Like a Virgin, Snapped for the Very First Time... Snap? WTF?

I am in a rather foul and depressed mood this evening. I was awed and amused by my wife’s boldness with her Half Naked Thursday post, and believe me, I was not the only one who was pleasantly surprised. After checking out some other posts regarding HNT, I was pretty much convinced Mimi pushed the bar to new places, or at the very least provided a lot of entertainment and maybe even some masturbatory material for others especially if you browse her blog since you will undoubtedly find additional entertaining and stimulating pictures (and there are more than just those for the curious).

At any rate, while drilling down through some key word hits for my blog (posting about something yesterday, I mentioned LAP DANCE, which scored with some search engines) I stumbled across a site by a seventeen year old Venezuelan girl (READ THE POST FIRST BEFORE GOING TO HER SITE PLEASE). This chickie is certainly the little Lolita. So how did I end up on her site? Well I promise you I am no freak in that sense (I am not going to use any words or combination thereof that would make me a search target as being some sort of freak that likes children), as it happens she scored higher than I, with something about a lap dance in her blog and the following is what I found…

Yellow: hugging
Purple: anal sex
Red: sex, coital or oral, lap dance, (alternate meaning: with no condom)
Blue: blow job
Black: sexual intercourse, coital or oral, (alternate meaning: with condom)
Orange: kissing, necking, bare breasts
Green: cunnilingus or outdoor sex
Clear: whatever you want
White: flashing or gay kiss or french kiss
Glow in the Dark: with sex toys
Red & Black: 69 (lol)Pink: licking butt or analingus
Silver: fisting (comment by Jay – WTF does a 17 year old know about fisting?)
Gold Glitter: make out
Brown: toss my salad i.e. analingus

Ok, you get the idea? Maybe? Possibly? Or even, Hopefully not. I first heard about this color code about a year ago. I was listening to Glenn Beck and he was describing this game, and I could not for the life of me, believe what I was hearing, because it was happening in middle school. What you ask? What does fisting and anilingus and “with/without condoms” have to do with middle school? Well folks I have heard about this a total of four times now, but here is the deal.

Sex Bracelet Color Codes – This is a game. The game is called “Snap”

You see girls wear jelly bracelets, like you know jelly shoes or those little black rubber bracelets Madonna used to wear when she was like a virgin (Oh how I loved the young hot cool Madonna), and then a guy or girl is supposed to “snap” or rather break the bracelet off the wearers wrist/arm and the wearer is obliged to do that which is suggested by the color code above. So at the worst lets hope your daughter is only wearing yellow if she is wearing any at all.

Let’s run down this again, this is a sex game, and the girl or guy (I guess a gay guy could play - not that there is anything wrong with that) wears a number of these bracelets in any one or variety of colors and she or he becomes the hunted. The guys or girls creep up on the wearer, snap off a bracelet and then non-condom wearing fun ensues if you get a red bracelet or sex in the quad if you happen to snag a green one or if you are slick enough you can get a red one and green one as well as a red& black one and have hot sixty-nine intercourse without a condom in the quad just for popping a bracelet off a wearer.

To be fair… I understand Snopes (An Urban Legends debunking site – pretty much the leader in debunking ULs) has not actually debunked the issue with Jelly Bracelets, but rather placed it in an “undetermined” category. So do these bracelets exist and are they actually used? I know the bracelets exist, but I can honestly say I do not know about the game. I know when I first heard about it, the context of reporting was from Glenn Back who read a news article from some mid-western locale. However, I have heard about this phenomenon several time since, and now I stumbled across this young lady’s blog. It appears from her entry that her rationale is the bracelets are flaunted in a sexual connotation and that if in fact the game of snap is mythical, then by making such a big deal of it, the myth is made fact and reality. She has 25 bracelets, but my translation alludes to the fact she is, however still a virgin.

So has anyone heard of this game? Has anyone first hand knowledge about this game? I am just very curious whether this is a Myth or if it is indeed fact?

"...I'm gonna tell you somethin' right now. While you're out there playing patty cake with your friend Pedro, your Uncle Rico is makin' 120 bucks..."

A day or two after my 17th birthday my father and I went to the National Guard recruiter and I signed up for the National Guard. I was a junior in high school, but there were no real wars back then. There are a number of reasons I went into the National Guard, but that is not the point of this post. So I won’t delve into all of that, as there are other more pressing things I must relate. I can ensure you I did this with no coercion by anyone including my father. The idea, in fact, was my own.

I think back to basic training and infantry training, without delving deep into the recesses of my mind, I recall six events. I remember the first day of Rifle marksmanship and qualifying with the M-16, I recall getting my hair shaved and being yanked off the bus when I got to my training unit, I remember learning how to navigate a mine field, I recall my first lap dance, but none of that has anything to do with this…

I also remember what I used to say every morning when the drill sergeants woke us up for first call (which is your only call otherwise your ass was grass). I would wake up and say “I fucking hate this shit.” But I would make my bunk and brush my teeth, get my PT stuff on and get out to formation. Everyday I would do this, even on Sundays. Sundays weren’t so bad because there was church, and most of the day we were allowed to do wash and shine boots and things of that nature. But every morning was the same. At 0430 in the morning I was up doing calisthenics and running, then showers and breakfast. But the main thing was I was up at 0430 each morning and I fucking hated it. I was always tired and I was always sore, be it from shin splints or just sore muscles. But I was miserable and basic training at Sand Hill was a sorry ass place to be in the middle of July.

The bright spot of the whole ordeal was that I would wake up each morning and say, “I fucking hate this shit….” But I would take a day off my mental calendar and know exactly how many days I had left till I was done. The training I initially went through was 16 weeks, so basically four months. Relatively, that is no time at all, but to a 17 year old kid, four months was forever… except that it was only four months and I would come home and go back to school. There was an end, and I knew how far that tunnel reached and how long I would have to get done with all of this. That is unless I got hurt, or screwed something up and failed and was recycled. But that was not going to happen. I remember on my last twelve mile road march I had shin splints and I was required to complete this road march no matter what or I would be recycled till my legs had healed and then I would have to jump back in with another company of recruits.

I was having none of that, I was going back home on time, without any issues even if I had to hobble home. I walked that twelve miles and I was in pain the entire time, but I kept going, and I refused to give up and I maintained pace with my fellow soldiers, and I recall my drill sergeant yelling at me not to give up, and that I could sit on my ass when we got through and I could take care of that “pansy shit” when we were done. I recall seeing the end of the course coming down the hill and towards our barracks. And we broke into a slow run or what we called a “shuffle” moving towards our barracks and at each step I could feel pain shooting up my shins through my body. Each time my feet hit the ground shards of pain hit me, but it was there, we were less than half a mile away. Before I knew it we had finished. All that was left was a couple of days of bullshit training and prepping for graduation. I soaked my swollen shins for a good part of the morning and drank lots of water. But I would be done with this shit. I was done with the fucking road march and would be done with my four months of training. The end was finite and was coming to an end. There was no stopping it, I would soon be back home in my room, and would go back to school several weeks later to be a senior. But I was done with my Army training for the moment and I felt good.

I came in tonight, after what I feel was a disappointing day. I did not sleep well. I took a heavy dosage of my meds today to get to sleep because I knew otherwise I would toss and turn waiting for that phone call. I am not pessimistic by nature, but I am becoming a pessimist I think, and I do not like it. Not one bit. I did wake up earlier than I wanted or expected, but I could not go back to sleep. The first time I woke up, I was able to get back to sleep. I was still a bit dizzy and out of sorts. By the time 5PM rolled around I was unable to get back to a good sleep. I think I finally got up around 5:45, with some on and off dozing. But I did not sleep well. As soon as I woke up the first time, I went down stairs and listened to my voice mails, all five of them. It was funny, I do not get many voice mails, but today I had a number of them and with anticipation I listened to each. Still nothing about a job, nothing about a couple of calls I am expecting. I put my phone down in disappointment and went back to bed for another forty-five minutes.

You know I have a job that has been offered to me… I have a rate and I know what I will be doing etc… but I do not have a start date nor do I know when I will get a start date. Then there is this other job… You see, I am not a patient person. I like things done in a certain way and I like them to be done quickly and efficiently. This is how the world ought to work… But the world does not work like that, and I think it never has worked quickly and efficiently. So I was supposed to get an answer today about this one job; I know it is between someone else and me, and there is a possibility we both could be asked to work for this company but then again, if we cannot both be hired, then they have to choose between the senior person (me) or the junior person (this other guy). So what really sucks about this situation is, do they want they want the junior guy and pay him less or get the senior guy and pay the premium. It’s a toss up…

I saw a job I had applied for a few months ago of which I went through several extensive interviews. The job was put back out on the job boards this evening. I wasn’t disappointed because I expected that, but the simple fact no one even called to tell me they were definitely reclassifying the position and that I was not going to be hired is bullshit. This has happened over and over again, they leave you in limbo never to be heard from again.

So even though I have two good potential things happening, I am still in this tunnel with no end in sight. I could be called at any minute on any day but I do not know when and it is driving me crazy. What can I do? Well at this point it is time to get some more interviews in the pipeline. I am in such a competitive field and at my level people want such specific things. And I swear the difference in getting a job offer or not could be something as minute as what color shirt I happen to be wearing when I interview. I mean you never know what people want and you have to keep working each interview. And it is a sales job what I am doing, the more “no’s” I get the closer I am to a yes, but the whole system sucks ass and I am still stuck in this tunnel where the life is sucked out of me more and more each day. And each day I think more times than I did the day before about just walking away from this place. But I know by doing so I would do more harm to my family and me than I would to those who I left and I would suffer much more than this place.

So I continue to go forward and trying to keep things positive. And yes I know, I am being a whiny-ass bitch again. Yeah that sucks and I am acting like a real pussy, but it is only temporary.

