Pestorking Palace Faces Foreclosure

With our economy in a shambles, you would think innovative home businesses would be encouraged. And by all accounts, the Dallas-area Cherry Pit has been a roaring success:

Police documents seized in a pair of July raids show that the weekend parties in the home were lucrative. Mr. Trulock and Ms. Norris had taken in at least $102,000 in donations from attendees during a 16-month period. The weekend parties drew hundreds of people, and parking overflowed into the street.

College kegger? Hardly. The Cherry Pit is a “swingers” club, a quaint throwback to the days when you could use that word without erupting in an orgasm of giggles. For fifty bucks you can cross the threshhold into a world of bad Seventies midnight movies, featuring a dance floor, profoundly well-stocked bar, and a six-way bed with what appear to be fresh sheets. Single gals welcome!

But rather than celebrating the owners’ entrepreneurial spunk, the city of Duncanville has turned a cold shower on the enterprise. A 2007 ordinance outlaws the bawdy bastion, and legal troubles have been piling up all fall. Now the home itself is facing foreclosure, and the owners are trying to raise money from investors.

We think it would be a grand opportunity for Dallas’s newest power couple to meet their neighbors. After all, the Cherry Pit is freeway close to Dubya’s new home.

Foreclosure looms for owners of Duncanville’s Cherry Pit swingers club [Dallas Morning News]

The Cherry Pit


Secret revealed: I almost got involved with some ex-Mormon swingers I met on the intertubes (damn you Yahoo chat rooms). I think they live in NM. I could come visit you RML if I ever decide to take them up on their offer. (The wife likes to watch.) I met a lot of ex-Mormons in open relationships. The pendulum swings, y’all.

Exactly how much liquor do you get for $50 and what type of liquor? This could pay for itself even if I didn’t pestork.

ADD: I just realized I posted 5 messages in a row. I kinda feel like a geek, so I’m going to go away for a while. xoxo.

@SanFranLefty: @Mistress Cynica: Don’t feel bad until you get the “You’re posting too much and too fast. Slow down!” message. Broke my heart.

@SanFranLefty: Don’t go away, Klassy with a K. You’re not a geek.

@JNOV: Swingers are fascinating to me as much as teh gays. No judgment, no desire, to do it, just, “whats with that?” I read a long serious story about it once, it might even havev been by david Foster wallace, but probably not, but the same kind of natural history-nature article, except the subject was an American subculture, that said that the thrill of it, for the swingers, was something related to some very deep instinctive genetic responses to reproductive competition. What the swingers who were interveiwed said was that the best part, after watching each other fuck others, was going home together and fucking, something about there is an instinctive deep response on the part of the male, knowing there is foreign semen in his woman, to splooge an extra huge load, like unleashing an extra huge army of his genes into the battle for succesful reproduction. And one thing the article said sounded true, the male orgasm is part and parcel, its all about, ejaculation, if the process of ejaculation lasts long, the orgasm lasts long, so the more you come, the better and longer you come.

Thats where solo didldling, I think, can actually be a bad thing, for dudes, there are long periods in adolescence and early adulthood when guys will masturbate a lot, more than once a day. But solo diddling, its something you tend to rush, guys, anyway, subconscious fear of mom walking in the room, I think, and the actual splooging, its a nuisance, a mess, so once ejaculation starts, its like, ughh, mess, yuck, stop now. I think it is possible to condition your sexual response, if you do too much furtive masturbation, with the ejaculation being a negative, it conditions the body to want to come quick and not much. Get it over with. Hide the evidence of your shame, return to normal as quickly as possible. Roommate-mom-someone might walk in, God might notice.

Since I have been on anti-depresants, I has quit solo diddling (takes too much effort). I do believe there has been a positive effect on the dual diddling. Unlearning some conditioned orgasm responses, I think.

Is this an overshare?

@Promnight: No, it’s not an overshare, even though I do overshare a lot, so maybe I’m not the best one to ask.

