene in and help Nikolai Tesla, or some stuff, I would have to be brainwashed into the mindset of a person of that time so that the transition would be seamless between time states, as not to tear the fabric of space and time. Hitler lived, Hitler did bad stuff. He taught us what a bad guy was.
If we didn't have Hitler, we wouldn't have Darth Vader, or other bad guys in films, but what he did over there was just plain not cool. I would tell one of his counterparts to off the little prick. I wound't do it myself. I would inform them during one of their occult meeting things when they were doing super secret stuff, "hey, man, your bro, over there, Adolf, ... no good man, okay.", POW.
I would have like to have gone to Monterey Pop, and or maybe Woodstock, or OCTOBER 30th and 31st at the Grande Ballroom in Detroit, to see the MC5 and The Stooges. That would have been rad. Or CBGB's to see Blondie and the Ramones, and maybe an old Hawkwind show when Lemmy was in it, and Stacia was a dancer for the band. I would have liked to have said hi to Harry Nillson and the Hollywood Vampires (the drinking bros, not the band)... but I don't know. I mean. I've had plenty of fun. Maybe I don't need to go back in time for anything. To have met Steve Jobs would have been cool. Walt Disney, too, for that matter, I would have taken him to now, and make hom stop smoking the fucking cigarettes, cool down on the booze, and start realizing his influence on people, thereby changing his life into a more positive mode. But... I can't (today), everything changes, though. Technology, people, relationships, sexual preferences, dreams, hopes, goals, tastes in music, tastes in people, tastes in friends, tastes in food, clothing, art, and so much more. Things I ACTUALLY wish I could have gone back in time for, is to try to stop my mom from gambling. She spent the rent form our apartment a bunch of times at nearby Native American casinos. Send me to England, I say, Indians. Some people LIKE me there, even women. OR. I should use the time machine to set up a fail safe system for the casinos to be able to stop my mom from going in there with the rent and blocking her from doing it, thereby making us NOT homeless form July of 2017 to July of 2018. AND, AND to stop my mom from moving us from Calpella CA to Lucrene CA, in 1989. I was going to a private school. The girls liked me there in Calpella and at the school I was attending. liked as in appreciated, not negative, not condescending, and not mean. Moved to Lucerne in December of 89.
FUCK THAT SHIT.
I'm not gonna start on my past, i'm not gaonna bring up all the negatives. All it will do is make me sad, and you, the reader, not happy as well. SO... Let's try to wrap this up, as best possible.
I am starting to like being me. I don't think it's necessary for me to fix everyone's problems, nor should I have to. I believe that I need to make sure that I have shelter, food, clothing, and a little bit of happiness form time to time. Be that happiness in the form of lovemaking, playing games, listening to music, enjoying whatever... I guess that's okay. I don't believe in commercial television, I stopped watching the stuff back in late january. I miss the Price is Right like hell, and Let's Make a Deal, though, and some other stuff. I'm not too sure I miss PBS. People should just pay for PBS out of their taxes or something, so we don't have to be bugged by their fn pledge drives, and have our tote bags, and window stickers for our cars sent to us on a twice-a-year basis, as well as our Poverotti CD's, our "Get Smarter and Live Better, Now", DVD's and book sets, etc etc etc. To us almost automatically, if we watch PBS at all, or ever have in the past and care that the network that built up Childrens Educational Programming deserves a damn dime of our cash. Did you ever watch Mr. Rogers or Sesame Street? Can you read today? Can you count, today?? If So, DONATE TO YOUR LOCAL PBS and Independent TV and radio stations that inform you of news of the world from and indepentent view, and are not just out there to shove another single in your ears form some plastic surgery sex object or fake as hell guy singer, who, in five years after the records stop selling, will probably come out as gay. No big deal, it's just kind of funny to watch the female fans break down on so many celeb guys that come out of the closet and they get heartbroken. Why the fuck weren't you, fangirl, paying attendion to that "dork", or "nerd", guy that stumbled like hell talking to you after he got the courage up via booz, drugs or whatever, to go over and talk to your fine ass. Why do I say Fine Ass??? Women go through hell to make themselves look good. Hours of prpework before going out, sometimes. Plastic surgery, sometimes. Crash Diets, sometimes, Liposuction, extreme diets and so, so much more. The hell that they go through on a day to day basis is extreme. I used to have to get makeup done, back in the 1990s when I tried to be a member of a local Rocky Horror Picture SHow ensemble. I couldn't do it. There were so many women there that were so hot, I was so shy, and intimidated by their sexiness it was very hard for me to talk to them. When you're fifteen and a half and you see a live set of perfect breasts behind a see through black top, with the leather on, the amount of blood in my brain that would have permitted me to have the mind to talk to them had already shot down to the lower half of my body, (middle area... some call the groin), thereby allowing me to shake, stutter, just say hi, and not really talk... it wasn't easy, and still isn't to this day. I get shy. I know... "Why are you shy, NOW, Oliver???, after you've already said some of the most OUT THERE STUFF on Earth????". I don't know. I am more sensitive now. I know I don't want to be hurt. I know I don't want to hurt people. I don't want to intimidate, be careless, be mean, or step on anyone's toes. ... Sometimes.
