tlyoung88

Kelly Deerdale, Naturist is all about knowing oneself and sexual jealousy.
This video is one of my poems I used to perform with the Travelling Bohemians, while running the Hawaii Skinnydippers.

The full story of the Hawaii Skinnydippers will be published in the tie-in book, "American Nudist: The Lost Journal."

There will be behind the scenes videos on our American Nudist Youtube Channel coming soon.

http://www.amazon.com/American-Nudist-Alicia-Arden/dp/B003RHZ65M/ref=sr_1_sc_1?s=movies-tv&ie=UTF8&qid=1320603809&sr=1-1-spell









American Nudist is now out on DVD.

When it comes to Live Journal, we can post real opinions here. If I want to say that all anti-nudists are full of shit, well, that's what they are. There will be Youtube videos picking apart their ignorant asses but first things first.

Buy your copy of American Nudist next week and support indie filmmaking. Some stories simply aren't out there for the public.

9 p.m, gotta get my gear out
Gotta sharpen my blades, gotta go downstairs
Gotta grab my floggin’ gear, whips and paddles
Packing' everything, the time is goin'
Get into the club, gotta get on stage,
The doors are open, who should I see,
coming up to my iron cross, it’s Rebecca Black!

Tying up her right arm,
Tying up her left arm.
Gotta make my mind up
Which tool shall I use?

It's Fetlife! Fetlife!
Gotta go down ( I mean get down) on Rebecca
Everybody's watching me flogging up her bare butt
Rebecca Black is
A sub to my dominatrix
Everybody's wants take her from behind.

Floggin and whipping her. (Yeah)
Floggin’ and whipping her (Ouch)
Fun, fun, fun, fun
Grabbin’ a handful of Rebecca Black.

Yesterday was Thursday, Thursday
Today i-is Friday, Friday (Partyin')
We-we-we so excited
We so excited
We gonna have a ball today

Whipping her on hours
Til she comes . . . back for more
I don't want this play to end

[Rap Verse]

R-B, Rebecca Black
I’m taking her the front way
Taking her the back way
I'm whippin’ and floggin’ (Yeah, yeah)
She’s screaming, wantin’ to be switchin’, yeah
Run the ‘lectric wand up her side (Woo! )
(C'mon) A crowd is gathering in front of me
Put on a strap on for CBT, she wants to scream
I can go all Friday night through the weekend.
It's Fetlife! Fetlife!
Making hamburger outta Rebecca
Everybody's wants that in the first place
Rebecca Black is
screaming with a ball gag
Til I make a mess upon her face.

Floggin and whipping her. (Yeah)
Floggin’ and whipping her (Ouch)
Fun, fun, fun, fun
Grabbin’ a handful of Rebecca Black.

Pacific Invasion is an online multi-media company dedicated to bridging the gap between Hollywood and Hawaii.

With strong contacts in the film industry both in Honolulu and in Hollywood, Pacific Invasion is looking for capital to put its products online, ready for ecommerce.

Its centerpiece is the Pacific Invasion Media Interview series, similar to the artist interview series, InArtMedia.com, which showcases the work of the independently famous. This site will host online interviews with prominent local artists living and working in Hawaii and on the mainland. T. L. Young has served as host and producer of the InArtMedia interview series for the past five years.

The Impact
Interviews with Hawaii-born artists living in Hollywood will serve to advise aspiring actors, writers and producers struggling to survive in Tinseltown and give them practical advice on navigating the road to their personal success. The interview series will also give the viewer additional insight into the artists' mind and their take on their craft as well as their methodology in staying in the business. After all, it's show BUSINESS not show ART.
What We Need & What You Get

We need to raise an initial $7000 to start up. This includes camera, lights and studio rental. Additional costs include website design, video editing and epublishing fees which will make our debut ebook "American Nudist" available to the public. This book, written by T. L. Young chronicles his years of running a nudist club in Hawaii.

