Truth, Sex and Blogging

I Found A New Home

2008-10-09T22:09:00.002-04:00

A New Home

Just like the ugly ass mongrel of a dog that craps my house, chews my daughter's toys apart, cost me an iPOD I had to replace for my son, among other miscellaneous shit this dog did, does, and will keep doing, it found a fucking home with me. Oh and it was me who she conned first, then when we got her home, she showed her bitch ass gratitude by running away for two weeks, on Christmas day, because it's dumb ass was my daughter's present, and then dumb ass me ends up catching it... It still has its new home.

Me on the other hand have a new home out of happen stance..

Now seriously if you are new to this blog, I really have no idea how you got here because all my blogging buddies have faded out of theblogosphere. With that said, regardless how you got here, "Excerpts from Suburbia" is my new home, just because I wanted to.

If you couldn't figure it out, I just wanted to rant about this stupid muttt that is protected only by her mistress' love.... But you know one day if I am out walking it and it slips out of her collar... What's a guy gonna do, especially if she just won't come to me...

Take me Home Jay!

Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam... And Nope this is Not Monty Python

2005-09-06T17:11:00.000-04:00

SPAMMERS suck ass... and nuts, they are felchers and felchees who all give each other dirty sanchezes... SPAMMERS kiss my ass!

Sorry Folks, but I am enabling the verifier function for comments. I just had to do it. I didn't like it, but when my readers make comments about the asshole spammers, that is where I draw the line!

I Order Cake and All I Get is Apple Pie...

2005-09-05T21:03:00.000-04:00

OK folks, this is really starting to suck… like how the television sucks. Have you seen that commercial? If not let me know and I will tell you about it, but it is funny the kind of shit a TV does when it sucks!

So how am I sucking or how is “it” starting to suck? Well I have written but one post since I started my new job. Let me tell you, this job is keeping me busy. It is going to be difficult because I have a lot of players I need to get to know and to deal with, plus the fact there are problems with the project to begin with… part of why I was hired. Now do not get me wrong, I thrive on this shit, but I am staying busy with that and football with my son… So I have no time to get a post in. I am going to try another tactic and maybe do mini-posts when I can. Unfortunately I won’t be able to tell my rambling stories.

I do however want to point out, that last weekend Mimi and I went out driving and whilst on the interstate (and I do know you have read this already) Mimi went down on me and in doing such in her tiny jean skirt had her ass and pussy out for viewing by all. Now I have to tell you… I think a lot of people have no idea about what is happening around them. As I know or am confident not one person noticed what was going on. I was in disbelief.

On another note, 30Something, Roselly and Mimi have to get together somehow. Holy shit, their HNTs have been fucking awesome. Now I honestly have not scouted many HNTs lately since I have been preoccupied with actually working, but I need to see some straight out naked pics of these women, and would love to see all three together! Ok, yeah I know a fantasy… but WTF right?

So as I have told you several times, I have been super busy. I have a bunch of new toys and all sorts of new reports to fill out and all sorts of shit I am almost overwhelmed. But you know my first full week of work was last week, and the week before that, I worked only ten fucking hours for the slave shop I had been working at for over a year. You know what? I haven’t gotten paid for my last ten hours. I set everything up just so I would know I was going to get paid. Last Tuesday came and went and no pay. So I got pissed on Wednesday and climbed to a VP at my contracting firm. He told me he would call me back later that day and tell me what was happening. He didn’t call. So I called him back but his gatekeeper told me he was unavailable. I said, no problem, I would talk to his manager. I demanded a name and number. She told me she didn’t know who that was. I told her she had better get the VP or get his manager’s name and number to me because as far as I was concerned my pay issue was more important than any meeting he was in, especially after he did not call me back.

I was eventually put in touch with the VP who told me he had not had a chance to get back to me. He said my pay would be in Thursday or Friday evening. I thought nothing of it after that. I told Mimi to keep an eye on the account and went back to work. Thursday night came… no money. Friday night came… no money. Now I was fucking pissed. So I look this guy up in the phonebook. Call him at home Friday night and explained that I was sorry for disturbing him at home but my money was not in the fucking bank. The first thing he asks me is not about my money, but how I found him. I think what a fucking prick. Ok, so I will fuck with him. I said, hey… you know exactly what I do for a living, so you should know I can find anything out about anyone I want at any time. Because that is the kind of stuff I am paid to do. Now the VP is a bit freaked out and after a bit more than a pregnant pause, we discuss my issue. We will be talking in the morning

So we will see what happens tomorrow. But what a fucking weekend… You know I got this new job and I am still temporarily broke, which totally sucks because in a way it is like expecting a big fucking birthday cake only to find out it wasn’t ordered and all you have is apple fucking pie!

You would think I would have nothing to bitch about… but au contraire mon frere (I fucking hate the French) I have fooled you… I can bitch about anything huh!

Returning to the Blogosphere....

2005-08-29T20:34:00.000-04:00

Oh where do I start? It is Monday night and I am going to try and squeeze a post in before I go to sleep as I must go to my client site in the morning. I am actually sounding like a normal working kind of guy. How about that shit?

So Things went well last week. I stayed up for thirty plus hours from Tuesday evening till Wednesday evening. In that time I finished up my last night at the other company, came home, packed and thrashed around a bit making sure I was able to afford the travel. I drove to the airport, ended up parking almost a half mile from the terminal. Made it to the parking garage just as the rain hit, I made it to check my bags in, got a seat, flew up north, rented a car and got to my hotel. I had a couple of beers, ate some dinner and crashed out by ten that night.
As my last post stated, now I know how a convict feels upon being released form prison. I made a few friends where I was but not many. I felt a great burden lifted when I walked through those doors on my way out, proclaiming to the security guard, I was out of there and I would never see them again! I was happy to say it and never do I intend upon going back there again. Not even to solicit them for service!

On Thursday I met with a lot of people, but unfortunately my manager was on vacation (I was supposed to meet with him this week, but because of some testing and other things scheduled this week, my start day was bumped up, coincidentally to a week my manager was gone). However, I was able to get my hardware and manuals etc… and was able to conference with a few people about my client and get on track.

I flew back on Friday, and still things did not slow down for me. I had to answer some emails Friday night, then it seemed a myriad of things needed to be done on Saturday, including the overhaul of my office which has been neglected for some many, many months. You see, my office is one of those rooms where people simply put stuff. If you do not know where it goes or if it is cluttering the house up, stick it in Jay’s office. On top of that practice, my son shares my office and has his Playstation, a desk and computer plus his Playstation games which get scattered about. Now admittedly, I have a coupel of computers getting overhauled at the moment and I have contributed to the disarray, but holy shit, this place is horribly overrun by SHIT! And lots of SHIT. So much SHIT I am not even sure what to do with all the SHIT!
Today was basically getting set up, preparing for some meetings tomorrow, and meeting with one of my other engineers who just flew into town today. So I have literally been on the go since last Tuesday without any sort of real break till this weekend.

Well, Mimi has just gotten out of the shower, and has gone down stairs. My son is playing a game at his desk, so I think I shall go relax with Mimi.

I will tell you, I hope to tell you about some pretty hot sex Mimi and I had, an interesting conversation on the flight back home, and anything else that comes up. I am concerned my blog may become a bit mundane, and I have been trying to figure out where to go with it… But to my couple of readers, thanks for sticking with me, and I post more for the couple of you soon!

Feeling Like a Convict

2005-08-24T09:58:00.000-04:00

I am feeling like an ex-con right now, but without probation... I was set free!

That's right I am done with the one hell hole and moving on to what I hope are greener pastures.

I will post again hopefully Thursday night or Friday...

The End of a Chapter...

2005-08-24T05:52:00.000-04:00

You know what? This is my last “In The Middle of The Night” post cause I will no longer be working nights after this evening. Now that doesn’t mean I won’t be posting late at night, but surely not while I am working at this fucking hole!

Ok, so this is how it is playing out, I am working tonight to finish out my tenure my current company and tomorrow morning start with my new company by flying up north for a few days to get situated with them Unfortunately, I need to leave my wife at home. But come Friday night, I will be back home prepping for a regular weekend, you know that Saturday and Sunday thing which most of us enjoy? And to top it all off… I will get to start sleeping with my wife again on a regular basis. That means more frequent sex and more rest.

I will also base my office from home, which means I will be able to be a bit more flexible on my schedule too. There’s some changes coming on here and I like them all. We just have to make it through the next six weeks with the money situation, and things should be fine and dandy!

It is funny how the tone of my posts have recently taken the change to a more cheery attitude. The mere fact that change is coming and potentially positive things are on the horizon has given me a renewed outlook. Not to mention the ability to depressurize a bit lately after the kiddies have gone to bed!

So I shall close this short post and let you all know it will be several days before I post again, unless of course my new laptop is in, and I have a chance in the hotel Thursday night.

* Drivin and Blowin....

2005-08-21T13:46:00.000-04:00

Howdy boys and girls, y’all gather round cause Uncle Jay has a story to tell you! Nope its not one of those happy ending feel good stories… Its not even one of those horrible stories about mean people who suck. Nope it is one of Dirty Old Man Uncle Jay’s sex stories! Actually it is a few stories but they will all come together at the end I promise.

So several years ago Mimi and I were out for a night on the town and as it turns out, she drank a bit that particular night. Being a suburbanite, one thing that really sucks about going out is not only having to watch how much I drink so I can drive, but the sheer length of the drive. Quite literally it takes almost forty five minutes to drive from downtown to the house. The draw back to this lengthy drive is that it is a necessity to keep Mimi occupied while driving home else she will fall asleep.

I honestly cannot recall what dress she was wearing, but as we got on the highway, I had one hand on the wheel and my other all over and inside Mimi. Initially I started playing with her breasts and nipples caressing and pinching. Soon the top part of the dress was down below her breasts and as her fingers took over squeezing and pinching her breasts, the bottom of her dress came up over her hips, so at this point, she was nekkid (BTW, if you do not know the definition of nekkid it is defined as a person or people who are naked but are “up to something” origin is of Redneck South, ex. I showered naked but when I got in bed we was nekkid and up to something!) and was writhing about in her seat whilst I fingered her incredibly wet pussy and alternately helped her play with her nipples as well as let her suck her juices from my fingers.

Now while all this was going on, we were passing cars and trucks. I am not really sure if anyone saw us in passing, until I noticed this semi running next to us and Mimi looked up and saw the guy watching her. At that point she really did not care about anything because I was rubbing upon her clit and fingering her to orgasm. The truck stayed with us pretty much to our exit, whereupon we got home and I got nekkid too and thus we were nekkid together and we definitely up to something.

About a year before that episode, Mimi and I went to a Braves game and all the while we watched the game, Mimi imbibed copious amounts of vino. So after the game and great libations, we started our trek back to my apartment. Being the incredible sexual woman Mimi was, she had the beginnings of a party in her mouth and wanted me to come. Well what can a guy do but let his girlfriend provide some heady fun. She unzipped my pants, and began giving me an awesome blowjob, something Mimi does very, very well I might add. As she was providing me with such favors, I felt somehow I should return the favor and I was able to coax her shorts off and even being in a rather small car, was easily able to begin fingering her wet pussy (Do you see a theme here yet?). As I said, I have a small car and since we were on the highway and I didn’t have to shift I was able to provide her pleasure as well. But some pleasures like this do not come with modesty, and so as we passed other cars and trucks and semi’s, it was quite obvious a show was being given for all passerby’s. Once again, she was so into it, she really wasn’t concerned about her exhibitionist ways at that moment.

Now, I am sure that although the stories are rather arousing even without details, you may be wondering if there is a point to all of this. Well boys and girls there is… So I put to you a question. Is there etiquette regarding watching people having sex while driving? I mean seriously, lets break this down. You are blowing your man or he has you naked in the car and finger banging you to orgasm. You are in a car, you are naked and it is quite apparent, if you are engaging in such activities, you will be noticed by someone and a good chance someone may want to watch you. Am I correct? I think I am.

So the other night, I am driving home from the football game and I start to pass this couple in the car next to me and the woman is leaning over and against her significant other and at first I did not think a thing of it. But suddenly I recalled how Mimi would be sitting if she were manually fluffing me and I had to slow down. Sure enough as the couple’s car caught up to me, the woman was no longer leaning up against her significant other, but her head was bobbing up and down in his lap. Now I am thinking to myself, “Hell yeah!” I have to check this out and see how far chickie goes.

Now I admit I was looking hard, but I was not the only one, and the thing about the situation is, they seemed a bit annoyed at the attention. I have never witnessed anyone else behaving in the manner of Mimi and I until this particular evening. And I was curious, if she were going to show some skin or something, but alas, it twas not to be. As I said before, there were several onlookers other than me, as there were other cars maintaining pace with the couple. Yet, the attention, I think was unwanted.

So I go back to my primary question of, if you are going to have sexual relations in a car while driving should you not expect to be seen and watched? And my secondary question is; what is the voyeuristic etiquette in watching a couple have sexual relations in a car while driving?

I mean I think that when Mimi and I play our games on the road, that it is expected we will be spied upon and that is in some ways part of the excitement, right?

Taken while in the car.... Wonder if she were spied upon while taking those shorts off...

Some HNT Leg...

2005-08-18T21:31:00.000-04:00

ok... So Mimi asked me to post my leg for HNT, so here you go!

Looking Down the Barrel of A Gun...

2005-08-18T09:18:00.000-04:00

PREFACE: I heard a song that made me think last night, and this memory, which remains at the forefront of my mind anytime I start to do something stupid, came to me and I thought I would tell it to you.

I spent my last few years of high school at a boarding school outside of Philadelphia. And as you know I am planning a trip up there for my new position. As I was doing my work, I heard a few songs that made me think about those days at school, and you know I honestly miss being 16, 17, & 18 in high school. I had a great time in high school. But as much fun as I had, there were a couple of dark days.

Now I am not talking about problems with girls, or anything like that. I was a pretty stupid kid. I was also pretty smart, regardless of what my grades said about me. And my problem was not so much being bored, but the fact, I was always looking to make a buck, and I wanted adventure. So although I could come up with some enterprising ideas they required me doing stupid things which I did, cause I was simply a bad ass and nothing could touch me.

So there are a lot of details in the back story of this tale, but I am not going to go into it all. I ask that you take what you read at face value. You can read whatever you want into it, and you can fill the back story with your imagination, but for purposes of brevity, I am going to tell you about this microcosm of my life.

“Under The Milky Way” is one of my favorite tunes, and I can listen to the song over and over again. It is my hymn of angst as a teenager. I was looking for something but could never find it. Today I hear the song and think about how I do not feel like an adult but how I have all these adult responsibilities.

I was listening to it that night James took us into Downingtown. I had never been to this place before, and my buddy Alex decided to come with me this particular night. Before we met up with James, or rather while we waited for James, I found out why Alex was so excited about coming this evening. So we are sitting on the curb, and Alex opens his coat up and pulls out a nice nickel plated .45 semi-auto. I looked at Alex and asked him what the fuck he was doing with that thing cause there was no need for this shit. He told me it was because we were going to a new place, and he wanted to back me up. I told Alex that he shouldn’t have that shit in the first place, but he better keep the gun under wraps the entire time. I couldn’t send him back because he might have gotten busted which would have put the whole operation in jeopardy, and I didn’t have enough time to have him go back and get Mark because I did need a backup or wingman as we called it.

In the car, I sat up front, Alex in back and James was driving. The other aspect of this trip was the time, so all told, the drive was forty five minutes there and forty five minutes back. That gave me 30 minutes to get what I wanted, which should be more than enough time to get what was needed. We all chatted, but even James was a jittery. He was normally all laid back and chilled out. But he told me the day before if I wanted to go to one place to get the stuff, he knew these guys would square him away, but he never used them before.

We pulled off the turnpike and into the small dirty little town (hey if you are from D-town reading this story, it took place back in 1985 so hopefully things have gotten better since then) wove through some streets and ended up in front of this little house. I recall it had that sort of gingerbread trim running the length of the roof and there was a walk right up to the door, with a little step. James stopped the car and told me to be cool, he would signal me in when they were ready. I said, “cool,” and Alex did the same. We sat in the car waiting. After a few minutes I saw the door open and James motioned his hands for us to come to him. Both Alex and I got out of the car and strode up to the door. I came in first, and then Alex behind me. I was introduced to the two guys. I don’t remember their names, but I sort of recall what they looked like. The one behind the scale had a doo-rag on head and had some surgical gloves. The other one, well I really do not recall what he looked like for obvious reasons you will soon understand. I do know he was bald and had a gold tooth.

As I envision this scene (I have looked back upon this many times through out my life and I seem to play the whole thing from a third person perspective) I walked up to the guy with the scale and was basically by myself. It is sort of like the scene where Oliver approaches the headmaster, “Please Sir, may I have some more…” But instead of a bowl, in my hands, I had a wad of cash in my pockets. So being properly introduced, Alex and James hung back at the door while I conducted some hasty business.

The guy at the scale asks me how much I want, I tell him two ounces of weed, and three grams of blow. The guy looks at me and says, “boy, you know that is $100 a gram right?” I tell him yeah, no problem, and he says, “whatever you want man,” and on the table his partner drops a couple of nice hefty bags of weed and the doo-rag guy pulls out three vials from his pocket and puts it on the table. OK, so my new buddy is measuring shit on his scale and he expects me to take some vials of who knows what and pay him $300 bucks for it? I think not, so I say to the guy something like, “hey man… not trying to be an ass, but could I have some of that fresh and I will wait while you measure it out?”

Well that was the wrong thing to say, I think. I mean I could trust James to fetch me a gram when I wanted it and I had no problems with that. But this guy, wanted $300 for three vials that could have been fucking detergent. But that didn’t matter, the next thing I know this guy is standing up calling me a punk motherfucker and asking me who I fucking thought I was. Prancing in wanting three grams… he told me he shit three grams for breakfast. And so the next thing I know his buddy, the bald guy, is asking me where my money was, and I told him in my pocket. So he tells me to take it out. I tell them, that we should call the whole fucking thing off. They tell me they will call it off after they have my fucking money for wasting their time. I tell them that I am just going to leave and now everyone is yelling. James is telling these guys that we are just kids and chill out. Alex is telling the guy with the bald head to back off, and that is when things went to shit.

Next thing I know I have this bald guy with a gold tooth in my face and have a 9mm or some such gun at the side of my head. This guy is telling me if I want to live, I better let him see some cash. Ok, so there are no fucking heroics here, I am 17 years old and this fucker has a gun to my head. I am stuttering at this time, telling him sure. But no sooner had I started defusing the situation Alex pulls his gun, and tells the bald guy to put his fucking gun down. Ok, so I am now half turned around, with a gun pointed at my head and my buddy is pointing his gun (and I have to tell you, if bullets started flying, I know Alex would have died cause he had never shot a gun in his life) at the fucker with his gun leveled at my face.

