Eh, what the hell...a few of my nude pics are up again just for any desperate, last-minute masturbation attempts by you ladies (or guys, conceivably; or neither). I might as well go out in useless vanity (it works well with the nature of the site).
To whom it may concern, I'm attempting to add a slew of friends before I fade away for no apparent reason at all except that you are FEMALE and in SAN FRANCISCO, and I am MALE and in SAN FRANCISCO. I'm sure that we have other important complementary differences and similarities that make us perfect for each other, but there's no need to go into them now. Perhaps we will find out about them later. Or perhaps I will simply fade away, never to exist on SG again.
Anyways, you've got 5 days left to snag the hottest import from Iowa since Ashton Kutcher. Unlike Mr. Kutcher, however, I have talent (though of a musical rather than a dramatic sort). If you would like to hear my music, you may visit http://www.myspace.com/jedwardgoldman
Sorry--I took my nude pics off recently in a fit of frustration. I'm sure they would have helped you decide if I am indeed a hot import (but I'd be happy to send them to you all, personally--as if a hot, hairy guy is exactly what you need right now).
Contact me or I will die (of course, I will anyway).
The race begins...
Anyways, you've got 5 days left to snag the hottest import from Iowa since Ashton Kutcher. Unlike Mr. Kutcher, however, I have talent (though of a musical rather than a dramatic sort). If you would like to hear my music, you may visit http://www.myspace.com/jedwardgoldman
Sorry--I took my nude pics off recently in a fit of frustration. I'm sure they would have helped you decide if I am indeed a hot import (but I'd be happy to send them to you all, personally--as if a hot, hairy guy is exactly what you need right now).
Contact me or I will die (of course, I will anyway).
The race begins...
I can't decide whether or not I'll miss having access to this fucking site. It's a bit of a love/hate relationship I have with it. On the one hand, I love the seemingly endless array of unconventional, hip pornography (although the more I look at all the sundry photosets--most of which try to be original and, ultimately, end up following a very similar, increasingly prosaic pattern that is of little aesthetic value--the more they all begin looking the same to me). And, on the other hand, I hate nearly every other aspect of the site to some degree (the journals, the albums, the groups, the format, etc...I guess they just don't work well with my personality--what can I say?). But I am a MAN, and I do, as Trent Reznor once put it, want "to fuck everyone in the world" (and particularly you hot-ass, exhibitionistic suicide girls), and I suppose that I fancied this site as a possible means of meeting one or two of you goddesses in San Francisco, which appears to be one of the hubs of SG. However, I exerted very little effort, failed in the few efforts that I did make (e.g., goddamn you Bliss--I loved your chihauhau!), and quickly lost interest. How sad. Or, rather, how real. Real fucking typical of my online personal life. Boo-hoo.
Eh--almost ANY girl can look hot in a picture, given the right angle, lighting, clothes, setting, and whatnot. But how many of you are actually hot in real life? Certainly not as many of you as there are hot photosets. And most of you are no better physically than the girls I've already had in my life and will surely have in the future. It's just the photography, the context, and the spectacle of the site that makes me feel otherwise (under the influence of my erection). And then there are those of you SGs that are fucking gorgeous, and, of course, would probably be doing some more lucrative modeling if you didn't look so 'freaky'. YOU I will probably never have (unless I drasticly alter who I am and get some stupid fucking 'bod mods', which will never happen). Do any of you care? No. Do I care? Not really.
Hence I salute all of you Suicide (please...don't do it!) Girls. Goodbye and good riddance. And thanks for being naked for me (and the rest of the world) for only a nominal fee. The pictures will live on on my hard drive.
Eh--almost ANY girl can look hot in a picture, given the right angle, lighting, clothes, setting, and whatnot. But how many of you are actually hot in real life? Certainly not as many of you as there are hot photosets. And most of you are no better physically than the girls I've already had in my life and will surely have in the future. It's just the photography, the context, and the spectacle of the site that makes me feel otherwise (under the influence of my erection). And then there are those of you SGs that are fucking gorgeous, and, of course, would probably be doing some more lucrative modeling if you didn't look so 'freaky'. YOU I will probably never have (unless I drasticly alter who I am and get some stupid fucking 'bod mods', which will never happen). Do any of you care? No. Do I care? Not really.
Hence I salute all of you Suicide (please...don't do it!) Girls. Goodbye and good riddance. And thanks for being naked for me (and the rest of the world) for only a nominal fee. The pictures will live on on my hard drive.
Alright, ladies...there's only 28 days left of the possibility of contacting the man behind all of this goodness you see before you. That's right: j. edward will be discontinuing his membership to this lovely site after only 3 months of ungodly self-abuse and failed attempts to contact emotionally unavailable Suicide Girls (you KNOW that I loved you with all my HEART!) due to the imminent arrival of better fucking things to do with his time.
Yes, this site is a waste of my time, although I'm sure that meeting some of you people in person and discussing God, death, love, time, words, images, sounds, etc. would be delightful and highly worthwhile. I just hate sitting in front of a computer for hours upon end and never producing anything of intellectual or artistic merit, but merely lustfully indulging in my porn addiction by staring at pictures of girls with funny hair colors, strange piercings, and extremely-ridiculous-to-really-fucking-sexy-and-cool tattoos that make me want to pull my dick off or bite myself in the nipple or smack myself in the face or something.
