ASK ROGAN

The truth is people change. I am forever changing. My body, my likes, and dislikes, my sexual fetishes, my morals, and beliefs. Life is a journey and I believe we are meant to evolve over that journey into the best possible person we can be or the happiest, hopefully, both. We are all flawed and imperfect. I know I have many imperfections and I try to acknowledge and remove them from my life. There are also people, if we are lucky, who are in your life as family or friends or lovers for a time, that change you, influence you and mold you in a positive way through their relationship with you. But even friends like family or lovers can change and turn against you and become toxic. You have to have the strength, confidence, and knowledge to understand when to let go of these people and move on.

I have talked about not engaging with haters or closed-minded people who attack you for being different or don’t agree or understand who you are or what you do. This also can be applied to X lovers. It never shocks me how someone who meant the world to you, who you were ready to marry, who you shared everything with… then… is gone, a complete stranger, even someone you now hate and distrust. I recently had the opportunity to address someone who I thought I had deleted from my life but had forgotten one platform. I wrote the text and stopped, I realized that I didn’t need to tell him anything because I knew nothing positive would come from it. It wouldn’t make him see things differently or from my perspective, if anything it would just make him angry and start a fight. I realized (with a lil help from a special pup) I just needed to get it out. To release it so it didn’t grow inside me into something infectious and hideous. So I am gonna write it here.

“I found out what you have been doing and with who. You have no Fkin limits to how cruel and selfish you act. And it’s pathetic that you turn on everyone else to attack and blame them for your actions. You can post up as many self-affirmation posts as your hypocritical fingers can make but you are a lying selfish person. I hate myself for letting you play me for years. You have made me feel like the biggest fool. Congratulations for leading me on for so long. I hope I never see your face again. If there ever was the man inside you that I fell in love with – or if that was all one big act – he died years ago. I don’t even know who you are today. And I will never let you lie to me again.”

OK, I’ll admit this is a little dramatic. I could have maybe just read it to a friend or something. But like all the major things I go through in life I share them with you not to be self-indulgent but to try and teach you something through what I have been through. I know a lot of my followers feel alone dealing with stuff like this cause they message me about it. So I don’t want them to feel alone, even if it’s through reading a blog post from a guy they follow. I also want them to know we can make decisions that will help lessen drama and pain in our lives, it’s popular culture to want to confront and attack someone, reality TV thrives of this, but sometimes just writing it in a blog post or a letter and throwing that letter in the bin is enough to help you move on, you can’t change other people only yourself.

I truly believe my cock is very intuitive, the night before getting my PA it tried to invert into a vagina, and the first morning after my piercing, my morning glory was not the usual Die Hard, “Yippee-ki-ya, Motherfucker” hardon. But this morning, the second morning, my hardon woke me up to the feeling of the piercing stretching around the metal and blood dripping down the side of my hip, luckily being caught in my man diaper…

But let’s go back to the beginning. It was Jim Ferro in this Raw Fuck Club film that made me decide I needed a Prince Albert. I had thought about it, been told numerous times from bottoms how hot I’d be with it, but it wasn’t till I saw this film and how FKIN sexy Jim looked that I realized just how FKIN KICKASS I would look like with one. A huge beast, covered from head to feet in hard brawny muscles, a thick sea of hair and ink. (need to work on the ink next…) With two huge metal rings dangling from my imposing pecs, jutting out of my hefty nipples… AND an engorged pumped veiny monster cock with a just as monstrous thick metal ring dangling from it!

Cut to several years later and the idea had become an obsession but I had to be able to afford time off work to get it done. Meaning, to not have to fuck for at least a month, maybe more, hopefully, less. This was the hard part. But at the end of 2019 after fucking like a mother fucker for the last 12 months (Like even more, however unbelievable, than how I had been since 2010 when I became a sex worker and started relentlessly destroying men’s fuck holes on film and giving clients the fuck of their lives!) saving money and making heaps of content for my website I was at a sexual position do get it done. So as soon as I returned home I called the Piercing HQ and made the first available appointment for the 8th January 2020 to get my Prince Albert. I was referred to HQ by several guys whose opinion I trusted and who’s PA’s I had seen and looked awesome.

