I'll have you know that I have never in all my years fucked a goat nor any other beast. Not due to any great moral values, more a lack of opportunity having grown up in suburbia. And it seems that now that I do have some mild form of morality I find the idea of goat fucking rather lacking.
However, though in the above mentioned film there was a preponderance of goats and many, many characters of- shall we say- dubious connection to reality there was no real evidence of actual goat fucking. But between you and I, I have my doubts about Jeff Bridges character.
After drinking two pitchers of beer while watching the movie and then driving home, the Mrs. and I then discussed the concept of international evil with the exchange student. It seemed that some of the American high school kids were making fun of the Holocaust. Being from France, our student simply could not fathom such behavior. Nor can I, once again I feel let down by America's youth and our educational system. The many lessons of history, even those from not so long ago, are yet again lost. This is to be expected as the WWII generation is all but gone, but it is still disheartening.
Then the Mrs. and I took off and had freaky sex for about two hours, this time with a bottle of oil. You'd be surprised how far one ounce of oil can go.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Happy Birthday.
Friday is the Mrs. birthday. Unfortunately, she is completely laid up with an inflamed, fucked up lower back, pinching a nerve and leading to severe sciatica. Fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck.
We are still going to drive down to my parents house for some free birthday babysitting, but I don't think we are going to have the freaky ass sex filled exhibitionist weekend I was hoping for.
Here's what is going to happen: we are going to drive down there, hang out, watch some tv, drink a few beers, eat dinner, have her birthday cherry pie, and well, that's about it.
Here's what I would like to have happen and probably would have without her injury: We drive down there. Sit politely for the birthday pie. Get the fuck out of the house for a romantical birthday dinner somewhere with lots and lots of drinks. Go to a bar and talk, sneak her into a an ally in the bar corridor for a little making out and maybe more. Get in the car and go parking somewhere for a front seat blowjob and some back seat and then hood fucking. Then back to the house for some sex in my childhood bedroom. Then out to the 14th fairway for some fairway sex. Then sneak naked past my parents room (from the outside) back upstairs to my room to pass out.
Then to wake up for a well earned cup o coffee or ten.
We are still going to drive down to my parents house for some free birthday babysitting, but I don't think we are going to have the freaky ass sex filled exhibitionist weekend I was hoping for.
Here's what is going to happen: we are going to drive down there, hang out, watch some tv, drink a few beers, eat dinner, have her birthday cherry pie, and well, that's about it.
Here's what I would like to have happen and probably would have without her injury: We drive down there. Sit politely for the birthday pie. Get the fuck out of the house for a romantical birthday dinner somewhere with lots and lots of drinks. Go to a bar and talk, sneak her into a an ally in the bar corridor for a little making out and maybe more. Get in the car and go parking somewhere for a front seat blowjob and some back seat and then hood fucking. Then back to the house for some sex in my childhood bedroom. Then out to the 14th fairway for some fairway sex. Then sneak naked past my parents room (from the outside) back upstairs to my room to pass out.
Then to wake up for a well earned cup o coffee or ten.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Here's what I think.
In other news, we have a French exchange student. Good kid. Today we took her to the Cherokee Reservation so she could truly see what horrible, warlike assholes us Americans are. Cherokee has an excellent museum, which we went to, an authentic type village, which we did not go to, a theatrical presentation called "Unto These Hills", which we missed, and a Casino, which we also missed. So we did very little while there. We did hit a tourist trap, and of the hundreds of people there we think we saw a real Cherokee working at a coffee shop.
So it was a successful day. I don't really have any funny stories or anything except to say that that fat Indian chick makes one hell of a good cappuccino .
Me No Likey.
So there I was. Sweating. Naked. Engaged in sexual activity. One of my favorite things in the universe. And then her hip went out. Not her fault, but damnit. Now my balls are about as blue as a blue whale.
Or you could watch this educational video if you need more help.
But that is another story.
I haven't done much blogging as of late, I've been busy. Let me catch you up on my life since my last post. As you know, I like to post about date night- but we haven't had any crazy ass dates. Damnit. Last night we went to see Zombieland- which was fucking awesome, right up there with Shawn of the Dead in my opinion.
But anyway, other than that. I've been working. A lot. Three jobs. My business, a side business, and I took a job as the Director of Operations at an Engineering Firm. They had a retarded three year old doing their marketing and systems development. Asshats.
Haven't had any really freaky, awesome sex since my last blog. Due entirely to the fact that the Mrs. has injured her back pretty seriously. Sadly, not in a sex related accident. Doing laundry in fact. Kinda sucks how you get hurt doing ordinary shit, and not fighting tigers or something. Oh well.
I moved the location of the business as I just couldn't afford the high rent. Now I have a better location with a better deal- so I'm happy about that.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Anniversary Update: You stuck what where?
It was awesome little dudes.
Yesterday was our ninth or tenth anniversary, depending upon which country we are in. See, to get her visa into China I had to say we were married. So all of the paperwork in China says that we were married 10 years ago. However, we officially got married nine years ago in America.
I went to a great deal of trouble to make sure that I didn't have to work last night and booked somebody to sit for the kid.
I even walked in the door with a dozen roses. She seemed to like them, good sign.
When the sitter arrived we hot tailed it to PF Chang's for dinner before the movie. Had a few drinks and dinner- it was great. Here things loosened up nicely and the evening was off to a great start- with which I was well pleased.
Then we walked over to the theatre to see the Hangover. It was awesomely hilarious, I highly recommend it. We also had a couple of beers in the theatre.
Upon walking to back to the car, we snuck around between buildings to make out while hiding from the security guard.
We went home, I took the sitter home (no, I didn't bust a move on her- she's our oldest daughters 15 year old best friend. That's just sick. Also, never fuck the help. They stop helping.)
Then the games began. To make a long, two straight hours of fucking, story short, well, I'm not going to tell you exactly what we did for two hours- but here is a materials list:
Yesterday was our ninth or tenth anniversary, depending upon which country we are in. See, to get her visa into China I had to say we were married. So all of the paperwork in China says that we were married 10 years ago. However, we officially got married nine years ago in America.
I went to a great deal of trouble to make sure that I didn't have to work last night and booked somebody to sit for the kid.
I even walked in the door with a dozen roses. She seemed to like them, good sign.
When the sitter arrived we hot tailed it to PF Chang's for dinner before the movie. Had a few drinks and dinner- it was great. Here things loosened up nicely and the evening was off to a great start- with which I was well pleased.
Then we walked over to the theatre to see the Hangover. It was awesomely hilarious, I highly recommend it. We also had a couple of beers in the theatre.
Upon walking to back to the car, we snuck around between buildings to make out while hiding from the security guard.
We went home, I took the sitter home (no, I didn't bust a move on her- she's our oldest daughters 15 year old best friend. That's just sick. Also, never fuck the help. They stop helping.)
Then the games began. To make a long, two straight hours of fucking, story short, well, I'm not going to tell you exactly what we did for two hours- but here is a materials list:
What tools do you need for a glorious anniversary?
Two ropes, one gag, one blindfold, and two dildos.
Also, important discovery: I do not like things stuck in my ass. Not at all. It's official.
Oddly enough, I woke up today with no hangover whatsoever and I have a very good idea of what took place last night. This will go down as a great anniversary with a great deal of sexual experimentation. It was awesome.
Oddly enough, I woke up today with no hangover whatsoever and I have a very good idea of what took place last night. This will go down as a great anniversary with a great deal of sexual experimentation. It was awesome.
Friday, July 10, 2009
What's he doing to that poor orangutan?
Sorry I haven't been the most prolific of writers this summer- it's been crazy. Not the, "holy shit look how drunk he is, what's that he's jammed up his ass and what is he doing to that poor orangutan" crazy.
No, more like the "fuck, I'm busy as hell and we've traveled a lot" crazy. Speaking of traveling a lot, I just got back from our annual vacation in Ft. Lauderdale, Fl.
As some of you who follow me on twitter know, though I did get laid, I didn't get laid nearly as much as I would have liked. You see, there was a small problem with having the youngest kid sleeping in the same room with us. Now I know what you're thinking- the same thing I am to be sure-
Who the fuck cares? She was asleep right?
Well, for parts of the trip the Mrs. didn't see eye to eye with us (us meaning me and you- not a third party in the bedroom.... Unless you want to join us in the bedroom. Then there is a rigorous interview process in which I film myself sticking my winky into your dinky repeatedly and see what the wifey thinks. Probably won't go over so well.)
You know, I want to get a beer right now, but I think I'll hold off and go to the book store in a bit. Anyway....back to the story. I was distracted thinking about winkies and dinkies.
So anyway, she didn't wanna fuck with the kid asleep right there in the little bed next to us. I said, "but honey schnookums lovey bunny, don't you remember that time we got drunk and were naked fucking on the kitchen counter and she walked in and asked us where our pajamas were? I know it was completely mortifying and we probably scarred her for life, in fact I personally am scarred by it, but let's forget about that right now."
She didn't buy my argument at first. But then one morning I woke her up at 3:47AM by rubbing her cookie and she said, "you sonofabitch. If I can't get back to sleep after this I am going to kill you. I mean really, with a salad spoon."
So I took that to mean, "come on baby, I'm so hot and horny for you that I can barely stand it and I want you to cum on my tits right now you dirty bad boy!" So I hopped on and was done by 4:10AM.
After she made sure that I got a bit of nookie before we went to sleep just so I would leave her alone. I consider that to be one of life's major successes. It was like we had a respectful and loving marital discussion where we talked about out thoughts, wants, needs, and deepest desires and then we made them happen. She wanted to sleep and I wanted pussy. It was beautiful, really.
It was a good thing we came to that accord- I was about to wrap the chihuahua up in duct tape and turn it into a fi fi.
But enough about that, let's talk about the rest of the vacation- it was great!
In summary, we saw a couple of movies, ate out a lot, and generally hung out with her family (I like them by the way) and had fun. The two highlights of the trip were going to a vineyard that makes wine out of various fruits such as starfruit, mango, etc. It is extraordinarily awesome, check it out at http://www.schneblywinery.com/. It's in Homestead, Fl. We did a wine tasting and then got a bottle to just sit around and drink. It was super sweet.
Later that same day we went with my sister- in- law to the Hard Rock Casino in Hollywood, Fl. Here they have a piano bar, an Irish pub, a few clubs, a comedy club, a bunch of shops, a billiards bar... it was great.
The two girls got fairly schnockered while I stayed sober to drive home. I did have a beer or two- but only that. I was hoping to get them drunk enough for a threesome- but that didn't happen. Oh well. Probably because the Mrs. told me on no uncertain terms that I am not allowed to try to stick my dick in any of her sisters. This was an agreement very early on in our relationship.
Cut to a flashback from ten or so years ago. Imagine me younger, better looking, more muscular, and still with that vibrant smile of youth not yet beaten out of me by life. Imagine my wife still hot as balls- just like she is now....
I said, "so wait a minute- you're saying that it would be weird for me to stick my dingy in your sisters pinky?"
And she said "yes, I am saying that you cannot do whatever the fuck you just said."
Then I said, pointing to another lady across the store we were in, "what about her? Can I stick my doodle in her diddle?"