If I'm lit enough to be brave enough to go up and ask woman, "what's up?", and start a conversation... it's kind of difficult. The #metoo movement did that. Being around some certain people... did that. Being abused by this guy, I'll call "Jeff", from a "band", called "Soccer Mom Pimps", is an example. He would, on a week to week basis, invite me, and the woman i liked, Cheryl, to his home, he would get us very drunk and fucked up. He would take advantage of Cheryl's drunken state, he would make her give him oral sex and make her have sex with him. Or maybe she just wanted to have sex with him. Either way, not cool. This happened from about 2002 'till 2009, when we (Cheryl and I), were close, then until 2011 after we had "separated" (kind of).
Anyways. The Merry Go round broke down. When you let people in your life that hurt you, you need to change and move quick. Life is short. Everyone wants stuff from someone else, if you don't believe me, live like I did until you learn. There are liars everywhere, snakes in the grass at every step. Your friends may not really be your friends at all, some times. Keep your guard up, be strong.
Don't try to fix anyone's problems but your own, take care of priorities first, and things might be okay for you. If not, change things till they get better, take a break when you need to, Use protection when you need to, sexually and mentally. She may be "your gal", but she may be "everyone else's pal", as well, liek the old Advertisement said.
tags:
time machines, PBS, positive thoughts, an end of heroes, #metooisnotjustforwomenandgirls
Stop it. Please. Stop wafting through my mind like a warm wind on a May afternoon drifting through the screen doors and windows of the Victorian Mansion I (used to) call my mind.
I don't want to screw Hollywood Starlets from the past. I want women to enjoy me for who I am, what I can be, and my general presence, music tastes, hobbies, and the things that make me "Me". Miss Monroe, Miss Taylor, and so many more, MY GOD you've made me horny as fuck over the years, but, if I were to take a tape deck back in time and play you Sinister Devices, You'd run away screaming like hell. Plus... I know some pop stuff back then, but I feel it's unfair, and not nice to go look up their favorite things before going back in time and asking them if they'd like to go "for coffee", but. Also... I might, I mean, if I have to. I mean, if like, some supreme being, like, visited me and was like, "Hey, we gotta send you back in time to go do stuff with Elizabeth Taylor from around the time Cleopatra was being done, and she's got the costumes available, and likes Jazz and cold beer and she smokes weed. I'll get you a pad, a car and a driver for when you come back.", I don't know what I would say, I mean, I would be flattered number one, and probably would have jumped fast, but, on the other hand. If Miss Taylor was with a dude, I wouldn't want to hurt their relationship, nor wish to bring pain into the heart of the man that (might) love(s) her, as Many men have gotten into the women of my life, so far's pants, minds and hearts and totally wrecked stuff for me. I don't want to do that... (she was so fn fine in cleopatra), I'm not fn going to say some whimsical plastic coated crap like "I hope one day that I meet my own Cleopatra, and that does this and does that and likes this and likes that.", I don't know if that will happen. That's ONE of the beauties of "life", we don't know what's going to happen... and sometimes, ... people are so disconnected, and thins get "covered up", so much that we won't know for decades what might have happened in a political thing, the death of a Hollywood Star, constructions of monuments, artwork, relationships of people, people's sex preferences, blah blah blah. I'm not saying that everything comes out in the wash. Sometimes the wash doesn't happen for centuries, or thousands of years. I'm not waiting. I don't want to go back in time and kill Hitler. That isn't my job. It was the job of people who could have killed him, but DIDN'T. Why should I have to worry about saving the world. I'm no damn hero. I don't even really dig heroes, except for like, Luke Skywalker, My Dad, and a few more. A handful, or so. Not the whole DC or Marvel Megaverses. Harvey Milk, was a hero, Martin Luther King Jr. was a hero. Rosa Parks, was a hero. Plus size models, and people with disabilities that get things done in photoshoots, as well as outcasts who start bands and support the underdog.
