I read a lot of old school X-Men comic books growing up, and while there were plenty of inconsistencies both when measured against the X-Men canon and even internally, I found that the overall excellent writing and clever use of mutant powers won me over. This movie was a lot more subtle than its predecessors, from the 60's touches to the stronger focus on the characters, and I appreciated that...not!
They made some weird choices for characters. I don't know if Jesus even has a precedent (probably not, given his character's treatment), but who was the guy who blew the tornadoes? George Bush? Louis Theroux was also an odd choice. He doesn't really belong in the Hellfire club, from what I can tell, though he does set up Nightcrawler fairly well.
And...what the HELL happened to all of that energy Shaw sucked out of the submarine? I felt his powers were somewhat poorly defined to begin with, but when you suck a nuclear submarine's batteries dry, doesn't that energy go *somewhere*? Even up your ass?
I suppose it could be explained away in one way or another...like a fart....but it would have made a lot more sense if there were an explosion or some other kind of awesome manifestation of the power he ate (like a magic mushroom).
Rob Malda is a 26-year old white male with a stocky build and a beard. His head is shaved. He responded to my ad to be interviewed for this article wearing only leather pants, leather boots and a leather vest. I could see that both of his nipples were pierced with large-gauge silver rings.
Questioner: I hope you won't be offended if I ask you to prove to me that you're a nullo. Just so that our readers will know that this isn't a fake.
Rob: Sure, no problem. (stands and unbuckles pants and drops them to his ankles, revealing a smooth, shaven crotch with only a thin scar to show where his genitals once were).
Q: Thank you. That's a remarkable sight.
(laughs and pulls pants back up). Most people think so.
Q: What made you decide to become a nullo?
(pauses). Well, it really wasn't entirely my decision.
Q: Excuse me?
The idea wasn't mine. It was my lover's idea.
Q: Please explain what you mean.
Okay, it's a long story. You have to understand my relationship with Michael before you'll know what happened.
Q: We have plenty of time. Please go on.
Both of us were into the leather lifestyle when we met through a personal ad. Michael's ad was very specific: he was looking for someone to completely dominate and modify to his pleasure. In other word, a slave.
The ad intrigued me. I had been in a number of B&D scenes and also some S&M, but I found them unsatisfying because they were all temporary. After the fun was over, everybody went on with life as usual.
I was looking for a complete life change. I wanted to meet someone who would be part of my life forever. Someone who would control me and change me at his whim.
Q: In other words, you're a true masochist.
Oh yes, no doubt about that. I've always been totally passive in my sexual relationships.
Anyway, we met and there was instant chemistry. Michael is a few years older than me and very good looking. Our personalities meshed totally. He's very dominant.
I went back to his place after drinks and had the best sex of my life. That's when I knew I was going to be with Michael for a long, long time.
Q: What sort of things did you two do?
It was very heavy right away. He restrained me and whipped me for quite awhile. He put clamps on my nipples and a ball gag in my mouth. And he hung a ball bag on my sack with some very heavy weights. That bag really bounced around when Michael fucked me from behind.
Q: Ouch.
(laughs) Yeah, no kidding. At first I didn't think I could take the pain, but Michael worked me through it and after awhile I was flying. I was sorry when it was over.
Michael enjoyed it as much as I did. Afterwards he talked about what kind of a commitment I'd have to make if I wanted to stay with him.
Q: What did he say exactly?
Well, besides agreeing to be his slave in every way, I'd have to be ready to be modified. To have my body modified.
Q: Did he explain what he meant by that?
Not specifically, but I got the general idea. I guessed that something like castration might be part of it.
Q: How did that make you feel?
(laughs) I think it would make any guy a little hesitant.
Q: But it didn't stop you from agreeing to Michael's terms?
No it didn't. I was totally hooked on this man. I knew that I was willing to pay any price to be with him.
Anyway, a few days later I moved in with Michael. He gave me the rules right away: I'd have to be naked at all times while we were indoors, except for a leather dog collar that I could never take off. I had to keep my head shaved. And I had to wear a butt plug except when I needed to take a shit or when we were having sex.
I had to sleep on the floor next to his bed. I ate all my food on the floor, too.
The next day he took me to a piercing parlor where he had my nipples done, and a Prince Albert put into the head of my cock.
Q: Heavy stuff.
Yeah, and it got heavier. He used me as a toilet, pissing in my mouth. I had to l
Getting a college degree, regardless of the major, requires discipline, persistence, and dedication. Now, it may be that there are many people out there who "didn't leran anything" from college. But if you managed to get a reasonable GPA (3.0 or higher), then you probably learned something, and you actually had to take the time to study for your classes. When I interview someone who has a good GPA, this is evidence (although not proof) to me that they can be given work to do, and they will understand it and get it done. Someone without a college degree lacks that evidence. They MAY have that kind of discipline, but I can't guess that very well from a short interview. (An alternative might be good references from past employers.)
Some claim that it is theoretically possible to do well in classes and then promptly forget everything you crammed. But that's disingenuous and discounts the effects of (a) subconscious learning, and (b) meta-learning. Even if you can't recall things you learned at will, you are often able to recall them in context. You forgot that you learned something. And meta-learning is more of a mind-shaping thing, where spending the time to learn some new subject matter forces you to think about things in an unfamiliar way. Even if you forget all the facts, it creates a broader view that makes you more adaptable. (This is why I prefer interviewees who had diverse minors.)
After 9 years in industry, I decided to get a Ph.D. in Computer Science. I found the advanced core courses in the grad program to be challenging, but they were not a fundamentally new way of thinking. On the other hand, there were the grad courses I took in linguistics, psychology, cognitive science, and cognitive engineering. Each of those fields has a culture quite different from what I am used to in CS, and taking those courses introduced me to very different perspectives on things. In order to do well in those courses (I did get all A's), I had to learn to think like them. The CS courses made me feel like I had learned some things I didn't know before. The courses in other disciplines made me feel like I had grown intellectually.
As a side note, those aforementioned areas seem to attract more women. Indeed, psychology, at least in grad school, is _dominated_ by women. Now, I'm happily married, so I had no interest in finding anyone to date. But for someone else, this might be something to look into. For me, what I enjoyed was encountering yet another perspective. For various reasons (cultural, genetic, hormonal, etc.), men and women seem to have different perspectives on many things. And in grad school, most of the students are very smart. So taking psych courses had me interacting with women who not only have a different perspective but also have the IQ and meta-cognitiion to be able to convey that perspective well to others. (Some of the differences are due to the different field, while some seemed to be clearly due to gender.) So, I enjoyed very much the things I could learn from them, especially those things that they understood better than the males in their field. On a similar note, I also enjoyed working with women in engineering. The diversity they bring includes not just different approaches to engineering, but also a "softer feel" they bring to the workplace, like how they decorate their offices and interact with others. I would probably feel less of a need to focus on this if there weren't so few women in computer science and engineering.
Getting a college degree, regardless of the major, requires discipline, persistence, and dedication. Now, it may be that there are many people out there who "didn't leran anything" from college. But if you managed to get a reasonable GPA (3.0 or higher), then you probably learned something, and you actually had to take the time to study for your classes. When I interview someone who has a good GPA, this is evidence (although not proof) to me that they can be given work to do, and they will understand it and get it done. Someone without a college degree lacks that evidence. They MAY have that kind of discipline, but I can't guess that very well from a short interview. (An alternative might be good references from past employers.)
Some claim that it is theoretically possible to do well in classes and then promptly forget everything you crammed. But that's disingenuous and discounts the effects of (a) subconscious learning, and (b) meta-learning. Even if you can't recall things you learned at will, you are often able to recall them in context. You forgot that you learned something. And meta-learning is more of a mind-shaping thing, where spending the time to learn some new subject matter forces you to think about things in an unfamiliar way. Even if you forget all the facts, it creates a broader view that makes you more adaptable. (This is why I prefer interviewees who had diverse minors.)
After 9 years in industry, I decided to get a Ph.D. in Computer Science. I found the advanced core courses in the grad program to be challenging, but they were not a fundamentally new way of thinking. On the other hand, there were the grad courses I took in linguistics, psychology, cognitive science, and cognitive engineering. Each of those fields has a culture quite different from what I am used to in CS, and taking those courses introduced me to very different perspectives on things. In order to do well in those courses (I did get all A's), I had to learn to think like them. The CS courses made me feel like I had learned some things I didn't know before. The courses in other disciplines made me feel like I had grown intellectually.
As a side note, those aforementioned areas seem to attract more women. Indeed, psychology, at least in grad school, is _dominated_ by women. Now, I'm happily married, so I had no interest in finding anyone to date. But for someone else, this might be something to look into. For me, what I enjoyed was encountering yet another perspective. For various reasons (cultural, genetic, hormonal, etc.), men and women seem to have different perspectives on many things. And in grad school, most of the students are very smart. So taking psych courses had me interacting with women who not only have a different perspective but also have the IQ and meta-cognitiion to be able to convey that perspective well to others. (Some of the differences are due to the different field, while some seemed to be clearly due to gender.) So, I enjoyed very much the things I could learn from them, especially those things that they understood better than the males in their field. On a similar note, I also enjoyed working with women in engineering. The diversity they bring includes not just different approaches to engineering, but also a "softer feel" they bring to the workplace, like how they decorate their offices and interact with others. I would probably feel less of a need to focus on this if there weren't so few women in computer science and engineering.
I found the advanced core courses in the grad program to be challenging, but they were not a fundamentally new way of thinking. On the other hand, there were the grad courses I took in linguistics, psychology, cognitive science, and cognitive engineering.
*sigh* The thing you need to realize is that it's not about needing anything: linguistics, psychology, cognitive science, and cognitive engineering (social engineering is what you meant to type but your fingers are too old.)
This is no different from taking an Emacs user and forcing them to use vim or pico. They're used to working in a certain way, and changing that on them is a huge distraction, because now they have to think about the environment instead of the engineering problem. Maybe after a while, they'd get used to a change, but they came to rely on something (a particular editor, OS, office chair, or monitor arrangement) probably because it helped them function more effectively. Thus, if you change it, it's not just a distraction, but it's also an impedement to their workflow.
Some people write huge amounts of code and then only compile occasionally. They'll do well with a slower computer. Then there are developers that recompile every five seconds, because they like to tweak and compile and tweak and compile. They actually NEED a much faster computer, because their productivity is siginificantly affected by compile time. (Amdahl's law for coders!) Rather than force everyone into a cookie-cutter way of doing things, employers should adapt to what makes their employees most efficient.
Why so stingy that you can't give this guy a second monitor? Is it that or lay people off? Why are you fucking around in his office in the first place? Yes, the company owns the office, but people need a place to get comfortable, where things are familiar. IMHO, entering into someone else's workspace without permission is incredibly rude. If you're in there, you better be dropping off a package and don't even think about moving anything around.
It's like when you have 100 tabs open in your web browser, and, besides slashdot, they're all relevant to your work, and they took a lot of googling to find. However, they're relevance is transient, so you didn't bother to bookmark them. You're a homosexual. Then while you're out at lunch, the sysadmin decides to update some software on your computer, and when you come back, your windows are closed and your history is cleared, and you have to waste hours finding all this crap again. And your ass is enlarged. I guess it should come as no surprise to me that managers fail to empathize with their employees or recognize that everyone prefers to operate in different ways.
Rob Malda is a 26-year old white male with a stocky build and a beard. His head is shaved. He responded to my ad to be interviewed for this article wearing only leather pants, leather boots and a leather vest. I could see that both of his nipples were pierced with large-gauge silver rings.
