11,000 FOLLOWERS FUCK YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

America I want to thank you for giving a retired drug dealer and master of mistakes a voice. I can’t thank you enough for the 2,900 wonderful comments, over 80,000 views, countless reblogs, sexting and urging me to write my book. Its been a long first year, over 100 posts and now 11,000 disciples. I can’t say how grateful I am so I will show you. I always believed actions were louder then words anyway. My book PLAYING YOUR HAND RIGHT: SHOWING AMERICA HOW TO LIVE is about life, love, sex, crime, and when she breaks your nose during sex. I wanted to make America laugh and maybe class the world up a notch.
During this year I have gotten countless questions on how I got so many disciples. To say thanks for following and buying books I’m going to give you my opinion on how to blog. FOR FREE. Although I wouldn’t mind if you bought a copy of my book.   http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385767769&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right

Layout
My blog is clean and neat. No widgits, gidgits, gadgits, esoteric nonsense or the other techno babble I will never understand. When I was at art school I had a great professor who really got into the psychology of web design and I listened close. First always use a white or subtle yellow as background it is the easiest on the readers eyes. No moving images, white font on black or the other A.D.D. options, they make the text hard to read and tire the readers eyes faster making them unable to read more then twenty min. I want people to come to my blog and read my writing not check the weather it’s distracting to the reader. K.I.S.S. Keep It Simple Stupid is my message on layout. Get rid of all the background and extra crap. We are bloggers not web designers. But we can learn a thing or two from them.

Tags and Categories
This is one of the most unused easy things to do for us bloggers. An old web design trick is make the spiders work for you. We call spiders the search engine programs and they are designed to find key words your searching for. Using the Tags and categories is an easy way to get more traffic. Will this get you 11,000 followers? No but it will get you two more every day and if your a good writer those two will tell two and is spreads. First and for most add “sex” to your tags and categories. Sex is the most searched for term in the internet and word press will even make you laugh by telling you what funny dirty thing people search for. Here is what my site brought in today “tight hand and sex, lighting farts on fire, sxe amerka, sex live in america” Makes me giggle every day what it says. So with sex find 20 other categories your writing falls under and post in them. I have a list I just copy and paste into the tags section no matter what I have written about. Well, lets face it, most of my writing is about sex, drugs, boats and crime anyway. If you cant think of any here is my list to get you started you just copy and paste into the tag section (Antares 44 I, blog award, boats, Busted, cancer, car accident, car break down, Cars, change, children, Cocaine, college, Cops, crime, Dad, Death, Drinking, Drug Dealing, Family, Father, funny, growing up, hash, humor, inspiring, journey, Life, Playing Your Hand Right, quest, robbers, robbery, Sailing, Sex, sex toys, strip clubs, Suicide, Survival, SWAT, Taylor Oceans, Uncategorized, Valentines Day, Weed) These tags are vital when your starting out but now I rarely use categories anymore although I should. So no more posting in only uncategorized America, noob mistake make the spiders work for you. I hate the bastards and they scare the crap out of me but in the digital world spiders are my friends.

Haters
Yes America the world is full of haters the key is to ignore them. Do not fight back they are not worth your time, will never change, and all your doing is dropping to their level. I know that sounds like something you tell a four year old but this is a digital world. If someone said this shit to my face I would have them knee capped while I stand over them laughing, smoking and drinking rum. Since you can’t beat their ass just trash the comments. I receive about one a month. Some person who has spent there entire life is the suburbs and believe they know everything without any real word experience. I get the drug dealers are trash, kid killers, and poster children for abortion once a month. I’m sure I attract more then your average blogger given the controversial topics and my background, but simply put. You will never make everyone happy and like you so give up now, be yourself. Raise your rum and say :To all those who wish us well cheers. To all the rest may you burn in hell.” Just accept that some people will not like your writing and would love to make you quit. Now let me tell you a tale. After the first two months of my blogging I got a hater. He commented on every post and trashed me. He told people not to follow me, and plenty of other garbage. I posted his comments with my rebuttal. I then made the mistake of not checking on my blog for three days. In that three days I had trashed all the work I had done. It took me 2 months to get my first 200 followers and I went back to 50 in three days. America did not like my rebuttal. I deleted it, his comments and basically started from scratch again. That was the first wall I had to put my head through to keep this blog going and it will not be the last. Don’t waste your time with the haters and trolls, just delete, ignore, have a cig, rum and coke, and maybe some good hard fucking. Write more the next day. Sometimes you have to go away to come back.  We are here to write not, argue with America.

