At the risk of being labeled Transphobic…

I think it’s time for the trans community to separate from the LGB community.

LGB has become pretty accepted. There are still issues to address and probably will be for the next 20 years or so.

The problem I see rising is that the Trans community has become so conflated with the LGB community at large, that Trans issues are damaging the LGB community and their hard won gains.

Comments in various online publications which were once about 50/50, pro/against LGB issues. Have become increasingly hateful and vicious about just “normal” LGB folks with the addition of the Trans communities never ending strident yelling.

While I agree that everyone should be teated kindly and equally. I don’t think that Trans issues as presented belong in the LGB spectrum. I also think that the way the Trans community is behaving has drawn the LGB part of the community needlessly into an agenda that is not representative of the average LGB person.

Comments in recent articles about Lia Thomas, and Rachel Levine demonstrate in my opinion that America is growing very tired of the Trans community and by extension the LGB community.

Many of the comments paint Trans people as gay or lesbian. Moreover, comments paint the entirety of the LGBT community as deranged, mentally unfit, sick, disgusting, evil, or perpetrating some kind of con on various institutions (Lia Thomas, I’m looking at you).

The Trans people that I have personally known may start out being homosexuals, but that appears to be a transitional phase. The person is homosexual because they believe with all their heart and soul, they were born in the wrong body. They’re intimate with the gender they find attractive but they still feel that their body isn’t right. Several of the Trans folks I’ve known, have entered into loving straight relationships after they’ve transitioned.

A former man, completes the required surgeries, and then marries as a woman to another man. They aren’t homosexual at that point.

The full transitions I’ve known, left the LGB community and went off to live in suburbia with their husbands and most have adopted children.

The LGB folks don’t believe they were born wrong. Typically they believe they were born a bit different but they’re content being whatever gender they were born. They don’t feel alien in their own bodies, they’re comfortable in preferring intimacy with members of the same gender.

I know for some, this is a difficult distinction, but it’s an important one.

My personal experience is very different from the strident demands of today.

What passes for the Trans community these days doesn’t seem to have the same appreciation for the gravity of the decision Transgender people had in years past.

It’s not just about pumping hormones into your body. Yes, that is part of it, but it’s about where your head is at. A transgendered friend told me that before the surgery when she looked in the mirror she perceived her male body as a suit she was trapped in. She said that she’d felt this way for her entire male life. When she woke up from surgery, during the months of healing she anticipated seeing her true self.

She said that the first time she saw herself in a mirror after healing, she cried with joy because she felt like she’d awakened from a terrible dream. For the first time in her life, she saw herself as the person she had always been.

As a male, she’d been somewhat androgynous. As a female, she was beautiful. You had to really look closely to see minimal telltales left by her time as a male.

As a male, he’d had a slight physique very little body hair and an average sized penis and testicles. His personality was sparkling, witty, and intelligent. He was a lot of fun to be around, a great entertainer, classy, with a sense of understated style. He was a great date, and knew how to please a man.

Post Surgery, as a woman, she had beautiful breasts. they were not ostentatious or out sized. The hormones added a little padding to her hips accentuating a femininity that I’d never noticed. She was still all the other things. Sparkling, witty, intelligent, classy, stylish, a great date, and she still knew how to please a man. She was different from any other woman I’d been with, in that she was always 100% engaged in sex. Her vagina was beautiful, and visually indistinguishable from any woman I’d been with.

She joked about it a little one night as we were cuddling in her bed in the dark. She said she’d paid for the full top of the line package and one of the best surgeons. She felt she was worth it since she was reclaiming her real body. Then she asked if she’d gotten her moneys worth.

I kissed her and told her, “Yes,” as far as I could see.

She later told me I’d been her last sexual partner as a man, and her first sexual partner as a woman. She liked the symmetry. Later she made a comment that stuck with me through the years. She said, “The unhappy old me died on the operating table, the new me is going to live savoring each day.”

