Lustful Attraction

Write one sentence. Then write another without violating the first one. Continue until complete.

LUSTFUL ATTRACTION

That little shit. Probably asleep by now. Sure, he has it good. Just does what he wants and then sleep sleep sleep. He doesn’t have to worry, nothing bad happens to him. No getting fat or ridiculed, no sneaking to the doctor for a fix, and who knows the cost. No shame with your parents or degradation on TV. No, just sleep.

But not for her. For her it’s the bathroom, up all night, scrub, scrub, clean. Get it out, as much as possible, and morning after pill. 70% effective, that’s what she heard. 100% for her. One gulp and it’s down, problem solved, all is fixed, all forgiven, hopefully forever, at least for now.

She heads back to the bedroom, lights out, dark and silent. But light enough, thank you streetlight, and whoever was dumb enough to put a window in front. Light enough to see: he’s not asleep, he’s awake, awake for her. He shines in the darkness, still naked, so beautiful. And what do you know, still ready, at attention. His chiseled abs, round biceps, and his thing, standing tall, after all they just did. Amazing.

He says nothing, just lies silent, waiting. But he knows. His beauty, she can’t resist. Sure, she’s experienced, and no, she doesn’t do this with just anyone, well maybe she does, but with him, it’s special. He’s special. Who’s she to refuse?

She slides into bed, under covers and on top. And then, the bathroom. She remembers: cleaning and douching and she knows he’ll do it again, cum inside her, finish without thinking, that asshole, conceited fucker, doesn’t care about anything, thinks he can do whatever he wants because he is beautiful.

He slips inside and she smiles with delight. Yes he can. He is beautiful, he can do what he wants. She’s prepared, took her pill, 100% effective. And if not, there’s always the doctor, a thousand dollars, well worth tonight, this moment, this guy.

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Behind Her Back

Throw a bunch of words in a hat, pull one out, and write a story using that word.

This week’s word: SLIP

BEHIND HER BACK

Venice Beach. What kind of person doesn’t like Venice? The ocean, the boardwalk, filled with artists and entertainers, passion and beauty. Bums, that’s what she calls them. Lazy, leeches, dregs on society. Get a real job; contribute like the rest of us. Like she did to me.

That’s right, like me, 9-5, corporate marketing and my soul sucked dry, Monday through Friday and Saturdays too, fifty weeks a year for the rest of my life, earn that fat paycheck and buy nice things, dinners and jewelry, a fancy car, a place in the city. Things that don’t matter, no happiness, no fulfillment, no satisfaction for me.

We continue down the boardwalk, admiring and complaining. Me admiring, her complaining. The passion, the freedom, the talent and beauty. The ugliness and patheticness, these losers all losing. Inspiring and joyful, appreciate and take part. Disgusting, all useless, wasting time on crap art.

A painting, I like it. Sensual and beautiful, and sexy too. A woman, in bed, naked, alone. A real woman, with flesh and curves, I can see it on our bedroom wall, the openness and vulnerability, alive and free, tasteful, connected, uplifting. “If it were good it’d be in a gallery,” “I don’t want anything from here in my house,” “Real paintings go for much more than that.” I can hear it all, her criticism and contempt. And so the wall remains bare, no painting and no passion, bare walls and a bare life, and every once in a while it’s off to the boardwalk, where she judges and complains, too good for everyone, too good for me. Forever and always, stuck with this girl, to good for everyone, too good for me.

“Can you believe it?” she asks herself, to herself but aloud, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Of all things, classical.” She’s near a violinist, performing for us, for us and himself and everyone. Mozart’s 40th, beautiful, but to her, disgusting. And she’s not shy, she’s special, her thoughts are for everyone. “Who do these people think they are? If you’re gonna butcher something, at least not classical. God!”

And that’s it, her thoughts, through her mind and out her lips, for everyone to know. The violinist keeps playing, for himself and for others, no longer for us. But the music is beautiful, and so when she’s not looking I slip him a twenty. Into his tip jar when she’s not looking, because I don’t want a scene, encouraging poverty, laziness, apathy, and false dreams. Not music or art or passion or beauty. Must go behind her back to encourage those things. Behind her back, the only place where I can be me.

Top Ten Movies of 2016

Mid-May isn’t too late to do a top ten of the year is it? I don’t think so, at least not when you’ve spent the previous year traveling the world! That’s my excuse anyways, for this super-late post on my favorite films of 2016.

I should note that there are still a couple popular/critically praised films I still haven’t seen from last year, like Elle, The Salesman, Moana, and probably some others that could make it onto this list once I see them.

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Where I’ve Been

Hello all! I haven’t posted here for a while and maybe you’re wondering where I’ve been. Well, I’ve been doing a lot of writing, and Inna and I are also taking a year off, to travel! That’s right, a whole year: Ireland, France, Germany, Italy, Hungary, Romania, Bulgaria, Greece, India, Thailand, Vietnam, Australia, New Zealand, Japan, South Korea, and of course road tripping across the United States! Maybe we’ll even get Africa in there, if we can manage it.

I started a new blog about my travel endeavors, so check it out! Otherwise, I don’t know how much I’ll be posting around here, but I’ll put up some stuff and I’ll talk to you soon!

Top Ten Movies of 2015

Here it is, my annual top ten films of the year!

Note: I still have not seen Creed, Son of Saul, and probably some others that might make it onto this list once I do see them.

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Blue Mornings Available Online!

My short slice-of-life drama Blue Mornings is available to watch online! Enjoy!

Starring: Caitlin Rose Williams, Ari Frenkel
Director of Photography: Christopher James Tobias
Composer: Jeff Icuss

13 Choices Amateur Filmmakers Make

The sequel to the 12 Choices Amateur Screenwriters Make, here are 13 choices that amateur filmmakers make.

1) All the writing choices I already mentioned 

2) Stupid camera shit, like:

  • Dolly zooms

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