Gringo...the torso
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Gringo attempts suicide....a comedy
I'm not sure when the tale was was first told, a palaver around a 1950s boy scout camp fire a'la Stand By Me perhaps. While the origins of this legend are a mystery, it's existence today my readers is very real. Humor me its retelling and then keep it in your mind as our story continues.
Within every group of young boys, there will always be one who has been entrusted, one who knows...It is told that when a boy reaches puberty and discovers himself and his sexuality, as sure as the sun will rise, so will the boy explore his own body, pushing himself with his new found sexual capability....masturbation. The lore continues that he may continue along this path, but carefully, because if he reaches his century mark, his 100th masturbatory experience...he will lose his sight and it is likely that he will die.
-And so it is told, and retold-
When I was but a Gringo Nino, like all boys I began to notice my newly equipped body and its capabilities. Masturbation was the order of the day! (and night, before breakfast, after school, before showering, showering, after showering, ok you get the idea). Also I was fully aware of the above legend, but really who believes in that stuff? Much like a spooky game played at juvenile slumber parties everywhere...you can chant the haunting lyrics into your bathroom mirror in the candlelit darkness, but really, are you really bringing out the bogeyman?
Of course as book learned adults we know better, but there is something, not quite substantial enough to lay your hand upon, that as a child, while you know its not real, still...do you want to tempt fate alone in your bathroom at home? I didn't think so.
At some point along the way, Gringo Nino learned to read. In and around his 13th birthday, Gringo was bestowed by his parents a Christian book of sexuality for teenagers. As one might expect this book discusses such topics as teenage pregnancy, diseases, and social pressures. Additionally, what this book covers, is masturbation, specifically dangerous masturbation, or Auto-erotic Asphyxia.
As an aside, Erotic Asphyxia is the denial of oxygen to the brain during an orgasm to heighten the effect of the climax. A brain starved of oxygen will go into state of heightened sensitivity. Couple that with an orgasm, and you get a mind-blowing orgasm. The "auto" part simply refers to doing this to one's self. Auto-erotic asphyxia is essentially choking one's self while masturbating. The risk, if it's not obvious enough, is that you will choke yourself to death on accident.
The book describes situations where kids are found naked and hanged and warns of this behavior. Specifically, the book says, (and I'm paraphrasing here as its been quite some time since I've possessed the book)
While that is what the book said, a thirteen year old Gringo Nino absorbed:
in other words:
And there it is, the legend printed in black and white! Gringo is petrified, blood drains from his pale face, more rapidly so draining from the very bodily appendage that is leading him to his ulitmate demise. Poor Gringo, he hasn't been counting. How close is he? He guesses, estimates, guesstimates, but there's just no way of knowing how close he is, how many times he has left! He's thinking six.
Curse you Cinemax Late Nite!! (unbeknownst to my parents, piped into bedroom's TV set)
Larry Flynt...you have swung your axe as truly as any gallows' headsman. My blood will be on your hands!!
I remember it as if it were yesterday, a Thursday, Christy Canyon will be featured on Skinemax Late Nite, by my best reckoning, I am three away...I am dead man walking.
Within every group of young boys, there will always be one who has been entrusted, one who knows...It is told that when a boy reaches puberty and discovers himself and his sexuality, as sure as the sun will rise, so will the boy explore his own body, pushing himself with his new found sexual capability....masturbation. The lore continues that he may continue along this path, but carefully, because if he reaches his century mark, his 100th masturbatory experience...he will lose his sight and it is likely that he will die.
-And so it is told, and retold-
When I was but a Gringo Nino, like all boys I began to notice my newly equipped body and its capabilities. Masturbation was the order of the day! (and night, before breakfast, after school, before showering, showering, after showering, ok you get the idea). Also I was fully aware of the above legend, but really who believes in that stuff? Much like a spooky game played at juvenile slumber parties everywhere...you can chant the haunting lyrics into your bathroom mirror in the candlelit darkness, but really, are you really bringing out the bogeyman?