About a year later, after all the documentation was settled, she took a job on the East Coast.

Several years later, there was a Christmas card with a picture of her, her husband, and his child from a previous marriage. The note inside said simply, “Can you believe I’m the ‘evil’ stepmother! I love my husband and while my life may be shorter than it would have been otherwise, it’s been marvelous so far. This is the life I always wanted. P.S. You were right I think. When we got serious I told him everything and let him decide from there. He thought about it for a week or two, then decided he didn’t care. We were married six months later. Thank you my friend.”

We’ve lost touch over the years, the last I heard she was still married, living in upstate New York and very happy.

Perhaps the fact that I’ve known intimately and personally someone who was transgender is coloring my view. When she began her transition, she dressed as a woman, and was never concerned about using the ladies room. She’d sometimes comment ruefully that she’d miss urinals because they were just so much easier to deal with. She had a group of close supportive friends and we all just accepted.

Perhaps it was easier for her and us, because pre surgery she could easily pass as a woman. Perhaps, it was that at the time that the LGBT community was far less divided, more forgiving, and more accepting than today. Perhaps, it was that he/she was really a she trapped in the wrong body.

One thing I learned from her is that people see exactly what they want to see. Pre surgery, Miranda took me to The Magic Castle in LA for my birthday. She wasn’t fooled too often in the close up sleight of hand room. Later in the evening, we bumped into the magician she’d inadvertently made sweat. He asked how she knew his tricks and if she was a magician herself. She smiled sweetly and said, “Yes, in a way. You think I’m a woman don’t you?” She hugged the stunned magician and thanked him for an impressive show.

I wondered at the time if the knowledge that people see what they want to see, was why she was so good in business negotiations.

The difference I see now, versus then is that the Trans community today is very much in everybody’s face. They’re apparently angry and hostile and I don’t get why.

The Trans people I’ve known in years past weren’t angry, they were kind and gentle spirits. They were in intense counseling, not to make them be something they were not. But to make sure that they fully understood all the ramifications and risks. They were the people most in-touch with their feelings. They’d put in the time to understand themselves. They’d done all this work prior to beginning the hormones and transition because at the time, it was one of those things that you only got one shot at. They also had very realistic expectations about what they’d look like afterwards.

Some Trans people just aren’t that pretty or believable when they’re done. Back in the day, if the outcome wasn’t going to be a good one, a surgeon might simply refuse.

It makes no sense to take a decent looking man or woman and turn them into someone that will never be happy with the results of the transition surgery. Why modify someone that’s already lonely but has a shot at dating, perhaps love, into someone that is unattractive and has no shot at dating or happiness? Doctors used to take an oath to do no harm. Lately I’ve begun to wonder if the oath they take today is set to Pink Floyd’s Money.

I mean really, would you date Rachel Levine? It’s not necessarily about age, even Lia Thomas looks much better as a male than as a female. In Thomas’s case artful surgery might make him somewhat appealing as a woman but he’ll always have the proportions of a man.

In this time of gender fluidity or non-binary sexuality it seems that folks aren’t thinking that way. What future will an ugly, angry, old, Transgender have? What ever happened to honestly estimating/evaluating the outcome of a surgical procedure?

Why don’t surgeons say, “You’re too masculine / feminine for me to make you look like the opposite gender. Your hips are too narrow or wide, your shoulders are too broad or narrow, your face is too characteristically male or female. We can do this surgery if you insist, but my professional opinion is I don’t think you’ll be happy with the results.”

The same could be said of tattoo artists. If a tattoo is the first part of a large piece, say a tattoo sleeve, then isn’t it incumbent on the artist to tell the client a particular tattoo isn’t going to work in the sleeve?

I’d really appreciate a tattoo artist telling me something like, “This isn’t going to work, let me see if I can redesign it so that it fits better with the whole piece. Come back in a week and I’ll show you some options,” I’d appreciate the thoughtfulness and concern.

