BBW-Native/Hispanic Warrior wanted - 50 (Denver)
Are you the MAN, the WARRIOR I’ve been looking for? Are you a SINGLE - Native or Hispanic man, 48-58 yrs old ?
Tired of being alone and long to have a GOOD WOMAN by your side? Looking for someone to enjoy and share what life has to offer? Are you searching for a woman you can spend time with and perhaps be in that lasting beautiful relationship with? Are you honest, kind, gentle and past all the head/heart games, date only one woman at a time? Please be D/D free, a non-smoker and non-drinker, I am.
If you think you may be the MAN, the WARRIOR, I've been looking for, take a chance and respond, you just never know...
Reply with “I AM A WARRIOR” in the subject line and maybe a pic so I know you are real. This is not a porn site, NO SPAMMERS, BOTS OR REFERRALS TO WEB SITES.
Location: Denver
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
PostingID: 1663026427
Colin Heintze to pers-XXXXXXXXXXXX
Look no further, for I am he that you seek.
You desire a warrior, and let me assure you my many brave deeds on the field of battle have been recorded on both the codices of the huichilibos and the lips of my enemies. It is because of these deeds - the taking of ten enemy heads, and the capture of fifteen strong-bodied males for sacrifice - that in this year five-reed I have been welcomed into the ranks of the Jaguars, the royal cohorts of his most exalted son-of-the-sun and living god Axayacatl. My war-club has tasted the scalps of Tlaxicalans and Palenquens alike, and by my actions dozens have been marched to the altar to have their blood fed to Tlaltecuhtli. And, I say with no reserved pride that, because of these actions by myself and my brother-warriors her belly is filled to the point that she regurgitates the sun every morning. It is from this act of divine violence that the earth may be warmed and the maize grow to fill our larders and feed our people.
I must be honest, however - I do play head games. I was, before my induction into the Jaguars, a forward lineman in the sacred sport of ullamaliztli. As you undoubtedly know, we typically use the head of a captured enemy as our ball, and as a result I cannot say with truthfulness that I never scored a winning goal using the severed head of a Chimpoloazan warrior. Heart games, however, I rarely play - those are reserved only for the priestly classes of which I am not a member.
But, there is a time when even great slayers must put down the club and pick up the plough. For that, I need a woman - a strong-hipped, hearty woman, one who is clever and useful and will not weave vile sorceries. A woman who, upon my death, will throw herself into the sacrifice-fires to guide me down the four-year path to Mictlan. A woman who will bear me sons that sing of their ancestors as I do today. Are you her?
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Friday, March 26, 2010
RE: The most absurd post ever on CL just got absurd-er
The most absurd post ever on CL just got absurd-er - 29 (Seoul)--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: 2010-03-26, 5:00PM KST
Reply To This Post
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Woman, without her man, is nothing.
Woman: Without her, man is nothing.
Right. So I am no Lynne Truss or Germaine Greer. I am just a busy career woman with little time to invest in a proper relationship. Oh wait, I’d definitely go the extra mile and extra hour raised to the power n for the right person; but that’s beside the point. The point here is that I just don’t want to sit with you in a coffee shop exchanging platitudes, all the while aware that both of us are busy determining the expiration time of that ill-fated meet. I’d much rather read The Da Vinci Code. Backwards.
What I want is just this: Let’s spend a day together believing (read: pretending) we are in a real relationship. I don’t want to see you again after that day, and you’d probably be running a hundred miles away from me even before I say good-bye to you. Easy-peesy! All I ask for is a *real* touch, kiss and hug. Okay, make all those plural nouns; but nothing beyond that. Sounds good?
And this is where this absurd idea turns into a ‘Is-she-for-real?’ thought bubble circling over your head -- I don’t have any sky-high requirements of you. I am not looking for someone hanging from the branches of Einstein’s family tree. Just be a good person, speak good English and be smart. And yes, a non-Korean between the ages of 30 and 35 please.
PS1. If you manage to stop guffawing/snickering at the absurdity of this idea, and do decide to write to me, tell me why this appeals to you in more than a sentence. In fact, feel free to write an essay.
2. Don’t send me any pictures. If you are attachment-obsessed, send me your 100+ page document detailing a sustainable development plan in the field of your choice.
3. You will under no circumstances have to hold my handbag. Promise!
Edited to add:
Q: How do you make something already absurd reach the pinnacle of absurdity?
A: Read on, and you shall be enlightened.
Colin Heintze to persXXXXXXXXXXXXXX. show details 11:59 pm (0 minutes ago)
One day? Sounds good to me. I won't be in port much longer than dat.
