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What can i say... i make one ugly bitch.

My 4th of July.

So staying true to my fitting in with the gay world. I spent my 4th of July on Fire Island.
I would have to say the most fun i had on the island was when i just arrived and felt the need to break the ice at my friends timeshare by choosing to steal one of the drag queens wigs and sun dresses and transformed myself into B. Arther on steroids. I'm not sure what it is but i seem to get a kick out of dressing like an ugly bitch when I'm sober. Maybe I'm slowly finding my calling after porn as the ugliest drag queen this world has ever seen. Just a thought. lol.
Of course, after this the drug came out and that's right when everything got boring. (Mental Note).
We did all the parties... high tea, low tea, middle tea, up/down tea, around the bend tea, sideways tea, blow my fucking brains out tea. Basically its just the same party that moves to different place on the island. Because its an island, its all the same people are going to everything, yet you anticipate each party to hopefully be prettier then the last, only to find out, HOLY SHIT, ITS ALL THE SAME FUCKING PEOPLE. You either lower your standards or you do alot of drugs. I chose the drugs. But hey, it was the 4th of July and the only way you can show how much you care about your country is by getting as fucked up as possible and by blowing shit up right? well I was feeling it this year!

The worst part of going to fire island is the close to 2 hour trip home. I regrettably accepted a car ride home from a friend instead of taking the train. About 10 mins into the ride on the long island expressway, i quickly was sobered up and almost started to have a panic attack and realized how much hate long car rides. Its not that i don't trust the driver, well never mind, i don't trust the driver and i don't trust anyone driving around me either. I always picture dying in a "Final Destination" like car crash. The fact that he had a convertible and chose to drive the whole way home with the top down only enhanced my visions of a violent death. Something like the car flipping over and scrapping my face off before sliding to a stop. I thought "well this won't be dying on the couch because an overdoes like you always hoped but at least it will all be over". I was comforted for a moment with the thought yet couldn't stop using my fake emergency brake for the rest of the ride.

I woke up this morning feeling like shit and i instantly called my dealer. All he had was Crystal and as much as i hate doing crystal, i agreed to buying some. I thought fuck it. I'll just get high all day and take some sleeping pills when i crash and we'll pretend this day never existed.
Thankfully i had a half hour before he got here and my better judgement kicked in. I looked at myself in the mirror and said to myself " you know your just going to waste this, you work to hard to look like this to throw it away" Of course i didn't have the balls to call my dealer and say fuck it. So i let him come to my place and ring my buzzer for 20 mins before he finally gave up and left. Sucks for him.

I always do this, its kinda like a kid being denied candy. He eats all he can while his mothers back is turned and then gets sick from it. Then when he has the chance to do it again he doesn't cuz he knows what will happen. The same happens to me... i have my fill and then say...no more. That where i am now. Its not like I'm even having fun anymore, I'm just doing it. I'm getting more depressed and i don't wanna live like this.

I'm tired of trying to fit in. I don't wanna fit in.

Its time to take a break from drugs for awhile and I'm gonna try and find someone to fill this void. Yeah I'm co dependant, who cares. At least i wont be doing drugs. I am a fucking Twin, i was built to be with someone and that's what i need. At least that's how i feel right now.

I expect we've all noticed the shift in the tone of the alternative sites on the net. Even the soft sites have had to concede to the sheer weight of evidence - and the sheer number of people who've woken up to the evidence - and are now discussing all things Jewish. And sure enough, the sites that weren't soft to begin with are now becoming really quite vicious.


This is not for nothing. We can no longer ignore the fact that the US Federal Reserve, along with every reserve bank in the Western World, is in the hands of a tiny number of Jewish families. The banks rule all. The Media are their hand-maidens and are 'corporate' only insofar as the corporations are the capos of the banking godfathers. The US congress and senate are owned by the Jewish lobby. US foreign policy is not an expression of corporate will but of Jewish will. And most obviously the only Jewish state in the world, Israel, seems perfectly unrivalled in its calculated, media-savvy infliction of misery, suffering and ethnic cleansing.

