Along with the work I do with Lisa and PearlyWrites and the other odd seedy endeavors I am into with my music and such, I write for other web and blogsites, one of which is this thing called shortandsweetnyc.com. I review theater/film/CDs’/conduct interviews in and about the NYC area or stuff affecting the NYC area and often times I get to interview the talent of those plays/films or music. So this is why I was at Fox this day, but I’m a relatively new face as shortandsweet.com isn’t that very old, but it is gaining lots of attention, as we all know blog sites can these days. Anyway, I am sitting there when suddenly everybody wants to know who I am, who I write for and when I tell them…. Suddenly the interest over the long hair with the deep dimples and swarthy good looks (me) increased when my fellow reporters realized I worked for one of those nifty blog things that everybody is reading these days.

I had heard print was dying but man, I never saw a truer realization of this then what happened to me in those next few minutes. I try to keep a low profile as it is, I would never speak to anyone unless spoken to first (mainly because I am a chicken-shit, not because I am so cool…I’m not). Seems to me, that even if you have a good paying job in print or broadcast media, blogs and sites are what anybody who is anybody wants to write for or read these days. This one guy insisted on giving me his card-not that I asked for it-and when he couldn’t produce one, went out of his way to write his info down for me as quickly as possible. Sure I appreciate the networking, but at the same time he was saying: “Wow, there seems to be a new of those popping up everyday” after I told him I was from a .com, he was pushing his info into my hand like a desperate girl at closing time!

I liked the attention for sure, but this brief moment solidified for me what it is I am trying to do with my life. I am not on Twitter, I don’t have a Facebook page but I do send my various writings, songs even and network through email more often than not these days. Recently Lisa and I completed a press release for someone and within a half a day we garnered attention for that same some one, very good attention, quicker then you could ever have wished for in print. As Lisa has taught me, this Internet social media marketing thang is so immediate, reaches so many so fast and is now the industry standard that a dunder head like me gets attention even when I don’t know what to do with it.

Ah sweet Cybernet, how I love thee.
From ‘The Warf’, to Jay’s moderating to those big breasts of Kelly’s.
Meeting Christian and Josh and Jean Marie and Jay.
It was straight, it was bi, it was trans and it was so so gay.
So I say big love to you all, from Frankie to that spread at KINK.
I will go again and again me very much thinks.

Lisa’s added comments and attempt at writing poetry:

As the proof of Ralph walking into our hotel room wtih two beautiful women,

As Lisa finds all her Gluten-Free cookies missing…

To eating at Ghiradelli’s (not once) but twice, (Happy B-day to me!)

Hanging out with amazing business owners and creating long term connections,

MTC, Kelly, Housekeeper, AFA, Sascha, Frankie and more!

Sharing a nice time with AFA and Ralphie at the San Fran Gay Pride Parade,

Thank you LAJ and Connor for a well organized expo and tons of fun!

Through it all we attempt to eek out a living doing what it is we love to do, but most of us sadly don’t, so we steal moments when were not trying to earn money to buy our daily bread, to do this writing thang as much as we can. Given the above, when two writers meet it is often an interesting scene to say the least. It’s a misery-loves-company situation at the best of times, a knock-out-drag-out competition at the worst. Since what we do we do in private we tend to protect that ‘thang’ we do often times to such a competitive edge that we act more like Mel G. in Thunderdome than we do like regular law abiding citizens. But, for me, at Cybernet this past weekend, and especially meeting the afore mention M. Christian, this wasn’t the case…in fact it was the complete opposite.

I have been to comic, horror, sci-fi cons galore. I actually attended the second- ever Star Trek convention in NYC, the infamous one where they oversold by thousands and there were near riots by Klingons, remember that one? I have been in the music ‘biz’ for as long as I have been writing prose and that is one cut-throat backstage shmooz-til-you-die scene, I tell ya! Cybernet couldn’t have been more different. I felt more a sense of blind acceptance for and from everyone who walked down those Holiday Inn steps than I ever did any kind of a “ok, so who are you, what do you do?” posing. In fact, I happened to speak to Jay and Connor’s female temp (yes, I’m drawn to pretty girls like the proverbial moth-to-flame…and usually end up getting my ego burned) a sweet-faced brunette standing at the bottom of the steps directing us to certain panels and she remarked how wonderful everyone was, how nice and open and smiley the faces around her were and how surprised she was given the nature of the convention. I couldn’t do much more then agree; this was a group of really nice people, made more so because we all shared the nefarious business of a business most people think is nefarious but is anything but. And for a writer at a convention like this, these Theremin®-backed good vibes went a very long way.

It’s not often I discuss what I do, I simply do it. I am not a braggart (or at least hope I’m not) and am usually too embroiled in getting my latest masturbatory fantasy to computer screen while I type with one hand that I don’t have the time to do much else then write. Like everybody else at Cybernet, I was just trying to learn a few things, meet some folk, try to make it through another day with the terrible jet-lag dragging my ass while I stored what little energy I had for the KINK debauchery. Really, my mind was on business for sure, as I know all of us had our mind on business, but it was so damn life-affirming to be with people who not only understood what I did (writers, webmasters, Internet radio programmers, etc.) but who really cared about what I did. I guess, and I hate to admit this cause I really do think of myself as a dour old fuck, but I really do like people.

Along with my partner in crime-and-cookies Lisa, we really were tickled pink to meet all these wonderful folks at Cybernet and feel part of the community. And that M. Christian guy (yeah, yeah, I’ll stop gushing) I couldn’t have met someone I have more in common with if I had written him myself! He was gracious, warm, exuberant, you name the positive attribute the man exhibits it, introducing me, chatting about films, laughing…he is the bomb man! See, the writer’s life doesn’t have to be that locked-away-in-a-garret-bemoaning-a-lost-love existence (but if you got her or him locked in that garret with you, alls the better). You can find these moments, like I did at Cybernet, where you feel the true value of what you do with people whom you come so quickly to value.

(Lisa did not edit Ralph’s voice or style )

“You just leave your toys out to all your new gentleman callers?” I asked turning to her with as wicked a deep dimpled smile as I could muster considering how nervous I was.

“Well, I had no way of knowing if you’d see it,” she purred and got up on her knees. As always, my eyes dropped to the petite girl’s massive chest. “I was hoping, but if you didn’t, I could always show it to you later.”

“You are a very interesting girl,” I said, turning back to lift the anal toy from its box.

“I assume this is clean and ready for use?” I said turning back to her once again. I couldn’t help but play the tail over my pal.

“I wouldn’t put it out if it wasn’t,” Vanessa said as I stepped to her, and held the pony plug between us.”And I have the lube right here next to my bed if and when we need it.” She knelt up fully on the edge of the bed then, leaned her head back and I looked down to her thick lips. We kissed fast and just before our tongues met I released from the kiss.

“So, for you or me,” I said, looking down her alabaster cleavage to the pony plug I held.

“I guess we’ll have to see, won’t we?”

“I guess we will,” I said and moved to kneel on the bed with Vanessa.