I’ve been called a misogynist, a racist, and a sexist because…
Over the past couple of days on Social Media I’ve been ganged-up on and called a misogynist, a racist, and a sexist because I did not, and do not, support Senator Kamala Harris in her bid for Vice President of the United States of America.
I do not like the criminal prosecution record she had when she was the district attorney of San Francisco. I do not like her liberal ideology, I do not like that she wants to raise taxes and take away our 2nd amendment rights. The list can go on, but to sum it up, I just do not agree with her on many political issues, and I certainly do not like the direction that she wants to take our country. …
I melt inside of you…
me inside
you on top
grinding your pelvis against mine
forcing me deeper into you
intensity increases
sweat beads your body
cries of ecstasy escape your lips
dark hair lashes your moist face
rhythm is furious
pressure builds
release is imminent
saying everything
our eyes lock
i shudder
you spasm
holding each other tightly
orgasm
in a whirl of pleasure
our juices blend together
exhausted
you collapse onto me
and I melt inside of you…
Lon Casler Bixby is a professional photographer and published author in various genres: Fiction, Poetry, Humor, Photography, & Comic Books.
You can see his writing here — www.amazon.com/author/loncaslerbixby/.
And view some of his photography here — www.whileyouweresleeping.photography/ and here — www.neoichi.com/.
Dreams, Dementia, and Death.
My dad came to visit me last night. But it’s probably not what you think.
I live in Burbank, California — almost thirty years now. My dad lives 3000 miles away in East Greenwich, Rhode Island. He’s been there for almost all of his eighty-eight years. He’s a great guy. Loving. Caring. Good sense of humor, and always leaves people with a smile. But he’s also the kind of dad that will seldom call, much less come for a visit.
So, I was quite surprised last night when he did.
It was a normal night. In bed by ten. Read for almost an hour. Then lights out, turned on my side with a pillow between my knees, and fell asleep — soundly. …
Saying that Cuties promotes pedophilia is like saying the movie Twelve Years a Slave promotes slavery. It doesn’t.
Wow! Where to begin? For weeks, before the feature film “Cuties” had been released, I was seeing lots of triggered “Karens & Kens” freaking out over the description of the movie and its trailer; a movie they haven’t even seen yet; a movie they probably will not see for themselves; a movie where they base their rants solely on the rambling opinions of others; a movie that they have already made up their minds is the worst thing on God’s green earth; a movie that… Well, you get the idea.
I’m not a sheep, nor a lemming, and I’m not one to get my shorts all in a bunch based on hearsay, the media, and/or the biased musings of internet trolls with an agenda — whether they be the radical left or the righteous right. I do like to make up my own mind and form my own opinions using my eyes, my ears, and my fingers to do my own internet research. …
A Cross-Country Road Trip and Photo Expedition
With camera in hand, I was out the door and leaving California on a cross-country road trip to the east coast, in particular, Rhode Island and environs where I have family and friends I wanted to visit.
Actually, when I left I had more than just my camera in hand. I mean, come on… it was an all the way across the country road trip. I needed more than just my camera. My car was packed with everything I could need, would need, might need, might not need, and more than I will ever need. I’m a “just-in-case” type of person, and needless to say, I over packed everything from clothes to food, emergency supplies, and camera gear. Especially the camera gear. I always end up bringing almost everything in my entire photography kit. …
Excerpt: Author’s Note
I was on a Caribbean cruise with my mum, her boyfriend, my grandmother, and… Okay, gotta’ stop here for a moment. You, the reader, may be asking yourself, “Who goes on a cruise with their mother, her boyfriend, and their grandmother?” Well, I do! And we had a great time. Granted, I was basically by myself and bored to tears the majority of the time I was on the ship — but I still had a good time nonetheless. …
Oops, it happened again.
I’m starting to think that the corner in my hallway doesn’t like me very much. There I was casually walking down my hallway when suddenly the corner jumped out and kicked me right in the toe. It’s not the first time it’s done this, but this time it kicked me so hard that my foot stayed melded to the evil corner while the rest of my body’s momentum carried me forward, or should I say — carried me straight down onto the hardwood floor — wrenching my lower back. Thank God the floor was there to break my fall.
As I lay looking blearily at the ceiling and wondering how I managed to find the floor so quickly, profanities started to slip past my tongue and drift loudly across the living room. …
Excerpt: Author’s Note
Where to begin? What to say? They always say “Write what you know.” And, “If you know, or are friends (or enemies) with a writer, anything you say, do, or think, will eventually end up in one of their stories.” Both of those statements are entirely true, and Apartment Zero is a perfect example of that.
Grace Harrell, my girlfriend at the time, and I are the co-creators of Apartment Zero. Just like our main characters, Nesha and Matt, Grace is Black (and an actress) and I’m White (and a writer). So, a lot of what you read in this series is what we lived, breathed, and experienced. In writing it, we took a lot of creative license, stretched the truth, and simply made up some things. …
Real or imagined?
I guess this has to do with getting older, but I like to be in bed sometime between 9 and 10 p.m., curl up under heavy blankets, open a good book, and read a few chapters before drifting off to sleep, usually by 11 p.m.
Last night was no different. In bed at 10. A couple chapters read, and with a full dinner from hours past weighing heavy, the light was out by 11. Before long, I was fast asleep.
Shortly thereafter something woke me from my deep slumber; a sound, a feeling. I’m not really sure. I looked over at the clock with its numbers glowing red, midnight. …
Something to think about while you sit and read this
On a recent road trip across the country, I stayed at a lot of different motels and hotels — mostly the cheaper roadside motels, being budget conscience and all. Every now and then I’d splurge and lodge at one of the more fancy places. It was always nice for my road-weary body to feel a little pampered with thicker towels and linens with a higher thread-count.
But the things that most Inns, whether fancy or not, don’t take into account are toilets. I’ll get to that in a moment.
I was driving across some state, don’t remember which one, doesn’t really matter. The day was long, the sun was setting, and I was tired. I decided to stop at the next place I saw. Just my luck, a few exits up was a prefab town with half a dozen of the most popular name-brand accommodations. I needed a little luxury and choose to stay at one of the more pricey places. …
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