The Anthology of Lucia Paola Corrales Ortega, and Erik Stone

I can’t imagine that there is any guy out there that won’t like the photo on this post, though somehow, I know it’s true, cause there are some really strange guys out there.

Visual imagery is important to most guys, and we have different tastes.  This girl is the height of my ideal.  Her body is perfect to me, but no girl is “The Only One,” unless a man makes her so.  Her tits, pussy, long legs, skinny body, hair, her insatiable love for sex and kink, all perfect, and those things being perfect,  is exactly why I loved her.

Lucia Paola Corrales Ortega

When I knew her, she was a nice person, and so was I.  That is the tragedy of our story.
*This page and site are under construction, so forgive me if the details aren’t enough*

An exotic girl, from Peru.  When I met her, I wasn’t even totally sure where Peru was, but I knew it was a cool place; it had a reputation that I’d heard of.  I was surprised to find it on the West Coast of South America.  The mystery of meeting someone from of far off land is pretty cool, and sexy.

I thought this girl must be married, and if not, I still wouldn’t have any chance with her, because she was too hot.  The second time I saw her, I realized that I had to do something . . . love at second sight.
She was the fitness attendant at the hotel I was staying at.  This girl was different from the other money-grubbing Latinas I’d met, I thought.  When I came down to workout in the fitness center, which was always empty, she would bring me extra water, as part of her job.  Then she would bring me more water.  Her actions were pretty unique, and I thought, maybe this girl is doing more than just her job, cause this was the best service I’d ever gotten, even in a swanky hotel.  Maybe she was trying to communicate something to me . . .  that I hadn’t understood?

Even still, I just smiled and said thanks; too embarrassed to ask for her phone number or a date.  I patronized that fitness center a couple of days a week.  I wanted to work out and get into shape, but it terrified me that this super-hot girl would be there, so nice and accommodating, and who distracted me from my workout.  However, I learned that if I focused on her while I was working out, I got more done, and I felt more confidant.  After a month of agonizing stress, I finally thought I had the courage to ask this girl out.
As I finished my workout one day, I don’t know exactly what I said, or what she said, but I tried to say something more than, “ok, thanks, bye,” but I didn’t manage much more than that, and after walking, literally three feet out of the fitness center door, I power walked down the hall until I could catch my breath, thirty or so feet later.  Fail.  Shit.

After that day, I resolved to ask this girl out on a date, who surely had a boyfriend.  I resolved to say one sentence a day which was different from the next, just so I didn’t seem like a blithering idiot to her.  I’d say,”So how was your day?,” and she’d say, {insert anything in this field} and I’d say, “ok, thanks, bye,” and run away.  The next time I’d say, “How are you doing today,” and she’d say, {insert anything in this field} and I’d say, “Ok, cool, bye,” and run away.

One day I decided that I had to ask her out, no matter the consequences.  I had to win or be rejected, and I was ready for the rejection, that was certain.
I got to the front desk.  We were alone as usual.  The Super Bowl was in Miami that weekend on February 4th, 2007.  I asked if she was “planning on going to the Super Bowl,” since practically every guy would be, and certainly she would have a boyfriend, at minimum.
She said “No.”
(Holy fuck, I was terrified).  I asked if she was “going to any Super Bowl parties that weekend,” cause practically every guy would be going to one of those parties.  She said “no,”  and she said, “I don’t really have any friends, here.”  OMG . . . I knew she was lying about not having friends, which meant . . . she liked me.  OMG.

I almost ran the fuck out of that place so scared, because I actually knew what that comment meant.  With that, I’d managed to drum up the courage, if you can call it that, to say, “oh, well maybe, if you’re not doing anything, we could hang out.  What’s your phone number?”  She wrote it on a very little torn piece of paper and she said some other stuff, but I didn’t really hear any of it . . . I was looking at her face and her tits under her uniform which was not revealing in any way.  I said, “Ok, thanks, bye,” and ran the fuck out of there.