Instead, what we seem to have is, “let me prescribe some puberty blockers or hormones for a while and let’s see how you feel.”

Having lived for a long time as a Bi man, I found that while my sexuality is non-binary, my gender very much is.

I searched for love and found it. I don’t and didn’t care what gender package that love was wrapped up in. Arguably, I’m far more comfortable with another man but I’ve never excluded the possibility that I might find an equally loving relationship with a woman.

Looking back, I loved Mark/Miranda. (She claimed she didn’t want to change the monograms on the towels. I think it was that Miranda or ‘Miri’ was an uncommon name and it’s as pretty as she was.) I wasn’t in a place where I was ready for commitment or marriage, She was. That doesn’t discount the fact that it was the person, not necessarily the gender that I cared for.

I throughly enjoyed our time together and yes, loved him/her in both genders.

The point is, you don’t just wake up one day and declare you’re a woman or man arbitrarily. Just saying you’re Trans doesn’t give you the right to play dress up just because you want to mess with people. Drs handing out hormone therapy or puberty blockers as though it’s not a big deal, to people who’ve not done the really hard work involved in counseling and therapy is, in my opinion, a very bad idea.

I’m not Trans. I can’t speak from inside a Trans person’s skin. But I’ve walked alongside a person who was. I’ll never know all the introspection and questioning that Mark did.

I do know it was years in the making and that I came on the scene only in the last few years. When I met Mark, he was content with his choice & still dressing as a man. During the time I knew him he began dressing as Miranda moving toward full transition. He was the most stable, put together, person I’ve known.

When Miranda came home from the sabbatical, during which she had the surgeries and recuperation, she was still the most stable person I knew. She was also the most serene person I’ve ever known.

The same is generally true of the other Trans people that have passed through my life. None of them were hostile, angry, or pushy. They were respected, and conformed to the social norms of the society at large. They were dressed as a specific gender, and acted accordingly. They weren’t about doing bad drag (which has its place,) they were making a very serious life decision that was theirs and theirs alone.

I’d bet Miranda would be at the forefront of demanding parents have a choice in what their children are taught, and when, regarding sexuality. I’m also pretty sure that she’d put a verbal smackdown on anyone who remotely pushed a child toward transitioning or puberty blockers before a child could understand what that really meant.

I suspect Miranda would ironically be called Transphobic by today’s standards.

I can almost hear her laughing about that label, in some activists face.

I don’t know if she’d agree with me about LGB folks distancing themselves from the current Trans community. She might not, and she’d have excellent reasons that she could defend. In the few arguments we had, it was 60% likely that she was right. 40% likely that I was. Her position was always well thought out and backed up with facts.

Even in winning, she was gracious and beautiful. She didn’t rub it in, and she’d hug me when I was crestfallen.

“You can’t be right all the time, settle for half… Do you want something to eat, or would you like to just cuddle,” she’d ask. Id always reply, “I’d feel better about it with both.” She’d just laugh.

I think that Miranda would appreciate my opinion. She might not agree, but she’d see where I was coming from. It’s about being silenced, told what I may and may not say.

It’s about being forced to accept things that I find fundamentally wrong. (Hormones, Puberty blockers, and a rush to transition without doing the work.) Today I can’t even speak that conviction without being labeled or cancelled.

Nowadays, being a part of the LGBT community implies that you agree wholeheartedly with anything and everything Trans. Which makes being a part of that community a complete non-starter for me and many others.

I’d prefer to see an LGB community and a separate Trans community. I’d prefer to see the LGB community support the real Trans community as we used to. With love, acceptance, and the knowledge that our Transitioned brothers and sisters may leave us, not in anger, but to move on with the life they’ve always dreamed of, and deserved.

Miranda… Miri, if by some weird chance you should ever read this, all my love to you and your family. You deserve all the happiness in the world, I’m very glad you’re living the dream you wanted.