Some guys down in the bogs, dey like it in port. Dey don't belong, not like me. Real man knows life on land is a sucker's life. Real man don't care nuttin for that muck -fancy restaurants, little princesses sippin at their dry vermouth, all dat. Dey don't get it, not like me.
I'm a fireman aboard the Liner Victoria. Dat's two turbines, 200 feet from stern to prow, and six decks displacing 80,000 cubic yards of water. I'm like you. I love my woik, so yous could say I'm career-orieneted too. Some guys down der in the bog, like dem Poles an Slovaks an Danes, dey don't care bout nothin but a paycheck. All dem's want is to get a little dough an blow it in port on whiskey an house-girls. Not me. I get it, see? I belong. I know dat when I got dat shovel in my hands an I'm feedin dat beast it's me dat makes her go, not dem squareheads up on the first deck or those snoots in engineering. Me, I make da woild go, an I don't need no pat on the back or no fancy bars pinned to my shoulders to tell dem I got woith. I've fed more to the furnace then Lucifer hisself, an anyone says different I'll knock em halfway across the starboard but good. Dat's me. I get it. I don't take nuttin from nobody. Tree-hundred days a year I see nuttin but coal an pig-iron, cause it takes a real man to work in Hell.
But hey, it's lonely down der, right? If I don't have de fires an my shovel keep me company, what else can I do? Ain't nuttin good on land, but if I'm not woiking den I get to thinkin dat maybe the furnaces would go on alright without me. Maybe da woild would keep going, I think. I don't like thinkin. I like gettin my hands dirty an havin a good sweat goin on my forehead an lettin the shovel do de thinkin for me. Maybe we could meet up?
Date: 2010-03-26, 5:00PM KST
Reply To This Post
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Woman, without her man, is nothing.
Woman: Without her, man is nothing.
Right. So I am no Lynne Truss or Germaine Greer. I am just a busy career woman with little time to invest in a proper relationship. Oh wait, I’d definitely go the extra mile and extra hour raised to the power n for the right person; but that’s beside the point. The point here is that I just don’t want to sit with you in a coffee shop exchanging platitudes, all the while aware that both of us are busy determining the expiration time of that ill-fated meet. I’d much rather read The Da Vinci Code. Backwards.
What I want is just this: Let’s spend a day together believing (read: pretending) we are in a real relationship. I don’t want to see you again after that day, and you’d probably be running a hundred miles away from me even before I say good-bye to you. Easy-peesy! All I ask for is a *real* touch, kiss and hug. Okay, make all those plural nouns; but nothing beyond that. Sounds good?
And this is where this absurd idea turns into a ‘Is-she-for-real?’ thought bubble circling over your head -- I don’t have any sky-high requirements of you. I am not looking for someone hanging from the branches of Einstein’s family tree. Just be a good person, speak good English and be smart. And yes, a non-Korean between the ages of 30 and 35 please.
PS1. If you manage to stop guffawing/snickering at the absurdity of this idea, and do decide to write to me, tell me why this appeals to you in more than a sentence. In fact, feel free to write an essay.
2. Don’t send me any pictures. If you are attachment-obsessed, send me your 100+ page document detailing a sustainable development plan in the field of your choice.
3. You will under no circumstances have to hold my handbag. Promise!
Edited to add:
Q: How do you make something already absurd reach the pinnacle of absurdity?
A: Read on, and you shall be enlightened.
Colin Heintze to persXXXXXXXXXXXXXX. show details 11:59 pm (0 minutes ago)
One day? Sounds good to me. I won't be in port much longer than dat.
Some guys down in the bogs, dey like it in port. Dey don't belong, not like me. Real man knows life on land is a sucker's life. Real man don't care nuttin for that muck -fancy restaurants, little princesses sippin at their dry vermouth, all dat. Dey don't get it, not like me.
I'm a fireman aboard the Liner Victoria. Dat's two turbines, 200 feet from stern to prow, and six decks displacing 80,000 cubic yards of water. I'm like you. I love my woik, so yous could say I'm career-orieneted too. Some guys down der in the bog, like dem Poles an Slovaks an Danes, dey don't care bout nothin but a paycheck. All dem's want is to get a little dough an blow it in port on whiskey an house-girls. Not me. I get it, see? I belong. I know dat when I got dat shovel in my hands an I'm feedin dat beast it's me dat makes her go, not dem squareheads up on the first deck or those snoots in engineering. Me, I make da woild go, an I don't need no pat on the back or no fancy bars pinned to my shoulders to tell dem I got woith. I've fed more to the furnace then Lucifer hisself, an anyone says different I'll knock em halfway across the starboard but good. Dat's me. I get it. I don't take nuttin from nobody. Tree-hundred days a year I see nuttin but coal an pig-iron, cause it takes a real man to work in Hell.
