June 17, 2007: Jalen, asking how old various people are and finding out that Grandma is 66. “It doesn’t matter how old you are; it matters how you live.”
May 17, 2007: Jalen, while tucking him into bed, handed me Big Doggy and said, “Daddy, you sleep with Big Doggy tonight so you can remember being a kid again.”
May 1, 2007: Jalen: “I want to climb inside your body and give your heart a HUGE hug.”
10. Hitting a home run.
9. He swings both ways.
8. Hurling the spitter.
7. Throwin’ heat.
6. He’s got two balls on him.
5. Slidin’ in.
4. Spankin’ the ball.
3. The mound.
2. Choking up on the stick.
1. Deep in the hole.
Circa 1988, early Spring. Jon Scopp and I created this list in San Diego, probably drunk, chomping at the bit for the baseball season to begin. I figured it was long past time to post it for posterity and share it with the flock.
Note: This posting may be extremely objectionable to some. You have been warned.
I use spam filters. How can you not? At this point in time, where email communication frequency has reached an unprecedented peak, if I stopped using spam filters, half of my day would be spent following up with my Nigerian friends who, apparently, can’t seem to get piles of cash out of the country without my help. I can just picture the scene: scores of Nigerian businessmen, spending hour after torturous hour at their computers, desperately waiting for Scott Milrad to reply, hoping that maybe today will be the day when this modern day Abraham Lincoln will finally free them from the financial shackles of an apparently oppressive banking system. And yet, day after day, I leave them lonely and ironically poverty-stricken, with untold millions just a PIN code away, because I selfishly and untrustingly use spam filters.
And yet, you say to yourself, “but Scott, all this talk of world finance is fascinating…but we were promised porn. Where’s the porn? We came for the porn!”
Fair enough. I could go on and on about Nigerian politics, cheap Viagra, and Dubai banks in desperate need of my updated banking information, but I know my audience, so let’s move things along:
I’ve become increasingly fascinated with the ever-growing battle between my spam filter and those pussy-peddling pariahs who remain fascinatingly dedicated to busting the spam filter barrier. My bulk folder has become a sort of daily who’s who of pornographic one-upsmanship. I submit to you actual email headers, automatically and permanently banished to my SPAM folder:
Let’s start simple…
She loves a bat and then your fist.
Simple, to the point, and yet a nice, subtle hint of misogyny thrown in there. Not a lot, but enough to lure the right group of people. You definitely know what you’re going to get with this one. I’m thinking bats and fists…and plenty of ‘em. Spaulding might want to get in early on this one. After all, baseball season is rapidly approaching.
What about this instant classic…
Have you ever seen refined girls get fuucked in every holes?
See, right here we have a believability issue. Generally speaking, refined girls relegate themselves to a single hole, two at the most. But every hole (or in this case holes) causes me to question the legitimacy of the offer. I have a sneaky suspicion we should stay away from this site because we’ll most likely end up with bats and fists instead of actual refined hole-fucking.
Moving on to the more elaborate offerings…
Have you ever seen aesthetical girls get fuucked in every holes? Youngest girls dishly in hard fucking. As in your dream.
Okay, I get the translation problem with part of this one. I can definitely see how someone can easily misuse the word aesthetic and morph it into aesthetical. But I am truly stumped on the dishly comment. I feel they were forcing a mad libs-type adverb on us. After the aesthetical girls phrase, following up with a simple youngest girls in hard fucking would have been perfectly acceptable, and certainly appreciated.
Here’s a keeper…
Sweet hottie girl milking a loaded cock. How about your good self?
I like this. It’s short, sweet, to the point, and there is a surprising soft-sell twist at the end. Everybody knows what they’re getting when they click on this one. I’m thinking, “yes, my good self would like to see a sweet hottie milking a loaded cock.” Because that’s just what you’re going to see, cock-milking. No bats here.
Yet others choose to be a bit more demure…
Admirable schoolgirls doing delightful blowjob.
Okay, I gotta hand it to them on part of this one–schoolgirls who give delightful blowjobs are most certainly admirable. The delightful blowjob is a lost art. And yet…maybe it’s just me, but I like my blowjobs a tad nastier than delightful. And I think most guys would agree. In fact, nobody comes away from a satisfying blowjob with a response of, “honey, that was one delightful blowjob.” In fact, anyone who feels delightful about their recent blowjob is probably not going to use the term “blowjob” at all. More likely, they would come away saying, “honey, that was one delightful oral stimulation of my penis.” In fact, show me a man who enjoys a delightful blowjob and I’ll show you a guy who needs a good cock-milking.
I’m not sure where this next one fits, but it couldn’t go unmentioned…
Would you like to be the father of the whole kindgergarten? Try Spermaxx.
I’m not even sure I’m totally clear on this offer, but it’s certainly food for thought.
And finally…
Do you like splendiferous Young schoolgirls doing refined blowjoob?
These have got to be part of the same “admirable schoolgirls” sect, don’t you think? I think somebody dusted off the thesaurus on this one. But then I started to think about it. Maybe these girls really are splendiferous. Maybe I was just understimating the whole blowjobbing schoolgirl subset. And maybe I’m not giving the word splendiferous enough weight. So I looked it up: splendiferous: extraordinarily or showily impressive.
So heck, who am I to judge? God bless the poor admirable schoolgirls with their splendiferous blowjobs, the sweet cock-milking hotties, the daring bat-fisters, the refined delightful blowjobbers, and to the Spermaxx-stricken fathers of entire Kindergarten classes…I think I’ll miss you most of all. Haven’t we all learned a little something here today about pre-judging people…and about that which we call spam. I know I have.
Blogging. Feh. But hey, if Barbra Streisand can do it, why can’t I? (isn’t that the tagline for Yentl)? With little fanfare and and abundance of ballyhoo, I submit to you…my blog. And where best to begin than at the beginning. Therefore, this one time, I will choose not to bore you with spillage of grey matter. Instead, I bring this whole writing thing full circle, and extend to you this meager offering: my first ever writing sample, circa 1974, as told with original grammar, spelling, and punctuation:
The Just Born Story
Once ther was a little boy born and he was very lonely because ther was nothing els but air. Then he said I am going to make something. First I am going do something that will be colled houses. Then he said I will make something that will be colled people. Then he made things like parks and things. And grass and colors and back yards. And pictures. And picture frames. Then he had evrything and he wasn’t lonely anymore but he needed more things. So he made up things like fences and fireplaces and lamps clay and chairs and things like that. But he thought that he needed more things like for the kids so he said to himself the things for the kids will be colled swings. But now that he had everything ther wasn’t enything left bucause evrything just vanisht into thin air. Ther was just that boy ther. After all theas years, befor he was one now he was sixteen. So he and the air lived lonely ever after.
the end