I'm still not using this account anymore... but I'm still around.
I have migrated to a new account a while ago, so find me here: https://www.furaffinity.net/user/omolaud
My website is still valid at https://omo.works

I've setup a mailing list to mail out stories to those who wish them. We'll see how it works!

If you wish to subscribe, email me at omolaud[at]gmail.com

The mailing list is $5/month USD and I'll accept payment through: paypal, bitcoin, litecoin, cash in hand, furaffinity Shinies, patreon subs, and even Secondlife Linden.

If you have some other method of payment you want to use, we might be able to work something out ^-^

In any case, I'll send out stories to the mailing list, and announce them here! Then also a digest every month in case someone subbed after the story was sent.

https://subscribestar.adult/omolaud

https://omo.works

Not sure who, or why, but someone's been harassing me for a few months. Especially so after I started my patreon. Latest move was to report my Patreon page.

Today, I had to limit my patreon activity, remove all stories that contained the "rape" keyword. Why? Because patreon doesn't actually have any community guidelines they instead have some fancy prose that means nothing.

From the guidelines:

...

However, we have zero tolerance when it comes to the glorification of sexual violence which includes bestiality, rape, and child exploitation (i.e., sexualized depiction of minors). This is true for illustrated, animated, or any other type of creations. Patreon reserves the right to review and remove accounts that may violate this guideline.

We also do not allow other fringe sexual fetish creations, such as incest, necrophilia, or fetish creations that is hard to distinguish from non-consensual sex.

We understand that some topics on this list such as incest or rape are a little bit more complicated because these situations are, unfortunately, part of real life. As a result, when reviewing these types of creations, the Trust and Safety team will take into consideration context including personal, historical or educational narrative. For example, survivor stories or fiction such as Game of Thrones or Lolita are allowed on Patreon.

...

As you can see, pretty cut and dried, right? And yes, some of my content would run foul of this, and I acknowledge this. I suspect my Valentines Day story certainly did. However, most of my writing does not condone, or "glorify" rape. It's usually the horrific reprocussions that I fixate on.

The reply I got from the moderator contained this nugget:

...

To answer your questions, at Patreon we define the glorification of sexual violence, not as an exhortation of it, but as something that is featured prominently in the content to the point of being one of its main focuses.

...

They literally redefine the word "glorify" to fit their discomfort with my writing. I didn't break their rules, they moved the bar on me. That definition does not exist within their guidelines, this is wholly from the moderator himself I suspect, or that moderator's superior. I replied with a long email explaining how they need to then write clearly what their guidelines actually mean, or end up with a meaningless waste of words.

Mean what you say, and say what you mean.

I'll come up with a new solution soon here, not sure what it will be, but I won't be kept down by harassment, or by petty moderators who can't stomach the real world.

So, saw the doctor today. He removed the cast on my nose, and jerked out the splints inside. Let me tell you, it was like someone ripping a fishhook out on the left side. Right was uncomfortable, but left... nostril ripped >.< not too bad, but bad enough!

Anyway, got those out, and can breathe normal-ish now. Can even swallow a bit better, think it was holding my soft palate open.

They did remove my uvula when they cut apart my soft palate and stitched it higher. I had a bifurcated uvula, made a little fork in the back of my throat. Gone now. It would have hung so low, as to be laying on the back of my tongue, perhaps even epiglottis! That would have been a nightmare, swallowing my own uvula all the time, tickling the back of my throat @.@ but it's still weird that it's gone...

I'm doing well, weaning myself off the narcotics, using them only when it's too terrible. Mostly taking liquid Acetaminophen. Managed to sleep through the night last night, from 10pm until 6am, only getting up to get a drink and take a leak, cause my mouth was dry as a desert.

I can eat and drink fairly well, day after tomorrow I should be back on solid foods. But I got plenty of random mushy things to eat in the mean time! Crab Salad, Egg Salad, pudding cups, instant soups, cans of soup. I even made some gelatin out of almond milk that turned out alright. But... when I can... I'm going for pizza, not just any pizza, but some well made chicago deep dish @.@ with the cheese on the bottom, a buttery crunchy crust, lots of sausage and maybe herbs... oh man do I crave pizza.

