PolkOut.com must not be all that good!

If it relies on this text up here to explain the joke.

Forum Update: The forum looks awesome now!  Big thanks to my friend Alex!  Post in the new forum: www.PolkOut.com/forum.  It's hosted on my server, and if that starts getting laggy in the future I can just pay for more bandwidth.  Any artistic contribution to the forum would be terrific.  You can still check out the old forum, and older pages will still link to it for now, so... uh... do whatever with that intel.

Quick shit for newcomers: Forum (deviant bullshit), Feedback (fan art, comments, critiques), About (check it out and contribute).  Do you have a website of your own you want me to give a shout out to?  Want to do a crazy guest strip?  You can reach me through that email or on the forums. 

Upcoming Fan Art Showcase: Whenever I get a substantial amount of fan art (we've got a few submissions on the forum) I'll dedicate a whole update to fan submissions.  Go nuts, lets see some creativity and experimentation with style.  Guest comic guidelines are in the forum.

Site Update: ...uh... apparently my mom's started reading this shit... the following is an email exchange we had:

"...I told about your travel plans and  that you can get in touch with her by e-mail. I also got warned about theft at hostels. Be careful with your passport and wallet, i.e. do not pass out partying. Since I have no details about your life, I looked at Polk."

"...You should probably never look at my website..."

"Of course, I will be looking unless you communicate with me. What's with sex and animals? Cannot find a human being?"

"I don't have sex with animals, I just watch women do it."

"How about men and animals?"

"Well that's just plain deviant.  Where do you come up with this sick shit?"

"Remember where I work? We have creative patients"

"How many bestiality related incidents have you seen?"

"Quite a few... Enough to write a book. Recent involved a cat"

"Explain?"

"Only in person"

So apparently my mom is a goldmine of bestiality tales... I feel like I've missed out having never asked her before.  Just goes to show, you never know.  I encourage all of you readers to go talk to your mothers about animal fucking and see what stories they have to tell.  And share them!  On the forums or via email!  I'll post the most awesome (er... deviant).

Busy week... busy, busy, busy.  We received a notice telling us that Lucasfilm was looking for extras around town for this new movie about African American World War II era pilots, Tuskegee Airmen, particularly young men with convincing American accents (no previous acting experience necessary).  I don't know how conveenzing may aktzent iz, but I try anyvay.  I showed up to the casting agency, got some photos taken and bullshat with the supervisor a bit...

"So... I figure since you want guys with American accents, these are speaking parts?"
"Yeah, you'll have to come in next week to do line readings as the second phase of the audition."
"Oooohhh, neat... hey, if I'm selected, could I play a racist--"
"Everyone was racist back then..."
"No I mean like a racist who overcomes his racism by bonding with the black pilots."
"Ohhh, you want a character with an arc?"
"Yeah, I wanna deliver a line like, 'Ah'd nevah thought ah'd evah faight sahd bah sahd with a coon befoh, buht ya'll shoot down nasees like the best of us.  Fah as ahm concuhned, ya'll welcome foh dinnah at mah home any day--hope ya'll like chitlins, mah wife makes the best in all the county."
"I'll... uh... see what I can do."

I'm optimistic!  I'd really like to be able to tell my friends, "Hey, go check out Tuskegee Airmen; hour in, reformed douchebag racist?  Me."  No one gets the tang quite like reformed douchebag racists.

A little while after that casting call, I went to this small gallery opening--housed in the same warehouse as the magazine I'm currently interning at--where I gorged on hard tea, wine, and corn puffs.  Alcohol is a wonderful oral lubricant... not in the throat fucking sense, but in the spouting crazy bullshit sense.  Not that my mouth could get any looser... if it were a vag, my yeast infections would fall out as cylindrical bricks.  Like cranberry sauce from the can, with the little ridges and everything. 

As if I needed any more booze, our boss invites me and my roommate (who's also working at the mag) to a local pub for a beer.  And a second.  And a third.  An alcoholic epilogue to the wine and grog that had already run its violent course through my bladder.

"Do you want another beer?  On me."
"Well if it's on you... fuck yeah I want another beer."

Pretty soon I was fucking trashed.  This thin twig of a guy walks up to our table--thick framed glasses, wind tunnel hair; the standard Brooklyn hipster aesthetic--and exchanges a few Czech words with our boss.

"This is Mark Ther," he explains.
"Who?" I ask.
"He's Central Europe's most important video artist."
"What... uh... kinds of videos?"
"Some of the most deviant stuff you'll ever see," he laughs.

The entire time Mark is standing there, smiling and nodding with a very standard sort of foreigner vacuity.  I know, I know, I'm the foreigner and this is his country, but that corner of the table had become de facto American territory.  We were citizen-diplomats and that was our fucking embassy.

"He's a god," my boss continues, "People stand in line to suck his cock."
"I don't wanna suck his cock," I reply.
""It may be a once in a lifetime opportunity..."
"Mark, man," I turn to him, "I'm not sucking your cock."
"I don't want you to suck my cock," he replies in perfect English.
I turn back to my boss, "He doesn't want me to suck his cock."
"No one asked you to suck his cock."
"Well you didn't ask me outright, but you implied that it'd behoove me to suck it..."
"I think we've all had too much to drink, lets not talk about sucking his cock anymore."

And so ended that discussion.  It was my first exchange with Mark and I'd already concluded that he was a pretty agreeable fellow.  Here are some of his videos:

Then, on Friday morning I, along with a bus full of classmates, headed down to Southern Moravia for a short tour of Bruno and Fašank festivities in two little villages.  Fašank is the Czech equivalent of Mardi Gras, only young women don't flash their tits (or didn't at me... though they hardly ever seem to...) and a whole lot of people dress up in traditional Moravian attire.  Many other people just dress up however the fuck they please and they march, parade style, from house to house where local residents dispense home made plum brandy and assorted snacks. 

These are the costumed locals; friendly as hell, liberal with the booze, and just a little bit crazy.

Bondage Bear stole that guy's saxophone and proceeded to rock the fuck out.  Bondage Bear was the man and my best friend for the day.

Bondage Bear liked it when Beast Master used the choke chain.  Nothing could compare to the exhilaration of reaching sexual climax and the brink of death simultaneously, said the bear.

"Isn't that how Sid Vicious died?"

"No," replied the bear, "You are mistaken."

"Oh."

Everyone in town was extremely friendly.  You usually assume people hate Americans walking around, photographing everything, but not only did they embrace it, the local women found us rather exotic in a very sexy way.  These two fine ladies, stunning specimens of voluptuous femininity, gave me their numbers and invited me back to their place any time.  The things they whispered in my ear would make a sailor blush... my face didn't get too red though since all my blood was rushing straight to my boner.

Empty shot glasses are my foot prints.

"Give me the whole fucking tray."

It's nice to know that in some parts of the world, women and children still know their place.

We left this tiny village and headed over to a larger one.  The larger one was nowhere near as cool.  No free booze, no free food.  Though I did buy some cookies and a wooden alligator that I didn't bother photographing (but maybe will eventually).  It's on wheels and when you roll it its mouth opens and closes.  Pretty fucking sweet, but can't quite fill the free booze void. 

Next weekend I'll be going to Amsterdam and I won't be back until Monday morning.  So either expect a really empty update on Thursday or a really late update on Monday.

--End Transmission--

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