I yell at Alex to back off, and I look at my guy and tell him, to chill, that I was going to pull out my cash, I would drop it to the floor, and we would just back out. We would never see each other again. So out came this wad of cash, I dropped it on the floor, and backed away while Alex kept his gun trained on the bald guy.

I lost over $700 dollars that night, but I did not lose my life. On the way home, I heard that Phil Collins song, “In the Air Tonight.” As odd as it is, I find it difficult to listen to that song even so many years later. I can listen to The Church all day long, but “In The Air Tonight,” reminds me of my mortality and how close I came that night to experiencing my mortality.

The Chamber of Hell and Dancing At The Chamber...

2005-08-18T06:20:00.000-04:00

After tonight, I have only four more nights of this shit. I am starting to get those butterflies (you know the ones you get when you move from one thing to a next) as I start contemplating what comes next. I know financially, things will be a bit rough to begin with because of paychecks and the change of how and when I get paid, but that will work itself out. But overall, I find I have a renewed sense of purpose and a calm has washed over me knowing I have a finite time left at this place.

With me moving to a more normal schedule, I began contemplating tonight how it would affect my blogging. My intention is to post something most every day. However, the content may be a bit different, especially since I do not plan to bitch about my job, cause WTF do I have to bitch about at this point… I will be working from home in general, working days, little travel and when I am not at home, the client sites are not so far away from home.

As my days here at my current circle of Hell come to a close, I honestly have to say, the end could not come any faster. I would like to rocket ahead to next week, but I know I cannot. So I will bide my next forty six hours (at the time I am typing this). Currently, I feel like a babysitter taking care and mediating between grown up children. I have two people who do not get along with one another. One is straight laced, by the book who will “tell on” someone in a heartbeat. I have another who is being held back because of “da man” and I am having to mediate between these two folks because the one who is being held back wants to ignore a process and do something he wants to do, which confuses the already confused situation… do you know what the fuck I am talking about?

Let me go on to something you may be familiar with… I am listening to some sex music right now. No, its not the Ron Jeremy porn movie music, its some good dance club sex music by Enigma and Depeche Mode and Wumpscut, etc… All of which reminds me of this club Mimi and I used to go to before it closed down. The club was called the Chamber and it was fucking awesome. Now this is one of those places that do not even start getting started till midnight. So what’s the deal with this club… it is a goth type sex club. They had three dance platforms and a main stage. The dress is casual goth so one must wearing black and are expose lots of skin. Now normal looking folks would go as well (me being one of those non dressing up types) and it was quite an interesting people watching place. I mean there was all kinds of crazy shit would go on there.

I recall once (Mimi swears she does not remember this) we were there and there was this couple who was nothing but trouble. She was dressed in a very tiny skirt and top and he was a pretty tall guy, cause I remember he towered over her. This girl was apparently upset because the guy was paying her no attention, and she was doing everything she could to get his attention. I mean they were a couple, but this guy was giving his girl the cold shoulder. I know she left for a time and the guy started dancing with this other chick, but would not dance with his girl.

So after some dancing, Mimi wanted to sit, have a drink and chill out for a bit. So we moved over to this little area where they had some couches and chairs. With new drinks, smokes, and a place to sit we found a couch that was mostly empty. We sat down and in front of me was the same couple I had seen on the dance floor. Mimi, who was sitting next to me had a couple of other girls sitting next to her and around us. There were several guys in the mix as well, and all of us were now watching this girl who was scantily dressed at best. What I recall was how this guy looked as if he was only interested in exposing his girl and little else. She was in his lap and he had his hands up under her skirt all the while pulling the skirt up until he had the skirt pulled to her hips, and fully exposed, and he did not stop there, this guy had pulled her straps of her top down off her shoulders so her tits were completely exposed (something I would love to do with Mimi) but still the guy seemed disinterested as if he were allowing her to put on a show for others around him.

As it turned out, Mimi and the other women had been talking and I was warned about watching the couple by Mimi, and I seem to recall hearing something from the girls Mimi was chatting with in regards to the other girl being a slut. Well, even though Mimi does not recall this episode, we did leave shortly after the girl was pretty much naked and I recall that Mimi was none too happy. My guess was, she was simply tired as I am sure it was somewhere near 2AM by that time.

So really the only reason I thought of that was because of the music I was listening to (several hours ago – I am finishing this post out many hours after starting) this evening.

So as you know, Mimi wouldn’t go wash the car in the attire I wanted, so we will have to put that off till another weekend. I suspect the weekend of the September 15th, we may go out. I owe Mimi a night out for our Anniversary, and we will also be able to celebrate the new job and the first paycheck. I have something in mind and she will have to bring along her black dress for the second half of the evening, but we shall have to see how things go over the next few weeks.

Massages and Facials in Suburbia...

2005-08-17T04:01:00.000-04:00

First, I would like to make mention Mimi has not been in such a great mood lately, and thus not as amorous as normal and certainly not as adventurous as she might be.

It is unfortunate that your clamoring and calls for her to wash the car with me did not workout, but fear not readers, we might yet be able to goad her into such a situation soon, as soon as she can center herself.

In answering back to numerous comments she received from one of her posts, Mimi mentioned something about massage therapy. This is something she has recently started talking about with me. At any rate, I believe it was the Chuckster who asked her something regarding one of those full service type massage places. Well sorry, not gonna happen. But that did remind Mimi of a story she touched on and I think I will tell you all since it is actually quite humorous!

So here is the deal. We live in a rather quiet suburb of Atlanta, very far out and to the north. So I have this friend of mine who is an officer on the local police force. This is one of those towns where you have to drive slow or else they pull your for going a fraction of a mile over the limit and hit you with a full fine. Now I know or have grown to know that there is a darker element in our little town since my buddy joined the police force. Officer Bob has educated me about the drug arrests at a local hotel, and we had a drive by shooting, and there are car chases and robberies, etc… Basically our little town has a small criminal element, but nothing one really notices unless they know a cop.

At one time, when I was working a normal schedule and I was making some cash, and we were pulling out of our financial nose dive, I played around with the idea of getting Mimi an in-home massage. So I picked up this local rag we have in the ATL area and for many weeks looked to try and find my Mimi someone affordable, and in our area that might want to give Mimi a Massage. Ok, and yes… ulterior motives were involved. I should also mention I am always looking for a new place to send Mimi for massages and the such, hoping to find a nice little day spa locally that is reasonable in its cost (still haven’t found what I am looking for there). So at Any rate, I come across an ad for a spa in this rag (which is a great way to advertise inexpensively) and saw it was on a road just down the street from us.

Ok, so I am not naïve to say the least, although I have never partaken, I do know what goes on in massage joints; I lived in Korea, and other places overseas so although not experienced, I am versed in these establishments. With that said, I was quite confused that a place like that might open up in our town. So knowing our town and neighborhood, and certainly not believing it could ever be a Korean type massage parlor, I went to check it out. So I cruise over there and walk in, and Holy shit… WTF is this? I cannot believe in my little town, there is a real live Mama-san massage parlor. The window flies open, and Adjima (same as a Mama-san) says, “can I help you.”

So just to make sure I was where I thought I was, I said, I was looking for a place to bring my wife for a massage, I asked her what kind of facilities they had for my wife, and she asks me if my wife likes girls. Well now… I know we are all on the same page of music now, and I tell Adjima, its ok, and I will see her later, and I walked out. Now I am not entirely opposed to taking Mimi to one of those places, but I am certainly not going to do so in our little slice of suburbia. I could see my buddy coming and raiding this place while were there… Not a good picture, I can tell you. Because I knew it was only a matter of time before this place was raided. In downtown Atlanta, there’s no problem with these places. But in the burbs, I was really wondering WTF were these people thinking.

Ok, now I have this other friend of mine, her name is Dee. And Dee is a nice attractive woman, probably a MILF but she has a more athletic bod with not so many curves Nothing like my type of woman, but we are pretty good friends, and Mimi calls her one of my girlfriends. So Dee, who is naïve, and is literally a lifetime suburbanite, who main experience in a city is probably a concert or a nice elegant dinner out, has no clue about anything. I mean she is sweet and I really do like her and all but she seems to me a very much missionary type person, and Mimi agrees. So we are at a social gathering and I am talking to her and a couple of other wives, and some how something is said about something which triggered Dee. Suddenly Dee turns to me, puts her hand on my shoulder and says, “You will not believe what happened to me and B (her daughter).”

So she is telling me about it being B’s birthday and she was looking for a place they could go for a mother/daughter spa treatment. Well folks, you guessed it. My friend takes her daughter to this place, and they walk in. Dee tells me immediately she felt uncomfortable and was not sure about the place. So the Adjima opens the glass window and sees who it is, and my friend Dee tries to converse with her, and is asking about getting her daughter a facial! Well I just fucking started rolling with her telling me that. I mean, the irony of what she is asking and believe me, she has no idea what a facial is from a sexual standpoint. But I am imagining this woman, in her tennis skirt or something with her daughter asking for a facial from a massage parlor catering to men’s special massages… It was a vision of beauty and much internal laughter.

So the worst part of this whole episode was that I had to explain to her what was going on. She knew something was odd, especially after they refused to talk to her, but could not put her finger on where the problem was exactly. So I had to explain to her what that place was and that I visited it some weeks before. A good laugh was being had when another buddy of mine who has his office across the street form the strip mall this parlor was located and my police officer buddy both walk up on us. As it turns out, my buddy who is a lawyer was doing something in his office and one of his paralegals yells to him to come to the window (this happened only days before this conversation) and sure enough, our police department was closing the place down and raiding it. So our police officer buddy pipes up and starts telling us, “Oh yeah, they are closing that place down, there will be no way that place stays open.” So apparently they had a guy go inside, tape a conversation, and then the raid begun. They took a couple of Johns to jail, and everyone in the place. They let the owners bail out, open that night and they were raided again, so the night folks could get booked too, and yet a few more John’s got taken in.

I think the place stayed open about eight weeks in out quiet little burb. How in the world, these people thought they could open a massage parlor in Vanilla Southern Bible Belt Suburban America is so far beyond me as to not even comprehend their thinking. Never the less, my friend went to get a facial for her daughter and I was looking to get a special massage for my wife. That is just funny as shit.

Mimi's Wet Panties...

2005-08-13T09:01:00.000-04:00

I slept well yesterday… actually too well. I took a double dose of my sleeping aid which knocked me out cold till my wife and daughter came and woke me up almost eight hours later. But alas… I still feel fatigued. I think it has something to do with the whole “working when the body wants to sleep thing”, ya know?

However, that will be over soon. Yes, I may have to work long hours and I may have to work all night long some times. Most likely not, but you never know. I will not have to endure these dumb ass hours that I have had to endure since November of last year.

Hey, so I had this idea, and wanted to ask my four or five readers what you think. You see, I had this idea the other day. I know Mimi has posted some wet t-shirt pics and you know I was thinking about how sexy she looked in those pics and then wondered how she would look in white panties, and a white t-shirt and washing the cars. So I have decided that she will help me wash the cars on Monday in a white t-shirt and white panties.

She is not so keen on my idea. In fact she said no, and as I persisted, she said we would talk about it later. I will be breaching the subject tonight and tomorrow and try to wear her down. Now why do I want her to do this? Well I think it would be hot and the cars need washing anyways, plus it would be a great photo op. Now what would be very cool, is doing this at one of those commercial car washing places. Unfortunately we rarely have the adult alone time to do such things. I mean this Sunday would be great for something like that but we will be busy with other obligations related to my son’s football team. So no nekkid fun Sunday.

For the past eight months I have spent my Monday’s and Tuesdays working. Either I have been doing my personal client work or I have been job hunting. Well not this Monday. I am going to relax. I have a couple of computers to work on in a most desperate way, which I shall try to start on Sunday, and I have the lawn to mow. That is all I have really scheduled. So I figure since the boy is off to school, and Mimi’s “Horny Time” is the afternoon, and we will be alone and there is little to no traffic in our neighborhood during the day this ought to be fun. Now wouldn’t you all like to see my Mimi being naughty in wet white panties and t-shirt? I would!

So I need your help. Leave me as many comments as possible by Monday so we all might convince my wife to be naughty!

This is a pic of Mimi in a wet t-shirt… I need to make some more pics, I am thinking of something on the hood of a car….

Good News, Bad News, Disappointment and Rejoicing...

2005-08-12T05:38:00.000-04:00

I am a number. What number I am is really not relevant, but a number I am no less. We walk in and out of buildings and we sign in or we use our badge key or even use both things to come and go from our office. In some cases we walk on to an elevator and crowded in this elevator, we disperse to different places on different floors. From a great distance we are like many ants toiling and ceaselessly working. Sure we have weekends, but what do we do for weekends? We come home and get hopelessly drunk or stoned, or maybe we enjoy the night stone cold sober. But come Saturday morning there are yards to cut, there are projects to start and complete. Come Sunday morning we go to church, unless you practice a religion other than Christianity, and if that is the case, you might have already attended a religious service. Some wake up on Sunday morning and have a nice breakfast and by the time Church is complete, breakfast made, eaten and cleaned up, it is late morning and yet, more projects or yard work needs to be done. We may have a few minutes to have “Family” time or some down time to re-charge. On Monday morning we are once again little worker ants.

So I ask you… On Monday morning does anyone really care if you come to work? Besides the fact there are TPS reports to complete and meetings to make because you are the “expert.” They really do not care. You and I are expendable. Did they really take you into consideration when they came to you and said, “oh, by the way… we have to let you go…” No they didn’t give a shit about you, some asshole in another state did some math and found you got paid way too much, or his buddy does the same thing as you, and even though your performance is better, his buddy is staying and you are not. No, Corporate America doesn’t give a shit about who you are or your circumstances. CA is only concerned about the bottom line. If you are not a producer, and are not bringing in the numbers… you are history. It doesn’t matter that your wife had a brand new baby 3 months ago. Nope, that shit doesn’t matter. They do not care that you worked your ass off doing sixty to seventy hours a week so their shit ass sales force can fuck up sales by selling shit the company doesn’t even offer, and when they come to you they beg you for a fucking solution.

I still today cannot believe I asked “why me… why not Joe…” What a fucking schmuck I was. I mean I was really pissed at the company and I was asking why one of my direct reports did not get the axe instead of me. And that guy went on to take my position.

But I am a number. It doesn’t matter that I have seen the brink of financial destruction, and I have survived the worst of it all the while taking care of my obligations. I might have been late here and there, and it may have taken a while to get regular payment on track and it may have taken some negotiation to get an affordable payment. But that is not the point. The point is, that I am a number and because of X, Y, and Z, my NUMBERS do not look right so fuck you.

Yeah I am sounding pretty bitter. I got a new job today. I got offered a pretty fucking nice salary, with a full benefits package. And that is fucking awesome. But a cloud looms over me. I am still a slave to CA, and I am creditless, and am taking a position that is completely new to me, even though it is within the field I practice. I may be tired, I am certainly not ungrateful. I think I am just tentative. In fact I am most peeved about how I am leaving the current organization with which I am employed.

You see, I had a fantasy. With all the shit I have endured and all the crap that has been thrown at me, I wanted to leave with a bang. Now I am leaving like any other employee. You know they say never burn bridges… well I was going to destroy the bridge with a nuclear weapon. I am sure I have at least alluded to the fact, my position, a job though it may be, is a key position in my organization from an operational standpoint. And that it takes several months to train someone how to do this job decently and a while to do it effectively.

My fantasy, which has been dashed, was to leave at a moment’s notice. But I also held out that I might also make a little money out of a promise to stay for two weeks. However this was only under the ability to be on-boarded at my new organization. My new organization gave me a two week window to report. So here I am at my current job being forced to wait. And unfortunately I need to maintain cash flow, so I can’t just fucking walk, which I wish I could do. The satisfaction meter would jump the scale!

My Fantasy was to call my contracting company, tell them my last day is tomorrow. But I will work for two weeks if I get a ten percent bump and eighty hours additional pay at the end of the two weeks. Otherwise I was just going to walk. And I had no plans to tell anyone here. But as I have said… all has been dashed by my new company because my HR person will be on vacation next week and she has to prepare a number of things so I really could not start as soon as Monday.

I have been imagining how I would go see my manager here, and tell him I was walking, see ya, have a nice life. But that is assuming I had a job to go to tomorrow. I do not and being the principled kind of guy I am, I am not sure I would feel right waiting for two weeks and walking. Too many things could happen; too many issues could arise between now and then. It would also be a purely spiteful thing to do. I mean if I was offered today and they asked for me to start or told me I could start Monday, hey what am I going to do, say no? I think not!

As it turns out, my fantasy is smashed to a million pieces. I will put in my two weeks properly and deal with another eight shifts including tonight’s shift. I am taking off the Friday before my new job simply because I really won’t have Sunday off since I will be flying north to meet with some people and do a few days of training. And secondly, I think I deserve a couple of days off. I would like to take the whole week, but we cannot go that long without cash flow.

In some ways I feel a total let down. I expected a parade and cheers and all sorts of fanfare, but I seemed to have adopted a whole new set of concerns and issues. My main concern is the fact I have no credit to my name. Before I got laid off, things were tight and we were bleeding money, but with some help from parentals, I was able to prop us back up. And yes things did get behind after being laid off and I did have to pick and choose what got paid and what did not. But by the time I started this position, I was on the verge of bringing everything back together. I was then relegated to this position (a promotion they told me, just that I did not get OT which is my gravy) and I made some very tough decisions after Christmas to prevent us from having to claim bankruptcy. I let Mimi take over bills, so she could better concentrate on them and we entered consumer credit counseling since I could not get most creditors to negotiate with me. I did this knowing full well that CCS would wreck our credit even more than it had already been wrecked to date. But the pay off was negotiated interest rates, suspension of fees and loss of credit lines. But I knew that was the only way we could save ourselves.

Today we live frugally and although it is a struggle each month, with the money I bring in from various jobs, and Mimi’s sitting, we get by. I know we will soon have a decent lifestyle change as long as we remain disciplined. And this is an opportunity for us to get back on our feet and make other things happen. Unfortunately the lingering effects of the past few years have dampened the good news I have just received not to mention all the work it has taken to receive this news. I have never interviewed so many times and at such depths with any organization to get a position, but I am thankful for the opportunity. Now I just need to get this financial thing back under control.