Well, anyway, Like I said I'm doing fine ;p

Schedule looks something like this:
* Today I got the splints and cast removed, 6 days after surgery.
* 1-2 more weeks of abject misery for throat.
* 1-3 months of swelling in nose that will slowly reduce and improve breathing.
* Up to 6 months before throat is fully recovered.
* If I still have trouble swallowing by the end of 6 months, I may need to see a specialist O.o a swallowing therapist. Who knew?

Just got home from the hospital, had a surgery yesterday morning to remove tonsils, raise uvular muscle a half inch, and open my nose by inserting a piece of ear cartilage inside to work like a permanent breatheright strip.

I am abjectly miserable now @.@

Sunday morning update!

Managed to go the night without narcotics (well, most the night, took them last around 10pm, and woke up around 4:30 am but since they wear off after about 3 hours—that's not bad!) So this morning I took only the liquid tylenol, and I'm feeling alright :D

Cast comes off tomorrow. Then another week or so of healing. Damn nose itches under it! >:|

So some friends and I are forming up a server dedicated to writing, reading, and general kink :3
Please join us if that is your thing!


https://discord.gg/x9V8BqT

The echo-chamber. It’s a buzzword really, echo-chamber, a phrase without much meaning for most people. Of course people want their opinions validated, of course they want to have their closely held beliefs venerated publicly. Humans are social animals who build societies linked by social-contracts, spoken and unspoken. Humans care about one another, especially when reciprocated.

As I grew, I learned from the mistakes I made. I corrected my notions, behaviors, and ideals. A child touches a hot stove; they get burned, it hurts—they learn very quickly not to repeat this mistake. So long as the wound received does not overcome their ability to learn or heal; the lesson was a net positive. “That which does not kill us, makes us stronger” so the phrase goes. It should be amended to—that which we can learn from, makes us stronger. We cannot learn if we are dead, that is obvious. If however, I failed to learn from my mistakes, the pain I endured was wasted and the agony unjustified. When I resort to fantasy, when I delude myself with escapism or fail to face my fears; I have wasted a fragment of my life.

I am no stranger to suffering, there is much I have yet to recover and learn from. I have many regrets, many small deaths of self that I will never get back. My future, truncated, cropped into a small box from which I cannot easily escape. But—I have learned, and grown, and improved. I am not perfect nor always kind and careful. I possess no great secret, nor am I gifted with incredible insight. I do however believe that I have some inkling of how to get through life with a modicum of happiness. At least, I’d say it is to find an accurate self-image, and be content with it. The opinions of others should not unduly influence the opinion of yourself, nor should the self opinion be too far from reality.

The echo-chamber… I clung to it once, reveled in the reflection of my delusions. My imagination is intense, powerful, and overwhelming; it is addictive, and not just for me. Others have fallen in love with poetic musings I’ve breathed life into; mental demons that come and go from my mind, like sparrows from a barn. This way lies misery.

The biggest danger of that reflection is loss of perspective. Society is a reality check, or should be. We live in a world with so many different “truths” and a few hard undeniable “facts”, or at least, they appear that way at first glance. I’m sure there are facts out there, mathematical laws that governs reality, but those rules are best explained by J.B.S. Haldane, “Now my own suspicion is that the Universe is not only queerer than we suppose, but queerer than we can suppose.”

So, our collective societies create their own truths, their own facts to live by. We create a sort of reality touchstone in which to test each member of society against. When we touch our communal touchstone, it gives us a sense of perspective, a perspective closer to the society as a whole.

So what does this touchstone look like? It is the laws we enact to govern the behaviors of others. It is the bully that doesn’t like what you say or think. It is the talking head on TV you disagree with. It is the news of something you once barely cared about, but are suddenly interested in. The touchstone isn’t truth, it’s a difference of opinion. Not because that opinion is right, or wrong, but because it is different.

