She reached out to unbuckle my belt with her hands. Her clumsy attempts eventually led to success, followed by her unzipping my pants and wiggling them down to my ankles. I thought briefly of sitting down, but I was midway between the kitchen and living room, and understood that this would require me to waddle awkwardly a few feet until I found an appropriate piece of furniture. continue reading »
There was a substantial period of time in my life where I told myself that I wanted to be a director/film producer. I tried making short films and random video clips – mostly for my own amusement. While I was living in Dallas, I had a great roommate, who is still one of my closest friends, Ian. He and I made a few short films, much to his aversion. Eventually after developing a few random skits, I decide to do a short film about how crappy it was to live in our apartment complex, Ashwood Park. The video below is a trailer for the film. It stars Ian, myself, and our good friends Cyrus and Gareth. I shot it with a 3.2 megapixel camera. I never finished the film. I still want to direct. continue reading »
One. Everyone who did not include their address when they emailed blog@subtledig.com for the free shit needs to send another email with their full mailing address. That is, of course, if you want some random Life at 160 crap. continue reading »
I can put my hands on her hips right?
I think I will.
Alright, alright, she’s responding positively.
At least she hasn’t punched me yet.
For a moment, she stood in reflective silence, before turning her eyes to mine, “Is that a problem?”
Though my comically exaggerated self-image forces me to assume that bedding any female is merely a drink and a smirk away, it wasn’t until this moment that Jamie’s intentions were acutely perceptible. And though I covet every woman possessing even a modicum of beauty, there was a special kind of treachery associated with this lay. This was a betrayal that would require me to accept my callous masquerade as something significantly more genuine. continue reading »
I know I just did a post about racism directed towards me. It pains me to have to do another one — this time directed towards our president, Barack Obama.
I was waiting in the lobby of my dermatologist (getting a new prescription for Propecia – I am slowly balding) the other morning, when a rather large, hill-billyesque man walked in, speaking at an indecent decibel for a Wednesday morning on his cell phone. I was playing Words With Friends on my iPhone, so I didn’t look up until I heard him laughing and grunting noisily. He signed in with the receptionist and started pacing back and forth, talking with someone about a shipment of pipes or something that had been delayed thus put some project of his on hold. continue reading »
Women are a strange breed. Especially the one I picked up over the weekend. She may have been the stupidest girl I have ever put my dick inside, which is quite an amazing accomplishment, considering some of her competition for that spot. I almost feel bad for her, but I guess it’s hard to have much sympathy for a girl who was having the time of her life. It’s like the manically happy retarded kid, shitting himself with laughter over the most inane and boring things. I mean, it would suck…except he never stops smiling and probably enjoys himself a hell of a lot more than you or anyone you know. continue reading »
An audacious knock on my door interrupted my transport mission – a perilous journey from my kitchen to my bar, carrying as many bags of frozen, organic vegetables as could fit in my arms. I moved to my door without considering first completing the journey, leaned against the door, and peered through the peephole. Though the building has emergency lights that automatically illuminate in the case of a power outage, I could not ascertain the identity of the female standing at my door. continue reading »
