Actually I was in a good mood the other night when I shot this. Cold, but sort'a okay. Christmas makes me crazy. I love it, but like an old girl or boy friend it can just never be the same as before. Yeah I'm happy to see it, and I'm glad others are having a ball. However for me I guess it best I keep my distance lest my heart be broken again.
I know this sounds like something from one of those 19th century romance novel's secretly written by nice New England ladies,...but ya gets the point.
6 comments:
Gee, Inkplum really is a pervert page. First we get nostalgic about firebombing cities, as long as it's done by propeller driven aeroplanes, then sex tourism, and now flacking credit cards (if the ads aren't a phishing expedition...). Sure puts me in the Christmas spirit!
Indeed I am a pervert. I love teenaged boys. However that's besides the point just now.
Not just here, but on my pervert Inkplum, at my job, in various groups I work with, and just generally around us.
There seems to be an underlying mean spiritedness like a poision gas almost everywhere. I keep encountering it. Friends tell me the same thing.
It's everywhere. Even from people with no history for that sort of thing. Very sad this.
Perthaps it's a symptom of these cruel times. I think folks are just giving back what they've been getting so it just build on itself.
After reading your post I was going to shut everything down. My two last remaining blogs, my e-mails, my cell, the cable. This to the the ugly from invading my private space.
It's not you personally, but in a way it's a last straw thing.
Yeah besides boys I love old aircraft,and the air associated with it, and I though I had explained that it wasn't for love of burning the innocent alive.
You either didn't read that or didn't care. I should say you're a last straw because something similar just happened on another website. Over there an apparent willful misunderstanding just to get in a mean jab.
So.
Here we are.
Btw, it's interesting. You may be put off because I like boys, and on my pervert page that guy was put off because I'm morally horrified by sex tourism against those same boys.
My trial at the gates of Heaven should be interesting.
Btw that credit card crap in the Inkplum comments section was spam from one of that page's regular trolls.
I'm not put off that you like boys; Bodmin is an old tom cat and loves to curl up beside them and purr too. In fact, I was considering ending my first comment with the suggestion that Inkplum gets back to something lovingly perverse, like boys.
I'm not even put off that you like old aeroplanes. Your greeting card years ago with the Ford Trimotor doing a fly-by of the Chrysler Building was great. But I am put off by the glorification of military technology. From where I am now I can walk two blocks up and the whole neighbourhood changes for the next two blocks, because one afternoon in 1944 somebody got their coordinates wrong and wiped out four square blocks of humanity rather than the docks a couple of miles away. After I moved here I talked to an old guy on the street who had lived there; he went to work in the morning, came back at night to find his home and wife and kids gone. I know, shit happens and it was a necessary war. But I also know, having grown up in America in the '50 like you did, with the plastic models of our Hellcats and B-25s and the Enola Gay and all, that somehow Americans don't quite get it, not having anything like a change in the buildings from one side of a street to the other to remind them.
The other two are not your fault. They are, as you put it, the general poison blowing around at present. It was a good thing you read the shameless shilling for third world sexual exploitation that got posted there before breakfast; I can assure you that reading it after breakfast made me want to vomit. On the other hand, you should have waited until after breakfast to respond, and ranted like the comment deserved. (However, if you'd looked at the details in the photo, like the slippers and the woman's thong he's showing, you might have seen what you were getting yourself into and sidestepped the whole mess. Doesn't say you mightn't have wanted to have his babies, but you'd have known he wanted to have yours, for a price.) And what better deserves the poison gas metaphor than links for sleazy credit cards that seep in under doors? I was merely observing that they were there.
So?
So, let's get back to some real, hearty, healthy stuff that the world calls perversion, instead of the stuff the rest of the world outside Sidneyland thinks is fine and dandy.
Now, that's better.
Admit it: wouldn't you rather spend an afternoon with "oud" than with a B-52 any time?
Umm,...well. Okay I'll take him with me on a flyby of the North Korean border.
Don't worry we won't drop bombs. Just back issues of "Destroyer" magazine.
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