Peep this hole.

The thing about a blog is that there is always a plethora of topics of which one could write on. This means a particular subject should and will always be picked by the blogger (I’m not writing anything but the obvious here) whether it’s something that their interested in or, perhaps selected at random; an arbitrary choice.

Today, I think that I’m going to go with a free write. No particular subject, just whatever synapse fires for me, at that moment.



Feeling deep will only take you to the depth that you didn’t want to reach. That’s the thing about curiosity, about probing… even when you discover something positive, a wonderful sensation, it’s not enough to stop (well, unless you have a designated set of parameters with a defined goal. You know, like a science project). With this in mind, please picture a hole in the ground. It’s not even all that enticing of a hole but the fact that your arm knows no defined stretch (keeps on and on. Extending. Shit, even snaking to the hidden infrastructure of the hole, below surface) is enough of a reason to see what this hole holds.

Pulling out morsel after morsel, gem after gem, warm feeling after warm feeling… Is and will not be enough for the individual. It’s not until the first sign of a negative that the hole will begin to lose its luster. The proverbial hand on the stove, a critter bite, excavation of a human skull, an ugly look, a hurt feeling. Dig long enough and pain will be yielded. The stretched arm is withdrawn and the hole left to the ground.

So then, where is the line drawn? Is there such thing as a safe journey of discovery? One could say that if you’re not willing to deal with negatives of discovery, journey you should not. Who knows?

Speaking of holes… Who has seen a “glory hole”? (Disclaimer: Seeing a glory hole and an resulting jokes, laughter or vomit is not the same as being a patron of said hole of glory) I’ve seen two, one easily more disgusting than the other, thanks to a seemingly recent use.

I think that it’s something that everyone should encounter, at least once, while visiting a highway rest stop (you know, the gay bath houses of the 90s). But, when I think about it, that might not be that easy of an achievement. I’m going to go ahead and guess that there are significantly less female restroom glory holes, it just kind of defeats the whole purpose of (maybe) gay truckers and sneaky dentists and their anonymous activities.

You know what, I’m going to stop speculating on this subject. Thanks to not eating breakfast, 16 oz. of an Americano and this particular subject … my stomach is not feeling all that solid. At least I didn’t eat some vitamins.

Final thought is this, curious or not … don’t confuse a hole of curiosity for one of anonymous sexual deviance. Well, I guess, unless you want to make the two the same.

Womp.