In the echo-chamber, we are isolated from that which might disturb our self-image. We can grow into that self-image, enhance it, sculpt it to a perfect beautiful masterpiece of self delusion. Some of us create god in our image, and name ourselves their chosen one. Others place themselves at the center of the human story, the main character in a world of their own devising. A select few decide they must be the antagonist instead, the scourge upon which others will learn the “truth”.

We each have our own little world bubble, the internal reference to how the world works, who matters, who doesn’t. We each see the world outside as subtly different, subtly altered by our own perceptions. No one truly sees it as it is, not even the cutting edge scientists unlocking the secrets of physics; no, they only map the input to the best approximation their mind can comprehend. This isn’t a failing of mind either, but a failing of the human senses. No one can see with their own eyes the cloud of energy that makes up each atom of each molecule of each cell of our being. No, we only see a tiny slice of the waveform reflected to incidentally sensitive nerve endings.

We have to use our imagination, a cunning and beautiful tool, to try and find an inkling of reality beyond our dull senses. We ask ourselves “Is the blue I see, the same as the blue you see? Or is my blue, your red, my yellow, your green?” Well—we might ask ourselves that question, if we were exposed for a moment to anything outside of our echo-chamber. The Physics of Light is so mundane to the uninformed, but sublime to those who look a little closer.

Self reflection cannot occur without conflict. I do not know if this is controversial, or common knowledge, but I believe it entirely. Our opinions must be challenged, or we will never question them, never evaluate and improve. If my world view never comes into question, then I will never question it, even if I believe I am the chosen one, if I believe that others must die to prove how right I am.

The echo-chamber is the origin of overreaction, of extremism, of violence. A child grown to Adult in the absence of illumination, never learns to see. A child grown to Adult, never taught to reason or question or consider anything beyond what was fed to them as an infant—will lack the tools necessary to cope with life beyond the creche. We create a society of extremes, and a society of fragility. We sculpt self-images that cannot hold up to even a cursory glance, while never learning the tools to cope with that same result.

Who you are, is not who you think you are, nor what others think you are. Too many people believe either of two extremes. One, that we are the driver in the vehicle of our minds and bodies, that we have full control over our actions and thoughts. The other, that we have no control, that it is god’s will, or the raw instinct, or hormones, or genes; that we are observers within the impenetrable complexity of our biological or theological existence. Where the line is drawn, I cannot say, perhaps a neurologist some day will have an answer, but I do know that I am both driver, and observer. I may not have absolute control over my thoughts and feelings, but I can control how I react to them, and how I act in response to them. I also know, this behavior is learned, not intrinsic to the human mind.

I challenge you to master the beast within, and I challenge you, to give voice to the inner realm. Do not deny who you are, but do not allow who you are to control what you do. Do not succumb to the delicious rapture that is the echo-chamber. The tempting inner delusions, and the pretty paths welcoming us into the delusions of others, are traps. And those who lay the traps for us, including our own inner selves, will not thank you for questioning their delusions. You will be rejected, hated, scorned for daring to challenge them. Their hatred and fear is not your responsibility.

Do not avoid the pain of life, it is more valuable than you know. It is said, that you should “Accept misfortune as the human condition,” for “misfortune comes from having a body. Without a body, how could there be misfortune?” I believe these words, as simplistic and trite as they sound, to be one of the most abject truths I have ever met. Misfortune, sorrow, and pain, are the result of a life well lived. Without the pain, we cannot know pleasure; without sorrow, we cannot know joy; without misfortune, we cannot appreciate fortune. So long as it does not kill us, so long as we learn from it, so long as we continue to grow—we will find happiness.

So, I was working on my bio-specifications for my dragon characters (Kuthalti, and Itlahtuk) and I realized, I didn't have a way to calculate how long their orgasm would last... Kuthalti's would be 170 seconds, through which he would unload 6131 liters of semen over 26 individual ejaculations.