Of course as book learned adults we know better, but there is something, not quite substantial enough to lay your hand upon, that as a child, while you know its not real, still...do you want to tempt fate alone in your bathroom at home? I didn't think so.
At some point along the way, Gringo Nino learned to read. In and around his 13th birthday, Gringo was bestowed by his parents a Christian book of sexuality for teenagers. As one might expect this book discusses such topics as teenage pregnancy, diseases, and social pressures. Additionally, what this book covers, is masturbation, specifically dangerous masturbation, or Auto-erotic Asphyxia.
As an aside, Erotic Asphyxia is the denial of oxygen to the brain during an orgasm to heighten the effect of the climax. A brain starved of oxygen will go into state of heightened sensitivity. Couple that with an orgasm, and you get a mind-blowing orgasm. The "auto" part simply refers to doing this to one's self. Auto-erotic asphyxia is essentially choking one's self while masturbating. The risk, if it's not obvious enough, is that you will choke yourself to death on accident.
The book describes situations where kids are found naked and hanged and warns of this behavior. Specifically, the book says, (and I'm paraphrasing here as its been quite some time since I've possessed the book)
All boys need to know that if you have practiced Auto-erotic asphyxia masturbation one or one hundred times, you always run the very real risk of ending up killing yourself
While that is what the book said, a thirteen year old Gringo Nino absorbed:
All boys need to know that if you have practiced Auto-erotic asphyxia masturbation one or one hundred times, you always run the very real risk of ending up killing yourself
in other words:
All boys need to know if you have practiced masturbation one hundred times, you end up killing yourself.
And there it is, the legend printed in black and white! Gringo is petrified, blood drains from his pale face, more rapidly so draining from the very bodily appendage that is leading him to his ulitmate demise. Poor Gringo, he hasn't been counting. How close is he? He guesses, estimates, guesstimates, but there's just no way of knowing how close he is, how many times he has left! He's thinking six.
Curse you Cinemax Late Nite!! (unbeknownst to my parents, piped into bedroom's TV set)
Larry Flynt...you have swung your axe as truly as any gallows' headsman. My blood will be on your hands!!
I remember it as if it were yesterday, a Thursday, Christy Canyon will be featured on Skinemax Late Nite, by my best reckoning, I am three away...I am dead man walking.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
A Pirate Looks at...35
This post is a bit of a departure from previous ones. I thought I might offer a bit of self-reflection. Times...they are a changin
At this point in most 30-something men's life- chaos, flux, movement, growth and retraction seem to rule the day.
Like the sand that chases the receeding surf from beneath your feet, I find it difficult to still myself enough to take a personal inventory. What it is that I am missing, I cannot readily identify. Oh sure, everyone needs more money, more fun, more time, more more more, myself included, but that's not quite it.
But I think I'm feeling something else, its here, been here the whole time, a missing piece in my own stock.
It's a recent personal revelation..shared with my one's of readers, but I've discovered that I miss her, my sea.
I grew up on her, with her. So I thought I'd list out a few things I've done with her and try to figure out how to expand this list several times over!
1. I sailed straight thru the Gulf of Mexico, Texas Coast to Key West, several times
2. I've fished her waters in 4 different countries
3. I've come close to my earthly demise no less than 5 times around her
4. I've been pulled by her currents helplessly out to sea
5. I've SCUBA'd
6. alone
7. at night
8. I've fished just off of her banks in Nicaragua, only a stones throw from enormous alligators who would try and steal my catch before I could boat it
9. I've spearfished
10. I've come face to face, alone, in the open water with a shark bigger than I
11. I've surfed in 3 different countries
12. I've raced sailboats
13. I've come in last place more times than first
14. I've been in seas so rough that I had to strap myself into a bunk to sleep to keep from being thrown out
15. I've seen hurricanes
16. I've shared the water with water spouts
17. I've never been sea sick
18. I've flown underwater
19. I've boated a 1,100 lb. Marlin, it took 8 hours
20. I've never had sex, with another person, in saltwater
21. I've spent days in caves who's access was hidden underwater
22. I've been alone on an island populated with thousands of iguanas
23. I've seen countless colors of her and beneath her
There is very little to this brief list that was done in the last 10 years. I mean to address that.