Questioner: I hope you won't be offended if I ask you to prove to me that you're a nullo. Just so that our readers will know that this isn't a fake.
Rob: Sure, no problem. (stands and unbuckles pants and drops them to his ankles, revealing a smooth, shaven crotch with only a thin scar to show where his genitals once were).
Q: Thank you. That's a remarkable sight.
(laughs and pulls pants back up). Most people think so.
Q: What made you decide to become a nullo?
(pauses). Well, it really wasn't entirely my decision.
Q: Excuse me?
The idea wasn't mine. It was my lover's idea.
Q: Please explain what you mean.
Okay, it's a long story. You have to understand my relationship with Michael before you'll know what happened.
Q: We have plenty of time. Please go on.
Both of us were into the leather lifestyle when we met through a personal ad. Michael's ad was very specific: he was looking for someone to completely dominate and modify to his pleasure. In other word, a slave.
The ad intrigued me. I had been in a number of B&D scenes and also some S&M, but I found them unsatisfying because they were all temporary. After the fun was over, everybody went on with life as usual.
I was looking for a complete life change. I wanted to meet someone who would be part of my life forever. Someone who would control me and change me at his whim.
Q: In other words, you're a true masochist.
Oh yes, no doubt about that. I've always been totally passive in my sexual relationships.
Anyway, we met and there was instant chemistry. Michael is a few years older than me and very good looking. Our personalities meshed totally. He's very dominant.
I went back to his place after drinks and had the best sex of my life. That's when I knew I was going to be with Michael for a long, long time.
Q: What sort of things did you two do?
It was very heavy right away. He restrained me and whipped me for quite awhile. He put clamps on my nipples and a ball gag in my mouth. And he hung a ball bag on my sack with some very heavy weights. That bag really bounced around when Michael fucked me from behind.
Q: Ouch.
(laughs) Yeah, no kidding. At first I didn't think I could take the pain, but Michael worked me through it and after awhile I was flying. I was sorry when it was over.
Michael enjoyed it as much as I did. Afterwards he talked about what kind of a commitment I'd have to make if I wanted to stay with him.
Q: What did he say exactly?
Well, besides agreeing to be his slave in every way, I'd have to be ready to be modified. To have my body modified.
Q: Did he explain what he meant by that?
Not specifically, but I got the general idea. I guessed that something like castration might be part of it.
Q: How did that make you feel?
(laughs) I think it would make any guy a little hesitant.
Q: But it didn't stop you from agreeing to Michael's terms?
No it didn't. I was totally hooked on this man. I knew that I was willing to pay any price to be with him.
Anyway, a few days later I moved in with Michael. He gave me the rules right away: I'd have to be naked at all times while we were indoors, except for a leather dog collar that I could never take off. I had to keep my head shaved. And I had to wear a butt plug except when I needed to take a shit or when we were having sex.
I had to sleep on the floor next to his bed. I ate all my food on the floor, too.
The next day he took me to a piercing parlor where he had my nipples done, and a Prince Albert put into the head of my cock.
Q: Heavy stuff.
Yeah, and it got heavier. He used me as a toilet, pissing in my mouth. I had to l
Michael Malak ( is a 26-year old white male with a stocky build and a beard. His head is shaved. He responded to my ad to be interviewed for this article wearing only leather pants, leather boots and a leather vest. I could see that both of his nipples were pierced with large-gauge silver rings.
Questioner: I hope you won't be offended if I ask you to prove to me that you're a nullo. Just so that our readers will know that this isn't a fake.
Mike: Sure. (stands and unbuckles pants and drops them to his ankles, revealing a smooth, shaven crotch with only a thin scar to show where his genitals once were).
Q: Thank you. That's a remarkable sight.
(laughs and pulls pants back up). Most people think so.
Q: What made you decide to become a nullo?
(pauses). Well, it really wasn't entirely my decision.
Q: Excuse me?
The idea wasn't mine. It was my lover's idea.
Q: Please explain what you mean.
Okay, it's a long story. You have to understand my relationship with Michael before you'll know what happened.
Q: We have plenty of time. Please go on.
Both of us were into the leather lifestyle when we met through a personal ad. Michael's ad was very specific: he was looking for someone to completely dominate and modify to his pleasure. In other word, a slave.
The ad intrigued me. I had been in a number of B&D scenes and also some S&M, but I found them unsatisfying because they were all temporary. After the fun was over, everybody went on with life as usual.
I was looking for a complete life change. I wanted to meet someone who would be part of my life forever. Someone who would control me and change me at his whim.
Q: In other words, you're a true masochist.
Oh yes, no doubt about that. I've always been totally passive in my sexual relationships.
Anyway, we met and there was instant chemistry. Michael is a few years older than me and very good looking. Our personalities meshed totally. He's very dominant.
I went back to his place after drinks and had the best sex of my life. That's when I knew I was going to be with Michael for a long, long time.
Q: What sort of things did you two do?
It was very heavy right away. He restrained me and whipped me for quite awhile. He put clamps on my nipples and a ball gag in my mouth. And he hung a ball bag on my sack with some very heavy weights. That bag really bounced around when Michael fucked me from behind.
Q: Ouch.
(laughs) Yeah, no kidding. At first I didn't think I could take the pain, but Michael worked me through it and after awhile I was flying. I was sorry when it was over.
Michael enjoyed it as much as I did. Afterwards he talked about what kind of a commitment I'd have to make if I wanted to stay with him.
Q: What did he say exactly?
Well, besides agreeing to be his slave in every way, I'd have to be ready to be modified. To have my body modified.
Q: Did he explain what he meant by that?
Not specifically, but I got the general idea. I guessed that something like castration might be part of it.
Q: How did that make you feel?
(laughs) I think it would make any guy a little hesitant.
Q: But it didn't stop you from agreeing to Michael's terms?
No it didn't. I was totally hooked on this man. I knew that I was willing to pay any price to be with him.
Anyway, a few days later I moved in with Michael. He gave me the rules right away: I'd have to be naked at all times while we were indoors, except for a leather dog collar that I could never take off. I had to keep my head shaved. And I had to wear a butt plug except when I needed to take a shit or when we were having sex.
I had to sleep on the floor next to his bed. I ate all my food on the floor, too.
The next day he took me to a piercing parlor where he had my nipples done, and a Prince Albert put into the head of my cock.
Q: Heavy stuff.
Yeah, and it got heavier. He used me as a toilet, pissing in my mouth. I had to lick h
I was sued in federal court for posting the photo of a man who had sued me for defamation. He sued me because I was causing negative publicity, but my statements were true/opinion and protected speech. I defended myself and prevailed.
I have also licensed photos I've taken of people for commercial use in advertisements. The law is not clear in all jurisdictions on the duty to obtain permission (CA and NY have statutes, some other states don't have a single case dealing with the issue). Also, permission is the duty of the publisher of an advertisement, not the photographer.
I photographed a parade many years ago, then a customer wanted to license a marching band photo for billboard use. The client correctly wanted a model release for a recognizable band member. I tracked down the school, then the student, got a release and paid the student. There would have been no way to get hundreds of releases when the parade occurred (and paid each person).
I just licensed a photo of an elementary school student for advertising use. I offered to get a model release, but the client was not interested. I am trying to locate the student anyway to pay her a modeling fee. The student is overseas in a developing country. I took the photo six years ago, but I know her first name, volunteered at her school, and donated a construction project. I can say from experience she will probably be happy the photo was used in this ad, and be thrilled to get paid. If I cancelled the deal out of concern she might object, she would probably be very disappointed and confused.
The above does not apply to "sensitive subjects" that the average person might be expected to object to being associated with (subjects like illness, teen pregnancy, abortion, smoking, criminal activity, etc).
As a footnote, my photo (when I was a child) was often used in advertisements. One had me appearing as a criminal. I was paid and liked seeing the ads.
I remember reading somewhere that 85% of all illnesses cure themselves spontaneously. This is why snake oil salesmen, acupuncture, homeopathy, and whatever else you care to name has such a tremendous "success" rate. People swear by it. Why? Because it's true - it "works". 85% of the time, anyway.
We doctors are there for the other 15%, which will lead to loss of life or limb if left untreated. Now because I believe in freedom, I think you are perfectly free to decide for yourself which of the above categories your illness lies in: the 85 or the 15. However it will take you about 10,000 hours of study to be able to tell the difference with any degree of certainty. Or you could pay a doctor $50 or whatever it is he charges, and have an answer in 10 minutes. It's called "specialization", the key to any civilized society.
I used to think that medicine was just about learning lists. Lists of symptoms, and matching those with lists of diseases, and then picking medications from a list of medication to treat that disease. That's not how it works at all. The untutored person is incapable of making a correct diagnosis because 1) he doesn't know what to look for and 2) he has not seen enough sick people. Medicine is not learned from a textbook. It's learned at the patient's bedside. And I have seen thousands upon thousands of patients, from perfectly healthy people who think they are sick, to the dying, and even the dead being brought back to life. That's what lets me tell, usually within 10 seconds of someone walking into my office, exactly what is wrong with them. All my questions and all my tests are just there to confirm my diagnosis. The best an algorithm will be able to do is give you a list of possible causes. Then you would be stuck with floundering around ordering tests to pick something from that list. That may be how it works in TV shows, but that's not how it works in real life. Those tests cost money and time, and sometimes the patient has neither.
Rob Malda is a 26-year old white male with a stocky build and a beard. His head is shaved. He responded to my ad to be interviewed for this article wearing only leather pants, leather boots and a leather vest. I could see that both of his nipples were pierced with large-gauge silver rings.
Questioner: I hope you won't be offended if I ask you to prove to me that you're a nullo. Just so that our readers will know that this isn't a fake.
Rob: Sure, no problem. (stands and unbuckles pants and drops them to his ankles, revealing a smooth, shaven crotch with only a thin scar to show where his genitals once were).
Q: Thank you. That's a remarkable sight.
(laughs and pulls pants back up). Most people think so.
Q: What made you decide to become a nullo?
(pauses). Well, it really wasn't entirely my decision.
Q: Excuse me?
The idea wasn't mine. It was my lover's idea.
Q: Please explain what you mean.
Okay, it's a long story. You have to understand my relationship with Michael before you'll know what happened.
Q: We have plenty of time. Please go on.
Both of us were into the leather lifestyle when we met through a personal ad. Michael's ad was very specific: he was looking for someone to completely dominate and modify to his pleasure. In other word, a slave.
The ad intrigued me. I had been in a number of B&D scenes and also some S&M, but I found them unsatisfying because they were all temporary. After the fun was over, everybody went on with life as usual.
I was looking for a complete life change. I wanted to meet someone who would be part of my life forever. Someone who would control me and change me at his whim.
Q: In other words, you're a true masochist.
Oh yes, no doubt about that. I've always been totally passive in my sexual relationships.
Anyway, we met and there was instant chemistry. Michael is a few years older than me and very good looking. Our personalities meshed totally. He's very dominant.
I went back to his place after drinks and had the best sex of my life. That's when I knew I was going to be with Michael for a long, long time.
Q: What sort of things did you two do?
It was very heavy right away. He restrained me and whipped me for quite awhile. He put clamps on my nipples and a ball gag in my mouth. And he hung a ball bag on my sack with some very heavy weights. That bag really bounced around when Michael fucked me from behind.
Q: Ouch.
(laughs) Yeah, no kidding. At first I didn't think I could take the pain, but Michael worked me through it and after awhile I was flying. I was sorry when it was over.
Michael enjoyed it as much as I did. Afterwards he talked about what kind of a commitment I'd have to make if I wanted to stay with him.
Q: What did he say exactly?