Itlahtuk, being far less demonic and far smaller would last for 32 seconds, through which he would unload 5.4 liters over 6 individual ejaculations. :p
If you wanna play with the code... here.

https://pastebin.com/uVTjZruN

The actual results for Itlahtuk, as an example;

Ejaculated: 2743.600000ml over: 7.183227 seconds
Ejaculated: 1371.800000ml over: 5.841614 seconds
Ejaculated: 685.900000ml over: 5.170807 seconds
Ejaculated: 342.950000ml over: 4.835403 seconds
Ejaculated: 171.475000ml over: 4.667702 seconds
Ejaculated: 85.737500ml over: 4.583851 seconds
Count: 6
Total Ejaculated: 5401.462500ml, Remaining: 1457.537500ml
Total Time: 32.282604 seconds

So, bunch of friends talked me into it. I'm starting a patreon at https://www.patreon.com/omo

I'll be posting unpublished stories, erotic and non-erotic stories... as well as blend/fbx files of my 3d art (including stuff I sell on secondlife) with a permissive license!

Had a dream with an interesting, double passaged cloaca, one for feces and one for urine that met together within... I applied them to my herm character Itlahtuk (Kuthalti's hermaphroditic child.) Here is the result of my imagination!

-

Itlahtak's cloaca; A Y shaped hollow stretching along tailbone at one end and up stomach at other, then exiting at a horizontal seam between tail and stomach over pelvis. Each segment of the Y is chambered in it's own passage through the pelvis.

The upper (abdominal) passage connects immediately to the outlet of the intestine with a short, muscular junction that separates it from the ovarian pouch. Connected to the ovarian pouch are six gonadal structures, two on either side, and two above and to the rear of the pouch, these produce a constant flow of new eggs that build up in the ovarian pouch over the course of a year. The upper passage is far wider, able to contain much more, and capable of laying with strong extrusion muscles. There are also a large number of mucosal and scent glands lining all three sides of the passage.

The lower (anterior) passage connects to the kidneys via a number of ducts. These ducts connect to a singular urethra near the cloacal entrance, then the urethra follows the underside of the passage all the way to the end, some distance inside. The kidneys release a continuous flow of urine waste, which leak into the passage, or if everted, out of the phallus. Along all three sides of the passage are a large number of scent glands, and near the deepest point, a dozen generous mucous glands. Like the kidneys, six gonads, two on either side, and two fore, connect near the cloaca to the urethra just beyond the kidney's exit junction.

The seminal connection point is a large muscular bladder like structure that separates the seminal ducts from the urethra. The gonads produce a continuous discharge of sperm, each roughly two milimeters in length; individually visible to the naked eye. Within the seminal bladder are a number of highly productive mucous glands, capable of recharging the chamber in a matter of minutes. The continuous recharging however, requires that the owner discharge the contents at least once a week or suffer from cramps similar to an overflowing bladder, and a constant leakage of reproductive fluids.

The interior lining of the cloaca and both passages is tough, rubbery, and slippery with mucous. It is a wrinkled and flexible tissue, capable of tripling it's surface area. At the entrance, there is only a small pouch like chamber just behind the tightly sealed and muscular vent. This is what emerges first, a wrinkled, shiny sheath of tissue that makes easy eversion for either of the other two passages.

There are three forms of arousal the cloaca can take. The primary, and most common would be the masculine everting. This one is where anterior passage swells, and three columnar muscles forming a pyrmidial structure become highly active.

The anterior passage emerges not as a single rigid shaft slipping free, but as a soft, pliable pouch, almost like a long balloon inflating. As it grows, the entire passage emerges and inverts inside out, evacuating the contents it held, and growing rigid. The muscular structure within gives the relatively narrow shaft full prehensile ability. It has no exact head, though the full eversion will allow the deepest aft end to emerge and produce a sort of swollen lip like structure with a number of mucous glands that constantly leak and lubricate. Coitus is a generally standard and familiar process, where the masculine phallus is inserted and stimulated by violent and deep thrusts. Though achieving orgasm is however a slow buildup that may or may not happen in a mating session... the seminal bladder is capable of discharge at will; no orgasm necessary.

The second form of arousal is the oviparous evacuation. Since egg production never ceases, and there are no specific seasons, when the ovarian pouch reaches a certain critical fullness, and a number of fully mature eggs are ready, the cloaca everts on it's own and muscular contractions begin to expell the mature eggs one by one. There is little to no control over this process once it has begun, however it can be willfully triggered... though if there are no mature eggs, it would be to no effect other than a messy erection.

