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Don Juan de Doodlebug's page

2,646 posts. Alias of Doodlebug Anklebiter.


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Lengthy Backstory That's Just a (Possibly Boring) Summation of Stuff I've Already Posted Before


About 2002, 2003, somewhere around then, in Boston, The Black Goblin's Wicked Hawt Parsi girlfriend was going on and on about these great books she was reading, A Song of Ice and Fire, but how the author was taking way too much time in between each book. She was quite frustrated and the subject came up, time and time again, about this writer, George R.R. Martin, and how he was "being a wicked dick" to his readers. I was intrigued, because she was so emotionally attached, but wary, because, you know, I don't need that kind of hassle in my life. I decided that I wouldn't read them until the series was done or Mr. Martin shuffled off this mortal coil, which, of course, I hope never happens.

Fast forward a bunch of years and me and The Black Goblin find our way back from Boston to New Hampshire. The HBO show comes out and I maintain my vow. The Black Goblin buys the first season on DVD. He watches the whole thing; I refuse to watch even a minute. He finishes and promptly starts watching it again with a roommate (my Tattoo Artist Former Player-Turned-Dungeon Master). I refuse to watch even one minute. He finishes and promptly starts watching it again with a different roommate (Buddhist Monk Former Player Whom I Haven't Seen in a While). I break down and watch the first episode. Am blown away.

(Parenthetically, watching the first season of Game of Thrones three times in a row had a deleterious effect on The Black Goblin. He bought a Westeros cookbook and started drinking a lot of mulled wine. Speaking of winters, that one around the D&D table was terrible.)

Anyway, I run home, dig my copy of A Game of Thrones that I had bought for a quarter at the East Boston Public Library donations bin out of a box and read the first half in 24 or so hours before I finally get a hold of myself, throw the book across the room, and maintained my vow. I did, however, watch the first half of the season up to where I stopped reading.

Fast forward a bit more and I start going out with La Principessa. She keeps going on and on about how I have to read A Song of Ice and Fire. I tell her about my vow. She doesn't care. She keeps telling me about this article* my Independent Maoist-Inclined Red Historian Rival for Her Affections (Since Vanquished) has written, and if I won't read them and talk to her about them, I guess she'll have to talk to somebody about them... (She really, really relishes this game of trying to drive me insane with jealousy, but doesn't respond at all well when I tell her about how I bought a copy of The Land of Oz for a female comrade in Boston a couple of months before I met her, and how happy that female comrade was, how she brightened up when I handed it to her and...Baby, put that down! Why are you so angry? She doesn't mean anything to me, I love you, baby!)

*I've never read it and take no responsibility for anything it might say.

Spoilered for Disgusting Goblin Sexiness


Anyway, I was trying to figure out what to read after The Whispering Swarm and realized that I was going down to Brooklyn this coming weekend, so I call up La Principessa:

"Hey, baby, I was thinking, you want me to read A Song of Ice and Fire so we can watch the tv show together, right?"


"Okay, well, I'm thinking that I'll start reading them now and we can start watching the first season this weekend."

"You will? Yay!!!!"

"Yeah, and I was know, I was thinking we could play a, kind of like, a drinking game while we watched the show..."

"A drinking game? Hmm, well, I'm sure there must be all kinds of Game of Thrones drinking games on the internet..."

"Well, not really a drinking game, just kind of like a drinking game..."

"What do you mean?"

"I was thinking that we could watch the show and, you know, stop everytime they have sex and, uh, have sex."

After a 20-second pause, "I like this idea."

"Yeah? I was thinking that, you know, we could stop when they were having sex and do whatever they're doing on the screen."

She involuntarily makes a sound that is half-moan/half-gasp and says "Baby, I really like this idea."

"Yeah?" "Yeah." "Where are we going to get a little person?"

She laughs. "Well, his sex scenes are mostly just him in bed with giggling prostitutes..."

"Baby, I can't wait!"

Worth breaking my vow for, I think.