The Mrs. said, "I'm going to kill you with a salad spoon." So I let it drop. I feel we discussed that adequately and the answer is a resounding hell no on both counts. This shall not be revisited.
Later she pointed out a woman who looking like a cross between Lars Ulrich and Chewbacca and said I could pop her pokey if I could get past the fur. I thought about it and declined.
Okay, that whole thing about fucking her sister and chewy didn't really happen. I was just making conversation.
Back to our present story.
So we had a great night drinking and partying at the hard rock, and then went home. I did get some poontang (the Mrs.) that evening and it was lovely, I assure you.
Then I flew back up here and have spent this past week working 10 hour days while they hung out for one more week. The girls were thinking about staying all summer down there, but I'm really, really glad that they are not.
No, more like the "fuck, I'm busy as hell and we've traveled a lot" crazy. Speaking of traveling a lot, I just got back from our annual vacation in Ft. Lauderdale, Fl.
As some of you who follow me on twitter know, though I did get laid, I didn't get laid nearly as much as I would have liked. You see, there was a small problem with having the youngest kid sleeping in the same room with us. Now I know what you're thinking- the same thing I am to be sure-
Who the fuck cares? She was asleep right?
Well, for parts of the trip the Mrs. didn't see eye to eye with us (us meaning me and you- not a third party in the bedroom.... Unless you want to join us in the bedroom. Then there is a rigorous interview process in which I film myself sticking my winky into your dinky repeatedly and see what the wifey thinks. Probably won't go over so well.)
You know, I want to get a beer right now, but I think I'll hold off and go to the book store in a bit. Anyway....back to the story. I was distracted thinking about winkies and dinkies.
So anyway, she didn't wanna fuck with the kid asleep right there in the little bed next to us. I said, "but honey schnookums lovey bunny, don't you remember that time we got drunk and were naked fucking on the kitchen counter and she walked in and asked us where our pajamas were? I know it was completely mortifying and we probably scarred her for life, in fact I personally am scarred by it, but let's forget about that right now."
She didn't buy my argument at first. But then one morning I woke her up at 3:47AM by rubbing her cookie and she said, "you sonofabitch. If I can't get back to sleep after this I am going to kill you. I mean really, with a salad spoon."
So I took that to mean, "come on baby, I'm so hot and horny for you that I can barely stand it and I want you to cum on my tits right now you dirty bad boy!" So I hopped on and was done by 4:10AM.
After she made sure that I got a bit of nookie before we went to sleep just so I would leave her alone. I consider that to be one of life's major successes. It was like we had a respectful and loving marital discussion where we talked about out thoughts, wants, needs, and deepest desires and then we made them happen. She wanted to sleep and I wanted pussy. It was beautiful, really.
It was a good thing we came to that accord- I was about to wrap the chihuahua up in duct tape and turn it into a fi fi.
But enough about that, let's talk about the rest of the vacation- it was great!
In summary, we saw a couple of movies, ate out a lot, and generally hung out with her family (I like them by the way) and had fun. The two highlights of the trip were going to a vineyard that makes wine out of various fruits such as starfruit, mango, etc. It is extraordinarily awesome, check it out at http://www.schneblywinery.com/. It's in Homestead, Fl. We did a wine tasting and then got a bottle to just sit around and drink. It was super sweet.
Later that same day we went with my sister- in- law to the Hard Rock Casino in Hollywood, Fl. Here they have a piano bar, an Irish pub, a few clubs, a comedy club, a bunch of shops, a billiards bar... it was great.
The two girls got fairly schnockered while I stayed sober to drive home. I did have a beer or two- but only that. I was hoping to get them drunk enough for a threesome- but that didn't happen. Oh well. Probably because the Mrs. told me on no uncertain terms that I am not allowed to try to stick my dick in any of her sisters. This was an agreement very early on in our relationship.
Cut to a flashback from ten or so years ago. Imagine me younger, better looking, more muscular, and still with that vibrant smile of youth not yet beaten out of me by life. Imagine my wife still hot as balls- just like she is now....
I said, "so wait a minute- you're saying that it would be weird for me to stick my dingy in your sisters pinky?"
And she said "yes, I am saying that you cannot do whatever the fuck you just said."
Then I said, pointing to another lady across the store we were in, "what about her? Can I stick my doodle in her diddle?"
The Mrs. said, "I'm going to kill you with a salad spoon." So I let it drop. I feel we discussed that adequately and the answer is a resounding hell no on both counts. This shall not be revisited.
Later she pointed out a woman who looking like a cross between Lars Ulrich and Chewbacca and said I could pop her pokey if I could get past the fur. I thought about it and declined.
Okay, that whole thing about fucking her sister and chewy didn't really happen. I was just making conversation.
Back to our present story.
So we had a great night drinking and partying at the hard rock, and then went home. I did get some poontang (the Mrs.) that evening and it was lovely, I assure you.
Then I flew back up here and have spent this past week working 10 hour days while they hung out for one more week. The girls were thinking about staying all summer down there, but I'm really, really glad that they are not.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
San Francisco
I'm back! And we had an absolutely wonderful time! The Mrs. and I went to SF on Friday, she stayed until Tuesday, and I stayed until Sunday on business. The business part was highly productive, but let's focus on the important part- the part with the Mrs. We had a great time! I for one, and I think the Mrs. as well, was thrilled to be of adventuring together again! It was great!
Thanks to my new friend the Swin Flu, we were able to both go for the price of what it usually costs me to go by myself. I even at some pork in it's honor.
So here is the run down. We got in Friday night and ate dinner somewhere on the Wharf strip. I got us a room at the Radisson Hotel on the Wharf as well. We had sex, it was awesome. This time mostly consisting me giving a "mustache ride."
Saturday morning we toured pier 39 before it opened up. We also hung out and watched the Sea Lions for about an hour. It was fun once you got into their little culture.
Next we went to China Town. We had fun getting a bunch of chincy junk for the kids- but they loved it so the purpose was well served. We also had an excellent lunch of Mabu Dofu and Kung Pow Chicken. It was excellent. Unfortunately, of all of the excellent (and I mean excellent) Pilsners is China, the only one you can find anywhere in the states is Tsing Doa. Oh well.
We then walked to Little Italy and sat at an Irish Pub for a pint. There we spoke to a girl who had lived in Germany. She was a fun, loquacious lesbian who was great fun to talk to. Even with her bad teeth. Though I do admit that I found myself trying and failing to not look at her missing tooth.
For dinner we wondered over to Ghirordelli Square and went to a super fancy seafood restaurant there called McCormick and Kuleto's. It was GOD AWFULLY FUCKING HORRID. Jesus Fucking Christ, it was so bad we just started laughing. I alone spent $30 on three, small, overcooked scallops. We laughed so hard we just paid and continued to laugh as we walked out the door. From there we paid ass loads of money for a Miller light and then went home.
All and all a great day. Even the shitty expensive food. We had sex. It was awesome. This time consisting of some good ole fashioned fucking.
On Sunday we went to the Asian Museum of Arts- very cool. We also had a surprisingly delicious lunch there. From there we walked up to little Saigon and had a donut and coffee. There we were privileged to witness a regular customer verbally attack the lady behind the counter regarding a straw. It was fucking hilarious. From there we went to the Golden Gate Park where we walked through the Japanese Tea Garden. From there we walked to my absolute favorite Chinese Restaurant in the Western World:
The Yan Yan Seafood Restaurant
2241 Judah St
(between 27th Ave & 28th Ave)
San Francisco, CA 94122
(415) 661-5122
This place is fucking awesome. Now, this is coming from a guy who used to live in China. The decor here is just like a real Chinese joint, only the seafood is in tanks instead of Tupperware bins. The food is absolutely awesome. I recommend that you get something weird.
Then we went to the beach just outside of Golden Gate Park to watch the Sunset. I fucking froze my balls off, but it was worth it as this was the very reason that the Mrs. wanted to go to SF. She wanted to see the sunset over the pacific. It was my pleasure to make this happen for her.
Then we went to the hotel and had sex. It was awesome. This time we started off from behind and went on from there.
Monday. We went to Japan Town and toured the Japan Town Center. There we got a bunch of Manga Comics for oldest kid. Then we went to the Golden Gate Bridge and took some pics. From there we went back to the hotel and ate at a burger joint. Then we had sex. It was awesome.
Tuesday I dropped her off at the airport and went to work.
I had a great time and I sincerely hope that she did as well.
Thanks to my new friend the Swin Flu, we were able to both go for the price of what it usually costs me to go by myself. I even at some pork in it's honor.
So here is the run down. We got in Friday night and ate dinner somewhere on the Wharf strip. I got us a room at the Radisson Hotel on the Wharf as well. We had sex, it was awesome. This time mostly consisting me giving a "mustache ride."
Saturday morning we toured pier 39 before it opened up. We also hung out and watched the Sea Lions for about an hour. It was fun once you got into their little culture.
Next we went to China Town. We had fun getting a bunch of chincy junk for the kids- but they loved it so the purpose was well served. We also had an excellent lunch of Mabu Dofu and Kung Pow Chicken. It was excellent. Unfortunately, of all of the excellent (and I mean excellent) Pilsners is China, the only one you can find anywhere in the states is Tsing Doa. Oh well.
We then walked to Little Italy and sat at an Irish Pub for a pint. There we spoke to a girl who had lived in Germany. She was a fun, loquacious lesbian who was great fun to talk to. Even with her bad teeth. Though I do admit that I found myself trying and failing to not look at her missing tooth.
For dinner we wondered over to Ghirordelli Square and went to a super fancy seafood restaurant there called McCormick and Kuleto's. It was GOD AWFULLY FUCKING HORRID. Jesus Fucking Christ, it was so bad we just started laughing. I alone spent $30 on three, small, overcooked scallops. We laughed so hard we just paid and continued to laugh as we walked out the door. From there we paid ass loads of money for a Miller light and then went home.
All and all a great day. Even the shitty expensive food. We had sex. It was awesome. This time consisting of some good ole fashioned fucking.
On Sunday we went to the Asian Museum of Arts- very cool. We also had a surprisingly delicious lunch there. From there we walked up to little Saigon and had a donut and coffee. There we were privileged to witness a regular customer verbally attack the lady behind the counter regarding a straw. It was fucking hilarious. From there we went to the Golden Gate Park where we walked through the Japanese Tea Garden. From there we walked to my absolute favorite Chinese Restaurant in the Western World:
The Yan Yan Seafood Restaurant
2241 Judah St
(between 27th Ave & 28th Ave)
San Francisco, CA 94122
(415) 661-5122
This place is fucking awesome. Now, this is coming from a guy who used to live in China. The decor here is just like a real Chinese joint, only the seafood is in tanks instead of Tupperware bins. The food is absolutely awesome. I recommend that you get something weird.
Then we went to the beach just outside of Golden Gate Park to watch the Sunset. I fucking froze my balls off, but it was worth it as this was the very reason that the Mrs. wanted to go to SF. She wanted to see the sunset over the pacific. It was my pleasure to make this happen for her.
Then we went to the hotel and had sex. It was awesome. This time we started off from behind and went on from there.