-Gringo
At this point in most 30-something men's life- chaos, flux, movement, growth and retraction seem to rule the day.
Like the sand that chases the receeding surf from beneath your feet, I find it difficult to still myself enough to take a personal inventory. What it is that I am missing, I cannot readily identify. Oh sure, everyone needs more money, more fun, more time, more more more, myself included, but that's not quite it.
But I think I'm feeling something else, its here, been here the whole time, a missing piece in my own stock.
It's a recent personal revelation..shared with my one's of readers, but I've discovered that I miss her, my sea.
I grew up on her, with her. So I thought I'd list out a few things I've done with her and try to figure out how to expand this list several times over!
1. I sailed straight thru the Gulf of Mexico, Texas Coast to Key West, several times
2. I've fished her waters in 4 different countries
3. I've come close to my earthly demise no less than 5 times around her
4. I've been pulled by her currents helplessly out to sea
5. I've SCUBA'd
6. alone
7. at night
8. I've fished just off of her banks in Nicaragua, only a stones throw from enormous alligators who would try and steal my catch before I could boat it
9. I've spearfished
10. I've come face to face, alone, in the open water with a shark bigger than I
11. I've surfed in 3 different countries
12. I've raced sailboats
13. I've come in last place more times than first
14. I've been in seas so rough that I had to strap myself into a bunk to sleep to keep from being thrown out
15. I've seen hurricanes
16. I've shared the water with water spouts
17. I've never been sea sick
18. I've flown underwater
19. I've boated a 1,100 lb. Marlin, it took 8 hours
20. I've never had sex, with another person, in saltwater
21. I've spent days in caves who's access was hidden underwater
22. I've been alone on an island populated with thousands of iguanas
23. I've seen countless colors of her and beneath her
There is very little to this brief list that was done in the last 10 years. I mean to address that.
-Gringo
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
fingered notion
Not getting a big fat stimulus check? Yeah, me neither. Want some more bad news? Not much in way of freakiness or food in this post. I know, I know, consider this then one of those annoying Emergency Broadcast tests that only seem to run right in the middle of your favorite TV program.
What I wanted to raise up the pole today is the simple pleasure of finding clarity. Now I'm not talking spiritual, Burning Man Peyote Park stuff mind you. I haven't had near enough libation to reach that plane, but rather to me it's satisfying to come across a notion or even a singular word that brings right in to focus the definition of a concept. Allow me two uniquely related examples.
"Concepts, notions, definitions? Gringo you had me up through Peyote! Ok fuck the broadcast and that ear deafening emergency monotone Gringo...and get back to that killer chocolate cake recipe and that action with the ropes and restraints!"
Relax dear reader, the cake and restraints are coming, but I've got to keep up with that book learn'd blog reader too! Indulge me some Papa Hemingway:
And for 'ol Gringo there it was. With a little lead in for color, Hemingway had defined for me a big part of my sexuality.
Now I know I'm not breaking new ground here...but if I may, I'd like to speak only for myself.
Sex, fucking, making love, in all its wondrous, naughty, loving ways is very much about the build and the release. The build can start in the mind and work and churn itself for days, leading further to that initial contact with your lover, further still into the myriad of ways to pleasure your lover, pleasure yourself, building always, the chemicals in your body raging, testosterone, endorphins, all building, for days perhaps, certainly hours.
I've not the language to describe fully the state of this build and how it feels to be in it. The blessed release, the orgasm further defies my own grasp of language, so I won't even bother here.
But what has been elusive for me is the mixed feelings. For those hours that I am building, the state that my body finds itself in, luxuriates in, is upon that release, gone...lost. It's not a painful crash of course, that's what the orgasm is for, but nonetheless it's that very blend of ecstasy and loss that quite simply, for me, I found definition of in a sixty year old book.