Anyway, I made a joke about posting about it on the FB page of My Independent Maoist-Inclined Red Historian Rival for La Principessa's Affections (Since Vanquished) and she said "What have I told you? Facebook is public. You can't talk about our private lives in public." She must have heard my frown through the phone because she then added, "But I don't care if you want to tell all your little friends on Paizo."

Have been watching all of 30 Rock on and off with La Principessa over the past few months. Came to the realization that Liz Lemon is a scrubbed-up, made-for-TV version of La Principessa with all of her problems made cuter.

In fact, had a dream the other night that I was in the middle of a messy break-up with Liz Lemon. Told La Principessa about it and she was delighted. "I like Liz Lemon!" Hope that doesn't make me Dennis Duffy...

1 person marked this as a favorite.

We're working on it.

After I took back being adamant about not moving to New York, she agreed to consider thinking about not being adamant above not leaving New York.

Anyway, she went back to her expensive, non-insurance covered behavioral therapy to learn how to deal with her anger management and other emotional outbursts, so, you know, she's trying.

Love Among the Commie Nerds

Had a pretty bad fight with La Principessa. She got some text messages from the increasingly spiraling out-of-control, manipulative, conniving and desperate Mrs. Comrade ("I know we haven't been close lately" yeah, after you drove her away back in January, you crazy psychopath! "but I thought I should tell you I don't like the way [Doodlebug] and [Mr. Comrade] talk about you, etc.") which led to her writing an e-mail letter which wasn't very nice to which I responded with an e-mail letter that wasn't very nice and in which I told her I didn't want to move to New York. We break up.

Full fury of La Principessa is unleashed, on-and-off, for the next 48 hours. Anyway, at one point she starts going on about "You shouldn't tell people you'll always be there, you shouldn't tell them you'll love them forever, you shouldn't lie to people like that!!!! [Cries]"

It was pretty terrible, lemme tell you. Anyway, I go to go play D&D to get my mind off of shiznit and the Druids Council tells me that there is a bear cub at the local zoo who sounds like a good candidate for animal companionship.

So, The Mad Hermit goes down to the zoo, scopes it out and concocts a plan. It was a great plan. I cast charm animal, got into the bear cage, made friends with the cub, we dug a hole and I hid in the bear cage all night nuzzling with the cub. Next morning, the zookeeper comes into the monkey cage next door. The Mad Hermit from his hidden vantage point, casts entangle on the zookeeper. He makes his saving throw. "Wtf?!?" I cast charm animal on one of the monkeys to get him to steal the zookeeper's keys. The monkey makes his saving throw and flings poo at me.

My beautiful plan foiled, I decide to give up on the bear cub and release her from animal companionship. The DM, not having any idea what's going on in my personal life, says "Really, you spent all that time bonding with the cub, becoming companions for life, and now you're just going to walk away?" I start sobbing. The Black Goblin, who does know what's going on, puts his hand on my shoulder. The Mad Hermit keeps walking and the DM decides to twist the knife. "As you pass a couple of zookeepers, you can see on their clipboards that the bear cub is scheduled to be put down later in the day." I flip out, attack the zookeepers, the zookeepers tase me and throw me in an offal ditch.

I come to hours later, make my way to the meeting place where I am supposed to meet the rest of the party, covered in poo, and make a grand entrance, flinging feces all over the place as I gesticulate wildly and tell the party members that they have to follow me to the zoo. They demur. I seethe. The DM lays out the whole exposition and backstory for the adventure, but I can't listen, I am obsessed with this bear cub who, my THC-addled mind is now convinced, is a metaphor for my relationship with La Principessa.

I bide my time impatiently, until the DM starts talking about some symbols that might provide a clue to the plot. The Mad Hermit pipes up, "I've seen that symbol!" "Where?" ask the PCs and the exposition-giving NPCs. "At the zoo in the bear cage! Let's go!"