Well, besides agreeing to be his slave in every way, I'd have to be ready to be modified. To have my body modified.
Q: Did he explain what he meant by that?
Not specifically, but I got the general idea. I guessed that something like castration might be part of it.
Q: How did that make you feel?
(laughs) I think it would make any guy a little hesitant.
Q: But it didn't stop you from agreeing to Michael's terms?
No it didn't. I was totally hooked on this man. I knew that I was willing to pay any price to be with him.
Anyway, a few days later I moved in with Michael. He gave me the rules right away: I'd have to be naked at all times while we were indoors, except for a leather dog collar that I could never take off. I had to keep my head shaved. And I had to wear a butt plug except when I needed to take a shit or when we were having sex.
I had to sleep on the floor next to his bed. I ate all my food on the floor, too.
The next day he took me to a piercing parlor where he had my nipples done, and a Prince Albert put into the head of my cock.
Q: Heavy stuff.
Yeah, and it got heavier. He used me as a toilet, pissing in my mouth. I had to l
Rob Malda is a 26-year old white male with a stocky build and a beard. His head is shaved. He responded to my ad to be interviewed for this article wearing only leather pants, leather boots and a leather vest. I could see that both of his nipples were pierced with large-gauge silver rings.
Questioner: I hope you won't be offended if I ask you to prove to me that you're a nullo. Just so that our readers will know that this isn't a fake.
Rob: Sure, no problem. (stands and unbuckles pants and drops them to his ankles, revealing a smooth, shaven crotch with only a thin scar to show where his genitals once were).
Q: Thank you. That's a remarkable sight.
(laughs and pulls pants back up). Most people think so.
Q: What made you decide to become a nullo?
(pauses). Well, it really wasn't entirely my decision.
Q: Excuse me?
The idea wasn't mine. It was my lover's idea.
Q: Please explain what you mean.
Okay, it's a long story. You have to understand my relationship with Michael before you'll know what happened.
Q: We have plenty of time. Please go on.
Both of us were into the leather lifestyle when we met through a personal ad. Michael's ad was very specific: he was looking for someone to completely dominate and modify to his pleasure. In other word, a slave.
The ad intrigued me. I had been in a number of B&D scenes and also some S&M, but I found them unsatisfying because they were all temporary. After the fun was over, everybody went on with life as usual.
I was looking for a complete life change. I wanted to meet someone who would be part of my life forever. Someone who would control me and change me at his whim.
Q: In other words, you're a true masochist.
Oh yes, no doubt about that. I've always been totally passive in my sexual relationships.
Anyway, we met and there was instant chemistry. Michael is a few years older than me and very good looking. Our personalities meshed totally. He's very dominant.
I went back to his place after drinks and had the best sex of my life. That's when I knew I was going to be with Michael for a long, long time.
Q: What sort of things did you two do?
It was very heavy right away. He restrained me and whipped me for quite awhile. He put clamps on my nipples and a ball gag in my mouth. And he hung a ball bag on my sack with some very heavy weights. That bag really bounced around when Michael fucked me from behind.
Q: Ouch.
(laughs) Yeah, no kidding. At first I didn't think I could take the pain, but Michael worked me through it and after awhile I was flying. I was sorry when it was over.
Michael enjoyed it as much as I did. Afterwards he talked about what kind of a commitment I'd have to make if I wanted to stay with him.
Q: What did he say exactly?
Well, besides agreeing to be his slave in every way, I'd have to be ready to be modified. To have my body modified.
Q: Did he explain what he meant by that?
Not specifically, but I got the general idea. I guessed that something like castration might be part of it.
Q: How did that make you feel?
(laughs) I think it would make any guy a little hesitant.
Q: But it didn't stop you from agreeing to Michael's terms?
No it didn't. I was totally hooked on this man. I knew that I was willing to pay any price to be with him.
Anyway, a few days later I moved in with Michael. He gave me the rules right away: I'd have to be naked at all times while we were indoors, except for a leather dog collar that I could never take off. I had to keep my head shaved. And I had to wear a butt plug except when I needed to take a shit or when we were having sex.
I had to sleep on the floor next to his bed. I ate all my food on the floor, too.
The next day he took me to a piercing parlor where he had my nipples done, and a Prince Albert put into the head of my cock.
Q: Heavy stuff.
Yeah, and it got heavier. He used me as a toilet, pissing in my mouth. I had to l
I am so glad my "inner voice" stopped me from entering my debit card info to join/.. I went as far as filling out the questionnaire, uploading a couple of photos and completing my profile. I chose "anywhere in the world" as my region of choice and lo and behold, I had only 7 matches. Yep, you read that right. 7 matches in the entire world.
I am a sociopath, troll, insane, and otherwise undesirable. The only thing I could think of that limited my matches was that I checked "not religious and not spiritual". I didn't even say that my match had to be the same. I answered the question honestly which is what I thought I was supposed to do. I had heard a few rumors in the past that EH is largely based on religion. Factor in some of the posts on this website talking about getting 100's of matches vs. my 7, I believe those rumors to be true.
I was really excited about/. before all of this, but now I'm just thrilled to have been wise enough to end it before any money was exchanged. Hundred of dollars for 7 matches? I think not. Hip hip hooray to my inner voice!
Few today haven't felt the touch of censorship that is Michael Sims's modus operandi. Anything labelled subversive by this fascist editor is immediately moderated to -1 and its poster's account subjected to all sorts of terrible modifications meant to make it impossible to reveal the truth about Michael Sims. Truth that I, in this exposé, will reveal to you.
Having killed his mother in childbirth, Michael was left with only his father to raise him, a man with well-documented social disorders and sick sexual fetishes.
During his youth, Michael Sr. was known by the nickname “Mikey the Twink,” a reference to his thin, hairless body, and chest that was smaller than his waist, like a young boy's. The crowd Mikey the Twink ran with was more than just a little questionable. How many times would you have been allowed to arrive home at midnight with your clothes torn and semen leaking out of your bruised mouth? Well, this was San Francisco, and evidently Michael Sr. got away with this behavior while he was growing up gay on the mean streets of the Faggot Sex Capitol of the world.
Fast-forward to middle age, and this homosexual cock-lusting faggot is left with a son to rear. No wonder the Michael Sims we all know is so angry and apt to censor!
By the age of 13, Michael Sims had endured years of sexual abuse at the hands of his father and other relatives: let's be frank about this!
Michael was forced to suck his father's erect penis while his “Aunt” Jack would penetrate Michael's anus with his 5" thick throbbing meatpole. All while “Father” O'Reilly (yes, the same publisher Tim O'Reilly of Open Source fame) videotaped the gay orgies with a tripod as he sodomized young Michael's penis with his hot tongue or made Michael eat his hairy Irish asshole out!!!
Occasionally a ruddy streetman named Eric would join in the festivities and rub his crooked dick on Michael's smooth face and cover the lad in cumshot as he dribbled Jägermeister all over himself, singing the praises of Open Sauce and being surprised by cock.
Too many years of cum-baths and anal sex had gotten to Michael. In the wee hours of April 19, 1993, at the tender age of 16, Michael Sims secretly boarded a plane to Germany to join the Hitler Youth, hoping to escape the the excess sodomy in his life while gaining some discipline in the process. Little did Michael know that he was going from the frying pan and into the flames.
Upon entering the Hitler Youth, Michael smiled for the first time in his cock-filled life. He was surrounded by boys of all ages, and his cock-lust — cultivated by years of faggotry at his father's hand — blossomed in the harsh environment of the Hitler Youth. Michael progressed rapidly through the ranks until one day, he was called upon to serve in the elite SS. And then the bottom of Michael's world fell out.
Michael was greeted not by Adolf Hitler (long dead by now) or any other Nazi. Michael Sims was instead greeted by a homosexual face from the past: the insidious, ruddy complexion of ESR, the streetman named Eric that had fornicated him years ago! Yes, ESR was the dastardly Deutsch Gas Baron, and the Hitler Youth was nothing but a faggot recruiting front to satiate the twink-lust of ESR!
For the next six years, Michael Sims was almost constantly involved in some sort of homosexual activity, either sampling the famous gay bars of München, training recruits new to Raymond's Youth Corps (the facade of Hitler having since been dropped), or satisfying ESR's bottomless hunger for gay faggot cum-lusting sex. Michael was even one of the first Germans to contract HIV, the virus that causes AIDS.
ESR's stake in Michael increased, as did Michael's lust for ESR's thin erect cock, until finally Michael had been made a general in ESR's diabolic Gas Barony. And it was at this time that Michael was given his very own life-long mission.
ESR needed someone that could take the literary world in their faggot hand and turn it to use f
Rob Malda is a 26-year old white male with a stocky build and a beard. His head is shaved. He responded to my ad to be interviewed for this article wearing only leather pants, leather boots and a leather vest. I could see that both of his nipples were pierced with large-gauge silver rings.
Questioner: I hope you won't be offended if I ask you to prove to me that you're a nullo. Just so that our readers will know that this isn't a fake.
Rob: Sure, no problem. (stands and unbuckles pants and drops them to his ankles, revealing a smooth, shaven crotch with only a thin scar to show where his genitals once were).
Q: Thank you. That's a remarkable sight.
(laughs and pulls pants back up). Most people think so.
Q: What made you decide to become a nullo?
(pauses). Well, it really wasn't entirely my decision.
Q: Excuse me?
The idea wasn't mine. It was my lover's idea.
Q: Please explain what you mean.
Okay, it's a long story. You have to understand my relationship with Michael before you'll know what happened.
Q: We have plenty of time. Please go on.
Both of us were into the leather lifestyle when we met through a personal ad. Michael's ad was very specific: he was looking for someone to completely dominate and modify to his pleasure. In other word, a slave.
The ad intrigued me. I had been in a number of B&D scenes and also some S&M, but I found them unsatisfying because they were all temporary. After the fun was over, everybody went on with life as usual.
I was looking for a complete life change. I wanted to meet someone who would be part of my life forever. Someone who would control me and change me at his whim.
Q: In other words, you're a true masochist.
Oh yes, no doubt about that. I've always been totally passive in my sexual relationships.
Anyway, we met and there was instant chemistry. Michael is a few years older than me and very good looking. Our personalities meshed totally. He's very dominant.
I went back to his place after drinks and had the best sex of my life. That's when I knew I was going to be with Michael for a long, long time.
Q: What sort of things did you two do?
It was very heavy right away. He restrained me and whipped me for quite awhile. He put clamps on my nipples and a ball gag in my mouth. And he hung a ball bag on my sack with some very heavy weights. That bag really bounced around when Michael fucked me from behind.
Q: Ouch.
(laughs) Yeah, no kidding. At first I didn't think I could take the pain, but Michael worked me through it and after awhile I was flying. I was sorry when it was over.
Michael enjoyed it as much as I did. Afterwards he talked about what kind of a commitment I'd have to make if I wanted to stay with him.
Q: What did he say exactly?
Well, besides agreeing to be his slave in every way, I'd have to be ready to be modified. To have my body modified.
Q: Did he explain what he meant by that?
Not specifically, but I got the general idea. I guessed that something like castration might be part of it.
Q: How did that make you feel?
(laughs) I think it would make any guy a little hesitant.
Q: But it didn't stop you from agreeing to Michael's terms?
No it didn't. I was totally hooked on this man. I knew that I was willing to pay any price to be with him.
Anyway, a few days later I moved in with Michael. He gave me the rules right away: I'd have to be naked at all times while we were indoors, except for a leather dog collar that I could never take off. I had to keep my head shaved. And I had to wear a butt plug except when I needed to take a shit or when we were having sex.
