Learning to Love Ourselves

Lord Long Rod

Diamond Member
Jan 17, 2023
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Sometimes we have to just accept ourselves for who we are; our gifts and talents, and our shortcomings. We may never become a great MLB pitcher, or a rock star. And that is OK. Maturing means we come to terms with who we are, and accept ourselves. This is something that is necessary for us to be happy and content individuals. I have had my run-ins with soul crushing defeats but I have learned to overcome and love myself.


When I was in my late teens, for example, I wanted to be a porn star. See, I took a year off immediately after high school. I started working for a home construction general contractor. I wanted to find myself, I guess. I had several liaisons with stay-at-home housewives. You know, where we sold a couple their home, but we were still working in the area. The homeowner calls complaining about something. I get sent over to see what is going on. The little lady is home alone. Next thing you know, she is bent over the kitchen table, breakfast plates not even cleared yet, her bare-ass naked, and I am parting her like Moses parted the red sea. It was crazy.


I already had a keen interest in porn films. I got into my dad’s secret stash when I was home from school sick one day when I was like 13 years old. I learned a LOT from those VHS tapes, like when I lost my virginity to Sally Smith, the girl next door. Had I not watched “Creamcicles 14” I would not have known to pull out at the last second and glue her eyes shut. Sally would have thought me a plebian had I not made that move! I was the only boy in high school who could fuck at a Van Nuys cokehead level.


So one day I had an epiphany. I was digging fence posts for a privacy fence I was to build. It came to me suddenly. “POOF!!!!” Go to California and become a porn star!!!! Honestly, it was just so perfect I got on my knees and thanked God for what I believed to be His divine intervention in my life. Of course, I had toyed with the idea. But I just never conceived of myself as being good enough to be a professional cocksman.


I looked into the business part of porn to educate myself. I discovered that a couple of the major studios had locations in Florida. Being from Georgia I opted for auditions there. To be considered for an audition I had to send them a video sample of my work. I figured I needed some hot pieces of ass in order to maximize my chances. So I coked up a couple strippers at a titty bar and got them onboard. The production was outstanding! We made a sensational fuck tape! I eagerly sent it off for review.


Six weeks later I received a phone call from a man named “Sal”. He told me that he had viewed the fuck flick I submitted. He said he watched it very intently, his interest reached a crescendo, then he put it aside. However, ten minutes later he was watching it again. Sal said, “Kid, you got some moves!! We could use a cocksmith like you in our studio. What do ya said about coming on down here and auditioning in person?” I lost my shit. I was so thrilled!!


A week later I was on the set in Florida. It was a casting call for a new parody-porn production called “Schindler’s Fist”. I auditioned to be an SS guard who bangs some chicks he discovered under the floor boards of a house, or some shit. I had no performance problems, which pleased me because I was full of jitters. I had never put on my fuck in front of such a large group of people. Of course, it did not hurt that the chicks I was screwing were hotter than an iPhone in downtown Baltimore. Everything went well. I even showed off and wrote “SS” on the ass of one of the chicks with my spooge during the money shot! The crowd loved it! They were hooting and clapping.


Sal told me to get dressed and meet him in his office in 15 minutes. Sal’s office turned out to be a U-Haul trailer out back. I just knew that he was going to offer me a contract!! The audition could not have gone better. But when I walked into Sal’s office I detected a bad vibe.


Sal seemed apologetic when he told me the news. “See, kid, you did a great job with the audition. You were perfect in almost every way. The look, the moves, the creative use of bukkake… There’s just one thing.” I was heartbroken. I knew I was fucked. Sal continued on, “It’s your dick. Don’t get me wrong. Your wang is fine and all. It is even bigger than average! But it is not porn size. That’s all.” I asked him what “porn size” meant. He said it had to be 7.25 inches minimum. I tried arguing with Sal, saying “I can make it longer, Sal, honest!!! All I need is a penis pump and some …” But Sal held up his hand and said “Stop it. We have it on film. It just won’t work. If we don’t maintain a 7.25" minimum the bank pulls our funding, know what I mean?”