Eventually, we get down there and the Mad Hermit surprises the rest of the party by suckerpunching the first zookeeper we run into and stealing his keys. More zookeepers assemble and I push the dwarven fighter at them and yell "Look out, he's got a knife!" The zookeepers pull out their tasers.

A ridiculous combat breaks out where the party, all good, agents of the church, whatever, are trying to prevent the zookeepers from tasing them, but refuse to strike back. Meanwhile, The Mad Hermit is ignoring the melee and trying to break into the bear cage. I get in. The older bears don't like what's going on, so the dwarven cleric of nature has to intervene to prevent me from getting mauled. I free the bear. I try getting it to flee the zoo with me, but the DM points out that I had already released it from animal companionship and it no longer wants to be my friend!

The Mad Hermit starts sobbing, falls on his knees before the bear cub and cries out "Francesca!" The Black Goblin says, "Ohmygod, do you want me to punch you in the face?" which I guess is New England Teamsterspeak for "I am sorry you are in pain and will do my best to support you." The Mad Hermit is pleading with the bear cub, crying, "Please come with me Francesca, please come with me." The bear cub bites the Mad Hermit and drops him to -3 hp. I start crying. "Let the Mad Hermit die! He doesn't deserve Francesca's love!" The dwarven cleric heals him anyway.

Later, I have to explain my behavior to the DM and apologize for ruining the session, tell him what's going on with La Principessa; the DM is aghast.

Next day, more terrible back-and-forth on the phone with La Principessa which leaves me wailing on the kitchen floor like a wounded animal before she repents and starts sending apologetic text messages which leads to reconciliation. She calls after I get out of work, I'm feeling better, tell her the story about The Mad Hermit and the bear cub. I'm laughing a little as I tell the story, but she starts crying and says "I'm so sorry, baby, I don't want to hurt you anymore! [Sobs] I love you! [Sobs]"

I think we're back together.

F!!$in' D&D.

[Adds to list for La Principessa]

Don Juan de Doodlebug wrote:
Done. Get back to you on the response.

It got a "like." Headed down there now to find out if she's more responsive in person.

Done. Get back to you on the response.

I, too, am a great big fan of the works of Vanessa Pablovovitch Shachtman.

Semi-related, it's not Petrarch or nothin', but I used the above Ian McEwan quote on La Principessa and it worked like a charm.

Immature poets borrow, mature poets steal!

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Krensky wrote:
Comrade Anklebiter wrote:
Krensky wrote:
Which is weird, because if he payed attention he'd know that Anklebiter assumes a dozen positions far more contradictory and convoluted before he puts his pants on in the morning.

[Fails Will save]

For example?

Alternate response: Yeah, that's what your mother said.

Joke's on you, my mother's dead.

Alternative response: So's your face.

I'm sorry to hear that, son. Your mother was an extraordinary woman.

Ange de la Nuit wrote:
EDIT: Why is J~%ya distorted? It's not a curse word, as far as I know. J-i-z-y-a is the word, minus the -'s.

Apparently, it's too close to "j@@z," as in, slang for semen.

I didn't know that was on the proscribed word list, either.

[Ends up wallowing in Declan MacManus instead]

"I don't wanna be your lover/I just wanna be your victim"

"You say I've got no feelings/Well, this is a good way to kill them"

Been a while since I listened to This Year's Model. Damn, that's a fine album.

Usagi Yojimbo wrote:
Limey, that is a fantastically ugly man. My eyes hurt now.

Bebe Buell (Liv Tyler's mother) thought he was kinda cute. Of course, Ms. Buell also thought Steven Tyler and Elvis Costello were kinda cute, so...

Man, I shoulda learned to play guitar.

Have spoken with her all of twenty minutes since Wednesday night. It's weird. Usually I have to recharge my phone every day, but not since Wednesday. Hmmm.

A couple of Facebook messages, including one of her saying "There Is a Light That Never Goes Out" is the co-dependent's anthem.

I don't know what she's talking about. "To die by your side, well the pleasure, the privilege is mine."