Now, on the bright side, I have a new job, I will be starting in two weeks. It is in the field I enjoy most, and it is a consulting role at which I should be able to excel. With the switch back to a normal schedule, with me not having to look for a job on my every minute off, I do have a business plan I plan to put into action and with Mimi’s assistance, have another source of revenue. The best part of this business plan, is that should it work out, Mimi and I will have fun implementing it as it will require us to know what we will be selling to our future clients. And who knows… You may be one of those clients, and maybe this time next year, I will experience another lifestyle change.

When I roll out my product/service, I promise I will let you all know about it.

Fantasies, Furtune and HNT with Mimi...

2005-08-11T06:35:00.000-04:00

Today I am living in a bit of a fantasy world. I am on the verge of something great… But I am not sure if it is all fantasy, or if God is really about to grace me with something good. Athletes are superstitious in that sometimes, they where the same pair of socks or when I wrestled, I listened to the same song before I went out to a match to get psyched up. When I was in the army, I wore this knife on my harness, and wore it the same way every time I went out to the field. These are lucky charms. None of these actions make any sense, none are rational, but it seems when you do not re-attach your knife, or do not wear the special socks or use the right bat or listen to the one song that psyches you up, shit happens. Not just regular shit, but bad shit.

I also believe in hard work, helping others and I seem to have begun to believe in karma a whole lot more in the past year. Although, I still talk serious shit about people and am rude to people from time to time, I think it may be less now than maybe a year or two ago. This place I work at right now has humbled me and shown me some humility. So with Karma, the prayers of family and friends, I feel as if I am on a verge of a break through. I don’t have a lucky charm at the moment because I feel I have been so unlucky for so long. I also do not know when this fortunate occurrence will be bestowed upon me, today, tomorrow, I do not know when exactly. But I shall tell all as soon as it happens. I have a fantasy about a conversation I want to have as well, should this fortune be bestowed upon me. But rather than jinx it, I am going to concentrate on something pleasurable and nice. My Mimi, Half Nekkid.

We were out one evening, she in her plaid skirt, a mesh bra and sheer blouse and CFM heels. Me in, well WTF, like you care what I was wearing. I took this pic of her at a mall, and a great deal of other pics at a train station and on the train. I am quite sure the night ended up with much sex and love making. Unfortunately my memory is all jumbled due to the lack of sleep or rather lack of good sleep and drug which induced the sleep I enjoyed today, while Mimi loudly got herself off!

You know, what would be cool, to get some suggestions from readers for places to take pics… We had asked for some suggestion about locations to have sex and received little response. I dare say a major church is out of the question, but most everything else is… especially since my schedule may just change here pretty soon.

Hell in Suburbia

2005-08-09T12:18:00.000-04:00

I need to make a post… mainly because I am going insane. No I am not really, but you know I hear a lot of women who complain their husbands do not appreciate what they do around the house. Well I am not one of those. Maybe it is because I was a single parent at one point, maybe it is because I am just that fucking observant. But as sucky as my job is (and if you do not know how sucky my job is, you need to either stop reading this blog or go back through the blog and read it so you will know how it ranks on the suckitude scale cause on a scale of one to seven it is s fucking 14!) I would not stay at home with children all day long. That would fucking suck bear nuts, big fucking grizzly bear nuts…

Ok, so I am at home today, after my gauntlet six nights of hell at the pit of shit I work in at least four days a week, and babies are wailing. Not just crying, but wailing. For two fucking days straight. The Man Baby just pisses me off too… she gets whatever the fuck attention she wants at home by her mother and three siblings and when something doesn’t go her way she expects someone to come and comfort her. No way Jose… that is not how you take care of a child. The world sucks and you will never get someone to hold your hand every minute of the day. You have to instill that in the child early on and not comfort them every time that something doesn’t work for them. You spoil them that way. So my daughter takes a set of play keys the Man Baby (MB) was playing with two seconds ago, and MB loses her every loving shit. So you tell her to come of to you and she wails even louder. She expects you to come and get her, get the fucking keys and comfort her. Well fuck that shit!

Now my daughter on the other hand doesn’t get that attention. Now that doesn’t mean she receives no affection. On the contrary, that child has me wrapped like my wife has me wrapped. But I refuse to coddle her when she trips on the floor and lands on padded carpet. If she wants some cuddling, she can get up and come over to me. It’s not like she just tripped down a flight of stairs and broke her femur, right?

Ok, so for the past two days I get MB crying at every little thing and my mobile and agile daughter who climbs like a monkey cannot stay in her cage. Well its not really a cage, it is a giant fucking room with a 36 inch TV, tons of toys, a VCR and DVD with a wealth of videos and tons of cable channels. There are big toys and little toys to play with. I have this place gated off with child gates, and my girl refuses to stay in there. I have asked her, yelled at her, and popped her on the diaper… will she stay in? Hell fucking no… like a little monkey she has defied every obstacle or movement of furniture we have put in the way or arranged. So what does she do when she gets out, she goes to the kitchen while you are cooking dinner, or she is eating dog food (that’s right I shit you not, my daughter finds dog food to be a delicacy) and she is into everything she can get her little hands upon. And she does not stay still, she grabs dog food while on the move to destroy or break the next things she has her eyes upon. I mean it is like she is the energizer bunny with lithium ion batteries that are over-clocked or some shit. I do not know what it is, she never runs out of energy. She is worse than my son ever was in that respect.

Today is my second day off and I finally feel like a human, after a couple of days of recuperation and a 30 hour stint from Saturday till Sunday night. I have an interview tomorrow, and I am in the process of doing some data copy work for a personal client and a webpage for another client, I have to swap a hard drive for one of my computers and I am downloading some movies. I also need to mow the lawn but since it will not stop raining and will not dry out for even a day, my yard looks like the deepest darkest jungles of the Amazon. Five years it has taken me to get the lawn grown in, both front and back and I cannot mow it without screwing it up… I am just going to wait till it is dry! So I have pretty much been stuck inside with these screaming banshees and it is driving me quite insane.

Mimi was starting to lose it this morning with a minor meltdown because MB was crying incessantly and my daughter would not stay in the cage. Over the gate she kept climbing, each time Mimi would tell her no, and each time she would climb over the gate again. Mimi popped her in the butt and the daughter lost her shit. Then Mimi, lost her shit… I sent Mimi for a walk as she was about to do a workout tape and I stayed with the girls. I have never suggested what Mimi or any stay at home mom does is easy. I mean taking care of the kids, getting the older ones organized with homework before sports, taking care of the house, shopping for groceries. It’s a whole lot of shit I cannot stand. I would lose my mind in a week. I definitely will take my place in hell before hers. Now I grant you, her place is probably much more satisfying from time to time, but overall the emotional drain is ridiculous. I swear I cannot see how Mimi stays horny like she does with all that she contends with on a daily basis.

So I am in my office trying to do all the shit I need to do and Mimi is taking care of the girls and I am the one losing my mind. Go fucking figure.

Well I have some more stuff to do, and I need to finish a couple of posts I already started like the one where my manager told one of my peers (an employee) that Jay is “just a fucking contractor,” well I got a big fucking surprise for him. It may not happen this week, and not next week or even next month, but when I get a job, I am fucking walking. I have made up my mind and that is it. I am going to hang those fuckers high and dry. And oh, by the way…remember… I am “just a fucking contractor!”

Fabio Fucker Returns...

2005-08-06T09:04:00.000-04:00

You know, I wrote a long involved post about slutty women and women who call other women slutty. But never posted it because is was so long and involved it bored the living shit out of me while I was writing it.

Tonight I started another post about porn and Mimi and a post she wrote yesterday and how it turned me on. I was also going to comment about a post 30Something made on her blog and how I popped wood reading about her fucking this guy and cumming four times. And still I was uninspired and bored. I mean what the fuck, being bored writing about women writing porn?

I know why I could not get into the groove of writing. I really do have to feel inspired and there is something at the forefront of my mind besides pretentious chickies who have “better than thou attitudes,’ and serious ego and image issues.

I am going to talk about a subject that I talk about quite often, my work. I think I have told you how much I loathe this pit of hell. I diligently tried to identify the circle and subsequent chasm of hell I reside but I cannot seem to exactly identify the circle as this place seems to span many of the circles. Dante could have come to this place and never have had to hit hell proper. I seem to think this company was designed in the image of Dante’s inferno actually. There are gluttons, and blasphemers and traitors and about the only thing not present are the violent people but they probably wait till they get home and take their shit out on their family. So the actually do reside in this chamber of corporate horrors each day and we just do not glimpse the cause of their hell.

So why am I here? Well I am a blasphemer and I do enjoy my share of sodomy, and and my writing may have helped extend my stay here, but most of all I think I am here in a purgatory type purpose. But who the fuck knows, right? Ok, so I have no identified, yet again, how fucking much I loathe this place.

So I have related I am a contractor at this loathsome place, and I have been searching for a job for over 8 months now, while working at this place for over 13 months. I work with a number of people I cannot stand, the most loathsome of them all is my manager FF (for more information about Fabio Fucker, see my FF post). You see he is a spineless backstabbing, two faced, non managing, leaderless sack of shit douchebag.

*Well, I wanted to finish this but unfortunately I could not… But I will leave you all hanging with where I was going with all of this, and I will finish tonight since I am working yet again… Good News (I already have Gieco) I do get OT for last night and tonight!

WTF? Rabs Searching For Pedophilic Porn...

2005-08-05T06:36:00.000-04:00

Ok, this is just fucked up. I am not really sure how else to put it. And fuck… these search sites, I am so embarrassed, but I have to publish this shit.

So I checked my key word search and some sick fucker in the United Arab Emirates was searching for the following shit and somehow got to my site:

….son saw i am having sex <- That is just fucking sick you sick UAE bastard!

Ok, now this next one is my fault. I swear I forgot where I talked about it, but I know I mentioned it somewhere and sure enough some felching fucker searched this:

Analingus

And found my blog. Fuck… now what am I going to do… Felching Pedophilic Rabs… What is this world coming to?

*All Nekkid Friday

2005-08-05T06:23:00.000-04:00

I was going to post another of my long rambling posts today. I think I may not. I do not have time to write something else and I think I will save what I wrote and possibly re-write it so it is actually funny.

I am also pretty beat and still have yet another two nights to go for this week. I hope I have not many more nights ahead of me and I can make posts in the evening when I am relaxing preparing to go to sleep with my wife, who I desperately miss. I have not slept with my wife since Sunday night. I feel like my home is simply a place to sleep and eat and see my family as I quickly pass by.

I also want to mention another new blog crush I have developed, I will post her site later this weekend. Her blog is Small Bits of Life, and her blog name is 30Something, and she can write some porn, let me tell you! I have to get Mimi and 30something together, whew!

And for all of you, Vocabulum is having a hard time with my wife’s nudity (nasty comments made about a HNT pic Mimi posted last week), and so in honor of Vocabulum, I thought I might post a new pic of my lovely Mimi. I hope you all enjoy cause its All Nekkid Friday!

A Short Post...

2005-08-04T08:32:00.000-04:00

So if you read my blog you probably noticed I did not make an entry last night… Let me just tell you… I did not blog because I was dealing with BULLSHIT… something screwed up which required lots of attention and in the mean time whilst dealing with that bullshit, I had to baby-sit a bunch of Europeans.

Now do not get me wrong… most folks over the pond are great (well unless you are French and I am quite selective about you being great if you are French), I mean those UK and Dutch, and even the French women have the sexiest (unfortunately Southern women have the absolute sexiest accents… I mean Georgia and Tennessee girls… holy shit…) voices… but that withstanding that... The European work ethic is so different than ours in the US, I tend to get quite aggravated such as I am now.

I am so fucking tired, and still have I think three more days of this shit (at least for this week). The good news is that Mimi told me she has a good feeling about the next few weeks and my job situation. Now I have been looking for a new job in a pretty serious fashion for the past eight months. I have gotten pretty far in a number of interviews processes, but not once has my Mimi had a good feeling about any of them. So I am clinging to this as a good sign.

I think if her intuition is right, soon I will be taking my wife out for a proper night on the town. We have been out, but not really with the ability to spend money and not feel guilty. Now granted we went out for Valentines day in April where a blow job was performed in a Post Office station, and other even more interesting things occurred, but we have not really gone out and enjoyed ourselves without “going out remorse.” So I think f something does happen that is spectacular in the next few weeks, we will be able to fill everyone in on an interesting night.

The Choking Game

2005-08-02T04:31:00.000-04:00

2nd Post

NOTE: Reading the other post first will score you with an almost nekkid pic of Mimi in hot blue dress…

OK… This is my second post… I am sort of catching up from Friday and taking advantage of my time to post while I have it. I have six long nights of this shit and will probably hate every minute of it.

My days now consist of the following… I Get home, eat something, say hello to my little girl, and to Mimi. I give each a kiss, see my puppy, go up and say hello to my son (although today we will be having a short discussion about his motivation and football), I will then go take some meds, go to sleep, wake around 6 PM or so, eat some dinner, take my son to football, come home take a shower, and go to work till I come home the next morning.

But my fucked up schedule is not what I am writing about, nor is my fucked up professional life or any of that shit. I am writing about something I have recently heard about.

So one of my best buddies and I were talking last week, and he says, “hey Jay, did you hear about this new thing, these kids are doing.. They are strangling each other till they pass out and doing this for fun…”

OK, first, as soon as he mentioned “passing out” I know what the score was, and it is fucking idiotic what these kids are doing… Cause you know what? I did it in middle school (don’t worry I will tell all), but we did it another way. This is just bullshit. And apparently there are several kids locally who have died from this strangulation high technique.

The worse part, not like there is anything good about this, is these kids are actually doing something similar to what Michael Hutchence (for those unfamiliar, the lead singer of INXS) when he died, except there is no alleged masturbation going on while they strangle themselves.

SO I heard this from my buddy, and though, “Oh… how fucked up is this?” well, I did not think anything more of it till last Friday night when a 20/20 was airing commercials for this “thing” that the kids were doing and do you know what theya re doing as a game. Immediately I am thinking, they are going to talk about the game “Snap” which was my topic of interest last Thursday night… Go see my post and come right back…

Waiting… Waiting… Waiting… Waiting…

OK… Great you are back…

So you know about the game “Snap” now… So this is what I thought 20/20 was going to air… So Mimi and I started watching it and they began describing the disturbing trend and “GAME” that was happening as early as middle school and the lead part of the story started discussing the asphyxiation of this 13 or 14 year old girl. Now twice in two weeks I have heard of this asphyxiation thing.

So for you folks who have no fucking clue what I am talking about here is the deal…

What the kids are doing now…

You take a length of rope, a dog leash or anything that has some length and can be tied around one’s neck… The tie it to the closet rack, a door or anywhere they can, then around their neck, lean forward and cut off the blood and air to the brain till just before they black out, then they let off the pressure and breathe… This gives a huge rush because basically what they have done is stopped the air and blood circulating towards the brain, and when the pressure is released and air is brought back into the body they experience a blinding rush.

They have also taken to chocking one another to achieve the same thing but in more of a game type atmosphere.

They way WE (meaning the kid I knew… ok and I did this)

It is actually a much tamer and maybe not as effective thing, but this was more of a trick to fuck with someone or to screw around than any type of game or way to get “high.” So basically one would take deep breaths and each time the breathed out, they would expel as much oxygen as they could, and the general number was do this about 10 times, then on the last time of exhaling, hold your breath… Now you wrapped your hands across your chest and squeezed as tightly as you could bending over at the waist holding your breath as long as you could. When you could no longer hold your breath, you exhaled and you would get a rush.

This has about the same effect as what the kids now are doing, but potentially not as intense a rush.

Either way this is a stupid thing to do. If you have ever had a coughing fit to the point of where you feel light headed and feel tingly all over and you see black for a moment, you have felt the same basic rush as these children are seeking and are getting, yet they are strangling themselves.

So yet another disturbing trend I have heard bout that kids my son’s age are starting to get into…

From CNN

From CBS News

Google Search

My Lady With A Blue Dress On....

2005-08-02T03:47:00.000-04:00

I am trying to decide what to do this morning as I write. I have about three directions to go. I want to tell you all about another interesting thing I have heard about middle school children and their antics (this my friends, I heard about twice in as many weeks and it is a disturbing thing), the next thing would be to go down the path of my sheer fall to abysmal depression when it comes to my job (I know I have been doing this for quite some time, actually one of the purposes of my blog), or the third path is trying to put into words an issue I am having with my son.

But I have yet another issue

Let’s start this off with my anniversary, which took place over the weekend. You see, I have been married to my wife for five years now, and have known her for over seven years. She has known my son and lived with my son more than twice the amount his biological mother lived with him and that is a loose term since her job and time volunteered out to do extra work, kept her gone a majority of those years.

Mimi is a wonderful woman but a woman she is, and she does not understand men, where likewise we men still do not have a firm grasp of women. So we had a nice romantic evening Saturday night and unfortunately I upset my lovely bride by reacting in the incorrect manner regarding her state of dress (which was on some levels full, but on other levels, barely dressed). You see my wife has this really awesome dress; it is a spaghetti strapped little tiny sun dress, made of very thin material. As Mimi has alluded, it has been the center of some heated, although short lived, battles.

I have a tendency to tell my wife what I would like to see her wearing when we go out from time to time. And I make no bones about it, I generally ask her to dress in some rather provocative things. But this dress is not all that provocative and I do enjoy seeing her wear it as it is very short thus easy physically and visually access to her lower body and being of flexible thin material held up by two thin and flexible straps, her upper body is also quite accessible. Thus, it is a dress which allows quite spontaneous fun and many flashing opportunities.

So let me set the stage for you… I am wearing some ratty baggy jean shorts and a polo shirt. I have been in the kitchen cooking steaks on our indoor grill (thank you mother nature), baking some potatoes, making some salad, cutting and buttering bread. I figured I would put dinner on the table, and we would eat by candle light enjoying our conversation. Mimi had been wearing some shorts and a green top, and was looking like a nice mother ought to.

So, just as I begin wondering about my dear wife and whether she had been sucked into a black hole between putting our little one down and coming down to enjoy some nice steak, I turn around and to my surprise… Mimi is in this dress.

So just to remind you all, I was in some ratty baggy jean shorts and a polo, she, in this dress, freshly manicured toes and finger nails and little else besides her glossy red lips. I take a step back and out of my mouth comes…”Why are you wearing that?” Now in my mind I am thinking she looks really hot, and I am sweaty and have been cooking. I am thinking we aren’t going anywhere and most likely we will be getting in the hot tub… so why is she wearing that? Most times I ask her to wear it, a close combat firefight erupts. Usually with me telling her to wear whatever she wants. However on this occasion, she caught me off guard and in a situation I was not readily equipped for since I had no expectations of anything.