I heard about all these “rules” like the “two day rule.”  You shouldn’t call for two days or some shit, or was it three days?  This was important, and I gave it a least two days to be sure.  When I called, she was all like, “why didn’t you call me sooner?”  I was thinking shit, I fucked up.  I remember this one girl when I was a lot younger that worked at Jamba Juice, that gave me her number.  I called a few times and she never called back, but the voicemail was really her.  I was devastated, and obviously, I never forgot that.  After talking with Lucia a bit, it seemed like the rule was a really good call, because she was waiting for me to call, and I had no idea until I talked to her.  It was easy to wait anyway, cause I was super nervous about calling.

Our first date was just walking in a beach park, along the beach paths.  There is a pedestrian overlook, and a little bench there, which is still there as of 2019.  I don’t remember anything I said on this date, but I remember what I was thinking . . . I was thinking this girl is the hottest girl I’ve ever been on a date with . . . and oh my god, she is so fucking hot.  I gotta do something.

On the pedestrian overlook, we were sitting on the bench together talking and I just kissed her.  It was clear right away that she was either retarded or had never really kissed a guy before.  When she kissed back, her lips were like huge suction cups covering my lips and slobbering over my whole face from my chin to my nose . . . even with my first girl, she didn’t do this stuff, probably because I wasn’t that girl’s first . . .

Was this how Lucia had really learned to kiss, or was this inexperience?  She was in her 20’s, not 15 years old.  I couldn’t decide immediately what I thought about this, but I didn’t care much, cause she was fucking hot.  My hand moved up to a tit, slowly.  Upon full contact, she said, “no,” in a very sexy and not repulsive way.  I backed off a few seconds and we continued kissing.  Again, I moved up.  She said something, “Not yet,” or something like that, but we kept kissing.  I continued and she said nothing.  I think I may have even gone under her shirt at some point, but I don’t remember.  It was a great time for the both of us.  No doubt that this is “rape” in fucked-up-modern-america . . . fuck you, you stupid, fucking, assholes. Racists, Feminists, and Racist Feminist Pigs.
On the way home, we held hands, talked, and smiled a lot.  I thought fuck, this is so awesome . . . this is the best thing that has ever happened to me.
I was so hot for her in the first 30 minutes, that I got blue balls for the very first time.  It was really painful and I’d heard about it, but the only remedy was to relieve it by jerking off, which I did in the bathroom.  My balls still hurt after, but felt a lot better than before.  I came back out, still with some pain, and moved the. bikini between her legs to the side and we fucked.  I’d had sex on the beach before, but this was the best, even though my balls still hurt from the pent-up desire.  My god . . . that was the end of it for me.  I loved this girl.

The next several weeks, I made sure that my dreams came true.  When my roommate, liked the the condo at 90 degrees Fahrenheit, my girl and I slept out on the balcony, so we could make our own heat, and keep cool.
She even said she liked to pretend that I was “raping. her.”  She liked to fight a little during sex, which I though was a little strange, but we all have our own kinks, and I thought it was cool that she had something interesting that turned her on.  Sometimes she would fight alot and I’d have to tone her down cause I was worried about getting hurt.
She did give me the usual AWALT stuff, which was a hurdle for me at the time, but I overcame it, even in my ignorance.  It was as close to heaven as I’ve ever come, at the time.
It was her dream too, but I know now that she isn’t capable of the same feelings that I felt.  A fling for her in America, with a rich, blue eyed guy that lives on the beach . . . is there anything better for a flaca girl from Arequipa?

God, she and I went on the best of adventures.  She “loved” me half as much that woman can, and I loved her, more than a man ever should.

When we ran over and killed a dog, I felt that she loved me.  Can you imagine an American women like that?  We were in Cabanaconde.  When we left a place that had a great view of the canyon, we had three dogs chasing us in the recently created mud.  They all bit at our feet, while I rode our motorcycle at top speed.  There were no lanes, and there were no rules.  You survive.  The biggest dog bit and snapped at our legs as we pulled away.  My girl and I, hit a “puddle” in the middle of what Americans would call a dirt road. . . . except that it was thirty-foot-long puddle.
The puddle slowed us down to 6mph, and the dogs caught up quickly, again.  As we exited the “puddle”, we started to pull away again, just barely keeping ahead, and one dog decided it would be a good idea to try to bite us from the other side as it crossed in front of us.  Bump . . . yelp, as one or more legs of that dog ran under our wheels.  We saw the other two dogs of the pack give up the chase as well.  These dogs were out to hurt us, but this time, was the first time I’d ever felt that hurting a dog kept me alive . . . I felt pretty good that I protected a girl that I loved, and I felt a little bad that dogs had to get hurt, because of their own, poor decisions.  I do wish that we had a little more natural consequence in the US.

