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The Cave
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I Was, like, in a Cave
So, like, I was, like, in a cave? Like, doing, like, not this? Should I, like, write some more, like, blog stuff? Like, should I? It’s like, a big long story, like, but, like, this book explains it, like, pretty well. So, like, go read my story on, like, death caves and, like, do you guys want more Maxim?
In The Shower
Yeah, I’m mature.
-Maxim
P.S. This took me way too long to finish, sorry!
Okay, Okay, I’m Fat…Thanks Guys
I live in Japan. In Japan it is socially acceptable to tell you straight up if you have gotten fat. The conversation would go something like this:
“Hey, dude. Long time no see!”
“Yeah, for real! Hey, you got so fat!”
No precursor, no buildup, nothing. People will just tell you because it is a completely normal thing to say after they haven’t seen you for a while. So I’ve gotten used to it. I’m not really on the receiving end of it too much, but I occasionally get it from my girlfriend, who just loves to look at the rolls my stomach makes when I’m bend over, and then she rubs them.
Anyway!
I don’t think I have to tell you that this is NOT acceptable behavior in the U.S., or for that matter, most of the English speaking world. You don’t walk up to your friend who gained 5 pounds over the summer to tell them that you can see their love handles now. You don’t even go up to your super fat friend who used to be skinny and tell them they’ve gotten blimp sized and they should chill the fuck out with the food. Hell, People sue their doctors for telling them that they are fat and need to go on a diet or die from diabetes.
So when I went home for a couple of weeks for Christmas, being called a fat ass was the last thing I was expecting. Boy, was I wrong. I get home and one of the first things my mother says to me is, “Aww, you got a little belly don’t’cha!”. Oh, thanks mom. Something was amiss, usually they tell me how great I look. Whatever, I’ll take it, she is my mother after all. She gets some leeway since she loves me and just wants me to be healthy and all that junk. But then my sister says it. Fuck you. And then I meet up with a friend, he says it. Dude! Another friend, she says it. And then another, and another. THey all say it. What ever happened to not being a dick? You know, I was never too concerned with my weight, but going to a place with awesome social blocks placed against straight up calling people fat, and being bombarded with how big my belly got… you got to wonder… have I gotten fat? Am I a lard ball?
Ok, I do have to admit I have gone through a one month period where my body fat was bursting out from under my clothes (I want to delete those photos so bad), but its not THAT bad. It’s just a belly! Even my Japanese friends haven’t said anything… and they love calling people fat! What’s up people?!
Besides all rational thought, however, I have decided to cut down on my eating habits. So basically, fuck you guys. I’m fucking fat now, happy?!
Have a great day,
Maxim
The Death of a Newborn Shirt
The world is full of disgusting and awful things. Turn on the TV for a few seconds and you’ll see what I mean. I live in a relatively safe part of the world. I don’t have to deal with war, and murder. I don’t have to go out on the streets and sell blowjobs to buy crack, because I am so addicted to crack. Don’t gotta decide between killing a baby for a roll of bread. I was lucky to be raised in a middle class family. I don’t have to witness terrible things. I don’t have to decide between to impossibly evil things to survive. I was safe, right? Wrong. I did something terrible the other day… I destroyed something, something beautiful. It was a gift to the world really, a beacon of light just brought into the world. It had its whole life ahead of it. My girlfriend gave it to me as a christmas present. It was a beautiful white undershirt. It’s dead now, thanks to me… and all I could do is laugh hysterically as my girlfriend kicked me.
Lack of sleep can do amazing things to the body. I hadn’t really figured this out until recently, when I had come back from my parents house in the states to Japan. My lovely girlfriend picked me up at the airport and elected to keep me awake until a decent sleeping hour so I could get over jet lag a little easier. Oh, how nice of her! When we got to my place we exchanged Christmas gifts since I had been away for a while. She got me exactly what I wanted, two very white, beautiful, fresh undershirts to replace the two I had been wearing every day for six months without washing. She wanted me to take off that shirt, I also noticed the smell and was willing to part with it…our dating world was in alignment. I tried it on immediately for my fruitful and hopefully very long relationship with this white wonder. Fit perfectly, smelled great, all was right.