But hey, it's lonely down der, right? If I don't have de fires an my shovel keep me company, what else can I do? Ain't nuttin good on land, but if I'm not woiking den I get to thinkin dat maybe the furnaces would go on alright without me. Maybe da woild would keep going, I think. I don't like thinkin. I like gettin my hands dirty an havin a good sweat goin on my forehead an lettin the shovel do de thinkin for me. Maybe we could meet up?
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
I'm the Positive Guy who Thinky Kinky LOL
I'm the Positive Guy who Thinky Kinky LOL - 26 (Seoul)
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Date: 2010-03-25, 1:26AM KT
Reply To This Post
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Hi all you lovely lasses and great gals out in craigslist country! Ben Spock here, meet to please you lol! I'm the conductor on this crazy train called love and am looking for a co-pilot to ride the rails of life with. I'm single, ready to mingle, equal parts Goofus and Gallant and looking for the same - silly, sassy, sardonic, and wanting to indulge in extreme historical rape scenarios.
I don't want any Gloomy Gails or Bitter Bettys. You only live once, so live laughing! You'll always see a face on my grin, cause I'm not the kind of guy to get the sniffles if life doesn't go my way. Not like the hundreds of thousands of Chinese women violated by Japanese soldiers during Japan's brutal twelve-year occupation of the Chinese mainland, which we'll be playing if you decide to take a ride with this wild and crazy guy lol! Don't judge me, that's why it's called a kink - it puts a twist in all those stiff necks out there!
Okay, I'll be the first to admit it - I'm no Alec Baldwin... not even a Billy Baldwin! I love life and don't take myself too seriously, so you won't see me strutting around showing off my muscles or drinking protein shakes. They call em' love handles cause' you gotta be able to handle them to love me, baby! Honestly though, you won't be seeing much of me through my uniform, as we will be reenacting the fall of Berlin with you as a panicking German woman and me as a rampaging Soviet commander ordered by the Politburo to drive the Germans West through a sustained campaign of terror and sexual violence.
Don't worry, I'm not just into modern scenarios, either! Those who don't remember history are... I can't remember, but it sounded good lol! Of course, The millions of women living prior to the twentieth century forcibly penetrated by their husbands with no legal protection couldn't forget!
So, if you're a lover of life, a cheeky chick with an amazing attitude, and have an urge for extreme debasement and sexual domination in a historical setting, hit me up. Don't be like the women of 1990's Kosovo - say yes!
Location: Seoul
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: 2010-03-25, 1:26AM KT
Reply To This Post
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hi all you lovely lasses and great gals out in craigslist country! Ben Spock here, meet to please you lol! I'm the conductor on this crazy train called love and am looking for a co-pilot to ride the rails of life with. I'm single, ready to mingle, equal parts Goofus and Gallant and looking for the same - silly, sassy, sardonic, and wanting to indulge in extreme historical rape scenarios.
I don't want any Gloomy Gails or Bitter Bettys. You only live once, so live laughing! You'll always see a face on my grin, cause I'm not the kind of guy to get the sniffles if life doesn't go my way. Not like the hundreds of thousands of Chinese women violated by Japanese soldiers during Japan's brutal twelve-year occupation of the Chinese mainland, which we'll be playing if you decide to take a ride with this wild and crazy guy lol! Don't judge me, that's why it's called a kink - it puts a twist in all those stiff necks out there!
Okay, I'll be the first to admit it - I'm no Alec Baldwin... not even a Billy Baldwin! I love life and don't take myself too seriously, so you won't see me strutting around showing off my muscles or drinking protein shakes. They call em' love handles cause' you gotta be able to handle them to love me, baby! Honestly though, you won't be seeing much of me through my uniform, as we will be reenacting the fall of Berlin with you as a panicking German woman and me as a rampaging Soviet commander ordered by the Politburo to drive the Germans West through a sustained campaign of terror and sexual violence.
Don't worry, I'm not just into modern scenarios, either! Those who don't remember history are... I can't remember, but it sounded good lol! Of course, The millions of women living prior to the twentieth century forcibly penetrated by their husbands with no legal protection couldn't forget!
So, if you're a lover of life, a cheeky chick with an amazing attitude, and have an urge for extreme debasement and sexual domination in a historical setting, hit me up. Don't be like the women of 1990's Kosovo - say yes!
Location: Seoul
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Does Don Fall Flat, or Score Big Returns?