As artists, filmmakers and writers, I have to ask this question but I think the answer is obvious. Yes, you bet we do. We are the poor slobs who overthink every little thing, contemplating our navals and are fascinated by a basic human function - copulation . . . or to put it plainly, fucking.

We yearn for it, hunger for it, starve for it, because essentially we understand it is the unity of all things, it is the energy that binds the universe and keeps our species alive.

So if we put a bunch of teen welfare moms on a reality show, we're not doing it for altruistic purposes. We do it because we envy them. We wish we could have had that hot, passionate sex that led them to that position, because we can't have that for ourselves, because we missed out on all that back in our heyday.

And I can tell you all about missing it. To this day, it's difficult for me to feel love or any emotional attachment to any woman, because of all the hurt brought on during adolescence and especially in college.

How can you please your woman when you still bemoan the loss of that hottie you had a major crush on when you turned 18? When all you remember hearing in your college days are the hot sex stories your friends tell you about the dormitories, and the panting and moaning you heard in the hallways. What you imagined is so much stronger than what you get in your real life.

Do we glamorize sex? Why the hell should we not.

Word about Tony Young's "Micky's Screening Room" spread faster than Lindsey Lohan's legs at a Frat Party. The highlight of the evening came when the supporting cast of "Soap Girl" showed up, but no one had ever heard of the movie.

Actress Jasmine Kang, who essentially played nobody, led a giant donkey into the room, grabbed its face and proceeded to french kiss the poor animal.

The donkey brayed and protested, but as Jasmine rubbed its belly, it began to enjoy the sensation immensely. This actress, the donkey surmised, had been practicing with Canadian moose.

Jasmine then bent over and allowed the donkey to mount her. It injected its fourteen inch donkey penis into small but overworked anus. After a few thrusts, to which Jasmine moaned the tune of the Korean folk song Arirang, the screening room floor was covered with donkey diarrhea, into which the rest of the female cast began swimming in. Ms. Kate Holliday commented this was how it felt like to work with screenwriter Tony Young.

The girls then covering themselves with the liquid manure and ran around the room screaming "I'm Hyung-Rae Shim's girlfriend! I'm Hyung-Rae Shim's girfriend!"

Of course, Jasmine refused to speak such nonsense as she only brags about dating retarded, overbloated MARRIED men and Mr. Shim only qualifies as two of the three. Anyone who saw his steaming piece of giraffe feces called, "D-War" would surely attest to that.

At that point, someone dropped a fifty cent piece into Jasmine's feces covered but barely existent cleavage, and she was willing to do anything.

The actresses then brought out the dessert tray and proceeded to swallow loads and loads of banana cream pie and projectile vomited it up in the air until the whole spectacle resembled the fountain at the Bellagio hotel.

While the girls played in the vomit, actress Gina Hiraizumi began to sing the Star Spangled Banner, but did not know the words. Well, actually she just forgot what century it was written in and proceeded to do her hip-hop version in the style of R-Kelly humping the Olsen Twins.

Then they proceeded to whine, pout and cry which is basically what a Korean actress does to audition for a Korean film. At that point, Jasmine Kang, the aforementioned dopey, flat-chested no talent wannabe, sacrifices herself to the donkey, which is transformed to a 500 year old dragon. The other actresses scream, "What kind of lame ass plot is that?"

The audience is then left totally confused, wondering how 90 minutes turned into 3 hours, which is basically what watching Soap Girl felt like. The director of the film comes out and asks, "What do you call this act?"

To which the girls reply, "The Aristocrats!"

I have. But I don't think that's unusual. No, it's perfectly honest.
I can go on and on because guess what? It's what I love to write about. I can write a torture scene with more passion than I can a love scene.

Because I understand that kind of pain. Let's face it. I've been picked on. I've been bullied. Now it's my turn to make those motherfuckers bleed.

There's not a day that goes by that some asshole on the bus doesn't piss the shit out of me. And yes, I wish to GOD I could just snap their fucking necks. But I don't. Not because I have a conscience, but because I can't risk being put in that position. And yes, I feel like a fucking pussy not being able to put the hurt on some asshole even though he fucking deserves it.

