Very good day, beautiful people. And others, well, good day. I know I always do in order to write well often and ended up being a foul and false liar. Buuut, believe me, I'm stuck in some creative and business processes that have crucified me most of the day. However, that does not mean that I give the chinguero wait to come and share with you. Right now, two cartons of these past weeks:
As I walked editing materials because I'm already burned to try their luck again on the web, but there tell God, I what do I get better. I dare to leave them a story to me personally, I was surprised by his harshness. Entertain, read and understand, do not close your head and see that it is a masterpiece of cringe.
is long, but nothing tedious. Go ahead and read!
Guts - Chuck Palahnuik Take
air.
Take as much air as possible. This story should last as long as you can hold your breath, and then some more. So listen as fast as possible.
When I was thirteen, a friend of mine heard about "pegging." This is when a guy gets a dildo up his ass. Stimulate the prostate gland hard enough, the rumor is you can have explosive hands-free orgasms. At that age, this friend is a little sex maniac. Is always looking for better ways to masturbate. It's going to buy a carrot and a little jelly to conduct a little private research. Then imagine how it is to see the situation in the supermarket, the lonely carrot and jelly rolling down the rubber band. All employees in line, watching. Everyone seeing the big evening he has planned.
So my friend buys milk and eggs and sugar and a carrot, all the ingredients for a carrot cake. And Vaseline.
As if you were going home to stick a carrot cake up his ass.
At home, he whittles the carrot into a blunt tool. The smeared with grease and grinds his ass. Then, nothing. No orgasm. Nothing happens except it hurts.
Then the boy's mother screams it dinner. He says to come down immediately. The
the carrot out and stashes the slippery, filthy thing in the dirty clothes under his bed.
After dinner, he goes to find the carrot, but is no longer there. While having dinner, his mom grabbed dirty clothes for washing. No way could she find the carrot, carefully shaped with a knife from his kitchen, still shiny with lube and stinky.
My friend waits months under a black cloud, waiting for his folks to confront him. And they never do. Never. Even now, grown up, that invisible carrot hangs over every Christmas dinner, every birthday party. Every Easter egg hunt with their children, the grandchildren of his parents, that ghost carrot is hovering over them. That something too awful to be named.
The French have a phrase: "staircase wit." In French, esprit de l'escalier. It refers to that moment when you find the answer, but it is too late. Say you're at a party and someone insults. Under pressure, with everybody watching, you say something stupid. But when you leave the party, when down the stairs, then, magic. You would think the perfect thing you should have said. The perfect replica humiliating. That is the spirit of the staircase.
The problem is that the French have a phrase for the stupid things you actually do say under pressure. Those things stupid and desperate that you actually think or do.
meanness Some have no name. Too low to even be talking.
Looking back, many psych experts, school counselors now say that the last peak in teen suicide was kids trying to choke while they beat off. Their parents were, a towel around his neck, tied to the closet of the room, the boy died. Sperm everywhere. Of course, the parents cleaned up. They put some pants on their kid. They made it look ... better. Intentional at least. A typical and sad teen suicide.
Another friend of mine, a boy from school with his older brother in the Navy said how guys in the Middle East jack off different than we do. His brother was stationed in some camel country where the public market sells what could be fancy letter openers. Each tool is a thin rod of polished brass or silver, maybe as long as your hand, with a great point, sometimes a big metal ball or the kind of fancy carved handle you can find a sword. This Navy brother says how Arab guys are spliced \u200b\u200band then insert this metal rod inside the whole length of his erection. And masturbate with the rod inside, and that makes getting off so much better. More intense.
is the kind of big brother who travels the world, sending back French phrases Russians, useful tips to masturbate. After that, one day the younger brother misses school. That night I called to ask me to take the duties of the coming weeks. Because it is in the hospital.
got to share a room with old people getting their guts. He says that everyone must share the same television. Your privacy is a curtain. His parents did not visit it. By phone, says her parents now could just kill his big brother in the Navy. Also
said that the previous day was a little stoned. At home in his room, lying on the bed with a candle and flipping through porn magazines, ready to masturbate. All this after hearing the story of the brother in the Navy. That helpful hint about how Arabs beat off. The kid looks around for something that could help. A pen is too big. A pencil, too big and hard. But when the tip of the candle is dripping, you get a thin, smooth ridge of wax. He rolls it smooth between the palms of your hands. Long and smooth and thin.
Stoned and horny, he slips inside, deeper and deeper into the urethra. With a large the wax still poking, goes to work.
Even now, says that the Arabs are very clever. That completely reinvented masturbation. Lying in bed, things are getting so good that the kid can not keep the track of the wax. You are about to do when the wax is not sticking out of his erection.