Does Don Fall Flat, or Score Big Returns? - 26 (Seoul)
Date: 2010-02-18, 1:22AM KT
What can a man badly in need of a date say to convince a prospective girlfriend? How can he win her over? That’s the premise of this post, aptly titled “Does Don Fall Flat, or Score Big Returns?”
Hi, I’m Don Fall, nationally syndicated film critic appearing in over two-hundred newspaper and entertainment columns. I’m looking for a date. I’m sick of these formulaic, pedestrian dates that place style over substance and big budgets over heart. I’m not looking for action and gratuitous sex to appeal to some kind of base, lowest-common-denominator adolescent demographic. I’m tired of hackneyed sequels and reboots of old girlfriends. I’m looking for a real smartly-crafted date, one with a tight focus on character development and pacing, such as one of the many excellent foreign dates to have come out in the last several years.
I’ve been on several bad dates before. Take 2002’s putrid Date With Elissa, Roma Italiano Ristorante. The lead Elissa never seemed comfortable in her role, and as a result her performance came off as wooden and flat. Clearly, she was hired for her looks and not her ability, evidenced by several squirm-inducing scenes in which she was asked questions concerning current events. Accordingly, male lead Don seemed burden with carrying the date, though his glaring frustration with the role ensured neither character was portrayed very sympathetically. The garish, baroque set-pieces couldn’t make up for what was, in essence, weak dialogue and atrocious lighting. The sole highlight of the date occurred during the awkward, unsatisfying goodnight hug, leading many to speculate as to the date’s existentialist leanings (this reviewer not among them).
D+
Then, there was 2006’s Date With Amy, The Cheesecake Factory. This date showed promise in the early scenes, but ultimately failed as the second and third act dragged on with no foreseeable climax. Initially, the principle players seemed to have created a good report that translated well into the typical genre date. However, once Amy was taken to Don’s apartment, after a lengthy and wholly unnecessary scene at a bar, the date began to unravel. Insider gossip informs me that this was perhaps only Amy’s second date ever, which would explain the amateurish quality of her performance in the third act. While the sophomore effort was noteworthy for its earnestness, the talent was clearly lacking from the beginning. Coupled with the lead’s inability to properly find the right angles, this date could be described as an underwhelming effort, especially considering the amount of hype it received in the weeks before opening.
C+
Of course, they haven’t all been bad. Take 2005’s indie erotic thriller Date with Bridgette, Lilliput Mini-Golf. This low budget exploitation date, while decried for its graphic depiction of female sexuality, reminded us of why we constantly revisit the genre despite its objectionable content. In spite of its shoe-string budget and predictable ending, Date With Bridgette proved to be the sleeper hit of 2005. If there was one drawback to this otherwise gritty and unabashedly graphic date, it was the length – at only seventy minutes long, it left audiences wanting for more, and the producer has so far been tight-lipped about fans’ requests for a sequel.
A-
So, if you can deliver ninety minutes of clever dialogue, original content, and nuanced performances, definitely get in touch. With me, you can “Fall” in love with dating once again!
* Location: Seoul
* it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
Date: 2010-02-18, 1:22AM KT
What can a man badly in need of a date say to convince a prospective girlfriend? How can he win her over? That’s the premise of this post, aptly titled “Does Don Fall Flat, or Score Big Returns?”
Hi, I’m Don Fall, nationally syndicated film critic appearing in over two-hundred newspaper and entertainment columns. I’m looking for a date. I’m sick of these formulaic, pedestrian dates that place style over substance and big budgets over heart. I’m not looking for action and gratuitous sex to appeal to some kind of base, lowest-common-denominator adolescent demographic. I’m tired of hackneyed sequels and reboots of old girlfriends. I’m looking for a real smartly-crafted date, one with a tight focus on character development and pacing, such as one of the many excellent foreign dates to have come out in the last several years.
I’ve been on several bad dates before. Take 2002’s putrid Date With Elissa, Roma Italiano Ristorante. The lead Elissa never seemed comfortable in her role, and as a result her performance came off as wooden and flat. Clearly, she was hired for her looks and not her ability, evidenced by several squirm-inducing scenes in which she was asked questions concerning current events. Accordingly, male lead Don seemed burden with carrying the date, though his glaring frustration with the role ensured neither character was portrayed very sympathetically. The garish, baroque set-pieces couldn’t make up for what was, in essence, weak dialogue and atrocious lighting. The sole highlight of the date occurred during the awkward, unsatisfying goodnight hug, leading many to speculate as to the date’s existentialist leanings (this reviewer not among them).