Monday. We went to Japan Town and toured the Japan Town Center. There we got a bunch of Manga Comics for oldest kid. Then we went to the Golden Gate Bridge and took some pics. From there we went back to the hotel and ate at a burger joint. Then we had sex. It was awesome.
Tuesday I dropped her off at the airport and went to work.
I had a great time and I sincerely hope that she did as well.
Friday, June 5, 2009
This Whole Tattoo Thing
I'm getting a tattoo. The Mrs. just asked me why and I started to answer, but she wasn't listening so I stopped talking. So I'll tell you.
The dragon represents power and spiritual Ascension. However, the fact that the dragons head is angled downward to me represents having seen this enlightened state, but failed at it so far. Next the dragon is ferocious, vicious, merciless and powerful. This is how I've had to be to deal with the past decade of fucked up shit that has happened and that I have had to do. I have hardened from my idealistic younger self to become whatever the hell I am now. I have lost a child, lost friends over money, declared bankruptcy, dealt with all kinds of things that arise when owning a business, had my wife tell me that she was leaving me, working on winning her back (I have no idea how I am doing by the way), gone through deep depression, and so on and so forth.
My general nature is to be trusting, giving, sharing- this has gotten me into a great deal of trouble. This giving nature has been killed and beaten into the ground- not by me- but by having been taken advantage of by people that I was trying to help.
But the dragon is not just merciless. It is wisdom. Earned in blood and sweat. Old, worn like a pair of boots, tired but unrelenting.
I guess you could say that the dragon represents my failings as a human, yet a single minded determination to continue to put one foot in front of the other having learned may lessons along the way from having fucked up so much and been pissed on repeatedly. And to not only continue, but to prevail.
I once was a sensitive, kind person who gave too much of myself to everybody. Kindness is good, but it must be tempered with strength.
So that's what the dragon means.
The dragon represents power and spiritual Ascension. However, the fact that the dragons head is angled downward to me represents having seen this enlightened state, but failed at it so far. Next the dragon is ferocious, vicious, merciless and powerful. This is how I've had to be to deal with the past decade of fucked up shit that has happened and that I have had to do. I have hardened from my idealistic younger self to become whatever the hell I am now. I have lost a child, lost friends over money, declared bankruptcy, dealt with all kinds of things that arise when owning a business, had my wife tell me that she was leaving me, working on winning her back (I have no idea how I am doing by the way), gone through deep depression, and so on and so forth.
My general nature is to be trusting, giving, sharing- this has gotten me into a great deal of trouble. This giving nature has been killed and beaten into the ground- not by me- but by having been taken advantage of by people that I was trying to help.
But the dragon is not just merciless. It is wisdom. Earned in blood and sweat. Old, worn like a pair of boots, tired but unrelenting.
I guess you could say that the dragon represents my failings as a human, yet a single minded determination to continue to put one foot in front of the other having learned may lessons along the way from having fucked up so much and been pissed on repeatedly. And to not only continue, but to prevail.
I once was a sensitive, kind person who gave too much of myself to everybody. Kindness is good, but it must be tempered with strength.
So that's what the dragon means.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
The Truth of the Matter
I came across this a long time ago, but felt it was somehow pertinent to today. Maybe because I didn't get any cookie today. Maybe not.
So grab your dick and double click......
So grab your dick and double click......
What do you think of this one?
Right now this is the forerunner for my tattoo. It's gonna go on my right shoulder.
What do you think?
What do you think?
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Mommy, Daddy, where are your pajamas?
Friday Date Night. Started off lamer than lame with lameness on top but got better. Much better. With me on top. Then her. Then me some more...but more on that later.
To begin with I was pretty bummed. Terminator whatever number they're on (so many that they now have a new generation of star in the film) opened this weekend. I have been a huge T fan since 1984, when I saw the first (and only one worth a shit) installment at least a dozen times in the theatre. Anyway, we couldn't go. Date night was supposed to be to go see the movie and we couldn't go.
See, previously we had allowed the bigger kid to go to a Manga Convention this weekend, so we were out of a baby sitter. Furthermore, in my infinite wisdom, I failed to make her do anything to pay her own way. Being 16 it's unrealistic for her to think of money on her own accord- I should have reminded her. So anyway, there she was yesterday with her hand out.
"Oh yeah, hey Dad- can I have $100?" Jesus.
So date night took place at home. We rented a bunch of movies, purchased some beer and steaks to grill, and away we went. First we watched a Barbie movie with the little kid, then tossed her ass in bed. So we thought. More on that later.
We stuck in a movie called Fanboys- it was cute. Of course, you know we had been drinking beer the whole time. So by the end of the movie we were fairly shnockered. We went into the kitchen to put the leftovers in the fridge. Here is where the fun began.
While the Mrs. was doing something, I took it upon myself to take off her shirt, biting her neck I started to unbutton her pants. The next thing I know I'm getting the most incredible blow job right there in the kitchen. I liked to think the neighbors were watching. Especially the pastors wife next door who I suspect hasn't gotten laid in a couple of years.
Then I tossed her on the counter and away we went. When I say this was hot, I mean it was HHHHOOOOOTTTTT sex. Yipping, screaming, biting, clawing, freaky, hot, awesome sex.
So there we are, getting freaky on the kitchen counter, when a little voice says,
"Mommy, Daddy, where are your pajamas?" I decided to let the Mrs. deal with this one as the fact that I had a huge boner may have lead to a line of questioning that I wasn't prepared to answer. So the Mrs. put her back to bed.
We went to our bedroom and locked the door. After laughing for a good 10 minutes we were able to get ourselves back in the mood. And boy did we. Again we went at it with the biting and clawing and oh yeah, we need to go pick up that headboard we bought the other day. I am always proud of myself when I can make her scream for an hour. Quite literally.
To begin with I was pretty bummed. Terminator whatever number they're on (so many that they now have a new generation of star in the film) opened this weekend. I have been a huge T fan since 1984, when I saw the first (and only one worth a shit) installment at least a dozen times in the theatre. Anyway, we couldn't go. Date night was supposed to be to go see the movie and we couldn't go.
See, previously we had allowed the bigger kid to go to a Manga Convention this weekend, so we were out of a baby sitter. Furthermore, in my infinite wisdom, I failed to make her do anything to pay her own way. Being 16 it's unrealistic for her to think of money on her own accord- I should have reminded her. So anyway, there she was yesterday with her hand out.
"Oh yeah, hey Dad- can I have $100?" Jesus.
So date night took place at home. We rented a bunch of movies, purchased some beer and steaks to grill, and away we went. First we watched a Barbie movie with the little kid, then tossed her ass in bed. So we thought. More on that later.
We stuck in a movie called Fanboys- it was cute. Of course, you know we had been drinking beer the whole time. So by the end of the movie we were fairly shnockered. We went into the kitchen to put the leftovers in the fridge. Here is where the fun began.
While the Mrs. was doing something, I took it upon myself to take off her shirt, biting her neck I started to unbutton her pants. The next thing I know I'm getting the most incredible blow job right there in the kitchen. I liked to think the neighbors were watching. Especially the pastors wife next door who I suspect hasn't gotten laid in a couple of years.
Then I tossed her on the counter and away we went. When I say this was hot, I mean it was HHHHOOOOOTTTTT sex. Yipping, screaming, biting, clawing, freaky, hot, awesome sex.
So there we are, getting freaky on the kitchen counter, when a little voice says,
"Mommy, Daddy, where are your pajamas?" I decided to let the Mrs. deal with this one as the fact that I had a huge boner may have lead to a line of questioning that I wasn't prepared to answer. So the Mrs. put her back to bed.
We went to our bedroom and locked the door. After laughing for a good 10 minutes we were able to get ourselves back in the mood. And boy did we. Again we went at it with the biting and clawing and oh yeah, we need to go pick up that headboard we bought the other day. I am always proud of myself when I can make her scream for an hour. Quite literally.
The safe word was "blueberry." It was never used.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Behold My Glory!
Yes indeed, have I a tail to tell. The Mrs. is an avid blogger. Not gonna tell you which one as we keep them intentionally separate. I read her blog, but I don't follow her tweets and we don't have any of the same friends on purpose.
Anyway, one of her long time blog buddies decided to hold a bloggers party for anybody and everybody who follows her blog. She is a wonderful lady with a great deal more courage than I would dare to have. People who read my blog know way too much about the real me and know me way to well even if you don't know my name. Fortunately, I take great comfort in the fact that nobody actually reads this thing anyway. I currently have two official followers, but they are just two very nice people who claim to follow me so I don't feel left out.
Back to the party. At first, the Mrs. was going to go by herself to hang out with her friends. Then about two weeks before the event started to talk about maybe I would be allowed to go as well, maybe not. I didn't really know until Saturday morning if I was invited or not. As it turns out, we left the older kid at home overnight by herself (gasp! when I was her age I was at home alone all of the time) and we took the younger one with us. It worked out to be a good thing that the older kid stayed home. Read on, oh intrepid one.
We drove for six hours to get to her house in Virginia, arriving at 5 or so on Saturday. We were greeted with a glass of wine and a hug. Nice so far. I tend to have sort of a dominant personality, so I decided to try to stay in the background at this party as I was an honored guest of my wife's (and I was honored to have been invited into this, though nervous about meeting her personal world of friends whom I knew nothing about and had no idea what the expect.)
So the wine is flowing and everybody is talking like old friends. Which they were as they had all been following and commenting on each others blogs for at least a year. They knew each other very, very well and were surprised by the fact.
The Mrs., whom I love dearly, is not one of those people with a brain to mouth filter. She is highly, highly intelligent and does not lie. About anything. Ever. Put a few gallons of wine in her and she begins to reveal things about herself and everybody else around her that make people uncomfortable. She is too right on for most of them to like.
So every bodies getting drunker than shit and then the pipe emerges. As it turns out, the weed was laced with mushrooms- though we didn't know that at the time. I took one hit the Mrs. had two. I was drunk, but had been holding back as I didn't know anybody there and wasn't that comfortable with them (nothing personal, they were all very nice) but the Mrs. was already tore ass up. Then add on the laced weed and she blacked out on her feet.
Here's where the party got interesting.
She saw a 30 something girl sitting in the corner enjoying her buzz. She was by far the weakest person there, so the Mrs. basically attacked. She said, "let go of me," and walked over to the girl, sat down next to her, and then put her head up against her shoulder.
At first I thought. Huh. She's either hitting on that girl over there for me to fuck so she can fuck her new buddy or she's hitting on her for him to fuck or she's working on a threesome or a foursome or some kind of a some. I was possibly (don't really know the truth of the matter) wrong. After a few minutes the shy girl got up and stormed out, the Mrs's face fell, and she got up in chase. I went out as well since I didn't know what had happened- and still don't- but I do know that the Mrs. apologized emphatically and then felt terrible about it for the rest of the evening. The Mrs. then went upstairs to hang out with the host, and then hugged and spoke on the couch upstairs. I wonder if it had something to do with the fact that the girl was so flat chested her boobs went in instead of out?
After that the party pretty much went on with everybody getting fffffffuuuuuucccccckkkkkkeeeeedddddd uuuuuuuupppppppp. I had actually stopped drinking and was drinking water only by the time of the shy girl getting pissed off, I guess about 11. After that, the evening was pretty much just hanging out and bullshitting.