"Well I like school... and I like football... and I'm gonna keep doin' 'em both because they make me feel good."

I was going to write about another subject tonight, and in fact I had already written the whole entry in addition to what follows. It was just a horrible subject that I was going to talk about and I do not feel like going on a rant about what a particularly horrible man did to this little girl. IT is a horrible thing to dwell upon. If you read this blog, I want you to know I will always remember your story and I will watch over and listen to everything my little girl tells me.

Now on to something happy and joyful… that time of year has returned!

It is an exciting time of the year; it is the end of summer. I hate to see the end of summer approaching because soon the hot weather will leave (thankfully in the South I have several more months before it really goes away), but with the end of summer comes FOOTBALL.

That’s right folks, football has arrived and it is not just a sport, but a religion in the South. Thursday nights its JV Football, Friday nights its Varsity Football, Saturday it is Recreation League Football, then College ball and Sunday & Monday, professional football.

NOTE: For all you folks who might wind up because I have used the word FOOTBALL and you are looking for that other sport people play because they cannot play real FOOTBALL, you seriously need to go somewhere else. I am blogging about hitting, tackling, rushing, passing, catching and not just about kicking. No… I am talking about football that lends itself to kicking ass!

God has blessed us with this great sport of football for all of us to enjoy from the beginning of the weekend till the end with football warm up and warm-downs on Thursday and Monday nights. Oh Halleluiah!

Our son has started his first week of practice and will shortly start their first night of pads Thursday night! Yes, I am enthusiastic and yes I am almost as excited as my son. My in-laws have even bought our daughter a nice cheerleading uniform with colors to match my son’s team and mascot. Last year my son was on a team like he will never be on again, they remained un-scored upon until they met up with a team in the semi finals of the championship where they got spanked pretty well during the game. They had a magic season. My son wants revenge upon that team because that is now twice, the same team has prevented his team form making it to the county championship. Yes, bitter football rivalries made at this early age. In fact you ask, how old is your son, well he is eleven and is in his fifth season of play. He has as much experience as some High School seniors at this point.

Please understand, we are not one of those families that live vicariously through their children, we just like football. When he was seven, my son wanted to play a team sport. We gave him the choice between hockey, which he enjoys a great deal, and football, for which he now looks forward to, as soon as that year’s season is done. But you see we live in the South and this is football country. There are people who keep up with High School games like they were college or professional teams. Some small towns live and die by football. Kids are educated by football and are able to leave their small towns to be something bigger and get an education so they do not have to go back to those small towns if they choose..

If you have seen Friday Night Lights, or Remember the Titans, or Radio or any movie about football in the South, they are generally correct about how this game is revered. Soon the nights and mornings will get crisp, and boys will be into the middle of their season. They will be working hard to get to their championship games. And whether they are undefeated or have not won a single game (and both have happened to teams our son has been a part of) one thing is for sure. These boys never give up. They love the game, they live to play the game, they play it like a game. Mind you they want to win, but mostly they want to play the game and whether they have a crowd or not, right now, their field of play is just that, a place they can play a game and enjoy themselves.

Soon, they will play the game not just because they love it, but because they love the adoration and that is when a good player turns great. When they recognize adoration and they receive the feedback from those other than their parents and families, the boys want to become stars. My son is approaching that age. Soon, he will want to become a star, and will play because he loves the game and because he will be the game. This is the time when those children who will go on to play on the High School team will know what it means to win and play for the fans. And soon these boys will know they are gladiators and strive to win for themselves and their school. Because when they are in high school, they are no longer playing for themselves or the adoration of their parents. They will be playing and competing and battling for the pride of something greater than them, but as a team they will battle for their school.

It is a wonderful thing to watch my son grow up playing this sport because he started out being this little kid who had these big pads on, and big helmet who knew what football was, but wasn’t sure how to play. Today he is this playful kid, who straps on his equipment and just loves to play the game for the game’s sake. These next two years will be some of the best football I will ever get to see from him because it will be not just a sport but a game he understands and will enjoy playing.

I still look forward to him playing for many years to come of course, because he will want to be a star. I hope that he will be able to achieve that aspiration if he continues to play, but for now I want to enjoy his love for the game.

* Random "R" Rated Pic...

While doing some side work this morning I came across this picture which was filed in the wrong place. Thankfully a secure place... This happens to be one of my favorite "R" rated pics of my Mimi.


By the way... not that I have received any complaints, but I do want to tell all... When I first decided to blog, I wanted to avoid politics for the most part, I wanted to have a place to bitch about my own microcosmic issues, a place where I could be humorous, and a place where I could share and show aspects of our (mimi and my) sex life which is an adventure in and of itself.

I know that some may think it is inappropriate or gauche, however I hope you can see past that and enjoy the adventure and uninhibited joy of my wife.

Deciding To Revisit Fabio Fucker

I love my son to death. I have mentioned in past entries that he is my first greatest creation. I will never forget the moment he took my hand, as he was being washed off and warmed up, and squeezed it. I told him that everything was ok and squeezed his hand back and I tell you all, he stopped crying. As God is my witness, he honestly stopped crying as if he knew that everything really was going to be alright. My son, as all children (even as an adult, I am sure my parents feel this way about me) are a work in progress. He is eleven years old and as any child at eleven, has a long way to go. However, I have a pet peeve when it comes to my son, and it is something that has flat out upset me for many of his eleven years. My son cannot make a decision. Not that he can’t make ANY decisions, but when asked to make a decision to do something he has a tendency to tell you, “I don’t know,” or , “I am not sure,” or “what do you think,” etc…

I understand he is a child, and as a child he may not be equipped to make some decisions. I readily accept the fact when asked, if he thinks as woman/girl (someone on TV like Hillary Duff) is hot, I will get an answer of, “I do not know.” For an eleven year old not exactly into girls yet, or somewhat embarrassed about girls still, I understand perfectly his position or lack thereof. My problem comes in where we ask him if he wants to do “A” or “B” and he tells us “I don’t know,” or, “I am not sure.” An example is the other day we ask him if he wants to go out somewhere with us and he cannot make the decision of “yes” or “no.” and I get thoroughly frustrated. I mean all I want to know is if he wants to go with us, and I do not want a lot of gibberish about why he is not sure or whatever. Now, I am not stupid, he does not want to go because he is playing a game online. I quickly explain that I really do not care what his decision is, nor do I care about his justification either way. I was not going to get upset with any decision he was going to make I just wanted him to make a “yes” or “no” decision and that was it. I ended up getting very frustrated, told him if he could not make a decision, and knowing he wanted to stay home, to go get his shoes and socks because he was coming with us.

At this point he got upset with me and started going on about how he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do and blah, blah, blah. I told him no problem, that if he could not decide for himself, I was going to tell him what he was going to do. Still he was griping and I kept asking him what’s it going to be, and still no response. Finally he was pitching a fit while putting his shoes on and then I lost it, I yelled at him and told him that since he could not make a simple decision that he better hush up and deal with my decision that I made for him. Finally, after badgering and yelling he caved and told me that no, he did not want to go. And then he started telling me why. I told him I didn’t care why, but I thanked him for making his decision and dropped the subject and stopped yelling. He was very surprised I immediately, as if the storm had been turned off in mid stream, stopped being upset with him.

So yesterday morning I got home and had breakfast/dinner (or whatever meal it is cause I am so screwed up with my schedule by this time of the week mornings are night and nights are fucking mornings) with my son and Mimi and the daughter. I wanted to revisit the decision issue with my son again. You see, I think, being able to make a decision is an important thing. Once again, growing up in the military world and being in the Army made me a good decision maker. The military forces people to learn how to make decisions and that indecision, being a decision in and of itself, will get you and your people killed every time, thus, my frustration with people who cannot make decisions. So I start explaining to my son why it is crucial to be able to make decisions and I gave him a couple of scenario tests.

An example:
You are the captain of a ship, and your ship is heading straight for an iceberg. You have 10 seconds to make a decision on what to do before the ship passes the no turning back point and will hit the iceberg regardless of what is done.

Pause: now invariably most people like my son, would say stop the ship. But you see you cannot, because if you stop the ship or even reverse your propellers in full reverse the forward motion of the ship will still run you into the iceberg.

So now I tell him, you have two apparent choices, A) turn the boat to port (left), or B) turn to starboard (right).

So now he asks me what happens if I turn the ship one way or the other. I tell him it doesn’t matter but he has ten seconds to make the decision to save the people on the ship. I forget what he said, but that wasn’t the point. The point is, he made the third non-apparent decision… He made no decision at all, he was caught up in the situation that he did not make the decision. So when he told me what decision he made, I told him it was too late because he had taken more than ten seconds.

My son was not happy about the outcome to say the least. But I explained that in the context I laid out the problem, he needed to make a decision whether it was right or wrong, a decision was needed to be made to avert eminent and unavoidable peril.

I have given my son an assignment in life. I have explained that decision making is hard, but not making a decision is worse than any bad decision one can make. Indecision is what kills people and is what is paralyzing business and commerce today. People are scared to take responsibility and make decisions. Every day we make decisions that have a domino effect across your immediate life and believe it or not across the universe. This is the “Butterfly Effect,” which is the root of the Chaos Theory. Now look, I recognize it is hard to fathom how your decision to go one way or another to work on any given day can have any effect on another person across the world, but if you read and understand the basics of Chaos and the Butterfly Effect, then you can grasp the concept. My point is, that no matter what decision you make it will ultimately be a bad decision for someone, whether it is apparent to you or not. SO I have tasked my son to make decisions. Just make the decision without analyzing it to death. Normally the first decision you have in your head is the best (most times).

Many people get caught up in analyzing a problem, worrying about its effect on the decision maker, about the company and those who are affected by the decision etc… And what happens? Paralysis of a decision because no one wants to take responsibility to make the decision unless they get it passed off by someone else or unless they are sure it is the “right” decision or unless in many cases, they have someone to blame for the decision if the decision is immediately wrong and things go to shit. And that folks, is what I am going to bitch about.