The forward passage emerges similar to the anterior, however this passage is far larger, and usually contains a larger quantity of waste that must be expelled and washed away before laying can begin. The eversion process for the forward oviparous passage takes far longer than the smaller anterior spire. Over the course of an hour, it will swell and slip free. The large number of mucous glands will continuously moisten and lubricate it even in the open air, and create an intense pheromone rich mess below. After the midpoint, contractions begin involuntarily, and mature eggs one by one are disgorged into the passage and vomited up it's length and out into the world... or into an awaiting "nest" of some sort.

Fertilization normally takes place within the ovarian pouch. Once the eggs have been laid however, they can still be fertilized for up to a week. After a week the shell has hardened too much for sperm to penetrate. Then depending on the maturity of the egg, and when fertilization took place, it can be anywhere from twelve weeks to a year before the egg hatches. Development period is a minimum of eighteen weeks though, even with fully mature eggs. If the eggs are not laid in time, they may hatch internally, within the ovarian pouch, or within the aforementioned nest.

The fluids produced by the mucous glands is a dark blue, nearly black oily substance, as slick as artificial lubricant, and cloying. It takes hours to wear off without an appropriate soap like solvent. The visible sperm are black in color, shaped more like leaches than tadpoles, but without a mouth; flat and tapered. The sperm can survive for up to three months in a hostile but wet environment, but only a few days drying in the open air.

Random idea came up with while talking to some folks. Figured I would share it.
The "Bloat Gnats" are just black chitin carapace protected aliens, about 5mm long and 2 across.
__________

Bloat Gnat Infection stages:

Stage 1: Invasion
Upon locating a host, a bloat gnat will find soft tissue and burrow inside and begin producing pheromones in high quantities to attract others. These will mix with the leaking blood to coat the surface of the wound with a compound to prevent coagulation.
Bleeding itself will be halted eventually, but not by the body's own action, but by the parasite's laminating of the burrow wall in a flexible, rubbery substance designed to keep the passage open.
More Gnats will come, swarming over the victim, attracted by either their flesh itself, or the pheromone. As many as ten thousand burrows may be 'dug' in their body through soft tissue before the host is considered fully saturated.

Stage 2: Excavation
over the next few hours after a parasite enters a host, the flesh will be consumed and converted into biological lamination. Hollows will form in muscle and fat, held open by the lamination, producing firm, yet flexible 'galls' under the hide.
As the lamination cures, it will expand outward, thinning. More lamination over top, will produce more expansion, until the body is covered in raised veins and lumps over galls.
The galls will fill with air at first, then eventually a sweet smelling purplish sap excreted by the Gnat. It is highly neurotoxic to most other creatures, and rupturing a gall may cause nervous damage in a localized area before it is repaired and relaminated.

Stage 3: Fertilization
At this stage, the body is beginning to swell with numerous hollows, every inch burning with agony and crawling with invasive life. The host may have tried to scratch through the galls, and left themselves paralyzed locally, leaving limbs dead to sensation. If they have resisted the urge, they may still be motile.
A second perhomone is produced by each Gnat in it's own gall, calling to others. A Breeding frenzy will follow, swarming their body with Gnats that crawl in, mate in a gall, then depart.
Over the next day, millions of Bloat Gnat eggs will be laid, filling each gall, coating the laminated walls. The eggs will burrow a tendril through the wall into flesh, and draw in nutrients from the host. This causes the gall to expand further, particularly large ones may reach the size of flattened softballs, but more often they are about marble scale.

Stage 4: Hatching
Two days later, the nymph Gnats will hatch and proceed to feed within their protective Gall. This will last another few hours until they grow from a larval state to fully formed without a pupae middle state. Then they will depart to seek out another host. The process of hatching is highly traumatic, galls squirming with writhing life and draining the body of nutrients, leaving them half starved and desperate. The departure itself does no damage, but can feel like they are rupturing head to toe, as the tunnels are flooded with crawling Gnat bodies, trying to escape.

