Saturday, May 4, 2013

The Peppers Papers

Fair Warning - NSFW

This blog is NSFW. That literally means Not Safe for Work. It also means that there could be copious amounts of violence, nudity, explosions, drugs, alcohol, profanity, and various other forms of mental debauchery. If you are under the age of 18, have any reservations about any of the above you should move on.  If, on the other hand, personal debasement is a dear hobby of yours, carry on. We'll have a great time.

This first post will disappoint those of you still reading. However, keep in mind that we're just getting warmed up. A little fluffing before the main bang begins, as it were.


       I've always enjoyed writing. I'm not terribly good at it, mind you. But I enjoy the fuck out of it. Lately, I've been doing a lot more of it and have been contemplating starting a new blog, or some other form of socialized media, to float some this out there.

       I've done hobby blogs before. That's not what I wanted. I'm a member of every social site out there. No, that's not it either. Most of my writing is private. Very private, in fact. What I do decide to share needs to be in a quick, easy, words only format. Google's Blogger has always been there for me. I'm sticking with what I know.

       The rationale behind writing again is freedom. Confession time, and without pointing any fingers. For a long time I didn't think I could write. Flat out truth? Fear. There were people in my life that, honestly, simply would not approve of what I wrote. I felt the need to present nice, orderly, well control thoughts and emotions. My ideas clearly didn't have value if the one I loved disapproved, right? Best to put that away and make everything okay. Keep the peace. Keep everything on an even keel.

       Which is horseshit.

       The problem with this line of thinking is obvious to anyone not actually in the situation. If you've ever been in the situation, though, you know exactly what I mean. In the end, suppressing who you are and what you think and feel is never a good idea. Granted, you need to be damn sure you know who you are and what you actually feel. It's easy to go overboard and into the realm of pathological egotism. "I'll do whatever the fuck I want when I want!" That's not right either.

       It's the ability to express yourself and be comfortable with the repercussion. Expressing your inner thoughts and emotions is, as the saying goes, like dancing and masterbation. Everyone does in the privacy of their own home. But only the truly brave do it in public.*

       The name, the name, ah what's in a name?

       The Peppers Papers comes from the once famous Tulsa restaurant named Peppers. Not the new Peppers, the old one out on 61st & Sheridan that is long gone. For many people, their formative time was high school, or college. For me it was a bar with great chicken fried steak and gravy fries.

       I grew up there. My coming of age, so to speak, happened largely either at that restaurant or as a direct result of events that occurred at that restaurant. A perfect example, the three most important women to happen to me all in some fashion revolved around that place. The First One, The Unobtainable One, and The Perfect One. I'm sure there's a paper or twenty in each one of those stories, and a hundred others that come out of my friends, love, hate, death and living life.

       Recent massive, gut wrenching changes have brought back some of that "live life" feeling. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired losing. If I lose, it won't be from waiting, damn it. That's a dumbass reason for losing. Better to have at it and let it sting like a motherfucker than sit around waiting for something to happen, right? Damn straight.
       Feel free to comment and share below. The comment section is unrestricted, except for spam. Blatant trolls will shot on sight. Keep in mind that I (and anyone else that visits) reserve the right to mock you mercilessly if you're a dick in my comments section. Lively discussion, thoughtful commentary, and outright blatant lies are welcome.

       I won't be sharing everything here, of course. Some things are best left on the inside. That incident with the champaign and the chubby stripper in New Orleans is one. There's only one guy out there in the wide world that knows that one and we'll probably both just hang on to it, thank you very much. We won't even get near the whole "boys will be girls" debacle. But there's plenty more fodder for the mind mill. Plenty more to put down and turn loose in The Peppers Papers.


PS Okay, I promised something NSFW... Let's see what we have. Ah! Here we go. I'm not a big fan of the Huffington Post, but this is fascinating. I'm pretty sure with the right makeup, I could be a female porn star. It's good to have career options. What color is your parachute, indeed.

* I don't care how brave you are. Please don't masturbate in public. No one wants to see that. Serious.

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