So 'ol Gringo likes to luxuriate! Ok that sounds a little creepy, but you get me. That state prior to the release, there is no better place to hang out. If they served tequila there I'd sit at its bar all the time...happy hour every hour. So when I get there, get the chance to be there, I wanna stay there. Thankfully I'm not too old for making return visits but there is nothing like getting to that place and then hanging around for a while. So how does 'ol Gringo manage that? Allow me a further indulgence:
If my reader hasn't had the time, there is an exceptionally good writer who shares of her adventures and misadventures with the rest of the lucky us on her blog. www.arousaloftheminx.com Fair warning dear reader, she will captivate you and you will spend loads of time at her sight, never mind the hot HNT pics she's so generous with.
I credit her with the clarity she inadvertently have me by using the word...edging.
I'd never heard of it, lord knows there is plenty I have never heard of, but as soon as I read the word, I knew exactly what she was talking about. Edging is the very notion I'm attempting so that I can hang on to that build, pushing back Hemingway's sadness. For me its the word I can use to best describe my attempt at that balance!
Mr. Hemingway, meet Little Minx...Little Minx, Ernest Hemingway circa 1921.
Whew!! If you've sat here at My Floridita this far into the post, you certainly deserve a reward! Or your computer has frozen and you are stuck with me. Either way, thanks for the time, I've got another post coming soon that I'll get to work on. So in the mean time, do some cooking, do so loving, and ladies, feel free to send in some nekkid pics!
And trust me, the chocolate cake is worth the wait fellow patron, and as for the ropes and restraints, well I've always been a good sailor...
What I wanted to raise up the pole today is the simple pleasure of finding clarity. Now I'm not talking spiritual, Burning Man Peyote Park stuff mind you. I haven't had near enough libation to reach that plane, but rather to me it's satisfying to come across a notion or even a singular word that brings right in to focus the definition of a concept. Allow me two uniquely related examples.
"Concepts, notions, definitions? Gringo you had me up through Peyote! Ok fuck the broadcast and that ear deafening emergency monotone Gringo...and get back to that killer chocolate cake recipe and that action with the ropes and restraints!"
Relax dear reader, the cake and restraints are coming, but I've got to keep up with that book learn'd blog reader too! Indulge me some Papa Hemingway:
The story was writing itself...I ordered another rum St. James and I watched the girl whenever I looked up...I've seen you beauty, and you belong to me now...You belong to me and all Paris belongs to me and I belong to this notebook and this pencil. Then I went back to writing and I entered far into the story and was lost in it.
I closed up the story in the notebook and put it in my inside pocket and I asked the waiter for a dozen portugaises and a half-carafe of the dry white wine they had there. After writing a story I was always empty and both sad and happy, as though I had made love...
- Ernest Hemingway writing of his time in Paris in the 1920s in A Moveable Feast
And for 'ol Gringo there it was. With a little lead in for color, Hemingway had defined for me a big part of my sexuality.
Now I know I'm not breaking new ground here...but if I may, I'd like to speak only for myself.
Sex, fucking, making love, in all its wondrous, naughty, loving ways is very much about the build and the release. The build can start in the mind and work and churn itself for days, leading further to that initial contact with your lover, further still into the myriad of ways to pleasure your lover, pleasure yourself, building always, the chemicals in your body raging, testosterone, endorphins, all building, for days perhaps, certainly hours.
I've not the language to describe fully the state of this build and how it feels to be in it. The blessed release, the orgasm further defies my own grasp of language, so I won't even bother here.
But what has been elusive for me is the mixed feelings. For those hours that I am building, the state that my body finds itself in, luxuriates in, is upon that release, gone...lost. It's not a painful crash of course, that's what the orgasm is for, but nonetheless it's that very blend of ecstasy and loss that quite simply, for me, I found definition of in a sixty year old book.
