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......
Sunday, May 24, 2009
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.
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