The rest of the party went smoothly. I stayed with the Mrs. and she stayed with me. We stayed up bullshitting with everybody and that was pretty much that. The next day we all hung out and bullshitted some more, then drove home- getting in a little after 10PM.
All in all a good weekend with only about 1 hour that got weird. The thing is, I'm usually the one who gets drunk and makes an ass out of myself and the Mrs. has to remind me that I'm being a cunt. She is generally goes home embarrassed about my behavior.
So what is the moral of this story? I have often been a complete inconsiderate prick with no idea whatsoever of the effects of my actions upon how she has felt. What a selfish douche I have been.
Anyway, one of her long time blog buddies decided to hold a bloggers party for anybody and everybody who follows her blog. She is a wonderful lady with a great deal more courage than I would dare to have. People who read my blog know way too much about the real me and know me way to well even if you don't know my name. Fortunately, I take great comfort in the fact that nobody actually reads this thing anyway. I currently have two official followers, but they are just two very nice people who claim to follow me so I don't feel left out.
Back to the party. At first, the Mrs. was going to go by herself to hang out with her friends. Then about two weeks before the event started to talk about maybe I would be allowed to go as well, maybe not. I didn't really know until Saturday morning if I was invited or not. As it turns out, we left the older kid at home overnight by herself (gasp! when I was her age I was at home alone all of the time) and we took the younger one with us. It worked out to be a good thing that the older kid stayed home. Read on, oh intrepid one.
We drove for six hours to get to her house in Virginia, arriving at 5 or so on Saturday. We were greeted with a glass of wine and a hug. Nice so far. I tend to have sort of a dominant personality, so I decided to try to stay in the background at this party as I was an honored guest of my wife's (and I was honored to have been invited into this, though nervous about meeting her personal world of friends whom I knew nothing about and had no idea what the expect.)
So the wine is flowing and everybody is talking like old friends. Which they were as they had all been following and commenting on each others blogs for at least a year. They knew each other very, very well and were surprised by the fact.
The Mrs., whom I love dearly, is not one of those people with a brain to mouth filter. She is highly, highly intelligent and does not lie. About anything. Ever. Put a few gallons of wine in her and she begins to reveal things about herself and everybody else around her that make people uncomfortable. She is too right on for most of them to like.
So every bodies getting drunker than shit and then the pipe emerges. As it turns out, the weed was laced with mushrooms- though we didn't know that at the time. I took one hit the Mrs. had two. I was drunk, but had been holding back as I didn't know anybody there and wasn't that comfortable with them (nothing personal, they were all very nice) but the Mrs. was already tore ass up. Then add on the laced weed and she blacked out on her feet.
Here's where the party got interesting.
She saw a 30 something girl sitting in the corner enjoying her buzz. She was by far the weakest person there, so the Mrs. basically attacked. She said, "let go of me," and walked over to the girl, sat down next to her, and then put her head up against her shoulder.
At first I thought. Huh. She's either hitting on that girl over there for me to fuck so she can fuck her new buddy or she's hitting on her for him to fuck or she's working on a threesome or a foursome or some kind of a some. I was possibly (don't really know the truth of the matter) wrong. After a few minutes the shy girl got up and stormed out, the Mrs's face fell, and she got up in chase. I went out as well since I didn't know what had happened- and still don't- but I do know that the Mrs. apologized emphatically and then felt terrible about it for the rest of the evening. The Mrs. then went upstairs to hang out with the host, and then hugged and spoke on the couch upstairs. I wonder if it had something to do with the fact that the girl was so flat chested her boobs went in instead of out?
After that the party pretty much went on with everybody getting fffffffuuuuuucccccckkkkkkeeeeedddddd uuuuuuuupppppppp. I had actually stopped drinking and was drinking water only by the time of the shy girl getting pissed off, I guess about 11. After that, the evening was pretty much just hanging out and bullshitting.
The rest of the party went smoothly. I stayed with the Mrs. and she stayed with me. We stayed up bullshitting with everybody and that was pretty much that. The next day we all hung out and bullshitted some more, then drove home- getting in a little after 10PM.
All in all a good weekend with only about 1 hour that got weird. The thing is, I'm usually the one who gets drunk and makes an ass out of myself and the Mrs. has to remind me that I'm being a cunt. She is generally goes home embarrassed about my behavior.
So what is the moral of this story? I have often been a complete inconsiderate prick with no idea whatsoever of the effects of my actions upon how she has felt. What a selfish douche I have been.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
I'm Drunk
This may shock you. I'm drunk.
Also, I like to play the movie quote game. Fuck you, it's my thing. So here is the quote of the day:
Jay: Do they say who's fuckin' playing us in the movie?
Holden: No, but it's Miramax. So I'm sure it'll be Ben Affleck and Matt Damon. They put those guys in a bunch of movies.
Jay: Who?
Holden: You know, those kids from Good Will Hunting?
Jay: You mean that fuckin' movie with Mork from Ork in it?
Holden: Yeah, I wasn't a big fan either... but Affleck was the bomb in "Phantoms".
Jay: Word, bitch, Phantoms like a mallfucker.
Name that film. Since it seems from a recent twitter conversation that I am growing a mustache for mustache rides I will consider you if you are a mega hot babe with huge hoo haas. And if I get around to growing that mustache.
Hey, so, I'm going to get a tattoo. It's going to be a Chinese dragon. I'm thinking of somehow combining a Chinese Dragon and a tribal design. Still ironing out the details. Any ideas? It'll go on my left shoulder. The significance is that first, I really fucked up my left shoulder in a tragic threesome accident. Okay, not really. Actually it was wrestling in middle school. But to make a long story short I came back from that injury and won state in my class. Fuck you naysayers (there were plenty.)
Next, the body of the dragon represents spiritual growth and ascension. There's more- but I don't really feel like writing about it right now. I'll let you know when I've found the right thing.
Jay: Do they say who's fuckin' playing us in the movie?
Holden: No, but it's Miramax. So I'm sure it'll be Ben Affleck and Matt Damon. They put those guys in a bunch of movies.
Jay: Who?
Holden: You know, those kids from Good Will Hunting?
Jay: You mean that fuckin' movie with Mork from Ork in it?
Holden: Yeah, I wasn't a big fan either... but Affleck was the bomb in "Phantoms".
Jay: Word, bitch, Phantoms like a mallfucker.
Name that film. Since it seems from a recent twitter conversation that I am growing a mustache for mustache rides I will consider you if you are a mega hot babe with huge hoo haas. And if I get around to growing that mustache.
Hey, so, I'm going to get a tattoo. It's going to be a Chinese dragon. I'm thinking of somehow combining a Chinese Dragon and a tribal design. Still ironing out the details. Any ideas? It'll go on my left shoulder. The significance is that first, I really fucked up my left shoulder in a tragic threesome accident. Okay, not really. Actually it was wrestling in middle school. But to make a long story short I came back from that injury and won state in my class. Fuck you naysayers (there were plenty.)
Next, the body of the dragon represents spiritual growth and ascension. There's more- but I don't really feel like writing about it right now. I'll let you know when I've found the right thing.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
$200 Extravaganza of Sordid Lust and Appetizers
Date Night. A Friday tradition. It began innocently enough.
The Mrs. and I decided to go downtown to a little restaurant called Zambria. It's one of those places that serves a vast array of appetizer sized servings of gourmet grub. We decided to start off with a BBQ shrimp dish, some olives, and bread with olive oil. Absolutely delicious.
However, part one of the debauchery was about to begin. I ordered a Manhattan (for those of you who don't know it's basically a sweet martini with whiskey instead of gin) and the wife ordered a glass of wine. Not a big deal accept for the fact that all day I had only eaten a hot dog and she had only eaten an egg salad sandwich. A fact that both of us neglected to consider until we were both almost completely smashed within five minutes. I ordered another manhattan and fuck it- she ordered the whole bottle of wine. An organic chardonnay. Very nice.
Round two of the grub. Mushrooms and soy beans (absolutely incredible), and scallops (I absolutely LOVE scallops and these did not disappoint). Still working on manhattan #2 and wine glass #2 respectively.
This place was set up as sort of a cellar. We got there at around 5:30PM and got a choice seat in the corner. A table for two with a wrap around booth covered in pillows. At a certain point in time I decided to try to take a picture of the room. Not realizing that a blackberry storm has a very, very bright camera light. I flash blinded the whole room. Well done on my part.
Round three of the grub. Pork belly (astonishingly delicious), and mountain stream trout (wow. All I can say). Here comes Manhattan #3 and glass of wine #3 as well. We are completely trashed by now and having the best time ever talking. Mostly about sex. Drunk, laying on pillows, talking about sex, dark room. Things were getting good.
Desert. A piece of flour less chocolate cake. It was so good that we ordered another piece to take home. We finished the bottle of wine. It was now 10:30, so we decided it was time to leave- wink wink, nudge nudge. I almost forgot- at some point in time we both had to go to the bathroom and made out in the hallway. Don't tell anybody. Also, I am presently eating some of that cake as I write. Don't tell anybody.
The bill was $140. We left a $50 tip. Kate was great. We got the hell out of there. We walked back to the parking lot, got to the car where I opened the door for her. But you know, I decided I wasn't ready to do any driving just yet. So I grabbed her and kissed her deeply on the lips. There we are in the parking garage downtown, making out like a couple of high school kids. It was great.
Unfortunately, we came somewhat to our senses and realized that we couldn't quite finish what we had started right there. So we went for a drive. From downtown out to the sticks. Within 20 minutes we found a vacant quiet little, pitch black camp site on the side of the road and stopped. We got out, and opened the back of the SUV and well, we didn't waste any time. We had sex in the car, on the car, next to the car, and everywhere else we could think.
We decided to finish up at home, so we got back into the car to drive. I wasn't wearing a shirt, and I had my pants around my thighs with my seat belt on in the drivers seat. Just as we are pulling out, a police car pulls up. In this light, I decided that maybe road head wasn't the best idea, so I pulled my pants all the way up and drove. If he had pulled up less than a minute earlier he would have caught me with my pants around my ankles and the Mrs. bent over the hood of the car. Would have been quite a sight. We would have had to ask him to jump in to avoid getting arrested I guess.
Wait, I'm still topless. FUCK. That was a $65 shirt. Honey, we're going back. I pulled into a side street and went around back to double check- fortunately I had thrown the shirt into the back of the car. Good. The cop didn't follow us and I didn't want to go back. It's a good thing he couldn't see into my cab when he pulled up. We'd be in jail for public indecency. the worst part is that we wouldn't be in the same cell- so we wouldn't have been able to continue the indecency.
We went home. Upon walking inside, we told the older kid to put our leftovers in to the fridge and we ran back off to the bedroom and locked the door. There we did everything we could think of for about two more hours. A little of this, a little that, some toys, and a whole lot of lube. Good times. Good times.
I hope to god that every date night from here on out is just like this.
The Mrs. and I decided to go downtown to a little restaurant called Zambria. It's one of those places that serves a vast array of appetizer sized servings of gourmet grub. We decided to start off with a BBQ shrimp dish, some olives, and bread with olive oil. Absolutely delicious.