I’m on a new antidepressant that has made me practically anorgasmic. Boo-urns to that! I don’t know if it would be different if I were with a partner, but my Hitachi Magic Wand is just not magical recently.

And I agree with you that masturbation makes you come too fast. For me it’s not so much the shame of it, or maybe it is — I had a very squeaky bed, but I guess since the mechanics are different, the pressure and contact is more constant, I come too fast. Still satisfying but not quite the same as when you share it with someone.

As far as the swingers are concerned, more power to them, but I realized that I could not have sex with someone watching. I just can’t do it. I found the whole subculture interesting as hell, but I’d feel too self-conscious to get involved. Having sex in a room with your hopefully asleep roommate is one thing. Having an audience is a little different. Maybe.

Everything is fascinating to me. I am in my cups again, stinkers. Whats up with me? Well, my son has aspergers, he’s 8, and is and has been a very difficult boy, requiring much much patience, and he is also brilliant, making it even harder, and now, in the last month, he has hit something that I have been fearing. Up till now, at the younger ages, kids are tolerant of people who are different. My boy doesn’t speak the way they do,his speach is very formal and grown up, aspergers are often noted as sounding like miniature adults, and he is fascinated by and engulfs various random areas of knowledge, and then tends to go on about them, not at all aware that his fellow 7 year olds are not as interested in the types of volcanic eruptions or the attributes of the planets in the solar system. But still, up till now, they regarded him with fascination and some kind of pride, their strange, rare bird in their midst. Like a mascot, I have seen it his peers were fascinated by him.

But now, the last month, maybe since the beginning of this school year, he and his peers have reached that age where being different is bad and being the same is good, and he is getting teased, called freak and faggot, and with his aspergers, his responses are violent and inappropriate, and he exhibits physical signs of severe stress here at home, tics, violent rocking, hitting himself, he even talks about wanting to die, thats what I have been dealing with every day lately, trying to break through and communicate with him about whats bothering him, support him, he is ashamed and won’t talk about whats happening in his days, he clams up and gets very agitated if I try to gently raise the issue, are kids giving you a hard time, and its heartbreaking, he can’t accept the sympathy and support I have in such abundant supply, because I was the geek and faggot and tortured outcast myself at his age.

My wife and I, we cannot leave him alone, or with anyone else, ever, we can handle his difficult outbursts, but they shock and scare others. Pretty much since he was 3 we have not been able to have a social life, get away alone, except rare occasions. Its stressful for us. Like, a twenty-million poound weight, every day, all day, any minute, he might have an episode that thwarts all plans, going to the grocery store on the weekend is something that requires planning and presenting to him and working towards, using the techniques we learned in therapy. I could not love anything on earth more than this child, but he imprisons me.

Mrs. Prom and I went to Philadelphia months ago to meet JNOV and SFL, thats the last social outing we had, how long ago was that, guys?

I have you all, thats it. Me and Mrs. have each other for a scant few hours each week (he’s desperately jealous of us, he’s actually great alone with either of us, but when we are together, he will not allow us to have a conversation, ever). We’re both busy professionals, filled with guilt we don’t have more time for a family life (the three of us have never had dinner together, except Thanksgiving and Christmas, sometimes, if he’s not having a meltdown because of all the strange people in the house).

We have a vacation planned for week after next, the bahamas, for 7 days, and we are terrified, will he be okay, alone with my 85 year old mother, we tried and tried and tried to find someone who could come and stay for a few days, till his sister comes home from college halfway through the vacation, but we could not find anyone, we have found great sitters and caregivers for him, but you see, my 85 year old mother gets insanely jealous that we don’t trust him alone with her and drives them off, oh, thats a great dynamic I cannot even begin to go into. She loved the little baby she helped care for, and so encourages him to revert to infantilism the minute he is in her presence, oh its so hard, caring for her, and for him, each with their issues. They call it the sandwich generation, caring for your kids and your aging parents.