On the day of the 8th, I drove to their building along with my boy Bruiser, who was getting his nipples done. A couple that pierces together, stays together! He went first and, as I knew it would be, it was effortless. The boy likes pain. I, on the other hand, have a phobia of anything medical, especially needles. Ironic seeming I inject them into myself multiple times a week when taking steroids or even into my cock when using Caverject or Tri/Quad Mix. But in these cases, my vanity, or mental health, whichever way you wish to look at it, outweighs my fear. This doesn’t stop me from always looking away when a nurse has to take my blood or a tattoo artist is drawing a masterpiece on my skin. It was fun to finally watch the piercer, Paulus was his name, pierce Bruiser’s nipples. It gave me a better idea of what was about to happen to my cock. He like many before said doing my cock would hurt less than when I had my nipples done. Physically they were all right. Psychologically they were all wrong.

So Paulus places a tube into the shaft of my cock and moves it down the shaft till he reaches where he’s going to make the piercing, decided by the number of veins located in my cock, my foreskin and the knowledge that a 00 gauge was the end goal. I get why he asked if I like sounding and was slightly upset when I said no. I tried sounding once and it didn’t do a thing for me. I actually hate having things shoved into the head of my cock so this was already really uncomfortable for me. I, of course, looked away before any material actually touched my skin. So it wasn’t till Paulus said, “Ok, take a big breath in.” that I knew judgment day had arrived! The actual piercing was painful but instantaneous, like a painful sting that was gone as quick as it appears. I can honestly say it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It didn’t stop me from breaking out in a sweat and momentarily passing out. Something I didn’t even know till Bruiser told me on the way home, that people were talking to me and I wasn’t responding, which I have no recollection of.

Once home the only issue was taking a piss and pissing blood everywhere. This subsided over the remaining day and by the next morning when I pissed there was no blood, it just burnt like a mother fucker cause I hadn’t drunk any water all night. But I hadn’t actually pulled back my foreskin to have a good look at the piercing, you know to check that there was nothing wrong, like puss, or I don’t know what? So I pulled it back and saw that the piercing was clean… but then I started bleeding profusely again and didn’t stop all day. I started drinking heaps of water which made me piss heaps but Paulus did tell me pissing was 80% of my aftercare so I should drink loads of water and piss heaps which I am, doing both. And soaking it in warm saltwater.

At this point that’s about all there is to report other than, thank god for these adult men diapers, which I posted up online and was shocked at the huge feedback I got. I had tapped into a whole new fetish accidentally.

Just took another piss and there was no blood but I didn’t pull my foreskin back. Will probably have to soon and give it a good wash as it’s smelling ripe. Not in a bad way but in that way where I intentionally don’t wash it thoroughly for a day or two so that when a bloke pulls it outta my pants not only is he shocked at how huge and mean it looks but he’s also hit with how ripe it stinks. Love that. Not into dick cheese but definitely into ripe cock… urgh I better stop writing now before I give myself a hardon…

This is how FKED up Instagram is. They deleted my original account, and fair enough, I’ll allow them to have that one as I was pushing the boundaries more than is allowed, but NOWHERE NEAR as much as other accounts! So I created a new account and played by their rules only to have some dip shit get it removed. How do I know this asshole did this because some wanker created a supposed “fan” account… …his handle was ‘roganrichards_’ Name ‘ROGAN RICHARDS’ and only in his bio was the word ‘FAN PAGE’ used to show that he wasn’t trying to be me. This guy messaged 3 people I know so far asking them to follow and repost his profile, two of my best friends and my pup. I messaged the shit head from my pup’s account saying he needed to state that he is a ‘FAN PAGE’ in his account name. He said he had, cause he’s obviously stupid and doesn’t know the difference between a header and a bio.

I then messaged him myself from my account stating the same thing, also making it blatantly clear that if he was actually a “fan” (a word over-abused almost as much as “love”) he would make it clear that this account was not pretending to be me, esp after my original account was disabled and many people don’t know I have a new one AND so many other fake accounts have surfaced. Which would only confuse my followers and piss me off.

The next thing I know my new account and my pups have both been disabled. Coincidence? I don’t believe in coincidence. My pup managed to get his profile reinstalled by following the prompts.  I did exactly what he did but when it lead to a page that he was allowed to plead his case, I was not given that option but rather had a popup message saying we will email you with a response. Meaning, we don’t give a FUCK and you won’t hear back from us. Because I have NEVER  had a follow-up email from Instagram… EVER!

What really pisses me off is I have reported fake accounts who not only try to be me for attention but also to commit fraud and steal money from my followers, these accounts are still active. This cunt gets me and my boy’s account disabled in the space of an hour.