Initially people were keen to make a distinction between Zionists and the majority of right-thinking Jewish people. But what were they to make of the fact that this majority, otherwise very busy across all the alternative sites, refused to address the question of ownership of the Fed and control of the US Government and the media? Even the most modest discussions along these lines were attacked by these 'right-thinking' Jewish people. To people who had not grown up racist and were merely asking what they considered fair questions it seemed that these non-zionist Jews (for want of a better description) were tasked with protecting the wicked by flinging accusations of anti-semitism at anyone who dared stick their head above the parapet. Sure enough this accusation is now so devalued it's merely water off a duck's back.

So here we are in uncharted territory. The people whom we understood to be victims are in fact the victimisers. The more one learns - of the holocaust, David Sassoon, the talmud, the USS Liberty, the dancing Israelis, ad infinitum - the more one has to wonder at these people. Henry Kissinger's quote, "Any people who have been persecuted for two thousand years must be doing something wrong" starts making a great deal of sense. It seems our understanding of these things is a fictional creation. So where are our certainties? Where do we stand? On what ground do we plant our feet? Without the answer to this question our posture-attitude-stance cannot be known. Any position we take is untenable.


Anyone who's been spending time here, or over at smokingmirrors, will know perfectly well the rising glee of white supremacists rapt that people are coming around to their way of thinking. Hitler was misrepresented they say. And they're right. He was. Just like every other thing. Says they, if you wonder at the wickedness of Jews, you've really no other choice but to take that final step and embrace racism and take up the cudgel of 'Jew expulsion'.

In the absence of any other foundation for dealing with the 'Jewish problem' (and here I merely quote the Zionists of the time who used the term in their declarations of admiration for Hitler's extolling of racial purity) it seems like racism might be our only option.

Yeah? Fuck that - it's bullshit. It's an idiotic argument that falls at the first hurdle. If you wish to battle Jewish racism with your own variant, you will be precisely as successful as Hitler was. Jewish people are the masters of the racism game. Their ability to remain distinct, to refuse to become part of those they live amongst, is peerless. You play that game with them and you lose.


In fact, racism suits Jewish people. A great number of them have said so. If neo-Nazis didn't exist the Jews would have to invent them anyway. In fact they did. Google 'bill weiss megaphone'. This created racist 'opposition' aside, the Jewish media is a racism machine. Every opportunity to promote racial disharmony is unfailingly taken. But I've done this subject to death and really couldn't be fagged pointing out examples. The simple fact is that racism is a weapon. And it's their weapon. It serves several purposes: it helps keep the expendable Jews paranoid and united; it provides a means of attacking those who would oppose them; it keeps those same people divided and distracted; and it provides a cover to carry on with their own specific brand of racism.

Racism is a construct based on the thin-as-a-hair fear of those a bit different to us. Anyone using either their sense of reason or their sense of decency will know that racism in response to racism fails on both counts.


If you're like me and have never previously been racist there is no need to start now. The means to attack Jewish control is perfectly obvious. It's a simple platform of clear-eyed anti-racism. Any form of racism must be attacked. And sure enough, the kings of racism, the most perfect exponents of it, the ever separate Jews, should come in for the most criticism. Their racism should be waved in front of them. They should not be allowed to change the subject, to point at others, or to redefine the argument with whatever self-serving bullshit definition of racism that they come up with.

Every man is my brother and every woman my sister. Except for racists. Racists deserve no respect. They get nothing but scorn. There is no pity for a racist. There was no pity for Nazis or their supporters, and there should be no pity for Zionists and theirs. Any people who think they are 'other', or 'separate', or 'better' deserves long, loud, unstinting public approbation. If you think that's not enough for this particular problem, you're wrong. The media is not controlled for nothing. It's controlled because such a public discussion is death to these people. Fuck secrecy. Fuck muttering. Loud voices raised in righteous unison is an irresistable spotlight that defeats wickedness.


Planting your feet on the rock hard certainty of anti-racism is the only way to win this battle. Side with the racists and you've nothing but quicksand beneath you. You are not attacking a race. You are attacking racists.

Just a short note to announce the winner of the competition. Competition? What competition? Don't worry, I didn't know about it either. Truth be known, there wasn't one until I had a winner that was so irresistible that I made a competition just for them.