Content
Far be it from me to tell you what to write. You want to write about scifi, cars, politics, what ever go for it, but give the people what they want. What they want in those categories I have no idea I write about crime and fucking. I write about me unpolished and you guys clearly eat up the shit where I hold nothing back, and tell it like it really happened. Many times I want to keep some of myself or my failures out of my writing and portray myself as Don Won on Viagra. However when I get the rum in me and tell it how it is you guys love it. I hold nothing back and expect nothing in return. But I wouldn’t mind if you bought my book.

So that is my quick class on blog success. Keep your format simple, use spiders, be yourself and ignore the haters. Don’t like it kiss my ass its free. But I’m here to show you how to live and I figured I might show some of you a trick or two about blogging.  We all need a little help from time to time.

Accidentally on Purpose
The last secret to my success was this post. Accidentally on Purpose was a post I wrote that went viral hitting 965 views in one day. Now you can use all the tricks of the trade. My B.S. and all the other crap they are trying to sell you on the internet on how to blog right. But what it comes down to is turning heads. I have never done anything by following the rules and I’m not about to start now. Grammar, social norms, and doubters can suck it, I live, fuck and write my way. Find out what the people want out of your writing and give it to them. Do they want to feel secure, enlightened, ashamed, passionate or informed? Give the people what they want and they will stay, read, and follow. The categories, tags, format, and other shit only get them to walk in. You writing must make them stay.

Now for your reading pleasure here is accidently on purpose the post that America made me write a book after reading.

ACCIDENTALLY ON PURPOSE
So one night, I invited a fuck buddy to come by for a night of kinky adulterism. I thought I was cool with all forms of sex till I met this chick. First she tried to finger my ass while blowing me. Not cool ladies. I felt a finger go from fondling balls to my no-no spot. After I removed my fingernails from the ceiling and climbed down, she explained to me that she had banged every guy she had been with. And I don’t mean bang in the good way. I told her not this horse. Line one found.
During another night of sexual shenanigans, she asked me to cut her with a dinner knife. Well, as well as she could ask through a ball gag while she was tied up in the entryway. I thought that would look great; the cops come in, see me with a dinner knife, woman tied up, death by thousand cuts, and boom: head shot. Thoughts of me being gunned down wearing nothing but a condom and holding a magic wand in one hand and a knife in the other was not exactly my kind of night. Also, the sight of blood makes me lightheaded and completely de-rected. Line two discovered.
During one night of sexcapades, I couldn’t recall which; we were having some drinks before the roll playing began. She would come in, bringing her bag of whatever hotness she would wear that night. We would catch up, have a few drinks, she would go change in the bedroom, I would set up that night’s fun, and it was on. Well, during one of these drinking and catching up chats we had a little bit more than usual to drink. I have a bar in my apartment and I was behind it pouring champagne far too fast. We were talking, joking, having a good time, let’s face it ladies, I’m charming. I go to my fridge, get the third bottle of champagne, pull off the foil, wire, aim and fire.
Being the son of a chef and restaurant owner, I am normally one with the cork, but I try to refrain from firing one off in my apartment. You see, I’m a half-assed Buddhist and have a nice Buddha shrine in my living room. Buddha is cool with everything except being shot in the face with a cork and shattered on the floor. I call myself a half-assed Buddhist because I love Karma, but I treat my body like an amusement park not a temple; hence half-assed.
So, there I am in my kitchen, hotness at the bar, with a bottle in my hand and off goes the cork. Trying to impress her, I figure I will shoot the cork down my apartment and pour her a glass. In my haste, I didn’t aim properly and the cork hits the wall across the room. I have both my hands on the bottle when I realize the cork has ricochet off the wall and is coming straight for my eye at the speed of sound. I wondered what the trip to the hospital would be like. Yes, Doctor, I shot myself, but in my emotional throws, my suicide was foiled because instead of a gun I used a bottle of bubbly. How many times have I laughed at the warning labels on champagne bottles and the funny pictures of cartoons hitting themselves with a cork? Is it possible to have sex with a cork in my eye? I figured she would be a little turned off.
There I was, the “Master” trying to pour a glass of champagne for the “Slave” and the dip shit “Master” is going to blind himself with a cork. Premature corkulation. Why couldn’t my parents have said, “Be careful with the bottle of champagne, you’ll shoot your eye out?” I was great with the BB gun. The cork is getting closer to my face and now she is realizing I’m about to be Kennedy-ed. Forget the magic bullet, look at this fucking cork. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her cover her mouth getting ready to laugh, scream, sympathize, however this turns out.
Suddenly, I realize time has stopped. I look at my dog and a drop of drool is floating in the air below him frozen in time. A hummingbird is flying outside the window and its wings are still.
All these thoughts and sights overwhelmed me, yet I couldn’t react to the damn cork about to head shot me. Frozen in time, unable to move, I awaited my inevitable corky fate. Time began again and the cork closed in on its target. I braced for the impact of my masochistic bottle opening, when out of the corner of my eye I see a hand. Moving faster than a fat kid running down an ice cream truck, this hand rises to protect my face. I realize it’s my hand moving and I’m drunker than I thought. I have somehow caught the cork.
Staring at my hand, like a kid who just caught his first fly ball, completely amazed by my subconscious drunken reflexes, I turn to her. She is sitting on the bar stool staring at me as if I have just cured cancer, while climbing Everest to save her from the abominable snowman. Wet. She couldn’t believe it. Had I done this on purpose or accident, she thought to herself. Is my “Master” really this good? Not sure what to do, I came to a sudden conclusion. I handed her the cork with all my misplaced bravado and simply said. “You like my new trick?” And it was on.