So I tell her, as I said before, “Why are you wearing that?” and she gets this look on her face like, “I cannot believe you just said that to me, WTF?” and so I try to explain in a very inept way that I liked what she had on, and she looked really nice and quite hot, but I just did not expect her to be wearing that as only in the past half hour she was wearing something completely different and the fact I was wearing what I was wearing.

Folks, I unintentionally hurt my wife’s feelings just as we were celebrating our fifth anniversary.

So to you Mimi, I am sorry, as I thought I had recovered from the initial shock of my question but based on your blog entry tonight I am apologizing again.

I am truly sorry for saying exactly the wrong thing when you wanted me to say, “Wow, you look Hot…” which is exactly what I was thinking. I just was also thinking the other…

Now here is the dress in question…

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

2005-07-29T05:23:00.000-04:00

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..."

2005-07-28T03:31:00.000-04:00

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."

2005-07-27T06:32:00.000-04:00

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...

2005-07-24T12:41:00.000-04:00

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

2005-07-23T09:27:00.000-04:00

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!

2005-07-22T06:25:00.000-04:00

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

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

2005-07-22T06:22:00.000-04:00

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....

2005-07-21T05:57:00.000-04:00

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"

2005-07-20T07:49:00.000-04:00

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

2005-07-18T14:52:00.000-04:00

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...

2005-07-16T13:41:00.000-04:00

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...

2005-07-16T13:20:00.000-04:00

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...

2005-07-15T06:01:00.000-04:00

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...

2005-07-14T06:35:00.000-04:00

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

2005-07-14T06:29:00.000-04:00

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?

2005-07-14T05:03:00.000-04:00

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?

2005-07-12T11:43:00.000-04:00

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...

2005-07-08T08:33:00.000-04:00

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.

Some Relationships Are Just Fucking Nuts...

2005-07-07T09:19:00.000-04:00

It has been several days since I lasted posted, primarily because I took a day off of work. Now normally this would mean a whole day of pay gone, but as fortune would have it, my contracting company now pays me for holidays. Also, as fortune may have it, I made a few healthy dollars from one of my private clients for some work he needed done. So all in all as it turns out, the best sense I can make of this is, I received double pay for being off on the 4th and I got a paid day of vacation, plus a few extra dollars over that. But now it is back to the grind stone, and I am sitting in the hot seat with flames licking my feet as I wait for the next big issue to hit and I have to start dodging the bullets and endure the pitch forking demons who gather around me in bloodlust waiting for me to fuck up (funny I should write that because there was a fuck up last night – this being written just before I post it, over eight hours since I began). Fortunately for me, my most upper management is on vacation with one being in Alaska and completely unreachable. He needs to stay there for another couple of weeks while I get my house in order for my great move which I believe is impending.

With everything being equal and should those gods with a sick sense of humor not fuck with me, I plan to be out of this hell hole within the next four weeks. But as it were the gods still fuck with me, even if they don’t screw around with my impending job situation, they have now found it amusing to go fuck with my car yet again. If you recall several weeks ago, Fate decided to start fucking with me after I scored a week of day work. My AC blew causing my engine to overheat and luckily I was able to keep her cooled with water and such just enough so my engine block didn’t crack. I was able to get home and fill her up. No problems until last week. I was driving along, minding my own business, and my radiator light comes on but my engine is still in the “normal” range. But just to make sure, I stop off at a filling station and get some water (didn’t get the coolant since I have a car that requires some special coolant, well not special, just coolant your run of the mill quick stop doesn’t have). Before getting the water, I looked under the hood and saw I was pretty low on coolant. I got some water, filled the reservoir a bit, go home, fill her all the way up with coolant and water and wallah! We are back in business. Now I recall all my problems a few weeks ago and I am worried. I really cannot afford some more car repairs… So I went back to work that night and all is hunky dory, no problems. Then Friday morning I drive home and had to drop something at one of my client’s businesses and being a little late I decided to grab some breakfast from McDonalds. I normally stop and go in, but I was listening to one of my favorite morning shows (The Regular Guys on 96 Rock) and decided to hang out and relax in the drive through (aka Drive Through and Sleep for 45 minutes to get your food that should only take 30 seconds to get) and listen to the Regular Guys. No sooner had I made my order and started waiting than I happen to look up and my fucking temp gauge begins to shoot up like TMI going critical. I think to my self, FUCK, and pull out of line, and I go in and get my food, cause you know I was fucking hungry damnit. So I get home safely because I live just down the road, but now my car sits. What the fuck is that all about, I hate this shit, if it is not one thing it is another, you know!

Ok, so enough about my bitching, I had planned on expressing my thoughts on something else, ok… maybe not express, but rather rant. Fortunately for you, I read something tonight that I will segue into now which is interesting in regards to the dating scene from a single dad perspective, but definitely humorous.

So I am not sure if any of you have gone through my blog and picked up on it, but then again I may not have even alluded to the issue, I really am not sure. I think my wife Mimi alluded to the issue several times, but basically, I was married once prior to Mimi (an unholy bondage that fortunately spawned a child who I think is a miracle on many levels, my son). So after I kicked my wife out the door (yeah I know pretty rough, but fucking the company commander is pretty fucked up in and of itself), I became a single guy again. I had been celibate for the most part of a long time (I am not being exact but the time span had both the word YEAR and the letter S in it) and believe me, it was not by choice. So I was ready to fuck, I mean I wanted to meet women and party and fuck (I know, what about sensitivity to Mimi? Mimi has heard the story, so she won’t get bent about this).

At the time I was living in a much smaller city and luckily got a job in the city where I live now. I moved here, got a bachelor pad, and started working. As some of my readers know who are single dads it is difficult to meet women while having working, and taking care of a young child who must have constant supervision (I also realize being a single Mom has the same challenges, but give me a break on this, I am writing from a guys point of view… thanks ahead of time ladies). My issue was that I was a single dad with an ex who moved up way, way north of me, like many states away. There was no time without my son for visitation so literally my son and I were with each other most all the time unless I could afford springing for a sitter. So I was one of the early pioneers of using AOL to hook up with chicks (at least it seemed so). Now I am not going to go into a lot of shit about who, what, where, when, and how… mainly I was meeting some women. I found a bunch of crazy chicks on AOL. I mean fucking nuts. You would not believe the women I hooked up with. Now on a side note, Mimi and I must have been destined for one another, I mean the fucking stars aligned for us and the gods were looking down upon us. We met online and she has been the best thing that has ever happened to me. I just had to get through all the nuts before getting to Mimi.

So this one night, I hooked up with this woman who I call, even today, Psycho Chick (PC). PC seemed pretty cool, we had similar likes and dislikes in general. She was pretty freaky in the sex department based on our conversations. My only issue with her at the time was her age being a few years older than me. I didn’t quite like that to begin with, but I blew it off. We started dating. I think we dated for about four months, and we did some pretty insane things and had some good times. So you are thinking maybe, what the fuck was wrong with her… Well, when we first started dating, I made it very clear that I was just fresh from a divorce and I was looking to date (sounding familiar anyone?) and I was not promising anything, but more than anything I know I was not ready to get married. My primary goal in life at the moment was to meet women and have some fun. In guy speak, I wanted to have lots of freaky sex with women.

Well, as I said before we dated for a few months, and had a great time. We went to some BBQ’s, movies, to some amusement parks, stayed in and had fun, did some freaky shit from time to time and basically had a good time. Now this whole time, I had never intended a deep meaningful relationship. In fact, I still looked around for other women while dating her. I didn’t think much or anything of it. Things were cool, we would meet for lunch a couple of times a week, and she would wear things to let me exploit my voyeur/exhibitionist games with her, but it was a casual relationship… so I thought. Now during this time of dating, she met my son, and toward the end of our dating some things came out which made me feel like she would not be a great mom (not that I had those intention, but I would have liked to find someone who was good with kids, and min in general), which was a definite no-go in my book. Now there was nothing too terribly harsh that occurred but just some things that made me think upon our general relationship. So as things moved forward, I found and discovered things about this woman which by themselves were not a big deal, but as they all added up, I realized I just was not interested in her anymore.

Once again, bear in mind, I had this entire time told her I was not promising her anything nor was I planning on any long term future thing with her or anyone else at the time. Then one evening we went out to dinner where we began discussing things. Now one thing I have always done when dating, if I was planning on dating someone for a long time, planning an activity or trip six months down the line was no big deal. However in the state of mind I was in at the time, a month down the line was too much of a future. So she wanted to plan to go to a concert the following month. I told her we should wait till it got closer. Then we got into a relationship discussion… I swear to God, I thought I got it across to her, but I did not. No sooner had I reiterated my position in the relationship, than she was trying to talk me into planning something else.

A couple of days later, we met for lunch and we broke up, I told that we shouldn’t see each other any more, because I thought I was just not ready for a relationship. She was not happy, but she understood. So a call at work a few days later, she asked me if I could meet her for lunch again, because she was sad, and just wanted to talk. She realized where I was and that she was crowding me, blah, blah, blah… So I met her again. She was wearing the shortest skirt, and the tightest white blouse with a bra that was obviously mesh and white cause you could still see her tits, and when she sat down, her skirt hiked up her thigh and ass. No hiding her pussy from anyone when she did anything in that skirt. She was playing me, and I knew it, but my little buddy did not care. So using all my will power we talked and ended things on an up note. Now look, I really tried to make it clear during lunch that it was over, we could be friends and the such, but when we got back to her car and up came the skirt in the parking lot with many people watching, and kissed me, I see today I totally failed in what I was trying to do. I told her we had to be friends, and that was it.

So I got home that evening and she sends me an email with some very graphic details of an afternoon she had enjoyed on her patio naked. I immediately realize I have to put a stop to all of this. I had told her that we had to stop, and she tricked me with sex (not really sex but by her advances and near nakedness). I decided to write her an email, I mean what else could I do. So I write this long involved email, laying out the argument and finally un-categorically breaking it off, not even the friends bit. I sent it at almost 1030 at night… Beware of a woman scorned, she will call you and drive to your house (20 mins away) in the middle of the night regardless if your child is asleep, and cause a ruckus (yeah a southern term) and bang on your door, then come over the patio railing regardless of what she is wearing and bang on your doors, regardless of threats of police until you let her in and accept that you must talk to her because no one is fucking going to break up with her in an email. Now it doesn’t matter that you have already tried to break up with her three times previously, and it doesn’t matter you have a 4 year old at home sleeping. It will not wait. So I wake up, grab a beer, light a cigarette (was smoking back in the day) and listened to her. When she was done she said we could be friends and then she left and I went to bed.

Ok so it took three or four more dates, and finally a psychotic episode of “I MIGHT be pregnant” and one last date to shed her from my life. On the last date I got really angry, not angry like when she was bullshitting me about pregnancy, but angry to the point of she broke down crying about how I didn’t love her after getting really drunk and coming back to my place. I offered her my bed, and I would sleep on the couch, but since I did not love her she would drive home. I was pissed when she refused my assistance and insisted she drive home. I was so mad I turned her off, forgot about her and never saw her again. I was not even sure if she made it home. At least not till six months later. I was going to my parent’s house and I get a call while wrapping presents. I answered the call vaguely recognizing the number, but not really knowing why. The woman on the other side asks who she is speaking with, I tell he she should know since she called me, and I wanted to know who she was and why she was calling. Then she says, hey I know who you are, this is PC (well, using her real name and not Psycho Chick) and I say hello, we trade pleasantries, and she tells me about her totally fucked up life since I last saw her. I finish the conversation, go see my parent and tell my sister about the call and the past history. My sister looks at me and says… “Jay, you are the biggest idiot, that was a booty call…” Well if that was a booty call I missed, then luck was on my side and my dick stayed just where it needed to be!

The upshot to all of this is, I was in a precarious position and I knew I was on the hunt for someone special. Eventually I met and married her. So if you are being pressured and it is a fucked up relationship, but you like the sex… then get your mind off the sex and get out of the relationship. You can get sex almost anywhere, but your sanity can only be obtained from within. So if you are on the prowl for the perfect mate, do not get sidetracked, you will know what is right when it happens, I know from experience!

WTF Is Up With all These Lists?

2005-07-02T08:33:00.000-04:00

Mimi and I were talking today about the lists she made. I like #100 on her list of things we can’t afford but want, that one rocks, but if you want to know what #100 is, you will have to check it out. So she suggested I make a list, and I flat out told her no. I really do not like lists. I hate muddling through them and dealing with lists in general. Now some specific lists are cool, like Mimi’s lists. You see, Mimi interests me, she’s my wife and when she does a list of “100 Things About Me,” well I want to see what she puts down. I for example did not know that she wrote this dickweed and told him not to call anymore referencing a time he called her and suggested they get “dinner” together. What a pair of brass ones this guy had calling my house and propositioning my wife. But I digress... If you make a list of “100 Places I Fucked Other Than In My Bed” I would probably check it out regardless of who wrote it. I might get some ideas for my own enjoyment. But if you do a list of “My 100 Favorite Songs/Tunes” I would probably skip by it because I know what I like and although I might glance at it to see if our musical interests are remotely in common, I would be more interested in finding the list of “100 Places I Fucked Other Than In My Bed” than sticking around checking out songs.

Now outside of the tedium of lists in general, I do not like lists because, well, in all honesty, they are a pain in the ass. Lists are made to be changed. For example, I have a list of shit I have to do on a daily basis. To follow that list means that I have to do something which is most probably mundane and generally boring, and I have to check the list off to complete it. And the only enjoyment in checking off the list is that it means you are that much closer from being done with your boring mundane day or you are closer to being able to do what you want to do, rather than what other’s want you to do. Now I admit, there are those lists that I make of things to do, but those are generally imposed things that must be done like:

Mow the Lawn
Change Light Bulbs (This is fucking hilarious, I am literally the WORST light bulb changer in the world, ask Mimi!)
Clean (insert whatever here)
Make Dinner
Post naked pics of Mimi

So you get the deal… Well that is a list I maintain mentally when there is shit to do around the house. I try not to make these lists long and the only really enjoyable part is posting pics of Mimi which I have not gotten around to in weeks and months! So lists are a pain in the ass. The other thing about lists are the ones you have to change, like the “My Top10 Hotties.” Well as cool as that list could be, the list fucking changes. I mean seriously, if you made this list in 1982 you might have Bo Derek on the list. Today, she is hot but not a top 10, as there is Elisha Cuthbert now. You might have had Susanna Hoffs back in 1986 but have you seen her today? She is definitely not a top 10 hottie anymore, she can still sing, but definitely not top 10 material, unlike say Laura Harris, she is fucking smoking! And then there is always Naomi Watts, another smoking chick… But unfortunately, when I am 50 they will no longer be hotties, they will get replaced with the future Dakota Fanning’s (not being creepy here, but she is just the cutest little girl, reminds me of my little girl!) of the universe. The upshot… These hottie lists or favorite songs or favorite TV Shows all require work because they fucking change. Man I am way too fucking lazy for that shit. I like things simple. My hottie list consists of only Mimi, that way I cannot ever get in trouble for lusting over some other hottie and it never changes!

Now to be just as hypocritical as Jimmy Swaggart in a brothel I do think I might present you with some lines from movies I think that are funny. But I refuse to characterize this as a list. There will be no numbers, you will hopefully laugh your ass off or at least snicker or chuckle reading these lines. If you don’t then I apologize ahead of time. My sense of humor is a bit dark to say the least, I mean not many people find it funny when a guy gets his head blown off cause they hit a bump in the road even though there was no mutherfucking bump in the road, and the gun just went off… you know what I mean? That is some sick shit when one thinks that is funny, but I do, and I know Mimi does. So there are at least two of us in the world who have some seriously fucked up humor.

Some Funny Lines…

Vincent: I-I gotta stab her three times? Lance: No, you don't gotta fucking stab her three times! You gotta stab her once, but it's gotta be hard enough to break through her breastplate into her heart, and then once you do that, you press down on the plunger. Vincent: What happens after that? Lance: I'm kinda curious about that myself.
_

Chili Palmer: Whew, this movie business is tough. I might just have to go back to loan-sharking for a while to get some vacation.
_

[Trapper has just opened a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer] Hawkeye Pierce: I see you are a beer drinker, sir. Would you care for a martini? Trapper John: A martini? Yeah, I'd love a martini. Hawkeye Pierce: [to Ho-Jon] Ho-Jon, get the gentleman a martini. [to Trapper] Hawkeye Pierce: I'm sure you will find them satisfactory. They're quite dry. [sips from his glass] Trapper John: Don't you guys use olives? Duke Forrest: Olives? Where in the hell do you think we are, man? Hawkeye Pierce: We have had to make certain concessions for the war; we ARE three miles from the front line. Trapper John: Yeah but without olives, [reaches into coat pocket and pulls out a jar of cocktail olives - drops one into his glass] Trapper John: a martini just doesn't quite make it. [Hawkeye and Duke stare dumbfounded at the olive]
_

Gun Salesman: We call this piece the Fecalator. One look at it and the target shits him or herself. Try it on. Loki: Well, it's a lot more compact than the flaming sword, but it's not nearly as impressive. Just doesn't have that Wrath-of-the-Almighty edge to it. I mean, come on, how am I supposed to strike fear into the hearts of the wicked with this thing? Look at this... Bartleby: Well, then, you know, don't use a gun. Just lay the place to waste, like. Loki: Easy for you to say. You get off light in razing. You got to stand there and read at Sodom and Gomorrah, I had to do all the work. Bartleby: What work did you do? You lit a few fires. Loki: I rained down sulphur, man, there's a subtle difference. Bartleby: Oh, yeah, I'm sure. Loki: Hey, you know, fuck you, man. Any moron with a pack of matches can set a fire. Raining down sulphur is like an endurance trial man. Mass genocide is the most exhausting activity one can engage in, next to soccer.
_

Randal Graves: Oh what, what's with you, man? You haven't said anything for like twenty minutes. What the hell's you're problem? Dante Hicks: This life. Randal Graves: This life? Dante Hicks: Why do I have this life? Randal Graves: Have some chips, you'll feel better. Dante Hicks: I'm stuck in this pit, working for less than a slave wages. Working on my day off, the goddamn steel shutters are closed, I deal with every backward ass fuck on the planet. I smell like shoe polish. My ex-girlfriend is catatonic after fucking a dead guy. And my present girlfriend has sucked 36 dicks. Randal Graves: 37
_

Happy Gilmore: You little son of a bitch ball! Why you don't you just go home? That's your HOME! Are you too good for your home? ANSWER ME! SUCK MY WHITE ASS BALL!
_

[Discussing Vanessa's new senior citizen boyfriend] Vanessa: He has a five year plan. Sonny: What is it? "Don't die"?
_

Ok, so like I said, this is not a list but a few funny scenes from some of my favorite comedies. This is only a sampling of my favorites because I have so many, and there is no ranking, I just pulled these lines as I thought of the movies and the scenes.