As background, this all came about as I was browsing my statcounter. This statcounter is responsible for the little hit counter at the bottom of the right hand side here. Actually, it does more than merely give me a total count. It gives me the country, state and town of each hit. Don't worry, I have no idea who anyone is. Other spooky people might, but not me.

Anyway... one place-name just kept popping up over and over and over again. Was it a big city like LA or New York? Hardly. It has a population of just 56,447. And yet people from this tiny town have recently been hitting this site every hour or two. I get more hits from this place than any of the world's great metropolises. That's why I made a competition called The Busiest Internet Town In The World.

And the winner is... drumroll... Reston, Virginia!


Actually it's not really a regular town. Perhaps we should call it a 'company' town. Mind you 'town' isn't quite the right word either. Really it's more of a suburb of Washington DC. It's a bit like Langley in that fashion. Which, funnily enough, is just next door.

Anyway, the fine people of Reston Virginia, I salute you! Long may you have nothing better to do than sit around on the US taxpayer's dollar spending time on sites like this. Hats off to your sinecure! After all the amateur zeroes who come here on the cheap, it's nice to know that there's people out there who are actually paid to do it. And I join you at sneering at those who think that you're villains. You're not villains! You're making the world a better place. Not for all of course. Just for a small privileged elite. As the old saying goes, better to be a fucker than a fuckee, eh? In honour of your victory here today, and in acknowledgement of your service to a tiny percentage of the US population, I declare you to be, without doubt, the former of these two aforementioned! Three cheers!

Over at smokingmirrors, Les Visible is in amongst a discussion about making stickers and plastering the neighbourhood in order to get the topic of 911 out into the wider public. It's a good idea. But I went sideways. Here's what I wrote in the comments there -

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I had a thought. These stickers are a fine idea. Everything to push the concept and spread it about is good. But where do people go from there? Wouldn't it be nice if there was a website address they could go to? The problem with this is that a sticker needs to remain visually uncluttered to have impact. Furthermore who's going to remember an address? I have trouble at the best of times.

So I thought, wouldn't it be cool if whatever it was had little tear-off strips like those photocopied A4 sheets you see taped to traffic poles at intersections. I don't know about other places but here they usually advertise share accommodation, or a lost pet, or some kind of work-at-home thing. They're invariably hand written, not too much text, a single photo in the middle, and tear off phone numbers at the bottom.



Why don't we steal that and subvert the medium? Instead of a phone number we put a website on the tear-offs. Me, I'd put whatreallyhappened.com. The other beauty of the concept is that you don't even need a printer or any sticker paper for it. Hell, you don't even need a computer. You just hand-scrawl it up, tape in a quick piccy, and run 'em off on your nearest photocopier. Ten cents a pop. And there's the sticky tape of course and a pair of scissors to cut the tear-offs. And you could make a new one each week. Or each day if you're up for it.



As for the copy, it should only be two or three lines. We ain't trying to explain everything. It's just a teaser to get them to go to the website. Ideally it'll be some head-scratching fact.

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And here's what I quickly came up with. If you don't care for them, that's fine by me. Make your own. Don't forget how it works. An interesting or unlikely photo will turn their head. The sparsity of text will make them want to read it. The rule for the text is - keep it short, make it intriguing. No explanations, just a teaser. They should be intrigued enough to tear off the address and then check it out when they get home. Happy subverting.

I have slowly been ploughing my way through everything written by Dave McGowan. He is really something. Firstly I admire his breezy writing style. He reminds me of no one so much as me, albeit without the smarty-pants syntax and the mad urge to end every other sentence with 'ha ha', ha ha.

But never mind the self-reference, he's possessed of a laser-like intellect, has an uncanny bullshit detector and he actually looks stuff up. Me, I preach to the converted. Dave McGowan does the converting. He certainly converted me.

His deconstruction of 911 is the best I've ever read. His look at what took place at the Pentagon is peerless, as is his analysis of flight 93 in Pennsylvania. Then there's his questioning of the concept of 'serial killers' - it's a headfuck. His current yet to be finished effort on Laurel Canyon and the birth of the hippy movement is just spooky. McGowan has an astounding ability to take what you'd thought was bedrock and show you the four-be-twos, plaster, and paint, leaving you in the sure knowledge you've been had.