Thats why I see a shrink and take 3 different psycho drugs. It mostly keeps me calm and quiet, before I ever had a kid I was always a loud, profane, passionate person, but that disturbs a child sensitive to noise and sensitive to moods in others and set off when he senses tension or anger or stress in others. So I must be medicated to be appropriately calm all the time. It does not work. I got problems of my own, what with hating my commute and my job.

And I have had my own issues the last year and, well, damn.

So hey, whats up with youse guys?

Oh, Prom! Just keep on loving him — that’s all you can do. I can’t imagine how hard it is to try to comfort your son when he’s unreceptive because of sadness and shame. Hopefully that will change. He’s at a rough age. Jr. went through the teasing and the fear of being weird, and I reinforced that everyone is weird and everyone is afraid of having their weirdness found out. There is nothing worse than going through a painful experience or time in you life and feel like you are the only one who has ever felt that way.

I remember my first bout of clinical depression that led to my first hospitalization for suicidal ideation. I felt so alone, but in group therapy I realized that I was not alone, and I was pissed, I mean pissed that no one else ever talked about their black moods. I still would have been depressed, but it would have helped me cope had I known that I was not the only one on the Earth that ever felt as I did.

If your wee one will listen, keep telling him that he’s not alone, and he’s brilliant and loved. Even if he doesn’t seem to be listening, maybe some of it will sink in. I feel out of place offering you any advice not having any idea of what the challenges are to you and your family, but I do believe that what we say and do as parents does seep in.

And it’s been close to a year since we got together, I think. Maybe it was the spring?


Oh Honey. I weep for you and Mrs.Prom. I think that was in March or April where we had that fabulous brunch with JNOV. And nothing since then?

And I weep for Prom Jr. To go from being proud odd bird to freak of the class. I went through a similar metamorphose in 6th grade, but it centered around my parents’ failure to buy my Gloria Vanderbilt jeans and wearing clothes from a thrift shop that didn’t fit me.

Such a smart little boy too sensitive to the world. And oh, the rocking and tics. My heart aches. I wish I could fly him out to SF to visit his wacky Aunty SFL for a week of walking around the neighborhood petting dogs and smelling flowers, but you see we live in 400 sq ft of paradise and we don’t have room for a cat, let alone visitors. Our past visitors have peed out the window, so it’s not so good.

Self-medication for your child seems like such a noble thing to do Prommie. I would self-medicate to get to sleep, so you are on a much higher level than I am to self medicate for the good of your child.

Don’t put the pressure on your step-daughter who doesn’t deserve it, and give your mother a come to Jesus talk to not infantilize your son. And cross your fingers and go on vacation and try to enjoy yourselves.

I’ve been there too.

However, I don’t recommend the way I got out of it at that age. I literally had to fight my way out of it with the bullies I tangled with. This lead to my all too direct method of dealing with things when angry and also my strong reluctance to get into a fight, too.

It never is easy being different.

@Promnight: I’m late (as usual) to the party – too fucking serious I guess to gather my drinks and stay up late with y’all – but just want to say that I think our boys would get along well, Prom. Not to understate your challenges, but my boy, also 8, is immensely drawn to other kids his age and intellect, hugely curious and wielder of big boy vocabulary (hope he can spell better than his old man) and also a great big softie and very sympathetic. He cries sometimes at night because other kids in his class are having trouble with schoolwork that he finds easy, he’s a total empath when his little sis gets into trouble at home or school and he’s the one trying to smooth things over.

I want to get in on the next confab. You me and JNOV and our famblies, we’d have fun. My mom is 77 and she refuses to stay with her grandkids unless it is during the day or they are already asleep. She is just a “been there, done that” kind of grandma.

@Promnight: That breaks my heart. As I child who spent her first 5 years exclusively with adults, I never learned to relate to other children. I was a mini-adult, and school, from day one, was a misery to me. It was a very small private school – about 30 in my class – so I was very isolated. A few good teachers who were kind got me through until I could leave for college after 10th grade. My only solace was books, and my dog. My very social family did not understand either my lack of popularity or my depression, so your empathy and sacrifices for your son move me deeply. I hope you and Mrs Prom can have a relaxing vacation. FSM knows you deserve it. An we’re here for you whenever you need to rant. Hugs to you.