Maintained radio silence for 35 hours before breaking down and sending her a quick message about how sad I was and how I hoped she was doing well.

Got this back in return:

I'm okay, but it changes nearly hourly. The only thing that makes me feel slightly better is not dragging you into this.

I know it's making you sad, and I'm sorry. But sometimes we have to do things that hurt to get to better things. I need to stop hurting, and I finally feel like I can make some progress without the crushing guilt of bringing you into the pain and watching you slowly unravel.

We will talk soon. I just need this time. I love you.

My resolve is already crumbling, comrades. I knew stat-dumping my Wisdom (6) would come back to bite me in the ass...

Limeylongears wrote:
What our Glorious Empire-Building Forebears liked to relax with at the end of a long day shooting people browner than themselves was a rollicking tale of spanking 'n' incest, going by that and other similar books I've read. Make of that what you will.

Sounds more intriguing than Horatio Alger novels and Natty Bumpo stories...

Patrick Curtin wrote:
Don Juan de Doodlebug wrote:
Bitter Misogyny
Sweet Divine Flumph comrade. That was perfect.

I showed it to La Principessa when she was up here. She blushed, then laughed, then shared it with all of her friends on Facebook.

Didn't stop her from doing it two days later, though...

(Once again, thank you, comrades.)

But, but,!

Alright, so now my obstinate contrarian side is acting up and somebody better make a case for doing whatever it takes to keep her or else I'll be applying at UPS in Queens come Monday.

Here are the last three texts she sent last night before commencing "taking a break."

[Types out for catharsis]


I love you. Please don't be torn up inside. I know this is the only way I can save this. It's just a few days for me not to think about heavy things. I just need a break. It's been an awful few weeks.


I'm afraid I'll keep snapping and snapping and wear you down until you can't take anymore. And I haven't been able to stop lashing out. I'm still a little hurt and angry from that other night--but much angrier at myself than you. I'm backsliding really fast and I have to catch myself.


And you're not doing great, baby. Nervously humming when I'm freaking out is a bad sign. Don't come down this spiral with me. I may need you up there to reach in and grab me sometimes.

We can make this work!!!!

[Collapses sobbing on the floor]

There Is a Light That Never Goes Out

[Composes four drafts of next post, erases them all, wipes off gobbo tears, keeps last sentence]

Time to dig out all my Smiths records, I guess...

Yeah, I know...

Hiding behind sex-obsessed pervert mode because otherwise I'd just be filling the thread with gobbo tears and what fun is that?

Besides, IIRC, the last time we had sex she climaxed seven times. I don't think it gets any better than that, unless, of course, I climaxed seven times, but that sounds kind of scary...

Four days after threatening to kill herself, La Principessa thought it would be a good idea to tell me that I had to hurry up and make a decision about whether I wanted to father children with her.

Told her to call me after overtime where I was going to call the whole thing off, but she had, apparently, talked to her therapist in between, who had pointed out that she probably didn't need to be thinking of such heady things as children and the future just quite yet.

So, she asked if she could take a break for a few days to which I readily agreed because I didn't feel like pulling the whole "No, I don't want to have children with a woman who just threatened to kill herself" card.

We'll see how this plays out, but, as it is, I think I'm going to have to break up with her.

[Male pig]I wonder if I can get her in bed one last time?[/Male pig]

2 people marked this as a favorite.

Bitter Misogyny

Love Among the Ultra-Lefts


Had an altercation while she was here. She wouldn't go to The New Jim Crow reader's circle discussion with me, even though a) she's just read the book; and, b) I always go to everything with her when I'm in NYC. In addition, she had been dropping hints about the Maoist-Inclined Independent Red Historian Rival for Her Affections (Since Vanquished) in a futile attempt to make me jealous.

So, I went to the reader's circle, got drunk, and came home and decided to try to make her jealous. Not the best idea, in retrospect, but it seemed liked a good idea at the time.