It was getting later in the evening, and it was getting time for dinner. Just before this my girlfriend had woke my desperate for sleep body up from an ill-advised nap that left me in a battle between the dream world and reality. Basically, I was a mess. My girlfriend, being the sweet Japanese spy that she is, sees how deliriously tired I am and says she will go out and pick up some food for us. Hurray! Not only did she do that, she also buys us ice cream! Double hurray!
I scarf down the delicious convenience store food and soon have my eyes on the ice cream bar she had bought me. Boy, did it look good. A hard chocolate center, covered in chocolate ice cream, covered by a hard candy shell. What more could you ask for? Triple chocolate explosion. I don’t remember anything about the actual eating of the chocolate bar. All I know is that I killed it. In a haze, much like a rabid raccoon, I absorbed the chocolate bar, not taking any care to my surroundings. I was blacked out for approximately one minute and thirty-seven seconds.
I came to. My girlfriend was standing over me in shock. She was looking at something. Not at my face…she was looking lower. Around my chest. I look down. This is what I see.
Yes, in a tired haze, while unconsciously enjoying delicious ice cream, I also managed to destroyed the beautiful new white undershirt that my girlfriend got me for Christmas. I looked at her, and the shirt, then back and her, and couldn’t stop laughing. Not a normal laugh, but the laugh of an insane sleep-deprived carny.
What a waste of life. That shirt can now never fulfill it’s purpose on this earth because of me. I basically killed a fetus. Don’t hate me. My girlfriend certainly does. At least it smells good.
Here’s to a better future for the world, where these things no longer happen.
-Maxim
We Are Porn People
Most people eventually garner some sort of interest in their parents past、although they aren’t always willing to reveal it willingly. Hell, some people literally have to point a gun to their folk’s heads just to get anything out of them. My dad just happens to be one of those people. It took a good 24 years, but I finally thought I had a general idea of what my dad accomplished in his life. I was satisfied. I didn’t think I had to fish anymore. Little did I know that when I came home for Christmas, I would find out a family secret hidden from us children. Let me be the first to say, it was probably for the better.
If you have read this blog in the past, you may know that I’ve had some interesting sexual experiences in my life. Some completely volunteered, some forced down upon me. Well, it appears that this isn’t just something that I’ve been lucky (unlucky?) enough to experience…this shit runs in the family. We are porn people. A simple bunch, really…but inextricably locked to the world of porn. Why? Listen to this.
So I was wondering aimlessly around my house, mindin’ my own business when I found myself in my parent’s room. My dad, as usual, was relaxing in his chair, simultaneously writing furiously, and switching between watching the oldest movies in existence, and a local horse racing channel. On my parents dresser, I noticed a book. Not a particularly strange sight, as we have a thousand books in places all over the house, but I picked it up and looked at it absent-mindedly anyway.
The book was called ‘Isle of Lust’ by Levi Sanford. On the cover was a woman facing away, hugging a man, and wearing a dress that gave us a very detailed look at her rear end. The tagline was: “With sultry sirens in the sun, every day is SIN-day”. This book was old too, the pages had turned that ting of orange like all books over 30 years old did. The price was proudly displayed right next to the title, 60 cents. “What is this shit?” I wondered, knowing that this wasn’t exactly the kind of books my parents read. “Hey, Dad? What is this smut book doing on your dresser?” I asked. “Oh, yeah…I wrote that.” He responded, quite nonchalantly. “You wrote it? But who’s Levi Sanford?” I asked. “Yeah, that’s my pen name; I had a lot of back then. Wrote a bunch of soft-core smut novels.” An intense feeling of joy filled up my heart. All I could think after that was, “I am so reading this”.
After some pushing, I find out that my dad, looking for work writing after college, did freelance for this smut publishing firm. He could write anything he wanted with one condition, there had to have a sex scene every ten pages. Only ten!? Don’t worry, my dad assured me there was no penetration.
So how did my dad do? Here’s one of the many gems from Isle of Lust by Levi Sanford:
A cold shiver of dread and excitement swept over him and he found her lips. They were soft and wet and half-parted allowing his darting tongue to enter. Their teeth clicked as the soft crushing kiss turned into a thousand tiny bites till her could taste the sweetness of blood. Her body writhed in sensuous rhythm as she guided his hand to secret, sensitive spots, urging him to probe and dig, uttering short commands.
