Halloweenie

Halloween is a freak-fest and I love it. Plus, it's the one day of the year it's okay to take candy from strangers.

I'm not revealing my costume just yet -- it's nothing major, I just like to be dramatic. In the meantime, here are some pics from years past and my mom as a witch.





three's companyTotally 80's guy & my friend Genie
blowing the whistle on genie
discoSLUT & genie
genie is a photo whore
mr. bernard is dead
ravashing
wonder woman makes toquitoes
da gang's all here

Link Lust

Toilets for big people

Who knew there were 15 Ways to Tie Your Shoes?

Kelly Rates VMA shoes, betch.

Shit!

Blogger ate my web site! Earlier today I was getting a 404 error/page not found. I've got the site back up and running, but it appears there is a larger issue and I may not be able to update for a bit until I get this worked out. Shit!

This week is Halloween and November month is National Novel Writing Month; posts here were likely to be light until after the holidays anyways. Hopefully I'll be able to work out the kinks in the meantime.

Down with the Sickness

Dear God, kill me now.

I hate being sick. Even more so, I hate having to call into work sick. It makes me feel like a big pussy. Still, I have a rule: don't go anywhere with a fever.

But the biggest problem of all? Being sick is like totally boring. I don't have the energy to do anything productive, yet lying around for hours on end gets really old. There's nothing good on TV, I've already text messaged everyone I know and there are only so many times you can masturbate in a day.

This is where having a web site never fails me. I can lie in bed and amuse myself thusly. However I warn against taking pictures of yourself when you're sick. Even if you're as cute as me, you're still going to look like complete shit and the proof is above!

I need soup, crackers and 7up -- a classic homespun remedy that magically makes everything all better. I'm pretty sure it can cure cancer.

I Dranked A Bottle Of Wine

My roommate is at a convention or some shit this week and being home alone turns out to be a little creepy.

Especially when you factor in a couple strange, right-before-they-kill-you horror movie like things happening in and around our apartment complex, like the dead rat floating in the pool and all the external lights losing power. It's pitch black outside, the only glow is from the light from the full moon hitting the pool. Is this painting a picture for you? I'm skeered.

Okay, let me just calm down with a glass of wine, thought I. Then I have another, maybe two or three more, gets a little tipsy and keep drinking anyway.

I'm pretty sure kitty will protect me from evil-doers, but I'm really into my new companion. The bottle is my friend. I am calmed by it's juicy goodness. I pass out soon and forget this whole thing.

Push It

I've not-so-secretly secretly been building my web site redesign for this site over the past couple months and recently discovered the secrets of publishing to your own domain using blogger. As it turns out, I'm retarded and it's really not that complicated. I'm happy to explain the process in detail to anybody who's interested.

But those kinds of blog posts are boring as shit and I hate them.

Anyways, I've really missed having a place to express myself and say and do whatever I please. For someone like me, having a creative outlet is like oxygen. Otherwise stuff like the absurdity of dragon cock tattoos, exploding farts and douche bagging just spins around in my head.

"Wise men talk because they have something to say; fools, because they have to say something."

Thanks Plato! You've summed up my entire existence in an apt yet biting sentence.

# # #

On a side-note: I've read multiple so-called expert blogging guides that say your title should basically spell out the tome of your blog entry, rather than being clever or interesting or thought provoking. Professional bloggers are so fucking lame it hurts me.

If I listened to those boring dickwads, the title of this entry would be something like: "After Months Of Development Which All Fell Through I finally Launched My New Web Site Design And By The Way This Morning There Was A Rat In The Pool"

Right. That was the other thing I was going to talk about. The Dead Rat Floating in the Pool

Actually it's not so much floating anymore but rather a rat carcass sitting at the bottom of the pool.

Now that's class.

This is supposedly an upscale West Hollywood neighborhood. I didn't think that kind of shit happened, or at least they worked to cover it up a little quicker. Get on the ball bitches! You're offending my delicate sensibilities. I know there are rats in the city. That doesn't mean I want to see them -- wet, bloated and dead -- from my balcony. Thanks.

Un-Edit

There are times I'm sensitive about my audience, like when I'm sober enough to remember that friends and family visit my web site regularly...

Meanwhile, since I'm starting fresh by moving the blog to my homepage and no longer using DiaryLand, I signed up for some potential ads and a bunch of other stuff to add here, some of which have content guidelines. This of course includes nudity and profanity. I began to edit myself.

It started by changing the title of my welcome post from "Fuck It" to "Damn it all to Hell." Both damn and hell are words you can use on the radio.

