I’ve been gone for quite a while, and I’m sure many of you don’t remember me. Once upon a time I wrote for Wetwired quite a bit. However, due to some personal thing I had to deal with for a while, I have been an absent friend, and to some extent a fallen comrade.

But no more…

When I think of Wetwired, I think of the good times. I remember when we were the destination website for Naked Midget Wrestling. If you typed in Naked Midget Wrestling into a search engine; BOOM… there’s Wetwired! No, we may not have had the fancy videos and pictures of some of the other Naked Midget Wrestling websites, but nobody talked or thought about it more than we did. Was it an obsession? No, you could say it was more of a vocation; a call to greatness from a higher power.

But it didn’t end there.

There was literally no other place on the web where you could find cutting edge Haiku poetry written about the courageous men and women of the porn industry that call themselves flufers. Wetwired was the ONLY website vanguard enough to immortalize these people the way they were meant to be immortalized; with ancient Japanese poetry

You may ask yourself what it says about us when no one else on the internet wants a piece of this action? It says we fucking rock more than autistic kids, that’s what it says about us.

So I say to thee yeah Naked Midget Wrestling, and I say to thee yeah Flufer Haiku!

But why stop there? Why not be THE online resource for intellectual discourse on anal hooks and JuJu Bees? (Not together, because that would just be unpleasant. And we’re Wetwired, not Unpleasant Wired. Come one people; let’s try to be reasonable…)

Why can’t we have both mockingly sarcastic political commentary, AND be the people that are sarcastically mocked by the rest of the online community. I say we can! I say we have it in us to shock those that they say cannot be shocked. I think we can affect the disaffected. I think there is no end to how much we can weird out the unwashed masses of lumpenproletariate simply by being ourselves. We are the creepy people on the internet that backwards churches warn their members about. Be proud of that!

So tell me Wetwired, what topics would you like to see addressed on this site?

I leave you with this:

Flufers work for a

Paycheck. Nuns vow poverty.

Do nuns fluff for free?

LIVE PROUD, LIVE CREEPY!

 Every bartender, no matter how stupid, quickly picks up on “danger spots”. That’s what we call the signs that a person or persons may cause trouble. The cardinal rule of danger spots is that dogs and drunks are very much the same- they are always braver in packs. Three mildly intoxicated “nice guys”, trying to show off for one another are always more trouble than one severely drunk prick sitting all by himself. I’ve seen this rule proven so many times it is my belief that it should be made a scientific law and placed right between gravity and relativity.

These three fairly well dressed women sit down at the bar and order some food to go. They show no visible signs of intoxication and I have no problem serving them two bud lights and a gin and tonic. Girl’s night out. Lots of giggling and flirting. Lots of drinking. At this time I red light them. This means I intend to cut them off but won’t tell them until they order the next round. Now every bartender hates to cut people off. Especially when they are not power drinkers, rather just people having fun. I was very relived when the food came before the booze ran out, another dirty job i could take a rain check on. As they are leaving i begin clearing away their drinks and find one missing. This has happened before, women trying to smuggle out drinks in their purse and such. I run to catch up with the lady, and realize that she has neither a purse, nor a drink in her hand. The only explanation is that she took it, and my interest is peaked to see where she hid it. When I very politely confront her, she giggles like a schoolgirl and says “caught me, didn’t ya?” In a crowded restaurant she then unfastened her belt and jeans and squatted down.

After a bit of digging around she produced the drink from the front of her pants.

While washing my hands thoroughly and disposing of the glass, I came to two conclusions. One, alcohol can make you do things you don’t want to live to remember the next day. Two, next time I don’t see a glass in hand, or a purse, I’m going to sit down, shut up and leave it the hell alone.

Sneaky Peach:
1 1/4oz peach schnapps
2oz cream of coconut
2oz orange juice
1oz grenadine
1oz sweet and sour mix
6oz crushed ice

Blend thoroughly. Pour into hurricane glass, garnish with an orange slice.

[Ratings]

(republish from 2000, previously lost)
  When most of my friends were still playing cowboys
and indians I announced to my father that I wanted a
job, and for better or for worse i began my working
life. What my father neglected to inform me of was
that working is like shaving and masturbation; once
you begin your tied to it for the rest of your life.