So let’s talk about my manager whose name is now penned as FF, or more descriptively Fabio Fucker. About a month and a half or two ago, this chick who is now one of my peers was presented an opportunity (I use that term quite loosely) to come work on our team. I should also point out, back in February I told FF that I could not do this night shift stuff for a myriad of reason, and wanted to come to days per our agreement when I was drafteedfor this shit position. Well, back then he wasn’t sure what to do. He asked me to come up with a couple of different scenarios but he didn’t like either of them and so he told me he would think about it. He came up with some outrageously idiotic scenarios a few days later and asked me what I thought, and I told him the ideas were really not feasible to maintain team integrity. And based on those ideas, I would not move me either. So I stayed on nights because I made a decision for him since he didn’t like my scenarios. So now when I bring up the issue in February he reminds me that I said I wouldn’t make the decisions he proposed, thus I stayed on nights. What a spineless sack of shit.

So back to this new chick… It turns out that in March we are told we will get additional headcount and behind closed doors FF tells me I would get to come to days. Now I am not sure if I blogged about coming to days, I think not because I sure didn’t hold my breath. No sooner had he told me this, than I get a call from this chick who was my peer before I came to this team. She asks me what I think of the job. Knowing her job is going down a path she had no business being on, and knowing if she did not come over to our team, she would be up shit creek, I told her I thought it would be a great move. Now I never even considered the fact FF would fuck me like he ultimately did when talking to this chick, but I should have considered it.

Before I know it, this chick is on our team, and is working days. I get called in by FF and he explains that she is an employee and she wanted days. So he wasn’t in a position to make a decision. I called bullshit, and told him that based on our conversation that he told me I would get the spot, but se la vie, right? Once again, he let someone else guide and make his decision and pushed the blame somewhere else. This is a guy who will not make decisions for the team, he tells us to work it out and come back with how we want to do it, and when something goes awry he fingers the person who made the decision for him. I have seen it over and over again.

So what prompted this entire diatribe is a follow up to how I penned FF’s blog nickname and what a fucked up backstabbing dickhead he is and the simple fucked up nature of this entire organization.

You see this chick who usurped my day shift comes to me the other week and asks if I wanted to switch with her. Now, folks, I am nobody’s fool, so I said yeah of course, like it’s a no-brainer. She asks me if the night job is hard, and really its dealing with all the fuck-ups other people make so I tell her… Nope, its as simple as pie. I just want to get on days to have a normal fucking diurnal sleep pattern and would like to actually spend normal weekends and evenings with my family. She says cool, it’s a done deal. She gives me her reasons why she wants nights and mentions that now her husband is no longer working so the night shift is cool with her. Now I am pissed off about that last statement because FF lead me to believe this chick had some sort of serious issue with her home life that made it necessary to work days, and not only that… but initially the day shift was set up to be eight hours a day and run from either Sunday through Thursday or Tuesday through Saturday to span at least one weekend day. Funny thing is, her shift ended up being just what she wanted, nine to five, Monday through Friday. Its amazing how shit like that happens, huh?

So as it turns out, she wants nights now, I want days, we take it FF at the beginning of the week since FF has just returned from vacation. We propose, and he says he will think about it. I mean WTF, like this is a no brainer, everyone gets what they want and things are hunkey dorey (SP?), right? Nope not in FFs book, he wants to T-H-I-N-K about it, he is a moronic middle management non-decision making fuck. He is worried about what could go wrong.

On Wednesday, we have a staff meeting which provides him the perfect opportunity to blame his indecision on someone else or something else. We have obtained a new responsibility from another unit which has been kicking our butts from a man power perspective. So we discuss how this process needs to be done, and my suggestion is to put it into another group that is better suited for this task and is pretty much the same thing they already do as part of their job. But nope, FF thinks he should assign it to one of us and not only that, but that person should go to another team. And that person he tells me in his office later on, is the chick who wants to swap out with me.

Well it is ridiculous how much I have droned on, but I guess the point to this entire Michner-like novel I have written, is that the pain and fear of decision making needs to be learned at a young age because if not, you end up with weasely upper management types who put their decision making off on others. After an issue last night I was asked why such and such person made a certain decision during a crisis. I told FF, “the hell if I know… I was more concerned in fixing the problem than interrogating my people so someone could point a finger at him later on,” and I walked off. I guess this is why he would rather have me on the night shift because he doesn’t want me coming after him, like he knows I would, in front of directors and VPs. What a fucking pussy he is!

Talk About a Quick Turnaround on Cleavage!

What do you know?
As quick as I could post.. Our First Butt Cleavage entry!

Cleavage - "...soft smooth partial globe-like mounds of flesh..."

That was an outburst last night. An adult equivalent of a tantrum. I was really pretty pissed last night, not that I am not tonight, as I am at work. That in and of itself (work I mean) pisses me off these days. I got a bit more sleep today, still not enough to feel completely rested, but I am functional. And my manager, FF, still has me quite perturbed, but I will discuss FF in another entry that I am saving up just for him and his backstabbing antics. And thanks Rachel for the “AMEN” (for those of you not quite ejimakated in the Southern ways, that is AMEN as in AY-MEN) I am glad there is someone out there who is with me! Not that there are not others, but what can you do but acknowledge someone who gives you a nice Southern “Amen” for a rant, right?

I wanted to tell my readership some good news, but alas, I have none to report yet. All is status quo, which not only disappoints me but pretty much depresses me. However, being the eternal optimist, I will not let my situation beat me down. I mean things could be much worse; much, much worse actually. I have been down to the depths of abject poverty and in the middle of a divorce, and etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Today I have an intelligent and beautiful wife, two great kids, my “mistress” a menagerie of animals, working automobiles and healthy parents and siblings. So really other than despising my job which I do get paid to do, I really should not bitch. In that list of things I have three main gripes; I do not make enough money (none of us do – at least in the macrocosm of normal folk), I hate my job (A lot of people are in this boat as well), and I don’t get as much sleep as I should or need (this too is something that is quite common, but if you are an over achiever or driven person this doesn’t matter unless they really, really can’t stand their piece of shit job). Oh yeah, I fucking cannot stand my job, so that is four things. I know it is already on my list, but I want to add it to my list for added emphases, especially since I hate lists and when I take off the fact I hate my job (my hope is that I will take that off very soon), then I will take off two things and have a much shorter list. AND, should my current situation change, I will be able to take off the money thing and the sleep thing pretty quickly as well. Now bear in mind also, I will add the “not enough money” thing on there, shortly after it comes off, since as I have stated no one ever makes enough or has too much money.

Really, I want to talk about our friends in Britain, and moronic terrorists. And believe me these Muslim extremists are a bunch of moronic terrorists. However that will have to wait for another day as well.

I was reading another blog which mentioned something near and dear to my heart… Low rise jeans and shorts with butt cleavage. Now according to ESS and her butt cleavage story, this was no cleavage I wanted to see, if you want to know more about it, you are going to have to check out her story. I only want to focus on nice smooth, pristine butt cleavage only made possible by the inventor of low rise jeans and shorts. I am not sure who invented this “style” and heavenly concept, but I think the fashion came from Brazil. “Oh thank and bless you, the creator and maker of low rise wearables!”

See, I have this whole fetish (I cannot think of what else it could be or a better word for this thing of mine) about women purposely or accidentally flashing in public (if you can get through the beginning there is a flashing story about Mimi). I encourage my Mimi to do this for me quite often and I live for the summers in the South because women tend to wear less, a lot less, thus intentionally, but mostly unintentionally flashing cleavage, panties and the lack thereof, their legs and shoulders. I love women and their curves and the way they look in general, dazzling works of art by God.

The winter is so dreary and women must bundle up and I miss their legs and short shorts, and tiny skirts, and their deep cut “V” tops and halters in the winter. But, along came the low rise jean and the winters became a myriad of butt cleavage. And in the last year the whole thing with the pelvic bone has made low rise jeans even better. I am telling you, when Mimi wears low rise jeans, I pop wood! It is a lovely thing to be walking down the street or in the mall and some random woman is bent over and her tattoo and butt cleavage pops out to greeting me. I must say I do get a smile when such events take place.

Now what I find interesting and down right humorous is I see the media frenzy about how sleazy butt cleavage is, and how it is tacky, and how this should not be socially acceptable. And I agree… that is if you are little teeny bopper sporting butt cleavage, a halter top so both her tits and ass are hanging out. That is absolutely wrong. I cannot stand walking into a store and seeing a girl who is obviously in high school or younger sporting this kind of clothing while shopping with her mother. What is the mother thinking? Hey lemme pimp my daughter out and let her dress however she wants so hard dicked boys will flock to her. Nope, that is something a woman can do when they have left the nest.

But I seriously digress… So there is media hype about butt cleavage and I ask, what is so wrong with a nice ass crack? I think it is hot. I mean no one ever has a problem with breast cleavage. Geez, the commercials, designers and the very women who report about butt cleavage wear clothing to enhance the looks of their breasts and breast cleavage. So I ask what is the difference between different and diverse sets of cleavage?

Now I recognize there are some women who cannot sport butt cleavage and they feel left out, but there are many women who have no problem sporting butt cleavage but are short on the breast cleavage side. I think there is hypocrisy in that argument as well, I believe if you have cleavage you should expose it and be proud. I mean there is some comforting and stimulating about the soft smooth partial globe-like mounds of flesh exposed that makes you just want to lie your head upon them or gently run your tongue down between the gently sloping cleavage area. You just know how wonderful that skin would taste as your tongue caresses those breasts or butt cheeks. Mmmmmmmmmmm, man I am sporting wood as I write this now!