Lucia and I survived, un-maimed.  She probably didn’t know that death was a possibility in this case.  She had a can of OC that I’d given her and I yelled at her to use. She was reluctant, but she attempted an effort, I think, and it may have made a bit of a difference.  Certainly, a girl from the US would have let get mauled to death, out of insubordination, and pride, because she “didn’t want to hurt the dogs” that were attacking us.

While riding at about 37mph on the way back to Chivay, we saw a van passing us and going the other direction.  A dog that saw the van, bolted from the bushes to our right, without seeing us, intent on chasing down the van.
We hit it square in the middle, and that dog likely didn’t survive.  If it survived, I hope that it stopped chasing vehicles.  The smartest dogs I met were in Peru, and so were the dogs that were most aggressive towards motorcycles.

Perhaps this is what I really loved about Lucia, her ignorance of the realities of life, and the risks involved.  She has told me that she has no desire for adventure . . . lol . . . she has had some great adventures that surpasses many women of the world, and I’ve not written here about most of those adventures.  Some say ignorance is bliss, and it certainly is for some . . . and maybe for many.

My wife and I had our times.  I bought into the nonviolence bullshit of America, because I was raised mostly by my mother.  My mother took advantage of the Feminist, American dream, and I don’t blame her for that.  An American woman can fuck whomever she wants with no repercussions.  Physical correction from a man, is a criminal offense, and has been for awhile now, and the victimhood of women is established in any situation, until proven otherwise, in America.

I married my girl, before she got pregnant with my daughter, like any good man would have for the last, few hundred years, in the America that I imagine.  I remember exactly the moment that my wife told me that she “doesn’t love me anymore,” “wants a divorce,” and that she is “pregnant.”  In that order.  I can’t think of anything worse for a woman to say to her husband.

Not every American man gets to procreate without the US Feds or State Government fucking them with a shit-ton of bricks, one way or another . . . Get the fuck out of America is my advice, if you are a man, unless you are an illegal immigrant, in which case, it’s clear that where you come, is a shithole that almost everyone wants to escape from . . . no one blames you.

Bye Bye Ringtones with Apple’s Catalina MacOS 10.15

Apple decided that custom ringtones were not going to be a part of macOS Catalina. This is the problem.

It’s great that Apple has finally heard the deafening sounds of iTunes lovers, revolting against the totalitarianism that iTunes has become and perpetuated for more than 5 years. iTunes is now dead, and has been divided into 4 different apps . . . Music, Podcasts, TV, and Finder.

Great, except that Tones is gone too. Is this intentional? . . . probably. It’s unlikely that this is just the common ineptitude that governments, companies, and individuals commonly make.
Apple went out-of-the-way to make sure Tones was still a part of Mojave, even if the implementation of keeping customs ringtones was clunky and clearly a sign of future removal.
I wish I could say “deprecation,” instead of removal, but that would mean that something had replaced Tones, but nothing, currently has.
Say goodbye to your Mac being able to have custom ringtones that are able to sync to your phone . . . oh, I’m sorry . . . iPhone.

If you care about your custom ringtones syncing to your iPhone, then please send feedback to Apple at:

Black Holes are the Universe’s Tectonic Plates

Scientists now say that black holes look more like fountains, than donuts

I remember when I read that “no one knows what is in the center of galaxies.” Then Stephan Hawking was lauded as the guy that figured out that there were probably black holes in the center of all galaxies. It was pretty obvious to me, as a kid.

Now, with all the “dark matter” hysteria, you’d think scientists would be able to make the obvious hypothesis that black holes are the universe’s tectonic plates. Just like the tectonic plates on Earth, recycle the surface of the planet, black holes recycle the surface of spacetime.