Those are heroes. People who make clear our rights, and why we need to stand up for them. Those are heroes. No one in the past would have any idea what I was talking about. I'd have to be reprogrammed to deal with their speak, their technology, their beer, their weed, their EVERYTHING to be able to do fun tasks, or do some super secret spy stuff... "I've come from the Future... to save you ALL. Where can I charge my phone". That won't work. For a while, if say I was going back to like the 1920s, to intervene in and help Nikolai Tesla, or some stuff, I would have to be brainwashed into the mindset of a person of that time so that the transition would be seamless between time states, as not to tear the fabric of space and time. Hitler lived, Hitler did bad stuff. He taught us what a bad guy was.
If we didn't have Hitler, we wouldn't have Darth Vader, or other bad guys in films, but what he did over there was just plain not cool. I would tell one of his counterparts to off the little prick. I wound't do it myself. I would inform them during one of their occult meeting things when they were doing super secret stuff, "hey, man, your bro, over there, Adolf, ... no good man, okay.", POW.
I would have like to have gone to Monterey Pop, and or maybe Woodstock, or OCTOBER 30th and 31st at the Grande Ballroom in Detroit, to see the MC5 and The Stooges. That would have been rad. Or CBGB's to see Blondie and the Ramones, and maybe an old Hawkwind show when Lemmy was in it, and Stacia was a dancer for the band. I would have liked to have said hi to Harry Nillson and the Hollywood Vampires (the drinking bros, not the band)... but I don't know. I mean. I've had plenty of fun. Maybe I don't need to go back in time for anything. To have met Steve Jobs would have been cool. Walt Disney, too, for that matter, I would have taken him to now, and make hom stop smoking the fucking cigarettes, cool down on the booze, and start realizing his influence on people, thereby changing his life into a more positive mode. But... I can't (today), everything changes, though. Technology, people, relationships, sexual preferences, dreams, hopes, goals, tastes in music, tastes in people, tastes in friends, tastes in food, clothing, art, and so much more. Things I ACTUALLY wish I could have gone back in time for, is to try to stop my mom from gambling. She spent the rent form our apartment a bunch of times at nearby Native American casinos. Send me to England, I say, Indians. Some people LIKE me there, even women. OR. I should use the time machine to set up a fail safe system for the casinos to be able to stop my mom from going in there with the rent and blocking her from doing it, thereby making us NOT homeless form July of 2017 to July of 2018. AND, AND to stop my mom from moving us from Calpella CA to Lucrene CA, in 1989. I was going to a private school. The girls liked me there in Calpella and at the school I was attending. liked as in appreciated, not negative, not condescending, and not mean. Moved to Lucerne in December of 89.
FUCK THAT SHIT.
I'm not gonna start on my past, i'm not gaonna bring up all the negatives. All it will do is make me sad, and you, the reader, not happy as well. SO... Let's try to wrap this up, as best possible.
