Well I think your referring to Almond at the strip club just outside Boca. (Dee Licious had the night off)To milk Almond you have to stuff dollar bills down her dental floss constituted dancing garments , when the boss goes out for a smoke if you have $40 dollars get u a chance to milk her $80 she milks you in such a way that makes you question your masculinity and sexuality, and of course question the negative thoughts u had about dropping the soap.
Daan Da Maan – How could you milk an almond?
Well long trip away from home, a lonely hotel room and not willing to engage much at church the next morning usual puts me in that mood to Milk Almond
Ladylovely – How would you milk an almond, in detail?
It’s all starts with the song,
and tig ol bitties
and awww skeet skeet skeet skeet…
After the appearence from Team Twerk it’s pretty much a wrap
I noticed you have attached your tv to the wall. How did you take care of the cabling?
It is a post modern art installment There are no cables and the piece is called the Western Soul.
Why is your couch blue?
It matches my gray Batman underwear, and I walk around my house in my underpants because well, I dont know why I never grew out of that phase as a child
What’s your favorite color?
It changes often. Today my favorite color is that weird bluish grey that the sky become right before the sun rises.
Have you ever farted in public?
Only fart in forests because no one hears it, and I escape accountability for it because the animals there shit all over everything
Why did you hide your chin in the picture?
Because I had just finished messily eating some roasted peanuts and I didnt want to be photographed with nuts on my chin. It’s a common heterosexual thing
What’s the point of our existence?
Your beard is good, and your good at finding short cuts around this part of town.
What’s the point of your existence?
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot (me) full of sound and fury,
What’s the point of my existence?
Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion be your
tutor. Suit the action to the word, the word to the action, with this
special observance, that you o’erstep not the modesty of nature. For
anything so o’erdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end both
at the first and now, was and is, to hold as ’twere, the mirror up
to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image,
and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure.
Do I exist?
What a piece of work is Daan! How noble in
reason, how infinite in faculty! In form and moving
how express and admirable! In action how like an Angel!
in apprehension how like a god! The beauty of the
world! The paragon of animals! And yet to me, what is
this quintessence of dust? Daan delights not me
Am I a figment of your imagination?
Until we meet and drink, I cannot attest to how real you are. I have been off my medication for a while
If you could be any animal, what would it be?
I’m torn between an eagle and a male lion. I will pick a Griffin, a mythological beast that is the king of all animals. Griffins mated for life and lived a solitary existence when its mate died. I’m guessing I would be mated to loneliness. “I would be married, but I’d have no wife, I would be married to a single life.” -Bukowski Seriously I would be a domesticated black tomcat, the kind that is let out into the night, and swallowed into the silent oblivion of shadows, dreams and a misguided restlessness
When was the first time you had sex and EVERYTHING was perfect? **** (see note)
hmmmm… To me the best part of sex is that it will always defy perfection. I could have always thrusted harder but either she had to work the next day or her health insurance has a bad copay for hip replacement… The sheets could have been neater before … I should have remembered to turn off the tv because doing it to an episode of Law and Order is so 1985.. It could have been an hour earlier when I initially wanted to and felt super sexy , I could have been more vocal but her cat was just sitting on the furniture looking me in the eye the whole time… So to make a long story short, if there is every a time when I feel that everything is perfect during sex it would probably be my mind trying to compensate for the bitterness of masturbating while listen to the 11pm news alone in a clean house
There was this one time though, as can be expected, my first time which was remarkable to me. It was one of those things that reconfirmed in me an experience of the grandiosity of life. It was a catalyst in that many things like beauty, lust, love, coquettishness left the realm of the abstract and obtuse and became real and tangible things. However what was more interesting looking back on things was that it presented me with an understanding of subtlety, subtlety of form, subtlety of expression of, and of course silent subtlety. This would be like the first time I Monet in a wide painting at the Met in the city and from what appeared to be a clash of minutia became a subtle interplay of light on the edges of lillies in a beautiful wonderous pond. Suddenly to me there was depth to existence which in the 22 years before, there was no depth there was just isolation loneliness and pain now there was a light that was just faint enough to illuminate my involvement in a larger interplay.
Chocolate, vanilla, or strawberry?