So yes, some may think it is tacky, but I for one do not. As a matter of fact, I have a renewed fondness of g-strings. You see, Mimi likes to go commando quite often and I applaud her and all women who go commando, it makes a spontaneous sexual tryst much easier to pull off especially if there is a dress involved and it is in a public or semi-public place. However, the first time I saw a MILF sporting a g-string in low-rise jeans, I became instantly horny and started bugging Mimi to get some of these wonderful jeans.

Of course, Mimi, being the sensible woman she is, although sexually depraved (nothing of course that I am complaining about in the least), she was quite hesitant to buy them. Once bought and worn, she loved the jeans, as did I. So now she wears and adores her low rise jeans and shorts for other reasons than I. Never the less, she also started wearing g-strings with them and that really blew my mind. Now, yes I understand that underwear is supposed to be worn UNDER there, but the satiny lacy pretty things should be shown off. I think it is perfectly acceptable to decorate your butt cleavage. I mean women go out of their way to wear lacy, satiny bras all the time. And seriously, you can be shy and bashful about it, but you really do want to show off your cleavage in your hot looking lacy and mesh bras just as long as you are not sporting nipple. That would be like wearing something and sporting your clit, and even I agree that is a bit tacky. A flash now and then is ok, but out and out pussy cleavage is over the top.

So to conclude this discourse on butt cleavage, I want all you wonderfully lovely women to know, it is OK and even encouraged to sport butt cleavage. I am such a pervert, I think I will even ask that you send pics of your butt cleavage to me and I will post it. Just your butt cleavage I will post, you can send any other pics you want because Mimi loves looking at women as much as I do, but I will only post your butt cleavage pics if you send them. They can be commando, decorated with a nice g-string, you can send a collage of your own butt in various stages of dress form bare to cleaved and even showcasing your tattoos. It doesn’t matter all butt cleavage is welcome.

There is one caveat… If you have heat rash, wait till it goes away to send the picture; we only want the best pictures of your butt cleavage.

I wonder how my use of butt and breast and cleavage will fare on the internet and different search engines. I wonder?

And Fabio Fucker Was Penned....

This is going to be short and sweet. Well maybe not sweet as I am currently fuming and would reign down hail and brimstone and smite those I loathe with the anger I harbor for those incompetent ass-holes who don’t know their asses from a hole in the ground.

So I have only a moment as I have truly been working tonight and have a long and in-depth report to make because of a sad fucking comedy of inept errors by technical folks and even my peers. I mean what the fuck is the deal with three of my peers coming to stand around my desk with long faces all looking at me and asking me “… what should we do?” Like WTF do you think we should do. I swear to fucking God, I am going to lose it on the next fucker who dumps their shit off on me and expects me to clean it up and then try to answer for shit from upper management cause they mismanaged the situation to begin with! Holy fucking shit, and then you have these dumb ass techs who could fuck up a wet dream. What a bunch of douche-bags, and I wish I could be more specific, but lets just say, that this tech could have only fucked up more if he had had a diagram written in crayon and did just the opposite of was specified in the diagram. Oh wait, he did that but the diagram wasn’t in crayon it was most definitely finely printed with explicit instructions. The best part of that ass-clown ran down the crack of his mother’s ass!

So I fucking hate my job, my peers are really starting to piss me off, my manager is a backstabbing piece of shit who could not lead himself out of a Fabio’s ass-hole if had or wanted to (not saying my manager is gay, but if it would get him ahead, I bet he would fuck Fabio cause he has been fucking me enough – the proverbial fucking, not the real fucking he would give Fabio [hey maybe that will be his blog name – Fabio Fucker FF]…) and in general I am just flat out beat.

Sorry this is not one of my stellar satirical bits of humor, but unfortunately because of other people’s extreme fuck-ups I must do some work that never should have been!

"...And to think that in some countries these dogs are eaten"

Not much to discuss, talk about, or write about, cause I have no specific topics. I mean I could go on about a number of things; my suck ass job and the fact I am still here, the state of Hawaii and its bid to have a completely separate Hawaiian government specifically for those who are and can prove they are native Hawaiian (There is/was a huge move for Chamorro rights on Guam some years ago), then there is Al-Jazeera coming to the US TV waves, and of course Algore’s Network called Current (I just think this is interesting, but I refuse to go into a political rant), but hey… now there is something, a political rant… Something I won’t do!

There is actually something I want to talk about but I saw some interesting things in the news and as much as I want to open myself up to political target practice, I won’t do that. From the outset, I decided to temper my blog and shy away from political soap boxing and ranting. Why you might ask? Well, first I do it very well, almost too well; at least most who know me seem to think. But most importantly because of the huge target I become. Not from the standpoint like I give a shit what people think about the shit I would write about, hell, if I had a political blog, I promise you I would be using my real name. So it’s not that I am scared of being a target, but once again… it is my laziness. You see the fact is, I am a right wing conservative that sometimes makes Rush look left. I do have some moderate tendencies, like my penchant for porn and pot… but I have some pretty rock solid arguments for those.

Unlike some of my right wing brethren and very unlike most Libs, I do tend to read and watch the trash put out by people like Michael Moore and John Wesley Clark and Al Franken. As a matter of fact, I saw Fahrenheit 911 last week and applaud him for his ignorant and uneducated views. Michael Moore is a great American and I want all to know it too. He ranks up there with flag burners, and gun control freaks. You know why they are great Americans (and I only had this epiphany a few years ago), because they use their First Amendment rights to the fullest. They take their speech and actions to society’s tolerance. These are the people who make our country what it is and they help us to maintain the need and reliance on our Constitution.

I digress… So my friends, you see the reason I will not go much further than I have is because even though I am right about my observations, assertions, and speculations in the world of politics, I just cannot take the time to argue points and deal with all the email, and the in-depth email arguments that will come next and in the end would make your’s and my blogging experience all WORK and no fun!

The way I blog takes little thought and I do not have to worry about constructing arguments in a specific way just so I do not have to argue the point that will invariably be argued over anyway. I like the world of unstructured diatribe. I do that well. It takes me away for all the structure I have to deal with in the real world. I mean here I can write about my dog, and one specific activity I noticed my dog doing which brought to mind a profound thought… which is what I really plan on typing away about…

So if you have ever wondered why I do not blog about my political opinions, you now have the reason. I will step into the waters just a little bit, but I always immediately retract. And Mimi will tell you, if given the chance I will go on and on about politics, but here I cannot do so.

Oh as a side note, because my other favorite things besides politics is football. I added another $4.00 to my really ridiculously priced cable bill to get the Sports Tier yesterday. I did it because these chickie skateboarders who ride their boards with their g-strings popping out (only have seen this once I am ashamed to say) are really hot! Well no that is not it, for gratuitous cable voyeurism, I watch Caliente on Saturday afternoons around 2PM or 3PM EDT, I cannot recall at the moment which it is, but check it out!

The cool thing about the Sports Tier is the NFL Network. This station is pretty fucking cool, and with my cable system I get game highlights onDemand, and several games on the upper channels in addition to my network games. Plus I get a number of fox stations that show college games I wouldn’t normally get and I get local HS games for the area. So, with my son’s football starting, pro camps starting (which are televised live and rebroadcast at night) all I need is TIVO and some time to watch all this stuff and I will be on football overload.

Now for those of you who have not read my blog all the way through (like there is a voluminous amount anyway) you may not know about my puppy. Actually since I am pumped up with prescription sleep aides all the time and my memory seems to ridiculously shot at this point, I wonder if I have told anyone about my puppy… Hmmmm… well here is the deal, my puppy is not really a puppy, she just acts like it still. She is a 55+ pound ever-shedding Akita-German Shepherd mix that would look, if she had a bit longer and narrower snout, like a northern timber wolf. She is primarily white with some black and brown thrown in and has the thickest, softest fur you could imagine (This is a close approximation to my girl). I used to think I wanted a male dog that looked like this, so I could call him “Fang” or some other such intimidating name. However, my puppy is a girl and is the sweetest thing in the world. So when I go and love on her I do not have to worry about my homo-phobia creeping in, I can just love on my little girl puppy and I am comfortable in my manhood!

So last week, I heard these commercials about this store that is for all intents and purposes, a puppy factory, and I could swear those did not exist anymore. So I was quite surprised to hear this commercial for a store with dogs and cats etc… I thought these days you went to breeders, or the pound, or Humane Society, etc… This whole puppy farm thing even disturbed me. So Sunday afternoon I got Mimi and my daughter(my son is addicted to this game like Evercrack called Anarchy Online right now, so he declined to go on the family outing) and we piled into the family truckster and went to the pet store.

We find this place, which with traffic and taking an incorrect turn took us almost 40 minutes, and stayed there all of about 20 minutes maximum. Now I am a practical kind of guy and utilitarian about animals in general, with the exception of my puppy. However, I even have to admit, they shouldn’t have these puppy factories. In a way it all just seemed very mean having all these animals in this small store on display. Hell, they even had financing for the animals, which I think is insane. I mean if you cannot afford to drop some cash on an animal then go to a rescue or the Humane Society. And even that is a stretch. I know that both times I got a new dog, and having no supplies, I popped almost $300 in getting the basic things needed. So I am hedging if you are going to have a problem dropping several hundred dollars on the animal itself and you have to come up with supplies and initial vet bills, you probably should not get the pup. Sort of like if you have to ask how much a Ferrari and its insurance, you may ought to think about getting something a bit cheaper. Dontcha Think?

Earlier on Sunday, Mimi and I were talking about a myriad of things and then some how we got on the subject of Dead Ferris… Now you probably do not know shit about Ferris, the retarded, unbalanced inbred guinea rat my son once had, and which, as we look back on it today, a rather humorous demise. I mean it should never have been born and probably had lived longer due to several trips to the vet. I mean come on, who takes a fucking guinea pig to a vet. For the love of God, I swear what are you going to do, look your kid in the eye and say, “look we have to let the thing die cause the vet bill costs more than what it costs you to buy the fucking animal and all its shit?” Nope, that would be bad. So we take this fucking animal to the vet not once, not twice, but three times. I could have bought a hundred inbred one eyed fucking Ferris’, for all the vet bills I paid for that fucker… But I digress... If you want to learn about Ferris’ demise, see Mimi’s entry.