So my hopes here are that at the very least you had a chuckle. I purposely did not tell you the movie because you should know which movies they are already (that is rather presumptuous of me and the fact I did not give you the titles already makes me an elitist pretentious movie snob) and if you do not, then you will have something to research and maybe some funny movies to watch. More than likely, if you are reading this blog, you will know the movies and already have the capacity for my brand of humor so there will be no researching for you! I also hope this will give you a break from all my ranting because in fact, I had nothing to rant about last night. I could have come up with a few things, but I wanted to go down the track of humor, especially since Mimi was quite generous last evening before I came into work and I was able to help live out, in part, her blog entry from earlier in the day.

She did end up with cum on her faces and chin and chest…. Gotta love a woman who likes that!

*Self Pleasure for the Voyeur

2005-07-01T03:57:00.000-04:00

You know what I ought to be doing right now? I ought to be working for my employer. But I am not, I am typing a blog entry. I also should be doing work for a private client of mine, but I am not. I have a fucking horrible headache, and as it seems that somewhere during the day I must have inserted sandpaper behind my eyelids, the act of blinking, which if you are wondering happens approximately 11,500 times a day (fucking Google just rocks doesn’t it, I mean if you wanted to know how many times a gnat takes a shit, Google could get you the info), is truly an excruciating involuntary activity. My darling sweet baby daughter and her little friend felt it necessary to howl like banshees all day long. I would be asleep and from the deep catacombs of my sleep I would get violently jerked into the realm of the wakeful because of the wailing and gnashing of the two babies. God, if fucking Motormouth had to come over, I would go crazy from sleep depravation and Mimi would just go insane in general.

So here we are, I am supposed to be doing some graphics work for this one client and cannot bring myself to do it. I cannot get my mind off of something that I read. Now, I have contemplated the level and type of content I publish. I honestly watch some of what I write because before Mimi, there were other women and experiences. I try to shy away from any reference to them out of sensitivity of my wife. I think if she had given blow jobs to 36 different guys and considered me only the second guys she had sex with, I might get annoyed about finding out about the 36 different guys, as well as the fact that she did not consider those blowjob sex (obscure movie reference, can you guess?). Mimi didn’t do that, I truly was the second guy she had been with, but on some levels she wishes she had other experiences, I am glad I got her just the way she was when we met. With that stated, I am going to make a brief reference someone out of my past and something she did (this caveat is longer and more in-depth than the reference itself).

So my wife, Jules and ESSFingers, have a three-way thing going right now with some lists. They (the lists) are actually quite interesting and humorous, although I definitely have to ask Mimi to tone down this Matthew McConaughey stuff, cause as we all know, he is a smelly bongo playing pothead. Not that there is anything wrong with smoking out, but the smelly gay part (for my indemnity, this is just what I heard, not stating it is actually so, but the rumors about smelly Brad seemed to be true as well) should be a turn off for her, because he looks gay (that is a general observation not an allegation – geez what I have to do when it comes to those slander suits, whew). So at any rate I stumbled onto ESSFingers and she had a bit of a hot post.

Now I have to tell you, the post itself was not graphic in nature, but summarized a full weekend of masturbation. Well that made me think of this other girl I once knew who told me about a time she did the same thing. She masturbated close to 60 times over a weekend. Now honestly, I know I could not do that 60 times in a weekend, but I suppose with sheer boredom, lots of lube, porn, phone sex and other bits of stimulation; I guess a woman could climax 60 in a weekend.

This conjures up a vision of a woman, mostly or completely naked all weekend, lying about doing various things, such as reading watching porn, talking on the phone having normal conversation or phone sex, while in the shower or bath, in the hot tub, lounging on the patio, hanging about in the living room, den, in front of the windows and in bed masturbating to her heart’s content (also answering the door for take out pretty much naked too – I know I am pretty depraved, sorry baby).

I want to see Mimi do this, and more than that, I want to tape her doing so. I have taped her numerous times, and one day I will commit the tape to a DVD, but until then I will keep taping. But I want to be my wife’s voyeur and watch her as she masturbates in all these different places and I want to know how many times she can cum over a weekend, just masturbating. I want to watch her with her toys, without them, on the phone in the tub, etc… Yes, this is something I have always wanted to do. I am not sure how to make this happen, being as we have children, but I want to do it sometime.

This conjures up something else, ESSFingers mentioned something about masturbating while she was speaking to a friend of hers, making me think of something Mimi and I have done several times. She has several friends who like to talk. These women can talk and talk and talk and seems to be able to continue without taking a breath. One can only reply when they do find a moment to catch their breath. Now it has happened only on several occasions, but while talking to one of these friends, I recall she was wearing a nightie of some sort, and she kept on talking, and I wanted to go to bed and have sex. So I got impatient, and as Mimi was lying down talking with her knees cocked, I made myself at home between her legs (I love going down on my Mimi, she tastes so good) and started licking and fingering her. At some point she took the nightie off and we started having sex. I recall how her pussy clenched my cock and she just kept listening to her friend sometimes responding with a “yeah”, or “uh huh” as I moved in and out of her. She was in such agony making these faces, trying not to moan (Mimi is a serious screamer which is very stimulating) into the phone as we fucked. Her friend of course was completely oblivious, and on one occasion, when Mimi climaxed, she had to put her hand over her mouth dropping the phone next to her. After she had cum, she picked the phone up and let me finish. Shortly thereafter, her friend had to go. When Mimi and her friend had finished, we stared laughing about the whole episode, her friend being completely oblivious to Mimi’s orgasm and sexual encounter.

Now I am going to ask a question of my female readership…

Have you ever masturbated though out an entire day or weekend, and climaxed a number of times? If so please tell us about it (where, under what circumstances, etc…), I am always up for some real people porn, plus I am a voyeur (as if none of us are, right?).
Have you ever had sex while speaking to someone on the phone unbeknownst to that person with whom you were speaking?

And finally; I have said over and over again, that I wanted to post some pics of Mimi… well I am going to make a point of it this weekend. I have several goals this weekend, posting pics and getting a new dishwasher. Yes I have procured a new dishwasher for a greatly discounted price… $0.00. That’s right… a charitable contribution from a family member has been made, so I will be fetching the machine at least, if not installing it this weekend. So wish me luck, I have never installed a dishwasher. It will be an adventure to say the least.

So ladies, please answer my questions, the depraved pervert in me wants to know, as well as the rest of the at least four readers I have now.

The Gods Are Laughing

2005-06-30T09:12:00.000-04:00

Life is a tricky thing. You never know what will happen next. Women are much like life too, but I will get back to that in a bit. So I have glimpsed a ray of light. In front of me stands this great 100 foot high iron gate. It is studded with huge bolts and for the past year has kept me enclosed in the hell I currently reside. I see the walls looming high above, circling me from the gate to a distant place beyond which I can see. The sky is perpetually grey and the whole place is smothering and oppressive. I hate this place with a passion, I loathe to come here, and I have apathy for the entire organization. I do only what it takes to keep from being let go. I do find from time to time, that passion I used to have stirring, but quickly it fizzles. I am just too tired to maintain my zeal. I just don’t really care.

Today though, something great happened. Something grand, but I am cautious mind you. The huge bolts of that gate moved, and pulled back. I could hear the groan of the iron against iron as the bolt slid back, and fall out of lock. Then ever so slowly, the gates began to move, they cracked and opened then ceased moving, and there they sit. But I was able to see something grand and wonderful; a ray of blinding yellow light pouring through the opening of the gate and it shined upon me turning all that it shown upon new with bright colors. In the grayness, I saw a streak of deep blue in the sky, in the distance a streak of bright green grassiness, and where I stand; the pavement leading up to these gates went from a dull off-white to a blazing bright white. But it was only a streak of color, a ray of light… In my haze, I cannot be sure if what I am seeing is real or simply a cruel joke, a trick played by the gods, something that may just turn around to bite me like a rabid dog in late August.

To clear a room, you ideally want a team of three to four people. You want to use the high-low technique and you want to get in the room quickly to ensure you have no surprises. The first thing you do is station a person on each side of the door, one crouching and one standing, Behind the guy crouching you have your third guy standing in wait with a grenade, and your fourth guy kicks the door down. The door gets kicked in and the kicker falls or moves to the side, the grenade is cooked off and tossed in the room,. After the grenade goes off, the guy crouching turns into the room and opens fire while at the same time, the guy standing does the same but firing in the opposite direction. As each fires, they spray the room in fanning fire and then the other two members of the team enter the room and take up the far corners with the other two guys reloading their weapons and taking the inner corners and all examine the room to declare it clear.

Now why on earth do you want to know this? You probably don’t except for the fact, this method of clearing a room is used because you never know what is behind the next wall and when fighting an enemy, you have to always ensure you are covered. And no matter what you do to clear a room, you always have to be wary, because something that looks one way (such as being safe and empty), does not mean it is really that way.

So I sit here this morning, I want so badly to go into my manager’s office and have a discussion with him. But I feel like I am on the verge of something pretty great, but regardless of what I have been told or suspect at this point, I am still unsure of the situation. Now you wonder; what is this prattle he goes on about, what is this bullshit and this diatribe he is speaking. Well, it seems as if I might have a job offer. And it is possible I could have yet another offer, and it is definite that I have another major interview lined up. But… the gods frighten me. They have tricked me once over the weekend; they have fooled me many times since this odyssey began well over a year ago. They are my bane and I do not feign boldness with the trickery, I abhor it and cower before their trickery.

I have mentioned the show Dead Like Me (DLM), well there are these things called gravelings that make stupid fucked up shit happen, thus causing people to die. The gravelings make accidents. They are the ultimate conniving evil jokester. I believe they have a hierarchy and there are those who do not kill, but have a cruel insidious sense of humor and like fucking with us humans. But I agree with George, “… If your are hiding, your fears will come out looking for you…” So I say fuck them, and when I get out of here today, I have some calls to make, and by chance if they really are not fucking with me, those gates will swing open… but I will not go any further than that at the moment. I am walking in a mine field and need to be careful.
I wake up this afternoon, and am in a bit of a haze, Mimi is standing at the side of the bed with the phone in her hand and begins to tell me I need to call this guy back. She thinks I just got a job. She cannot recall which job it is, but knew there was this I ask her if it was Darren, she says yes, and I tell her, great. So Mimi proceeds to ask me if this is a direct hire or contract job. I tell her again, with a bit of exasperation (I have told her several times about this job, but seriously she always forgets about it, almost as if she is unconsciously blocking it) I tell her it is a contract position. She looks at me and huffs out of the room. I yell to her and tell her it is $XX thousand more per year… the door closes quickly, almost, but not quite slamming behind her.

I sit/lay there, still in a haze not understanding what the hell just happened. I mean I am thinking this is almost a 15% raise over what I have right now. I call the guy he tells me what is up (I won’t believe it till I have to go in sign papers and take a piss test), and I go downstairs and tell Mimi, this guy is telling me I have a job, I am hired. Finally she comes around and says, yes, it is a day job and yes it is more than we are making now, so it is an improvement. I also reminded her, this is a contract to hire position as well, should I do well. She apologizes and give me a hug and a kiss.

So the torrid unpredictability of my wife, like life, hit me like a ton of bricks. As quickly as she was wrathful and upset about the aspects of the new position, even with the improvements, she calmed down and was happy about the situation. Like a tornado vapidly eating the plains she started and then all was calm.

Well this short post has taken me all night, and I shall have more to tell tonight. I hope my night this evening is not as busy as this evening. I look forward to revealing all, opening the great gate, and letting the sun shine down upon me.

*First Encounter

2005-06-29T11:33:00.000-04:00

NOTE: This is a second post... It is late for me, and so I have not proofed very well, ok at all.. but enjoy anyway.

Wow, Mimi did this list of 100 things about her. It’s pretty impressive. I actually learned a few things about her I did not already. Like the letter to the guy who called my home asking for my wife and wanted to fuck her after we had only been married a mere few months. It was actually a pretty funny episode as I look back upon it. What a moron this guy was. I swear I would have had to kick his ass if he showed up just want to say “hi” lemme show you “Hi” with a boot up your ass, dick cheese.

What was on her list was our first date which was pretty hot actually. I have mentioned before I that I can picture exactly what she looked like, what she was wearing and how shy she was on our first date, well that is until we got to the bookstore.

So Mimi and I met; she was waiting for me just inside this chain Italian restaurant and both recognized each other immediately. I think I sent her a pic, and she had described herself well, or she told me which dress she was wearing. But there we were and I knew with whom I had a date. She was pretty hot, with a tan, her shoes matched her off-white dress, as did her little panties she wore underneath. I am sure she was wearing a bra, these days I would encourage her not to wear one these days (hahaha).

We went inside, were seated and began our dinner with some wine and the such, dinner and maybe a desert, I honestly cannot recall. I do know that we talked a great deal, and at one point I reached out and took her hands, she was a bit nervous, and began gazing into her eyes. Thankfully I did not make her nervous in a creepy or stalker way, at least I hope I didn’t.

So we had a great dinner and conversation, and the evening was over way too quickly, at least in regards to dinner. So I knew from talking to Mimi she liked bookstores, and off we went to a B&N to look around. Now one thing I forgot to mention, when going into dinner I put my arm around the waist of my future wife and let my hand drop feeling for the line of panties as we went into the restaurant. Subtle as is was, that is where my groping started.

We arrived at the B&N and began to browse. I really cannot recall when or where it began, but as we got to know one another better and hoping I was not creeping her out, I became bolder and bolder with Mimi. The main thing I recall was at one point we stood in front of a bookshelf in an isle, she had a book in hand and my hands went around her one down her panties, one to her breasts, and she was breathing quite heavily. She very wet and my finger slid easily between her lips. I think at one point I brought my finger to my mouth, tasted her and dropped my hand back to her panties and inside her. This did not go on for a particularly long time, but it was pretty hot. I know there was some more petting to be had in the store, but it was getting on in time, and we left shortly thereafter.

We spoke about when we could get together the next time, and drove into the parking lot at the restraint where we met earlier. We began talking about this, that and the other, all the while positioning ourselves for some intense petting. As we got into it, if she had a bra on, I am pretty sure it came off quickly and then her panties and then her dress was raised at least to her waist. In short, had anyone wandered by the car, I am quite sure they would have gotten a nice show. Mimi has always kept a nicely coiffed pussy and she was quite wet during our time in the car.

Unfortunately the time together ended, but I was quite sure that we had hit it off, and I looked forward to our next date, which occurred only several days later. That is another story. But I must highly recommend the bookstore. It is always a place for all kinds of interesting fun. You never know when you might see a nice bare pussy staring at you discreetly while the owner is sitting in a chair at the bookstore turning up the sexual heat for her b/f or husband.

"Hello... I am sorry I cannot answer your question, I may have to do something"

2005-06-29T06:32:00.000-04:00

I have returned from a weekend hiatus… I had intended upon making some additions this weekend to Mimi’s blog as well as my own. However, as my real life seemed to pre-occupy my time, I had little time for recreational PC usage this weekend. My primary goal was to post some of Mimi’s latest naughty pics. It did not happen. I have figured out how I will best make this happen which is a huge step forward since I will not be stuck in front of my screen trying to work through how I might expose my wife. Since I have already worked through the technical aspects, I need to buck up, and build what needs to be built, then do the formatting.

That is the real trick, the formatting, because I hate tedium. I like being artistic, and I like cool finished products and can make decent artistic presentations, I just hate doing the work as it is tedious. An example, I maintain web pages for several people, and I could do more if I wanted and I could maybe even make a living out of doing web pages for people. The problem comes in that I dislike programming/coding, I hate the tedium or making things just right and building pages out is time consuming and is a pain in my ass. That adds up to me being just lazy… when it comes to that shit. It’s not my cup of tea. I do one sites because I benefit through trading services and the others I do as a favor and a bit of self gratification. But the thought of sitting for hours in front of my PC screen doing this work is truly a grating thing. Holy shit I am bitching and complaining again! Damnit, that pisses me off.

Not gonna bitch about personal endeavors. So I had a busy weekend, working with my own clients so I did not really have a lot of family time on my days off. The positive side, is that the money I made over the weekend working will allow me to get a paid vacation day, and take a day off next week netting zero days off and receiving a day of holiday pay. This is good shit, plus I still have some more hours to work and bill to fix the client up. Mimi did not appreciate that I was off and still working but there will be some pay-off next week. But then maybe I should bank all the money and work anyway… I do not know, I must contemplate especially since this will be the last paid holiday I will get till September. Hmmmm, I am pretty sure I am taking the day off!

I have several times mentioned my disdain for Corporate America. I am a conservative, and I am a Republican, but that does not mean I am “for big business.” I am for business in general. I know the backbone of our economy is made up of small business, and lets face it, if you have a business most folks want to grow that business so they can give it to their kids, or the business grows so quickly or grow so large, the owner cannot handle it, and that company and its products or services get bought out by bigger companies who can better provide that product or service.

As an entrepreneur, I do have problems with the mindset of some businesses, be it large or small, but this problem I have generally occurs exclusively with big business. A general example is that of NASCAR.

I used to love watching NASCAR as a child. Any time a race was on TV on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon I would watch it. We had this black and white TV and a corded oval carpet. I had my Hot Wheels racetrack with the high banks, the charge up cars and all setup around that oval carpet with the carpet being the infield. I would race my cars and watch the guys on TV race. I remember the first time I went to see a race, I got to meet some of the drivers and it was like they were regular people and there was no bravado in accessing them. I recall as little as ten years ago, how if I told someone I was a NASCAR fan, I was a redneck. But I could still go to the track, get some decent seats and even get pit passes fairly easily. Today, the sport is difficult and incredibly expensive to access and next to impossible in gaining access to the drivers; this has even become the norm for Bush series races. So I have disavowed NASCAR. I refuse to watch it. The bottom line reason I have boycotted this sport is because I love the sport but the sport does not love me. They may say they do, but they don’t care about me, know who I am any more, and they only care about money and their sponsors. If you are an old time race fan, I still remember as a child David Pearson, and Richard Petty, Ned Jarret, A.J. Foyt, Buddy Baker and the likes swapping paint, bumping and dodging on the track, folks getting spun out, and holy shit, who ever heard of a caution for debris unless it was a radiator lying in the middle of the track. It is a sterile sport now. It is no longer the racing I grew up with and it was all ruined by the money, commercialism and the “appearance and impression” factor. The guys are clean cut poster boys now, and everything has to be just right! I understand that Larry the Cable Guy said “Git ‘er Dun” instead of Gentlemen Start your Engines. I bet that pissed off Bill France and his gang.

