My inbox and other random stuff
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Publié :3/4/2008 17h56
Dernière mise à jour :16/12/2011 19h45 43761 vues
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From my vast array of emails, I can conclude a few things. Apparently, all the chicks in Dayton that just HAVE to fuck me and have profiles on all these websites think size matters. This isn't so bad, though, since I can get pills to give myself a ginormous johnson if I help out the rightful ruler of Nigeria by giving him my bank account numbers. He also guarantees that I've won the UK lottery if I watch all the free porn I can handle on this other website.
It's a geek-fest weekend. So difficult to choose exactly what geek flavor I'll enjoy. Battlestar Galactica is back. Spike is showing Star Wars movies. Someone else is showing the LOTR movies. All we need now is Star Trek, Babylon 5, all the recent comic book movies, Farscape, and, fuck it, the Stargate stuff.
Who else thinks a four-day drunk is a decent idea right now?
Best part about spring: The cool cars and the bikinis come out of hiding. Bad news about this? Better enjoy it while it lasts. Won't be long before there's no gas to power those (perhaps there'll be a little ethanol production left after we all go electric or hydrogen 'snooze') and the rising risk of skin cancer is gonna make bikinis a long-lost memory.
Sleeeeep.. I need sleep.
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18
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Age preferences do NOT mean close-minded
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Publié :1/4/2008 15h35
Dernière mise à jour :7/4/2008 10h47 43820 vues
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First, let's define close-minded
close-minded, Intolerant of the beliefs and opinions of others; stubbornly unreceptive to new ideas.
I think we can agree on that being acceptable, yes?
{br]On with the point of the post. I've come across two trends that bug me in my short time of blogging. One is an old issue and you'll find it anywhere, so I don't consider it post-worthy. The other issue also has aspects on other sites, but has a different twist, here.
On other sites, where people can both blog and see who is viewing their profile, you often see the younger women pop out with the 'EWWW! GROSS OLD MEN ARE LOOKING AT MY PROFILE!' posts. No biggie. HERE, I see the older guys bitching about age being a factor when someone chooses a partner.
What bugs me is that they label those women who don't include their age within their preferences as 'close-minded'. That's some passive-aggressive bullshit. Close-minded is having a negative image of someone who has preferences that do not benefit you. It does not mean they think less of people outside of their range. It means they'd rather sleep with someone that is closer to them in age.
I don't hear these same people bitching about other preferences people have. I haven't seen one, not one, fucking blog about height preferences. Or body type. Or location or ethnicity. I'm sure the main proponents of 'age is just a number' have listed preferences that others might find disappointing.
I hate to tell someone this, but the crap of 'age is just a number' makes a nice slogan, but is utter bull. Why? Age indicates a range of experiences, influences, tastes, and viewpoints. There are vast differences between a 25 year-old and a 50 year-old. Some 25 year-olds might enjoy those differences. Other 25 year-olds might want to spend their naked time with someone they have more in common with. Neither is good or bad. Just different. Their choice might be simply aesthetic. Still not good or bad. Attraction is a seriously complicated business, so much so that it's a very active field of study now. They have NO solid handle on what governs attraction. Telling somebody that they're close-minded or dogmatic for being attracted to someone who is not you or to a type you do not fit in fits nicely under the heading of 'hypocrisy'. The close-minded person is the one who thinks the age preference that does not include them is an immoral concept.
Tell me again, who's being close-minded?
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15
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The Good, The Bad, and the Soon-To-Be-Ugly
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Publié :30/3/2008 19h37
Dernière mise à jour :7/4/2008 10h56 43951 vues
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The Bad
An average sized gray cat that walks with his head so he always has an evil look about him. Very discourteous of what others are doing or need to get done, his mission is to get his whenever he wants it. For instance, he once saw fit to interrupt a nice blowjob by knocking over a glass of some anonymous, but non-alcoholic, fluid. Dick.