Stage 5: Repeat
Over and over the fertilization and hatching cycle will continue until the host dies, and even after. If the eggs are no longer able to gain nutrients from the body. Further galls may be produced at new locations with fresher flesh, moving inward toward the core of the body and the inner organs.
The body at this point will swell and grow to perhaps double it's original size as the new galls are developed.

It's been a while, quite a long while. If anyone needs 3d art, or possibly a writing commission, I'm in need of financial gain! Note me, or drop a comment here if you are interested.

Dictionary.com
They decided to put up a full page advertisement for their “app” in front of their primary page. You go to dictionary.reference.com, suddenly you are greeted by it.
This alone is enough to piss me off, as many of you know, I hate advertisement with a passion, I think it is the bane of modern life, something that should be annihilated and ignored at every turn.
Worse however. I click the link to go past this advert, to go to the actual website and… it takes me back to the advert. Every single link except for the “acquire app” link, takes me back to the advert. This is utter bullshit, garbage, base stupidity of the highest order. I’m sure they will fix it eventually, but they essentially broke their own website, blocking anyone from using it.

So, I'm running a pathfinder game online for a few friends.
So far I've made a few interesting resources, if you wanna read them ^.~
Introduction to the world: http://nesetalis.evil-spork.net/rp/Carbuncle.html
New monsters they are facing: http://nesetalis.evil-spork.net/rp/.....dowHorror.html

I was re-uploading my half-breed story as I had updated it with minor changes.
Well.. the file is now impossible to download and there is no story displayed. DA FUCK?!

Though to be honest they probably didn't hire a plumber, just nephew jimbob who knows how to spray solder on pipe.
Seriously, the bathroom sink drain pipes leak in to the basement on to the dryer.
The kitchen sink drain doesn't.
And just now, when a shower was being taken, the faucet shot off. When pushed on, the PIPE ITSELF fell off.
HOW DO YOU FAIL THIS HARD?!

Twas the night before raepmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
A tripline was strung over the door with care,
In the hopes that no one would take father unaware.

Our children huddled fearful under blankets in bed,
While visions of past rapes danced in their heads.
And mamma in her cage, and I chained to the bed,
Had just been imprisoned for a long vicious attack.

When down the hall stumbled father, in a rage,
Drunk and aroused, ready to give me another child at such a young age.
When I looked up to the door and saw his red face,
I knew he would soon, put me in my place.

Upon my bed he climbed, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment I would be impaled upon his dick.
More rapid and eager than I had seen him before,
And though I resisted, and shouted, he called just me "filthy whore."

Now atop me, now within me, he pounced and thrust,
In to depths, many times he, before had put his lust.
To my breast went his lips as he put me in his thrall,
I panted and lifted to meet his every beck and call.

As dry as I had been upon his first vicious claim,
When our hips met again, I gushed and cried his name.
So up to the hilt as his balls slapped and clapped,
Swollen full of seed, ready to sire child number two.

And then in my cunt I felt a twitch,
Then I clamped down and told him, "I'm your bitch!"
As my head fell back, the world spinning around,
Down my tight tunnel, my womb did he drown.

He was hot, he was sticky, I could even smell his lust,
Chest to chest, belly to belly, he panted through his rut.
A bundle of joy would soon be born,
And he was a pedo, and this would just add to his porn.

His eyes saw me truly, as I laid there and panted,
A bitch, a whore, I had given him my cherry.
Drooling and moaning, with mouth agape,
In to it he pissed, bitter filth remnants of his rape.

The sticky stump of his penis, closed towards my lips,
As still he emptied and humiliated his bitch.
I drank and I choked and broad my belly grew,
In my belly I knew, tonight's Raepmas child grew.

His flow slacked as he grinned, back to his jolly old self,
But I just sobbed when I saw him flaccid, in desperate need myself.
A wink of his eye and he stepped off my bed,
In search of my sister who thought of her first time with dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to her door,
And in to her room he came, to turn her in to his beautiful whore.
And laying there, listening, I writhed in desperation,
To sister's sobbing cries at his violent penetration.