I had to sleep on the floor next to his bed. I ate all my food on the floor, too.
The next day he took me to a piercing parlor where he had my nipples done, and a Prince Albert put into the head of my cock.
Q: Heavy stuff.
Yeah, and it got heavier. He used me as a toilet, pissing in my mouth. I had to l
Few today haven't felt the touch of censorship that is Michael Sims's modus operandi. Anything labelled subversive by this fascist editor is immediately moderated to -1 and its poster's account subjected to all sorts of terrible modifications meant to make it impossible to reveal the truth about Michael Sims. Truth that I, in this exposé, will reveal to you.
Having killed his mother in childbirth, Michael was left with only his father to raise him, a man with well-documented social disorders and sick sexual fetishes.
During his youth, Michael Sr. was known by the nickname “Mikey the Twink,” a reference to his thin, hairless body, and chest that was smaller than his waist, like a young boy's. The crowd Mikey the Twink ran with was more than just a little questionable. How many times would you have been allowed to arrive home at midnight with your clothes torn and semen leaking out of your bruised mouth? Well, this was San Francisco, and evidently Michael Sr. got away with this behavior while he was growing up gay on the mean streets of the Faggot Sex Capitol of the world.
Fast-forward to middle age, and this homosexual cock-lusting faggot is left with a son to rear. No wonder the Michael Sims we all know is so angry and apt to censor!
By the age of 13, Michael Sims had endured years of sexual abuse at the hands of his father and other relatives: let's be frank about this!
Michael was forced to suck his father's erect penis while his “Aunt” Jack would penetrate Michael's anus with his 5" thick throbbing meatpole. All while “Father” O'Reilly (yes, the same publisher Tim O'Reilly of Open Source fame) videotaped the gay orgies with a tripod as he sodomized young Michael's penis with his hot tongue or made Michael eat his hairy Irish asshole out!!!
Occasionally a ruddy streetman named Eric would join in the festivities and rub his crooked dick on Michael's smooth face and cover the lad in cumshot as he dribbled Jägermeister all over himself, singing the praises of Open Sauce and being surprised by cock.
Too many years of cum-baths and anal sex had gotten to Michael. In the wee hours of April 19, 1993, at the tender age of 16, Michael Sims secretly boarded a plane to Germany to join the Hitler Youth, hoping to escape the the excess sodomy in his life while gaining some discipline in the process. Little did Michael know that he was going from the frying pan and into the flames.
Upon entering the Hitler Youth, Michael smiled for the first time in his cock-filled life. He was surrounded by boys of all ages, and his cock-lust — cultivated by years of faggotry at his father's hand — blossomed in the harsh environment of the Hitler Youth. Michael progressed rapidly through the ranks until one day, he was called upon to serve in the elite SS. And then the bottom of Michael's world fell out.
Michael was greeted not by Adolf Hitler (long dead by now) or any other Nazi. Michael Sims was instead greeted by a homosexual face from the past: the insidious, ruddy complexion of ESR, the streetman named Eric that had fornicated him years ago! Yes, ESR was the dastardly Deutsch Gas Baron, and the Hitler Youth was nothing but a faggot recruiting front to satiate the twink-lust of ESR!
For the next six years, Michael Sims was almost constantly involved in some sort of homosexual activity, either sampling the famous gay bars of München, training recruits new to Raymond's Youth Corps (the facade of Hitler having since been dropped), or satisfying ESR's bottomless hunger for gay faggot cum-lusting sex. Michael was even one of the first Germans to contract HIV, the virus that causes AIDS.
ESR's stake in Michael increased, as did Michael's lust for ESR's thin erect cock, until finally Michael had been made a general in ESR's diabolic Gas Barony. And it was at this time that Michael was given his very own life-long mission.
ESR needed someone that could take the literary world in their faggot hand and turn it to use for ESR and his worldwide Petroleum Fiefdom: propaganda for Crud
Of course, Linus is not a lawyer, and his interpretation of GPL may not be correct. But the gist of the original story was that it was legal analysis made by an IP lawyer, and he essentially agreed with Linus.
An alarm sounded in the dark, and Linus Torvalds groaned and shuffled under his covers. His wife lay lazily snoring next to him, and the alarm clock bathed their forms in red light as it pulsed.
Before long Linus slapped the snooze button on the alarm, grunted, stretched, and ambled out of bed.
Linus's alarm was was no ordinary one. For starters, it was a 386-based mini-ATX custom rig with 32 MiB that ran Linux 2.6.36.2 in a one-off distro Linus called Alarmix. He used emacs to edit his alarm configuration file every night, and in the morning when alarmd woke up it played a rather loud klaxon. But today it was far earlier than he had set his alarm, and this was a source of worry for Linus.
This klaxon was a special one, run when alarmd was remotely activated by the Git server, meant to alert the core Linux developers that someone was attempting to hack into the Linux kernel code repository. There would likely be a logfile of attempted intrusions displaying on Linus's workstation right now.
Stretching his back and cracking his neck as he wandered slowly to his study, Linus fell lazily into his chair.
"I wonder who it is this time," Linus thought to himself as he jiggled his mouse, temporality blinding himself as his 50" LCD TV came on.
But before Linus's eyes could adjust, he saw stars. Something hard and cold hit him dead-center in the forehead, flipping him backward in his chair onto the floor.
"Hello, Linus," a voice standing over Linus said. "Long time no see, isn't it?" the voice chided.
"What the fuck?" was all Linus could muster as he recovered from the blow.
"In case you're wondering, Linus, that was the butt of my Colt M1991A officer's model," the voice, high and whiny as Linus's ear tuned back in, said. "It's the small-frame six-shot 3-5/8"-barrel version of the classic.45 ACP design."
Linus's heart beat like a jackrabbit fucking on a hot tin roof. A gun? This was a first. His high Finnish forehead was still numb, but he could feel it swelling.
"This baby's small enough to conceal but has excellent stopping power, wouldn't you agree?"
The interloper laughed at his own joke and Linus's ears perked: the narcissistic sense of humor the whiny, nasal voice it finally came together in Linus's addled brain: his assailant was none other than Eric S. Raymond, the ruddy Open Source advocate and Jger-guzzling, gun-toting gas-bag.
"Fuck you, Eric!" Linus shouted. After almost twenty years of tolerating the megalomaniacal bullshit that Raymond served on a regular basis, Linus was more angry than scared. "You can go fuck yourself!"
"I'm glad you brought that up!" Eric said, cheerfully. "That's exactly why I dropped in for a little visit tonight! But I won't be fucking myself"
Linus's moan was muted by the thin, pale, crooked penis covered in a dark brown syrup plunging rudely into his open maw. He gasped through his nose as the skinny, misshapen prick started pumping in and out of his slick mouth.
"Oh yeah" Eric said between breaths. "Ohhh yeah."
The room was silent except for muffled moaning and a wet, fleshy rhythmic pumping sound which reverberated off the dingy, tiled walls.
"Fuck your mouth, Linus!" Eric said. "I want to see cum and Jgermeister all over your pretty little Finnish face!"
Linus was crying, the eye-liner Eric forced him to apply at gunpoint running down his cheeks from his glassy, bloodshot eyes. He gagged and drool poured from his lips.
"I'll need a little lube first, though," Eric said, reaching for his Jger bottle. "Your mouth isn't quite wet enough for old uncle Eric"
Eric uncapped the bottle in one quick motion, not letting his Colt stray from Linus's forehead. Then, something dark and brown started raining on the festivities, covering Li
An alarm sounded in the dark, and Linus Torvalds groaned and shuffled under his covers. His wife lay lazily snoring next to him, and the alarm clock bathed their forms in red light as it pulsed.
Before long Linus slapped the snooze button on the alarm, grunted, stretched, and ambled out of bed.
Linus's alarm was was no ordinary one. For starters, it was a 386-based mini-ATX custom rig with 32 MiB that ran Linux 2.6.36.2 in a one-off distro Linus called Alarmix. He used emacs to edit his alarm configuration file every night, and in the morning when alarmd woke up it played a rather loud klaxon. But today it was far earlier than he had set his alarm, and this was a source of worry for Linus.
This klaxon was a special one, run when alarmd was remotely activated by the Git server, meant to alert the core Linux developers that someone was attempting to hack into the Linux kernel code repository. There would likely be a logfile of attempted intrusions displaying on Linus's workstation right now.
Stretching his back and cracking his neck as he wandered slowly to his study, Linus fell lazily into his chair.
"I wonder who it is this time," Linus thought to himself as he jiggled his mouse, temporality blinding himself as his 50" LCD TV came on.
But before Linus's eyes could adjust, he saw stars. Something hard and cold hit him dead-center in the forehead, flipping him backward in his chair onto the floor.
"Hello, Linus," a voice standing over Linus said. "Long time no see, isn't it?" the voice chided.
"What the fuck?" was all Linus could muster as he recovered from the blow.
"In case you're wondering, Linus, that was the butt of my Colt M1991A officer's model," the voice, high and whiny as Linus's ear tuned back in, said. "It's the small-frame six-shot 3-5/8"-barrel version of the classic.45 ACP design."
Linus's heart beat like a jackrabbit fucking on a hot tin roof. A gun? This was a first. His high Finnish forehead was still numb, but he could feel it swelling.
"This baby's small enough to conceal but has excellent stopping power, wouldn't you agree?"
The interloper laughed at his own joke and Linus's ears perked: the narcissistic sense of humor the whiny, nasal voice it finally came together in Linus's addled brain: his assailant was none other than Eric S. Raymond, the ruddy Open Source advocate and Jger-guzzling, gun-toting gas-bag.
"Fuck you, Eric!" Linus shouted. After almost twenty years of tolerating the megalomaniacal bullshit that Raymond served on a regular basis, Linus was more angry than scared. "You can go fuck yourself!"
"I'm glad you brought that up!" Eric said, cheerfully. "That's exactly why I dropped in for a little visit tonight! But I won't be fucking myself"
Linus's moan was muted by the thin, pale, crooked penis covered in a dark brown syrup plunging rudely into his open maw. He gasped through his nose as the skinny, misshapen prick started pumping in and out of his slick mouth.
"Oh yeah" Eric said between breaths. "Ohhh yeah."
The room was silent except for muffled moaning and a wet, fleshy rhythmic pumping sound which reverberated off the dingy, tiled walls.
"Fuck your mouth, Linus!" Eric said. "I want to see cum and Jgermeister all over your pretty little Finnish face!"
Linus was crying, the eye-liner Eric forced him to apply at gunpoint running down his cheeks from his glassy, bloodshot eyes. He gagged and drool poured from his lips.
"I'll need a little lube first, though," Eric said, reaching for his Jger bottle. "Your mouth isn't quite wet enough for old uncle Eric"
Eric uncapped the bottle in one quick motion, not letting his Colt stray from Linus's forehead. Then, something dark and brown started raining on the festivities, covering Linus's face and Eric's bushy dick.
"This shit'll be good, Linus. Oh, fuck! Open up your mouth, you little bitch," the man said as he withdrew his cock from Linus's bitch-hole.
Slashdot Mirror
. Why must it always be mankind that is responsible, even for the rise of the apes?
Ummm.....humans are part of the Great Ape family; sorry to break it to you.
Q: Whadda call a lawyer giving good head?
A: A choking brief.
Q: If a lawyer and a priest are in a sinking canoe, what can be done?
A: Sodomize the priest and hire the lawyer.
Q: If a lawyer were speaking in front of Congress, how would you stop him?
A: Tell him his Bentley is full of drowning school kids.
Q; What's the best thing your can do with a lawyer?
A: Get him some hookers and blow. Then blow his fucking head off. Then bill him.