Sal told me how sorry he was and I went home to Georgia, tail tucked between my legs. I then experienced acute denial. I traveled to California anyway, east L.A. to be exact. I tried out again. But it was the same old story. They all loved my moves, my technique, and my stamina. But my dick was too short to be a porn stud. I was utterly devastated. I went into a deep, dark funk that lasted into my late 40s. My life was a long string of failed relationships, coke, and penicillin.


However, I eventually was able to pull out of my depression. See, when I was a teenager I played guitar. I was really good too. I played in bands and gigged all over town. My most successful band was a deathcore metal band called “Blood Piss”. We made $200.00/wk. playing metal versions of Frank Sinatra hits. Anyway, one day I was listening to SiriusXM and they played some old Napalm Death. I was zapped! I crawled up in the attic and found my old guitar and my Marshall stack. Currently, I am training for a metal comeback!! My new band’s name is “Stink Puss”.


So I have a new lease on life now!! I have also grown and matured. My long and melancholy sojourn in the porn life taught me that we are more than the sum of our parts. We are each unique individuals with much to contribute to the world. So don’t worry if your dick is to small to fuck whoowahs professionally. There is more to life than that. For me, it’s time to throw up my devil horns and rock you to hell!!! Yeah!!!
 
Is New York full of crazy people?

People say New York is full of crazy people... but the reality is that we all aspire to stand out from the crowd, to be "a great MLB pitcher, or a rock star" as Lord Long Rod put it.

Since most of us can't, some people try and differentiate themselves from the masses by dyeing their hair, wearing weird clothes, cultivating strange hobbies, etc...

Nobody wants to be a nameless, faceless number among 7 billion human beings and I guess this urge is a little bit stronger in megalopolises like New York with their skyscrappers that make you feel like an ant.
 
Is New York full of crazy people?

People say New York is full of crazy people... but the reality is that we all aspire to stand out from the crowd, to be "a great MLB pitcher, or a rock star" as Lord Long Rod put it.

Since most of us can't, some people try and differentiate themselves from the masses by dyeing their hair, wearing weird clothes, cultivating strange hobbies, etc...

Nobody wants to be a nameless, faceless number among 7 billion human beings and I guess this urge is a little bit stronger in megalopolises like New York with their skyscrappers that make you feel like an ant.
Those people who dye their hair those awful shades of green, red, blue, purple ... How fucking gross! I was thinking about this over the past weekend, wondering if the color signifies allegiance to a certain partisanship (e.g., neo-commie; prop-tranny; pro-gay, etc...). But then, I have also seen country chicks who do this to themselves. I mean, this sort of thing makes them look ass-ugly. I don't get it. Why would you intentionally make yourself looks like shit? And where is the line? Chicks are tattooing themselves too, in all sort of hideous ways. They are piercing themselves, all over. It may only be a matter of time before they start plucking out their eyeballs. Maybe they will start breaking their arms and displaying gross compound fractures. It is all too much.
 
Sometimes we have to just accept ourselves for who we are; our gifts and talents, and our shortcomings. We may never become a great MLB pitcher, or a rock star. And that is OK. Maturing means we come to terms with who we are, and accept ourselves. This is something that is necessary for us to be happy and content individuals. I have had my run-ins with soul crushing defeats but I have learned to overcome and love myself.


When I was in my late teens, for example, I wanted to be a porn star. See, I took a year off immediately after high school. I started working for a home construction general contractor. I wanted to find myself, I guess. I had several liaisons with stay-at-home housewives. You know, where we sold a couple their home, but we were still working in the area. The homeowner calls complaining about something. I get sent over to see what is going on. The little lady is home alone. Next thing you know, she is bent over the kitchen table, breakfast plates not even cleared yet, her bare-ass naked, and I am parting her like Moses parted the red sea. It was crazy.


I already had a keen interest in porn films. I got into my dad’s secret stash when I was home from school sick one day when I was like 13 years old. I learned a LOT from those VHS tapes, like when I lost my virginity to Sally Smith, the girl next door. Had I not watched “Creamcicles 14” I would not have known to pull out at the last second and glue her eyes shut. Sally would have thought me a plebian had I not made that move! I was the only boy in high school who could fuck at a Van Nuys cokehead level.