So 'ol Gringo likes to luxuriate! Ok that sounds a little creepy, but you get me. That state prior to the release, there is no better place to hang out. If they served tequila there I'd sit at its bar all the time...happy hour every hour. So when I get there, get the chance to be there, I wanna stay there. Thankfully I'm not too old for making return visits but there is nothing like getting to that place and then hanging around for a while. So how does 'ol Gringo manage that? Allow me a further indulgence:
If my reader hasn't had the time, there is an exceptionally good writer who shares of her adventures and misadventures with the rest of the lucky us on her blog. www.arousaloftheminx.com Fair warning dear reader, she will captivate you and you will spend loads of time at her sight, never mind the hot HNT pics she's so generous with.
I credit her with the clarity she inadvertently have me by using the word...edging.
I'd never heard of it, lord knows there is plenty I have never heard of, but as soon as I read the word, I knew exactly what she was talking about. Edging is the very notion I'm attempting so that I can hang on to that build, pushing back Hemingway's sadness. For me its the word I can use to best describe my attempt at that balance!
Mr. Hemingway, meet Little Minx...Little Minx, Ernest Hemingway circa 1921.
Whew!! If you've sat here at My Floridita this far into the post, you certainly deserve a reward! Or your computer has frozen and you are stuck with me. Either way, thanks for the time, I've got another post coming soon that I'll get to work on. So in the mean time, do some cooking, do so loving, and ladies, feel free to send in some nekkid pics!
And trust me, the chocolate cake is worth the wait fellow patron, and as for the ropes and restraints, well I've always been a good sailor...
Veins open...let the juice flow
Ol' Gringo is back for the reunion tour! Seems I retired there for a spell but if my Texas brother Roger Clemens can juice up and make a come back, then I guess I can start tap'in a vein and do the same.
So now that I'm back, let me take a moment to redefine a few things. Now hold on now my precious one's of readers, don't worry none, I've got plenty of recipes and plenty of escapades to wax about. But I'd like to begin also going on about a few other shiny things that tend to distract my attention. And in the post to follow minutes later, you'll see what I'm ramblin about.
But while the subject of change is on our taste buds, I've been thinking. For the ones of you that have read this blog, you'll note that the recipes are shared in detail, but the escapades...well there more seen thru one of those softly filtered lenses with fuzzy focus. Any thoughts from the gallery on whether that works, or would a little sharpening of the focus be in order? Am a southern gentleman despite my tendencies and proclivities, and naturally filter my sailor's mouth around the more genteel of sexes, but if the public needs clarity, well who am I to deny?
So now that I'm back, let me take a moment to redefine a few things. Now hold on now my precious one's of readers, don't worry none, I've got plenty of recipes and plenty of escapades to wax about. But I'd like to begin also going on about a few other shiny things that tend to distract my attention. And in the post to follow minutes later, you'll see what I'm ramblin about.
But while the subject of change is on our taste buds, I've been thinking. For the ones of you that have read this blog, you'll note that the recipes are shared in detail, but the escapades...well there more seen thru one of those softly filtered lenses with fuzzy focus. Any thoughts from the gallery on whether that works, or would a little sharpening of the focus be in order? Am a southern gentleman despite my tendencies and proclivities, and naturally filter my sailor's mouth around the more genteel of sexes, but if the public needs clarity, well who am I to deny?
Thursday, February 19, 2009
well wishes over due
Let's see, when last we spoke, a worn down Texan was in the white house, mortgage companies were giving away zero down $500,000 loans to anyone with a pulse, Merrill Lynch was managing my money, Chrylser was manufacturing automobiles, unemployment was steady, money was flowing.
It's good to be back, did I miss anything?
Time to start anew, recipes are figured, experiences had, time to share and indulge.
But first..I'd be remiss to not wish you all:
Happy Halloween
Happy Thanksgiving
Merry Christmas
Happy New Year
and
Happy Valentine's Day!
Now that ya'll are glowing from all of my well wishing...let's continue shall we?
It's good to be back, did I miss anything?
Time to start anew, recipes are figured, experiences had, time to share and indulge.
But first..I'd be remiss to not wish you all:
Happy Halloween
Happy Thanksgiving
Merry Christmas
Happy New Year
and
Happy Valentine's Day!
Now that ya'll are glowing from all of my well wishing...let's continue shall we?
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