When he was done he went back to his room,
A soft squeak, a clank, and I knew mother's doom.
Last I heard of her, was a quiet scream,
"Please Sir no, please don't rape me again!"

Only one thing is going on my christmas list from now until the next century... OMG -squirms-
https://youtu.be/yfXiNyHYdFE

http://www.primalhardwere.com/category/new

The nature of humanity is change. We adapt to our surroundings, to our own cultures and social pressures. Thousands of years ago we moved from a primarily hunter-gatherer people to agrarian societies. We developed towns, cities, markets and the concept of land ownership. Where once a tribe had to go where the food was, we made our own food, we put down roots.

The concept of roots wasn't new of course, roots in a tribal society were important but they were different from family roots. The tribe fractured, it became smaller and more manageable. For many societies there was a head of house, usually a man, there were generations under one roof caring for one another. You might have grown up on a farm knowing that; as an adult it would fall to you to keep it going. Then in old age it would fall to you to care for the next generation of your lineage.

Who took over next began to matter, this land was in your name, this land belonged to your unbroken linage. The concept of a bastard, or marriage became very important to some societies. Who would head the next generation and who would be considered expendable. Wars were fought over land owned by the very rich. Solders died for their liege lord to protect that family's line.

For many centuries this form of society, this emphasis upon lineage continued unbroken until the modern era. During the industrial revolution mechanization changed everything. Food became plentiful, cheap goods became the norm. Society blossomed with millions upon millions of un-landed citizens. People still tried to put down roots, they had small families, they owned poorly built shelters on small plots of land. Instead of farming, instead of surviving via the products of their own land they began to work elsewhere, in factories, in merchants, in support mechanisms for the modern city.

This was the beginning of a great change. Once you owned land because it was useful to you, it was something you could exploit, something you could draw resources from. Even a baker or black smith used their land to express their personal trade. The miller down the stream used the water on their property to turn their millstone. The land baron used the land they subletted as a source of income while meting out justice and order.

Today we are again becoming a nomadic society. A society of hunter-gatherers. Most of us will never even own a home let alone draw our living directly from the land. Agriculture that started us down this path became corporate, conglomerate. Where once a family worked just the land they owned and brought their supplies to market, now thousands of individual families work jobs to bring the product of some one else to market.

Today when a factory closes, we move on to another job. When a new business opens up and hires you on, you may travel 10,000 kilometers to begin work in a new place. The family roots we put down may come with, but more often than not we leave them behind, the previous generation abandoned only to be seen again during the holidays.

This may sound like a sad state of affairs, and for some it is. However it is simply change, a new type of society is emerging. Children are more often than not raised by a single parent now. Lineage is becoming a thing thought of romantically, something from the brave past. We no longer fight for the king or queen, we fight for our cellular society, our way of life and the family we have at home.

Communities have changed as well; where once it was the town you are in, an important place where the opinions of your neighbors mattered greatly. Now they are strangers and your true friends may be a thousand miles away. Eccentric lifestyles are more common and more acceptable because of this. Your neighbor may be very strange, but your livelihood no longer depends on how well knit your town is. Self expression of our own strange disconnected tribe has become paramount in our private lives.

The family we leave behind when we travel to the next watering hole can now keep in touch no matter the distance. We have video calls that let grandmothers and grandchildren connect thousands of miles apart. We have social updates via facebook, twitter, G+ and other networks that let us feel like we are at home no matter where we are.

Relationships have changed as well of course. Divorce is at record levels and children are more often missing a parent. Polyamory and adultery have become commonplace in many parts of the world. No longer do people wait for marriage to enjoy their sexual appetites. The lack of emphasis upon lineage and putting down roots is what I believe allowed it to become rampant. Of course this has been helped along by the invent of contraceptives and such.

Where once a man or woman had to stay in their relationship; pressured by society or pressured by family. Now a person can strike out on their own without family, without ties; and they can succeed. We job hunt, we seek opportunity, we go where there are resources and leave when those resources dry up. We create new communities, new tribes. We form corporations to rule like land barons of old and we work for them, like serfs. When the corporation rises, hopefully so to do we rise, when it falls we move on to greener pastures.