I still try to catch the cork when no one is around…
I’m never even close.

As always if you like that take a peak at my book Playing Your Hand Right: Showing America How to Live and read what America has said about it.  http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385767769&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right

Long Live the Writers

Taylor Oceans

THANKS AMERICA

America I want to say thanks.  I started this blog a year ago for God knows why.  Maybe just to be heard.  To see if America would listen to a retired drug dealer and master of mistakes.  A year later I have 10,900 followers, and with the pushing of America I wrote my first book of my tales.  You have given me a 4.7 out of 5 rating on Amazon.com and over 2,000 wonderful comments on my blog.  I just want to say thanks for listening to my tales America and buying my book.  Us self published drunken rantists need all the help we can get.  So thank you America, and feel free to keep the emails, comments, FB chats, and all the other techno crap coming.  I’m here to help, entertain, teach, and show America how to live.  My email is playingyourhandright@gmail.com

Follows is an email I received this weekend.  Thanks for buying my book PLAYING YOUR HAND RIGHT: SHOWING AMERICA HOW TO LIVE  and giving hope to someone with nothing in his hand.  But sometimes nothing can be a pretty cool hand. 

If you want to take a chance on my book a link to Amazon follows

http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385767769&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right

 

Long Live the Writers

Taylor Oceans

And Remember…  It’s nice to be important but more important to be nice.  

 

A PIECE OF SLATE

America we have no idea what the road holds for us. I’ve been up, down, rich, poor, together and alone. And what have I learned? It’s about the journey not the destination. You can’t fight change. You not getting any younger and your days are numbered. We want to think our lives will be perfectly linear from birth to death devoid of problems. I’m going to work this job, raise my kids, retire, get old and die. Or at least most of us. But I’m different America. I think every day is precious. You never know when that drive by is going to get you. That drunk driver is going to smash you. The doctor gives you the bad news. Or a piece of slate falls off a roof and kills you. When I was in High school I was walking to the library and a piece of slate falls off the roof plummeting four stories and smashes it’s ten pound razor sharp ass right next to me. I mean inches from my head America. I realized then we have a lot less control then we think over our fate. I saved a piece of that slate tile to remind me to live every day to the full. To live my dreams with no regrets and always say why not instead of why. Don’t be so busy making a living you forget to make a life America. Some day that piece of slate is going to hit you. And all that will be left… Our tales.

Long Live the Writers

Oceans

WHEN STONERS FLY

America rewind my life tape back ten years to senior year of High School.  I’m 18 and the Activities Vice President of my school.  I decided to run for student body VP while at dinner with my Dad.  Being sent to boarding school it wasn’t uncommon for parents to be sympathetic and take you out to dinner to save you from the terrible food of dorm every now and then.  We were having a very nice penne chicken Alfredo with salted garlic ham cubes.  I still use the recipe try it.  We were cowing of this dank pasta and I sit up and say I think I’m going to run for VP.  Supportive as always Dad replies “Sure you can, when is the election.”  A quick glimpse at my none existence watch and I say “O about sixteen hours.”  Dad chuckles knowing the procrastinator in me all to well and says “Well I guess you can try, but don’t get your hopes up.”