He could see her lips moving as though she were praying, but it wasn’t prayers that he heard. She was mouthing all sorts of foul obscenities as his hands and his body twisted and pressed her soft flesh.
I don’t know about you, but I already have a boner.
Oh, so you think Isle of Lust looks great? Check out some of these other titles by none other than my old man.
The Moonlighters by Gil Herbert: The shocking story of a small factory town that gave birth to a call-girl ring made up of the wives of the night-shift workers!!!
Ginny by Gil Herbert: An office girl with intentions…intentions less than honorable!
The Sin Travelers by Don Holliday: They wanted kicks… and they didn’t care how they got them!
If you want to get your hands on some of these vintage classics, head over to this great website, vintagesleaze.com, for all of your vintage sleaze needs! Yes, this is a real site, and yes, there are people who collect and sell this shit to people who think today’s smut isn’t enough… they need the granny smut.
So yes, it’s no wonder that my life has been lined with all the naughty and gross things in the world. It is in my DNA. We are porn people and I won’t deny it any longer! Why don’t you try asking your parents about their past? You may find out you’re a porn person too!
Have a great one!
Sincerely,
-Maxim
I’m Back! Let’s Just Say This Happened…
Don’t ask.
More updates this week!
-Maxim
I Have Come Up With the Best Personality Quiz EvAr
Okay, you guys all have experienced something like this. You open up Facebook, or your email, or whatever you use to communicate with people, and see that all of your friends have sent you something like this…
What the fuck? Happy face? Oh no, wait… It’s a trap! Personality quiz?? Crap, you read the instructions! Now you to take it because it says If you don’t send it to 50 other people you’re going to get your junk chopped off! So you spend 10 minutes looking for a god damn word and then when you finally find one, it’s something like, “peaceful”. Then you think “Peaceful!? What the hell? I’m not peaceful! I was just about to throw my computer right in the face of my girlffriend in frustration cause I couldn’t find frickin’ a word for ten minutes!”. Then you think, “This quiz is complete bullshit, we need something better!” And that’s where I come in, your faithful genius here at Maxim’s Madness.
I was tired of seeing all my friends either getting their junk chopped off, or getting answers that were complete bologna all the time. So I decided I was going to devote all my time from now on into developing the best darned personality quiz of all time. And after years of painstaking research, I finally did it.
Behold the awesomeness.
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THE FRICKIN’ BEST PERSONALITY QUIZ EVAR!!! Omg!
😉
Note: You’ll probably need a pen and paper, unless you are some kind of genius.
1. Write down the first four things your eyes are drawn to in this picture.
2.For the first and third thing on your list, note the first letter. For the second and fourth thing, note the third letter.
3. Find the most awesome book in your house.
4. Add up the number of letters in the words of the four things you found. Whatever the sum is, go to that page in your awesome book.
5. Keeping in mind the letters taken from step two, start reading the page. When you find an word that starts with one of your letters, write it down. Anything goes, even pronouns and particles! You should have four by the end.
6. Try to make a sentence with your words, if you can’t, your journey has ended. You are bound for a miserable life full of upset and betrayal. Now get out off my site. If you were able to make a sentence, good for you! Move on to the next step.
7. Think about your sentence for a bit. Work it out in your head. Like most clues from the great beyond, the meaning won’t hit you all at once. Think about it for a few days. Let it seep deep into your mind. It give you the most profound insight on your soul you’ve ever had.
8. SEND THIS TO TEN PEOPLE OR I WILL PERSONALLY EAT YOUR GENITALS! ❤
Here's what I got…
My four things: deer, jacket, divider, bed.
The letters: D, D, D, and C.
My book: A Feast for Crows by George R.R. Martin (It was the closest one to me at the time, but its still awesome!)
The page: 20
The words: dragon, do, coin, did.
The sentence: Did Coin do Dragon?
How erotic… I wonder who Coin and Dragon are. I feel like this is a sentence midway between some heavy gossip by two teenaged girls. But I don't even know who these two people are… I guess I'm…eavesdropping! Yes…I'm eavesdropping on two people! And who eavesdrops? Oh, shit! I'm a frickin spy! The quiz is telling me I should be a spy! Just like I’ve always wanted wanted. I’m so happy.