But it won't stop there. Because I've learned that when you truly want to kill, to hurt, to maim or to torture some shit for brains piece of lowlife scumsucking dirtbag, all that happens is you attract more lowlife scumsucking dirtbags to provoke you into attacking them.

And you'll only fall into their trap. Sucks doesn't it. That the ones you really really really really want to hurt just get away scott free.

Look at Dennis Lee, Jasmine Kang. I wish they both could be gangraped by rabid donkeys. But so what.

In the end, you're the ones surrounded by lowlife dirtbags and no one can tell you apart from them.

But Dora never cared. That amazing silhouette when she took her clothes off for the first time. In front of her.

Dora couldn't take her eyes off of her luscious round breasts with brown nippled shaped like little jujubes.

They tasted sweet on her tongue, which is absurd but she swore that's what they tasted like.

Then Kai Lan made a move for her skirt, unzipping the zipper and slipping her fingers around the cuffs of her Barney panties, which she insisted upon wearing.

Then she ripped them off. Dora giggled until she felt Kai Lan's fingers entering her. She screamed. Barney's dinosaur penis never felt this good.

Kai Lan interrupted her orgasmic moaning with a deep, long-lasting kiss. Dora's nails dug into her back, her hips undulating on Kai Lan's strong slender fingers.

Then there was knock on the door. Not a human knock. A dinosaur knock.

Xie Xie Kai Lan

by William Ghostley

I don't remember the name of the sorority I pledged for. But things like that happen when ten inches of purple dinosaur penis can do that to you, especially when you have to take it up the back way.

It wasn't planned. Dora and I were the last pledges that night. I had a crush on her and they all knew it. So there we were in a dark room, when I heard a funny kind of laughter. Whatever it was, he was huge and had skin that felt like . . . felt.

It was purple and the hyuk hyuk hyuk that came from his massive throat was loud and blaring. It didn't take long to get my clothes off. And then he thrusted it into me. I felt as though my little Asian vagina was being torn apart, but I've handled bigger. I relaxed my thighs and took it all in. His skin felt softer at my touch and I screamed. He pounded his flesh into me again and again. I thought he was going to tear me apart.

My mind raced with flashbacks of all the opium I took in my high school days. Once it led to a gigantic gangbang with the cast of the Wiggles. That was fun, and a lot less messy.

Wiping purple semen off my face was not my idea of a good time, and that ridiculous song of his was just plain annoying.

"I love you. You love me . . ."
Love, what a joke. If I still believed in love, well I wouldn't have switched teams. Still Dora was a-Dora-ble. And I can't wait 'til this pledge is over. I'd give anything for one night alone with her.

The creature walked out the door. I knew he wasn't human, but at this point I didn't care. It wasn't like I was going to give birth to a triceratops any time soon.

Dora, I asked out loud. Please stay with me.

TO BE CONTINUED

Artist Ronald Llanos's portrait of Van Nuys adorns the Metro station and rightly so. No other artist I have seen has captured the doom, gloom and basically, the ghetto-ness of this craphole of a city.

Take away the hundreds and thousands of wannabe actor transplants driving through the town (anyone who is going anywhere already has a car), forced to live in its low-rent apartments and you have the general population of this ghetto, the unseen invisible people trudging along, day in and day out to their dismal jobs.

Notice the washed out colors and the grayness of the buildings in the background, indicative of the lack of character, the lack of culture that embodies Van Nuys. The despondent expressions on the faces of the pedestrians capture perfectly the downtrodden mood of hopelessness and detachment. These people have grown old, become drones in their neighborhood.

No one makes eye contact with one another, not even the children.
Only the baby is wearing any color, a woolen cap covering her ears. Is the mother protecting her from the realities of the city or hiding this reality from her?

There is no trace of Hollywood glamor. That world exists further south, if it truly exists at all. Here in the hellhole that is San Fernando Boulevard, only the bland urban streets exist. And the feeling of dread that blankets the four corners of that world.