I’ve Collected Porn Since I Was 10 Years Old

I remember first coming across porn in the form of some Playboy magazines I think in the 3rd or 4th grade. When I was around 10 my friends and I would shoplift Playboy magazines and take them out to the woods to look through them. We kept them hidden out there. I would return to look at them all the time.

I think by 15 or 16 I had a pretty good collection of adult magazines stashed under my bed and in my closet. I think by 17 or 18 I had several hundred stored in duffel bags under my bed and in my closet. Pretty much every family member stumbled across them at some point. My mom was cool, basically she said “Whatever, just make sure your brother doesn’t find them” He probably did as well but I didn’t know about it. Any other family member who stumbled across it just acted like they weren’t there.

When I turned 18 I was able to rent pornographic movies. I would sometimes buy them but they were pretty expensive when you had a part time job and college. Those were the days of VHS. I saved up and bought a 2nd VCR. I would then rent porn movies from the local video stores, and copy them for my personal collection. I started to get really efficient with it by just copying the “good” parts for my personal collection. So I was able to fit several movies on each video tape. I would buy the 8 hour tapes and use the lowest quality setting to get the most porn onto the tapes. I was able to accumulate about 30 – 50 file boxes stacked 3 deep with 8 hour VHS tapes of porn. I really like facial cumshots so I would record and rewind those so it would play 3-5 times in a row. I also took advantage of many of the video stores going out of business and selling their movies for cheap. I think all told I had several hundred 8 hours VHS tapes, several hundred high quality VHS adult movies, and maybe 100-200 adult DVDs.

Coinciding with the middle to late period of my VHS and DVD movie collection I also started collecting internet porn. I came on board to that in the late 90’s starting with dial up modems, CompuServe and AOL. I remember waiting 10 minutes or so for pornographic pictures to come up on my screen. It would take forever for pictures, and especially movies, to download. Sometimes your modem connection would drop and you would have to start the download all over again after you reconnected. Internet porn really began to get good with DSL modems. I remember how wonderful it was to just click on a thumbnail and a large picture pop up on the screen in all its erotic glory. I’ve collected thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands pornographic pictures and movies. I store them in external hard drives. I recently upgraded to a NAS and have about 4 TB of porn copied onto it and counting. I am estimating about 6 – 8 TBs of porn total. If I watched all the movies I had back to back it would take me years to watch them all. But I love the feeling of owning and possessing the porn. I am a collector.

I usually rotate through several monthly memberships to the porn sites I like. I then download the videos to my various external drives for later consumption. I love porn. It’s been a part of my life for over 30 years.

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I Smoke Marijuana Pretty Much Every Day

I started smoking in high school around 17 years old. My friends and I would cut class and go behind the public library next to smoke bowls. I smoked pretty much all the time from 17 until I was 21. I quit because I had become depressed and I found the weed made it worse.I returned to it in my early 30’s after I had settled into a much more mentally demanding job (technology). Weed really took my mind off the mentally demanding and stressful nature of that job. It was amazing how quickly my stress would evaporate between puffs on the bowl as I stared into the distance and forgot what I was just thinking about.

Once in a while, there were the few times I would be “on call” and be completely high and then a call would come in. There’s nothing like trying to figure out what is going on with a server while all you can think about and notice is how soothing the blue and silver Windows color scheme is. I would struggle to type in passwords sometimes.

But mostly, I enjoy it. I enjoy how pleasurable it makes the small things in life. Driving, cooking, cleaning all become exciting adventures. It’s as if this is the first time I am vacuuming the rug. I strategize how I’m going to clean the rug. I decide on a series of criss cross patterns that ensures I am getting the same areas of the rug multiple times from different angles. Once done, I admire how clean the rug is and how crisp and striking the lines are from the vacuum. If I was sober doing this I would probably hurry through the task, thinking about all the other things I need to get done, perhaps feeling anxious and hurried.

Of course, it goes without saying I enjoy it for the stereotypical things all marijuana smokers supposedly do. Movies, music, sex all are enhanced while I am high.

I can over do it. I usually don’t smoke until the evening but there are days when I start early and then I am pretty much done for the day. Perhaps taking a nap that afternoon or falling asleep in front of the TV at 7pm. Not good. I’m in my 40’s not my 80’s.

But mostly I do it at night a few hours before I am going to sleep. It’s a great way to relax and stop thinking about work or life for a few hours before I go to sleep. I don’t drink alcohol. I find marijuana so much better.

It’s disappointing that the US government still sees it as a Schedule 1 drug and outlaws it completely. When I am done with my career, if marijuana is still not at least available medically or recreationally I intend to get involved with changing that. I wouldn’t risk it now and potentially damage my reputation at work or risk some sort of LEO attention because of my political beliefs. It’s unfortunate to feel that way when you live in the United States, but there are many hypocrisies and contradictions about American life that don’t need to be detailed here.