First of all, this site it not meant to be child friendly. There are parental controls and shit. Secondly, if young readers do find this page, it's not likely they will be offended by my language. Unless I'm using lame kiddy swears like "Damn" when I want to say "Fuck." That kind of repression is palpable and therefore lame. Lastly of course, this is my space and I'll say fucking mother fucker all the fuck I want. I mean, fuck.

Later, I labeled the Dragon Cock entry "NSFW" and linked to the image instead of showing a photo of puff the magic dragon within the post itself.

))Insert tape-rewinding sound effect here((

What the hell was I thinking? This is my creative space, who gives a fuck what anybody else thinks. So, all that changed and reverted back original form: potentially offensive, pornographic, and profane material -- perverting the world and rotting your brain! That's what we like here.

From this point on, I do solemnly swear NEVER to filter myself through the holy-crap-my-mom-reads-this-o-meter*. She already knows I'm terrible, and yet she keeps coming back for confirmation. Nothing I post here should be a shock to her. If I'm not embarrassed that my mom is reading this shit: a) I'm certainly not going to pussyfoot around for anonymous people who didn't birth me (and) b) I truly have no shame.
*meter description provided by GolfWidow

If that means I don't meet the approval of a particular ad service, blog ring or anything else, piss on them.

That's all the warning you get! Come to my site and you might get a face full of dragon cock! Full frontal, no apologies.

Predictable

I hate being predictable but we have the worst food on the Paramount lot, I swear.

Thursday is spaghetti day and I actually get excited for it, if that gives any clue as to the limited options I'm faced with.

Is it too much to ask for a diverse menu of decent, healthy food? Yes! You want fries with that?


UPDATE: The lunch lady called out my order before I could even step up to the counter!

"Am I that predictable?" I asked.

"Yes!" She said cheerfully, adding, "I like it, you're easy."

"Everybody likes me because I'm easy," I replied.

Knowing smiles were exchanged, with an extra knowing wink from her. Who's that bitch been talking to?

Link Lust

Trend: Douche Bagging

Shop: Spanglish T-Shirts

LOL: What Vogue models are really thinking

Giggle: Wow, I guess you really can set a fart on fire

Dragon Cock

On the flip side:

Yes, I just HAD to find someone with a tattood peen. Dragon cock! Ouch. And yet ... kinda hot.

Now the obvious question, would you let the dragon in your cave? I'm total slut so you know I'd kiss that snake.

Erotic Ink

Ink smack that crack:

Who is Wes Ferguson?

Why am I here? I've had a web site baring my name since 2000. It was the new millennium and seemed like the thing to do. What, you mean you don't have your own web site? I'm sure you have a mySpace page (or something similar). Back in the day, we didn't have mySpace. Damn, that seems like forever ago.

My friend Jeremy likes to say I'm ahead of my time, but plenty of people had personal sites before mine and I never really had a particular vision of the future.

Anyways, I started a blog on DiaryLand because I wasn't smart enough to figure out how to publish a blog to my own domain. Plus I liked the community (hadn't even heard of Blogger at that time). It was easy and it seemed likely more people would read me if I joined the service.

At any rate, it's all the same principal idea -- a place of your own to express yourself and do whatever you want, attract friends and meet cool new people.

Except sometimes they're not so cool. I once received an e-mail from a visitor to my site who basically asked what my point was. He tried to be as insulting as possible, saying:

"What is this website all about? Are you trying to be Angelyne? Do you sing? Act? Model? None of the above it seems, so I'm not sure why you have all this narcissism..."

My reply was simple. I was all like, "your mom." Then I thought better of it and explained myself thusly:

"You seemed to have overlooked that my site is chock full of satire, poking fun of online culture, politics, life in gay Hollywood, and mainly myself. I may be an egotist, but it's all tongue-in-cheek. You hit the nail on the head with the Angelyne comment -- except that I'm aware the image I project is a joke. Instead of a billboard campaign, I write short, satirical posts, which - while farce - have a deeper meaning behind them. In real life, I’m a published writer, develop content for online destinations, and openly admit I’m an immature ass. This is my personal play space, where I get to be silly & funny [at lest that's my approach]. Hope you get it, or at least had a laugh at my expense."

The short version is the Plato quote at the header of this page: "Wise men talk because they have something to say; fools, because they have to say something."

Long story short (too late!), for the longest time my personal web site served as a welcome mat that linked to the DiaryLand blog and other stuff, like my pictures and crap like that.

Now, things have advanced to the point where I can do all that stuff in one place, right here! That's who I am and why I do what I do, if you cared to read this far, thanks.

test

... coming soon