But all of these come second to his absolutely trashing of the peak-oil myth. I'd always had a problem with Mike Ruppert. Something didn't smell quite right about him. For me, as a penniless fellow, it didn't help that he required me to pay. What sort of saviour demands your money? McGowan (who doesn't demand your money) has torn Ruppert to pieces.

It turns out that any discussion of fossil fuel is worthless on account of its beg-the-question false premise. 'Fossil fuel' is a misnomer - oil isn't made from fossils. Yep, I found that hard to believe too. Weren't we taught this in high-school? Well, it turns out that oil is made deep under the mantle of the earth where heat and pressure chemically convert limestone and other minerals into hydrocarbons. Scientists have reproduced this in the lab and it's a big don't-argue. So don't argue. Just go read. The link is to the right.

I've been singing from the peak-oil song-sheet for years now. And I was wrong. I feel bad that I spent all this time wrong-drumming people that oil is running out. If only I'd come across Dave McGowan earlier. Never mind. I was duped and that's all there is to it. As it is, I'm still recalibrating how everything fits in with this reality. I now look at many, many things in a new light - the campaign against the electric car, wars in the Middle East, the CFR and eugenics, every goddamn thing. Curse you Dave McGowan!


There's only a single thing missing from McGowan's look at the big picture. As far as I know he's never addressed the privately owned Fed, international banking, and control of the money supply. He's perfectly convinced that the empire being built is an American one. The villains behind global wickedness are the American ruling classes, corporations, and the CIA all acting in concert. Sorry Dave, I don't buy it.

This disparate corporate elite is still disparate. And yet it acts as one. How is this possible? How does a collection of powerful and yet self-interested people suppress their self-interest to work collectively? Self-interest is centrifugal. Think of all those heist flicks you've seen of gangs of criminals coming to pieces as everyone attempts to diddle each other out of the loot. This is the truth of self-interest. There is no such thing as a collective of wicked self-interested people united in fellow-feeling. It's a contradiction in terms.

The unity we see amongst the wealthy and powerful of the world can only come about by one of two means. The first is religion. Religion, by way of delusion, can unite an otherwise disparate people. In fact I would say that this is its primary purpose. But in this case, it's absurd on its face. In my wildest script-writing dreams I couldn't come up with a structure and creed that would bring the world's most powerful people to truly believe in the way that the worshippers of other religions believe. These are cynical sons of bitches - there's only one way they're going to act collectively. And that's through fear - the offer they can't refuse.


And somebody has to deliver this offer. It has to be a single entity. It has to be united by clan or religion or both. It has to have the power to enforce its will. All of McGowan's villains fail on this score. They are not united and they don't have the power except as a collective. His villains are merely capos. The capos are free to operate on their own provided they don't undermine the ruling banking families. And they have done. It's perfectly evident. But to imagine that the capos are the bosses is a mistake. These capos cannot stand in the way of those who wield the ultimate stick of monetary power. These bankers have the power to ruin any economy in the world, even the US's. In fact they're doing it right now. And the capos, the American ruling class, cannot resist.

In no way does it suit the ruling class to have the US economy destroyed. It can only suit the banking families. From 1914 onwards they took all of America's gold and replaced it with worthless paper. Now that the gold is gone they no longer need the US. In fact, better for them that it was destroyed. And it is being destroyed. The US military is being smashed to pieces in the Middle East as we speak. The American ruling class will be left with whatever tattered remnants remain of their once great country.

Certainly there will be fascism. But who would destroy a nation in order to be the overlord of whatever shit-hole remains? If, on the other the hand, your nation was to be destroyed by those who could not be resisted, then you'd have no choice but to grab at whatever straws remained that would keep you in mansions, yachts with helicopters, and underage pussy. That the bankers have agreed to allow the American ruling class the use of the bloc-media to complete the imposition of fascism is merely a sop to stop them, and the people they might control, from getting unruly. Don't be confused about the media. It doesn't belong to the MIC or the CIA or the corporations. It's merely lent out to them occasionally.


But never mind that. In attempting to figure out what's going on in this bullshit world, no one has every piece of the puzzle. But Dave McGowan has way more than just about anybody. With his style, his incisiveness, and his ability to strike out on his own, he represents everything that's right with America. And me, I hang off every word he writes.