The Good
A somewhat-rounded, mostly white fluffy cat. Smallish with a little puffball for a tail. Keeps to herself most of the time, but, sometimes, when I'm in the kitchen or going to bed, she wants her attention.
The Soon-To-Be-Ugly
Me.
In my living room is a black leather La-Z-Boy that has heat and massage. It is very good for napping in. I'm feeling in a snoozing mood. After kicking it way back, finding a decent something on the TV, I flip on the heat and settle in.
Enter the Bad. Of course, since I'm stationary, he wants lap-time. He begins by walking across my lap one way, pulling at my hand to get me to pet him, then walking back acroos my lap and repeating the same process of urging me to stroke him a bit.
While Bad is on the left arm of the chair after he's made his second lap across my lap, Good comes running in. She has decided that I need protecting from the Bad. That, or she wants her own lap time. Bad and Good can not share the same space at the same time. If that happened, the universe would implode instantaneously.
The Good takes up her position on the right arm of my chair. While this bears a humorous resemblance to the cliche of the Devil and Angel on a person's shoulder, whispering the pros and cons of a certain action, it is far more similar to being stuck outside the doors when the Greeks charge Troy. The stare-down begins.
And continues.
Still continuing.
The stare-down goes on ridiculously long because it seems like cats either get hypnotizwed very easily or they don't have to blink very often. My lap hung in the balance, my oh-so-valuable genitalia hung in the balance. After a while of wondering if my balls would sruvive, almost simultaneously (I swear, cats must be telepathic), they decided to start swiping at each other and the hissing began.
[br[I booted them both out the door. My balls aren't going in a slig because of them.
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14
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Kudos
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Publié :29/3/2008 21h11
Dernière mise à jour :17/4/2008 12h37 43678 vues
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What are they and what can I do with them?
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10
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I'm such a voyeur.
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Publié :28/3/2008 20h31
Dernière mise à jour :6/4/2008 7h34 43845 vues
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I live in a duplex. And OLD duplex, built before decent sound-proofing was invented. Every wall stud and the main beam that is atop the basement footer between the two basement halves are all common. Sound travels very well through them.
[br[Just heard the neighbor having a good ole fuck. And god damn it, who is here to put on a show for them? Where are you, my exhibitionist partner-in-sexual adventures? Not fucking here, that's for sure.
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10
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A bit of a story
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Publié :25/3/2008 16h54
Dernière mise à jour :6/1/2012 14h51 43876 vues
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First, let me explain that the point of this episode isn't the sex, though it is sexual. It is also not an example of how I am.
Before I take the last few steps up onto her landing, I do a quick check of my "self". I squeeze down my normal bubble until it's small enough to allow interaction. It will allow me to seem as if I'm "in the moment" and she will believe it.
She opens the door and smiles sweetly as she moves aside to let me into her living room. It's a cozy place. It has a well-worn feel to it. Not abused, or worn-out, but alive with evidence that someone actually does more than keep the place clean. Pieces of her aren't hard to spot. Over there is a bookcase full of books she's either read or intends to read, some are stacked up on top and a few are lying flat in front of the books lined up on their ends like in a library. Over there is a corner where she draws and paints, all the supplies put away but there's still a stained paintcloth draped across an easel, proving the area is well-used. The computer she uses sits in a large computer desk with discs strewn across the shelves and desktop. It's easy to be comfortable here.
I catch all of this in a glance as she closes the door behind me. I've been in her apartment before and I'm not here to inspect it.
I pin her to the door as I kiss her deeply, almost roughly. Both of us immediately feel the physical response of this sudden instigation. A dot of light appears in the normal blankness in the bubble as her clothes change from decorative, functional garments into piles of color. The dot is multicolored; a subdued swirl of rainbows that echoes the rumpled pants, shirts, and various sundries we've left behind as we begin our mutually beneficial and completely familiar struggle.