I know, what does all of this have to do with anything… well here it comes….

So I was watching my NFL network Monday afternoon and my puppy comes up to me with a toy in her mouth. She wants to play with daddy, and so I tossed the toy and she brought it back to me and I started tugging with it, and all of a sudden I had this thought, or was it an epiphany, a profound thought? I do not know what it was but it came to me that here I am in my house, with all my nice furniture and all my shit, and I have this animal. She is a really pretty animal, but literally an animal none the less. As a matter of fact I have three total animals living in my house right now, and have had a number of others that have died in previous years, but what is with us humans our need to bring animals in our houses and homes and take care of them. At one time a cave dude was probably sitting around in his cave watching the birds fly around over the majestic forest that stretched before him and his domesticated dog came up to him with a bone from a mastodon they had been munching on the previous evening wanting to play. And did this cave dude look at this mangy domesticated dog and think to himself… “Hmmm, why not I eat that fucker… he is an animal… but I love her so much, what the fuck is love, why not just eat it?”
So there you have it, I am an evolved cave dude and am just wondering why I have a dog in my house just like the cave dude back when they had roast mastodon for dinner! And not just a dog in my house, I treat this puppy like a fucking princess. But seriously, look at your animal, and put it in terms of it not being a pet, but simply an animal… you have an animal wondering around your house. Now admittedly, she gets her paws wiped with Wet Ones when she comes in, and she gets brushings and papered baths and groomings, shit she gets better spa treatments than Mimi… And the scary part is that my puppy is treated no where near as good as some of those cooky show dog people. Look if you are into showing your dog, I apologize, but if you watch the fruits and nuts on that show Showdog Moms & Dads or have seen Best in Show then you know what I mean… I have met some of you show people and even breeders and I know how over the top some of you are, so excuse me for the generalization, but seriously! Geez…

Ok, so yeah I did start thinking about all we do for this dog and how it co-exists in our house. She has her place to sleep, she knows where to eat, and not to shit or piss in the house. She will tell you when she needs out and she loves me to death. She comes to me to seek solace and snuggling. It is quite touching and fucking funny how she comes up to me and nudges me and gets all cozy then all of a sudden on her back with her legs stretched nice and wide, well yeah, ok… that part is disturbing, but you get the point. So we let these animals live in our homes and this is perfectly fine and normal.

During the moment I reflected on this, it just occurred to me how strange it really is having an ANIMAL in our house. What is even more interesting is how many people have a compulsion to have an animal in the home. So while wandering through the puppy farm, I came across this Corgi. Now I am a big dog kinda guy. I would never in a million years think to myself… Hmmm maybe I will go out and get a little tiny kinda dog, I might even go for a yappy ankle biter. Nope not me… I would never in a million years think about such an animal. Just as I would never think that, Hmmm, maybe I would like a Corgi today… Nope I wouldn’t do that either. However I did see this Corgi and he was so cuuuuuuuuuuuute (that was sort of gay, but that is how I felt at the moment), and I wonder if he could co-exist with the rest of the animals in my house. This I thought for literally 1/1millionth of a nanosecond. What the fuck am I thinking another fucking animal in the house? Holy shit was I losing my mind?

For 1/1millionth of a nanosecond I did. But that is it folks… no more than that period of time. I came back to my senses and that is when it occurred to me, what is this compulsion we (humans) for insisting on having an animal companion. I have my wife, Mimi, and she is animal enough for me many nights. So what do we need real animals in our lives? Now I understand not all of us feel like that, my mother in-laws cannot stand animals in her house. She tried to have one but it did not work out. She has the general heart for it, but can’t get into the whole taking care of the animal thing and letting it shed and get fur all over her house.

I have not found the answers to either question, but quite simply the questions are:

Why do we feel the need to have animal companionship?
Why do we insist on co-existing with those animals?

I just think those are some interesting questions to pose. I know I could not turn my princess out into the extremes of the weather and I would never forgive myself if she was not properly taken care of, and it was honestly a strange feeling when I could not pass up the opportunity to bring her home. And I have felt this way about every dog I have had… So I am open to anyone answering those questions and seeing what you think are the answer.

Searching for Cooters and Vaginas and Some Whipped Cream

I actually have a few moments of downtime and thought I would check out some blogs to catch up before I go to the pit of hell and stupidity for which I am bound tomorrow night. This way, I will have less to read more time to blog and do some other things in hopes the whole world does not blow up while working my first night back in several days. Friday night just sucked ass in more ways that even I could have imagined. But, I digress…

So reading THLs site, she had some noticeably interesting words that made up a great search… whipped, cream vagina and cooter. All of which I put into Google. Sadly enough THLs site did not come up yet, but it can only be a matter of time. If you throw into the mix something about Jonathan Antin being gay (she said it… not me, hell I didn’t know who the guy was until THL started talking about his Team America head and gayness) my bet is that you will get a hit on her right away, and seriously, who wouldn’t want to hit on THL…

So with the help of her blog and the inane search about cooters vaginas and whipped cream, I cam across one of the funniest fucking posts I have ever read. I don’t have the time to dig, but this post is just hilarious…

Disturbing Things Girls have Told or Done To Me

Hope you all enjoy.

Porn or Erotica? Whatever It Is, I Can Write Too...

2nd Post...

So as you have read, Mimi writes some pretty decent Erotica. Well a few months ago, I found a contest and wrote a 2000 - 3000 word story. Mimi thinks its pretty hot, so I am going to publish the first half and see what youguys think. BTW... I did not win the contest nor did I even place. Oh Well...

Terri’s Touch
Part 1

My name is Veronica, and I live in a suburb outside of Orlando. I work in Winter Park as a real estate attorney. I used to work in a large corporate firm, but as you will see, one day I had all I could of taking advantage of people who do not know the “ins and outs” of the world of law.

I have dark brown eyes and dark brown hair that is naturally curly with spirals, I am of average height and proportion and am now in my mid thirties. I have always felt my figure could look better; you know smaller hips and thighs, bigger boobs, but the men I have had relationships with always have been quite satisfied. I am generally a shy woman, but on occasion, my wild side does come out, even when sober. For the most part I am very practical, but tend to over analyze and question everything, which helped lead me to becoming a lawyer. I tend to dress in a conservative manner and try to maintain a professional appearance on the outside.

My husband and our children are in bed asleep, and it is late. I came across something earlier which I had forgotten about, an old journal. My husband and I lay in bed talking to one another, finishing our conversations from earlier in the evening in the tranquility of our bed. Then it was time to sleep, we kissed and said goodnight. My husband soon fell to sleep. I just could not get there, so I quietly slid out of bed so as not disturb my husband, and slipped my robe over my nakedness. I went into the study to find a book I may not have already read, which is a difficult task. I knew there was little to nothing on the shelves that I would either be interested in, or had not read. So I went to the closet. My husband frequently takes old books that do not fit on the main shelves and puts them in the closet. I looked up at the top shelf and saw something that caught my interest. As I stood on my tippy toes, reaching for my prize, I bumped a stack of other books, and out tumbled down from somewhere above in the darkness, one of my old journals. It hit the floor with a very special entry. Something I forgot about that happened when I was relatively new in the world of law.

Leading up to the episode that now lay open to me, I was seeing a therapist to help me work through some issues and deal with my idealism in the world of law. Today I am still idealistic, and believe in doing the right thing which is exactly how I run my practice. At the time though, I was in a personal and professional crisis, questioning if the law was what I wanted for my life. The lying and cheating of corporate lawyers, I despised them, and I disliked myself. I needed to find myself so I went to my therapist.

I lifted the journal from the floor and softly padded through the house in my bare feet, down the stairs, and it being a nice warm, late spring evening, out to the screened porch. A push of a button, all the window slats opened, another button, and the fan came on. I moved to the daybed facing out to the lake. I leaned against the arm and sat lengthwise on the bed, my robe falling open as I did so. The warm air felt good against my skin, and I began to read.

October 10, 2003
I am so furious right now, I cannot help but cry. What happened today, I just do not understand it, nor can I stand it either. I left today, I quit. I am tired of how people are treated, how we treat the people we are supposed to help. It pisses me off, and I told Albert to go to hell, and then just left. I emptied my briefcase on his desk, took my purse, told him I would send for my things and I left. I didn’t cry till I got to the car. I sat in the car and cried and cried.

After I stopped and could breathe normally, I called Dr. Jensen and asked if I could see him. A spot had just opened, and I drove straight over. I wiped my eyes and put some gloss on, which was all I bothered to do to fix myself. Then we sat there, for an hour. Not a word, nothing. All I heard was the clock ticking. Nothing, just the clock, and we looked at each other. I was furious, but we just sat there doing nothing only looking at each other.

My time was done. I used an hour and I still felt upset. I was angry and jobless too! I left Dr Jensen’s office and went out to the reception area to see Terri and pay her. Terri and I usually only said, “Hello,” and, “goodbye,” with the in-between exchange of small talk while processing my payment. In hindsight, I know she knew immediately that today was different. I think about her face, her deep green eyes, and the sad smile she gave me. She asked if I was alright, and I said yes, which she knew was not the truth. She asked if she could do anything, and I said no, and at the moment there really was nothing she could do. She finished with my credit card and came around the desk handing it to me. I reached to take it, my hand in hers as she handed the card back to me, lightly grasping my hand as I pulled the card to me. I felt odd for a moment, and then she moved toward me. I look back to this afternoon and it was as if in slow motion. She put her arms around me and pulled me to her giving me a hug. In hushed tones, just a bit louder than a whisper she told me things would get better, her cheek touching mine. I hugged her back and kept her close to me. I could feel her rubbing against my blouse and I was subtly aware even through my bad feelings, that this physical contact felt comforting. I felt better as she hugged me. Terri said she hoped she had not overstepped her bounds, but I just seemed like I needed a hug today. We lingered longer than I expected, but at the moment not as long as I wanted. Something about the way she touched me, not just her hand to my hand but the hug, the touch of her body to mine felt so nice.