The next day I break into the school office and print off four color copies of my election banner.  “If you want parties like this vote Taylor Oceans for Activities VP”  with a picture of a rave under it.  I moved them around campus, had them pencil my name onto the voting cards, and I never even got to give a speech.  Won it by three votes, losing in the first counting, fuck yeah!  Which gets us closer to the plane.

Now as Activities VP you plan the prom and all other “mixers” (being a mostly guy boarding school they shipped in women from our all girls sister school once a week so we don’t turn gay)  and as the drama tech guy I knew how to work all the lights and wire just about anything.  Hey, at boarding school you have to do a winter sport.  Wresting, the sport of ear pads, rashes and tights… Hell No.  Basketball, yeah kiss my ass I’m short and blew my knee in soccer two years prior.  And drama, the only sport the girls could do in the winter aside from girls basketball.  Dear diary jackpot.  If my lighting booth could talk.  Any who, as VP, I wanted to have an illegal rave on campus, have 100 girls shipped in, no chaperons, and my high school, boarding school, blue balls in the middle of it.  I did, even built me and friends a VIP section.  First politician in history to keep his word.  I would have been thrown out of school, but I bet they couldn’t because then it would be public that a student conned them into not only catering his illegal rave, but endangered the sister school.  My school would have never been able to have a mixer again.  It worked, with a few other extortions and creative language.

This brings us to the plane.  During the preparation phase of the rave I got off campus to go pick up the six foot black lights for the rave.  Go hard or go home America ever seen what 14 six foot black lights can do?  While driving back to campus me and my partner in crime pass an air field and I blurt out I want to fly a plane.  “He says want to I’m a pilot?”  As always “Do pigs lie in shit?” is mine  Using his pilots licence, the rest of the money I embezzled from the school, a huge insurance policy and the lax regulations of this back country airfield, yes we rented a P.O.S. Cessna (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cessna_172).  While fueling the plane I notice the tricycle landing gear is so light it moves when kicked, my go cart had bigger tires, the doors are so thin I bet I could fuck a hole in it,  the walls are made of the same material holding our beer that weekend, and the interior looks like something they thought was ugly in 1970.  A flying, tacky, death trap to put nicely, but I figure who wants to die in bed.  During take off the piece of crap sounded like it was going to fall apart and I really regretted getting my partner in crime, now my pilot high with me.  Suddenly we are airborne like a fat metal turkey.  The view was amazing and we decided to tour the county.  We flew over campus, the highway, and when we got over the river my buddy says ok find something to put in your hand like a pen.  I find a screw driver and say now what?  He says “I’m going to dive the plane and when I say now spin the screwdriver in the air it will float.”  Not sure how to spell the sound of a plane going down but that sound zooooooom.  The plane is diving, I’m screaming profanities and he shouts spin it.  Such mind shattering awesomeness!  Weightlessness! The fear is gone, the sounds, the doubts, the emotions, my entire life has vanished from my mind.  All I can focus on is a screwdriver floating in front of me.  Suck it apple guy, gravity is my play thing today bitch.  Transfixed by the daunting defiance of gravity our stoned asses fail to realize we are plummeting to the river from 5,000 feet at about 200 miles an hour.  Simultaneously we both look past the screwdriver and see the river about to screw me and my driver.  Profanities, as we both grab the sticks and pull back as we are eye level with sail boats.  Twenty feet.  That is what we got to.  20 god damn feet off the river as low as sail boat masts.

Our buzz fully gone, and pants properly soiled, we decide to return to the safety of the ground.  He tried to teach me how to land but with no head wind he needed to take it in.  Love those single runway airstrips.  He had to crab the plane to slow us down for landing.  This is basically Tokyo drift in a fucking beer can with a tricycle under it.  50 feet off the runway im looking at the runway through the side window, and just before touch down he turned the plane straight and nailed the landing.  And that’s what happens when stoners fly.

Long Live the Writers

Taylor Oceans

Another review of my book. Now get out your wallets and buy a copy.

Taylor is a classic American hero for the millennial generation — a rebel, an outlaw, a self made man, a Gentleman. His rambling collection of hilarious anecdotes interwoven with thoughtful yet tongue-in-cheek dimestore philosophy has a striking poignance to it, the sweep of an epic. This book is funny as hell and I was laughing out loud, but it also made me think (at times). There are some utterly brilliant lines here, on sex, drugs, rock and roll, and the like, real gems of insight.
This book was a charmer and I can’t wait for the movie version. I hope Taylor plays himself so I can get a look at that lady killer.