The idea that the universe continually expands until it rips apart is dumb. We already know from particle physics, that matter can pop in and out of our known universe, along with antimatter. The same should be true with black holes resurfacing our spacetime. As our universe expands, a timespace vacuum is created that will create matter to fill the expanding void.

We know black holes consume matter, but what offsets that matter consumption? Somewhere, matter is being sucked into the universe. When we find those locations, we’ll have our answer to dark matter. Finding where the matter is coming from, is the key to understanding what dark matter is.

I know that black holes are our subduction and obduction zones in the universe, though no one has really published the idea that black holes aren’t as similar as everyone imagines. Where are our orogenic belts and divergent boundaries for the universe?

The big question remains . . . where is the matter coming from, that is filling the void that is being created by our universe expanding at such a rapid rate? Black holes make matter disappear, but where does matter appear?

SW Steakhouse, after Steve Wynn Sold His Shares

My reviews on Google Maps, which is the best mapping platform on the planet, are being wasted, on Google. They don’t pay me, and they are the antithesis of evil in American politics.
I thought that the SW Steakhouse was the best restaurant in Las Vegas . . . but I’d never been there before.
So I went, and took my family.
Here’s how the three-out-of-five-star-meal went:

Both, the Sanuki, Wagyu, and the Filet Mignon were absolutely perfect.
The steak tartar was good.
The Seafood Spectacular was charred, in a way, that gave it a “steak-like” flavor. I didn’t like that, but if you want seafood, go to Lakeside.

I came for the Kobe beef, but they didn’t have it, tonight, and it wasn’t on the menu.

The service was quite good, from the general service staff. Plates were removed promptly and water was kept full.
Hosting was accommodating, even when we showed up an hour early.
I was disappointed with our waiter, Fernando’s service. He seemed to be a down-to-earth person, while on the job, at what I thought to be the best restaurant in Vegas. I expected to have a lot more formality. Instead, he actually tried to talk me out of the most expensive item on the menu, recommending that I try the American Waygu before trying the Japanese Sanuki.

Because it was my Mom’s birthday, I wanted everything to be perfect. I had a flower arrangement ordered for the table, and the Wynn did a perfect job with that. I also had a pre-authorization to pay for everything, and that completely flopped. At the end of the meal, Fernando was unable to find any preauthorization (not his fault, probably). I paid on the spot with a standard bill.

For a three person meal, at over $700 (with the tip), SW Steakhouse was fine. The ambiance was nice and my Mom liked it.

However, there are quite a few places in Vegas that have the same, or better, everything; be it food quality, service, or prices.

Gary Jules’ Mad World

I saw Donnie Darko alone, in 2004 on a sliver of land in the Atlantic, in November.  It was cold, windy, and lonely.  It was the perfect film for that night. It was creepy and strange, but had something to say.  I’m not really sure what that was, at the time . . . and I maybe I still don’t, even to this day.

There was a moment that things were clear in the film, and that was a montage with the song Mad World, a cover song for the original by Tears For Fears.  It showed several of the characters in various emotional states.  It was Bradbury melancholy, in sound and video.
Strikingly, a song released in the 80’s, had really struck a chord with Millennials, and maybe even bled into the pre and post generations.  Even the “Gears of War” video game franchise, adopted it in one of their sequels, at the beginning of one of their most popular maps.  The slowed down cover from Gary Jules, is a commentary on our current, American culture.  We can play a video game, with all players controlling an avatar of grotesque violence, that frequently smashes the skulls of opponents or saws them in half, in beautiful 4K, with the quiet song of Mad World as the intro.

I liked the movie, but the song is what really stuck with me.

It reminds me of something like what Phil Connors heard every morning . . . “Okay, campers, rise and shine, and don’t forget your booties ’cause it’s cooooold out there today . . . it’s cold out there everyday.”

The original song had a similar feel.  A feel that no matter how bad things are, there is a positive beat, and that we are all here for another day.

