Get Good

Good body,
Good looks,
Good money.

Good wife,
Good husband,
Good time.

Good work,
Good sex,
Good purpose.

Good car,
Good house,
Good politics.

Good person,
Good thoughts,
Good leadership.

Good friendship,
Good offspring,
Good memories.

Good style,
Good game,
Good mind.

Good movies,
Good music,
Good art.

Good struggle,
Good change,
Good reality.

Good money,
Good bank,
Good interest.

Good weather,
Good book,
Good day.

Good hugs,
Good kisses,
Good love.

Good food,
Good drinks,
Good times were had.

It's good. 

Stand-In: Part 2

A Stand-In.

Again.

Time is no longer valuable. 

I chose to live in Los Angeles.


Residing in Los Angeles is dealing with long lines. 

They say trendy.

That it's cool to queue up to see live events, eat food, or buy subpar clothing. 

We wait in line in our vehicles on the freeway.

We wait in line at the grocery stores and retailers. 

 

Some live in extremely cramped quarters.

Sometimes 3 people to one room, sometimes four.


The owners of the city are so dumb.

All they care about is stuffing as many people in like cockroaches.

The lousy scum that they are.


We live in cramped quarters.

Sometimes 3 people to a room.

It's prison that you get taxed on.

Some would say so.


Bread lines are synonymous with The Great Depression and Mother Russia.

It's happened here.

At a grocery store.

Is standing in line for long periods a real trend?

No, I don't think so.

 

I don't want to stand in line to pay.

I don't want to queue up online for tickets.

 

Fix it. 

It's You, Again and Again

I pushed myself,
Away from you.

This trouble - it's mine.
Too many times I've gone on my own.
And it's not the way to be united again.


I've tried to realize,
It's my heart that I can't control.
I'm not a machine.
I have to remind myself.

I'm hanging around,
The end of my rope.


Do I have the
Will?
Do I have the
Power?

I do.


I know,
I remember.
It's my heart I must control.

In public. 

 
I lied,
Yes, I know.

I know.
I won't give into you again.


I pulled myself towards you,
In from the past.
You struck my chord,
So I pulled my own strings.

And I let go.
I'm so sorry.

I lied.


And it's no more,
With you I'm alive.
Because I don't have control,
Of who I give myself to.


It's you,
Again and again.

Because of Pornography

Diverse shades of Caucasian women is diversity on screens.

The real life women all deny enjoying watching people fucking. 

Of course, they all want to lick a guy's butthole now.

New era video taught them that.

 

Sex used to be such a regular thing.

Normal? Rarely.

At least 100 people are needed for record breaking pursuits.

Only a crazy person wants missionary.

The sets used to have production value.

Now, it's just a wrinkled sheet hiding the actor's personal belongings. 

Without tube sites many would have no interaction with women.

Only a fan for a small subscription.

Real relationship is for the last generation. 

Dining out and a movie with only a chance at a blowjob.

No thanks.

 

For monthly payments, a woman will pretend to remember you and your name. 

Broke folk can settle for an HD video.

Two people pretending to like each other for twenty minutes.

That's what gets them off.

 

Women over the age of 18 started as girls next door.

In their 20s they get cheap boobjobs.

Now, they can't be manhandled anymore.

But they are nice to look at from a distance.

Once the surgery scars become small enough. 

 

Then in their 30s these women became sluts.

In their mid 30s and early 40s they become MILFS.

Sometimes, they become step-mothers.

No method acting required.

 

Men are now sissies on camera. 

The trending searches show it. 

If only they'd shut the fuck up while the woman phony moans. 

 

Sex is a great strange thing. 

That you do alone or with others.

Because of pornography.