Wednesday, November 22, 2017

My Glorious Sissy-Unapproved Death Wish

Riding my brand new motorcycle in the rain without a helmet down the twisting jungle road that leads to my university is clearly life threatening, but less so than your regular assisted suicide that your regular Euro-sissy regularly insists you have a right to. So, I'm clearly within my rights. As I speed past palm trees and sugar plantations, I thank God that Mexico is the kind of place that offers fewer safety helmets but more wind in your hair. My beloved mother is dead. I sure as hell don't want any politico presuming to take her place, whether offering the ruler to spank or the breast to suck.

I have access to better breasts (and better spankings). The soft pillow that cushions my back on my sweet ride is Laura, who studies biotech at the university every day and allows me to study her biotechnology every night. We have a deal. She can say no to sex, but then she gets it two times, so she has some choice in the matter, but I still get to be the ravaging jaguar that makes our romance a little dangerous without her having to read lame novels like The Horny High School Vampire Trilogy or Fifty Shades of Gay.

Laura's an oppressed woman. If I ever let the hottie catch her breath, she might leave me for a better man, so the hot engine vibrating her thighs and cool wind whipping her hair is all the exhilaration I can give her during daylight hours. I'm not asking readers to feel sorry for me. However, checks made out to the Lyn Fuchs Home For Wayward Girls will produce more smiles than that bureaucratic nightmare Save The Children and elicit more sighs than that bleeding heart Make A Wish Foundation. We can't offer uranium like Hillary Clinton's charity, but we offer much better karma, and you'll never get a newsletter with a photo of me in a pantsuit.

Back to my other fine ride. It's not just about the journey or the destination. The transport matters as well. The world looks different on a motorcycle, an airplane, or a fit pair of legs. As David Cassidy's spirit cruises into the next life on the Partridge Family bus, he may look lame to some, but his multi-colored ride symbolized the freedom of the open road to his generation. Another 70s artist Steve Miller got to the heart of what our travels are really about: "I wanna fly like an eagle to the sea. Fly like an eagle and let my spirit carry me. I wanna fly like an eagle till I'm free."

Terrestrial journeys are awesome but never truly satisfy, because the spirit hungers for a higher realm that can only be reached by the journey we fear to take. Yet, take it we will. Whether you're riding on a motorcycle with no helmet or on a hospital bed with every life-extending accoutrement, you've got a ticket to ride. The only choice you make is whether to enjoy that ride. That's a decision I've already made, and to the others who live with gusto I say: "It's a pleasure to share the road!"

Wednesday, November 8, 2017

Horny Harvey and Steamy Beastiality

My first taste of steamy hot beastiality took place at the home of archaeologist Ann Cyphers on the very site where humans first tasted steamy hot chocolate. I probably need to explain that statement. Near Texistepec, Veracruz, Mexico lie the ruins of the first city in the Americas, where Olmec shamanic leaders drank cocoa then smashed their cups to dedicate the settlement. That party made history.

Friday, October 27, 2017

Wanted: University Teachers and Aspiring Authors

My university in Oaxaca, Mexico is seeking to expand its fine communication department by hiring two new instructors for February of 2018. This is one of the most secure and rewarding teaching opportunities in all Latin America. The main responsiblity is equipping warm, funny, and humble students with English communication skills during three one-hour classes each weekday. Our instructors are allowed to use the rest of their workday authoring travel stories and magazine articles. Teachers are assisted in getting their work published and are provided an office on our lovely campus to inspire their maximum creativity.

Monday, September 25, 2017

Stephen King Gets IT Right

The new film version of Stephen King's novel It captivates viewers with adorable children and horrible apparitions, but the real demons that torment kids are clearly identified, despite the cryptic title. The spawn from hell are broken dysfunctional families (and they are legion). Russian novelist Leo Tolstoy put it thus: "All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."

Thursday, September 7, 2017

Washing the Blood Off My Hands

I've had blood on my hands twice in 24 hours. I was dining last night with author Rick Skwiot in a Brazilian churrascaria when the first blood spilled. We were just finishing our salads. I dipped broccoli, carrots, tomatoes and mushrooms in succulent olive oil swirled with balsamic vinegar, which looked like the separated red cells and plasma that flowed from the spear piercing of the crucified Jesus. Rick queried about the wine list for more sangre de cristo, but they offered only Sangre de Toro. Not good enough to wash away sins, but good enough to wash away the memory of sins.

Monday, July 31, 2017

Curvaceous Rides and Straight Razors

We weave and whirl amidst shaggy green mountains. Fern-draped springs cascade on the left and bottomless cliffs drop off on the right. We’re flung back and forth. A gray squiggle highway ascends the knobby spine of the Americas through dense Sierra Norte wilderness. Our van abruptly halts.

Friday, July 7, 2017

Exploring a Jungle Devoid of Wild Animals

Nothing smells as fresh and fertile as cool rain in the jungle - except for my woman, but we are not discussing her right now. Dripping and cascading from every direction, rinsing and polishing the leaves to a shiny vibrant green from the treetops downward. A rainforest canopy is Doctor God's version of an oxygen tent. I'm a lucky permanent resident in this sanitarium.

Friday, June 30, 2017

A Declaration of Liberating Dependence

Since no man is an island entire of itself, the July 4th American Declaration of Independence cannot have been absolute, but rather declared a certain type of independence that people must understand correctly to ever celebrate correctly. Beer and BBQ ain't near enough. Like my mother's ancestor Benjamin Franklin, I've thrown in my lot with uncouth savages in a brave new world (the Mexican jungle), so I know a little about giving up refined society for liberty and I want to help others have a bold American heart regardless of where your butt may currently reside. Can ya dig it?

Friday, June 16, 2017

Maybe America Should Just Divorce

California and New York (or Sodom and Gomorrah as they're called by their Christian names) are a different world from middle America, and it may be time for the barely united states to divorce over irreconcilable differences. This could be a good thing. I'll never forget the day a Bible belt woman told me that she didn't know where I could find a pub and wouldn't help me locate the devil's brew if she did. Okay, sorry I asked. Nor the night when a festival crowd in my native California glared at me as an irredeemable hater, because I softly declined a transgender's bullying insistence to dance. Unity isn't always desirable or possible.