Another article filled with the beauty of English…

I stumbled across a new site.

The main site home page is at brownstone.org

While perusing the site and reading I ran across this article from Jan 29th 2022.

It Was All There in the EUA. Why Couldn’t They See it?

The beginning of the article is interesting as it discusses the EUAs for the COVID vaccines. As I read the article, I thought, “Yep, this is a lot like the way I felt…”

Hey, it’s nice to see I wasn’t the only one reading the data and questioning the apparent disconnect between the published material and the endless news cycle.

Where the article really grabbed me was in the section titled.

From Orality to Literacy…And Back Again

The author, Thomas Harrington presents some interesting takes on society and its evolution.

As with any such article, I don’t have to agree with him, but he made me think. I also learned a couple of new words that I honestly don’t recall ever seeing before. For that alone, I am grateful I took the time to read the piece.

It’s been a very long time since I felt I had to have a “real” dictionary at hand.

It’s an even rarer event when I am unable to make a reasonable guess at the meaning of the words used from context within the sentence, or from a words roots.

I found myself smiling as I opened my dictionary and looked up the definitions. Upon reading the meanings I once again found myself marveling at our language and how often there is a single word that conveys an exact meaning, which otherwise might require a paragraph.

Others who take the time to read Harrington’s article may read it and think, “WWDucat is an idiot.” So be it. But at least I’m man enough to admit it and learn new things.

I suspect that when the words I looked up are encountered they’ll be obvious.

There is no shame in pulling out your Webster’s! If you’re like me, you’ll get lost in the beauty of words and language for more than a few minutes.

Have a great day.

Well that’s better!

All systems reporting 95%.

Fever has abated, coughing diminished to small little bouts every couple of hours instead of every couple of minutes. Appetite returning (Got a real hankering for steak!) Intestinal discomfort (don’t ask!) has resolved. Sinuses are clearing. Both knees are showing good. There’s still a little twinge in the left knee signaling caution but it seems that those repairs are mostly complete.

All that’s left is this weird patchy sensitivity on some parts of my skin. The feeling is like a cross between an itch / burning sensation where clothing touches.

If this were Summer I’d be running around naked, or hanging outside in shorts absorbing sunlight, alas it’s too cold for that right now. Nonetheless, the sensation is diminishing as the hours go by.

My head is clearing too. For the past couple of days my thinking has been muddy and I’ve been easily annoyed. Oddly, even technology has been annoying. That’s unusual for me. If I’m ill, technology is my goto. I suppose it allows me to get out of my body and focus on something else.

Whatever this bug was, it muddied my thought processes enough that I couldn’t effectively communicate with tech.

Whether this was a cold or the dreaded and always fatal Omicron, (sarcasm intended!) My immune response has adapted and destroyed the invader. Much like human immune systems have been doing automatically for millions of years.

No matter how you slice it, our bodies are marvels.

I wasn’t gifted with beauty, or height, but apparently I was gifted with durability. 60+ years later and this body keeps on kicking with relatively low maintenance. I’ll take the durability, beauty is so fleeting…

Given my German ancestry I guess I’ve got the VW body. Side note: The older I get, the more finicky my body is getting about fuel and other stuff so now I’m probably less VW, and more BWM or Mercedes.

The other half is still trying to cough up a lung and is, I think, simultaneously relieved that I’m back on-line and jealous that I bounce back pretty fast. They are not so fortunate.

Now in typical fashion, I’m ravenous. Time to go raid the fridge and replenish all the raw materials that I burned fighting this, (whatever it was) off.

My constant nursemaid (the dog) needs some loving attention too. He’s been sleeping close to me and gently checking on me every hour or two in typical dog fashion.

I’d get both my ears sniffed and a lick on the nose. Then he’d lay down again. Every once in a while I’d wake to find a favored toy laid on my chest. I don’t think he was trying to get me to play, I think he was trying to make me feel better the only way he knew how.