Suffice to say, I feel it should be at least decriminalized. There is no sane reason why anyone in the US should be arrested and incarcerated for small time possession and recreational use of marijuana. It is such a disgrace that the US continues to employ draconian measures against legitimate medical users, dispensarys and recreational users of marijuana. At the very least, the “crime” doesn’t fit the punishment. I hope I will see this change in my lifetime.

It’s Coming Up On A Year Since I Had To Put Down My Dog

It’s Coming Up On A Year Since I Had To Put Down My Dog…

… and I really miss my “Big Guy.”

He was a big, beautiful German Sheppard and St. Bernard mix. He was huge, he weighed 90 lbs but was sweet, gentle and shy. He would come up to me and place his head in my lap so I could scratch the back of his head and neck. He had large, beautiful expressive ears that reflected his emotions. When he was curious, they strained forward, when happy they were way up on his head, when sad or scared well back on his head.

He was scared of thunderstorms and fireworks and would squeeze himself underneath where ever I was sitting so he could be close to me when he was frightened. I would take my shoes off and pet him with my feet to sooth him.

He would wake me up in the morning by “talking” to me. He would come over and nudge me awake. I would ask him how he was this morning and he would respond with a weird grunting/yawning sound, sort of like Chewbacca.

How you doing this morning Harley?
Arrrrrrrgggggmmmmmmmm
Really, you don’t say?
Errrmmmmmoooogggggghhhh
And then what happened?
Mmmmrrrgggghhhhhh
Oh Harley-Barley you so crazy!

About a year before I had to put him down, he started having problems walking. He would struggle to get up, and jump into the car. It got bad fast. Within a year, he could no longer go up or down the stairs without slipping and falling down the stairs. I had to carry him up and down the stairs. Then he would slip and fall and couldn’t get himself up. We had to pick him up constantly and get him upright. Then he lost control of his bowels. Finally, he couldn’t stand up anymore even when we would pick him up. He just couldn’t hold himself up anymore.

I never had to put one of my dogs down before. I was so stressed, sad and upset. The vet was kind and understanding. I held him until he took his last breath. I have his ashes in a box in my living room. We have pictures of him so I can think of him often.

I loved my Big Guy and miss him terribly. I will never forget him.

When I found the butterfly

When I found the butterfly…

I had a horrible day at work. It was my birthday and I had scheduled 1/2 day off. I was not allowed to take this time as there was an “emergency” at work and I was forced to stay. Even though I pretty much sat on my hands the whole time doing nothing.

It upset me so much, that I  came close to just quitting this job. I had gotten into a verbal yelling match with my supervisor and it escalated to the point where he told me if I left, I would be fired.

I truly considered it. I had been unhappy with this job for awhile and knew that I would be leaving it sooner or later. I didn’t do that. It would have been incredibly foolish to quit without having another job lined up. But I really really wanted to. I wanted to tell my supervisor to fuck off and stomp out of there. But I didn’t.

Finally, I was allowed to leave. I was drained and exhausted. My mind was filled with thoughts about leaving this stupid job. But it was a horrible economy(this was 2009, the start of the “great recession”) and I was nervous and uncertain. I felt like it would be foolish and a waste of time to try. Why bother? Everyone knew there were no jobs, and almost all companies were laying off. I felt trapped.

I unlocked my car and got in. I sat there, stewing about my situation. Something to the right of me caught my eye. I looked down and to the right and on my passenger side floor mat was a butterfly.

It was a beautiful monarch butterfly with wings of blue and gold. I blinked, it didn’t move. I leaned closer to look at it, it still didn’t move. I touched it. It didn’t move. It was dead. It was beautiful though.

I wondered how it got in my car. My doors were locked and my windows rolled up. I checked my passenger door. Sure enough, it was locked. I was pretty certain my driver side door was locked too as I recalled having to unlock it with my remote. I have no idea how the butterfly got there, or why it was sitting frozen on my passenger floor mat.

I am a rational person. I don’t believe in gods or ghosts, or spirits. However, I have noticed in life that we are sometimes given signs and portents. We must look hard for them, and usually they are subtle and ambiguous. I believe the butterfly was meant for me.

A butterfly is a symbol of change, of growth and transformation. It starts out as a green squirmy caterpillar. It cocoons itself in a chrysalis and emerges transformed into a beautiful, delicate, ephemeral butterfly. They are lovely creatures.

I believe the butterfly came to me that day as a sign. It was telling me to grow, to change, to cocoon myself and emerge transformed. To spread my wings and fly. The butterfly’s wings were blue and gold. My eyes are blue, flecked with gold. It’s a curious coincidence.

I searched and found another job. It took several months, but there was nothing sweeter than putting in my resignation. I left that job with no regrets and found something better. I am not going to say that my life or job is perfect now, but leaving that place was good for both my career, and more importantly, my psyche. I am thankful that the butterfly came to me that day.

I still have the butterfly. My wife was kind enough to mount it for me in a shadowbox. I have it on my desk. Sometimes I look at it, and allow it to remind me that I should spread my wings and fly, to take chances, to change and transform into the amazing creature I know I can be.

Thanks for reading…