@Promnight: I know a kid with Asperger’s, the daughter of friends. I find her delightful to be with, but I’m a bit weird myself and so having an hour-long conversation about gargoyles (one of the topics she knows everything about) is OK with me. Her parents struggled with trying to mainstream her in school, and finally gave up and put her in a school for special needs kids where she is much happier.

@Mistress Cynica: I was also an oddball kid who lived in books, but because I liked sports I could relate to other boys on an athletic field even if I couldn’t stand to talk to them. The social thing came late to me, helped, I think, by copious amounts of cheap marijuana.

hi kids,
exciting day of bubblewrapping dishes.

@Dodgerblue: @Mistress Cynica:
me too. to this day my solace is books and dogs. we seem to all be on the same weird wavelength, why we take solace from each other now.
i was a very weird kid and a weird adult, never quite in step with the world and people around me. i never got the right kind of help, though they tried, they did. i was put on lithium at 12. JNOV and i had a long conversation wherein she diognosed me as bi-polar, which is what 4 out of 5 doctors also say. here’s what i think:
we are all obvs smarter and more sensitive than the average bear. i have a ridiculously high IQ for such a goof.
smart people have faulty brain wiring. there was an article i saved from the philly inquirer years ago about the social difficulties and diognostic dilemma’s and treatment of people like us. they called it the genius disease. there is no cure, there is only learning coping strategies and medication roulette.
being smart can be a double edged sword. research is ongoing. they have no clue how or why the smart are more likely to be mental cases, with overwhelming evidence of a connection. the stinquers understand each other. this is the only clique i’ve ever been a part of.

@baked: My older daughter went to college at Bryn Mawr, where there is an enclosed courtyard framed by pillars, each topped with a carved gargoyle head. I spend a fun afternoon there with my friend’s kid.

Oh shit, USC just scored again.

@baked: I always just knew that dumb people were happier. No lithium, but my own Valium script by age 11. My father’s family is all bi-polar, which results in many stories to dine out on. Have I told y’all the “Grand Theft Airplane” tale? Good times.

i know them very well, and have named them. all my personal gargoyles have names too. they are now in boxes with their names on the box.
did you read ‘the curious incident of the dog in the nightime”?
i can’t get that kid out of my head. i understand.

@Mistress Cynica:
the upside! a life of amusing anecdotes.
tell us about Grand Theft Airplane!

We have strong Bryn Mawr and Stanford connections here. And teh brilliant crazee connection as well.

@baked: I’m sure you’re fine. I think everyone is bipolar because I want people I love to be like me.

@Mistress Cynica: I don’t recall the “Grand Airplane Theft” tale, and I would love to hear it.

@Dodgerblue: NBC just had a touching piece about USC basically adopting a kid as their human mascot. Still hate ’em, though.

@baked: I read it about a month ago. I couldn’t put it down because I related so strongly to the kid. My wife thought I wouldn’t like it. Shows you how well she knows me after 30 years together.

see, that’s why we hang out. I KNEW you’d like it.
i read it more than a year ago and i still think about it.
i related that strongly.

@baked: I just posted some gargoyle pics from Bryn Mawr. There should be 5, plus a shot of the interior courtyard.

@JNOV: Pete Carroll has done some good things with at risk kids in the community around USC, i.e. the ghetto. And their law school is much more diverse than whitey-white UCLA is these days. But still — I long for the day when I can pee on Tommy Trojan.

how are you feeling these days love?
you seem optimistic, that makes me happy.

Amusing Anecdote from the chronicles of my life of Bad Decisions.
since i won the grand prize of getting rat back, i’ve been charged with communicating with the girlfriend, because she won’t stop calling and rat won’t talk to her. i feel so BAD for her. he used her and threw her away like a tissue he blew his nose in. she’s a nice person! he lied to her! he lied to me too, but a decade trumps a few months and we still have some gas in the tank of our thing, whatever it is. i tell her, why do you even WANT to talk to him? i have compassion for her, i told her she was lucky to escape what life is like with him. do you believe i’m talking to this woman and emailing? she’s someone i’d like to meet in jerusalem.
how carazee is that?