D+
Then, there was 2006’s Date With Amy, The Cheesecake Factory. This date showed promise in the early scenes, but ultimately failed as the second and third act dragged on with no foreseeable climax. Initially, the principle players seemed to have created a good report that translated well into the typical genre date. However, once Amy was taken to Don’s apartment, after a lengthy and wholly unnecessary scene at a bar, the date began to unravel. Insider gossip informs me that this was perhaps only Amy’s second date ever, which would explain the amateurish quality of her performance in the third act. While the sophomore effort was noteworthy for its earnestness, the talent was clearly lacking from the beginning. Coupled with the lead’s inability to properly find the right angles, this date could be described as an underwhelming effort, especially considering the amount of hype it received in the weeks before opening.
C+
Of course, they haven’t all been bad. Take 2005’s indie erotic thriller Date with Bridgette, Lilliput Mini-Golf. This low budget exploitation date, while decried for its graphic depiction of female sexuality, reminded us of why we constantly revisit the genre despite its objectionable content. In spite of its shoe-string budget and predictable ending, Date With Bridgette proved to be the sleeper hit of 2005. If there was one drawback to this otherwise gritty and unabashedly graphic date, it was the length – at only seventy minutes long, it left audiences wanting for more, and the producer has so far been tight-lipped about fans’ requests for a sequel.
A-
So, if you can deliver ninety minutes of clever dialogue, original content, and nuanced performances, definitely get in touch. With me, you can “Fall” in love with dating once again!
* Location: Seoul
* it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Looking to Move On...
Looking to Move On... - 26 (Seoul)
Date: 2010-02-04, 10:51PM KT
Reply To This Post
Hello ladies. I’m a single man who just moved to Seoul and needs a little companionship. To be honest, I’m not really all that interested in dating, but my parents and my friends have told me it’s time to move on… time to start over… time to forget.
Physically, I’m about 5’10”, 185 lbs. That’s about fifteen pounds than I used to be, but I haven’t had much motivation to exercise, or do anything else, lately. Really Julie, I promise I’ll get off the couch and catch some sunlight when the winter's through.
Shit. I just called you Julie, didn’t I? Sorry. Force of habit.
I’m not much of a drinker/clubber type, so party girls need not apply. Truthfully, I haven’t left the house much these last couple of months. I’ve been having a little trouble getting over my ex.
I’ve just missed you so much. I don’t care what my friends thought. As far as I’m concerned, you were the right one for me. It doesn’t matter if you made more money than me, or that we liked different things, or that you slept with Ryan Jacobs that two weeks we were broken up. I loved you and I know you loved me.
I still remember the day you were taken away from me. “Freak accident”. That was what they called it. Really, they’re just trying to cover their asses. They should have cleared all those rocks from the road. Didn’t it occur to them that maybe, just maybe, a big eighteen-wheeler might drive by and shoot one of those bastards up? I… I wish I knew what had happened, maybe I could have helped. I thought you had fainted. One minute you were walking next to me and the next…well, you just fell Julie, how was I supposed to know what to do? How could I -
- Dammit. My shrink said this might happen. I’m sorry ladies, but it’s very hard for me to focus right now.
Anyways, I’m looking for a good-hearted girl who can help me out through these tough times. If possible, I would prefer for you to be about 5’6”, 115 lbs, with blond hair with short bangs but that cute little frayed look at the back you always wore. I’d also be thrilled if you had that birthmark on your right shoulder and that sleepy look you always had when you had too much wine.
Also, bonus points if your name is, or will answer to, “Julie”.
* Location: Seoul
* it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
PostingID: 1585388776
Date: 2010-02-04, 10:51PM KT
Reply To This Post
Hello ladies. I’m a single man who just moved to Seoul and needs a little companionship. To be honest, I’m not really all that interested in dating, but my parents and my friends have told me it’s time to move on… time to start over… time to forget.
Physically, I’m about 5’10”, 185 lbs. That’s about fifteen pounds than I used to be, but I haven’t had much motivation to exercise, or do anything else, lately. Really Julie, I promise I’ll get off the couch and catch some sunlight when the winter's through.
Shit. I just called you Julie, didn’t I? Sorry. Force of habit.
I’m not much of a drinker/clubber type, so party girls need not apply. Truthfully, I haven’t left the house much these last couple of months. I’ve been having a little trouble getting over my ex.
I’ve just missed you so much. I don’t care what my friends thought. As far as I’m concerned, you were the right one for me. It doesn’t matter if you made more money than me, or that we liked different things, or that you slept with Ryan Jacobs that two weeks we were broken up. I loved you and I know you loved me.