Now it’s not NASCAR that I intend to go on about, that can be debated, and I do understand there is a new breed of driver and fan, and blah, blah, blah. I only have one last argument to make… When you can show me a Japanese bootlegger I might be convinced the roots of NASCAR have not been lost, so until then fuck off Bill France!
So my base example of what I am to embark upon has been set, ultimately, the big company just does not give a fuck about their patrons. It’s all about the money. Companies and organizations can say how much they care about you all the fucking day long, but when it comes down to it the only thing that anyone cares about is the executive who lines his pockets. Now I honestly could give a shit about executives lining their pockets, I mean they built the company or weaseled themselves into a position to make themselves some cash and isn’t that what this country is all about, Capitalism? No I do not begrudge them so very much for wanting to make money, but what I do have an issue with is those executives adopting Marie Antoinette’s attitude, “let them eat cake!” Well now I am fucking pissed. There is one main industry that pisses me off, but very large fortune businesses are guilty as well with the way they pitch their people aside like canon fodder. But mainly I fucking hate the insurance industry.

Over the last few months, but most recently it seems I have had to deal with insurance companies a whole lot more than I want. One nice thing about being directly employed is that when it comes to your health insurance you have a benefits department to deal with all of your bullshit problems. On top of that, if a member of your benefits department calls, the insurance company doesn’t fuck around; the two organizations get together and work things out. If there is a billing problem or a payment issue, there is lots of money already tied up where over time things get worked out and people get paid.

On the contrary, the insurance companies want money from you right now regardless of whether it is truly owed or not, and they will just as quickly cancel your insurance than fuck around with a couple of hundred dollars. Now none of my insurance has gotten cancelled because we intervened to ensure it would or did not. But there has been much time spent on the phone with the company to resolve a stupid fucking issue which if someone had done their job the first time, our time on the phone would have been limited to a single call. But they fucking care… right. The fucking insurance company cares about you and your health and life. Bullshit I say. That bullshit commercial is so full of shit I want to puke every time I hear it and they try to tell me how much they care about me and my family and our life. I pay an ass of money to them each month just so they can come the fuck back to tell me they paid $26 dollars for a $140 visit where I already have paid a co-pay o $40 and there was not a fucking thing wrong with my daughter that could be treated. The tests were negative showing she had a virus of some sorts. She was better several days later, but if the Doc had not performed these tests, then there could have been a mis-diagnosis and now another insurance company would be worried about paying out for a doctors fuck up, driving my costs up at the doctor and my insurance company more than they will already go up since the fucking insurance companies think they are cable companies and can get away with increasing their rates each year because they need more fucking money. I mean its just a few dollars, right… The consumer won’t notice that extra $30 dollars here and $5 there, and $20 over; wait that is another $55 a month… they have us by the short hairs folks! I bet if you add up all the services that increase each year, and compare them against your bullshit 3 – 4% annual increase you may get; my hunch is your raise is outstripped many, many times for the bullshit increases you pay. Just a hunch, you may want to follow up on that.

Ok, so that is not even my bitch today, that just got me started on my real bitch today. So we have determined I have shit for concern when it comes to insurance companies. They are out there to make money. I accept that as a given fact in our society. But they could be like a fucking whore; you pay them and they give something back and act like they care. Oh, but not a fucking way. The insurance companies are like your local dominatrix down the street (we all have a dominatrix down the street, don’t we?), you go and pay them, they tell you what they want and what you will do, they fuck you and you are supposed to like it. And many of the times, they refuse to tell you the “safe word” so you have no idea to get them to give you a break in the fucking, they just keep ramming you and you keep paying. Fucking bitch ass insurance companies. I mean, please… just a reach around while you are fucking me Ole Great Insurance Company… something, anything, not much am I asking for, just act like you care cause I know they do not.

So I get what I think is some good news this weekend. I get some mail for an open enrollment and it appears I am now eligible for some group insurance through the contracting company with whom I work. At first glance I am thinking this is some good shit. So normally when you get paid, you get say $60 or so taken from your check a couple of times a month for insurance, then you know there is also the cash for dental vision, blah, blah, blah. Well, at first glance I am seeing this and the low prices and I am thinking holy shit, I could save as much as $500 a month going to this group plan from a private insurance plan. We have to look at this, no doubt!

Today Mimi and I start looking, and after examining it, the amounts I was looking at were not twice monthly, but every week. And not just every week pre-tax… Oh no, it is post tax. So we went from that nice silicone based lube to the water base lube to some hand lotion (never mind the slight burning sensation). So already I am feeling a slight fucking, but it’s not too terribly bad. We do the math and there is a couple hundred dollars still there in savings by going to this plan. So we look deeper, and then there is a whole fucking page of exclusions. Now I know they cannot really exclude you moving form a group to group policy (I maintain my group policy from my last employer through COBRA, but everyone else on a private policy.) but there are some things you have to do.

Knowing my friendly caring insurance industry, I know I have to call these fuckers and find out what’s up with transferring between group policies. So I call, and get a nice friendly sounding lady and start asking my questions about known conditions and exclusions. And she kept telling me I needed to look at my policy information. I told her I had, but I need to get some specifics, so I can decide if I want to switch. She tells me she cannot help me with that, as switching is a decision I must make. So I tell her that I have this precondition and need to know if the exclusions would apply. She says yes, but only if I switch plan (OK baby, no fucking shit… I understand that if I switch these questions are valid). I ask her to look at my other group policy since they hold that policy as well. She tells me that I am covered there (yeah, no shit, thus will I be covered in the new one, you moron) but I need to read about the exclusions in the new policy. I now repeat that I had, and I KNOW there is a way to transfer between group policies to avoid exclusions. I want you all to know this is a major, super fucking large insurance company I am dealing with. The lady comes out and says, “well, then you could ask for a voucher from your current group holder showing you have current insurance and then there would be no lapse in your conversion.” Then I ask quite specifically, “then, if I get that I can switch to this policy and my pre-existing condition would not be excluded, right?” She tells me, that she cannot help me make that decision, that switching policies is my own choice.

I am sorry folks. If you are customer service and you hear you have someone on the edge, do not tempt him over the edge, please. It is a wholly wrong practice and I swear she did this shit on purpose. Without calling her a moron, I said, “look, I am not asking you to make a choice for me. I know you want to cover your ass, and not get into some legal trouble and blah, blah, blah (this is sort of like the time I called my insurance company when I needed to take my little girl to the emergency room, and they refused to tell me which hospital to take my girl to even though I was a member – fuckers, so I ended up paying out the ass because I went to the wrong fucking hospital). Just tell me, if I have this document will I be under exclusions, I am looking for simply a yes or no.” She tells me no, I will not be under any exclusions. I had a 15 minute moronic conversation to get to this answer because she is trained to give no information and to let people fuck themselves.

So there ended up being some other things that made this whole deal unattractive and we did not end transfer to the new plan. My point to all of this is that it pisses me off companies like these are not there to help you, they are there to cover their asses and if you do not play twenty questions they will tell you nothing. They want to save money, and want you to pay more money. They will fuck you as much as you want, but when it comes to post coital comforting, there is none of that shit. Nope, it’s all the fucking you want and when you are done they move on to the next customer. If you have no money you can kiss their ass. And when they only want to pay $2 dollars for a $10 million dollar bill, be ready to pay for the rest of your life cause that measly third of your paycheck they take from you is a drop in the bucket and means more or less nothing to them. It is more of a punishment that you endure so you do not endure some horrible 5th mortgage expense from a hospital stay.

I have written way too much and it’s not even what I meant to talk about. Just sort of worked up about my insurance issue. I hope soon I will no longer have to deal with this thorn in my side. We shall see!

Gushing Over A New Blog

2005-06-25T08:48:00.000-04:00

Its time for me to gush over another blogger. So you know my favorite blogger is my favorite porn star, Mimi, but I had, until now developed only one blog crush and that was THL, but I have found a new one.

I have suspected she could be a new crush, but could never get to her site, which I tried to get to from Chris's blog, Retuirn to Happiness. This is the blog of Jules, who is married to Bubbah.

As I was/am in a fog, I cannot recall how I stumbled on to it, but I have now found her blog:

Cheaper Than Meat

And so now I have found yet another blog crush. But I swear Mimi, since you are my only beautiful, sexy hot wife, you will understand... It is not because of her red hair, its cause she has a great blog, so thanks for stopping by Jules.

Apathy... Customer Service At Its Best!

2005-06-25T08:46:00.000-04:00

Tonight has been busy. Not so busy that you feel as if the world is swirling around like one were in the middle of a tornadic funnel being whisked off to somewhere past fucking Kansas, but it has been busy, or maybe the word is steady. However, something scary happened to me tonight, something I loathe something I cannot fucking stand and something that pisses me off more than you know.

Let me back up… I lived on this tiny island in the Pacific once upon a time. Unfortunately it was not with Mimi because she would have loved it and we could have fucked (I should probably say, made love or at least said, have sex, but I like the shock value of fuck! Ok?!) in all sorts of cool places and setting. Unfortunately this wonderful paradise was wasted on the ice queen with whom I hade previously wed. At any rate, upon arrival, I was warned about this thing called “island time.”

You see… things in the tropics and most especially on islands go at a much different pace than here in the states. If you have been to Jamaica or the Bahamas you have most certainly experienced this, and if not previously warned, you would take this pace as people being stupid or just not really giving a damn. But island time is part of the natural order of these places because everything just moves slowly and why should you be in a rush anyway… you are on a fucking island!

So I learned to adapt to my clients being late to meetings and as I took most of my meetings at beach clubs or terrace restaurants, who am I to complain. I mean I have no problem waiting to meet clients while looking over a beach filled with beautiful scantily clad women. I cannot think of any other place I would rather be except with my wife when she is lying there scantily or completely un-clad (oh yes, what a sight) on the beach, right!?

One thing I did not know prior to coming to this paradise, one thing I never got used to, and something that pissed me off more than anything in the world was customer service, something which was not necessarily linked with island time, but is directly linked to laziness. It was not unusual to go to a store, ask for help with the location of a product and be told that item did not exist within the confines of the store or even worse, they were out of something. Now realize it is an island and that everything that one buys on any island except coconuts, papaya, plantains, breadfruit, thatch hats and baskets, have to be brought in by ship. So a store being out of something, like say, a specific car with specific options, or a 2 billion carat diamond or even a model of a brand new phone, computer or video that just premiered is feasibly possible and in some cases probable. But when one goes into a store and asks, “where are your bars of soap?” and you are told “we are out…” Well that is fucked up customer service. Especially when you go hunting for said item because you are pissed at the fact they just gave you a proverbial “fuck you I don’t wanna help you,” and out of the sheer satisfaction you find it and look them down while purchasing said item and they know you are telling the sales person (without saying it of course) to “fuck off,” themselves!

Well that customer service or as some call it, “customer-no-service” is a pet peeve of mine. But tonight I cannot believe what happened to me. Or maybe not so much what happened to me, more like what I did and almost did not do. I almost pulled a customer-no-service trick on someone. And that pisses me off because I am better than that, but that is what this apathy has brought me to at this place. I have told my people not to go down the rabbit hole. Do not learn too much, if you do, we will have to fix the problem. I say that because many times when we discover the problem, the question comes back as to why we did not find it sooner, or possibly that something we did caused the problem or any number of very nasty things, because it seems there always must be a fall guy and if something has been sitting around for a long time waiting to be discovered, it is not so much, “hey thanks for a good job in identifying the problem and fucking fixing it!” No its more like, why the fuck didn’t you find it sooner, we should fucking fire you!

Ok so that may be a bit extreme, but not so much a stretch in general. My point is, we do what we are supposed to do and I have learned it does not really pay to excel too very much, otherwise you are liable to get burnt because the name of the game at this organization is CYA. I refuse to CYA because that is a nutless way to go about things, I have just become apathetic to the entire situation. So what prompted this whole diatribe when I really ought to be talking about the one time Mimi and I fucked on the balcony of the condo we stayed in a few summers ago where I know the entire world heard us (ok it was really her, she is a screamer, one of the many things that I love so much about that woman) and where I have a good idea some people saw us. Why? Because I am pissed at myself.

So this may not sound like a big deal to you, but I will refer back to an earlier post and the fact my wife recently commented how it has become very apparent that I do not treat this job with the same zeal I would normally have when working. It, however, is true and last night is a prime example. So one of my folks comes to me and tells me there is a small problem. Our information indicates the issue is minor, but another one of my folks is finding some different information. So this guy asks me how I want to proceed. At first I told him that if, in general, the issue was of no consequence, then we do not really need to disturb someone in the middle of the night. However, I was curious to see if there were any client specific instructions. What I found was that basically if the issue was not a big deal, don’t bother the client.

Now I start thinking, it may be a big issue, but what we are reacting to points to something rather insignificant, and if we do nothing no one will know the better and someone else can deal with it and the client really does not need too know at the moment. So I can let the other fucker who discovers this is a real issue deal with the problem. That is what I wanted to do, I even began moving my folks in that direction and then my guy started asking “what if” and then I had to rethink and remember that I was here for the customer. In the end, we did what was right for the customer, we had to contact him, and we did what was right and fixed the problem.

My point to all of this is I almost became that which I despise and hate. And that just pisses me off. It makes me realize how badly I must find something else. It makes me realize how jaded Corporate America has made me. It just pisses me off! So I will go home, get a few hours sleep, wake up and enjoy this evening and tomorrow. Monday morning I will be hitting the job search again, as I do most Mondays looking and calling and making my contacts. I must find something soon.

As I close I will impart upon you again, and since you spent your time trudging through all my bullshit… I took some pics of Mimi, and I think I may even set some things up to post other pics, but I will try to post some very naughty pics of Mimi on her blog and on this one. She wants me to post her wet tee pics, so that will be one of my goals this weekend.

Sleep, Dreams, Visions & Harmony...

2005-06-24T06:01:00.000-04:00

Like all married couples, we (Mimi & I) get angry with one another form time to time. Today was/is one of those times. You can read all about it on her blog, but not on this one.

I am tired, I did not get enough sleep, the sleep I got was completely drug ridden, and I am still feeling a bit rummy eyed even now. Coffee is my friend and that really is not a good thing. I may have to pop a couple of pills this morning to get to sleep again. The two pill combo worked nicely actually. I have been trying to avoid that but getting home late today, which is early afternoon, entering into a tift in continuance with Mimi, screaming babies all about, and a screaming babbling bird, plus a son who lost his mind and decided to wake me just as I was on the very verge of blissful sleep tend to fuck up the whole luxury of sleep. Oh and let me tell you that this whole sleep thing… is a luxury.

It is quiet all about the office at the moment. I like it this way, especially on nights when I feel exhausted in the way I do. I like the quiet, it is comforting. No one is talking to you, or even around you. The silence is good. I miss the silence. On Saturday night I will lie in my bed, and just before I turn over to sleep I will listen to the gentle whirring of a fan in another room but outside of that I will hear silence. The quiet. I might hear my puppy’s breath as she breaths, and if Mimi drifts off before I, I will hear her soft sounds of breathing, but that is all. I like that too, when the room is dark and there is total silence.

During the day, I sleep in this half haze of light, I cannot get our room completely dark. I should set it up that way, but that costs money and Mimi would not like what would have to be done to make the room like that. But darkness, and how wonderful to have pitch black darkness when I sleep, is something I only experience a few days out of the week. I would hate to live in Alaska during the summer, only to experience that hazy of light twenty-four hours a day when it is not really night but not really day. I miss the night, and I long for it four days a week, and luxuriate in the stillness and quiet of that time.

The other days during the week, I hear a droning noise, all day long as I sleep. Well I know when I fall asleep I probably do not truly “hear” it, but it is there in the background; another noise. It is white sound. I use it to cancel out the other noise, but the drawback to white sound I am beginning to find, is that it does drone. It permeates my environment, it echoes through my head and its soft “shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” sound can some times grow louder and louder even though the volume has never been touched. And as the outside noises of dogs, children, and assholes driving cars with 1,000,000,000 Watt subwoofer that are built to rattle houses to the ground drive past my windows, the roar of the white noise continues to grow. At night when I wake up I sometimes wake up with a headache and until this machine is turned off my head pounds.

That is what it is like to sleep in my house on any given day as I come off this bullshit shift. I have another co-worker with whom I discuss this issue with, and at first before he came on my shift, I thought I was acting the whiney ass bitch, but as my buddy came on the shift I began hearing the exact same laments from him. So I know I am not so much a whiney ass bitch. Now I know I could be trying to catch some zzzzzzz’s on the hard desert ground in 110+ degree heat, while worrying if I am going to have some ass-wipe insurgent try to pick me off. So in the scheme of things, this complaint of mine does not go very far, but in my immediate macrocosm this pisses me off and makes my life flat out suck. For now, I will simply try to enjoy the sleep I get and look towards the sleep I know I will get in the near future.

With my somewhat restful periods of sleep, I sometimes dream and other times do not. But in my state tonight, I have had a waking dream. My dream is a dream of hope and future happiness. My dream entails harmony within my family. My dream includes the exclusion of bad elements which have invaded my home. The elements I might add were brought into our lives voluntarily for the most part, but that does not mean I cannot despise what I have done in hindsight. But I have had a vision.

In that vision I see two planets, and a sun reflecting bright light off both of them. And their orbits about this sun, are lazy elliptical paths, that cross one another from time to time, but both planets maintain a separate path, neither interfering with the other. Then one day a giant chunk of clear glass like ice crashes into one of the planets breaking into millions of shards. The planet wobbles, but seems to stay in place. But, over time as each passing orbit is completes, the harmony between the two planets seems to change. The planets seem to cross paths more, and the planets seem to cross paths at closer intervals than previously known. One day, these two planets, one mightier in natural resources than the other, one mightier in planetary moral strength gently touch and collide. Both planets seem to still be in balance and the natural order of the two still seemed to be intact, but something is going wrong.

During all of this, the inhabitants of the planet have everyday problems, but those inhabitants seem to be happy. And regardless of the planet, there are always storms and showers, and natural occurrences. But for the most part things are happy. One day, however, the inhabitants of the planet of mighty strength discover they have now have a limited number of natural resources, and must do what it takes to save them and their planet. This is a tough spot they are in, as they have never had such an issue before. They have enjoyed the life on their planet with abandon. They do not enjoy the excesses of those on other planets, but they do enjoy themselves and now find that even these small excesses must be reduced in order to maintain the life of the planet. They must learn to grow and discover new resources to further their life on the planet. They realize this may take some time but it is necessary and the pay-off will be good for them and their planet alike. As at anytime when the fun must end, and things done differently and there is less, a lull of harmony can occur. And to the planet and its inhabitants, a lull in the general state of happiness did occur.