However, part one of the debauchery was about to begin. I ordered a Manhattan (for those of you who don't know it's basically a sweet martini with whiskey instead of gin) and the wife ordered a glass of wine. Not a big deal accept for the fact that all day I had only eaten a hot dog and she had only eaten an egg salad sandwich. A fact that both of us neglected to consider until we were both almost completely smashed within five minutes. I ordered another manhattan and fuck it- she ordered the whole bottle of wine. An organic chardonnay. Very nice.
Round two of the grub. Mushrooms and soy beans (absolutely incredible), and scallops (I absolutely LOVE scallops and these did not disappoint). Still working on manhattan #2 and wine glass #2 respectively.
This place was set up as sort of a cellar. We got there at around 5:30PM and got a choice seat in the corner. A table for two with a wrap around booth covered in pillows. At a certain point in time I decided to try to take a picture of the room. Not realizing that a blackberry storm has a very, very bright camera light. I flash blinded the whole room. Well done on my part.
Round three of the grub. Pork belly (astonishingly delicious), and mountain stream trout (wow. All I can say). Here comes Manhattan #3 and glass of wine #3 as well. We are completely trashed by now and having the best time ever talking. Mostly about sex. Drunk, laying on pillows, talking about sex, dark room. Things were getting good.
Desert. A piece of flour less chocolate cake. It was so good that we ordered another piece to take home. We finished the bottle of wine. It was now 10:30, so we decided it was time to leave- wink wink, nudge nudge. I almost forgot- at some point in time we both had to go to the bathroom and made out in the hallway. Don't tell anybody. Also, I am presently eating some of that cake as I write. Don't tell anybody.
The bill was $140. We left a $50 tip. Kate was great. We got the hell out of there. We walked back to the parking lot, got to the car where I opened the door for her. But you know, I decided I wasn't ready to do any driving just yet. So I grabbed her and kissed her deeply on the lips. There we are in the parking garage downtown, making out like a couple of high school kids. It was great.
Unfortunately, we came somewhat to our senses and realized that we couldn't quite finish what we had started right there. So we went for a drive. From downtown out to the sticks. Within 20 minutes we found a vacant quiet little, pitch black camp site on the side of the road and stopped. We got out, and opened the back of the SUV and well, we didn't waste any time. We had sex in the car, on the car, next to the car, and everywhere else we could think.
We decided to finish up at home, so we got back into the car to drive. I wasn't wearing a shirt, and I had my pants around my thighs with my seat belt on in the drivers seat. Just as we are pulling out, a police car pulls up. In this light, I decided that maybe road head wasn't the best idea, so I pulled my pants all the way up and drove. If he had pulled up less than a minute earlier he would have caught me with my pants around my ankles and the Mrs. bent over the hood of the car. Would have been quite a sight. We would have had to ask him to jump in to avoid getting arrested I guess.
Wait, I'm still topless. FUCK. That was a $65 shirt. Honey, we're going back. I pulled into a side street and went around back to double check- fortunately I had thrown the shirt into the back of the car. Good. The cop didn't follow us and I didn't want to go back. It's a good thing he couldn't see into my cab when he pulled up. We'd be in jail for public indecency. the worst part is that we wouldn't be in the same cell- so we wouldn't have been able to continue the indecency.
We went home. Upon walking inside, we told the older kid to put our leftovers in to the fridge and we ran back off to the bedroom and locked the door. There we did everything we could think of for about two more hours. A little of this, a little that, some toys, and a whole lot of lube. Good times. Good times.
I hope to god that every date night from here on out is just like this.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Huh...
We all create personas. The other day I was just about to post something on this blog that I thought was really funny. I read it aloud and got "you know that the people who read that blog think you are sensitive and won't like what you have written." So I edited it out of the post. What the fuck is that shit about?
I created this blog for one simple reason. To post what ever the fuck I wanted. Damn everybody. Now all of a sudden, by expressing my actual thoughts I have built something that is a specific persona? I have been typecast? Well. Fuck you. I am going to write whatever the fuck I want for me. If you would like to read what I have to say please do. If you don't like it then you can go fuck a duck. Be careful- they are mean bastards.
Let's face it. I'm crass. I'm an asshole. I say things in a sarcastic fashion designed to be funny to me- but most people don't' really get where I'm coming from. I don't care. I spend most of my life being something for where ever I am- but very little of it being what I actually am as a whole.
Therefore, I shall reassert myself. I am going to write whatever I Goddamn well please. If you like it that's fine, if you don't that's fine too. But quite frankly, I have nowhere else to speak.
I created this blog for one simple reason. To post what ever the fuck I wanted. Damn everybody. Now all of a sudden, by expressing my actual thoughts I have built something that is a specific persona? I have been typecast? Well. Fuck you. I am going to write whatever the fuck I want for me. If you would like to read what I have to say please do. If you don't like it then you can go fuck a duck. Be careful- they are mean bastards.
Let's face it. I'm crass. I'm an asshole. I say things in a sarcastic fashion designed to be funny to me- but most people don't' really get where I'm coming from. I don't care. I spend most of my life being something for where ever I am- but very little of it being what I actually am as a whole.
Therefore, I shall reassert myself. I am going to write whatever I Goddamn well please. If you like it that's fine, if you don't that's fine too. But quite frankly, I have nowhere else to speak.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
On Real Sexuality
Women are absolutely incredible. You know, our society likes girls in their late teens and early twenties. They are nice and firm and all- but they have yet to learn the art of being a women. They have yet to learn to be sensuous. They have yet to learn to smile just right, to have the depth of personal awareness in their eyes. They are but playful dryads, frolicking about with no real thought nor intention beyond the pleasure of the moment. There is nothing wrong with that, in fact it is necessary to grow, but it is just sex- not sexuality. A woman understands the art of sexuality. A woman understands exactly what they are getting into, what they like, what they need. A woman may not be as firm, may have a few more wrinkles, may even have a couple of extra pounds- but these are not things that you look past the see beauty. These things are beauty.
A woman understands joy and laughter, pain and disappointment. A woman understands pride and shame. These are the things that make her intelligent, worldly, and experienced. Every wrinkle, every curve, every little quirk of her body makes a woman beautiful. These are the things that show that she has earned the right to be a woman. These are the things that take the beauty of her youth and compliment it with understanding and knowledge. A real woman has been broken and rebuilt a thousand times over. This experienced woman is truly sexy.
This is the woman who has depth in her eyes, awareness in her smile, and deep passion in her body. This is the woman that understands sexuality, understands how to move and just where to touch. She knows exactly what you want and how to almost give it to you- but then take it away. She knows how to open herself to you, but only just- just enough for you to want more, and never get it. These are not the silly games of a silly girl- this is just what a woman is. She has no time for games, she simply is sensuality, she is sexuality. Is it any wonder that men want to stare? Is it any wonder that we are driven completely mad by the desire to be with you? Is it any wonder that you turn our heads as you walk by?
When an intelligent, educated, attractive man is visibly enamored by your beauty, lustfully admiring your body, you should feel complimented- not offended. He sees more depth than you might think. He sees the way you walk, the way your hips slide under your dress. He sees the subtle hint of your nipples- even through the sweater that you don’t think he can. Don’t be embarrassed- you are magnificent. He sees the slight fold between your legs, barely hinting at things left unseen. He sees how much care you have put into your hair, your nails, your make up- but he also knows about what is underneath and that is what is truly sexy to him. Your attempt hide the true beauty of your face is part of the allure, part of what makes him really want to see you.
He wants to catch your eye, because he wants to look into them. He wants to see you. He smells the way you smell, from further away than you think. He wonders what you really smell like. He wants nothing more than to be with you, the complete person that you are, if just for a little while.
A woman understands joy and laughter, pain and disappointment. A woman understands pride and shame. These are the things that make her intelligent, worldly, and experienced. Every wrinkle, every curve, every little quirk of her body makes a woman beautiful. These are the things that show that she has earned the right to be a woman. These are the things that take the beauty of her youth and compliment it with understanding and knowledge. A real woman has been broken and rebuilt a thousand times over. This experienced woman is truly sexy.
This is the woman who has depth in her eyes, awareness in her smile, and deep passion in her body. This is the woman that understands sexuality, understands how to move and just where to touch. She knows exactly what you want and how to almost give it to you- but then take it away. She knows how to open herself to you, but only just- just enough for you to want more, and never get it. These are not the silly games of a silly girl- this is just what a woman is. She has no time for games, she simply is sensuality, she is sexuality. Is it any wonder that men want to stare? Is it any wonder that we are driven completely mad by the desire to be with you? Is it any wonder that you turn our heads as you walk by?
When an intelligent, educated, attractive man is visibly enamored by your beauty, lustfully admiring your body, you should feel complimented- not offended. He sees more depth than you might think. He sees the way you walk, the way your hips slide under your dress. He sees the subtle hint of your nipples- even through the sweater that you don’t think he can. Don’t be embarrassed- you are magnificent. He sees the slight fold between your legs, barely hinting at things left unseen. He sees how much care you have put into your hair, your nails, your make up- but he also knows about what is underneath and that is what is truly sexy to him. Your attempt hide the true beauty of your face is part of the allure, part of what makes him really want to see you.
He wants to catch your eye, because he wants to look into them. He wants to see you. He smells the way you smell, from further away than you think. He wonders what you really smell like. He wants nothing more than to be with you, the complete person that you are, if just for a little while.
You Can’t Kill Me Mother Fuckers!!!!!!
Samuel L. Jackson. The Long Kiss Goodnight. Great Movie.
You know how some people are able to take whatever life throws at them and always have a positive view of things? I follow a tweeterer who strikes me as being that way- I really enjoy reading her tweets for that very reason. She seems like a wonderful person with a generally positive life view. Do not mistake her positive outlook for naiveté nor foolishness. Other people take whatever life gives them and give up because it’s too hard.
I’m neither of those people. I’m more the “FUCK YOU MOTHER FUCKERS! YOU CAN’T FUCKING KILL ME YOU GOD DAMN SHIT FLINGIN’ BABOON!” Or something to that effect. I’m more of a dark side of the force kinda guy when it comes to dealing with life in general. Life is pain. Life is hard. Bad shit happens to good people. Not because the universe is cruel, not because it’s kind. It just is. I firmly believe that your ability to look life square in the eye and spit in it’s face is a key component to getting along. This doesn’t mean that you to be a prick. Cruelty is the mark of an immature selfish mind. When a tiger kills it is not out of cruelty. It is because that is what tigers do. It is because the tiger must survive. Nothing more.
It is through mastering our passions that we can become free of them. This means that they must be explored. Take sexuality for instance. Why is sex considered taboo? It is a natural process. It is what we do, what we are made for. Sex is in fact our sole purpose in life. The purpose of any species is to continue, to survive. So why should the process of continuation not be perfected? Why should it be hidden? Sex should be celebrated, explored, shared, and perfected. To do anything else would be to deny what we are made to do. As the actual purpose of our existence, sex is more than just procreation. It has deeper meaning. Sex can be recreational, it can be passionate, it can be an expression of love, it can be an expression of hate. But no matter what it must be personally explored. To hide from it is to hide from who and what you actually are. If you exist in a physical body you are a sexual being.