I walked out of the office and into the elevator, pressed “LL” for the garage, and something hit me. I was still angry, I was still mad, but there was something else now. Oddly, I could not get the way Terri’s body felt against mine out of my mind. The elevator arrived at the bottom, I walked to my car. The garage was a bit dark at this time of the day as the afternoons were shortening. I got in my car and sat for a moment. I could not shake Terri. The way she felt, the way she touched me.

I slipped my heels off to drive but I sat there in the half darkness thinking about Terri and the way her breasts moved up against mine. I never felt anything in that way before. Terri was shorter than me, and looked to be in her middle to late twenties. We had talked on occasion, but nothing more than chit chat or for booking appointments. She was attractive, no doubt. I found myself remembering suddenly the Friday before last when she was wearing some low-rise jeans and a rather short top. At the time it did not occur to me, but thinking of it now, a pretty pink thong was just peeking out the top of her jeans as she reached up to a shelf to get down something for Dr. Jensen as I was leaving.

Without thinking about my actions I realized I was squeezing my thighs together slightly. And I continued thinking about that hug and how our breasts, in just that few seconds, played against one another. I could feel my nipples pushing at my bra right now. I wanted to push at my skirt as if by instinct as I squeezed my thighs and my lips together, feeling the muscles contract and relax. In a matter of seconds, my thoughts jumped to the thought of what it would be like to touch her through her blouse. My head had been tilted back as I concentrated on Terri, I moved my head downward and could see my hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly, the knuckles were white.

My grip loosened a bit, and I moved my right hand to my neck moving it down over my blouse and my breasts. They heaved as my shallow breathing began to become deeper. I thought for a moment how it could be Terri’s hand now unbuttoning my blouse, feeling my skin under her hands. I closed my eyes, tilting my head again, rocking my hips forward slightly as my hand (Terri’s hand) slipped over my breasts and into the cleavage there. I could feel the touch of her finger tips under my bra which I wanted off.

My left hand moved to my skirt, moving my hips so slightly against the seat as I started pulling my skirt up towards my hips. I could feel my lips becoming swollen. My right hand moving further under my bra till my fingers or as I imagined, Terri’s fingers, could feel my swollen and hardened nipple. I needed so badly to feel them pinched to feel some pressure applied to them. My left hand brushed the crotch of my pantyhose and rested only for seconds pressing the thin cotton/nylon against my pussy which was now becoming evermore swollen and moist.

I could not take it anymore, as I was doing this to myself, I imagined Terri was in the car with me. I could smell the fragrance from her cologne she was wearing. I hadn’t thought about it as we held each other, but its smell was magnified now and it excited me. With my eyes closed, I pictured Terri. I could see her eyes, the deep green color and her full pouting lips red with lipstick and wet from gloss and the moisture from her tongue moving over her lips. I could see her light brown hair cascading down her heart shaped face, and her smile as she looked back into my eyes. All of these images made me want her more than I could have ever imagined.

After I managed to get my skirt up over my ass, I reached down with my hands and pulled my hose off, gripping them, snagging them with my nails. I wanted them off and I needed my fingers inside me. I opened the door and stuck my left leg out of the car pushing the hose down my thighs and bent my leg till off my foot and toes the nylon came, baring my naked leg; then turning in my seat, feeling the soft slick leather against my ass, I got the hose off my other leg. Not thinking, I put my left foot down on the car’s runner and then, as I further situated myself, to the bare concrete. But I did not think about my bare feet on the concrete and the door being open and the dome light completely lit as I snapped the front of my bra open and let my breasts loose.

I pinched my nipples and spread my legs, while with my right hand I ran my fingers over and around my swollen lips. I imagined Terri’s fingers touching me, her pretty little fingers feeling the softness of my outer lips and the thick wet juices that were beginning to flow out of me in my excitement. I slowly slipped a finger inside myself while pinching one of my nipples. The sensation of my finger mixed with the pleasurable pain emanating from my nipple made me moan. I added another finger to my pussy and continued to twist and pull my nipples. I could hear my low moaning sounds as I fantasized about how badly I wanted Terri’s tongue inside me. I wanted to feel her licking my body. I pulled one of my breasts to my mouth and suckled my nipple letting it fall from my mouth after several seconds but holding on to the nipple with my teeth for a fraction of a second longer. I pushed my fingers deep inside me as I let out a louder moan. Only in hindsight do I now recall the door being open.


To Be Continued…

* Testing a Picture Repost...

First off, no post from last night because Murphy shat all upon me last night. I could not even catch a breath. So here I am going on 19 hours straight. I will probably keep going till about 10 tonight, but no worries. So I have been wanting to test the bounds of Blogger's TOS as well as their new picture posting tool. I wanted to do this another way, but I seem to be getting nowhere getting a remote directory set up to post by URL. Also, the Chuckster is disappointed I took down the pic I posted of Mimi once before. The one advantage of the Blogger too is supposed to be the fact it resizes the picture so there is less formatting I have to do. Bear in mind this is a test and only a first of many...

Lets start testing TOS.


So since this seems to work, I will post others upon approval of Mimi... Hope you enjoy!

Tying Up Loose Ends...

NOTE: As I worte this I was in a hurry and had little time to really proof. Over and above that issue my typing sucks and as Mimi pointed out to me, there are some mistakes taht look like I have no clue in spelling... Well I missed those. So in general... My apologies for my crappy proofing today!

I got some good sleep today, but I think not nearly enough. However, I did wake up nicely refreshed around 5PM today. It is now almost four AM and I am ready to go to sleep. Why am I reporting this? For no other reason than I am tired.

Now a couple of things….

I think it was season three the trend really started, but I believe season four was truly bad about it… I just cannot remember right now. At any rate, The Sapranos… The writers pissed me off so much so, I almost stopped watching the show. The last season redeemed the series. My issue is that I fucking hate loose end like the mafia… so why then do the writers of this series leave so many loose ends they could make spaghetti? I cannot fucking stand loose ends, cause there are so many things in the Sapranos that are unresolved. Now in all honesty, I cannot think of any of those things at the moment, but those two middle seasons tried to get all artsy on us and that is not what I want. If I am watching a series, movie, or show about the Mafia, I wanna see some people getting fucking killed and have some shit happen. I am really not interested in the deep psychological meaning and analogous similes and metaphors that are artfully created to provide other meaning than what is actually being portrayed. I want some fucking dead people!

I am digressing, but while I am at it, I hate shows that start off funny and end up being some blatant symbolic homo-erotic operatic circus. Fucking “Six Feet Under” had so much potential and then I am not sure where it happened but the whole thing went fucked up and serious on me. I mean holy shit, a black comedy about a dysfunctional family who run a mortuary… That is a gold mine of humor and sick jokes and simply fucked up situations. But noooooooooooooooooooooooooo… We can’t have funny, we have to turn the show into yet another artsy commentary on society. You know if you wanna watch a show about Homosexuals or Lesbians that is serious, there is the “L Word,” or “Queer as Folk,” but for fucks sake… don’t try to suck me into a show on false pretenses, I feel like I met the hot woman of my dreams, reached up her skirt and found a package (I actually have a good story about a couple of buddies of mine that did just that, I will tell it sometime maybe)… WTF is that about?

I have truly digressed at this point… So back to the whole Soprano’s thing and their loose ends… I think I have established loose ends suck ass, royally. And I think there are some that I have left over the past few weeks, so I am going to tie up a couple here and create a couple of new ones, but not out of pretension, but that is what life has dealt me at the moment.

I wrote a post some time ago about insurance companies and how fucked up they are and how they really do not give a shit about you. If you didn’t know that, I am here to tell and promise you that they don’t. Its all about the money. And they aren’t like Cuba Gooding Jr., they aren’t asking you to “Show me the money.” They simply say give it to me or we will fuck you royally and ensure you have a billion dollar hospital bill when you get into an accident and sure as shit, the moment you drop insurance you will go to the hospital, cause Murphy will come kick your ass like that just for not maintaining your coverage.

So, if you can believe it, the issue I had about our premium that has forced Mimi or I to call them almost every month for the past four months still is not resolved. That is right folks, they said, “no problem, we will fix it this time for sure…” like hell. They told us whatever it took to get us off the phone and yesterday a bill came for the past due amount. Holy shit, what do they think, if we keep getting the bill, we will finally pay because we are tired of calling their sorry asses? I think that is it, I really do! So to add insult to injury, we also get another bill stating our premiums have gone up and now we pay yet another $50+ a month. I swear we just had rate increase recently, but what the fuck? My kids insurance went up by $14 bucks and Mimi’s by freaking $40… I swear if it weren’t for lawyers, people who run insurance companies would be the most sorry excuses for humans I could imagine, but alas, the lawyers have insurance folks beat, not by much, but still beat. So there you go, I have a rate increase and the company is still fucking up our premiums. Mimi worked on it today so maybe, finally, hopefully the issue will be resolved now. More on insurance later!

The other evening I ranted about my consulting firm and the issue with time and a half. Let me tell you, these firms are so very fucked up, but I did come out looking rosy with my situation. My buddies on the other hand got the Royal Treatment. I checked my pay stubs this morning, full well expecting I would have to call someone and ream some butt holes. My last couple of statements with a pittance of OT showed I got paid correctly. So as it turns out my buddies all got the shaft on this one. I am keeping things low key, ‘cause I do not want someone going, “Well Jay is still getting his…” and they check things out and try to fuck me too… So less is more in this situation.