I still remember the day you were taken away from me. “Freak accident”. That was what they called it. Really, they’re just trying to cover their asses. They should have cleared all those rocks from the road. Didn’t it occur to them that maybe, just maybe, a big eighteen-wheeler might drive by and shoot one of those bastards up? I… I wish I knew what had happened, maybe I could have helped. I thought you had fainted. One minute you were walking next to me and the next…well, you just fell Julie, how was I supposed to know what to do? How could I -
- Dammit. My shrink said this might happen. I’m sorry ladies, but it’s very hard for me to focus right now.
Anyways, I’m looking for a good-hearted girl who can help me out through these tough times. If possible, I would prefer for you to be about 5’6”, 115 lbs, with blond hair with short bangs but that cute little frayed look at the back you always wore. I’d also be thrilled if you had that birthmark on your right shoulder and that sleepy look you always had when you had too much wine.
Also, bonus points if your name is, or will answer to, “Julie”.
* Location: Seoul
* it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
PostingID: 1585388776
Sunday, January 10, 2010
RE: Visiting American BBW Looking For Friendly Soldier
I'm an American female who's visiting a friend for only a few more days. I'm seeking a soldier who wants a good coversation, some flirting and see what happens.
I'm 5ft7 with a thick/curvy/bbw build. I like football and country music (actually I listen to everything too so don't be scared)
All I ask is that you are white or Hispanic, 5ft8 or taller and between 25-35yrs old. And military of course
Write me and send me a pic if your interested. Not looking for just sex-so please no cock pix.
* Location: Itaewon
* it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
Colin Heintze
to pers-49z7c-154.
show details 7:24 AM (17 hours ago)
Would you settle for ex-military? I haven’t been in the Army for quite some time.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hold any grudges. Sure, the army made me what I am, but I let it take me there because, like so many of my fallen brothers, I believed I was a part of something bigger. Freedom. Liberty. Peace. That’s what I fought for.
Of course, pretty soon I wasn’t fighting for anything other than the sheer joy of it. Killing a man changes a person. Killing a whole lot of men – well, that changes you a whole lot too, enough that when you look in the mirror one day you can’t recognize the person beneath the scars and the stress lines anymore. Time came that I couldn’t remember the life I had before. Far as I knew, killin’ was the only thing I was ever, or ever would be, good at.
But, all of that’s over now. I’ve become a man of peace – haunted, yes, but peaceful nonetheless. I’ve spent these last fifteen years trying to make peace with the demons of my past and finally, through all that effort, I’ve found a life I can be content with. I’ve bought myself a riverboat and use it to ferry farmers and peddlers across the Mekong River. It’s not glamorous, and there ain’t much money in it, but at least there’s no killin’. These days, I can even sleep some nights without the nightmares jerking me awake in a cold sweat.
But, I gotta say, General Arnold’s offer has me chomping at the bit. There’s still that part of me that misses the action, the glory. I remember last week when he came to my boat shop. He had his beret in his hand and a look of concern on his face. I knew he wasn’t fakin’ – I served under the man for six years, and knew he was a straight shooter.
“Jesus, Colin.” He said, looking at my shop. “So this is what you’ve been up to all these years.”
“Go away. I don’t associate with Army no more. Not even you, General.”
And, with that, I turned away to work on a rusted motor. Still, the general kept talkin’ at my back.
“The White Demon,” he mused. “that’s what they used to call you. If they could see you now…”
“I’m a man of peace now, dammit! Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“It’s Renegade, Colin. He was doin’ some reconnaissance in Myanmar, very covert stuff. We’ve lost radio contact with him. Intelligence reports say he’s been captured.”
A flood of painful memories come to my mind. The bamboo cages. The canings. Standing half-submerged in a pool of leeches for days – and the whole time only my buddy Renegade there to keep me sane, to remind me I was still human. I don’t know how he managed to smile and joke throughout those months of hell, but if it wasn’t for him I might’ve gone over the edge completely, become something less than human.
“I…I don’t care. I ain’t in the army no more.”
“He was your best friend, Colin, and you abandoned him. You promised Renegade you’d always be there to help him out, and now he needs it! Hell, we can’t do it – if anyone ever had proof we were running missions inside Myanmar illegally… well, I don’t need to tell you what might happen. We need you, Colin. You’re the only man for the job.”
“I told you, I’m different now.”
The general flicked a business card on my desk and walked out my shop.
“You can take the tiger out of the jungle…”
So I’m not a soldier anymore, but doesn’t mean I can’t do a solid for a friend. I swore I’d never pick up a gun again, but if Renegade needs me… I made a promise, an’ I can break the promise to him and lose my integrity, or I can break the promise to myself an’ maybe lose my mind again. That’s how I put the question to myself as I look over General Arnold’s card.