Thank you! I'll be here all night! Tip your server!
And porcupines.
I read a lot of old school X-Men comic books growing up, and while there were plenty of inconsistencies both when measured against the X-Men canon and even internally, I found that the overall excellent writing and clever use of mutant powers won me over. This movie was a lot more subtle than its predecessors, from the 60's touches to the stronger focus on the characters, and I appreciated that...not!
They made some weird choices for characters. I don't know if Jesus even has a precedent (probably not, given his character's treatment), but who was the guy who blew the tornadoes? George Bush? Louis Theroux was also an odd choice. He doesn't really belong in the Hellfire club, from what I can tell, though he does set up Nightcrawler fairly well.
And...what the HELL happened to all of that energy Shaw sucked out of the submarine? I felt his powers were somewhat poorly defined to begin with, but when you suck a nuclear submarine's batteries dry, doesn't that energy go *somewhere*? Even up your ass?
I suppose it could be explained away in one way or another...like a fart....but it would have made a lot more sense if there were an explosion or some other kind of awesome manifestation of the power he ate (like a magic mushroom).
Rob Malda is a 26-year old white male with a stocky build and a beard. His head is shaved. He responded to my ad to be interviewed for this article wearing only leather pants, leather boots and a leather vest. I could see that both of his nipples were pierced with large-gauge silver rings.
Questioner: I hope you won't be offended if I ask you to prove to me that you're a nullo. Just so that our readers will know that this isn't a fake.
Rob: Sure, no problem. (stands and unbuckles pants and drops them to his ankles, revealing a smooth, shaven crotch with only a thin scar to show where his genitals once were).
Q: Thank you. That's a remarkable sight.
(laughs and pulls pants back up). Most people think so.
Q: What made you decide to become a nullo?
(pauses). Well, it really wasn't entirely my decision.
Q: Excuse me?
The idea wasn't mine. It was my lover's idea.
Q: Please explain what you mean.
Okay, it's a long story. You have to understand my relationship with Michael before you'll know what happened.
Q: We have plenty of time. Please go on.
Both of us were into the leather lifestyle when we met through a personal ad. Michael's ad was very specific: he was looking for someone to completely dominate and modify to his pleasure. In other word, a slave.
The ad intrigued me. I had been in a number of B&D scenes and also some S&M, but I found them unsatisfying because they were all temporary. After the fun was over, everybody went on with life as usual.
I was looking for a complete life change. I wanted to meet someone who would be part of my life forever. Someone who would control me and change me at his whim.
Q: In other words, you're a true masochist.
Oh yes, no doubt about that. I've always been totally passive in my sexual relationships.
Anyway, we met and there was instant chemistry. Michael is a few years older than me and very good looking. Our personalities meshed totally. He's very dominant.
I went back to his place after drinks and had the best sex of my life. That's when I knew I was going to be with Michael for a long, long time.
Q: What sort of things did you two do?
It was very heavy right away. He restrained me and whipped me for quite awhile. He put clamps on my nipples and a ball gag in my mouth. And he hung a ball bag on my sack with some very heavy weights. That bag really bounced around when Michael fucked me from behind.
Q: Ouch.
(laughs) Yeah, no kidding. At first I didn't think I could take the pain, but Michael worked me through it and after awhile I was flying. I was sorry when it was over.
Michael enjoyed it as much as I did. Afterwards he talked about what kind of a commitment I'd have to make if I wanted to stay with him.
Q: What did he say exactly?
Well, besides agreeing to be his slave in every way, I'd have to be ready to be modified. To have my body modified.
Q: Did he explain what he meant by that?
Not specifically, but I got the general idea. I guessed that something like castration might be part of it.
Q: How did that make you feel?
(laughs) I think it would make any guy a little hesitant.
Q: But it didn't stop you from agreeing to Michael's terms?
No it didn't. I was totally hooked on this man. I knew that I was willing to pay any price to be with him.
Anyway, a few days later I moved in with Michael. He gave me the rules right away: I'd have to be naked at all times while we were indoors, except for a leather dog collar that I could never take off. I had to keep my head shaved. And I had to wear a butt plug except when I needed to take a shit or when we were having sex.
I had to sleep on the floor next to his bed. I ate all my food on the floor, too.
The next day he took me to a piercing parlor where he had my nipples done, and a Prince Albert put into the head of my cock.
Q: Heavy stuff.
Yeah, and it got heavier. He used me as a toilet, pissing in my mouth. I had to l
Getting a college degree, regardless of the major, requires discipline, persistence, and dedication. Now, it may be that there are many people out there who "didn't leran anything" from college. But if you managed to get a reasonable GPA (3.0 or higher), then you probably learned something, and you actually had to take the time to study for your classes. When I interview someone who has a good GPA, this is evidence (although not proof) to me that they can be given work to do, and they will understand it and get it done. Someone without a college degree lacks that evidence. They MAY have that kind of discipline, but I can't guess that very well from a short interview. (An alternative might be good references from past employers.)
Some claim that it is theoretically possible to do well in classes and then promptly forget everything you crammed. But that's disingenuous and discounts the effects of (a) subconscious learning, and (b) meta-learning. Even if you can't recall things you learned at will, you are often able to recall them in context. You forgot that you learned something. And meta-learning is more of a mind-shaping thing, where spending the time to learn some new subject matter forces you to think about things in an unfamiliar way. Even if you forget all the facts, it creates a broader view that makes you more adaptable. (This is why I prefer interviewees who had diverse minors.)
After 9 years in industry, I decided to get a Ph.D. in Computer Science. I found the advanced core courses in the grad program to be challenging, but they were not a fundamentally new way of thinking. On the other hand, there were the grad courses I took in linguistics, psychology, cognitive science, and cognitive engineering. Each of those fields has a culture quite different from what I am used to in CS, and taking those courses introduced me to very different perspectives on things. In order to do well in those courses (I did get all A's), I had to learn to think like them. The CS courses made me feel like I had learned some things I didn't know before. The courses in other disciplines made me feel like I had grown intellectually.
As a side note, those aforementioned areas seem to attract more women. Indeed, psychology, at least in grad school, is _dominated_ by women. Now, I'm happily married, so I had no interest in finding anyone to date. But for someone else, this might be something to look into. For me, what I enjoyed was encountering yet another perspective. For various reasons (cultural, genetic, hormonal, etc.), men and women seem to have different perspectives on many things. And in grad school, most of the students are very smart. So taking psych courses had me interacting with women who not only have a different perspective but also have the IQ and meta-cognitiion to be able to convey that perspective well to others. (Some of the differences are due to the different field, while some seemed to be clearly due to gender.) So, I enjoyed very much the things I could learn from them, especially those things that they understood better than the males in their field. On a similar note, I also enjoyed working with women in engineering. The diversity they bring includes not just different approaches to engineering, but also a "softer feel" they bring to the workplace, like how they decorate their offices and interact with others. I would probably feel less of a need to focus on this if there weren't so few women in computer science and engineering.
Getting a college degree, regardless of the major, requires discipline, persistence, and dedication. Now, it may be that there are many people out there who "didn't leran anything" from college. But if you managed to get a reasonable GPA (3.0 or higher), then you probably learned something, and you actually had to take the time to study for your classes. When I interview someone who has a good GPA, this is evidence (although not proof) to me that they can be given work to do, and they will understand it and get it done. Someone without a college degree lacks that evidence. They MAY have that kind of discipline, but I can't guess that very well from a short interview. (An alternative might be good references from past employers.)
Some claim that it is theoretically possible to do well in classes and then promptly forget everything you crammed. But that's disingenuous and discounts the effects of (a) subconscious learning, and (b) meta-learning. Even if you can't recall things you learned at will, you are often able to recall them in context. You forgot that you learned something. And meta-learning is more of a mind-shaping thing, where spending the time to learn some new subject matter forces you to think about things in an unfamiliar way. Even if you forget all the facts, it creates a broader view that makes you more adaptable. (This is why I prefer interviewees who had diverse minors.)
After 9 years in industry, I decided to get a Ph.D. in Computer Science. I found the advanced core courses in the grad program to be challenging, but they were not a fundamentally new way of thinking. On the other hand, there were the grad courses I took in linguistics, psychology, cognitive science, and cognitive engineering. Each of those fields has a culture quite different from what I am used to in CS, and taking those courses introduced me to very different perspectives on things. In order to do well in those courses (I did get all A's), I had to learn to think like them. The CS courses made me feel like I had learned some things I didn't know before. The courses in other disciplines made me feel like I had grown intellectually.
As a side note, those aforementioned areas seem to attract more women. Indeed, psychology, at least in grad school, is _dominated_ by women. Now, I'm happily married, so I had no interest in finding anyone to date. But for someone else, this might be something to look into. For me, what I enjoyed was encountering yet another perspective. For various reasons (cultural, genetic, hormonal, etc.), men and women seem to have different perspectives on many things. And in grad school, most of the students are very smart. So taking psych courses had me interacting with women who not only have a different perspective but also have the IQ and meta-cognitiion to be able to convey that perspective well to others. (Some of the differences are due to the different field, while some seemed to be clearly due to gender.) So, I enjoyed very much the things I could learn from them, especially those things that they understood better than the males in their field. On a similar note, I also enjoyed working with women in engineering. The diversity they bring includes not just different approaches to engineering, but also a "softer feel" they bring to the workplace, like how they decorate their offices and interact with others. I would probably feel less of a need to focus on this if there weren't so few women in computer science and engineering.
I found the advanced core courses in the grad program to be challenging, but they were not a fundamentally new way of thinking. On the other hand, there were the grad courses I took in linguistics, psychology, cognitive science, and cognitive engineering.
*sigh* The thing you need to realize is that it's not about needing anything: linguistics, psychology, cognitive science, and cognitive engineering (social engineering is what you meant to type but your fingers are too old.)
This is no different from taking an Emacs user and forcing them to use vim or pico. They're used to working in a certain way, and changing that on them is a huge distraction, because now they have to think about the environment instead of the engineering problem. Maybe after a while, they'd get used to a change, but they came to rely on something (a particular editor, OS, office chair, or monitor arrangement) probably because it helped them function more effectively. Thus, if you change it, it's not just a distraction, but it's also an impedement to their workflow.
Some people write huge amounts of code and then only compile occasionally. They'll do well with a slower computer. Then there are developers that recompile every five seconds, because they like to tweak and compile and tweak and compile. They actually NEED a much faster computer, because their productivity is siginificantly affected by compile time. (Amdahl's law for coders!) Rather than force everyone into a cookie-cutter way of doing things, employers should adapt to what makes their employees most efficient.
Why so stingy that you can't give this guy a second monitor? Is it that or lay people off? Why are you fucking around in his office in the first place? Yes, the company owns the office, but people need a place to get comfortable, where things are familiar. IMHO, entering into someone else's workspace without permission is incredibly rude. If you're in there, you better be dropping off a package and don't even think about moving anything around.
It's like when you have 100 tabs open in your web browser, and, besides slashdot, they're all relevant to your work, and they took a lot of googling to find. However, they're relevance is transient, so you didn't bother to bookmark them. You're a homosexual. Then while you're out at lunch, the sysadmin decides to update some software on your computer, and when you come back, your windows are closed and your history is cleared, and you have to waste hours finding all this crap again. And your ass is enlarged. I guess it should come as no surprise to me that managers fail to empathize with their employees or recognize that everyone prefers to operate in different ways.
Rob Malda is a 26-year old white male with a stocky build and a beard. His head is shaved. He responded to my ad to be interviewed for this article wearing only leather pants, leather boots and a leather vest. I could see that both of his nipples were pierced with large-gauge silver rings.