I'm so sick and tired of censoring myself to please the readers of this blog, So fuck it I'm just not anymore.

My Gay Pride.

I really went out of my way this year.

I started the week off hanging out with a couple good friends at B-Bar on Tuesday night. I'm not normally they type of guy who hangs out during the week but my friend Derrek persuaded me. Well it wasn't that hard. It being Gay pride in NYC i knew that there would be tons of hot out of townees looking for a good time, well fuck it, i wanted to be that good time.
Anyways, of course i was taking G, my favorite current crutch and it seemed the more i got fucked up the more guys wanted to hook up with me. At one point when i felt like i was going to pass out, i went to rest on a wall outside. I chose a spot right next to a really hot guy, who just by chance felt like he was in the mood to suck a really fucked up guys dick. Well i was in no condition to say No. I stumbled into the bathroom with him and went to work on his face. He was the first of three guys to blow me in the bathroom that night. Until my friend showed up...
I call him "Cock Block Extraordinaire". As soon as he shows up and starts hanging around me is as soon as no one comes near me. I didn't realize this until this weekend. I'm not sure if it is his over the top personality or if people think we are going out but all i know is that i more than likely could have gotten 10 hot out of towners to blow me in the bathroom if he hadn't shown up. Well, you could imagine i chose not to call this friend to hang out with me the rest of the weekend.

Thursday night. I went to a friends party at Universal Gear. Universal Gear is this clothing store that is in the heart of Chelsea. Even though the store Carries the same Diesel and G-Star cloths as any of the major retailers i would never shop there because of the location. It makes the cloths seem to gay. Anyways, it was kinda lame but kinda fun at the same time. I hung out with good friends who got drunk in the middle of the store as i personally felt like a drug addict since i was drinking my now famous "G-tini" in the middle of a clothing store party, a fucking clothing store party!!! Pretty Pathetic.
After the party was over i spent the rest of the night waiting for a dealer to drop off some coke so that i had some more drugs for the rest of the long weekend. yeah yeah yeah, judge me all you want.
I guess the highlight of the night was running into my crush from LA that was here for pride. He always seems happy to see me, yet, i don't think he really gives a shit about me. I guess that's what i get for having a crush on a player.

Friday night. The Worst night of the weekend.
I started the night out by hanging at a friends house party. There i was extremely creeped out when one of the fucked up guests confessed to me that i broke his heart. He said that he and bumped into me on the street one day with my BF and from there became obsessed. He said that when he went home to where ever he lived that he told all his friends about me and that he was in love. He said that since he never saw me again that he was heart broken, but he was happy that i was at this party and that it must be fate. I find it incredible that someone who seemed pretty normal could make up such a sick obsession and fantasy world in there head. I made my friends keep him away from me the rest of the night. I did more g and forgot we even had the conversation, hopefully he doesnt kill himself.
My other highlight from that night before it all went downhill was my friend who was throwing the house party coming over to me and saying "I hate most of these fags from our gym, what are they doing in my home". To which i laugh pretty hard about and told him i hate most of them also. We both decided the only thing we could do was go to the bathroom and snort some more Jesus. I was calling it jesus since i think everytime i came out of the bathroom i would get a look from the guests " like what are you doing in there". I said told them "i'm sorry i took so long, i was reading the bible while i was taking shit" Me and Jesus were best friends that night. Well at least before he dissapeared.
From the house party we went to NYC's biggest tourist trap club called Splash. This is where the night goes wrong. I don't remember much except seeing my crush again who seemed completely uninterested in me and doing alot of G because if it.
Fast forward to waking up in the clubs office by one of the bouncers throwing a cup of cold water in my face. Apparently i passed out in one of the bathroom stales and was found by Falcon model TJ Hawke, who i threw up on before the bouncers dragged me into the office. The bouncers helped me outside and got me into a cab.
Fast Forward to waking up in my bed with my ex bf yelling at me that he was calling the cops if i didn't get out of bed and go to the hospital. I have no clue how he was in my apartment but he, my neighbor from my building, his girl friend along with one of my friends were all arguing about what to do with me. I was in shock with all of this going on around me. Next thing i know, there is 4 cops in my apartment questioning me. All i remember is them asking me "what is today's date" and i thought to myself... "Jesus, i don't know what the date is normally, what the fuck make you think I'm gonna know what day it is now" I responded "i have no clue." Then we had to wait for paramedics to get there to evaluate me.
When they got there they seemed annoyed i wasn't passed out on the floor, foaming at the mouth. I explained the situation and the guy didn't answer me and just left my apartment. I felt like screaming at him saying "motherfucker, I'm not the one wasting your time, i didn't want you here, i wish i was sleeping also".
It was a fucking circus.
All i could think is that if i died this night it would have been perfect. I had no clue what was going on. Who wants to stare a gun right in the face? Its much easier if you turn off the light and you dont see it coming. It would have felt like i was just going to sleep.