I go to Myanmar next week. Looks like there’s about to be another killin’ time. Let’s hook up before that?
I'm 5ft7 with a thick/curvy/bbw build. I like football and country music (actually I listen to everything too so don't be scared)
All I ask is that you are white or Hispanic, 5ft8 or taller and between 25-35yrs old. And military of course
Write me and send me a pic if your interested. Not looking for just sex-so please no cock pix.
* Location: Itaewon
* it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
Colin Heintze
to pers-49z7c-154.
show details 7:24 AM (17 hours ago)
Would you settle for ex-military? I haven’t been in the Army for quite some time.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hold any grudges. Sure, the army made me what I am, but I let it take me there because, like so many of my fallen brothers, I believed I was a part of something bigger. Freedom. Liberty. Peace. That’s what I fought for.
Of course, pretty soon I wasn’t fighting for anything other than the sheer joy of it. Killing a man changes a person. Killing a whole lot of men – well, that changes you a whole lot too, enough that when you look in the mirror one day you can’t recognize the person beneath the scars and the stress lines anymore. Time came that I couldn’t remember the life I had before. Far as I knew, killin’ was the only thing I was ever, or ever would be, good at.
But, all of that’s over now. I’ve become a man of peace – haunted, yes, but peaceful nonetheless. I’ve spent these last fifteen years trying to make peace with the demons of my past and finally, through all that effort, I’ve found a life I can be content with. I’ve bought myself a riverboat and use it to ferry farmers and peddlers across the Mekong River. It’s not glamorous, and there ain’t much money in it, but at least there’s no killin’. These days, I can even sleep some nights without the nightmares jerking me awake in a cold sweat.
But, I gotta say, General Arnold’s offer has me chomping at the bit. There’s still that part of me that misses the action, the glory. I remember last week when he came to my boat shop. He had his beret in his hand and a look of concern on his face. I knew he wasn’t fakin’ – I served under the man for six years, and knew he was a straight shooter.
“Jesus, Colin.” He said, looking at my shop. “So this is what you’ve been up to all these years.”
“Go away. I don’t associate with Army no more. Not even you, General.”
And, with that, I turned away to work on a rusted motor. Still, the general kept talkin’ at my back.
“The White Demon,” he mused. “that’s what they used to call you. If they could see you now…”
“I’m a man of peace now, dammit! Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“It’s Renegade, Colin. He was doin’ some reconnaissance in Myanmar, very covert stuff. We’ve lost radio contact with him. Intelligence reports say he’s been captured.”
A flood of painful memories come to my mind. The bamboo cages. The canings. Standing half-submerged in a pool of leeches for days – and the whole time only my buddy Renegade there to keep me sane, to remind me I was still human. I don’t know how he managed to smile and joke throughout those months of hell, but if it wasn’t for him I might’ve gone over the edge completely, become something less than human.
“I…I don’t care. I ain’t in the army no more.”
“He was your best friend, Colin, and you abandoned him. You promised Renegade you’d always be there to help him out, and now he needs it! Hell, we can’t do it – if anyone ever had proof we were running missions inside Myanmar illegally… well, I don’t need to tell you what might happen. We need you, Colin. You’re the only man for the job.”
“I told you, I’m different now.”
The general flicked a business card on my desk and walked out my shop.
“You can take the tiger out of the jungle…”
So I’m not a soldier anymore, but doesn’t mean I can’t do a solid for a friend. I swore I’d never pick up a gun again, but if Renegade needs me… I made a promise, an’ I can break the promise to him and lose my integrity, or I can break the promise to myself an’ maybe lose my mind again. That’s how I put the question to myself as I look over General Arnold’s card.
I go to Myanmar next week. Looks like there’s about to be another killin’ time. Let’s hook up before that?
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Any Real Men Out There?
Any Real Men Out There? - 24 (D-Town)
Date: 2010-01-05, 7:36AM MST
Wassup, homeboys? I don know about this internet stuff, since I thought only pussies use this shit, but my homegirl Erika told me to go here if was wantin for a man and I would find one quick – and Erika smart as hell, she’s the one who told me that if I’m under a certain income I can write off food and diapers on my tax return, so now wit all the money I’m savin on taxes I can afford to work less an party more.
So yeah, I want a man, but like not one that’s a total pussy. A dude like my ex Kurt. That fucker cheated on me left an right an one time he even tried to cook meth in my hallway closet but DAMN he was cut, like nine inches and long-lasting too.