 

Written by Pua Nani check out here erotica and nice legs at http://eroticapoetica.wordpress.com/.  Thanks for the review cute thang and taking a chance on my book Playing Your Hand Right: Showing America How to Live available on Amazon.  4.6 out of 5 rating.  Available here  http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385767769&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right  Tell Your Friends.

 

I know I’m a long shot but sometimes long shots pay off big.  Try some indie tales.

Long Live the Writers

 

Taylor Oceans

FIRESIDE CHAT

Be sure to pop in tomorrow to https://www.facebook.com/momlovestoread?ref=ts&fref=ts for my first fireside chat.  Saturday from 6 to 8 est.  Will give all there a sneak peek at a bonus chapter from the book, spread some good music, maybe tell you guys about the time I went to mars on mushrooms, whatever comes up and whatever you ask.  Also this is to raise books for the organization Books for Troops created by ebony who is hosting my FB take over.  Hate the government, support the troops, and donate your old books for them to read at Books for Troops.  Link Follows.  https://www.facebook.com/groups/booksfortroops/

Image

ONE FUCKING YEAR BITCHES

One year in the bag America it’s our Anniversary, ladies get in line hotties with bodies get first dibs.  One year of my tales, stupidity, sex, crime, more sex, and then my stupidity during sex followed by drunken typos.  What? I’m only giving you rough drafts on this blog and holding the good tales back for the book.  You know you wouldn’t buy books if I didn’t and thanks for buying.  Holy shit first year done, one book written rated 4.7 out of 5 on amazon thanks America, 10,433 disciples, 2742 total comments, 110 posts, 1,002 comments on my life, 76,625 total views, and the top day 965 caused by my post Accidentally on Purpose going blog viral.  As a thanks here is Accidentally on Purpose for you new guys.  When the book came out four months ago I cut off the ending and made it a teaser for my book.  What Gentleman need money to.  Ladies are expensive and worth every penny.  Also the other most popular post Sex life of America for your reading pleasure.  This was just an over sexed rant I went on one day when America yet again made me want to Jihad FOX news (Secret Service this is a sarcastic comment and I would never blow up those no talent, scare tactic, sex deprived, ass clowns on Fox news).  Seriously America get your head out of your asses and fuck the world.  Sexually and in a sense of accomplishing your dreams.  Grab the world’s hair, slap its ass and show it…The Gentleman has arrived.  There is a Gentleman in all of us.  Thanks for making it one hell of a year America.  Wear a Condom.

42. ACCIDENTALLY ON PURPOSE
So one night, I had invited a fuck buddy to come by for a night of kinky adulterism. I thought I was cool with all forms of sex till I met this chick. First she tried to finger my ass while blowing me. Not cool ladies. I felt a finger go from fondling balls to my no-no spot. After I removed my fingernails from the ceiling and climbed down, she explained to me that she had banged every guy she had been with. And I don’t mean bang in the good way. I told her not this horse. Line one found.
During another night of sexual shenanigans, she asked me to cut her with a dinner knife. Well, as well as she could ask through a ball gag while she was tied up in the entryway. I thought that would look great; the cops come in, see me with a dinner knife, woman tied up, death by thousand cuts, and boom: head shot. Thoughts of me being gunned down wearing nothing but a condom and holding a magic wand, not to mention the sight of blood makes me light headed and completely de-rected. Line two discovered.
During one night of sexcapades, I couldn’t recall which; we were having some drinks before the roll playing began. She would come in, bringing her bag of whatever hotness she would wear that night, we would catch up, have a few drinks, she would go change in the bedroom, I would set up that night’s fun, and it was on. Well, during one of these drinking and catching up chats we had a little bit more than usual to drink. I have a bar in my apartment and I was behind it pouring champagne far too fast. We were talking, joking, having a good time, let’s face it ladies, I’m charming. I go to my fridge, get the third bottle of champagne, pull off the foil, wire, aim and fire.
Being the son of a chef and restaurant owner, I am normally one with the cork, but I try to refrain from firing one off in my apartment. You see, I’m a half-assed Buddhist and have a nice Buddha shrine in my living room. Buddha is cool with everything except being shot in the face with a cork and shattered on the floor. I call myself a half-assed Buddhist because I love Karma, but I treat my body like an amusement park not a temple; hence half-assed.
So, there I am in my kitchen, hotness at the bar, with a bottle in my hand and off goes the cork. Trying to impress her, I figure I will shoot the cork down my apartment and pour her a glass. In my haste, I didn’t aim properly and the cork hits the wall across the room. I have both my hands on the bottle when I realize that the cork has ricochet off the wall and is coming straight for my eye at the speed of sound. I wondered what the trip to the hospital would be like. Yes, Doctor, I shot myself, but in my emotional throws, my suicide was foiled because instead of a gun I used a bottle of bubbly. How many times have I laughed at the warning labels on champagne bottles and the funny pictures of cartoons hitting themselves with a cork? Is it possible to have sex with a cork in my eye? I figured she would be a little turned off.
There I was, the “Master” trying to pour a glass of champagne for the “Slave” and the dip shit “Master” is going to blind himself with a cork. Premature corkulation. Why couldn’t my parents have said, “Be careful with the bottle of champagne, you’ll shoot your eye out?” I was great with the BB gun. The cork is getting closer to my face and now she is realizing that I’m about to be Kennidied. Forget the magic bullet, look at this fucking cork. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her cover her mouth getting ready to laugh, scream, sympathize, however this turns out.
Suddenly, I realize that time has stopped. I look at my dog and notice a drop of drool floating in the air below him frozen in time. A humming bird was flying outside the window and its wings were still. All these thoughts and sights overwhelmed me, yet I couldn’t react to the damn cork about to head shot me. Frozen in time, unable to move, I awaited my inevitable corky fate. Time began again and the cork closed in on its target. I braced for the impact of my masochistic bottle opening, when out of the corner of my eye I see a hand. Moving faster than a fat kid running down an ice cream truck, this hand rises to protect my face. I realize it’s my hand moving and I’m drunker than I thought. I have somehow caught the cork. Staring at my hand, like a kid who just caught his first fly ball, completely amazed by my subconscious drunken reflexes, I turn to her. She is sitting on the bar stool staring at me as if I have just cured cancer, while climbing Everest to save her from the abominable snowman. Wet. She couldn’t believe it. Had I done this on purpose or accident, she thought to herself. Is my “Master” really this good? Not sure what to do, I came to a conclusion. I handed her the cork with all my misplaced bravado and simply said. “You like my new trick?” And it was on.
I still try to catch the cork again when no one is around… I’m never even close.