The thin wax rod, it has been inside. Completely. So deep that you can not feel his presence in the urethra.
From downstairs, his mom shouts it's time for dinner. She says to come down immediately. The boy in the wax and the carrot kid are different people, but they have very similar lives.
After dinner, the boy start to hurt the gut. It's wax so he figured it would just melt inside him and pee. Now his back hurts. Kidneys. Can not stand straight.
This kid talking on the phone from his hospital bed, and the background you can hear bells ding, people screaming. Game shows on television.
X-rays show the truth, something long and thin, bent double inside his bladder. This long, thin V inside him, is collecting all the minerals in your urine. It's getting bigger and more rough, coated with crystals of calcium, bumping around, ripping up the soft lining de su vejiga, obturando la salida de su orina. Sus riñones están trabados. Lo poco que gotea de su pene está rojo de sangre.
El chico y sus padres, toda la familia mirando las radiografías con el médico y las enfermeras parados allí, la gran V de cera brillando para que todos la vean: tiene que decir la verdad. La forma en que se masturban los árabes. Lo que le escribió su hermano en la Marina. En el teléfono, ahora, se pone a llorar.
Pagaron la operación de vejiga con el dinero ahorrado para la universidad. Un error estúpido, y ahora jamás será abogado. Meterse cosas adentro. Meterse dentro de cosas. Una vela en la polla o la cabeza en una noose, we knew to be big trouble.
What I got in trouble I called it Pearl Diving. This meant whacking off underwater, sitting on the bottom of the deep pool of my parents. Deep breath, I was a kick to the bottom and slip off my shorts. I'd sit there for two, three, four minutes.
masturbate Just had a huge lung capacity. If I had the house to myself, I would have done all afternoon.
When finally pump, sperm hung over me in big, fat, milky gobs.
After that was more diving, to collect it and wipe each handful in a towel. So it was called Pearl Diving. " Even with chlorine, I worried about my sister. O - For God's sake - my mother.
That used to be my biggest fear in the world: my teenage virgin sister, think he was fatter and give birth to a retarded baby with two heads. The two heads I would look at me. To me, the father and uncle. But ultimately, what worries you is never what gets you.
The best part of Pearl Diving was the inlet to the pool filter and circulation pump. The best part was getting naked and sit there.
As the French say, who does not like it suck ass? However, in a minute goes from being a boy masturbating a guy that will never be a lawyer.
One minute I'm settling on the bottom of the pool, and the sky is wavy, light blue, through five feet of water on my head. The world is silent except for the heartbeat in my ears. Yellow shorts are around my neck for safe keeping, in case a friend, neighbor or anyone wondering why I skipped football practice. The steady suction pipe of the pool, and I'm shaking my skinny white ass around on that feeling. I have enough air, and the cock in her hand. My parents went to work and my sister's got ballet. It means no one is home for hours.
My hand brings me right to getting off, and unemployment. Swim to the surface for air. Go back down and sit in the background. I do this again and again.
must be why girls want to sit on your face. The suction is like taking a dump that never stops. With hard cock while I suck ass, do not need air. The heart beats in my ears, I stay under until bright stars of light start worming around in my eyes. My legs straight, the back of each knee rubbed raw cement bottom. The toes are turning blue, my toes and fingers wrinkled from being so long in the water.
And then I let it happen. The large white balloons are released. The pearls. Then I need air. But when I go to kick off, I can not. I can not draw feet. My ass is stuck.
The emergency room nurses say that each year about 150 people get stuck this way, sucked by a circulation pump. Trapped long hair, or your ass, and drowns. Each year, many people do. Most in Florida.
do not talk about. Not even French people talk about EVERYTHING.
one knee up and one foot under me, I get to half standing when I feel the tug on my ass. With his foot kicking the bottom. I am releasing but not touching the ground nor reach the air. Still kicking water, waving his arms, I'm halfway to the surface but not going higher. The throbbing in my head are loud and fast.
bright sparks of light across my eyes I turn to look ... but no sense. This thick rope, a species of snake, blue white and braided with veins, out of the drain and it grabbed my ass. Some of the veins are leaking blood, red blood that looks black underwater and drifts away from little rips in the pale skin of the snake. The blood trails away, disappearing into the water and under the thin skin of the snake whitish blue you can see remains of a half-digested food.
That's the only way that makes sense. Some horrible sea monster, a sea serpent, something that never saw the light of day, has been hiding in the dark bottom of the pool drain, waiting to eat me.