Here I sit down at the horse farm. Listening to the wife talk to her mommy. Watching the four year old play with the dish water. Hello Kitty cartoons playing on the tv. Got laid this morning. Life is good.
Got laid this morning. It was a catastrophe. I completely fucked it up. I didn’t do enough foreplay and then I finished before she did. Terrible and unacceptable. A man’s worth in bed is measured by his ability to please his partner. She deserves better from me. I shall aspire to do better next time. In fact, I always aspire to do better- this time it just didn’t work out. She started running her finger nails up the side of my back and I went off like a loaded gun. Whoops. Can’t win ‘em all I guess.
You know how some people are able to take whatever life throws at them and always have a positive view of things? I follow a tweeterer who strikes me as being that way- I really enjoy reading her tweets for that very reason. She seems like a wonderful person with a generally positive life view. Do not mistake her positive outlook for naiveté nor foolishness. Other people take whatever life gives them and give up because it’s too hard.
I’m neither of those people. I’m more the “FUCK YOU MOTHER FUCKERS! YOU CAN’T FUCKING KILL ME YOU GOD DAMN SHIT FLINGIN’ BABOON!” Or something to that effect. I’m more of a dark side of the force kinda guy when it comes to dealing with life in general. Life is pain. Life is hard. Bad shit happens to good people. Not because the universe is cruel, not because it’s kind. It just is. I firmly believe that your ability to look life square in the eye and spit in it’s face is a key component to getting along. This doesn’t mean that you to be a prick. Cruelty is the mark of an immature selfish mind. When a tiger kills it is not out of cruelty. It is because that is what tigers do. It is because the tiger must survive. Nothing more.
It is through mastering our passions that we can become free of them. This means that they must be explored. Take sexuality for instance. Why is sex considered taboo? It is a natural process. It is what we do, what we are made for. Sex is in fact our sole purpose in life. The purpose of any species is to continue, to survive. So why should the process of continuation not be perfected? Why should it be hidden? Sex should be celebrated, explored, shared, and perfected. To do anything else would be to deny what we are made to do. As the actual purpose of our existence, sex is more than just procreation. It has deeper meaning. Sex can be recreational, it can be passionate, it can be an expression of love, it can be an expression of hate. But no matter what it must be personally explored. To hide from it is to hide from who and what you actually are. If you exist in a physical body you are a sexual being.
Here I sit down at the horse farm. Listening to the wife talk to her mommy. Watching the four year old play with the dish water. Hello Kitty cartoons playing on the tv. Got laid this morning. Life is good.
Got laid this morning. It was a catastrophe. I completely fucked it up. I didn’t do enough foreplay and then I finished before she did. Terrible and unacceptable. A man’s worth in bed is measured by his ability to please his partner. She deserves better from me. I shall aspire to do better next time. In fact, I always aspire to do better- this time it just didn’t work out. She started running her finger nails up the side of my back and I went off like a loaded gun. Whoops. Can’t win ‘em all I guess.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Now for the real post...
I picked up an audio cd called marriage fitness by Mort Fertel (sp?). It actually has some pretty good stuff in it- the main theme being to "put love first." It sounds cooler when he says it. From me any statement about love comes out rather lame.
As a man raised in the southeastern US that played sports I was always taught to be strong, tough, and that men should swallow their feelings to get the job done. Well, I've been unknowingly following this conditioning for years and it isn't working. I work my ass off and sacrifice so much for those that I am supposed to provide for only to realize that they seem to think that I mostly go off and play all day. Jesus, that would be great- but no. To be honest, if it wasn't for the wife and kids I would still be a happy ex patriot in China or Japan. I honestly never would have come back. But China is no place to raise a family. Well, unless you're Chinese.
Anyway, enough whining. Back to Mort. He has eight suggestions for marriage fitness. My favorites are:
1. Talk about non logistical stuff 5 times a day for at least a minute each time.
2. Take the time at least once a week to talk face to face about non logistical matters.
3. Touch lovingly five times a day.
4. Give 3 times a day to your spouse. Doesn't have to be a thing.
5. Schedule quarterly love retreats with only your spouse.
I have begun implementing this program. I am probably violating his copyright stuff by posting this- but I think it's awesome. You should buy it.
I am going to attempt to take the mrs off on a love retreat this week. We'll see how it goes.
As a man raised in the southeastern US that played sports I was always taught to be strong, tough, and that men should swallow their feelings to get the job done. Well, I've been unknowingly following this conditioning for years and it isn't working. I work my ass off and sacrifice so much for those that I am supposed to provide for only to realize that they seem to think that I mostly go off and play all day. Jesus, that would be great- but no. To be honest, if it wasn't for the wife and kids I would still be a happy ex patriot in China or Japan. I honestly never would have come back. But China is no place to raise a family. Well, unless you're Chinese.
Anyway, enough whining. Back to Mort. He has eight suggestions for marriage fitness. My favorites are:
1. Talk about non logistical stuff 5 times a day for at least a minute each time.
2. Take the time at least once a week to talk face to face about non logistical matters.
3. Touch lovingly five times a day.
4. Give 3 times a day to your spouse. Doesn't have to be a thing.
5. Schedule quarterly love retreats with only your spouse.
I have begun implementing this program. I am probably violating his copyright stuff by posting this- but I think it's awesome. You should buy it.
I am going to attempt to take the mrs off on a love retreat this week. We'll see how it goes.
My Take on Swinging.
Have you ever wanted to fuck one of your wifes friends? I want to want to fuck one of my wifes friends. The thing is, none of them are sexy to me. It would be great to have somebody to spank it to that I know. Just sayin. But alas, I'm stuck with pie in the sky beauties that are rather boring.
Honestly, I dont even think my wife would care if I wanted to fuck one of her friends. I need to find a way to get her hotter friends. She has one who is completely fucking nuts. And this from a guy who has a theory that all women are crazy and all guys are stupid. The question is does her crazy match your stupid? But no, she is like hanging from the monkey bars drooling on herself batshit crazy as a bag of cats. I'm just not there yet.
Other friends are great people- but obese. Obese chicks don't make me want to flog the dolphin. Also, who wants to fantasize about somebody who is a generally nice person? She's not the kind of girl that you can dress in chaps and a girdle, tie to the ceiling fan and stick your winky in every time she flings by.
Then there is the friend who is always wanting to keep up with the Joneses. What the fuck is that shit? And why is nothing in our neighborhood ever good enough for her? I'm glad they moved. Her husband is a nice guy- but I want to punch her in the face. That might interfere with my chances of doing dirty things to her behind his back. Unless she likes getting punched in the face- which she might- but that's not really my thing.
Honestly, I dont even think my wife would care if I wanted to fuck one of her friends. I need to find a way to get her hotter friends. She has one who is completely fucking nuts. And this from a guy who has a theory that all women are crazy and all guys are stupid. The question is does her crazy match your stupid? But no, she is like hanging from the monkey bars drooling on herself batshit crazy as a bag of cats. I'm just not there yet.
Other friends are great people- but obese. Obese chicks don't make me want to flog the dolphin. Also, who wants to fantasize about somebody who is a generally nice person? She's not the kind of girl that you can dress in chaps and a girdle, tie to the ceiling fan and stick your winky in every time she flings by.
Then there is the friend who is always wanting to keep up with the Joneses. What the fuck is that shit? And why is nothing in our neighborhood ever good enough for her? I'm glad they moved. Her husband is a nice guy- but I want to punch her in the face. That might interfere with my chances of doing dirty things to her behind his back. Unless she likes getting punched in the face- which she might- but that's not really my thing.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Ouch.....My Head.....
Right now I'm getting a lap dance from a four year old. This is not my idea of a good time.
There seems to be a law of the universe that Einstein forgot:
When a charged particle moves through a magnetic field B, it feels a force F given by the cross product:
(F x V)q = Delta B
F= Child's foot
q= Electrical charge of the foot
V= Velocity vector
B= My balls
Thereby proving that a child's foot is in fact magnetically drawn to a man's testicles.
or
Newton's second law
Lex II: Mutationem motus proportionalem esse vi motrici impressae, et fieri secundum lineam rectam qua vis illa imprimitur. The change of momentum of a body is proportional to the impulse impressed on the body, and happens along the straight line on which that impulse is impressed. A small child's impulse is to kick men in the balls.
F= MA
F= How much force the foot hits my balls with
M= The mass of the child hitting said balls
A= The amazing amount of acceleration that said child can develop in a very short distance.
However, that isn't what I was talking about when I said Ouch, My Head.
Fearless and intrepid followers, this may come as a shock given what you know about me. I have a hangover. Last night was wonderful and I do not regret having said hangover in the least. Please sit back and enjoy my tail. I mean tale.
It all started when I got off of work early. No clients showed up so I left. The girls were at Goodwill (a surprisingly great place to shop) looking for Easter dresses so I met them there. We then went to Applebee's for dinner as it is across the street from the Goodwill.
The wife and I shared a meal and had a few drinks. We had a great conversation about who knows what and I mildly flirted with the obese waitress. Then we came home to tweet and facebook- sharing each others comments as we wrote them, laughing and being silly. The game of course being who can say the cleverest thing.
Then we went back to the bedroom. I'll leave the rest to your imagination, but the hour and a half romp in the hay that followed was the legendary stuff of legend. I'm a little sore this morning and I like it. This is not uncommon for us.
We've broken three beds in the past couple of years. So we got a metal framed bed since wood is too fragile. The bed hasn't broken- but I did give her sexual whiplash a couple of weeks ago. Now I have to be careful not to fuck her so hard since it still hurts. I have to do more teasing these days. At least for a little bit. Last night she only came two or three times. I generally prefer five or six more in an hour and a half time frame. But I'll take what I can get.
In conclusion I for one had a wonderful night.
There seems to be a law of the universe that Einstein forgot:
When a charged particle moves through a magnetic field B, it feels a force F given by the cross product:
(F x V)q = Delta B
F= Child's foot
q= Electrical charge of the foot
V= Velocity vector
B= My balls
Thereby proving that a child's foot is in fact magnetically drawn to a man's testicles.
or
Newton's second law
Lex II: Mutationem motus proportionalem esse vi motrici impressae, et fieri secundum lineam rectam qua vis illa imprimitur. The change of momentum of a body is proportional to the impulse impressed on the body, and happens along the straight line on which that impulse is impressed. A small child's impulse is to kick men in the balls.
F= MA
F= How much force the foot hits my balls with
M= The mass of the child hitting said balls
A= The amazing amount of acceleration that said child can develop in a very short distance.
However, that isn't what I was talking about when I said Ouch, My Head.
Fearless and intrepid followers, this may come as a shock given what you know about me. I have a hangover. Last night was wonderful and I do not regret having said hangover in the least. Please sit back and enjoy my tail. I mean tale.
It all started when I got off of work early. No clients showed up so I left. The girls were at Goodwill (a surprisingly great place to shop) looking for Easter dresses so I met them there. We then went to Applebee's for dinner as it is across the street from the Goodwill.
