Here’s a painful memory.<\/p>\n
It was the Spring of 1998. I was going out with this Jewish woman I met at synagogue. I brought her over to the hovel for the first time and like a chivalrous gentleman, I showed her some of my interesting websites, including one about Dennis Prager.<\/p>\n
As she sat reading, she burst into tears. “But you admire this man?” she said. “And how you write about him! Oy!”<\/p>\n
Later, I held her close on the floor. I didn’t have a bed. I just slept on a sheet on the carpet. <\/p>\n
Nearby was a big stack of AVN magazines.<\/p>\n
There was a lot of yelling outside.<\/p>\n
“You’ve got to get out of here,” she said.<\/p>\n
She was perturbed about my blogging and felt like she needed to set some limits. So she told me what type of photos I was allowed to take if I was going to date her.<\/p>\n
The next day, I went into an office in the San Fernando Valley where they were shooting a movie. I snapped some photos of the forbidden variety and put them on my blog.<\/p>\n
“Well, that didn’t take you long,” she said that night on the phone. “I guess you’ve made your choice.”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Here’s a painful memory. It was the Spring of 1998. I was going out with this Jewish woman I met at synagogue. I brought her over to the hovel for the first time and like a chivalrous gentleman, I showed … Continue reading