@baked: I’m optimistic about everyone except for me. I’m worried about job security, but that just makes me one of many. And I’ve been having anxiety issues. Once again, I think the med cocktail is not quite right. But I’m okay.

Wow about the communications with the Israeli woman. I understand the compassion you feel, but don’t get so involved that rat finds an opportunity or reason to go behind your back with this woman again. You didn’t create this situation, and like they say in Torts, “If you didn’t get them in the fix, there’s no duty to rescue.” God, that sounds cold, but I don’t trust them, and I don’t want your open and compassionate nature used against you by deceitful people.

@Dodgerblue: I’m sure Lefty would help you pee on Tommy. I’d volunteer, but my outdoor peeing excursions always end up with me peeing on my shoes.

@JNOV: One of many things that decreases with a man’s age is his ability to put out a forest fire from ten paces. I’d need to get pretty close to Tommy.

you are exactly right. i made a decision today i won’t speak to her again. i’m not protecting my interests or doing her any good anymore, but i don’t regret that i had the chance to say what he should have. he called her once to tell her it was over, he was reconciled with his wife. i was sitting next to him when he called. then he wrote her a kiss off letter that was as warm as a letter from a creditor. COLD. and he was done with her.
i hope i did something right, but i don’t know. everyone thinks i was nuts for talking to her, but i think i put more compassionate closure on it for all of us. but you are so right. any more communication will be detrimental to all of us.

@baked: Dear baked, I’ve been reading about your relationship for months now without commenting. These most recent posts pushed me right over the edge. You have got to snap out of this fog you’re living in. I don’t care how great the sex is or how much money he spends on you. This guy uses people. He will use you only until he finds someone else to use.

I have to disagree with JNOV. You did create this situation by putting yourself back into this guy’s life again. I can’t blame only him when you – and the other woman – both seem to be so anxious to be today’s Kleenex for him. The two of you could use a healthy dose of self-respect.

However that’s only my opinion and we all know what opinions are like.

@baked: I don’t think you were nuts — just kindhearted and sweet and very empathetic. Just be careful, sweet Baked.

@Dave H: Harsh much?

ADD: I missed your last sentence addition while I was writing my response. Still.

@Dave H:
yeah, no shit. my self respect was destroyed. how could i live with this man for 10 years and not see an iota of this kind of behavior?
was it dormant? and he really is an asshole? or we ran into a ditch as couples do, and we had the unusual circumstance of being 6 thousand miles away from each other for 7 months during a very bad patch we were in. i don’t know dave, you could be 100% correct. i always say if a person lies to me one time, i’ll never believe another word they say.
so i sure do hear you. did you see my posts on my (sincere) interest in falling in love with a hot israeli man?

There’s another fantasticc book, a memoir written by a man with apsergers, Augusten Buroughs’s brother, he is, called “Look Me In the Eye.”

Dudemanbro never looked me in the eye until he was five.

Weirdest story is this, when he was about 10 months old, we were giving him a bath, and I noticed, he was fascinated with the text on the back of the shampoo bottle. Really fascinated, and I watched him after that, and I was amazed, it was like he was trying to figure it out. I thought I had a prodigy in my hands, and I hit the internet to read up on precocious text recognition. Guess what, a sign of aspergers. Which was confirmed 2 years later.

By the way, life is good, I love him and we have great times and 95% of the time he is sweet and bright and loving and we have the best time. Its that 5%. When I feel overwhelmed, I focus on the bad, as does everyone. I am deeply thankful to all for your kind words and obvious genuine concern. But I want to reassure you, its not that bad, its good, I would not have him any other way.