The wife and I shared a meal and had a few drinks. We had a great conversation about who knows what and I mildly flirted with the obese waitress. Then we came home to tweet and facebook- sharing each others comments as we wrote them, laughing and being silly. The game of course being who can say the cleverest thing.
Then we went back to the bedroom. I'll leave the rest to your imagination, but the hour and a half romp in the hay that followed was the legendary stuff of legend. I'm a little sore this morning and I like it. This is not uncommon for us.
We've broken three beds in the past couple of years. So we got a metal framed bed since wood is too fragile. The bed hasn't broken- but I did give her sexual whiplash a couple of weeks ago. Now I have to be careful not to fuck her so hard since it still hurts. I have to do more teasing these days. At least for a little bit. Last night she only came two or three times. I generally prefer five or six more in an hour and a half time frame. But I'll take what I can get.
In conclusion I for one had a wonderful night.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Spring Break Vacation, here we come!
Going to the Gainesville Horse Farm for vacation.
I've never really been a horse person. You know how some people just seem to take a shine to horses? Not me. In fact, I'm not really a pet person at all. Don't get me wrong, I like animals- I just don't really want to have one. The girls have various pets- presently a cat named Reepacheep, a fish named Red, and a chihuahua named Opal- and I don't mind helping out with them. But if left to my own devices I wouldn't have any pets. Sure as hell not a horse.
However, I do like to be at the horse farm as I enjoy the scenery. Horses are great so long as I don't have to do anything but look at them.
It's hard to slow down to the pace of absolute zero- takes me about two days to do it. I have to bring some work with me so I can be lived with, but none of my usual 12 hour days.
Maybe I'll see if there's some horny little "horse lady" that wants to get frisky behind the barn. That would be fun. I've fantasized about shagging a hotty in the barn for a while. I can't talk the wife into it- not clean enough she says. That's part of the point silly girl.
But all is not lost. We do like to partake in other activities.
Eagle Rare is my favorite sipping bourbon. We like to spend at least one evening sitting on the back porch smoking cigars.
Also, my nephew lives nearby. He has started taking karate- I really want to come by and see what he's learning. I also want to do a drive through at UF. I admit to being a dirty oldish man. College girls in the summer time. Running around. Playing frisbee. Walking to classes.
It is so wrong that I want to admire the beauty of the female form? The work of art that is woman? The sensuous beauty. The seductive allure. The playful smile. The captivating smell. What's not to like?
Shit, who am I kidding. If I wanted those things I would look at a 3o or 40 something woman. Driving through a college campus is strictly to look at shaking titties and asses. A 21 year old girl doesn't know what she's doing. She doesn't know the art of being a woman.
Oh yeah, I have begun a new sexual drought. I am now on day two. The other day the wife got nice and drunk and decided that she did in fact want to partake in a little nookie. She entered the bedroom and offered forth those delicate words that all southern men know so well
"I'm so drunk...." She is not without a sense of humor.
And the rest is history. A memory that I like to revisit often, but history none the less.
Anyway- this shall be my vacation!
I've never really been a horse person. You know how some people just seem to take a shine to horses? Not me. In fact, I'm not really a pet person at all. Don't get me wrong, I like animals- I just don't really want to have one. The girls have various pets- presently a cat named Reepacheep, a fish named Red, and a chihuahua named Opal- and I don't mind helping out with them. But if left to my own devices I wouldn't have any pets. Sure as hell not a horse.
However, I do like to be at the horse farm as I enjoy the scenery. Horses are great so long as I don't have to do anything but look at them.
It's hard to slow down to the pace of absolute zero- takes me about two days to do it. I have to bring some work with me so I can be lived with, but none of my usual 12 hour days.
Maybe I'll see if there's some horny little "horse lady" that wants to get frisky behind the barn. That would be fun. I've fantasized about shagging a hotty in the barn for a while. I can't talk the wife into it- not clean enough she says. That's part of the point silly girl.
But all is not lost. We do like to partake in other activities.
Eagle Rare is my favorite sipping bourbon. We like to spend at least one evening sitting on the back porch smoking cigars.
Also, my nephew lives nearby. He has started taking karate- I really want to come by and see what he's learning. I also want to do a drive through at UF. I admit to being a dirty oldish man. College girls in the summer time. Running around. Playing frisbee. Walking to classes.
It is so wrong that I want to admire the beauty of the female form? The work of art that is woman? The sensuous beauty. The seductive allure. The playful smile. The captivating smell. What's not to like?
Shit, who am I kidding. If I wanted those things I would look at a 3o or 40 something woman. Driving through a college campus is strictly to look at shaking titties and asses. A 21 year old girl doesn't know what she's doing. She doesn't know the art of being a woman.
Oh yeah, I have begun a new sexual drought. I am now on day two. The other day the wife got nice and drunk and decided that she did in fact want to partake in a little nookie. She entered the bedroom and offered forth those delicate words that all southern men know so well
"I'm so drunk...." She is not without a sense of humor.
And the rest is history. A memory that I like to revisit often, but history none the less.
Anyway- this shall be my vacation!
Monday, April 6, 2009
Asses and Elbows
Check out our new digs.
Exhibit A:
New Jeans: $100.00
Maid Service for clean floor: $150 (notice that you can notice the floor.)
Monthly cost of Pre K for wifely sanity: $180
Wife works her ass off to loose unwanted pounds: No money, lots of hard work and discipline on her part.
Smokin' hot wife with a totally sweet ass: Priceless. Well, not really- but worth every damn penny, moment of discipline, and then some.
Wife smiles at me when she walks over to me in a store: Absolutely Priceless. And, WOW.
Exhibit B:
New shirt: $35 (for a fucking T shirt. Jesus.)
New Pants: $100
New belt buckle: $25
New shoes: $20 at walmart (yeah- I can upgrade here a bit.)
The look on every woman's face when I walk by and smile at them: I have a boner.
The smile my wife gives me when she walks over to me in the store: Absolutely priceless. And I have a boner. I get a beautiful, intelligent, funny, and incredibly sexy woman. Who likes sex and cooking. Fuck yeah!
Well, I'm working on it. I know that buying her stuff won't win her back to me, but it sure as hell is a start. I also purchased some new aftershave with her approval. I want to be sexy to her again. I want to rekindle a brand new romance. As silly as it seems, I think changing my look and smell will help. Plus I like it anyway.
I know, I'm pathetic. Don't care. Several of my friends are in their 60's and divorced 1-3 times. Each one of them is this way because they chose to nurture their careers over their relationships and none of them are happy. Wealthy, but not happy. I think I can do both. Build a brand new relationship with my wife and still be successful. I think that by focusing on her first I will in fact be more successful in business anyway. Thumbs up.
Now I'm taking the family to Florida for Easter. We're going to Gainesville for the weekend, coming back for my court date on Wednesday, and then we're going to go somewhere else. I don't know where. We might just get in the fucking car and drive. We might even come back....
Exhibit A:
New Jeans: $100.00
Maid Service for clean floor: $150 (notice that you can notice the floor.)
Monthly cost of Pre K for wifely sanity: $180
Wife works her ass off to loose unwanted pounds: No money, lots of hard work and discipline on her part.
Smokin' hot wife with a totally sweet ass: Priceless. Well, not really- but worth every damn penny, moment of discipline, and then some.
Wife smiles at me when she walks over to me in a store: Absolutely Priceless. And, WOW.
Exhibit B:
New shirt: $35 (for a fucking T shirt. Jesus.)
New Pants: $100
New belt buckle: $25
New shoes: $20 at walmart (yeah- I can upgrade here a bit.)
The look on every woman's face when I walk by and smile at them: I have a boner.
The smile my wife gives me when she walks over to me in the store: Absolutely priceless. And I have a boner. I get a beautiful, intelligent, funny, and incredibly sexy woman. Who likes sex and cooking. Fuck yeah!
Well, I'm working on it. I know that buying her stuff won't win her back to me, but it sure as hell is a start. I also purchased some new aftershave with her approval. I want to be sexy to her again. I want to rekindle a brand new romance. As silly as it seems, I think changing my look and smell will help. Plus I like it anyway.
I know, I'm pathetic. Don't care. Several of my friends are in their 60's and divorced 1-3 times. Each one of them is this way because they chose to nurture their careers over their relationships and none of them are happy. Wealthy, but not happy. I think I can do both. Build a brand new relationship with my wife and still be successful. I think that by focusing on her first I will in fact be more successful in business anyway. Thumbs up.
Now I'm taking the family to Florida for Easter. We're going to Gainesville for the weekend, coming back for my court date on Wednesday, and then we're going to go somewhere else. I don't know where. We might just get in the fucking car and drive. We might even come back....
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Welcome to Sunday Morning
So here I sit on Sunday Morning. Sick but recovering child is finished blowing chunks. Now she is up to her usual antics. This is good.
This picture has no bearing on anything in particular but if you're like me you were a big Mr. T fan back when he was cool. I know I was a big A Team fan back in the day. It's remotely interesting to me that now I have little to no interest in tv. I sometimes try to follow a show or two- but I generally only last a couple of episodes before I lose interest.
Day 4 of my nookie dry spell. Not sure what to do with myself. I do tai chi religiously every morning and have for 20 years, but it's just not getting me off in that special let me pin you to the bed while you buck and scream in a good way kind of way. The Mrs. is even wearing some super sexy new clothes just to torment me. Nothing fancy- just jeans and a t shirt- but still.
Last night we were watching a show on sex. The basic premise of it was that love and lust take place in different parts of the brain and are induced by different chemicals. No shit. I've been a man for a long time now and it is very clear to me the difference between love and lust. It's simple- love takes place in the chest and head while lust takes place elsewhere.
This picture has no bearing on anything in particular but if you're like me you were a big Mr. T fan back when he was cool. I know I was a big A Team fan back in the day. It's remotely interesting to me that now I have little to no interest in tv. I sometimes try to follow a show or two- but I generally only last a couple of episodes before I lose interest.
Day 4 of my nookie dry spell. Not sure what to do with myself. I do tai chi religiously every morning and have for 20 years, but it's just not getting me off in that special let me pin you to the bed while you buck and scream in a good way kind of way. The Mrs. is even wearing some super sexy new clothes just to torment me. Nothing fancy- just jeans and a t shirt- but still.
Last night we were watching a show on sex. The basic premise of it was that love and lust take place in different parts of the brain and are induced by different chemicals. No shit. I've been a man for a long time now and it is very clear to me the difference between love and lust. It's simple- love takes place in the chest and head while lust takes place elsewhere.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
The problem is...
The answer to your problems in not between your legs.
It is not in a new house.
It is not in a new pair of shoes.
It is not in a new city.
It is not in a new lover.
The problem is in you,
and therefore the only place that the answer exists is within you as well.
...........
Or that could all be bullshit and the answer is in fact betweeen your legs. I'm not willing to rule that one out. But the shopping and moving and stuff- nah.
It is not in a new house.
It is not in a new pair of shoes.
It is not in a new city.
It is not in a new lover.
The problem is in you,
and therefore the only place that the answer exists is within you as well.
...........
Or that could all be bullshit and the answer is in fact betweeen your legs. I'm not willing to rule that one out. But the shopping and moving and stuff- nah.