Anyway, I said some stuff, I won't go into it, but it centered on how I wanted to sleep with everybody at the meeting (except Mr. Comrade), etc., etc. She got really mad, I got penitent, she calmed down and went into "taking care of hurt child" mode, which, I've noticed, is a great way to get her to stop being mad at me. I just pretend to cry.

Anyway, it worked for a while, but as the next day dragged on, I could tell she was brooding over it, and it finally came out while I was helping The Black Goblin's Pregnant Dreadlocked Libertarian Ex-Welder Girlfriend move into the Free NH Goblin Breeding Caves.

I was subjected to a harangue about how some of the things I had said evinced a poor understanding of the oppression of women, women don't exist to gratify men's sexual needs, etc., etc. I thought she was overdoing it, but I pouted, and pretended to cry and eventually said some stuff about how immersion in this big, bad world can wear down even the most dedicated communist, etc., etc. She instantly stopped being mad and then went on and on about how much she loved me and no one else would ever have such conversations with her without getting angry. Then she started crying. [Shakes head] Women.

Anyway, next morning, we're lazing in bed, I start rubbing up against her, she starts rubbing up against me, I say, "You know, I know that women don't exist simply to gratify men's sexual needs, but..." She freezes, bites her lip in anticipation and manages a "Uh huh," before I roughly grab her knee and continue "But you exist to gratify all my needs," and strike. At which point she flushes bright red, gasps, and starts shaking.

La Principessa was sad for the next couple of days and then I had an epiphany.

"Baby, uh, when are you having your period?" "Oh, I got it today."


You know, she's gotta f&~$ing ap for her smartphone to track this shiznit, I don't why she doesn't use it.

Regardless, that's not really an excuse, but, fortunately for me, she's going to be working 4 hours of overtime a day for the next two weeks to score all those Common Core tests she despises so much. Should buy me some time to decompress.

[Limey spoiler]

Oh yeah, I remember that one now.

Speaking of porn, haven't made a terrible amount of progress on Leaves of Grass, but it's still pretty hawt.

Turned Mr. Comrade on to Whitman, which is fittingly homoerotic.

Speaking of more homoeroticism, two stories to go and done with The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes.

Were there more than one?

I assumed Lord Snow was talking about the fumble-porn one between the big, burly dude and the lithe desert chick.

I enjoyed it.

Thank you again, comrades.

"It sounds like she has more serious problems then a nice commie goblin can solve. Just be very careful not to enable bad behavior, as this will just get worse and worse for both of you."

It's funny how many people have told me that...

(And, to be fair, she warned me about it at the onset of the relationship.)

Anyway, she's out of harm's way for the moment. Had a long, uncomfortable conversation where she explained how she felt and I explained how I felt. Neither of us really accepted full responsibility for the way the night went, but each agreed that each's responses to the other's hostility escalated the situation out of control.

Like, for example, if pressed to highlight one of the moments where I was at fault, I'd point out the time, after a dozen nasty text messages that I ignored and six or seven calls that I refused to answer, I finally answered the phone. (This was before the threats.)

Me: Hello?

Her [dry and emotionless]: Are you out of your f+++ing mind?

Me: Am I out of my f#+%ing mind? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR F~@#ING MIND?!? [Cuts off her response] ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR F&@!ING MIND?!? [Cuts off response] YES OR NO? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR F&*+ING MIND?!? etc., etc., ad nauseam.

Anyway, I had called one of our comrades in NYC and she coached me on how to get through it. "Think of it like union negotiations..." Not the most romantic sentiment in the world, I admit, but it worked.

More to come later, I'm sure.

Darn it. I got the McEwan quote wrong.

Treppa wrote:
Currently reading Atonement by Ian somebody. So far, kinda snoozy.

I quite liked that.

"I want to kiss your [redacted]."

More pornographic poetry:

A Woman Waits for Me

Hubba hubba!

"If this is gonna be that kind of party, I'm gonna stick my dick in the mashed potatoes!"