I am starting to like being me. I don't think it's necessary for me to fix everyone's problems, nor should I have to. I believe that I need to make sure that I have shelter, food, clothing, and a little bit of happiness form time to time. Be that happiness in the form of lovemaking, playing games, listening to music, enjoying whatever... I guess that's okay. I don't believe in commercial television, I stopped watching the stuff back in late january. I miss the Price is Right like hell, and Let's Make a Deal, though, and some other stuff. I'm not too sure I miss PBS. People should just pay for PBS out of their taxes or something, so we don't have to be bugged by their fn pledge drives, and have our tote bags, and window stickers for our cars sent to us on a twice-a-year basis, as well as our Poverotti CD's, our "Get Smarter and Live Better, Now", DVD's and book sets, etc etc etc. To us almost automatically, if we watch PBS at all, or ever have in the past and care that the network that built up Childrens Educational Programming deserves a damn dime of our cash. Did you ever watch Mr. Rogers or Sesame Street? Can you read today? Can you count, today?? If So, DONATE TO YOUR LOCAL PBS and Independent TV and radio stations that inform you of news of the world from and indepentent view, and are not just out there to shove another single in your ears form some plastic surgery sex object or fake as hell guy singer, who, in five years after the records stop selling, will probably come out as gay. No big deal, it's just kind of funny to watch the female fans break down on so many celeb guys that come out of the closet and they get heartbroken. Why the fuck weren't you, fangirl, paying attendion to that "dork", or "nerd", guy that stumbled like hell talking to you after he got the courage up via booz, drugs or whatever, to go over and talk to your fine ass. Why do I say Fine Ass??? Women go through hell to make themselves look good. Hours of prpework before going out, sometimes. Plastic surgery, sometimes. Crash Diets, sometimes, Liposuction, extreme diets and so, so much more. The hell that they go through on a day to day basis is extreme. I used to have to get makeup done, back in the 1990s when I tried to be a member of a local Rocky Horror Picture SHow ensemble. I couldn't do it. There were so many women there that were so hot, I was so shy, and intimidated by their sexiness it was very hard for me to talk to them. When you're fifteen and a half and you see a live set of perfect breasts behind a see through black top, with the leather on, the amount of blood in my brain that would have permitted me to have the mind to talk to them had already shot down to the lower half of my body, (middle area... some call the groin), thereby allowing me to shake, stutter, just say hi, and not really talk... it wasn't easy, and still isn't to this day. I get shy. I know... "Why are you shy, NOW, Oliver???, after you've already said some of the most OUT THERE STUFF on Earth????". I don't know. I am more sensitive now. I know I don't want to be hurt. I know I don't want to hurt people. I don't want to intimidate, be careless, be mean, or step on anyone's toes. ... Sometimes.
If I'm lit enough to be brave enough to go up and ask woman, "what's up?", and start a conversation... it's kind of difficult. The #metoo movement did that. Being around some certain people... did that. Being abused by this guy, I'll call "Jeff", from a "band", called "Soccer Mom Pimps", is an example. He would, on a week to week basis, invite me, and the woman i liked, Cheryl, to his home, he would get us very drunk and fucked up. He would take advantage of Cheryl's drunken state, he would make her give him oral sex and make her have sex with him. Or maybe she just wanted to have sex with him. Either way, not cool. This happened from about 2002 'till 2009, when we (Cheryl and I), were close, then until 2011 after we had "separated" (kind of).
Anyways. The Merry Go round broke down. When you let people in your life that hurt you, you need to change and move quick. Life is short. Everyone wants stuff from someone else, if you don't believe me, live like I did until you learn. There are liars everywhere, snakes in the grass at every step. Your friends may not really be your friends at all, some times. Keep your guard up, be strong.
Don't try to fix anyone's problems but your own, take care of priorities first, and things might be okay for you. If not, change things till they get better, take a break when you need to, Use protection when you need to, sexually and mentally. She may be "your gal", but she may be "everyone else's pal", as well, liek the old Advertisement said.
tags:
time machines, PBS, positive thoughts, an end of heroes, #metooisnotjustforwomenandgirls
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