This may come as a shock but I don’t really like ice cream. When I do have ice cream I really like the ice cream truck ice-cream the plain vanilla one. When I learned my lady was pregnant that night I was happy and nervous and ate a whole tub of Neapolitan Ice cream It was a cornucopious feast for my senses, it was the closest I have come to experiences excess of such Bacchanalian proportions other than this one time in Vegas
What’s your favorite Mel Brooks movie?
When I was a kid I loved Mel Brooks and his movies. I loved Space Balls. I saw it before I saw star wars. Actually I saw star wars for the first time in jr years HS. I know its blasphemy but I didnt find it as interesting and cool as I thought it be. But I did love Dracula dead and loving it, Robin Hood Men In Tights I think those were the only ones I saw. I saw clips of history of the world. I tried watching them again and for the most part they serve only now as gateways to a time lost, buried under the dust of the passage of my life from one station to another.
What’s your favorite Monty Python skit?
I have never seen a Python skit, told you I wasnt cool! What would you recommend ? I have started to get into watching movies again. For the last 13+ years I have not watched tv or watched movies. Recently I started movies again last year because it was a distraction from the depressive episode I had
If someone gave you a fruitcake for the holidays, who would you regift it to?
I do not have many friends who I give baked goods too. I would prolly give it to my refrigerator. I would tell myself I can find someone to re-gift
Why did the Dinosaurs die, well because you touch yourself at night.
Why – because at the end of the day knowledge gleamed from books pales in comparison to an insight gained experientially. An experience of being alive trumps all thoughts about what life is, what life could be and where
If you could be a painter from the past, who would you be? And why?
My top painters from the past who I really enjoy: Monet, Manet, Seurrat, Toulouse-Lautrec, Degas, Renoir, Picasso, Braque, van Gogh, Windlow Homer, Matisse, Miro, El Greco, Dali, Titian, Vasquez and I can go on actually. It is hard to pick from such a group but the one I woul;d say I had the most fun with would be Dali. The only issue I have against being Dali would be having a homosexual relationships with the Spanish Poet Garcia Lorca and his other male lovers, and his weird open marriage with his wife Gala. I like the fecundity and assertiveness of his imagination which I feels matches my own at times.
If you could go back and give advice to yourself at a younger age, what age would you go back to and what advice would you give?
If I could go back in time I would give myself a hug and pat on the back and say three things
- Whatever you have in your mind – forget it;
- Whatever you have in your hand – give it;
- Whatever is to be your fate – face it!
Then I would laugh and say I don’t know what I am suppose to tell you. So far inwardly your life is rich now but will become richer than anyone will ever know. That feeling of not belonging will never go away. No one will really get you, and as a result you will learned to play with shadows and mirrors, presenting most people what they want to see while keeping the best of yourself for the few close people in your life and the stray animals that pass your way. The extreme shyness you have now will go away but never completely. Trust . I’d then recite this and then disappear
J’ai perdu ma force et ma vie,
Et mes amis et ma gaîté ;
J’ai perdu jusqu’à la fierté
Qui faisait croire à mon génie.
Quand j’ai connu la Vérité,
J’ai cru que c’était une amie ;
Quand je l’ai comprise et sentie,
J’en étais déjà dégoûté.
Et pourtant elle est éternelle,
Et ceux qui se sont passés d’elle
Ici-bas ont tout ignoré.
I lost my strength and my life,
My friends and my joy;
I lost till the pride
That made my genius believable.
When I knew Truth,
I thought she was a friend;
When I understood and felt her,
I was already disgusted by her.
Although, she is eternal,
And those who did without her
On this Earth didn’t understand anything.
Which of your blog posts is your most favorite?
I don’t remember many of my posts. Sometimes I search through the blog to see if I have covered a certain topic. Generally the posts I most like writing are the one no one has read.
My favorite post is one that I probably won’t write. I would love to divest myself of the many masks I wear: Dave the Science Guy, Dave the Joker, Dave the writer, Dave the guy who broods in the shadows, Dave the guy who walks through the city late at night because I he cannot reconcile his inward view of living with answering the monotonous demands of daily living. I am all of these and yet none of these things.
Souvent, pour s’amuser, les hommes d’équipage
Prennent des albatros, vastes oiseaux des mers,
Qui suivent, indolents compagnons de voyage,
Le navire glissant sur les gouffres amers.
À peine les ont-ils déposés sur les planches,
Que ces rois de l’azur, maladroits et honteux,
Laissent piteusement leurs grandes ailes blanches
Comme des avirons traîner à côté d’eux.