The planet of resources slowly and imperceptibly continues to wobble and stray ever so slightly off its natural orbit. No once can see this, not even the planet of great resources understands what is happening. Soon, the two planets collide for real. Both planets’ natural balances are thrown once again, but the mighty planet of strength seems to have been lightly phased, but phased none the less. The other planet has a huge gash and now the planet’s molten core is spewing for all to see. This is all the result of the huge comet like piece of ice striking the planet and throwing it off its natural sense of order. It does not take long before the planet starts spinning erratically, and off kilter, and the orbit becomes less defined. The gravity of the planet starts flinging the atmosphere away as the planet continues to spew its molten self up from the center polluting its atmosphere and blackening its surface. The planet becomes uninhabitable and all is flung away from the planet and the planet one day simply implodes upon itself.

As this all occurs, the other planet can only watch till the final event of implosion occurs, and this goodly planet must endure a pelting from the shards of its neighboring planet. Quickly, this planet thinks to itself, I hope that the debris will clear and the natural order of all will return. Because, since the neighboring planet has endured such misfortunes it chunks of debris have flown from the neighboring planet causing disturbances and aberrations of harmony on the goodly strong planet. But with the final days of the neighboring planet and the realization that its friendliness with the planet is over, there is a hope harmony will return. The inhabitants of the surviving planet are still picking up from their own close call with disaster; they are still growing and looking for new resources. But during this, they all know the implosion of the planet is complete and the shards will soon disappear, and soon they will have rediscovered the natural resources they need, and harmony will return to this planet and the sun will shine on them as it did in the beginning.

* Mimi - Naked Here, There, & Everywhere!

2005-06-23T04:23:00.000-04:00

NOTE: This is post #2 tonight

As the night is getting on and I must do some other things, there is but one other thing I want to touch on tonight. If you have read Mimi’s blog about our Big Night Out, I was left with desire to mention something she had touched on before and to extend the bounds of our somewhat deviant (or what I think might be deviant) penchant to have sex in public places.

Last night I touched on an episode where Mimi and I went out a few weekends ago and we went to the bookstore (BTW, we may have to do that again this weekend as there is a book I want to get “The World Is Flat” so maybe we can explore some additional things together. As you may recall we went to the bookstore and she was wearing this dress and nothing else, she was naked other than her little dress and sandals. I played with her in the store and she even (and I think it was purely accidental due to the dress) flashed me as she sat down. Afterwards we ended up at a construction site whereupon she became naked and we had sex.

This weekend, we went out and I was the happy recipient of a blowjob at a post office outlet after dinner. Now really, WTF is someone doing getting mail at 9:30 at night on a fucking Saturday night? And I do not mean just one person, I mean several people. I was thinking today, since the first guy was by himself, maybe I should have just stayed there and let Mimi continue with me, I mean what is this guy going to say about that? I mean you are a guy, you walk on another guy in a fairly remote place and his wife is squatting blowing him with her legs spread wide apart showing her nicely coiffed almost bald pussy. Now that is a great fucking sight! I swear as I think about it even now, I should have said nothing. It would have been interesting and hell, by the time he was in and she knew what was going on, what could any of us do but go on with our business.

So then, after we avoided getting caught, we ended up at this hotel. Now we had originally thought about going to Mimi’s alma mater and checking out the 50 yard line (a suggestion from Chris) but the travel time, plus the time it would take to go elsewhere if the escapade was not feasible would have severely eaten into our time out and Mimi’s patience. So we went to this hotel, went to the men’s room (nice hotel, nice restroom, nice private stalls, basically a room enclosed with a toilet) and set to oral sex upon one another. Mimi decided afterwards, we should have fucked… After thinking about it, I told her that is one more thing we could do.

Now in another post, of Mimi’s she has listed places where we have had sex in public, it is a good list, but I was thinking based on a couple of these things, I have a list of places I would like to have sex with her or places I would like to see her masturbate.

What I would like (besides the 50 yd line at one of our alma maters – we are scouting that one out) is some additional sites besides these:

*A quite bookstore where she can sit and I can watch her play with herself
*In a library where I can masturbate her to climax
*In a porn theater, where I can strip her naked and fuck Mimi
*At a peep show (there is one place I know in our city), and do the same as above
*Another nice bathroom, but this time leave the stall door cracked open
*Would like to take Mimi shopping and let her leave the curtain to the dressing room a little open and watch her get herself off
*That big fountain in that subdivision we saw this past weekend Mimi
*At a regular movie theater that is empty before a movie (again)
*At the park we discussed, you in a dress sitting on my hard cock seeing how long we can sit and watch others around us with me in you.
*On the train
*At a partially constructed office building or house. Maybe even with workers about with the possibility of discovery.
*At the post office again (a different one)
*In an alley, you wearing your vinyl dress
*At the side of a shopping center like this past weekend, But I will get you completely naked first.
*On that picnic furniture by that McDonalds where we took pictures that one time

And I cannot think of any others at the moment (and maybe that is a good thing as this may make me look pretty deviant as it is...) Maybe someone else can help us out with other ideas and scenarios.

I have one thing that Mimi left out about Saturday night… When we got home, she wanted me to take some pics of her in a wet t-shirt, so a t-shirt we got her, a cup of ice cold water, the digital camera and into the hot tub we went. But to get to all of that, when getting out of the car upon our arrival back home, I had her remove her dress, and she got to walk to the door naked, and then I began to kiss on her and run my hands all over her naked body before going into the house. Just as we stepped into the house a car came around the corner, oblivious of my wife’s nakedness. Then on our way out to the tub, we took the long way around; through the front door, around the side and to the back. I love watching my wife walk around naked outside. I wanted to throw her down in the soft grass and go down on her again… maybe I should have… Maybe I will next time. We shall see.

Wolves, Shepherds, Sheep, & New Horizons

2005-06-23T04:20:00.000-04:00

Such a rant I embarked upon yesterday. I was all up in arms, and it was a subject I have been trying to get to for well over a week, basically since the day (06/14/05 which happens to be Flag Day) I heard Dick Durbin’s comments.

Today I am a much happier person, not that I was pissed with the world or anything yesterday, but that whole issue had been bubbling for some time, a topic about which I wanted to soapbox. So I have read through my favorite blogs and must go ahead and knock out my nightly post as there are other things on the agenda tonight.

I hope I do not jinx myself, but I must tell you all I have an interview on a position I desperately want, and not because this place sucks ass and is an extension of the 13th round of Hell. This position is written for me; it is the “ideal” position and will put me back onto my career aspirations, rather than being just a job where I get paid for working and doing my time. I mentioned some posts ago, that I was not going to talk about my interviews and the such, but I am pretty excited and that is what is on my mind at the moment. I have had other interviews over the weeks and months and I have not mentioned them, and for good reason, they have not panned out. I have some others coming up as well, but this is a position I am after, and I want it, so it is at the forefront of my thoughts. My fear… I will come back to this place tomorrow night feeling as if the interviews were disastrous, or I wait week after week again for naught.

Now that I have expressed my fears, I will put them behind me, and I will be the wolf. I tell my son that he too is a wolf. There are three kinds of people, the shepherds, the sheep, and the wolves. Please do not think I am condescending, and this is only my philosophical view on life, but here goes.

Shepherds – these are the very good and gracious people in the world, they are wise and spiritual people. Now these folks don’t have to be clergy or “Holy” people and probably most of them are not. My wife is one of these people, she tries to guide me to help me become a better person, but I fear have many more lives to go before I become enlightened.

Sheep – most people are sheep. The best way I can describe the sheep is they are the people in the middle of lanes of the interstate during rush hour. They do what everyone else does, they honestly care what other people think of them, and follow the crowd, rarely thinking “out of the box”. I think sheep are generally not creative, but for the most part are pleasant people.

Wolves – I am a wolf, and like most wolves I think we tend to have an overbearing personality. We are creative, think out of the box, look for alternatives, make creative decisions and make them quickly. We are strong willed and really do not put a lot of credence in what others think of us. We are leaders and most people think we are mean, arrogant and uncaring.

Since I have been at my current place of employment I have played the sheep as I want no trouble, no real responsibility, and to maintain my position I know I cannot be vocal or challenging. I am not in a position to get things done here, to make things happen, to bring about improvement, to make things better for the organization or the people. This machine expects performance and nothing more from me. My interview tomorrow represents a new opportunity to throw off the sheep’s clothing and get back to the wolf I am at heart. But not only does it represent this opportunity, but I miss being the wolf, and I miss getting excited about my job, and I miss doing something I see as meaningful not only to myself but for other people.

I mean, I shit you not, that if I could do something big for people; to do something philanthropic that would be big, to organize it, run it, and do something good for a lot of people, I would. I enjoy making things happen, to see a project completed and see people getting something positive from those things I have built. I know of this structure in a city I once used to live where I was a primary manager. I remember the excitement I had the day the project started as it was the first one I would both start and finish. The day it was finished, there was a large party I attended, and I felt full of accomplishment that the final punch list had been completed and the final payment made to the contractors. It was a pretty huge day for me.

It is jobs like this, that I will be interviewing for today, that will allow me to feel those sort of accomplishments again. It has been much too long since I cared about what I do. I look forward to feeling that sense of accomplishment again. I hope this is the one thing I have been hoping for over these past months.

Its Good To Be A Dick, or Just DICK!

2005-06-22T07:10:00.000-04:00

I feel better now! Why do I feel better, I have gotten caught up on my posts. That is assuming I finish this and get it posted this morning. But this is not going to be one of my more humorous postings, but hopefully not as dark as the one about child molesters and murderers. One thing I am going to try my damnedest from doing is making this a political post or rather I should say, I am not going to slam on the Dems specifically. I am going to take down one particular Dem, but not because of his party affiliation, but because this ass-clown has fucked up and now back tracked and is a nutless fuck bag that needs to be detained by whacked out Islamic Wahhabist Radicals who want nothing better to do than cut the heads off innocent civilians because they themselves are nothing but nutless cowards who seek to kill innocent people while hiding behind their cowardly blasphemous religious ways.

I once again remind you this is not a slam on the Dems, this is a slam on Dick Durbin and he and those like him be it Democrat, Republican, Arab or what have you. If you feel the way Dick Durbin feels then I am talking to you and I will pitch a war of words with you. There is a caveat in that challenge, you must serve or have served your country in peace or war, and you must have gone through at least one survival school and dealt with severe ass-kickings. Then and only then will I enter into a war of words because if you have done these two things you will be in a position to have a minutia of understanding what it feels like to be a prisoner.

So there I sat… No Shit (this is how all good military stories start), I was cold, I had these thin blue pajama things on, and some boots with no laces. I heard myself across the loud speaker system and the horrible things I said about my country, about the people I was with and I started to cry. I could not understand it, those were none of the things I had said, they turned everything around. I knew my buddies would not believe what they heard, but what about the others? I had no idea, I was broken, and that was what did it. The beatings, and everything else that was easy, but I had been tricked and they used my intelligence and my knowledge to break me.

Several days later I was ordered to turn around, and salute the flag of the people. The people of who I was now part of and joined. We all refused (I am not sure if I am even supposed to tell this part, it is like telling an ending of a story which should be kept secret), but finally we were forced to turn and salute this flag. My intention, and I know based on our training the entire team’s intention, was never to salute the flag but keep our eyes turned down, or give the bird in a mock salute or something like that. But we turned, saw the stars and stripes, and the national anthem was played and we cried. All of us, and even at this moment as I write this I force myself from tearing up because the emotion of that day being “repatriated” still lingers in me. In that moment as the pea gravel shooshed with all of us turning around, and looking upon the flag, I understood what it was to be one of those who defends their country. For a moment, I was a patriot, I was one of those few who stood for their country in harms way and would have gladly died for her. I understood what it was to be part of a brotherhood of military men who had fought and died, but I also learned a little of what it was like to be captured tortured and to understand what it took for those men who were POWs to make it out alive to come home to this wonderful land of ours.

After my first school I attended several other schools. I wanted to be a better stronger willed person. I wanted never to be beaten and broken again. I learned several times over, very basic techniques of resistance in a POW situation. But not until last week did I learn something else. There are those in our ranks, people in our country, that have not the foggiest clue as to what abuse is, what interrogation mean, and what it takes to extract information from prisoners and terrorists. They simply have no clue.

So these guys start walking up to the rolled barbed wire. They wore tattered clothes, they had holes in their boots, they had shed most, if not all, of their equipment. Some brought weapons that were empty of bullets to trade or sell (the had been told that we would only help them if they had something to trade) they were hungry because they had not had even partial rations for days. Most of all they were scared of the US military because they were told their imprisonment would be harsher than the most hellish of Saddam’s prisons, a place called Abu Graib. They were told the US soldiers would slaughter them, and roast their flesh and eat it while drinking alcohol on the holy sacred ground of Mesopotamia. They were told their women would be raped beaten and tortured if we invaded, that they would be ripped apart under torturous conditions. The only way they could avoid these tortures was to fight to the death, resist all help from the Americans. For all that, these Iraqi soldiers were starved and given limited rations and provided no support, little to no water, no uniform refresh, they were given nothing. And the desert is hot my friends, at the height of the day it can soar to over 120 degrees Fahrenheit. We do not fight in the day, or we try not to fight in the day, we fight at night and rest during the day when we can. They forced themselves to turn themselves over to us, knowing that their fate was doomed. All of them were repatriated to go home, fully fed, sent with rations with clothes, and all treated for their medical ailments. And at the end of the conflict they brought the word back, the American soldiers were not beasts of hell, but men of mercy and truth.

Now, I am not sure if you know of all the atrocities that go on foreign soils, I am not sure if you know about the Hanoi Hilton, or the death camps in Pyongyang (these are not only for POWs but for civilians as well), or if you know of the gulags of Stalin and Hitler, or of Auschwitz or Bergen-Belsen. If you do not know of these places, I implore you to research them. I will not go into the graphic sickening details of the Abu Graib of Saddam’s day, and I will not go into a history of the hell our American POWs have endured at places like Bataan, or the other Japanese camps of Asia during WWII. I refuse to put you through the mind numbing graphic detail of torture, murder and truly inhumane treatment of POWs.

So DICK… Dick Durbin that is, Dick Durbin (D) Illinois, Senator Dick Durban otherwise known as Richard Durban, who is a Senator of Illinois, you are the reason why I am glad we have free speech. I am glad you were able to stand up in front of America and shame our military, but instead shame yourself. I am glad you have now stood up in front of America and back peddled because you a are worthless spineless piece of human refuse. You sir have not a fucking clue as to what inhuman treatment is, you have no idea what some of these people are capable of, you have no idea what a garden of Eden the prisoners of Guantanamo Bay reside in as compared with where they came. They were “free” before Gitmo, but they were free to kill our citizens, and free to repress women, and free to kill those who do not believe humankind should be free to make their own choices, they were free to live in caves, and they were free to inflict torture on people who for the most part were innocent, they were free to shoot people in the head for minor crimes against their religion in soccer fields while being televised on state TV.

Now these people DICK, live in cells bigger than barracks rooms I had when I was in garrison and had two to four additional bunk mates, these prisoners have to endure non air conditioned rooms, while our soldiers lie out in the battlefield under a poncho for shade in 120 degree weather, waiting to move on to the next engagement. These people get lukewarm water, while our troops have nice hot water from their canteens or have to wait for their next re-supply. Have you ever had to drink an IV because you had no water DICK? I thought not!

I think you know not what you talk about when comparing the conditions of the prisoners of Gitmo to the treatment our fellow Americans and various contractors receive before their beheadings. I dare say they do not get air conditioning, three meals a day, fresh linen and a pool to lounge about while waiting for their execution. Sure our prisoners may have to listen to some rap music at an excessive level, and sure they may not get 8 hours of sleep, and sure they may be hosed down from time to time. Big fucking deal! I had that bullshit happen to me DICK! I had worse happen to me and I was in fucking training. And it happens day in and day out to many professional soldiers training to deal with the threat of torture at the hands of an enemy. And I want you to know DICK, that 99% of all those fuckers in Gitmo know they will be released to go home some day, alive and healthy. You cannot say that about our soldiers and civilians.

So let me tell you DICK, I don’t even want you to walk a mile, all you have to do is walk a half mile in my shoes and then maybe you can talk. But let me tell you… You cannot do it, because you lack something my brethren and I have; Integrity. You know why I know you do not have that quality, because you back tracked and you made an apology for statements that you made. But you could not even take the fucking blame for your own statement you blamed it on the media, on a right-wing conspiracy, on the fact it was out of context. Well DICK, you are no man; you are a spineless coward who cannot even take responsibility for your own actions. You cannot stand for your convictions, you helped and continue to help the terrorists and enemies of our country by being spineless and thus you are a traitor to those you say you serve out of complicity by being a purveyor of untrue baseless arguments due to your own self gratifying ignorant and cowardly statements.

So to both of my readers, I apologize for my rant, my hope is somehow this will get googled, and I get a billion hits, and this makes it to the email rounds and this dick at some point gets to see what I think of him. So thank you for enduring through my ranting and I promise a bit more enjoyable reading through out the week.

Old Post, New Post... I Am Playing Catch Up!

2005-06-22T04:12:00.000-04:00

Ok… so I am in trouble here. I fear my readership of two readers is going to wane and that, as is quite apparent with only two readers, is a huge circulation problem. You see, I understand that in order to maintain readership, one must provide new reading material to maintain interest. I have failed the both of you (you know, I admit and realize there may be more of you out there, I just only know of two confirmed readers, although after the lack of posting lately, I could be down to only two readers by now, if even that many. So make comments and let me know you are here please!)! I am sorry and most humbly repent for those words I have let unwritten and thus unread!

So in order to catch up, to provide you some material and to show I was not slacking on purpose last week, the following material includes partial entries I had planned to post last week. Unfortunately I actually had work on my shifts last week, so everything came to a screeching halt.

Now here is the deal, I will proof this stuff quickly and as well as I can (I am sure you can tell I do not proof very well, and as my dear and loving wife has pointed out, I tend to ramble in almost a stream of consciousness way, stringing sentences together, thus creating a rambling effect and potentially making no sense during the entire long drawn out diatribe and quite probably tend to lose the reader as I continue down that sometime mind numbing series of event I began about at the beginning of the sentence or parenthetical), but these entries are partials with no conclusion and sometimes little body… but at least you will have a glimpse into the general thoughts I had last week. Most of which had to do with my wife, her being naked, and sex with my wife, and maybe a couple of other things thrown in… So here we go!