The other half says that the dog has been splitting his time between us. I only knew that every time I woke up the dog was there watching me.

An alternative explanation could be that I’ve been on the couch. He might simply have been wondering why I was in his spot. I choose to believe he cared about the pack being sick.

I’m going to get something to eat, then we’re going out in the back yard to play. I’m also going to take the opportunity to do poo patrol. The dog seems to like supervising that activity.

There is an unproven but highly documented, anecdotal, theory in medicine stating attitude and belief sometimes can have as much positive effect as all the drugs in the world. I’d add the dog kisses and nuzzles are just as beneficial.

Biden gets more recognition

#BareShelvesBiden is trending on Twitter.

I didn’t say the recognition was necessarily positive…

The fact that it’s not being censored by twitter is amazing in itself.

Give it time… The Twitter fact checkers will find some reason to shut down the hashtag as misinformation.

What’s happening is people all over the country are taking photos of empty shelves in grocery stores and posting them with #BareShelvesBiden. The fact that it’s trending on the Twitter platform is demonstrative of how wide spread shortages are becoming.

As I said I’m sure the Twitter fact checkers will find some reason to censor it. When they do, it’s possible that a large portions of people will have undeniable proof that Twitter is not the bastion of truth and honesty they believe it is. The real question will be; Are they going to believe their own eyes?


Biden is supposed to give a fiery speech about voter rights in GA today. He’s staunchly opposed to the new GA laws that are designed to prevent potential voter fraud.

He’s opposed to such heinous things as:

Not sending mail in ballots out automatically to all registered voters. A mail in ballot must be requested.
Absentee ballots have a narrower window to be requested, however for voters over 65 once an absentee ballot is requested additional absentee ballots will automatically be sent for the duration of the election cycle.
A voter will have to present ID to vote. If a voter doesn’t have a driver’s license, there are alternate methods of providing ID, A voter ID card, for example and other methods beyond that.
Limitations on the number of voter drop boxes.

Apparently this is all racist voter suppression. I’m still unclear how it’s racist or voter suppression because these seem like fairly benign rules. Then again I’m an uneducated hayseed with no concept of how the “real” world works.

Apparently Biden thinks that him giving a speech in GA is going to help congress push their voter protection act.


Biden and his handlers haven’t yet learned that his speeches usually have the opposite intended effect. There will always be people that hang on Biden’s every word. But I think the majority of folks that bother to tune into his speeches are more interested in the tragic comedy of his gaffes.

I don’t think the price we’ve paid as a nation to free ourselves from “Mean Tweets” was worth it. On the other hand I’m glad Biden is The President.

I can think of no one who better exemplifies the failure of both political parties. In the rarified atmosphere of Washington DC politics If Joe Biden was the best they could do, we have much larger problems.

Sure, the Democratic Party shoved this dementia riddled old fossil down our throats, but the Republican Party has sat idly by and taken no action to remove him for incompetence. Both parties are content to continue their masturbatory hearings while the country “burns” so to speak. Both parties are like greedy parasites hungrily gorging, oblivious to the fact that their host is dying.

It’s entirely likely that in the midterms we’re going to see a Democrat rout. Generally speaking, people are seriously upset with the way things are going. I suspect that the Republicans may also see an unexpected turnover in their congressional ranks as well. People are just as pissed off about their inaction.

I wonder if we’ll see wailing and gnashing of teeth and endless recount demands after the midterm election. It will be interesting if recount demands and accusations of fraud come from both sides.


One of my Grandfathers said, “I hate all politicians. They’re liars, thieves, and corrupt to their core. I think the way to keep them in check, because we unfortunately need them, is to find the most corrupt two or three every year and hang them on the steps of the capital building. That would maybe serve as a reminder to the rest of ’em. On the other hand, it could just make ’em a lot more clever in their thievery.”