Ce voyageur ailé, comme il est gauche et veule!
Lui, naguère si beau, qu’il est comique et laid!
Often, to amuse themselves, the men of a crew
Catch albatrosses, those vast sea birds
That indolently follow a ship
As it glides over the deep, briny sea.
Scarcely have they placed them on the deck
Than these kings of the sky, clumsy, ashamed,
Pathetically let their great white wings
Drag beside them like oars.
That winged voyager, how weak and gauche he is,
So beautiful before, now comic and ugly!
Do you have any religion now?
This is interesting question, it begs the question can one really possess a religion ? has it become that much of a manufactured product? I do not follow a religion though during a period in my life I studied a few, traveled a bit and met many interesting people in a search for answers. Perhaps I could by G I Gurdjieff of my generation? I have always thought about writing these experiences to share with others but …to answer your question I am a very spiritual person and I’d say my religion is that of tavern hunting:
Being a tavern haunter means
Being sprung free of yourself.
The tavern is where lovers tryst,
Where the bird of the soul comes to rest
In a sanctuary beyond space and time.
The tavern haunter wanders lonely in a desert
And sees the whole world as a mirage.
The desert is limitless and endless —
No one has seen its beginning or its end,
And even if you wandered in it a hundred years
You would not find yourself, or anyone else.
What is your most favorite topic here?
This site is a simulacra of life, there is no over reaching point for its existence. One day it came and one day it will go. It has had many forms and shapes and will have many more. The individual topics change post to post moment to moment but there is an overall topic that emerges and is emerging the longer it continues that is always in front of my face but unknown to me, maybe you can see it and let me know ?
I don’t really have a favorite topic I have written about mysticism, having sex behind a dumpster, I have taken a picture of me on the toilet, talked about my struggles with depression and being violently sick on a construction site at 2 am in the Bronx and having to relieve myself from both ends 100 -200 feet away from a potential drug deal. Its all a mess
Who are your dream girl celebrities? (Just for fun – both white and non-white)
There is no greater, there is no more iconoclastic support of healthy international relationship than my manly parts. They do not discriminate on the basis of race, skin color, creed, religion, political affiliation. If we are talking just on the basis of looks and having lady bits then there are few few women who wouldn’t qualify as a dream girl for me.
What’s your love song with your long-time lady love? (C’mon, I’m sure you’ve got one)
We don’t have a song per say, but there are songs that I sing to her at inappropriate times like at the post office or in line at the market, sometimes accompanied by an awkward dance. There are other songs that I know she doesn’t like so I sing to her to annoy her. Some of the songs include: Superfreak by Rick James Earth Wind and Fire Fantasy, Last Christmas by Wham, the Divinyls when I touch myself, Rock Your baby By George McCrae, Sitting on the Dock of the Bay by Otis redding, Midnight trian to Georgia. After 10 years I guess there are many more songs. Sometimes I completely change the lyrics around to something perverse, I’ve done this with the classic song I am a rock by Simon and Garfunkel and a few Disney songs. There is one song its not our “song” that always takes me back to the early days: it’s Al Greens let’s stay together
***** From james Joyces Portrait of the artist
A girl stood before him in midstream, alone and still, gazing out to sea. She seemed like one whom magic had changed into the likeness of a strange and beautiful seabird. Her long slender bare legs were delicate as a crane’s and pure save where an emerald trail of seaweed had fashioned itself as a sign upon the flesh. Her thighs, fuller and soft-hued as ivory, were bared almost to the hips, where the white fringes of her drawers were like feathering of soft white down. Her slate-blue skirts were kilted boldly about her waist and dovetailed behind her. Her bosom was as a bird’s, soft and slight, slight and soft as the breast of some dark-plumaged dove. But her long fair hair was girlish: and girlish, and touched with the wonder of mortal beauty, her face.
She was alone and still, gazing out to sea; and when she felt his presence and the worship of his eyes her eyes turned to him in quiet sufferance of his gaze, without shame or wantonness. Long, long she suffered his gaze and then quietly withdrew her eyes from his and bent them towards the stream, gently stirring the water with her foot hither and thither. The first faint noise of gently moving water broke the silence, low and faint and whispering, faint as the bells of sleep; hither and thither, hither and thither; and a faint flame trembled on her cheek.
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