Speaking of “Less is More…” That is one of my mantras these days. It is so true. For example, less clothes on a hot woman is definitely more. Less flash on a car with a tricked out engine is More for unsuspecting police and hot rodder kids who want to race you all the time. No tickets for having an obviously fast car and no bullshit from over indulged punk ass teenagers whose parents have no clue when they buy ultra fast cars for their dumb ass kids. The Less your kid knows about your daily agenda, the better cause they won’t bug the shit out of you about “when are we doing/getting this/that…” You get the point, right?

I dodged a couple of bullets this week by using my Less is More philosophy. You see Upper management are like children. If you tell them too much, then questions are asked and then a can of worms are opened and then people ask more questions and things get blown out of proportion. So tell them less, and make things go away. Less is More! Works every time, assuming you have a small audience like we have during this time of the year when people are on vacation. I still hate this place, but I have gotten over a couple of times this week, which makes things easy.

Ok, now my last thing since I have been ranting and all… Did you read Mimi’s last post? Holy shit my woman is HOT. I mean she is the best sex partner I have ever had, and she is my wife. I mean she makes love, she has sex, and fucks like crazy… She is fucking hot… So yeah, she gets on top of me and she started fingering her ass and came like crazy... And watching her rocking back and forth and up and down on me while she massaged her clit and fingered her ass, especially with that extra pressure against my cock was fantastic! Ladies, I highly recommend some self fingering of your ass while you ride your significant other, as does Mimi now.

Yes, I know I have not put up any pics of her. I have been planning on posting some but some technical difficulties have prevented me from doing so. However with Blogger’s new picture posting service, assuming I do not violate their TOS, I will just post them directly to our pages this weekend.

Well, that is a lot more than I planned on writing tonight since I have a lot of work to do that I actually volunteered for if you can believe that ‘cause I know I cannot. I do not know what got into me, I volunteered to excel, WTF am I thinking?

The Temp Just Rose a Little...

3rd Post

Never intended to post anything else tonight... guess I am just making up for last week. Ok, these chicks are SMOKIN. I know Mimi will get into them as I hope other will too. I took a look at this blog for only a moment so I am going to have to check it out more... plus put a link to it when I have a moment.

Here they are! SEX ON THE ROCKS

ERnjoy, cause I did for a few moments!

I have been Office Space-ed

2nd Post of the Night!

I have been working on a blog post most of the night, not really giving a shit about this place. I am pissed. I got some fucked up news from a consulting company I have been working with on this new position I was supposed to get a start date on from last week. Well, thankfully my consultant is not jerking me around, but it appears the end client is fucking slow as molasses in January, slow like pond water… If these fucking people moved any faster, they would be moving backwards. Bureaucracy, that is what is keeping me in my hell hole.

As one of my buddies put it to me today… At least there is light at the end of the tunnel… I could give a shit about the light, I wanna get the fuck out of the tunnel and somewhere I can get a view of the landscape. In the Army, they say never give a map and compass to a Butter Bar (2nd Lt) cause they will get you lost if you are following the Yellow Brick Rd. Well, that ain’t far from the truth, I really do not know what the fuck it is, but some people couldn’t navigate themselves off the toilet. Now I am not great at a whole lot of things, but I can navigate my ass off. Give me a map, and a compass, and drop me about anywhere and tell me where you want me to end up and I will get there without any problem. I recall when I got to my first unit, we went on this field exercise and I swear to fucking God we marched for almost 12 hrs straight through the woods in a single column. I fucking could not believe this shit. As it all turned out we missed our objective by 5 hours and could have been on-site in 3 hours after we started moving. But this Lt couldn’t read a map if he had computer and Mapquest in front of him.

I feel like I am right back there today… I am marching aimlessly and enduring the torture of this place that I hate so very much. Yes I get paid, and yes I do have time to blog, and sure I could be working for half the pay or not at all. But that doesn’t matter, I am working and getting paid and it sucks, just to a different degree than if I were unemployed. I find myself apathetic and uncaring and doing just enough of what I have to do to keep from being fired.

To add insult to injury, I am talking to a buddy of mine, and he informs me that our current consulting firm started fucking us and he asked me what I thought about it. I said WTF are you talking about? He told me about how we were not making time and a half for OT work now. Ok, so let me lay it on the line, first, in my industry you generally only make straight time, but when I was offered this job it was offered with time and a half for OT, part of my SIGNED offer. Secondly, when I accepted this job, I was hungry and I was hired to perform another role. And bearing in mind most consulting gigs don’t pay OT like this one did, I took the shitty rate they offered me because when the OT was added in based on the expected work week, I would be making pretty much my normal billing rate. So I accepted the position. Now being thrust into this job I am working now, I lost most of my OT which made me none too happy since we were close to getting all our financial issues wrapped up at the time I was thrust into this bullshit position.

So now I am told these fuckers are telling my buddy no more time and a half… The reason, they told him was that based on our billing rate, we did not qualify for time and a half. But let me tell you what its really all about… You see, these fuckers at the company I work at are cutting costs every way they can to include cutting people’s pay and contractor pay when they can bully the vendors. The vendors say no problem, we will take it from our contractors. Well, there are a few of us, me included that would simply put our toys down and walk if they fucked with our pay. So they cow to this company and take it out of the backend, but if they pay OT, the consulting company loses money. Now does that make a fuck to me? No it does not folks. My buddy called them already and they gave him this song and dance about how after auditing the accounts it was discovered we were getting time and a half, and that initially they decided they would back bill us for the half time earned over the past year when we got OT. HAHAHAHA, I am fucking losing it on that. Oh yeah, come and back bill me for an agreement already made plus the fact if this is actually true, it was your mistake any fucking way! So they decided to be nice and reasonable about the whole thing, and let the past time and a half go… Well fuck them and the horse they road in on! So what am I going to do about it?

You see, I have a pretty bad temper when I am driven to the edge, but I do not yell at and abuse the people I work with or who work for me. I do not beat my wife or children. I do not randomly serial murder people, I don’t have the time to really go and work out like I should or want to do when I get like this, so this is what I do.

I generally have a list of shit to do and you all should know what I think about lists by now. So to work on something from a list sucks in the first place, but as part of my lists there are always those people you have to call, because they haven’t called you back, or they fucked something up from the beginning and still have not gotten it straight, or something wasn’t done at all, or you are just getting shitty service. Well this is one of those things that get put on my list, a nuisance list basically. Now this is a great stress reliever in the world of lists. So instead of doing something bad to people or strangers, you take your frustrations out on those people who cannot help but fuck your life up and leave you hanging!

My consultant firm is now on this list. Once I confirm with Mimi that my consulting firm has been raping me like that ghost in The Entity, I am going to turn the tables on them. No shit will be taken from those assholes who have signed a piece of paper. You know how in “Office Space”* the Bobs are talking about Milton and the fact they fixed the “glitch” so Milton won’t get paid and it will all just work itself out… Well that is what my consulting firm just pulled on me. They can fuck themselves cause now I am coming after them.

So I guess I got my rant in anyway!

*
Bob Slydell: Milton Waddams.
Dom Portwood: Who's he?
Bob Porter: You know, squirrely looking guy, mumbles a lot.
Dom Portwood: Oh, yeah.
Bob Slydell: Yeah, we can't actually find a record of him being a current employee here.
Bob Porter: I looked into it more deeply and I found that apparently what happened is that he was laid off five years ago and no one ever told him, but through some kind of glitch in the payroll department, he still gets a paycheck.
Bob Slydell: So we just went a ahead and fixed the glitch.
Bill Lumbergh: Great.
Dom Portwood: So um, Milton has been let go?
Bob Slydell: Well just a second there, professor. We uh, we fixed the *glitch*. So he won't be receiving a paycheck anymore, so it will just work itself out naturally.
Bob Porter: We always like to avoid confrontation, whenever possible. Problem solved from your end

What has Mimi done to me tonight?

I am really not sure what my wife is trying to do. I know my posts lately have been rather angry and to be honest, the plan was to come in and rip my organization a new one through my post tonight. Then I read Mimi’s post about my son. And I became somewhat misty eyed. You see, I feel my son is my first greatest creation.

He is my first born son. We have stuck with each other through some pretty rough times and I have been very strict with him, and he has had to deal with a number of less than desirable circumstances. On the other hand, he has never wanted for anything. He is truly spoiled form a materialistic standpoint and I truly know an emotional standpoint as well. But I always want better for him. I want him to have a bigger room, and I want him to live in a neighborhood with more kids. I want him not to play video games all day, which he does since there are few to no children in our neighborhood. But most of all, I know I will be losing him soon, and I really hate that.

Sometimes I know I yell at him too much, and I think back in the past about times I have yelled at him and should not have. I know he will remember some of those things till he is an adult. I hope he understands why those times occurred when he grows up, and does not remember them as “Dad just being an asshole.” I fear many times I have not been the greatest dad to him. I look at friends who take their sons on extravagant trips, and I wish I could find time to play golf with my son. I wish I could find the time and motivation to build that rocket with my son which has been sitting around for over a year now. I want to get this Wavemaster punching bag so I can do some enjoyable workouts and that my son can join me like we used to do when he was 4 & 5.

The many things I wish I could do with my son and want to do with my son… but I always feel beat or just unmotivated when finally I am on a normal schedule or at home. So my Mimi and I see him growing up, and I want to spend time with him, but cannot seem to get him out of my office playing games. I am in a quandary as to what to do because you know what…. I miss my son, even when I am at home. I would like to play video games with him, but my job forces me to look at a screens all day and I feel as hole have been burnt through my visual orbs. As a single parent I feel I was too busy having to parent and think about all the other bullshit to actually get to enjoy my son. My hopes are he will remember that he had a happy childhood.