Usagi Yojimbo wrote:

Doodlebug, I listened to part of the podcast you told us about with La Principesa and the two dudes from Brooklyn. She was interesting, but those two guys were boring as hell. She should have nationalized the microphone and taken over the show.

That's my girl!

She actually came up last night and I have passed along your praise. She blushed.

2 people marked this as a favorite.
Limeylongears wrote:
Don Juan de Doodlebug wrote:
Limeylongears wrote:
Presently making up for romantic disappointment with Guinness and 'Lean Times in Lankhmar'

I missed this before, Comrade, and I'm sorry.

I think I broke up with La Principessa today. Not to fear, though, we break up a lot.

Misogynist Musical Interlude

Ekh, thanks for the kind words - I've recovered, though. Other lines of enquiry have opened, shall we say...

I'm glad to hear it. Me and La Principessa are back together again, too.

Personally, sometimes I'd rather La Principessa would let me be and just watch some porn.

Limeylongears wrote:
Presently making up for romantic disappointment with Guinness and 'Lean Times in Lankhmar'

I missed this before, Comrade, and I'm sorry.

I think I broke up with La Principessa today. Not to fear, though, we break up a lot.

Misogynist Musical Interlude

More interesting internet-esque observations:

My post about dropping out of the communism derail and Citizen Lion's post about his experiences behind the Iron Curtain were posted at EXACTLY THE SAME SECOND and they've been jockeying back and forth in the thread order every time I look at that page.

(Yes, I kept composing more posts for the communism derail and then deleting them. I admit to the temptation but stayed true to my declaration. Anklebiter word is bond!)

Pornographic Poetry: The Cross-Post!

From Pent-up Aching Rivers

Sorry, Comrade Freehold, but I must bow to Comrade Jeff's Google-fu.


(If there are any pornographic acts that you would like me to perform while I'm down here, just say the word.)

Well, I am embarrassed that my Search Engine-fu has been found wanting, so I'll drop out of the Soviet income inequality derail and steer things on-topic:

Inside the Soviet Union's secret pornography collection

From Pent-up Aching Rivers

Dustin Ashe wrote:
Don Juan de Doodlebug wrote:
Yeah, I've noticed Hedges's Presbyterian ministerism has really been coming to the fore lately.
...not to mention his political activism, his wartime correspondentism, his investigative journalism, his bestselling authorism, His Pullitzer Prize winningism, his socialism, etc etc etc.

Yeah. I'd hazard a guess I've posted more articles by Comrade Hedges than all of the rest of you put together, including his earlier one on pornography in the 50 Shades thread.

He's an interesting liberal.

Yeah, I've noticed Hedges's Presbyterian ministerism has really been coming to the fore lately.

2 people marked this as a favorite.

I don't know. I've ranked myself among the cynical since I was a teenager; it has never stopped me from caring.

La Principessa artfully combines the sexual mores of the very early '70s with those of the late 1870s. She has no truck with those polyamorous theories of Mde. Kollontai; she was more impressed with the parts in Engels about socialism bringing about stronger, truer, whatever, monogamy. She makes a big deal about how she's all mine and she's made it quite clear what would happen if I were to ever let my eponymous attentions stray.

Whatever. I'm just happy to be here.

2 people marked this as a favorite.

Pornography and siestas, I love this thread!

[Bats dreamy Italian eyes]

Krensky wrote:
There does seem to be a shortage of snarky, minor Spanish nobility just back from campaigning...

My last attempt at a report from the trenches was cruelly lost in the swirling winds of cyberspace (tmi, I presume), so I have been content to watch other brave knights tilt against windmills.

Nowadays, I just watch porn to get ideas. They're usually harder than they look, but some of them have been quite enjoyable.

You'd think, what with many dollars worth of repairs needed to be done on the Doodlemobile, that I should be putting my nose to the grindstone, working extra shifts at the salt mines, etc., etc., but, no, instead I volunteered for a three-day furlough so I can go back to Brooklyn!


I do need lots of advice on my personal finances, but I'd probably ignore them. Ah, the precarious living of the modern proletariat!

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