It's a fun vice, but I would like to ween myself off of it, seeing as it's hardly enhancing my being-in-the-world (that's right, folks--Heidegger) or doing any of that intersubjective-type stuff that ol' Merleau-Ponty and Levinas like to talk about so much (and, oh, how I want to immerse myself in the "flesh of the world"!). Basically, you--whomever you might be--have a little less than a month to say hi, start a conversation, arrange to meet with me, fuck my brains out, dis the shit out of me, argue, download my hairy, sexy-ass pics, rock my world, or whatever the hell you want to do with/to me (perhaps nothing at all...). That's it. The clock is ticking. Choose your j.edwardian fate. One way or another, you will have one (whether marked by somethingness or nothingness; realization, or the lack thereof). The gravity...the nauseating feeling of freedom with regard to these possibilities; I know it's rough. But so is life, my friend.
Yes, this site is a waste of my time, although I'm sure that meeting some of you people in person and discussing God, death, love, time, words, images, sounds, etc. would be delightful and highly worthwhile. I just hate sitting in front of a computer for hours upon end and never producing anything of intellectual or artistic merit, but merely lustfully indulging in my porn addiction by staring at pictures of girls with funny hair colors, strange piercings, and extremely-ridiculous-to-really-fucking-sexy-and-cool tattoos that make me want to pull my dick off or bite myself in the nipple or smack myself in the face or something.
It's a fun vice, but I would like to ween myself off of it, seeing as it's hardly enhancing my being-in-the-world (that's right, folks--Heidegger) or doing any of that intersubjective-type stuff that ol' Merleau-Ponty and Levinas like to talk about so much (and, oh, how I want to immerse myself in the "flesh of the world"!). Basically, you--whomever you might be--have a little less than a month to say hi, start a conversation, arrange to meet with me, fuck my brains out, dis the shit out of me, argue, download my hairy, sexy-ass pics, rock my world, or whatever the hell you want to do with/to me (perhaps nothing at all...). That's it. The clock is ticking. Choose your j.edwardian fate. One way or another, you will have one (whether marked by somethingness or nothingness; realization, or the lack thereof). The gravity...the nauseating feeling of freedom with regard to these possibilities; I know it's rough. But so is life, my friend.
MY PICS SECTION NOW CONTAINS NUDE PHOTOS OF ME (OH MY GOD!!!). Check them out--that is, if you can stand extreme levels of arousal...
Journals fucking suck. Especially online journals or blogs. Who gives a shit about everyone's little day-to-day thoughts, activities, emotions, etc.? Well, let me rephrase: Who gives a shit about MOST people's trivial little journal entries? I don't. But I must admit that I do care about some girls' journal entries if there happen to be naked pictures of them right beside 'em and they're fucking hot. Hot, naked girls--and what they have to say--can be peculiarly interesting. But perhaps only as embrodery around their nudity.
Well, no...I do care about what suicide girls have to say, despite the fact that I'm far more interested in their photosets (and not just so that I can attempt to locate exactly where in California they are--c'mon SF!). I find all sorts of people interesting, whether I'm paying to see their bodies naked or not. It's just that I hate the whole idea of putting one's prosaic, daily shit online for the whole world to see, as if the mere act of posting something online makes its content any more worthwhile. I don't know if it's self-aggrandizement or a desire to connect or to express oneself or what, but online journaling tends to either annoy me or bore me to death. Though the suicide girls' journals do allow me to imagine them out in the real world, doing this and that, frolicking about in all their hotness. And I can't complain about that.
So don't expect me to post much of anything here (I'm it sure it will break your heart). However, I may put up some nude pics just to show all you SF and Nor Cal girls--who have somehow failed to drop me a line--just what you're missing out on. I'm just about the hottest import from Iowa since Ashton Kutcher. And I'm not an idiot (yeah, he's a fucking idiot; I don't care what you've heard about him being SOooo smart...just look at his filmography)! I'm smart. See...watch me perform deductive reasoning:
P1: If Jake is hot AND smart, then suicide girls (or members thereof) will contact Jake.
P2: Jake is hot AND smart.
. :. Therefore, suicide girls (or members thereof) will contact Jake.
Believe me, the premises of this argument are valid, and the reasoning is sound. If you wish to question my premises or logic, then I would be happy to prove to you the hotness of my body in person and to engage you in some sort of deductive reasoning game involving the assertion of arbitrary, somewhat silly premises so as to deduce the necessity of removing certain articles of clothing and participating in certain sex acts. Or we could just chat. Let me know.
Well, no...I do care about what suicide girls have to say, despite the fact that I'm far more interested in their photosets (and not just so that I can attempt to locate exactly where in California they are--c'mon SF!). I find all sorts of people interesting, whether I'm paying to see their bodies naked or not. It's just that I hate the whole idea of putting one's prosaic, daily shit online for the whole world to see, as if the mere act of posting something online makes its content any more worthwhile. I don't know if it's self-aggrandizement or a desire to connect or to express oneself or what, but online journaling tends to either annoy me or bore me to death. Though the suicide girls' journals do allow me to imagine them out in the real world, doing this and that, frolicking about in all their hotness. And I can't complain about that.
So don't expect me to post much of anything here (I'm it sure it will break your heart). However, I may put up some nude pics just to show all you SF and Nor Cal girls--who have somehow failed to drop me a line--just what you're missing out on. I'm just about the hottest import from Iowa since Ashton Kutcher. And I'm not an idiot (yeah, he's a fucking idiot; I don't care what you've heard about him being SOooo smart...just look at his filmography)! I'm smart. See...watch me perform deductive reasoning:
P1: If Jake is hot AND smart, then suicide girls (or members thereof) will contact Jake.
P2: Jake is hot AND smart.
. :. Therefore, suicide girls (or members thereof) will contact Jake.
Believe me, the premises of this argument are valid, and the reasoning is sound. If you wish to question my premises or logic, then I would be happy to prove to you the hotness of my body in person and to engage you in some sort of deductive reasoning game involving the assertion of arbitrary, somewhat silly premises so as to deduce the necessity of removing certain articles of clothing and participating in certain sex acts. Or we could just chat. Let me know.