Jesus Fucking Christ
I guess I shouldn't say that in front of the kids. But this blog is not about what I say in front of the kids, now is it. This blog is about my unedited thoughts, feelings, and random musings. So FUCK FUCKITY FUCK FUCK FUCK. I'm just sayin'.
I overheard somebody at the store tell somebody else to not use the Lord's name in vain the other day at the store. This has been brewing around in my greasy little brain for a few days now. I'm drinking a cappuccino. That was unrelated.
I overheard somebody at the store tell somebody else to not use the Lord's name in vain the other day at the store. This has been brewing around in my greasy little brain for a few days now. I'm drinking a cappuccino. That was unrelated.
Back to this Lord's name in vain thing. The universe is. It is like a giant sea with inumerable variables and possibilities. It is also completely logical, but there are so many variables in the equation it is impossible to completely predict everything. Harsh, unforgiving, but logical. Given this concept I don't think that the universe cares what I say. I can use the lord's name in vain as much as I want to goddamnit and it doesn't matter.
However, what does matter is what effect such statements have on me. Are you the kind of person that saying Jesus Fucking Christ makes you feel a certain way? If so, then you will think and therefore behave in a certain way. This behavioral pattern will take you on a certain path and this path effects and is effected by the universe. You are in some way in like with or against the flow of the universe.
What I'm getting at is that there is no finite rule here. It depends completely upon your perspective.
Friday, April 3, 2009
So let's talk about titties.
I like titties.
Because titties are cool.
I like titties, they make me drool.
I like titties.
The way they look.
Because titties are cool.
I like titties, they make me drool.
I like titties.
The way they look.
I like titties, more than reading a book.
I like titties, the bigger the better.
I like titties, the bigger the better.
I like titties, even in the ghetto.
I like titties, more than you know.
I like titties, your shirt has to go.
I like titties, show them to me.
I like titties, wait- I've got to go pee.
So....what now?
So. Here I sit. I haven't blogged in a bit. Fortunately, nobody reads this so it's not that big of a deal. Since I am sitting here half drunk, I have a few things to reveal to those of you who are not reading. First, I really, really like sweet martinis. Don't let the sweet part fool you- they are not a girly drink.
Next, naked women are pretty damn awesome in my opinion. I really like hard nipples. What can I say? I'm a realist. Also, I like real womens breasts. Not fake. Not those perky things of an 18 year old child. I mean real breasts.
Next, I have written and erased probably five different blogs since my last posting. Chicken? Maybe. Cowardly? Definitely. I had a lot on my mind as you can surmise from the previous blogs. By the way, as for that I have come to a conclusion. I am going to do everything within my power to change my focus to my marriage. Previously I was focused soley on business. I do not presume to make massive changes with who and what I am- I don't think it's really possible. But I can and have changed my focus. I am now focusing on my marriage. If my wife is too broken down and does not feel the same way I understand but it is out of my hands. She will make the choices that she will make and that is that.
If all she wants to do is go out and shag somebody else and then come home to have a happy marriage and family life that's fine. Hell, me too. I wonder if women can treat sex like men do? Just sex. Everything that everybody has ever told me would say no. But I don't really have any idea. Once again, I'll have to play it by ear. If that is something that she can do I don't give a damn. Any hot chicks interested in a good shagging with me, by the way?
In that regard, I'm concerned that I no longer have the ability to pick up women. I used to be something of a ladies man when I was younger- at least finding a charming young woman for the evening was never a problem for me. Do I still have that ability? I don't know.
So many questions. So few answers. I feel like a punch drunk boxer. Dead kid (uppercut- I'm staggering and can't see straight), business floods in sewage (hook to the head- I go down and get up at the eight count for no reason), best friend fucks me over in business like a sheep behind a fence (ear bit- you fucking cockbag!), bankruptcy (jab, jab, jab, jab- who the fuck is throwing those?) Okay....we're all clear....I see the light at the end of the tunnel...life is shaping up....I become more involved with the family...I implement a friday date night...what else can I do to get life in order? Things are looking up....oh no Tony, you may not have a pony! BAM! "You know, I love you but I'm not in love with you." "I think I might want to leave you because you don't contribute to our realationship."
Laying down in the ring looking up at the lights. Everybody is yelling something. I don't fucking care. Do I want to even get up? The reason I have kept on getting up every other time is now gone.
Jesus Fucking Christ. Now she is home and everything is hunky dorey. Has been for two weeks now. What the fuck does that mean? She says she wants to leave me and then now we are great? BULLSHIT. What the fuck is going on here?
Again, all I can do is work on developing my relationship skills. If she wants to stay with me great, I would be happy. If she does not, that is not great- but I understand. Time will tell.
Next, naked women are pretty damn awesome in my opinion. I really like hard nipples. What can I say? I'm a realist. Also, I like real womens breasts. Not fake. Not those perky things of an 18 year old child. I mean real breasts.
Next, I have written and erased probably five different blogs since my last posting. Chicken? Maybe. Cowardly? Definitely. I had a lot on my mind as you can surmise from the previous blogs. By the way, as for that I have come to a conclusion. I am going to do everything within my power to change my focus to my marriage. Previously I was focused soley on business. I do not presume to make massive changes with who and what I am- I don't think it's really possible. But I can and have changed my focus. I am now focusing on my marriage. If my wife is too broken down and does not feel the same way I understand but it is out of my hands. She will make the choices that she will make and that is that.
If all she wants to do is go out and shag somebody else and then come home to have a happy marriage and family life that's fine. Hell, me too. I wonder if women can treat sex like men do? Just sex. Everything that everybody has ever told me would say no. But I don't really have any idea. Once again, I'll have to play it by ear. If that is something that she can do I don't give a damn. Any hot chicks interested in a good shagging with me, by the way?
In that regard, I'm concerned that I no longer have the ability to pick up women. I used to be something of a ladies man when I was younger- at least finding a charming young woman for the evening was never a problem for me. Do I still have that ability? I don't know.
So many questions. So few answers. I feel like a punch drunk boxer. Dead kid (uppercut- I'm staggering and can't see straight), business floods in sewage (hook to the head- I go down and get up at the eight count for no reason), best friend fucks me over in business like a sheep behind a fence (ear bit- you fucking cockbag!), bankruptcy (jab, jab, jab, jab- who the fuck is throwing those?) Okay....we're all clear....I see the light at the end of the tunnel...life is shaping up....I become more involved with the family...I implement a friday date night...what else can I do to get life in order? Things are looking up....oh no Tony, you may not have a pony! BAM! "You know, I love you but I'm not in love with you." "I think I might want to leave you because you don't contribute to our realationship."
Laying down in the ring looking up at the lights. Everybody is yelling something. I don't fucking care. Do I want to even get up? The reason I have kept on getting up every other time is now gone.
Jesus Fucking Christ. Now she is home and everything is hunky dorey. Has been for two weeks now. What the fuck does that mean? She says she wants to leave me and then now we are great? BULLSHIT. What the fuck is going on here?
Again, all I can do is work on developing my relationship skills. If she wants to stay with me great, I would be happy. If she does not, that is not great- but I understand. Time will tell.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
woo wooo woooo Dream Weaver....
I woke up at 3:30AM- but now it's 4:46AM. My youngest daughter got in bed with us because we just finished watching Spiderwick. When I rented this movie I didn't realize that it would be so scary. In fact it was just fine until the very end. She obviously had a hard time going to bed, but in she went anyway. After about half an hour she came back out and said
"Daddy, there's a monster in my wall."
So, I went back to her room with her and asked her where. She pointed to a wall and said, "over there." So I get the brilliant idea of getting a candle cup and telling her it was full of fairy dust that was magically and scientifically proven to be monster repellent. Yes, I am a wonderful parent. She reluctantly goes to bed and falls asleep after only coming back out one more time.
She waited until I was asleep for about an hour before she climbed in to bed with us. I was able to sleep for a couple of more hours, but then being scrunched on my side in the middle of the bed eventually leads to my shoulder popping out of the socket, making it very difficult for me to sleep. Intense pain has that effect on me.
So I woke up in pain physically and started thinking about something more painful. My marriage. I guess all I can say about that is that if she was ever mine she will come back to me. If she does not, then it has been a fun ride. Or as Wayne said to Garth
"If you spew and she bolts it was never meant to be. If you blow chunks and she stays she is yours forever." Or something to that effect- it's been a very long time since I have seen the movie.
The problem is that though her duties are easily replaced, even after being together for a decade "Dream Weaver" still plays in my head every time I see her. I can only hope she feels the same way.
"Daddy, there's a monster in my wall."
So, I went back to her room with her and asked her where. She pointed to a wall and said, "over there." So I get the brilliant idea of getting a candle cup and telling her it was full of fairy dust that was magically and scientifically proven to be monster repellent. Yes, I am a wonderful parent. She reluctantly goes to bed and falls asleep after only coming back out one more time.
She waited until I was asleep for about an hour before she climbed in to bed with us. I was able to sleep for a couple of more hours, but then being scrunched on my side in the middle of the bed eventually leads to my shoulder popping out of the socket, making it very difficult for me to sleep. Intense pain has that effect on me.
So I woke up in pain physically and started thinking about something more painful. My marriage. I guess all I can say about that is that if she was ever mine she will come back to me. If she does not, then it has been a fun ride. Or as Wayne said to Garth
"If you spew and she bolts it was never meant to be. If you blow chunks and she stays she is yours forever." Or something to that effect- it's been a very long time since I have seen the movie.
The problem is that though her duties are easily replaced, even after being together for a decade "Dream Weaver" still plays in my head every time I see her. I can only hope she feels the same way.
What the fuck is going on?
I have no idea.
Here I am. 34 years old.
I've owned my own business for 10 years.
I've been married for 11 years. My wife is beautiful, intellegent, and funny.
I have two children.
Life should be perfect, right? Right....
Last week I filed for bankruptcy. I'm actually happy about this. I'm not a moron-my business flooded in raw sewage. It was great.
Last year I fired all of my employees. Fuck em. I got tired of working my ass off to support those lazy bums.
We would have three children, but one who would be 8 right now died the day after her third birthday of croup.
I have spent the past five years fighting depression because of the dead kid thing. I have now peaked my head out of the sand. I'm finished with that.
Even then, I have been working my ass off to support my wife and two kids. Last year I took on a second job to make ends meet. They finally are.
I implemented a date night with my wife. We go out every Friday and have a wonderful time.
I thought things were looking up....more on that next time.
Here I am. 34 years old.
I've owned my own business for 10 years.
I've been married for 11 years. My wife is beautiful, intellegent, and funny.
I have two children.
Life should be perfect, right? Right....
Last week I filed for bankruptcy. I'm actually happy about this. I'm not a moron-my business flooded in raw sewage. It was great.
Last year I fired all of my employees. Fuck em. I got tired of working my ass off to support those lazy bums.
We would have three children, but one who would be 8 right now died the day after her third birthday of croup.
I have spent the past five years fighting depression because of the dead kid thing. I have now peaked my head out of the sand. I'm finished with that.
Even then, I have been working my ass off to support my wife and two kids. Last year I took on a second job to make ends meet. They finally are.
I implemented a date night with my wife. We go out every Friday and have a wonderful time.
I thought things were looking up....more on that next time.
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