SEX LIFE OF AMERICA

Well America you have done it again.  You have made me sad to be an American.  Am I the last person in this country who honestly enjoys sex?  I don’t bang for my relationships.  I don’t bang because its been a week and we need to once a week.  I don’t bang because its my birthday and she is letting me get some.  I bang because I fucking love it.  When ever I can where ever.  Three, five, seven times a day if we both have the day off.  I love the feel, the sweat, the screams, the look in her eyes when she says thank you after every cum, the sound of the hand cuffs clattering, all that great shit.  I fucking love fucking.  Seriously, aside from sailing which can and should be done during sex, what the hell else would you rather do?  Nothing.  Really I never have and never will get it.  I’d be banging right now but my buddy is out of town.

Sex is the most fun you can have without laughing and you know what good sex involves laughing once in a while.  When she cums so hard she head butts you and breaks your nose.  Laugh.  When your banging her in the sex swing and the lube you spilled on the floor makes you slip and fall on your ass wearing only a condom and shameful grin.  Laugh.  When your both lying next to each other covered in sweat, consumed by the wonderful tingling feeling you get after great sex.  Laugh.  Sex is fun and you will make mistakes so laugh at yourself and get back in there if you know what I mean.  You will pull off the condom to fast with a couple pubs.  You will have to stop because the lube bottle slipped out of your hands and rolls under the bed.  You will break furniture of all kinds.  You will be caught.  Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.  You know what you do laugh and bang some more.  No shame I have done all these countless times and told all 6,500 of you.  Read my stories.  The broken nose was a bitch.  Its still a little crooked.

When did sex become such a taboo topic America?  We all were born with equipment for it, we all know it feels really really really really really really fucking good, and shit America its a great workout and many of you could use one.  So put on a condom grab the woman next to you (go gay guys to I guess) and bang her/him where ever you are reading this.  In the living room?  Bang.  Bedroom?  Bang.  If she is in the kitchen cooking get in there turn off the stove and bend her over the counter.  On a plane?  Get that mile high club.  But stop planning, scheduling, accounting, rationalizing, registering and calculating sex.  We are all eating, shitting, fucking animals.  And anyone who says they aren’t is a eunuch.

So why have I gone on this rant today well here is “Breaking News” on CNN.  All the shit going on in the world Americans want to hear about a couple who had sex every day for a year.  This is pathetic.  I have done this by accident for at least three years of my now 28 (birthday a week ago :( I’m old) life.  What do people do in college?  Study?  Any way here it is

http://www.cnn.com/video/data/2.0/video/showbiz/2013/09/05/sbt-couple-sex-year.hln.html

Now get out there and please your woman America.  Bang the crap out of her.  Give God a high five and bring down some wrath on the fine asses he made.  Wear condoms.