So the kick, I kick her skin slippery and rubbery and full of veins, but more and more out of the drain. Now maybe as long as my leg but I still retain my ass. With another kick, I'm an inch closer to getting air. Still feeling the snake tug at my ass, I'm an inch away.
inside the snake, you can see corn and peanuts. You can see a bright orange ball. For horses is vitamin my Dad makes me take to gain weight. To get a football scholarship. With extra iron and omega three fatty acids. View this pill saves my life.
not a snake. It's my large intestine, my colon pulled out of my body. What doctors call prolapsed. My guts sucked into the drain.
Experts say that a pump 360 liters long pool of water per minute. That's about 200 kilos of pressure. The big problem is that inside we are interconnected. Your ass is just the end of your mouth. If I let go, the pump stopped working, unraveling my insides up to my mouth. Imagine taking a 200 kilos of shit and you can see how it can tear you apart.
What I can say is your guts do not feel much pain. Not in the same way that hurts the skin. The doctors call it fecal matter you're digesting. Higher up is chyme, pockets of a thin runny dirt studded with corn, peanuts and peas.
That's the soup of blood and corn, shit and sperm and peanuts floating around me. Even with my guts out of ass, me holding onto what's left, even then my first was back on my shorts. God forbid my folks see my dick.
One of my hand holding a fist around my ass, the other starts the short yellow neck. But them is impossible.
If you want to feel your intestines, go buy one of those goat-skin condoms. Get out and unroll one. Pack it with peanut butter, cover it with petroleum jelly and hold it under water. Then try to tear. Try to open it in two. It is too tough and rubbery. It's so slippery you can not sustain. A goat-skin condom, that's just plain old intestine.
can see what I'm fighting against.
If I let you go for a second, I was gutted.
You swim for the surface, for a breath, you're gutted.
If not swim, I drown.
is a choice between being dead right now or a minute. What my folks will find after work is a big naked fetus, curled in on itself. Floating in the cloudy water of their backyard pool. Bottom by a thick rope of veins and twisted guts. The opposite of a teenager who hanged himself while masturbating. This is the baby they brought home from the hospital thirteen years ago. This is the kid they wanted a football scholarship and a college degree. Who'd care if they were old. Here is the man who embodied their hopes and dreams. Floating, naked and dead. All around him, big milky pearls of wasted sperm.
that or my folks will find me wrapped in a bloody towel, collapsed halfway between the pool and your kitchen, ripped my guts still hanging out the leg of my yellow shorts. Something that neither speak French.
That big brother in the Navy taught us one other good phrase. Russian. When we say: "I need that like I need a hole in the head" [*], the Russians say: "I need that like I need teeth in the ass." Mne eto kak Zuby v zadnitse swim. Those stories about how animals caught in a trap will chew their own leg, any coyote would tell you a couple of bites are much better than dying.
Hell ... even if you're Russian, someday you might want those teeth. Otherwise, you have to do is twist around. You hook one elbow behind your knee and pull that leg up face. Bite your own ass. You run out of air and chew through anything to get that next breath.
is not something you want to tell a girl on the first date. Not if you want to kiss her before going to sleep. If I tell you how it tasted, never ever again eat calamari.
is difficult to say which were more disgusted by my parents: how I got in trouble or how I escaped. After the hospital, my mother said, "You did not know what you did, love. Were in shock. " He learned to cook poached eggs.
All those people grossed out or I feel sorry ... I need like I need teeth in the ass.
Today, people tell me I'm too thin. At dinner, people stay silent or angry when they do not eat the pot roast they cooked. Roast kills me. Cooked ham. All that remains in my heart for more than a couple of hours out still food. White beans, tinned tuna, I wake up and find it there in the toilet.
After suffering a dissection of the intestines, do not digest meat very well. Most people have five feet of large intestine. I have the luck to have my six inches. So I never got an athletic scholarship or a title. My two friends, the wax kid and the carrot, grew up, got big guys, but I never got to weigh a kilo more than he weighed when he was thirteen. Another big problem is that my parents paid a lot of money for that swimming pool. In the end my father told the pool guy it was a dog. The family dog \u200b\u200bfell overboard and drowned. The dead body got pulled into the pump. Even when the guy came to fix the pool filter opened and pulled out a rubbery tube, a watery bowel rest with a big orange vitamin pill still inside, my father just said, "That damn dog was crazy." From the window My room on the first floor could hear my dad say, "could not be trusted for a second that dog ...."
Then my sister had a delayed menstrual period.
changed the pool water, even after selling the house and we moved to another state, even after my sister's abortion, even then my parents went back to state.
That is our invisible carrot.
you, take air now.
I still did not.
[*] Anglo-Saxon expression used to imply that there is no need for some thing for nothing.
already with that, we read later. Good start to the week.