I got two kids tho, so I don’t be needing no deadbeats like there daddies were. Kayla, she’s the seven year-old, always seems to get into everything. Last week I come home from a shift at the Rite-Aid an there’s flour an eggs and shit all over the floor. She’s just smiling an says “look I made you dinner, mommy!” Well you’d better believe I gave her a whoopin an made her clean that shit up. She even made this card for me wit me an her standin under a rainbow an used my good lipstick to color in the red. I had to wait a half hour after my shift was over for homegirl Yvonne to come in and watch out for the manager while I swiped that shit from the cosmetics counter, so you’d best believe I was pissed about that. The other kid Brandine, the baby, is pretty cool, tho sometimes her coughin keep me up all night.
Oh shit, I forgot I got one more kid. He ain’t really mine, but I’ve been lookin after him since his daddy, my ex-boyfriend Ray, got sent up for a totally BULLSHIT possession with intent to distribute charge. The only reason the shit was in different bags was cause he wanted to keep the good stuff separated from the schwag. Anyways, Ray Jr. is ten years old, I think. I don see much of him anyways, cause he just kind of comes and goes as he pleases. Sometimes I worry about him but he always finds a way in even after I had the locks changed cause my Xanax kept on coming up short. Shit, last time I saw him he had a new pair of sneakers, an even I ain’t had no new sneakers in like three years now.
You shouldn’t worry about the kids tho, cause I usually give them some Tylenol PM at eight and their out by nine so mommy can get a little space to herself. So, anytime after like 8:30 is cool. I just got my paycheck from the Rite Aid so I’ve got a whole freezer full of Mike’s Hard Lemonade and Hamburger Helper, so there’s lots we can do if you just wanna come over an chill. But keep in mine that I’m not running some kind of welfare here, so if you wanna eat my Hamburger Helper an drink my booze you gotta chip in a little money or some dank weed or a few lines is all I’m askin. Plus, if you got any kids of your own don’t bring them over cause Kayla’s had an eye infection for like three weeks an I’m pretty sure that shit is contagious. Holla at ya soon!
* Location: D-Town
* it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
Date: 2010-01-05, 7:36AM MST
Wassup, homeboys? I don know about this internet stuff, since I thought only pussies use this shit, but my homegirl Erika told me to go here if was wantin for a man and I would find one quick – and Erika smart as hell, she’s the one who told me that if I’m under a certain income I can write off food and diapers on my tax return, so now wit all the money I’m savin on taxes I can afford to work less an party more.
So yeah, I want a man, but like not one that’s a total pussy. A dude like my ex Kurt. That fucker cheated on me left an right an one time he even tried to cook meth in my hallway closet but DAMN he was cut, like nine inches and long-lasting too.
I got two kids tho, so I don’t be needing no deadbeats like there daddies were. Kayla, she’s the seven year-old, always seems to get into everything. Last week I come home from a shift at the Rite-Aid an there’s flour an eggs and shit all over the floor. She’s just smiling an says “look I made you dinner, mommy!” Well you’d better believe I gave her a whoopin an made her clean that shit up. She even made this card for me wit me an her standin under a rainbow an used my good lipstick to color in the red. I had to wait a half hour after my shift was over for homegirl Yvonne to come in and watch out for the manager while I swiped that shit from the cosmetics counter, so you’d best believe I was pissed about that. The other kid Brandine, the baby, is pretty cool, tho sometimes her coughin keep me up all night.
Oh shit, I forgot I got one more kid. He ain’t really mine, but I’ve been lookin after him since his daddy, my ex-boyfriend Ray, got sent up for a totally BULLSHIT possession with intent to distribute charge. The only reason the shit was in different bags was cause he wanted to keep the good stuff separated from the schwag. Anyways, Ray Jr. is ten years old, I think. I don see much of him anyways, cause he just kind of comes and goes as he pleases. Sometimes I worry about him but he always finds a way in even after I had the locks changed cause my Xanax kept on coming up short. Shit, last time I saw him he had a new pair of sneakers, an even I ain’t had no new sneakers in like three years now.
You shouldn’t worry about the kids tho, cause I usually give them some Tylenol PM at eight and their out by nine so mommy can get a little space to herself. So, anytime after like 8:30 is cool. I just got my paycheck from the Rite Aid so I’ve got a whole freezer full of Mike’s Hard Lemonade and Hamburger Helper, so there’s lots we can do if you just wanna come over an chill. But keep in mine that I’m not running some kind of welfare here, so if you wanna eat my Hamburger Helper an drink my booze you gotta chip in a little money or some dank weed or a few lines is all I’m askin. Plus, if you got any kids of your own don’t bring them over cause Kayla’s had an eye infection for like three weeks an I’m pretty sure that shit is contagious. Holla at ya soon!
* Location: D-Town
* it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
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