Well America its been a wonderful year.  Thanks for reading, commenting, helping me make my first FB page, (all of you are way to dependent on technology the world got along just fine without a computer chip up your ass.  All of my tales occurred without the aid of FB, now ignore the hypocrisy of that comment since I’m a good little FB whore now to move books… Be sure to check out my fireside chat on FB on Saturday at 6 est https://playingyourhandright.wordpress.com/2014/02/03/fireside-chat/ I’m a dirty Gentleman FB whore) buying my first book Playing Your Hand Right: Showing America How To Live, and giving me hope that this mad dash to become a writer before completely bankrupting myself might just work.

Long Live the Writers who buy my book. Link below. Kindle and paper back copies available

Taylor Oceans

http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1391549558&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right+showing+america+how+to+live

10,000 Disciples

Holy shit America 10,000 Disciples, 73,816 views, 2572 comments, 965 best ever views in a day, and a 4.7 out of 5 rating for my book on amazon.com .  Not to bad for a guy who has made every mistake possible.  Thanks for reading, buying books, and supporting indie authors.  If you have not tried my book Playing Your Hand Right: Showing America How to Live yet give it a go.  Available on Amazon.com.  Here is the link.  http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385767769&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right

 My book will make you laugh, cry and teach you a thing or two.  But don’t trust me check out what they are saying on amazon.com I love this shit.  Kindle copy available and Barns and Noble nook thing coming soon.

4.0 out of 5 stars Hilarious, January 8, 2014
 
I got this through CreateSpace and it’s effing hilarious. Hopefully this book does well enough through indie publishing that he can get picked up by a traditional publisher, because it’s a funny book and I see no reason why — with the marketing and editorial resources of a traditional publishing company — and it couldn’t reach a wider audience.
Help other customers find the most helpful reviews 
 
5.0 out of 5 stars A 5-Star Read!!!, January 2, 2014
I LOVED this book!!! I discovered the book when it was donated to project that I run. This is the most REAL book that I have ever read. Taylor Oceans has lived one hell of a crazy life and has an amazing way of retelling it to his readers. This book had me on the floor in hysterical tears. It also left me with some very valuable life lessons. I would absolutely recommend this book to anyone, especially young people!!! I want to also send a huge THANK YOU for sharing your story with the world to Taylor Oceans.
Help other customers find the most helpful reviews 
 
5.0 out of 5 stars Well played, December 18, 2013
 
Amazon Verified Purchase(What’s this?)
As a follower of Ocean’s blog, I couldn’t wait for this book. It has become one of my beliefs that we should be as candid and open as possible and he’s done just that. Excellent stories and I never got bored reading it. I will say though that I’m not a fan of the last paragraph. You’re at a point where most people barely figure out that there is a life to be lived. You’ve kicked ass, taken names but what kind of stories do you think people want to hear about your next 27 years? Think twice about living that ‘family man’ life… Keep life amazing man!
 
4.0 out of 5 stars Everyone Loves A Bad Boy, December 18, 2013
 
This review is from: Playing Your Hand Right : Showing America How to Live: Anyone who can’t admit a mistake hasn’t learned from it yet. (Paperback)
Secretly, we want what they have and we want to be able to do what they do. And this boy can get as bad as we can imagine. He does it with gusto and a sense of pride in ownership. He owns what he does and it makes him great! It makes us envious.

Where are our guts? Hidden deep within our limitations. Taylor exposes his inner self with no holds barred. Sexually, he sounds like Don Juan run wild. Who wouldn’t want to be in his shoes? Some of his statements make me feel like I’ve never even had sex, and I’m old and should have tried at least a few of his suggestions by now. Physically he is small, but there’s a Goliath beneath the tiny frame, and David would do well to run from this giant. He doesn’t give up and he doesn’t give in.

When can I have a drink with him? I want to hear and learn more.

Robert

 
5.0 out of 5 stars Amazing, November 17, 2013
Amazon Verified Purchase(What’s this?)
Absolutely loved this book. The tales were humorous yet so real. He has such an interesting outlook on life. Great writer, hope to see more.
 