OK, a little “Grand Theft Airplane” to lighten the mood. My bi-polar father, who would never take meds because he loved the mania soooo much, was a fighter pilot in Vietnam, and then a flight instructor for the Navy (his favorite thing in the world was landing on aircraft carriers). Later, he became a pilot for Pan Am on translatlantic flights (and people wonder why I’m afraid to fly. You never know who’s at the controls). Like a good little manic depressive, he loved gambling, and got himself seriously in debt to some very bad people. Faced with threats of grave bodily harm, he decided to “borrow” one of Pan Am’s planes and fly down to Florida, to get the money from his childless aunt who had “more money than god” and who adored and enabled him, like every other woman in the family. So he took a jet. Didn’t file a flight plan, nothing. He never really grasped the concept of personal property: he was happy for you to help yourself to whatever he had, and expected you to feel the same. The plane was just sitting there, after all — how could it hurt if he borrowed it for a few hours? Fly down schmooze the aunt, get the money, fly back, pay the bookie, and bob’s your uncle. Pan Am and the FAA took a far dimmer view of the situation, needless to say. He was fired, and lost his pilot’s license, and I think the only reason he didn’t go to jail is that Pan Am didn’t want the bad publicity. So he moved on to his next career: lawyer. Srsly.

@Mistress Cynica: Holy moly! Holy fucking moly! HE TOOK A PLANE FOR A JOY RIDE! Priceless.

ADD: A Pan Am plane. Not some little Cessna. A big ole plane. To get some money. That is hilarious in a slightly scary way.

@Mistress Cynica: I guess Western Union was out of the question.

western union…..HAHA thank you for that laugh too.
dave depressed the hell out of me

@JNOV: Never would have occurred to him. As my brother-in-law the doctor says, “The man was insane. And I’m speaking as a clinician when I say that.”

@Mistress Cynica: Fantastic story. I’d guess the carrier landings were during the manic phase, not the depression — and that he craved the excitement and action. That would apply to gambling also.

Old song just came on my radio, “Do it like they do on the discovery channel,” anyone remember that? The refrain was “You and me baby ain’t nothing but mammals so lets do it like they do on the Discovery Channel.” I am tickled by this.

@Mistress Cynica: Where did he go to law school? There was this crazy older ex-airline pilot in my class.

@Promnight: He started at University of South Carolina (when he was still married to my mom) but may have finished in Florida, where his mom was living. Oddly enough, I don’t know things like that because I don’t remember ever meeting him. He and Mother were divorced when I was a baby, and I went to live with my grandparents. My grandmother said that he came to see me once when he came back from Vietnam (I was three or four), but I didn’t know him and he didn’t come again. I don’t remember it. He came by my grandparents’ house once after I was in college, so my brother (who has a different dad) met him, but I never did. I got in touch with his family after he was murdered, and got to hear all the stories. He’s very vivid to me, but I didn’t know him personally.

@Promnight: I remember the song — “Let’s Talk about Sex,” I think — from Reality Bites.

@Promnight: First sexual song I ever recognized as such: “Why Don’t We Do it in the Road.” Sounded painful.

@baked: Picked up two hitchhikers. Shouldn’t have.

@Mistress Cynica: That’s horrible! Oh, God, I am so sorry! I remember the time my mom picked up a hitchhiker. Scared the shit out of me, but she probs was high (manicy and otherwise).

@Promnight: Ugh. Bloodhound Gang. They have one ok song (“Fire Water Burn”), but that is not it.

@Mistress Cynica: Oh dear. I’m sorry. My babysitter for a time (nanny is probably the best word, but the connotations…) sometimes accepted rides from strangers when we were waiting for the bus, and looking back it’s very lucky that nothing bad ever happened. You just never know.

Holy fuck, it’s too late to respond to all of this. And I have to get up at the ass-crack of dawn to catch a flight to the east coast.

Am still processing hijacked PanAm planes, hitchhikers, bipolar parents (oh, do I have some stories to add), exes of exes, gargoyles, Aspergers, etc.

Oh, and I am so pissed that USC crushed UCLA.

@Mistress Cynica:

You father must have been one of the few who enjoy carrier landings. From what I understand, no one else really does.