What did I say? 100% accurate, and scientifically provable.
Try it out! Tell me what you guys got!
Two Things That Have Me Worried About the World
Do any of you read the news? Do the people writing the news even read what they are writing, because any sane person would of noticed something a little strange going on recently. I’m going to break the news to you right on this blog, because I believe I have a responsibility to the citizens of the world… and I don’t want to die.
I do read the news, often, and things like this don’t escape these keen eyes, no they don’t. I read two things in the news this past week. Yeah, sure, they were seemingly unrelated…one about a naturally occurring phenomenon and one about a breakthrough in scientific research. Sounds fun, right? Wrong. Although I had read them about a week apart from each other, as soon as I finished reading the second article, something clicked in my head. I read the article again, not knowing what this feeling could be. Suddenly my mind flashed back to an article I had read a week before. I read that one again, too. A feeling of dread swarmed over me, “I can’t believe we’ve actually come to this?” As the realization seeped through my brain as I read more and more, I suddenly blurted, “This is some 007 shit right here”. I couldn’t be more right.
So what the hell happened? First off is the development of a real life tractor beam. Yes, just like in Star Trek. You know, that beam that the Enterprise used whenever they wanted to stop a push around that asshole romulan, or grab some random space junk and put it into their cargo bay. Yeah, that. Think giant space net. Something that can pull shit using laser beams. And NASA is actually developing something like that. Yeah, I know most of you are thinking to yourselves, “Holy bajeezus! That is totally awesome sauce!”. Yeah, maybe. Listen to this next bit before you make any judgments.
You’ve probably heard about this one. A giant aircraft carrier sized meteor made a close flyby of earth last week. It’s come so close, it passed between the earth and the moon. No it didn’t hit, and had there was no possibility of it hitting, but shit man, It came between the earth and the moon! That’s pretty damn close. Like way too close!
So we had, A, the development of a real life tractor beam, and, B, a giant meteor making a close flyby of earth. I don’t think it takes a genius to realize why that made me worry. Who hasn’t seen a James Bond flick? Octopussy, or Goldfinger, or some other evil genius steals the blueprints of a giant tractor beam from NASA in a volcano, and threatens to use it on the passing meteor unless the world gives him billions of dollars! Doesn’t anyone else see this happening??? There is another flyby of a large meteor happening soon! There’s one in 2013, and in 2029! And that’s just the ones we know about. W Octopussy could of put millions of dollars into some crazy asteroid detecting radar. He could catch us off guard real quick. We need to up our defenses on this, guys. We need James Bond (or Austin Powers, he seems to get the job done too).
Re-Virginize Your Hands
I’m going to try and make this next blog post sound the least like an advertisement as I can, but it’s going to be incredibly hard. I have found something incredible. It makes me feel young, as young as a baby fresh out of the womb. It makes me want to touch myself. Not just touch, stroke, caress. It gives me pleasure. It make me happy. No, it’s not masturbation. Though equally amazing, I found out about that years ago. No, I am talking about Sabon hand scrub.
On my last trip to America, I had was drinking some beers and smoking from a pipe, when a mystical Greek woman told me about a soap company from Israel. People would come from all over the world would come to New York and seek out this place. She explained that in every store, they had a magical fountain activated by stepping on a weight activated plate, kind of like that temple in Indiana Jones. You would then try out different scrubs creams from far off and wondrous lands, giving you the power of amazing skin for all time. Well, needless to say, I was intrigued. I went out as soon as possible in search of this mystic store. I found it, just where the Greek said it would be. I went in. There was a magical fountain, again just like she said. The woman in the store asked me if I would like to try it out. “Oh, yes”, I replied. When I put my hands into the fountain, my life changed forever.
Why?
Well, do you want your skin to feel like a babies butt? How about your entire body? I can’t think of anyone who would say no to that question. Well, that’s what this cream/salt weird concoction does to your skin. You scoop up a big pink blob with a nice wooden spoon, rub your hands with it for a minute, and just like that your hands feel like they’ve been re-inserted into a woman’s uterus, cooked for 9 months and birthed out again anew. It is incredible.
I urge you guys to re-virginize your dirty hands and go out to buy/steal this stuff immediately. It really does make masturbating so much nicer.
-Maxim
Maxim's Madness 