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Part 2


Saturday
I woke up feeling like shit. It honestly all felt like a dream.
It took awhile for me to get myself moving again, but i was back at the gym later that day. Since it was gay pride and David Barton is like a gay night club during the day it was like my night never ended. With all the shameless tourists in town, I must have given my number out to at least 6 guys which is a personal all time high. I thought to myself, its amazing so many people want my numbers when i feel and think, i look like a G'ed out mess. I guess i do a better job playing it off than i think.
Later that night, i had to work the Manhunt party that was at HK Lounge. I was asked to do it last minute and basically had to stand around and sign autographs for people that i think felt bad for me more than actually caring about a getting a signed pic from me. Maybe they did? I still cant grasp the concept of collecting porn star autographs. I don't have any talent... i just fuck in front of a camera... whatever.
Anyways, i hung out with Steve Cruz and Falcon Model TJ Hawke. TJ who was with me the night before helped me recount some what happened. He told me i scared him. To which i replied "You are not the first Falcon model i have scared". I think Roman Heart still likes to go around telling people the story of where he thought i was going to kill him. Everyone gets one, and most of the time they are really fun to tell your friends when it over, you just have to survive them.
This night i tried to get back into my G state of mind but just like a bad night of drinking to much of a certain alcohol, the taste made me sick. So instead i turned my attention to coke. She took care of me. Ambien put me to sleep.


Sunday and Bump woke me up.
It was time for the parade. Thank god i wasn't in it this year. I just wanted to be able to walk away from it when i had enough of it. But believe it or not, i had so much fun. I think its better to watch then to have to be the one trying to please the viewers. Even though i was not in the mood to be Erik Rhodes today it was unavoidable. Just walking through the crowd i was asked to take endless pictures. Each one as much as i really wasn't in the mood to do, I put my signature half ass smile on and and tried to please everyone as much as it didn't please me. My friend even said to me, "i don't know how you do it, don't you ever just wanna scream leave me alone". And i do, but i figure, what if i was the fan and all i wanted was a picture, and the person says NO for whatever reason... your whole image of that person would change. I think i am way to over hated as is to turn down anyone, I'm not better than anyone, fuck I'm so happy that anyone wants my picture to begin with. Still G and a couple bumps got me threw it alittle easier.
From the parade a couple friends and i went to the pier Dance. This being my first time. I would have to admit that i was in awe of all the beautiful men. So i really let loose. I actually fucking danced. Well, not really, more like a 2 step/ muscle shuffle. I hung out with the hottest of the hot and made out with enough beautiful guys that a normal person would have had his fill for over a year. And when the night was coming to an end, i think god said, you deserve this and gave me one of the prettiest guys i have been with in a long time, with a gifuckingnourmous cock to match. It was like god and i made a deal... if i didn't die before the weekend was out i was going to be blessed with an incredible hot guy to end my weekend with. Well thank you fucking Jebus.

All in all it was a good time.

But yes.... here we go...

I do have a problem. I have a problem with drugs and i am addicted to sex. I need to slow down. I would never want to date a guy like me, a guy like i was over this weekend. Guys like me make me sick. Funny right?
I don't like myself and I'm not sure what its gonna take to change. I wanna say i wish i had someone in my life that could straighten me out, but what the fuck am i offering? "Hey date me please, I will ruin your life!". Something will wake me up... I'm sure...

I'm sure.