As all my followers well know, The Chief is always asking the tough questions about our world. For example, how do sexual harassment policies work in adult film production companies? I realize that’s a hard one to think about, but just try. You never know what you’ll come up with!
I will now refrain from posting anything for the rest of the weekend.
Filed under Wolf Tales
Why can’t I move? I just can’t move! It’s like I’m glued to this bed. With the VCR playing. VCR? And a porn video. Really? At this time of…what time is it?
I have no idea what’s going on. Why am can’t I move? What stupid video is playing? On a VCR?! I didn’t know I had a TV in my bedroom. Why the fuck can’t I move?!
And – oh, what the hell! There’s a naked man standing over there! Who the – ?! Who is he?! Who are you?! Standing here in my bedroom! Butt-ass naked! What the – ?!
At some other time, that would be a fantasy come to life. O the start of some cheesy porn film. Speaking of porn…what the hell is going on here?!
What’s happening?!
I can’t believe this!
I can’t move!
I’m stuck here in my own bed! What the fuck is that all about?! Why can’t I move?!
I mean…
That’s utterly terrifying.
Imagine that.
You’re in your own bed – and you can’t fucking move!
What else could go wrong?
I have enough shit in my life.
Now this!
I can’t move!
In my own bed!
I’m thirsty.
Great. I’m thirsty, while laying down, and I can’t get up. What else can go wrong?
It’s hot in here.
Thirsty and warm.
And stuck in my own bed.
A porn movie playing – on a VCR.
Naked man standing against the wall.
He’s not even looking at me. Come on, dude! You’re in my bedroom – sans clothes – and you don’t have the decency to look at me?!
How rude!
I can’t move!
Why can’t I move?
What is going on here?
I’m struggling…squirming…practically bouncing up and down in my own bed.
Trying to get up.
To move.
What’s going on?
Why do I feel paralyzed?
In my own bed.
What an awful feeling.
How is there a TV in my bedroom?
I didn’t move a TV in my bedroom.
With a VCR player.
A VCR!
Aha!
Okay…finally. I can move.
What the – ?
Okay, I can move.
Wow.
What was that all about?
Okay…fully awake now.
Wow.
My head is hurting.
Okay…what was that all about?
Why did I have that…dream?
I guess.
That’s what it was…right?
A dream.
I don’t know.
I can’t tell.
So weird.
What was that all about?
Why couldn’t I move?
A porn film!
On a VCR!
I don’t have a TV in my bedroom!
What was that?!
Why did that happen?
Why couldn’t I even move?
In my own bed!
What was that all about?
Who was that man?
And why is he still here in my bedroom?
Lying on the floor!
Dead.
Filed under Wolf Tales
When I earned my English degree from Ellis University – then part of the New York Institute of Technology – one issue frequently discussed was the veracity of sources. In the old days (e.g. before Google), people conducting research on essays and theses had to drag themselves to a notable library and scour catalog files for appropriate resource materials. Along with physically going to said library, carting armloads of books and binders could be considered a bodybuilding class.
But, at Ellis, one source NOT considered valid is Wikipedia. It’s one of those ubiquitous Internet sites – kind of like online ads for pillows, vibrating toothbrushes and butt paste. A number of my fellow writers and bloggers have referenced Wikipedia. However, in vicariously perusing some Wikipedia entries, I’ve noticed the site itself will note – in vibrant red or blue lettering – that some items need further clarification or verification. Supposedly Wikipedia is a generic, quick-pick type of site; a place – much like a cafeteria – where people can choose whatever they want to consume. Therefore, it’s not considered a valid archive of information.
A while back I came across the name of an adult film model who went by the name Belladonna. Her real name is Michelle Sinclair, and she entered the world of porn in 2000 at the age of 19. I actually remember seeing her on an ABC News special hosted by Diane Sawyer several years ago. I found Belladonna interesting because she chose to dye her natural blonde hair black. In an industry where fair-haired vixens seem to rule, this was somewhat (forgive me) refreshing.
But, in looking her up on – where else? – the Internet, I came across her Wikipedia entry and zeroed in on a peculiar statement: ‘She thought she had contracted herpes in 2002…it was later discovered that it was a skin rash…’.
For some ungodly (read: perverted) reason, I found that unbelievably hysterical! The flippant nature of that specific verbiage – how it’s worded – jump-started my laugh meter. If anything, it proved what higher education has already declared: you can’t trust Wikipedia that much.
Now place that “skin rash” statement in the context of other situations:
Is that mole really melanoma?
Naw, it’s just a skin rash.
Did a spider bite you?!
Calm down! It’s just a skin rash.
You still have all those bruises from the pool party?
No, they’re just skin rashes.
That bee sting must have hurt like hell!
Oh no! It’s just a skin rash.
Are you pregnant?
God no, mother! I just have a skin rash.
That looks like such an awful sunburn.
Calm down, boss! It’s just a skin rash.
Please feel free to devise your own predicaments that include a “skin rash”.
Filed under Curiosities
Chief Writing Wolf 