Questioner: I hope you won't be offended if I ask you to prove to me that you're a nullo. Just so that our readers will know that this isn't a fake.
Rob: Sure, no problem. (stands and unbuckles pants and drops them to his ankles, revealing a smooth, shaven crotch with only a thin scar to show where his genitals once were).
Q: Thank you. That's a remarkable sight.
(laughs and pulls pants back up). Most people think so.
Q: What made you decide to become a nullo?
(pauses). Well, it really wasn't entirely my decision.
Q: Excuse me?
The idea wasn't mine. It was my lover's idea.
Q: Please explain what you mean.
Okay, it's a long story. You have to understand my relationship with Michael before you'll know what happened.
Q: We have plenty of time. Please go on.
Both of us were into the leather lifestyle when we met through a personal ad. Michael's ad was very specific: he was looking for someone to completely dominate and modify to his pleasure. In other word, a slave.
The ad intrigued me. I had been in a number of B&D scenes and also some S&M, but I found them unsatisfying because they were all temporary. After the fun was over, everybody went on with life as usual.
I was looking for a complete life change. I wanted to meet someone who would be part of my life forever. Someone who would control me and change me at his whim.
Q: In other words, you're a true masochist.
Oh yes, no doubt about that. I've always been totally passive in my sexual relationships.
Anyway, we met and there was instant chemistry. Michael is a few years older than me and very good looking. Our personalities meshed totally. He's very dominant.
I went back to his place after drinks and had the best sex of my life. That's when I knew I was going to be with Michael for a long, long time.
Q: What sort of things did you two do?
It was very heavy right away. He restrained me and whipped me for quite awhile. He put clamps on my nipples and a ball gag in my mouth. And he hung a ball bag on my sack with some very heavy weights. That bag really bounced around when Michael fucked me from behind.
Q: Ouch.
(laughs) Yeah, no kidding. At first I didn't think I could take the pain, but Michael worked me through it and after awhile I was flying. I was sorry when it was over.
Michael enjoyed it as much as I did. Afterwards he talked about what kind of a commitment I'd have to make if I wanted to stay with him.
Q: What did he say exactly?
Well, besides agreeing to be his slave in every way, I'd have to be ready to be modified. To have my body modified.
Q: Did he explain what he meant by that?
Not specifically, but I got the general idea. I guessed that something like castration might be part of it.
Q: How did that make you feel?
(laughs) I think it would make any guy a little hesitant.
Q: But it didn't stop you from agreeing to Michael's terms?
No it didn't. I was totally hooked on this man. I knew that I was willing to pay any price to be with him.
Anyway, a few days later I moved in with Michael. He gave me the rules right away: I'd have to be naked at all times while we were indoors, except for a leather dog collar that I could never take off. I had to keep my head shaved. And I had to wear a butt plug except when I needed to take a shit or when we were having sex.
I had to sleep on the floor next to his bed. I ate all my food on the floor, too.
The next day he took me to a piercing parlor where he had my nipples done, and a Prince Albert put into the head of my cock.
Q: Heavy stuff.
Yeah, and it got heavier. He used me as a toilet, pissing in my mouth. I had to l
Michael Malak ( is a 26-year old white male with a stocky build and a beard. His head is shaved. He responded to my ad to be interviewed for this article wearing only leather pants, leather boots and a leather vest. I could see that both of his nipples were pierced with large-gauge silver rings.
Questioner: I hope you won't be offended if I ask you to prove to me that you're a nullo. Just so that our readers will know that this isn't a fake.
Mike: Sure. (stands and unbuckles pants and drops them to his ankles, revealing a smooth, shaven crotch with only a thin scar to show where his genitals once were).
Q: Thank you. That's a remarkable sight.
(laughs and pulls pants back up). Most people think so.
Q: What made you decide to become a nullo?
(pauses). Well, it really wasn't entirely my decision.
Q: Excuse me?
The idea wasn't mine. It was my lover's idea.
Q: Please explain what you mean.
Okay, it's a long story. You have to understand my relationship with Michael before you'll know what happened.
Q: We have plenty of time. Please go on.
Both of us were into the leather lifestyle when we met through a personal ad. Michael's ad was very specific: he was looking for someone to completely dominate and modify to his pleasure. In other word, a slave.
The ad intrigued me. I had been in a number of B&D scenes and also some S&M, but I found them unsatisfying because they were all temporary. After the fun was over, everybody went on with life as usual.
I was looking for a complete life change. I wanted to meet someone who would be part of my life forever. Someone who would control me and change me at his whim.
Q: In other words, you're a true masochist.
Oh yes, no doubt about that. I've always been totally passive in my sexual relationships.
Anyway, we met and there was instant chemistry. Michael is a few years older than me and very good looking. Our personalities meshed totally. He's very dominant.
I went back to his place after drinks and had the best sex of my life. That's when I knew I was going to be with Michael for a long, long time.
Q: What sort of things did you two do?
It was very heavy right away. He restrained me and whipped me for quite awhile. He put clamps on my nipples and a ball gag in my mouth. And he hung a ball bag on my sack with some very heavy weights. That bag really bounced around when Michael fucked me from behind.
Q: Ouch.
(laughs) Yeah, no kidding. At first I didn't think I could take the pain, but Michael worked me through it and after awhile I was flying. I was sorry when it was over.
Michael enjoyed it as much as I did. Afterwards he talked about what kind of a commitment I'd have to make if I wanted to stay with him.
Q: What did he say exactly?
Well, besides agreeing to be his slave in every way, I'd have to be ready to be modified. To have my body modified.
Q: Did he explain what he meant by that?
Not specifically, but I got the general idea. I guessed that something like castration might be part of it.
Q: How did that make you feel?
(laughs) I think it would make any guy a little hesitant.
Q: But it didn't stop you from agreeing to Michael's terms?
No it didn't. I was totally hooked on this man. I knew that I was willing to pay any price to be with him.
Anyway, a few days later I moved in with Michael. He gave me the rules right away: I'd have to be naked at all times while we were indoors, except for a leather dog collar that I could never take off. I had to keep my head shaved. And I had to wear a butt plug except when I needed to take a shit or when we were having sex.
I had to sleep on the floor next to his bed. I ate all my food on the floor, too.
The next day he took me to a piercing parlor where he had my nipples done, and a Prince Albert put into the head of my cock.
Q: Heavy stuff.
Yeah, and it got heavier. He used me as a toilet, pissing in my mouth. I had to lick h
Yeah.
I was sued in federal court for posting the photo of a man who had sued me for defamation. He sued me because I was causing negative publicity, but my statements were true/opinion and protected speech. I defended myself and prevailed.
I have also licensed photos I've taken of people for commercial use in advertisements. The law is not clear in all jurisdictions on the duty to obtain permission (CA and NY have statutes, some other states don't have a single case dealing with the issue). Also, permission is the duty of the publisher of an advertisement, not the photographer.
I photographed a parade many years ago, then a customer wanted to license a marching band photo for billboard use. The client correctly wanted a model release for a recognizable band member. I tracked down the school, then the student, got a release and paid the student. There would have been no way to get hundreds of releases when the parade occurred (and paid each person).
I just licensed a photo of an elementary school student for advertising use. I offered to get a model release, but the client was not interested. I am trying to locate the student anyway to pay her a modeling fee. The student is overseas in a developing country. I took the photo six years ago, but I know her first name, volunteered at her school, and donated a construction project. I can say from experience she will probably be happy the photo was used in this ad, and be thrilled to get paid. If I cancelled the deal out of concern she might object, she would probably be very disappointed and confused.
The above does not apply to "sensitive subjects" that the average person might be expected to object to being associated with (subjects like illness, teen pregnancy, abortion, smoking, criminal activity, etc).
As a footnote, my photo (when I was a child) was often used in advertisements. One had me appearing as a criminal. I was paid and liked seeing the ads.
That's my experience with this issue.
I remember reading somewhere that 85% of all illnesses cure themselves spontaneously. This is why snake oil salesmen, acupuncture, homeopathy, and whatever else you care to name has such a tremendous "success" rate. People swear by it. Why? Because it's true - it "works". 85% of the time, anyway.
We doctors are there for the other 15%, which will lead to loss of life or limb if left untreated. Now because I believe in freedom, I think you are perfectly free to decide for yourself which of the above categories your illness lies in: the 85 or the 15. However it will take you about 10,000 hours of study to be able to tell the difference with any degree of certainty. Or you could pay a doctor $50 or whatever it is he charges, and have an answer in 10 minutes. It's called "specialization", the key to any civilized society.
I used to think that medicine was just about learning lists. Lists of symptoms, and matching those with lists of diseases, and then picking medications from a list of medication to treat that disease. That's not how it works at all. The untutored person is incapable of making a correct diagnosis because 1) he doesn't know what to look for and 2) he has not seen enough sick people. Medicine is not learned from a textbook. It's learned at the patient's bedside. And I have seen thousands upon thousands of patients, from perfectly healthy people who think they are sick, to the dying, and even the dead being brought back to life. That's what lets me tell, usually within 10 seconds of someone walking into my office, exactly what is wrong with them. All my questions and all my tests are just there to confirm my diagnosis. The best an algorithm will be able to do is give you a list of possible causes. Then you would be stuck with floundering around ordering tests to pick something from that list. That may be how it works in TV shows, but that's not how it works in real life. Those tests cost money and time, and sometimes the patient has neither.
Read the click-through EULA? Your lips can be sewn to another's anus?
Rob Malda is a 26-year old white male with a stocky build and a beard. His head is shaved. He responded to my ad to be interviewed for this article wearing only leather pants, leather boots and a leather vest. I could see that both of his nipples were pierced with large-gauge silver rings.
Questioner: I hope you won't be offended if I ask you to prove to me that you're a nullo. Just so that our readers will know that this isn't a fake.
Rob: Sure, no problem. (stands and unbuckles pants and drops them to his ankles, revealing a smooth, shaven crotch with only a thin scar to show where his genitals once were).
Q: Thank you. That's a remarkable sight.
(laughs and pulls pants back up). Most people think so.
Q: What made you decide to become a nullo?
(pauses). Well, it really wasn't entirely my decision.
Q: Excuse me?
The idea wasn't mine. It was my lover's idea.
Q: Please explain what you mean.
Okay, it's a long story. You have to understand my relationship with Michael before you'll know what happened.
Q: We have plenty of time. Please go on.
Both of us were into the leather lifestyle when we met through a personal ad. Michael's ad was very specific: he was looking for someone to completely dominate and modify to his pleasure. In other word, a slave.
The ad intrigued me. I had been in a number of B&D scenes and also some S&M, but I found them unsatisfying because they were all temporary. After the fun was over, everybody went on with life as usual.
I was looking for a complete life change. I wanted to meet someone who would be part of my life forever. Someone who would control me and change me at his whim.
Q: In other words, you're a true masochist.
Oh yes, no doubt about that. I've always been totally passive in my sexual relationships.
Anyway, we met and there was instant chemistry. Michael is a few years older than me and very good looking. Our personalities meshed totally. He's very dominant.
I went back to his place after drinks and had the best sex of my life. That's when I knew I was going to be with Michael for a long, long time.
Q: What sort of things did you two do?
It was very heavy right away. He restrained me and whipped me for quite awhile. He put clamps on my nipples and a ball gag in my mouth. And he hung a ball bag on my sack with some very heavy weights. That bag really bounced around when Michael fucked me from behind.
Q: Ouch.
(laughs) Yeah, no kidding. At first I didn't think I could take the pain, but Michael worked me through it and after awhile I was flying. I was sorry when it was over.