Grandpa was born in 1902. He was a plain spoken man. He was polite, but didn’t suffer fools or criminals. He was a lifelong Democrat and union member. He’d give you the shirt off his back if you asked, and were in need, but he’d beat you to death if you just tried to take something without asking.

He was a finished carpenter, as he and his neighbors aged and retired you could always find Grandpa anywhere in the neighborhood by following the sound of hammering. For as long as he was able, he repaired steps, doors, and windows, built ramps to peoples homes if needed, mended fences, or whatever. He did this without charge and was quite content if someone made him dinner or a nice pie as compensation. Some of his neighbors would do the maintenance on Grandpa’s car in exchange for his carpentry skills. He loved building things.

He was also incredibly hard on squirrels when we were hunting.

That’s an inside family joke. Several of us were hunting deer with Grandpa. It had been a bad day, and we were heading back to camp empty handed and depressed. As we rounded a curve on the trail, there was a very large squirrel in a tree. Grandpa just couldn’t go back empty handed. So he raised he rifle and fired. Grandpa forgot that his gun was loaded for deer not squirrel.

The poor creature exploded. Grandpa stood there for a second then said, “Damn! The meat is spoiled,” he shouldered his rifle and continued walking back to camp. For several years after that he’d go to the hunting camp with us but he wouldn’t join us in the hunt. He’d stay at the camp keep the fire stoked and the coffee hot. He’d be prepared to help us dress the meat if our hunt was successful and offer solace if our hunt wasn’t.

It seems that Grandpa concluded he was dangerous, since he’d forgotten something basic like what ammo was in his gun. He’d go to shooting ranges with us, and enjoyed target shooting but obliterating that squirrel signaled to him that his hunting days were past.

Grandpa accepted the limitations of advancing years with grace and humility.

So in the family, references to being hard on squirrels has much deeper and loving meaning. All of us who were with Grandpa that day smile and remember Grandpa fondly. The story has been passed to the next generation. Those who didn’t know Grandpa remember him through the story. He’s forever woven into the beautiful colorful fabric of our little tribe.


Joe Biden, and a lot of the other fossils in Congress need someone to tell them, “You’re really hard on squirrels,” though I suspect that they’re far too arrogant to accept the lesson.

That’s really a pity.

In my family, being told that, means you’re loved. It’s someone telling you, “we’ve got your back, we’ll take care of you right to the end, because you’re valuable to us. So rest easy Elder, ask us for whatever you need you’ll not go wanting, hungry, or alone.”

Maybe if more families thought that way, things would be better all around.

There’s security in that. It’s a feeling that I’m fortunate to have.

Have the “Woke” & Transgendered Folks killed porn?

I’d say yep!

Well, they helped for sure.

There used to be some great porn being produced. I’ve got a bit of a collection, but oddly I haven’t added to that collection in quite a while.

There’s just not much of interest these days. A lot of the venerable porn production companies are (or were) located in California.

Over the past few years, I’ve been seeing fewer movies and a lot more compilations from old films being repackaged as “New” movies.

There used to be a lot of good productions that dealt with subjects such as bondage and domination. The current crop of films isn’t nearly as entertaining. It’s like now the directors and script writers are worried about offending someone.

The beauty of porn was that it offended some people. Those who were offended had a simple choice, continue watching and be offended OR turn it off.

There have been porn movies I’ve seen that were totally not my particular cup of tea. Did I whine about it? Nope! I exercised my god given right to find something else to watch.

I’ve seen some newer movies where the female or male wasn’t what they initially appeared to be. These movies are not my cup of tea. So I found something else to watch.

There’s just something about a female who disrobes and has tits and a dick. It’s not like I’m transphobic, it’s just that I don’t find that erotic. I feel like I’ve been the victim of bait and switch and it totally kills the mood I was going for.

I’ve also noticed that a lot of the old production companies now appear to be owned by one or two conglomerates, this is having a homogenizing effect on the movies that are being produced.