To an observer, it must look as if I'm fighting this woman. I welcome the raw, physical, visceral nature of our activity. I revel in the sensations and a forlorn hope that comes with it. I'm seeking two things at once: mutual pleasure and a final victory over my cursed bubble. I seek its destruction and an end to the emptiness it contains. I concentrate all my will and physical strength into doing both at once, for it seems I can not do one without the other. She urges me on with liberal use of vocal encouragement, as if she is cognizant of the dual purpose of our current interaction. She can't know, but it seems that way and I appreciate the encouragement. As we continue on, the intensity waxing and waning, the light pulses and expands right along with my exertions, pushing back the dark and threatening to swallow it.
It ends.. as all such things end. We're both physically sated and exhausted, at least for now. As I fear, the blackness aborbs the light as my body calms. It's not long before the bubble is back to its usual state, though still shrunken.
I find my shirt and the pack of Camels in the pocket. The Zippo I find in the right front pocket of my nearby jeans makes a comforting "snick-ting" as it opens and emits the familiar smell of lighter fluid. I lean back into the couch and take that first desparate drag and hate my empty bubble. I participate in conversation, but she's distant again. I didn't achieve my victory, but I found a small respite. I am grateful for that, but that's just not something I can say or she'd want to hear.
I finish that Camel and head to the restroom. When I finish in there, I return to the living room, dress, and head for the door.
"Are you leaving?", she asks.
"I was never here.", I answer as the door closes behind me.
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10
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It's my birthday
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Publié :18/3/2008 17h34
Dernière mise à jour :28/3/2008 8h31 43942 vues
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A day that I normaly do nothing to celebrate. I do not normally do things like this, that beg for attention. But, this time, I'll do this:
Since it is my birthday, I think it's a shame to spend it without naked female company. So, who wants to do some celebrating with me here in Dayton, Ohio and give me some cake?
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16
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Stupid Dems
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Publié :17/3/2008 17h18
Dernière mise à jour :18/3/2008 17h49 43946 vues
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No need to wait for anything the RNC will do. The Dems, in their continued process of self-destruction, have decided to alienate the voters of Florida. I'm sure those people are enjoying yet another cycle in which their votes count for nothing.
Yes, I know all the biz about violating party rules and the counter-bs about the Florida Repubs forcing it on them. Save it. The end result is the voters get fucked.
That's a winning piece of policy right there.
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2
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So.....Right.
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Publié :13/3/2008 19h20
Dernière mise à jour :16/3/2008 22h03 43816 vues
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In Springfield, a teacher's free time is NOT his own. Even if he uses a pseudonym.
Story below, copy pastas from Dayton Daily News.
By Lucas Sullivan
Staff Writer
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
SPRINGFIELD – South High School assistant principal Karl Perkins has been placed on administrative leave after school officials learned he was the author of some erotic poetry for sale on a Web site.
Springfield City Schools officials are investigating the incident after a student downloaded a book of poems written by Antonio Love, Perkins' pseudonym.
Perkins, 33, who is also in charge of some student organizations at South, was placed on administrative leave Thursday, Feb. 14, said Donna Picklesimer, board of education president.
She did not know if Perkins would be fired. Superintendent Jean Harper did not return a message left on her cell phone seeking comment.
Perkins hung up the phone Monday, Feb. 18, when asked about the incident. He did not return another call seeking comment.
Picklesimer said she expects the investigation to conclude by the end of the week at the latest.
The book of poetry was allegedly downloaded from Perkins' Web site, which was up and running last week but its content has since been taken down.
The book in question, "Love Songs and Sex Versus Vol. 1," has poems allegedly penned by Perkins that describe sexual acts on a woman.
At the end of the book a passage about the author reads, "Soul Classics is at the epicenter of CEO Karl 'Antonio Love' Perkins."
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Pour créer un lien vers ce blog (GimmeAThrill), utilisez [blog GimmeAThrill] dans vos messages.
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