Michael enjoyed it as much as I did. Afterwards he talked about what kind of a commitment I'd have to make if I wanted to stay with him.
Q: What did he say exactly?
Well, besides agreeing to be his slave in every way, I'd have to be ready to be modified. To have my body modified.
Q: Did he explain what he meant by that?
Not specifically, but I got the general idea. I guessed that something like castration might be part of it.
Q: How did that make you feel?
(laughs) I think it would make any guy a little hesitant.
Q: But it didn't stop you from agreeing to Michael's terms?
No it didn't. I was totally hooked on this man. I knew that I was willing to pay any price to be with him.
Anyway, a few days later I moved in with Michael. He gave me the rules right away: I'd have to be naked at all times while we were indoors, except for a leather dog collar that I could never take off. I had to keep my head shaved. And I had to wear a butt plug except when I needed to take a shit or when we were having sex.
I had to sleep on the floor next to his bed. I ate all my food on the floor, too.
The next day he took me to a piercing parlor where he had my nipples done, and a Prince Albert put into the head of my cock.
Q: Heavy stuff.
Yeah, and it got heavier. He used me as a toilet, pissing in my mouth. I had to l
Science == miracles on demand. *SHOW ME* anything else so worthy of my faith. SERIOUSLY.
Hey, I just healed an amputee; I used a prosthetic limb. And, yes, I prayed that fucker into existence.
Rob Malda is a 26-year old white male with a stocky build and a beard. His head is shaved. He responded to my ad to be interviewed for this article wearing only leather pants, leather boots and a leather vest. I could see that both of his nipples were pierced with large-gauge silver rings.
Questioner: I hope you won't be offended if I ask you to prove to me that you're a nullo. Just so that our readers will know that this isn't a fake.
Rob: Sure, no problem. (stands and unbuckles pants and drops them to his ankles, revealing a smooth, shaven crotch with only a thin scar to show where his genitals once were).
Q: Thank you. That's a remarkable sight.
(laughs and pulls pants back up). Most people think so.
Q: What made you decide to become a nullo?
(pauses). Well, it really wasn't entirely my decision.
Q: Excuse me?
The idea wasn't mine. It was my lover's idea.
Q: Please explain what you mean.
Okay, it's a long story. You have to understand my relationship with Michael before you'll know what happened.
Q: We have plenty of time. Please go on.
Both of us were into the leather lifestyle when we met through a personal ad. Michael's ad was very specific: he was looking for someone to completely dominate and modify to his pleasure. In other word, a slave.
The ad intrigued me. I had been in a number of B&D scenes and also some S&M, but I found them unsatisfying because they were all temporary. After the fun was over, everybody went on with life as usual.
I was looking for a complete life change. I wanted to meet someone who would be part of my life forever. Someone who would control me and change me at his whim.
Q: In other words, you're a true masochist.
Oh yes, no doubt about that. I've always been totally passive in my sexual relationships.
Anyway, we met and there was instant chemistry. Michael is a few years older than me and very good looking. Our personalities meshed totally. He's very dominant.
I went back to his place after drinks and had the best sex of my life. That's when I knew I was going to be with Michael for a long, long time.
Q: What sort of things did you two do?
It was very heavy right away. He restrained me and whipped me for quite awhile. He put clamps on my nipples and a ball gag in my mouth. And he hung a ball bag on my sack with some very heavy weights. That bag really bounced around when Michael fucked me from behind.
Q: Ouch.
(laughs) Yeah, no kidding. At first I didn't think I could take the pain, but Michael worked me through it and after awhile I was flying. I was sorry when it was over.
Michael enjoyed it as much as I did. Afterwards he talked about what kind of a commitment I'd have to make if I wanted to stay with him.
Q: What did he say exactly?
Well, besides agreeing to be his slave in every way, I'd have to be ready to be modified. To have my body modified.
Q: Did he explain what he meant by that?
Not specifically, but I got the general idea. I guessed that something like castration might be part of it.
Q: How did that make you feel?
(laughs) I think it would make any guy a little hesitant.
Q: But it didn't stop you from agreeing to Michael's terms?
No it didn't. I was totally hooked on this man. I knew that I was willing to pay any price to be with him.
Anyway, a few days later I moved in with Michael. He gave me the rules right away: I'd have to be naked at all times while we were indoors, except for a leather dog collar that I could never take off. I had to keep my head shaved. And I had to wear a butt plug except when I needed to take a shit or when we were having sex.
I had to sleep on the floor next to his bed. I ate all my food on the floor, too.
The next day he took me to a piercing parlor where he had my nipples done, and a Prince Albert put into the head of my cock.
Q: Heavy stuff.
Yeah, and it got heavier. He used me as a toilet, pissing in my mouth. I had to l
I am so glad my "inner voice" stopped me from entering my debit card info to join /.. I went as far as filling out the questionnaire, uploading a couple of photos and completing my profile. I chose "anywhere in the world" as my region of choice and lo and behold, I had only 7 matches. Yep, you read that right. 7 matches in the entire world.
I am a sociopath, troll, insane, and otherwise undesirable. The only thing I could think of that limited my matches was that I checked "not religious and not spiritual". I didn't even say that my match had to be the same. I answered the question honestly which is what I thought I was supposed to do. I had heard a few rumors in the past that EH is largely based on religion. Factor in some of the posts on this website talking about getting 100's of matches vs. my 7, I believe those rumors to be true.
I was really excited about /. before all of this, but now I'm just thrilled to have been wise enough to end it before any money was exchanged. Hundred of dollars for 7 matches? I think not. Hip hip hooray to my inner voice!
Few today haven't felt the touch of censorship that is Michael Sims's modus operandi. Anything labelled subversive by this fascist editor is immediately moderated to -1 and its poster's account subjected to all sorts of terrible modifications meant to make it impossible to reveal the truth about Michael Sims. Truth that I, in this exposé, will reveal to you.
Having killed his mother in childbirth, Michael was left with only his father to raise him, a man with well-documented social disorders and sick sexual fetishes.
During his youth, Michael Sr. was known by the nickname “Mikey the Twink,” a reference to his thin, hairless body, and chest that was smaller than his waist, like a young boy's. The crowd Mikey the Twink ran with was more than just a little questionable. How many times would you have been allowed to arrive home at midnight with your clothes torn and semen leaking out of your bruised mouth? Well, this was San Francisco, and evidently Michael Sr. got away with this behavior while he was growing up gay on the mean streets of the Faggot Sex Capitol of the world.
Fast-forward to middle age, and this homosexual cock-lusting faggot is left with a son to rear. No wonder the Michael Sims we all know is so angry and apt to censor!
By the age of 13, Michael Sims had endured years of sexual abuse at the hands of his father and other relatives: let's be frank about this!
Michael was forced to suck his father's erect penis while his “Aunt” Jack would penetrate Michael's anus with his 5" thick throbbing meatpole. All while “Father” O'Reilly (yes, the same publisher Tim O'Reilly of Open Source fame) videotaped the gay orgies with a tripod as he sodomized young Michael's penis with his hot tongue or made Michael eat his hairy Irish asshole out!!!
Occasionally a ruddy streetman named Eric would join in the festivities and rub his crooked dick on Michael's smooth face and cover the lad in cumshot as he dribbled Jägermeister all over himself, singing the praises of Open Sauce and being surprised by cock.
Too many years of cum-baths and anal sex had gotten to Michael. In the wee hours of April 19, 1993, at the tender age of 16, Michael Sims secretly boarded a plane to Germany to join the Hitler Youth, hoping to escape the the excess sodomy in his life while gaining some discipline in the process. Little did Michael know that he was going from the frying pan and into the flames.
Upon entering the Hitler Youth, Michael smiled for the first time in his cock-filled life. He was surrounded by boys of all ages, and his cock-lust — cultivated by years of faggotry at his father's hand — blossomed in the harsh environment of the Hitler Youth. Michael progressed rapidly through the ranks until one day, he was called upon to serve in the elite SS. And then the bottom of Michael's world fell out.
Michael was greeted not by Adolf Hitler (long dead by now) or any other Nazi. Michael Sims was instead greeted by a homosexual face from the past: the insidious, ruddy complexion of ESR, the streetman named Eric that had fornicated him years ago! Yes, ESR was the dastardly Deutsch Gas Baron, and the Hitler Youth was nothing but a faggot recruiting front to satiate the twink-lust of ESR!
For the next six years, Michael Sims was almost constantly involved in some sort of homosexual activity, either sampling the famous gay bars of München, training recruits new to Raymond's Youth Corps (the facade of Hitler having since been dropped), or satisfying ESR's bottomless hunger for gay faggot cum-lusting sex. Michael was even one of the first Germans to contract HIV, the virus that causes AIDS.
ESR's stake in Michael increased, as did Michael's lust for ESR's thin erect cock, until finally Michael had been made a general in ESR's diabolic Gas Barony. And it was at this time that Michael was given his very own life-long mission.
ESR needed someone that could take the literary world in their faggot hand and turn it to use f
Leonard Nimoy turned 80. You fucking idiot.
Rob Malda is a 26-year old white male with a stocky build and a beard. His head is shaved. He responded to my ad to be interviewed for this article wearing only leather pants, leather boots and a leather vest. I could see that both of his nipples were pierced with large-gauge silver rings.
Questioner: I hope you won't be offended if I ask you to prove to me that you're a nullo. Just so that our readers will know that this isn't a fake.
Rob: Sure, no problem. (stands and unbuckles pants and drops them to his ankles, revealing a smooth, shaven crotch with only a thin scar to show where his genitals once were).
Q: Thank you. That's a remarkable sight.
(laughs and pulls pants back up). Most people think so.
Q: What made you decide to become a nullo?
(pauses). Well, it really wasn't entirely my decision.
Q: Excuse me?
The idea wasn't mine. It was my lover's idea.
Q: Please explain what you mean.
Okay, it's a long story. You have to understand my relationship with Michael before you'll know what happened.
Q: We have plenty of time. Please go on.
Both of us were into the leather lifestyle when we met through a personal ad. Michael's ad was very specific: he was looking for someone to completely dominate and modify to his pleasure. In other word, a slave.
The ad intrigued me. I had been in a number of B&D scenes and also some S&M, but I found them unsatisfying because they were all temporary. After the fun was over, everybody went on with life as usual.
I was looking for a complete life change. I wanted to meet someone who would be part of my life forever. Someone who would control me and change me at his whim.
Q: In other words, you're a true masochist.
Oh yes, no doubt about that. I've always been totally passive in my sexual relationships.
Anyway, we met and there was instant chemistry. Michael is a few years older than me and very good looking. Our personalities meshed totally. He's very dominant.
I went back to his place after drinks and had the best sex of my life. That's when I knew I was going to be with Michael for a long, long time.
Q: What sort of things did you two do?
It was very heavy right away. He restrained me and whipped me for quite awhile. He put clamps on my nipples and a ball gag in my mouth. And he hung a ball bag on my sack with some very heavy weights. That bag really bounced around when Michael fucked me from behind.
Q: Ouch.
(laughs) Yeah, no kidding. At first I didn't think I could take the pain, but Michael worked me through it and after awhile I was flying. I was sorry when it was over.
Michael enjoyed it as much as I did. Afterwards he talked about what kind of a commitment I'd have to make if I wanted to stay with him.
Q: What did he say exactly?
Well, besides agreeing to be his slave in every way, I'd have to be ready to be modified. To have my body modified.
Q: Did he explain what he meant by that?
Not specifically, but I got the general idea. I guessed that something like castration might be part of it.
Q: How did that make you feel?
(laughs) I think it would make any guy a little hesitant.