Seriously?!?

I get asked this all the time, how do I live my life being who I am and not allow all the nasty comments, narrow-minded judgments and blatant bitchiness from other gays affect me. If you only take one thing away from reading this article please let it be this… STOP SELF-SHAMING! Once you do that no one can make you feel ashamed or embarrassed of who you are or what you do. You take away their power to hurt you and you see their attacks for what they are, actually nothing to do with you and all to do with them.

I used to hate myself. I was shy and very insecure. I was frigid (believe that one?!) ashamed of my skin colour, voice, sexuality, and body. It took me years to overcome these things, some much longer than others. I’m not going to go into my personal journey from a shy child into a depressed teenager into a sex God and gay icon. All you need to know is you need to accept yourself before you can be yourself. In this life you need to find your TRUTH and accept it, own it, live it and LOVE IT! And if you don’t like who you are, fucking do something about it! And if you just rolled your eyes, I didn’t say it’s going to be easy but it can be done. I know because I did it. And once I did that people could throw all their hate at me and I couldn’t’ give a shit.

I remember when I started doing porn I heard a guy I had hooked up with had said, “Why is he doing porn? His cock’s not big enough.” At the time it made me self-doubt myself, and my, now famous and worldwide adored, beast cock. At the time I was still discovering my sexual confidence and more importantly having the courage to explore the sex that I wanted to have. And I wasn’t confident with my dick or how to use it.

Hating on each other has become the norm within our community and in our every day social behavior and though it is not the cause, social media has provided people with a platform to rip each other apart. The web, Facebook, Instagram, and dating apps has allowed all these people who have chips on their shoulders that hid away in their own misery a place to finally, and more often than not anonymously, come out and throw their shit onto everyone else. Trolling, bullying, hating and abuse has infested an amazing platform for connecting people, sharing life achievements, education, and open communication.

YOU CAN’T PLEASE EVERYONE SO JUST PLEASE YOURSELF.

I never have done anything for people to like me. Everything I do is to entertain myself, I only get to live this life once and I am not going to waste a FKIN second trying to live it to please anyone else. As long as I am not disrespecting or hurting anyone I just do me. And for someone to hate on me they have to actively find me, click on me, and do so. So what is this obsessive need to jump on someone else’s platform and shit negativity?

This leads us to the next most important thing you need to do, DO NOT ENGAGE!

Do not try to change anyone’s mind or argue with him or her to try and see your point of view. They don’t and they won’t. These people are blinded by their own self-hatred and loathing and are not open to any type of reasoning or common sense. I used to engage before I knew better and it is a complete waste of time and energy. And if you weren’t upset to begin with, you will be by the end of that conversation.

Most of the people that hate on you, or talk shit about you or what you do, DO NOT KNOW YOU!

They have never met you and they know absolutely nothing about you BUT think they do. And absurdly think they have some god-written write to criticize and comment on what you do. Of course, someone like me has to accept I will get the good with the bad. For every amazing comment there will be a nasty one. And I am not against an intelligent different point of view or stance against something I have said or good old-fashioned constructive criticism but we are talking about pure viscous nasty shit for the sake of hurting. Also, someone sees me post a muscle worship video of me flexing and talking all DOM and degrading and the motherfucker thinks that’s what I am like for real. Like I’ll walk past a stranger on the street who nods hello and my response is to rip my top off and flex in his face screaming, “You pathetic sub-human. Bow down in the face of alpha greatness!” (And if I was to do that and say, get a hard-on from doing it, who are they to judge what my fetishes are!)

I posted up a video the other day of me miming to Louise’s Naked. (Before my Instagram account was taken down. The new one is up @roganrichardsstrikesback. In the comments, a guy came at me for using “Camp” in a derogative way. I had said, “I don’t think you’re gonna see me more camp than this” Um. Where the fuck did I say “camp” is a negative thing? His attack was a direct response to his own issues with the word camp. So you see it doesn’t matter what I say or do, other people will react to it according to their own perceptions. I have no problems with calling myself camp or fem and if this cunt knew me, or checked out my BLOG he would see this for himself. Most of the time the people attacking you about something are just projecting their own issues about the thing they are accusing you of doing, in reality, doing just what they are accusing you of.

But once you see all this shit for what it is you can stop FKIN caring about it and you can get on with living your life the FKIN way you want too!

picture Charles Moriarty Photography