So yes, my son is growing up and I maybe out of a bit of fatalism or simply the fact I do not want my child to grow up, I feel him moving along and it wrenches me to see him go along. No doubt that he makes me proud on a daily basis and he should be proud of himself. Academically, athletically, and in general he is great and he excels at most everything. He is smart and has finally developed a sense of humor. His achievements I believe will be boundless and I hope he grows up into a great person. Most of all I hope he grows up and becomes a better dad than I am. I do know he thinks I am a great dad, and I know I am hard upon myself, but I guess it comes down to the fact I want him to do better than me financially, professionally and all other ways a person can excel.

With all that said, I still have many years with my son, whom as I said before is my first greatest creation and achievement. My daughter is my second greatest achievement and creation. I am sure I will feel these same things about her before long. But until then I plan to enjoy my children as much as I possibly can for as long as they are “true” children. My son has already been talking about a car when he turns 15…. WTF is that all about… Yet another reason I do not want him growing up!

PC Load Paper... What the fuck is that?

OK, I am going to try to make a few of these today... Posts I mean. They will probably be sloppy and AFU but thats what you are getting...

Ok so I am doing a day shift today, and been trying to put a post together for several days. I missed Friday night cause my clients are AFU and do stupid shit... thus I was busy all night friday night.

I am still waiting on this other job... I feel like I am being cock teased... You know what I mean guys... she looks really hot and you keep getting glimpses up her skirt and she is wearing a tiney thong.... but she moves awaya dn says... "not yet baby" WTF is taht all about... so I am doing racetracks in teh air waiting to get the go (that is military lingo... sorry if I made no sense... I will circle around to that later).

So I get lucky score a day shift, and guess waht. My car effed up again, but I had $100 in coupons from the shop I take it to, and my $150 in repairs ends up being $50. Plus I went and bought a freon charger for the car, now that the cooling motor is fixed and I have A/C in my car.... That fucking rocks now.

Thinsg are looking up my freinds... We have a way to go, but between a working car, a replacement dishwasher, and potentially a new job once it stops cock teasing me, and we will be on the right track!

BTW... I just watched Office Space again last night!

Roaches, Rats And Zealots...

Wow, I have actually worked this evening and was able to think. Now you may ask, what is so special about Jay thinking… So you may not understand that I do not think doing this job, at least analytically. My thinking generally extends to determining what I should do and what I should direct my team to do so that we do not get our collective asses in a sling. Well folks, I transcended that thinking for a short time tonight. You just do not know how good that feels and I look forward to doing such things again, hopefully in the near future (as this is posted, I immediately had to revert to the more base thinking patterns and now I am just drained).

I came home angry yesterday morning. I mean I was happy to see Mimi and my baby daughter and my son, and my puppies, and that fucking bird, but I was still angry although less so once I was greeted by my family. On September 11th, I found myself nearly in tears several times. I was angry that in an unprovoked manner, zealots came to my country in an attempt to punish my country for being free and being animals and for being heretics and heathens. I was angry the zealots blasphemed God (regardless what name you give the greater power/spirit) by spilling the innocent blood in His name by bastardizing a religion that supposedly teaches religion through peace (I completely disagree with this brand of Islam being a “peaceful religion” but that is an ENTIRELY different argument). I was angry that other countries said our citizens deserved what they got. I was angry that those of the Islamic faith, most specifically their leaders, did not denounce the cowardly murders, but a number of who rejoiced and celebrated the murders. I was angry that not six months after our nation showed our solidarity, that it began falling apart. I am angry that we are more divided today than we were even before September 11th and that we have elected officials who would rather help the zealots than our own country.

Yesterday I came home angry all over again, because it has happened once again. Maybe not at the same magnitude, but it did happen again! It did not happen in this country, it happened in Britain as you all know. All the same, I was angry, whether it happened here or there. These zealots have done it yet again. Now, where are the Tom Delay’s and the Dick Durban’s and Ted Kennedy’s and Nancy Pelosi’s etc… denouncing these horrible acts. You know Delay, Kennedy, Clinton, Gore and a host of others said that Saddam, Bin Laden, and the lot were a bad bunch in 2002. Today they want to turn loose these murderers and want to treat them better than even they are treated today. I say, Bah… Our soldiers live in worse conditions than these murderous zealots. The homeless and those living in the squalor of our projects should be getting, at the very least, better treatment than those in Guantanamo Bay. They do not!

So I used to live in Savannah, GA. Now I have to tell you, if you have seen the movie “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil” there are some things about that movie that are just dead on! It is an odd town to say the least. I mean the people are friendly enough in general, but if you are an outsider and unless you are properly introduced to the insiders of the city, you just get the briefest glimpse of how strange a place it is, from day to day. Now I never met Jim Williams (he was dead by the time I ever moved to Savannah) but I did meet Mandy Nichols by accident who insisted we see the Hamilton-Turner House, thus I received a rare private tour of one of Jim William’s party houses by his fiancé. Once at Club One, I caught one of Lady Chablis’ performances before I had any idea who she was. Not long before moving from Savannah, I found myself sitting next to her and later with my father, we chatted some with her. When I started working downtown in Savannah I was introduced to Clary’s which has great hamburgers among other diner food. So as you see this movie, I can assure you that Savannah is an odd place of secrets and people in general.

In the mundane, I found that the “in” thing was living on the Marsh. I thought this was sort of strange in general. I mean pretty much anywhere, one thinks of the “marsh” as being a sad sort of boggy place. In Savannah, holy shit, if your house was on the Marsh somewhere, you were on the “in.” As it turned out, I was allowed to be swept up into the whole idea of the Marsh, and on the Marsh we lived. As a side note, funny thing about this house, I was told my next door neighbor that everyone who ever lived in that house did not live there for more than a year and invariable got a divorce. Sort of a foreboding thing and I did not disappoint the house!

I met the landlord who owned the house, worked out the deal with him discussing the house in general and rented it. After a long conversation I asked the landlord about roaches and pest control. He told me they did not have roaches there, but there were palmetto bugs, nothing to worry about. Now you check these fucking things out and you tell me what the fuck the difference is between a roach and palmetto bug. Now I have to admit I was pretty ignorant about this palmetto bug thing, but my landlord wouldn’t steer me wrong now would he? That fucker. So one night soon after moving in, I see my mutt standing at the french doors whining. Not thinking much of it I turn off the lights in the kitchen and a strange thing happened, I swear I saw the deck move in the moonlight. So I move my mutt and open the door and nothing looks out of place. A few nights later I was in the kitchen in the dark and out of the corner of my eye, I see the deck shift again, I swiftly moved to the french doors again, and peered out of the window upon the deck and HOLY SHIT, fucking roaches, so many it looked liked the fucking deck moved. I turned on the light and they all scattered.

First thing the next morning, I called my landlord and asked him WTF, you said there were no fucking roaches, and he said yes, but there were palmettos bugs. I asked him the same thing I asked you… WTF is the difference between a roach and palmetto bug? I told him I wanted an exterminator out to the house within 24 hours and I wanted a regular extermination plan or I was definitely going to go to the county about his bullshit. Next thing I know I have an exterminator killing those fuckers left and right, baits put out around the house and a regular extermination every month. Each month this guy would come to search and destroy the “PALMETTO BUGS” aka fucking roaches and I found less and less of them. So by having a regular extermination of these fuckers, I had less and less issues with them. Now that is not to say I didn’t have issues with other animals living next to the fucking Marsh. Like the damn rat that liked to eat bird food. After missing it with my neighbors .22 a couple of times (ok so we were smoking out one night, I saw the rat and he gave me his .22 and I missed a few times). Whilst sober I broke out the shotgun, blasted the feeder but got the fucking cat sized rat. Yeppers, I had to buy a new feeder (I had to rebuild ya know) but I blew the fucking rat up and no more issues with fucking marsh rats!

Well back to my anger issues… You see after 9/11, those zealots turned into roaches and rats to me. They need to be hunted down and exterminated. The world needs to be rid of them. It is our (the Free World) duty to help them quickly meet with their gods, but most probably their Satan’s. These zealots who have no remorse killing people of their own nation, of killing women and children and non-combatants, need to be exterminated without prejudice. They should thank us for letting them enjoy the luxuries of Club Gitmo (this was too funny to pass up, but you really do know what I mean). Our (our – being the free world) captives and hostages get to enjoy being blind folded and tortured and ultimately beheaded, taped and distributed over the internet. As the zealots are left to roam this earth free, they export their death to other countries and innocents far removed from the immediate danger. The roaches and rats, they feel that to bring this death and destruction is a must because we, who are not of their “peaceful” religion, should die if we do not convert. anyone see Chronicles of Riddick? Convert or Die… That is interesting!

So I was angry yesterday because as the world weakens, as the war against terror moves forward, as our soldiers die in combat in Afghanistan and in Iraq, as battle looms over Syria and Iran, the terrorists continue their bloody jihad. They are crusading, and I want you to know, whether you are a Jew, Buddhist, Hindi, Scientologist, Christian, or whatever… You are a target and your life means nothing to the zealots who are coming to hunt you down and kill you and your children and bothers and sisters, mothers and fathers. The only way to persevere is to take the fight to them, show the zealots we have resolve and show them will not hesitate to exterminate them.

I know, I know… this is once again one of my heavy handed rants and it makes me out to be such an angry person. Well I am angry about this situation. I cannot stand to know that every day a kid who should be in college or hanging out with his girlfriend or developing a new game or whatever a teenager/young adult ought to be doing isn’t doing anything like that... They are out there risking their lives so we can remain free, so we do not have to worry about buildings, planes, trains and people being blown up. When the soldiers were coming home from Vietnam, they were labeled baby-killers, and spat upon. Today our men come home as heroes, but while they are over there we bicker, and we all say “we support our troops” but some of us don’t support the president and we do not support our country’s policies, but we must support all three, else this war on terror will not end until those who threaten to convert or kill us prevail.

To those in the UK, my blessings and condolences to all those who lost loved ones go out to you.