I graduated in the year 2000.  Is my generation feeling extreme dissatisfaction with the status quo, the rat race, and their childhood?  If you don’t get up early, is that bad?  Is it common to know people, but not be able to connect with them, in the way that you want to, or expected to?
If you do get up early, and work hard, are you going nowhere?
Are we unable to feel real emotions, other than apathy and indifference.
Is being sad so horrible and terrifying that we want to die?

Maybe for some of us, but not for me.  It’s songs like this that remind me that no matter how bad that any of us think things are, we chose to be here, up until this moment, and at any moment, we can choose not to be.

That’s pretty empowering, and it’s songs like Mad World, that remind us of that.


Zero of LWRC IC-A5

Long overdue, I just bought my first AR-15.

For all the lovers of the gas impinged design, let me just say, I love Conservatives, and I am one, but only in regard to politics.

There isn’t anyone that says LWRC’s M6 is crap.
Everyone agrees that the nickle-boron carrier is pimp.
Fully ambidextrous is a rare thing.

I’ve shot 300 rounds on my new rifle.  My friends from Minnesota tell me that I should spend as much or more on my scope as I did on the rifle.  A $2000+ scope seems a waste to me.  Seriously, we are talking about a device that puts a plus sign or a dot through a piece of glass.  Yes, I could spend $1000 on a tennis racket, but I think I’ll be ok with a $200 one, especially because I don’t play tennis.

I zeroed my scope with a quick release mount from American Defense.  It has a single lever that secures the scope.  It’s actually really awesome to be able to easily switch between open sights and the scope.
Although, with the open sights, I pretty much hit nothing that I wanted (20MOA), at 100 yards.  This was my first attempt at open sights on this rifle, and I have not made any adjustments on the open sights.  I’ll zero them at 50m on another date.

The manual says after 1000 rounds, I should clean it.  That’s one fifth of the barrel life.
I did see some some build up on the front of the rifle, where the piston system expels gas.  It looked exactly like the carrier would look after a couple hundred rounds through a direct impingement system, except it wasn’t in a place that matters.  I think I could burn the barrel before I would get any malfunction.

I’m so happy that this was my first AR rifle.  I couldn’t do any better for what I wanted.
The AK is obsolete.

Altered Carbon

The first season was quite good.

The nudity was great and realistic.  The Sci-Fi was totally confusing and cool.

Spoiler for one sentence!!!!!!
Dichen Lachman finally gets fully nude for a long time and it’s awesome.

There were some inane Feminist themes in the 8th-9th episodes that were hard to take, but it’s not just the men that are tortured to death, multiple times, so it’s kind of balanced.

Watch it, cause it’s awesome.



EA/Dice Battlefront II / 2 Review

Battlefront 1 was a huge disappointment on the Xbox One release date.  Lots of glitches, grammatical errors, terrible balancing of Star Cards and Heros, and limited content.

Battlefront 1, more than a year after its release, is a significantly better game than Battlefront 2.
I wish I could say that the sabotage (pun intended) of Battlefront II was malice, but it’s clearly just the incompetence of a corporation with too many opinions and no king.

I can’t tell describe how much I was excited for Battlefront II.  EA/Dice was going to take the best feedback from Battlefront 1, and give all of us a game that would be better than the last.  I expected better graphics, new maps, more heros and villains, and an experience that had the polish that Battlefield 1 has, but in the Star Wars universe.

Disappointed a second time on release.

The Beta was alright, for a beta.  With all the excitement and feedback from it, the obvious absurdities would be corrected, right?

Seeing the final release was devastating.

I’m going to jump to the chase and then break it down . . . Buy Battlefront 1 for $10, and forget about Battlefront 2 for a least 6 months to a year.

EA/Dice knows they fucked up this sequel, and they acknowledge it by saying, “listening to fans has been important in making sure Star Wars Battlefront II is the very best experience for all of you.”  Translation, “Please do our job for us, and tell us how to make something great . . . cause we forgot how.”

Sounds just like every politician out there.

Visually, Battlefront 1 is a beautiful game, with authentic sounds and sparks flying upon impact from laser blasters.  Turning your lightsaber off an on, is gratifying and sounds perfect.  Battlefront 2 has even better visuals, especially on Xbox One X, but lacks the classic feel, and a “feature” has been added . . . you can’t turn your lightsaber on or off.