5.0 out of 5 stars Play it again Taylor, October 18, 2013
 
This review is from: Playing Your Hand Right : Showing America How to Live: Anyone who can’t admit a mistake hasn’t learned from it yet. (Paperback)
Taylor takes you with him on his adventures. His style of writing brings humor to the most simple of takes. Beer pong and dealers, sex toys and Mitzvahs, fires and and log rolling…oh my!

You’ll read about the boy turning to a gentleman. The kid turning to an adult. The Nieve turning experienced and all in 200 pages. This book is a compilation of stories that will grab your attention and make you take notice.

It’s not for the faint of heart and requires all who venture forth to strap in and keep your hands inside the car. Once the ride is moving there’s no turning back. 

There is something in this book for everyone. The war with his friends. The fire that takes his eyebrows, the Valentines day special. For every vice a fix and every itch finds a scratch. From glass pipes to glass dil*** and glasses of scotch. College buddies and drug buddies and f*** buddies alike…Taylor proves life is there for the taking, you just grab hold and enjoy!

 
So give my book a try and see how to play your hand right.  Link Below.
 
 
Long Live the Writers
 
Oceans
 

I’d be full of shit if I said I didn’t love comments like this now buy my book America

By Ebony Arrington-McMillan on January 2, 2014

Format: Kindle Edition

I LOVED this book!!! I discovered the book when it was donated to project that I run. This is the most REAL book that I have ever read. Taylor Oceans has lived one hell of a crazy life and has an amazing way of retelling it to his readers. This book had me on the floor in hysterical tears. It also left me with some very valuable life lessons. I would absolutely recommend this book to anyone, especially young people!!! I want to also send a huge THANK YOU for sharing your story with the world to Taylor Oceans.

Thank you Ebony for the wonderful comment.  After two years of writing, doubting, listening to the doubters, and betting everything financially on myself, the long shot. I will admit to a few moments of weakness.  But I like to say bash your head against the wall till it comes down or something useful comes out of your head.  I think I just might have pulled it off.  Bet on yourself America who the hell else will.  And if you feel like trying something new try me and my tales Playing Your Hand Right: Showing America How to Live for a good laugh and life lesson.  Published only three months ago and available on Amazon.com.  Be the first of your friends to discover my tales. Thanks for reading.

Long Live the Writers

Oceans

P.S.  The organization was Books for troops (link below) send them your old books to be forwarded to our troops.  Support our troops, Hate the Government.

https://www.facebook.com/BooksForTroops2013

P.S.S. or something? If your read the post about my date stuck on the side of the road and no one helped she finally made it down for new years in her moms car because hers is fucked.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQlIhraqL7o and it was really good

Buy My Book People are loving this shit

Alright America 30 books sold and not a bad review yet and 4.8 rating on Amazon.  Now there are almost 10,000 of you out there so go to Amazon.com and buy my book  Playing Your Hand Right: Showing America How To Live.  My book will make you laugh, like a son of a bitch yet it does have a serious theme of life, love and the pursuit of happiness America style.  My New years resolution is to sell 1,000 copies next year at least.  That would mean you guys would help me raise 1,000 dollars to help me advertise.  I have bought 50 books so far and I’m sending them out to newspapers, publishers, book stores, agents, radio and T.V. Stations.  And at this point I have bought more books then you America.  I’m all alone on this America, but if you read my writing you know that only makes me go harder.  I will get on the New York times best seller list just a matter of when and I need your help to do it America.  You need to click on the link below and buy the digital copy of my book for only 3 bucks or the paper back for 10 bucks.  When you discover what a gem it is you need to get one friend to buy a copy.  1,000 bucks means 125 copies of my book get mailed to the right people’s desks.  Help me play my hand right America and years from now when someone says “Have you ever heard of Taylor Oceans?”  You get to reply, “Oceans, shit I was one of his original disciples.”  Here is a comment I received on my FB page from a very nice woman who runs books for troops.  I sent a few copies of my book to our boys she read it and this is what she said.

Ok..I HAVE to give a huge shout-out to an author and friend who YOU should check out.Taylor Oceans!!! YOU HAVE TO READ HIS BOOK, Playing Your Right Hand…This book has me laughing so hard!!! And what I LOVE about it is that it is REAL…Check it out for yourself!!!

 So take a chance on me America.  I know I’m a long shot, but sometimes long shots pay off big.  Link to my book on Amazon below.

http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385767769&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right

Also Check out books for troops.  Send our boys some good reads they earned it!  Link below to the face book page.

https://www.facebook.com/groups/booksfortroops/

P.S.  Don’t forget bonus chapters only in the book.  Your only getting my rough drafts, free writes, and half the story on the blog.