We have become tribal, we have become hunters and gatherers again. Even our corporations move from country to country, place to place. Factories close and another opens. One mine closes and another piece of ground is broken. The towns we leave behind dry up and vanish. The ones we go to swell with newcomers and thrive. Even our romances are nomadic. We come together to mate, or just to date and have fun. Then that season ends and we move on to new people.

Hunter-gatherers followed the game as they roamed the land while gathering what they needed as they passed. They were nomadic because the resources were constantly moving or being used up. I call us hunter-gatherers now, because that is exactly what we are doing. Instead of following the wild beasts, we are following the work that is available. Instead of hunting for our food, we are hunting for opportunity, be it on Wall-street or the back alley.

As we go, we pick up resources that are needed, in the past it was berries, fruits, tubers, flint, bone, whatever we found along the way. Today it is that second hand toaster oven that some one left behind in the attic of your last rental. It is the futon I sleep on, that was given to me because some one else didn't need it. It is the used car you buy because its more economical than buying new or putting yourself in to debt. Very few of the items we own, did we purchase outright and new or even rarer; build ourselves.

Many of us hunt for deals, Black Friday for instance, one of the greatest modern hunting opportunities is just an extension of our genetic heritage. One tribe hoping to bring in enough resources to make money for the quarter. Another tribe taking advantage of that to buy the thing they couldn't afford all year. Our eyes are always open, seeking these opportunities, ready to pounce and better our lives.

We are still at the transitional phase, older societies still linger, demanding the old ways while newer societies grow and thrive in the nomadic environment. There are certainly growing pains, especially as the industrial revolution comes to an end, the factory jobs dry up, and manufacturing becomes even easier, almost entirely automated. What will we become in the near future when our worth can no longer be measured by the land we own or the work we do? How will a child be raised without a village, or even a stable family unit?

One thing is certain however, we humans are adaptive, we will figure it out if we don't kill ourselves in the process.

Vaginas being used as urinals.

Penetrative watersports is severely lacking. :|

That is all.

Welp... moving... see yall in a few days/weeks whatever :P

Lavabit is gone...

<sub>My Fellow Users,

I have been forced to make a difficult decision: to become complicit in crimes against the American people or walk away from nearly ten years of hard work by shutting down Lavabit. After significant soul searching, I have decided to suspend operations. I wish that I could legally share with you the events that led to my decision. I cannot. I feel you deserve to know what’s going on--the first amendment is supposed to guarantee me the freedom to speak out in situations like this. Unfortunately, Congress has passed laws that say otherwise. As things currently stand, I cannot share my experiences over the last six weeks, even though I have twice made the appropriate requests.

What’s going to happen now? We’ve already started preparing the paperwork needed to continue to fight for the Constitution in the Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals. A favorable decision would allow me resurrect Lavabit as an American company.

This experience has taught me one very important lesson: without congressional action or a strong judicial precedent, I would _strongly_ recommend against anyone trusting their private data to a company with physical ties to the United States.

Sincerely,
Ladar Levison
Owner and Operator, Lavabit LLC</sub>


https://lavabit.com

So... I went and made some character biographies for my only two remaining characters :p
I think they turned out alright... though I might at a later date come up with a better method of displaying the images XD as it stands now, they are just kinda tacked on to the bottom of the pages.
NSFW
http://nesetalis.evil-spork.net/bio/
thinking about it, I may go back and re-create my old tiger dragon character... the one I use for avatar here. :p

-edit- and now also a basic website :P http://nesetalis.evil-spork.net/

So... got myself a VPS.. playing with it.. dicking around with ISPConfig right now though its rather overkill for what i'm doing :p

Also picked up a 000Web free site, parked a subdomain at it and hosting my stories there.
http://000.evil-spork.net/
all there, well laid out. Quite a few I haven't actually uploaded here either.

also got it up on the VPS now.. http://stories.evil-spork.net/

I'm back! (ish) Havn't got my main box setup, but give me a day or two :p

Currently using an old and horrific first gen EeePC. Likes to freeze randomly while typing XD