So one day I had an epiphany. I was digging fence posts for a privacy fence I was to build. It came to me suddenly. “POOF!!!!” Go to California and become a porn star!!!! Honestly, it was just so perfect I got on my knees and thanked God for what I believed to be His divine intervention in my life. Of course, I had toyed with the idea. But I just never conceived of myself as being good enough to be a professional cocksman.


I looked into the business part of porn to educate myself. I discovered that a couple of the major studios had locations in Florida. Being from Georgia I opted for auditions there. To be considered for an audition I had to send them a video sample of my work. I figured I needed some hot pieces of ass in order to maximize my chances. So I coked up a couple strippers at a titty bar and got them onboard. The production was outstanding! We made a sensational fuck tape! I eagerly sent it off for review.


Six weeks later I received a phone call from a man named “Sal”. He told me that he had viewed the fuck flick I submitted. He said he watched it very intently, his interest reached a crescendo, then he put it aside. However, ten minutes later he was watching it again. Sal said, “Kid, you got some moves!! We could use a cocksmith like you in our studio. What do ya said about coming on down here and auditioning in person?” I lost my shit. I was so thrilled!!


A week later I was on the set in Florida. It was a casting call for a new parody-porn production called “Schindler’s Fist”. I auditioned to be an SS guard who bangs some chicks he discovered under the floor boards of a house, or some shit. I had no performance problems, which pleased me because I was full of jitters. I had never put on my fuck in front of such a large group of people. Of course, it did not hurt that the chicks I was screwing were hotter than an iPhone in downtown Baltimore. Everything went well. I even showed off and wrote “SS” on the ass of one of the chicks with my spooge during the money shot! The crowd loved it! They were hooting and clapping.


Sal told me to get dressed and meet him in his office in 15 minutes. Sal’s office turned out to be a U-Haul trailer out back. I just knew that he was going to offer me a contract!! The audition could not have gone better. But when I walked into Sal’s office I detected a bad vibe.


Sal seemed apologetic when he told me the news. “See, kid, you did a great job with the audition. You were perfect in almost every way. The look, the moves, the creative use of bukkake… There’s just one thing.” I was heartbroken. I knew I was fucked. Sal continued on, “It’s your dick. Don’t get me wrong. Your wang is fine and all. It is even bigger than average! But it is not porn size. That’s all.” I asked him what “porn size” meant. He said it had to be 7.25 inches minimum. I tried arguing with Sal, saying “I can make it longer, Sal, honest!!! All I need is a penis pump and some …” But Sal held up his hand and said “Stop it. We have it on film. It just won’t work. If we don’t maintain a 7.25" minimum the bank pulls our funding, know what I mean?”


Sal told me how sorry he was and I went home to Georgia, tail tucked between my legs. I then experienced acute denial. I traveled to California anyway, east L.A. to be exact. I tried out again. But it was the same old story. They all loved my moves, my technique, and my stamina. But my dick was too short to be a porn stud. I was utterly devastated. I went into a deep, dark funk that lasted into my late 40s. My life was a long string of failed relationships, coke, and penicillin.


However, I eventually was able to pull out of my depression. See, when I was a teenager I played guitar. I was really good too. I played in bands and gigged all over town. My most successful band was a deathcore metal band called “Blood Piss”. We made $200.00/wk. playing metal versions of Frank Sinatra hits. Anyway, one day I was listening to SiriusXM and they played some old Napalm Death. I was zapped! I crawled up in the attic and found my old guitar and my Marshall stack. Currently, I am training for a metal comeback!! My new band’s name is “Stink Puss”.


So I have a new lease on life now!! I have also grown and matured. My long and melancholy sojourn in the porn life taught me that we are more than the sum of our parts. We are each unique individuals with much to contribute to the world. So don’t worry if your dick is to small to fuck whoowahs professionally. There is more to life than that. For me, it’s time to throw up my devil horns and rock you to hell!!! Yeah!!!
Brought to you by Hunter Biden

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