  In the eleven years since, I have had more jobs than
I can count. I have worked as a ranch hand,
been in construction and demolition, sold every product and
service under the sun and even had a job where I was
paid to read comic books. However for the last year or
so I have been working as a bartender- by far the most
stressful and rewarding of all my professions.

  Every day I see people at the best and worst moments
of their lives. I see them when their inhibitions are
lowered and their guard is down. This volatile
combination has lead to certain observations and
conclusions that I would like to share with others.
Your thoughts and comments would be appreciated, and I
will answer all e-mail.

My Cocktail
-3 ounces of extra dry gin
-ice

  Pour gin over ice and serve in an old fassioned glass.

[ratings]

The pizza must be too spicy dad….  

Tonight a father and son sat at my bar. The boy was only sixteen but I made an exception, it was late and there was almost no one else in  the place. They placed their orders Bud light and root beer, and I went back to stocking the beer cooler. When my back was turned they  commenced with the usual small talk, how’s school, how’s work, etc.  Their pizza came and this must have been the fathers queue to launch  into the more serious part of the conversation.   

” Son, your mother and I are going to get a divorce”.  I’ve heard a lot of things said at my bar, but this was a first. Out of respect, I did my best to look like I was ignoring the whole thing. ” It’s for the best. We don’t love each other and never really have, or at least not that I can remember. But hell, life goes on, right?” I took this opportunity to glance at the boy, and he was crying, not making a sound, just tears on his cheeks and a sick look on his face.  The man flagged me down and I dutifully came over with more drinks.   

The father looked over at his son and noticed that he didn’t look to well. “What’s wrong son?” ” I don’t know dad, they must have just put too many peppers on my pizza. ” They finished eating in silence and I brought them their bill. It was settled and just as I was about to leave, the father asked me “So that waitresses over there, the blond, is she single? ” I think that’s what really drove it home for the boy. It made it all real, his whole world as he knew it was just taken from him. The tears started again and the two walked out of my bar. 

Nuclear Meltdown
3/4 oz. tequila
1/2 oz. cognac
1/2 oz. passion fruit syrup
Shack well with ice and strain into a shot glass. 

(Like what you’ve read? Head to the main page www.wetwired.org and check out what else we’ve done lately!)

Repost from 3/18/2002 - Lost from previous websites. 

            I have three beautiful female friends that are intelligent, artistic and quite religious. I have for many years admired them. The other night during a very enjoyable conversation about everything, and nothing, one of them made a comment that has troubled me deeply. I happened to be telling them about a difficult biology class I had taken a few semesters ago, and the subject turned to evolution. At dinner that night, my friend stated that evolution is a myth created by science to draw our attention away from God. That statement in and of itself was enough to send a cold shiver down my spine, but it was the next that turned my blood to ice. I asked her why she believed that, and she simply stated, “I believe it because it’s the truth. My church said so.”

            Karen can believe in evolution or not, that’s not my problem. It scares the hell out of me to think she believed it just because someone told her too. As a child we accept what we are told, as an adult, we must question it. It’s like a type of “spiritual peer pressure.” Fast Food Religion: get on the bus, just be sure you don’t rock the boat. Our beliefs, no matter what they are, should not be a static thing. They should grow and change with us.

            What happens to us when we stop questioning what we are told? We loose freedom. An invisible barrier has just been crossed, and it becomes easier and easier to cross it each time. In most cases, we simply loose a bit of ourselves and our identity becomes more and more generic. In other cases, it’s catastrophic. How did you feel when you saw the films of people celebrating in the streets when America had been attacked? That is the end result of complacency. Those people didn’t really hate America; they hated what they had been told of America.

As long as Karen’s belief stays unquestioned, it will be like a cancer inside of her. It will sit there in the back of her mind and to some degree influence everything else about her. Ignorance and intolerance breed upon themselves, and the only cure is self-evaluation and examination. The problem is, it isn’t easy.

            The word Catharsis means to undergo a spiritual rebirth through the suffering of hardship. It comes from the Greek word that means, “to pass a hard stool.” It is supposed to be difficult to settle into our ideals; otherwise they crumble in the face of adversity. If our beliefs are handed to us, or force-feed to us, then they are worthless. They are dangerous and dehumanizing. This is not a sermon to go out and find religion; it is a plea to question what you have already been told.

[ratings]