I will say that I’m glad that lightsaber wielder can finally change from a left or right camera angle, but to take away the ability for lightsaber wielders to turn their lightsabers off or on, is unwarranted, and two steps back.

If you want any game, just because it has a Star Wars theme, then get Battlefront 1, cause it’s cheap and awesome.  Don’t buy the expansions, cause they are still expensive.  If the price of the expansions for Battlefront 1 don’t come down, then just stay away from the Battlefront franchise altogether for a year or more.

If you don’t have a lot of time . . . just take my word for it.  If you have a lot of time, then just read all the other reviews . . . cause after all, we will probably continue doing EA/Dice’s job for them as they repeatedly fail on this title, and we repeatedly mourn.



Quiet vs Loud Motorcycles, and the Zero FXS

zero motorcycle  

So, yesterday, I rode the best motorcycle, ever.  It’s electric, obviously.

This Zero FXS is basically an electric version of my Yamaha WR250X.  It’s a supermoto made for on and off-road riding.
In Sport Mode, from any speed from 0-60mph, with a flick of my wrist, I could pull away from any sport car.  The torque started dropping off after 60mph, up to it’s top speed of 85mph, but it was still easy to accelerate when necessary.

I love all the things that make electric motorcycles great, like virtually no maintenance, lower total cost of ownership, better reliability, and not ever having to deal with gasoline or oil.
However, what I like most about electric motorcycles, is that they are quiet.  This bike was even more quiet than the old zero motorcycle I test drove several years ago.  It was great to be able to hear everything around me.  I could even hear the suspensions of cars around me as they hit small bumps in the road, which was very helpful in knowing when a car was going to pass me.  My increased situation awareness was stunning.

Anyone who’s ever ridden an electric motorcycle knows that it easily outperforms any internal combustion engine motorcycle in the same class.  The range is still lacking with electric, but if you live in a US city, and don’t do road trips, then an electric motorcycle’s range is no longer an issue.

So, why isn’t everyone already riding an electric motorcycle in US cities, and instead, still waking up everyone at night with their loud exhaust?

It’s because there are a lot of motorcycle enthusiasts that enjoy their loud, obnoxious, exhaust.  They like the attention they get when they disturb someone else with their loud muffler or near  lack of one.  When asked, they defend their position by saying they need a loud exhaust for their own safety, so drivers can hear them coming.  They also like to say that electric aren’t as safe, because they are too quiet.  Basically, “safety” is their excuse for being an ass, which works when told to non-motorcyclists, politicians, or Liberals.  Here is a great article that explains why guys like that don’t actually care about safety and why they are just loud, dicks.

What’s even more laughable is that these “badass,” and “independent” motorcyclists who criticize quiet, electric bikes, and claim that loud is safe, are actually relying on other people’s ability to hear them coming.  By not driving a quiet electric motorcycle, they are giving up their own ability to keep themselves safe because they can’t hear over their own loud motorcycle.

My motorcycle is around 75-90 dBs stock, without any performance upgrades.  Unlike many, I’ve always considered loud engine sounds to be a negative side effect of combustion engine, not just because it’s annoyingly loud, but because my situational awareness is hindered.  With electric, not anymore.

Any motorcyclist in a city, who doesn’t need the long range that an internal combustion engine provides, and who wants better performance, can only benefit from riding an electric motorcycle.


The Largest Mass Shooting in US History, in Las Vegas

We all know the embarrassing headlines.
So I’m going to give you an “accurate” headline based entirely on information that relies on American Government and the fake news agencies.

A White, American, Muslim-ish guy from Mesquite, NV, after breaking several windows in the Mandalay Bay Resort room that he was staying in, open fired on a crowd of 20,000+ people, and killed less than 100 people and injured another 100.

At least 19,800 people were saved by their individual choices, and not by any government.  It’s so awesome that all terrorists are so ineffective at killing people in America, and I do love that about America.

The sad part is that Americans are often in terror, which is the result of not just Muslim Terrorists, but the American Media.