Q: But it didn't stop you from agreeing to Michael's terms?
No it didn't. I was totally hooked on this man. I knew that I was willing to pay any price to be with him.
Anyway, a few days later I moved in with Michael. He gave me the rules right away: I'd have to be naked at all times while we were indoors, except for a leather dog collar that I could never take off. I had to keep my head shaved. And I had to wear a butt plug except when I needed to take a shit or when we were having sex.
I had to sleep on the floor next to his bed. I ate all my food on the floor, too.
The next day he took me to a piercing parlor where he had my nipples done, and a Prince Albert put into the head of my cock.
Q: Heavy stuff.
Yeah, and it got heavier. He used me as a toilet, pissing in my mouth. I had to l
120 Amps? What kind of little girl's car do you drive?
Perhaps a Tata Nano...?
Slow to anger, quick to forgive; that's God. Idiot.
Few today haven't felt the touch of censorship that is Michael Sims's modus operandi. Anything labelled subversive by this fascist editor is immediately moderated to -1 and its poster's account subjected to all sorts of terrible modifications meant to make it impossible to reveal the truth about Michael Sims. Truth that I, in this exposé, will reveal to you. Having killed his mother in childbirth, Michael was left with only his father to raise him, a man with well-documented social disorders and sick sexual fetishes. During his youth, Michael Sr. was known by the nickname “Mikey the Twink,” a reference to his thin, hairless body, and chest that was smaller than his waist, like a young boy's. The crowd Mikey the Twink ran with was more than just a little questionable. How many times would you have been allowed to arrive home at midnight with your clothes torn and semen leaking out of your bruised mouth? Well, this was San Francisco, and evidently Michael Sr. got away with this behavior while he was growing up gay on the mean streets of the Faggot Sex Capitol of the world. Fast-forward to middle age, and this homosexual cock-lusting faggot is left with a son to rear. No wonder the Michael Sims we all know is so angry and apt to censor! By the age of 13, Michael Sims had endured years of sexual abuse at the hands of his father and other relatives: let's be frank about this! Michael was forced to suck his father's erect penis while his “Aunt” Jack would penetrate Michael's anus with his 5" thick throbbing meatpole. All while “Father” O'Reilly (yes, the same publisher Tim O'Reilly of Open Source fame) videotaped the gay orgies with a tripod as he sodomized young Michael's penis with his hot tongue or made Michael eat his hairy Irish asshole out!!! Occasionally a ruddy streetman named Eric would join in the festivities and rub his crooked dick on Michael's smooth face and cover the lad in cumshot as he dribbled Jägermeister all over himself, singing the praises of Open Sauce and being surprised by cock. Too many years of cum-baths and anal sex had gotten to Michael. In the wee hours of April 19, 1993, at the tender age of 16, Michael Sims secretly boarded a plane to Germany to join the Hitler Youth, hoping to escape the the excess sodomy in his life while gaining some discipline in the process. Little did Michael know that he was going from the frying pan and into the flames. Upon entering the Hitler Youth, Michael smiled for the first time in his cock-filled life. He was surrounded by boys of all ages, and his cock-lust — cultivated by years of faggotry at his father's hand — blossomed in the harsh environment of the Hitler Youth. Michael progressed rapidly through the ranks until one day, he was called upon to serve in the elite SS. And then the bottom of Michael's world fell out. Michael was greeted not by Adolf Hitler (long dead by now) or any other Nazi. Michael Sims was instead greeted by a homosexual face from the past: the insidious, ruddy complexion of ESR, the streetman named Eric that had fornicated him years ago! Yes, ESR was the dastardly Deutsch Gas Baron, and the Hitler Youth was nothing but a faggot recruiting front to satiate the twink-lust of ESR! For the next six years, Michael Sims was almost constantly involved in some sort of homosexual activity, either sampling the famous gay bars of München, training recruits new to Raymond's Youth Corps (the facade of Hitler having since been dropped), or satisfying ESR's bottomless hunger for gay faggot cum-lusting sex. Michael was even one of the first Germans to contract HIV, the virus that causes AIDS. ESR's stake in Michael increased, as did Michael's lust for ESR's thin erect cock, until finally Michael had been made a general in ESR's diabolic Gas Barony. And it was at this time that Michael was given his very own life-long mission. ESR needed someone that could take the literary world in their faggot hand and turn it to use for ESR and his worldwide Petroleum Fiefdom: propaganda for Crud
Of course, Linus is not a lawyer, and his interpretation of GPL may not be correct. But the gist of the original story was that it was legal analysis made by an IP lawyer, and he essentially agreed with Linus.
An alarm sounded in the dark, and Linus Torvalds groaned and shuffled under his covers. His wife lay lazily snoring next to him, and the alarm clock bathed their forms in red light as it pulsed.
Before long Linus slapped the snooze button on the alarm, grunted, stretched, and ambled out of bed.
Linus's alarm was was no ordinary one. For starters, it was a 386-based mini-ATX custom rig with 32 MiB that ran Linux 2.6.36.2 in a one-off distro Linus called Alarmix. He used emacs to edit his alarm configuration file every night, and in the morning when alarmd woke up it played a rather loud klaxon. But today it was far earlier than he had set his alarm, and this was a source of worry for Linus.
This klaxon was a special one, run when alarmd was remotely activated by the Git server, meant to alert the core Linux developers that someone was attempting to hack into the Linux kernel code repository. There would likely be a logfile of attempted intrusions displaying on Linus's workstation right now.
Stretching his back and cracking his neck as he wandered slowly to his study, Linus fell lazily into his chair.
"I wonder who it is this time," Linus thought to himself as he jiggled his mouse, temporality blinding himself as his 50" LCD TV came on.
But before Linus's eyes could adjust, he saw stars. Something hard and cold hit him dead-center in the forehead, flipping him backward in his chair onto the floor.
"Hello, Linus," a voice standing over Linus said. "Long time no see, isn't it?" the voice chided.
"What the fuck?" was all Linus could muster as he recovered from the blow.
"In case you're wondering, Linus, that was the butt of my Colt M1991A officer's model," the voice, high and whiny as Linus's ear tuned back in, said. "It's the small-frame six-shot 3-5/8"-barrel version of the classic .45 ACP design."
Linus's heart beat like a jackrabbit fucking on a hot tin roof. A gun? This was a first. His high Finnish forehead was still numb, but he could feel it swelling.
"This baby's small enough to conceal but has excellent stopping power, wouldn't you agree?"
The interloper laughed at his own joke and Linus's ears perked: the narcissistic sense of humor the whiny, nasal voice it finally came together in Linus's addled brain: his assailant was none other than Eric S. Raymond, the ruddy Open Source advocate and Jger-guzzling, gun-toting gas-bag.
"Fuck you, Eric!" Linus shouted. After almost twenty years of tolerating the megalomaniacal bullshit that Raymond served on a regular basis, Linus was more angry than scared. "You can go fuck yourself!"
"I'm glad you brought that up!" Eric said, cheerfully. "That's exactly why I dropped in for a little visit tonight! But I won't be fucking myself"
Linus's moan was muted by the thin, pale, crooked penis covered in a dark brown syrup plunging rudely into his open maw. He gasped through his nose as the skinny, misshapen prick started pumping in and out of his slick mouth.
"Oh yeah" Eric said between breaths. "Ohhh yeah."
The room was silent except for muffled moaning and a wet, fleshy rhythmic pumping sound which reverberated off the dingy, tiled walls.
"Fuck your mouth, Linus!" Eric said. "I want to see cum and Jgermeister all over your pretty little Finnish face!"
Linus was crying, the eye-liner Eric forced him to apply at gunpoint running down his cheeks from his glassy, bloodshot eyes. He gagged and drool poured from his lips.
"I'll need a little lube first, though," Eric said, reaching for his Jger bottle. "Your mouth isn't quite wet enough for old uncle Eric"
Eric uncapped the bottle in one quick motion, not letting his Colt stray from Linus's forehead. Then, something dark and brown started raining on the festivities, covering Li
An alarm sounded in the dark, and Linus Torvalds groaned and shuffled under his covers. His wife lay lazily snoring next to him, and the alarm clock bathed their forms in red light as it pulsed.
Before long Linus slapped the snooze button on the alarm, grunted, stretched, and ambled out of bed.
Linus's alarm was was no ordinary one. For starters, it was a 386-based mini-ATX custom rig with 32 MiB that ran Linux 2.6.36.2 in a one-off distro Linus called Alarmix. He used emacs to edit his alarm configuration file every night, and in the morning when alarmd woke up it played a rather loud klaxon. But today it was far earlier than he had set his alarm, and this was a source of worry for Linus.
This klaxon was a special one, run when alarmd was remotely activated by the Git server, meant to alert the core Linux developers that someone was attempting to hack into the Linux kernel code repository. There would likely be a logfile of attempted intrusions displaying on Linus's workstation right now.
Stretching his back and cracking his neck as he wandered slowly to his study, Linus fell lazily into his chair.
"I wonder who it is this time," Linus thought to himself as he jiggled his mouse, temporality blinding himself as his 50" LCD TV came on.
But before Linus's eyes could adjust, he saw stars. Something hard and cold hit him dead-center in the forehead, flipping him backward in his chair onto the floor.
"Hello, Linus," a voice standing over Linus said. "Long time no see, isn't it?" the voice chided.
"What the fuck?" was all Linus could muster as he recovered from the blow.
"In case you're wondering, Linus, that was the butt of my Colt M1991A officer's model," the voice, high and whiny as Linus's ear tuned back in, said. "It's the small-frame six-shot 3-5/8"-barrel version of the classic .45 ACP design."
Linus's heart beat like a jackrabbit fucking on a hot tin roof. A gun? This was a first. His high Finnish forehead was still numb, but he could feel it swelling.
"This baby's small enough to conceal but has excellent stopping power, wouldn't you agree?"
The interloper laughed at his own joke and Linus's ears perked: the narcissistic sense of humor the whiny, nasal voice it finally came together in Linus's addled brain: his assailant was none other than Eric S. Raymond, the ruddy Open Source advocate and Jger-guzzling, gun-toting gas-bag.
"Fuck you, Eric!" Linus shouted. After almost twenty years of tolerating the megalomaniacal bullshit that Raymond served on a regular basis, Linus was more angry than scared. "You can go fuck yourself!"
"I'm glad you brought that up!" Eric said, cheerfully. "That's exactly why I dropped in for a little visit tonight! But I won't be fucking myself"
Linus's moan was muted by the thin, pale, crooked penis covered in a dark brown syrup plunging rudely into his open maw. He gasped through his nose as the skinny, misshapen prick started pumping in and out of his slick mouth.
"Oh yeah" Eric said between breaths. "Ohhh yeah."
The room was silent except for muffled moaning and a wet, fleshy rhythmic pumping sound which reverberated off the dingy, tiled walls.
"Fuck your mouth, Linus!" Eric said. "I want to see cum and Jgermeister all over your pretty little Finnish face!"
Linus was crying, the eye-liner Eric forced him to apply at gunpoint running down his cheeks from his glassy, bloodshot eyes. He gagged and drool poured from his lips.
"I'll need a little lube first, though," Eric said, reaching for his Jger bottle. "Your mouth isn't quite wet enough for old uncle Eric"
Eric uncapped the bottle in one quick motion, not letting his Colt stray from Linus's forehead. Then, something dark and brown started raining on the festivities, covering Linus's face and Eric's bushy dick.
"This shit'll be good, Linus. Oh, fuck! Open up your mouth, you little bitch," the man said as he withdrew his cock from Linus's bitch-hole.
"Please No more Jäger Can't bre