There aren’t, for instance many older performers. The entire cast seems to top out at 22. In some cases this is perfectly fine, but I personally have a tough time maintaining a suspension of disbelief when a 20 something male is being called “daddy” or is supposed to be some kind of dominant macho leather stud.

I mean no disrespect to the actor, but honestly, a guy that young hasn’t lived it and it shows. His balls have barely dropped.

The females too, are so young. I have a tough time believing they’re experienced enough to know what they’re doing or actually enjoying it. In the back of my mind I’m wondering things like, “how could she be so experienced? Was she abused?” Then the mood is killed because I’m thinking about that.

In Bi or Gay porn there’s the same problem. All the dudes look like they’re boys not men and I start thinking paternally again.

I’ve also noticed that a lot of the performers I used to look for, aren’t making films with any frequency either. That could be a function of them tiring of the industry, or age, or ageism, but it’s become obvious they’re missing from the scene.

This particular phenomena caught my attention because it was so sudden. Almost like a light switch being flipped.

The porn printing industry (books and the like) also seems to be dying. I know from the warning labels on some of the books I’ve looked at, that an author now has to identify every single act.

“This book may contain Penetrative acts, bondage, forced sex, rape, torture, descriptions of prostitution, kidnapping, etc, etc, etc.”

This list is long and tedious. It’s obvious that the publishers are seemingly afraid of anything that might be uncomfortable for a percentage of the readership to read. To that end they’re creating the equivalent of trigger warning labels.

Come On! Get a grip!

The beauty of a book is that if something is too intense, you can skip ahead. Pornographic stories are NOT supposed to be taken as anything serious. It’s not like they’re an instruction manual, they’re fantasy.

Here’s a sex instruction manual I put together off the top of my head.

Step one, obtain consent.
Step two, become intimate and stimulate your partner.
Step three, remove articles of clothing as desired or needed and continue with touching or other stimulation.
Step four, oral stimulation may be applied to any part of the body, to heighten the arousal state.
Step five gently explore sensitive orifices with whatever genitalia is available if desired. Substitution of tongue, or digits is allowable.
Step six, scream, yell, grunt, as orgasm occurs
Step seven, lie in each others arms… Smoke if you’ve got ’em.
Step eight, Repeat as necessary.

Even this basic manual is skewed toward the multi-gendered so as not to offend.

The Original manual was much simpler.

Step one, Kiss kiss kiss.
Step two, lick, lick, lick.
Step three (optional) suck, suck, suck.
Step four, thrust, thrust, pump, pump.
Step five, Smoke if ya got ’em. Repeat as necessary.

A pornographic story takes these basic notions and expands on the possibilities in a safe fantasy. Most of the stuff written in pornographic stories are wild and outlandish. They’re things or situations that you’d never try in real life. But through the magic of human imagination we can experience these outlandish activities in a safe simulation space within our own heads.

Why on earth would an adult looking to purchase and read a pornographic novel need a warning label?

“Daddy’s Dungeon” as a title pretty much tells you what you’re getting into. The cover art is also a really good tell tale.

If there’s any question you can read the synopsis. Most of the time these days, you can even read a sample online. Back in the day, in an adult bookstore you’d flip to some random pages and read the action. Then you’d make a decision to buy the book or not.

As a male, I’d flip to a chunk of the story, read a bit, and decide based on the swelling in my crotch if the book was worthy of my hard earned money.

OMG! I might just have offended someone with my CIS gendered appreciation of my erectile pleasure!

That’s the problem! The majority of men that I know, enjoy and derive deep satisfaction from our erections. There are however a fractional percentage of folks that find that glorious feeling uncomfortable. These people have decided that since THEY don’t enjoy it… NO ONE should.

To that end, they’ve become a vocal minority who are mucking up one of the single best, basic, and free thing that people do.

Screw!

Then they’ve gone on to destroy even the release offered by sexual fantasy.

Here’s a thought. You do you, and I’ll take care of me.