I used to play a few jet flight simulators in my time and even I sweated while simulating a carrier landing.

@ManchuCandidate: You read the part about him being insane, right? Yeah, total thrill-seeker/risk-taker. It’s why he got killed: he picked up hitchhikers even though he had been robbed twice before, once at gunpoint. I think it’s where I get my self-destructive streak.

@Mistress Cynica: OSU will face Oregon in Holiday Bowl

Saw that headline, and I thought whaaaa? Why does the Tulsa paper care about a Ducks-Beavers rematch?

But no, it’s that OSU. And if you see a bunch of Giant Green Fingers in the stands December 30, know that a Certain Stinquer designed them last week.

God damnI love you guys and gals!

I used to pick up hitchhikers, its sad that that is not safe anymore, I gave it up around 1985. I still remember during the late 60s, vietnam, when my older brother joined the navy so as not to go fight in the jungle, and he would go awol from Portsmouth and hitchhike home to New Jersey, show up at the door suddenly at 11 pm, Dad would yell at him for going awol.

@Promnight: I hitched rides along the east coast until the early 80s, and across Colorado and then down to Texas in 82. I think as with most of my travels I was extremely lucky. Kerouac proclaimed it dead in the Fifties.

@nabisco: Riding the rails isn’t going to work for us either. Far fewer trains, nazi police tactics. Maybe the increased numbers of the desperate destitute will overwhelm enforcement or change attitudes towards harrassing the homeless, or else maybe this is what all those homeland security refugee camps were for all along. Its alreadt pretty much illegal for a person to exist in the US with no money or home, its illegal now just to be anywhere, really, except on some property you own or rent.

@SanFranLefty: Foam hands, only they’re not foam, but some stronger material that supports photo printing. In a TV longshot, what you get are giant green fingers waving about.

Such is how I pay the rent.

@Promnight: @nabisco: @Mistress Cynica: Jeez! With your writing skills and stories like those about your father..I”d say you are already in possession of enough material for 1.37 great American novels. ‘Course, one’s got to have sufficient motivation, which , ironically is just about inversely proportional to the level of emotional healing one has reached. Damn, huh!?

I was a flight crew scheduler with American Airlines for five years, and my fund of stories is vast. I, too, know how it feels when you board an airplane, take a leftward glance and your neck hairs leap to attention as you recognize the “pilot in command” as a near-mental case who is near the top of your personal “no fly with” list.

My reaction to “Grand theft, Airplane” was skeptical, I admit, until I thought wait a minute, it’s our old friend/foe “addiction at work,
with its own complicated logic borne out of the thwarting of expectations
masquerading as plans. Can’t miss, right?

To Messrs N. and P. – Sorry, gents…I’m trying to get the hang of matching comments to positions. But I do value the freshness and insight of your contributions. In fact, this community of sharing, compassionate
souls is like a Twelve-step Mobile in cyberspace, and with booze. no less
(where appropriate) .

@EffeteHipster: This is not a blog, website, or whatever you call these things, this is a tight, horrendously dysfunctional family, we love each other here. I am convinced that when the Bush depression hits its nadir we will all survive by forming a commune, no lie. Till then we hold each others hands when depressed, hold each others hair when puking, and kid and joke together to thwart the tears that the world demands, and to help each other through the tears that we sometimes can’t escape.

The world sucks, and it fucks over good people and evil fucks prevail and sickness and tragedy and random acts of evil and sadness and everything bad is really the norm, and we care, so we all, even though we are all really lucky, even the poorest of us who drink 2 buck chuck, we all have to drink just to keep from collapsing from sheer empathy and sadness for all the starving and sad and hopeless souls in the world, even though we are all reallly lucky, we do need each other because we feel, and think, two of the greatest curses that can befall a person on this earth, to feel and to think, because god, when you think about it, all you can feel is fucking black despair.

Positions? They don’t matter, no matter your position, unless you are a heartless unthinking unfeeling libertarian, it doesn’t matter.

So, dude, hold my hand. Its not gay.

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