So this happened last week… If you read Mimi’s blog you read about the Crazies and the GREAT MELTDOWN, as that is exactly what happened. Mimi IMed me about the incident as it unfolded, here is the entry I began to put together:

… I am not rejoicing nor do I find the situation humorous, but at the same time, it is hard to turn ones eyes from a train wreck that is happening right in front of your very eyes!

The heat was turned up another notch today, and I fear like Mt Vesuvius, the pressure was too great and an eruption took place. Is this but a crack in the dome or did the whole thing blow up. I cannot say for sure at the moment, but I do know the Crazies have made it to the deep water.

Mimi IMed me and the following conversation took place:

Mimi: Hey baby
Mimi: Things are really getting bad across the street....
Mimi: MM called the police
Mimi: Mrs. C came over here and brought MB and Mrs. C had a big cut on her leg from him throwing something
Mimi: The police are there now
Mimi: Damn, there are two cops there now
Me: holy shit
Me: I cannot believe this shit
Me: lemme see if I can get out of here
Me: I do not want you to be there by yourself
Mimi: Oh baby, I think it is ok. I mean the cops are there
Me: just keep an eye out
Me: I want to know where Mr. C is
Me: be it in handcuffs
Me: I do not want you at home there by yourself if Mr. C is left there
Mimi: Well, I did lock the door :-)
Mimi: I can’t imagine they will let him stay there
Me: just keep a watch
Me: and let me know what happens
Me: windows can be broken
Mimi: Yeah, ok
Mimi: Shit, they just brought him out in handcuffs and put him in the car
Me: ok
Me: well he will be forbidden to come back there
Me: he has been tossed out
Mimi: Yeah, Mrs. C said she wanted him out until she could get an apartment
Me: she is going to see an attorney today
Mimi: yes, I think so
Me: and they will probably file some things today
Me: and he will have to pay
Me: you know it was only a matter of time

That happened on Wednesday morning and when I got in that night I tried to diligently begin working on a post after deciding not to post the IM session. I have now decided to post the IM session and this next entry I planned to post with a link to the full story on Mimi’s blog…

… As I gazed across the street this evening prior to going to work, I had to think, what the hell is wrong with those people. The house was quiet and dark as I left, my wife in bed, probably asleep already from the stressful day she endured. For the first time ever, two babies slept in my house, and my son was probably asleep too as I did not see any light emanating from the upstairs as I turned off the kitchen light to exit the house, nor did I see any lights through the windows of our house as I stood outside.

Looking across the street, the house was empty but lights inside were on and I could see several cabinets in the kitchen open, but empty. No one stirred in the house and I wondered what it looked like inside after the events of this morning. You see, this morning the trains collided, the world imploded, and the final inkling of a marriage that should have never been, ended yesterday. Now if I am mistaken about the ending of this abortion of a marriage, I will have to ask both parties directly WTF they were thinking after they get back together.

So with a cut and bleeding leg, Mrs. C brought MB over to Mimi and told Mimi that MM had called the police on Mr. C because he had basically cracked. He was throwing shit all over the house and at… (So I never finished the entry, the rest of the story is here)

Now, several times I started a post, but never finished because of fucking work.. Geez what a suck ass place this is! [I have made a prepositional faux pas… yes, just like the joke: A northern lady and a Southern Lady were standing in a line next to one another and the Southern Lady turned to the Northern Lady and said, “Why, that is the most beautiful dress you are wearing, where did you get it at?” The Northern Lady having a Yankee attitude, looked at the Southern Lady and said, “My dear, being a properly schooled woman I must tell you, that you should never end your sentences in a preposition…” The Southern Lady, being the ever so demur southern belle, blushed in what appeared to be embarrassment, smiled a gentile (spoken as “jen-teel”) smile, and in a fashionably gracious way said, “Oh I am so sorry let me start over… Why, that is the most beautiful dress you are wearing, where did you get it at BITCH?”]

Yes I know rambling and digressing once again… So this entry is about Mimi, and an outing we had a little more than a week ago. I never finished, and I may complete it depending on the week, so basically this has no ending and leaves you completely hanging… You see I must tell you about the blowjob in the Post Office and sex in the restroom from this past weekend…

… (written Saturday morning) So much to write about, and I am just not sure where to start… I feel like I am at the big money table and I have no idea where to place my chips. There is the domestic hell that erupted this week (Mimi covered that for the most part), there is this ass-clown DICK Durbin I want to kick in the nuts (assuming he has any in the first place, and it appears he has none since he is discussing apologies) as well as slander (actually it won’t be slander since he is a slimeball and knows it), there is always the on-going saga of my job and the hell associated with that, and then at some point I just have to talk about this movie I discovered, “The Girl Next Door”… High cheese factor but higher gratuity (I know just like a guy…)! And finally, I want to talk about my wife walking around in public naked. Well not naked, but practically naked. So where do I start?

Ok, how about my wife, I started writing about this some days ago, but never finished. You see, one thing I love about the South in the summer is what women tend to wear, or rather what they do not wear… I love seeing women’s bare legs and sandaled feet, their tummies (especially with a belly piercing), bare shoulders and the natural bounce of their breasts while wearing pretty much next to nothing. That is how it is with women in the South as the days lengthen and things heat up to a steamy sultry temperature. They shed their clothing and become these seductive creatures of beauty with a shimmery glean on their bare skin during the high heat of the day, God they are beautiful, I thank you Lord for these works of art you bestowed upon the earth. To look upon their curves and their gait when they walk, just makes one want to love everyone of them. BUT… I am married to my own Southern belle and I get to see her curves and her gait, and her bouncing breasts every day completely naked at home and not so naked elsewhere, but then again completely naked in other places too! You will see how all this relates to Mimi in a moment.

So last weekend Mimi and I planned to go out for a few hours. What we did in general isn’t where I am going with this entry though. It is something she did that I enjoyed and look forward to whenever we go out. You see, I have a tendency to do something that pisses my wife off, and I wonder if I am the only guy that does this… I am not sure, but regardless, I have a tendency to ask Mimi to wear certain things. Yes, sometimes I treat her like a giant dress up porn doll. When we are going out I know what I would like to see her in, and like to challenge her to wear certain things. At times she acquiesces to my more outlandish requests, like the time she wore her plaid skirt, her sheer bra and a sheer blouse. We went out taking pics at a mall and on the train and then enjoyed some naughtiness.

On some occasions she wears exactly what I would have asked her to wear like this past weekend. She wore a sundress, and well… she wore some sandals, but that was it, the dress. She is pretty hot in general but when she is basically naked with the exception of a dress covering her, it truly makes me horny. We went to a bookstore and had some coffee. And as she sat down at a table I turned in time to watch her sit and cross her legs. The dress being quite short, exposed her bare pussy. I wanted her to keep her legs uncrossed but I could not convey that to her from where I was in line getting our coffee.

Now, when we first got in the car, she made a comment about looking slutty. I told her that she looked like a woman in a sundress. I grant the dress was short, but most women and girls where short dresses, short skirts, short shorts, and tiny tops. She looked no different than most any other attractive woman who would be out on a relatively warm or hot day.

So going through the bookstore, we went to our favorite section and this section at this particular store is set in an alcove type area with a reading chair for patrons. So as we were perusing the area, I was able to reach up her dress as play with her nicely trimmed bush and smooth shaven lips, looking as if I were trying to read what she was reading. All the while, oblivious to my actions was this guy sitting in the chair with his back to us.

… So there is more about up the dress play, Mimi naked at a construction site and other such goodies… But I shall have to come back to this at a later time.

Now I shall go on about some other things in a new entry and maybe revisit some things from old entries.

Busy, Busy, Busy....

2005-06-17T08:16:00.000-04:00

So busy I have been… I have actually had to work, which really sucks. Now one might say, Jay, you goldbricking lazy fucking non working fuck, what’s your problem, they pay you to work. Well you are exactly right except when you couldn’t pay anyone enough to deal with the bullshit my peers and I must endure on a daily basis, thus I am working my ass off to get out of here! But seriously I never signed up to get publicly flogged if I fuck up. Oh no, its not like that teenage punk in Singapore getting caned (Singapore should have never bent and just whipped that fuckers ass… we should do that here [yet a thought of something else I must speak about – that fucker DICK Durbin] so maybe these punk ass kids would straighten their asses up), its more a prideful flogging. We all get on this call each morning and the guys who fuck up because Monday Morning QBs know every fucking thing and what you “should” have done, not what you did, even though I am there to save someone’s bacon every time one of their poorly designed pieces of shit fails!

The upshot… I have not been able to provide you with one of my witty, insightful rambling diatribe. My hope is that this evening I will be able to provide you with such wit, as I have much to rant about and tell.

Vinnie The Hitman Moves to the Burbs...

2005-06-15T04:50:00.000-04:00

Yes! (In my mind I hear Napoleon Dynamite’s drawn out, Yessssssssssss) Another four days in hell! Now please, do not think I am excited or anything, I am not. I am trying to be optimistic as my fate continues to leave me trapped in the death grip of a titanic sinking with so many captains and officers running about trying to make some sense of the sinking monster they try to maintain. They direct everyone to fill the holes with their fingers, thumbs, and toes. Yes it is bad, and maybe not as bad as I make it out to be, but you know it is pretty sad when employees WANT to get laid off cause they know they will make some money off the deal.

So, here we are another night and what am I going to go on about? Well I had an interesting conversation with my wife today, something that is at the forefront of my thoughts. Yes, maybe even a bit worried, but in general a minor issue but something bearing caution.

In the army you are trained to be cautious and suspect anything. I recall during some training how we were in the triple canopy jungle, a place that is dim of sunlight even though the light is as bright as one could ever imagine 100 feet up above all the trees. The vegetation is still thick, and when moving upon an enemy site ANYTHING can happen, and one is to suspect anything. In the world of nature nothing is perfectly geometric, and anything that has a look of symmetry should be closely examined. That is how, when once being on point, I looked down and saw something that did not look right. I put my hand up to halt my team, and I knelt down. I couldn’t figure it out right away, but there was a problem in the undergrowth. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and my eyes focused. This was all from training and sensory perception of my environment.

As I knelt down it dawned on me what did not look right, a length of dark camouflaged twine ran across my path. It was hidden in the underbrush, but what stopped me as I was scanning was the fact across my path I saw a perfectly straight line in my field of vision. That is not a natural occurrence. My training paid off, and what I had almost stumbled across was a trip to a smoke grenade taped to a tree and hidden just off to the side where were moving. This told my team and me several things; that the way we were going was an expected route of entry to where the enemy was setup, there was probably an ambush site just up the way or at the very least and observation post where upon tripping the flare, our presence would be known so the folks at the OP would notify the rest of the enemy element, thus compromising our point of entry and our team in general.

As it worked out, we stopped, checked our map, made a deviation of route from our original plan, and attacked our opposition from an unexpected location, and won our engagement. But, had I not been on my game, we would have lost the engagement in a very bad way, thus would have gotten a no-go on our exercise.

So I have mentioned Motormouth in my blog several times. She is the annoying daughter of the Crazies, specifically the daughter of Mrs. C. I had wanted to give you some background on this wonderful young lady (hahaha, I cannot keep a straight face… sorry!), but as this story involves her, her history will remain some bit of an enigma of which I will elaborate at another time. What is most important is the fact she incessantly talks and is (I really hate saying this about a 13 yr old girl, but it is the truth) the most self involved little bitch I have ever known. I cannot blame her for being how she is because it was her mother who let her develop to the point where she has arrived. But her daily arrival at our home is dreaded by everyone (I am sure the little one would express the same if she could verbally express her thoughts). MM cannot stop talking; she walks in the door and is already talking, it could be to herself, on the phone, who knows, but she is incessantly talking. Mimi tends to get headaches that are bordering on migraines by the time MM walks out of the house. I mean two toddlers and this self involved teenager who cannot keep her mouth shut for a nanosecond. A true recipe for a migraine!

So apparently Mimi and MM were having a conversation, mind you the conversing was minimal on Mimi’s part, and MM related to Mimi an incident that occurred the other day. In some ways it is pretty humorous, but on many other levels, a bit disturbing. The incident involved me, in that I had gone over to the Crazies’ place found Mr. C. outside and threatened him with bodily harm if he did not give me a check.

Ok, I first want to examine the humor in this situation, as the vision of it all could be a great movie scene. That is how I see lots of things, as scenes form movies, I think my calling is to be a writer/director, but I have never figured out how to get there… I digress. So many folks look at me and think, this guy is “Family Connected.” I am a bit of a stout guy, with a big barrel chest, decent sized arms and all, of medium height, and I have the dark salt and pepper thing going on with my hair, and my features are a bit dark. I also spent some years in Philadelphia (so I now have a flat accent with a bit of NE flavor from time to time when I speak) and have on occasion been known to associate with kids in connected families while in school. But the most humorous part of this was I happened to be dressed in one of my suits when this occurred. So I probably did look the part. But my vision was me walking across the street, in my suit, me closing my hands on each other in front of me, my head cocking to the side, and me saying something like, “Hey, Mr. C. we need to talk… You see your wife gave me a bad check, and now I have to kick your ass if you don’t pay up.” He writes me a check, I look at it and say, “No, you see you don’t understand, now you owe interest, you are doing business with me, not my wife now. There is a vig we have to talk about… So I can go across the street and get a bat, and beat it out of you or you can pay up the 600% interest, whaddaya say?”

Ok, so look… don’t freak on me. That never happened. I am just thinking of some scene out of the movie, “Vinnie the Hitman Moves to the Burbs” that would be fucking excellent!

You see, apparently the Crazies have separate checking accounts, and as their train wreck of a marriage continues on its collision course, the chain reaction to implosion is not far away. Mimi is now having issues with getting money for taking care of their children. Mrs. C., to her credit, is very good about paying, but Mr.& Mr. C trade weeks on paying for the childcare, which Mimi provides at bargain basement rates. You will not get one on one care like this for the price Mimi is charging, much less regular daycare. So Mrs. C doesn’t pay Mimi on Friday, which made this past weekend a bit tough, but that is another issue. Monday morning she brings over a check but says it cannot be cashed till Wednesday at the earliest because she has to wait to get paid, and Mr. C refused to write a check. I will admit I was pretty furious about the whole situation. I mean what the fuck is the deal, where you cannot pay for your kid’s daycare? Now I understand Mr. C. never wanted Mrs. C. to work outside the home, because he wanted her to be a stay at home mom. Unfortunately, until all these legal issues are resolved, Mr. C. has real jail time looming over him and it does not appear those problems will be resolved any time soon. So Mrs. C. is hedging her bets and has been working for the past year getting certified and experience in a field that will be quite lucrative for her in the near future. The intent, is, if Mr. C gets jail time for the trumped up charges (yeah, this guy is innocent of the shit that has been brought against him, and his issue right now is a mental breakdown he refuses to acknowledge so he won’t get help and his parents refuse to acknowledge the issue either, so intervention is not going to happen, and he will continue to meltdown), Mrs. C will have a safety net so she and the children do not end up without a roof over their head and no money coming in the home while he is in jail.

What really happened? Admittedly, I was not happy about the situation in general. Mrs. C. annoys the shit out of me as does everyone else in their world. I do try to be a nice guy, and although I do have some issues with Mr. C. (we used to be decent friends, until his world collided with mine creating deep fissures between the families), I was not unpleasant at all. So the issue was, I had a check that was no good, and I needed one that was good. I noticed Mr. C. was around, and strode over to him after coming home from a meeting. And the conversation was short and sweet. I said, “Hey man, need to talk to ya for a sec… This is a bit awkward, but I need a check. Apparently the one Mrs. C. wrote Mimi isn’t any good till Wednesday.” I explained to him the issue leaving out the part of her accusing him of refusing to pay, he said, “no problem” and wrote me a check. Now he did mention how, “…fucking women, can’t get anything right. Leave it to a woman to fuck things up.” And a couple of other choice phrases. To which no comment was made by me. I let him vent. The other thing that occurred during our meeting was that his face was twitching all over. When I told him we needed to talk, he looked at me for a few moments till I began the next sentence, and his eye twitched and he just stared me down. So I began the next sentence of, “…this is awkward, but I need to get a check from you.”

I took the check, came home, and mowed the lawn. Mrs. C. Came to get MM and MB and Mimi, explained what happened, Mrs. C. was pleased I collected from him, and life went on as normal. Mimi’s headache went away, we had dinner and the evening was peaceful, except for all the fucking dishes we had to wash by hand! But other than that it was a good evening.

So now, I have to wonder, WTF is going on here? Has this guy melted down so far that his reality is distorted? Did he really say out loud that I threatened to kick his ass if he did not pay up? Did MM pull that out of her ass? Does one’s own reality shift completely when entering the realm of the Crazies? I don’t fucking know. What I do know is that if Mr. C. were to call the police, he could easily state I threatened him with physical injury, which could be considered terroristic, and quickly I could be handcuffed and taken to jail. Yeah, so what if I didn’t do a fucking thing wrong, I would still have to spend money to prove I was innocent and (money I do not have) and I could potentially come away with an arrest record, something I proudly can say I do not have. I have never had handcuffs utilized on me in that way!

So now my senses are alerted and I must go to one of my best friends and ask him for advice. Yes I have a lawyer for a close friend. He is literally the only one I know who is truly honest; otherwise we never would have become friends. But I hate asking him for advice, especially since I am a friend. Plus I know the advice I would give Mimi and me… Disassociate ourselves from these insane people in anyway we can. Unfortunately for the near future, we need the income the childcare brings in, so we are in quite the quandary. However, maybe because my senses are alerted, I can move in another direction with some stealth to avoid some psychotic trap he may cook up to sabotage my family. Yeah, I know mellow dramatic, but it sounded good. But really, I think this is a definite sign that caution must be taken with these folks.

So yet another chapter of strange tales from the burbs! HA!

Sorry, No Monkey News Today… Just The Crazies, Boardroom Tables and Lots of Commas and Parentheticals!

2005-06-11T09:15:00.000-04:00

Word Spelling, Grammar, and general proofing disclaimer… I did NO proofing on this entry, as I need to go and there is too much traffic around me to spend too much more time on this, lest I give myself away!

This week has been a frustrating week from a personal point of view, in so far as the financial punishment we took or rather chose not to take by merely forgoing a luxury item that today is not so much considered a luxury but a required item (I am making a clear distinction between a requirement and a need here). Mimi is working very hard to move from the sand to rock and me… well I am going to lay off being a whiney ass bitch for the moment.

Au contraire mon frere, that does not mean I am not going to bitch about something, just not about my sad state of affairs. However, regarding my state of affairs for one moment, I was apprised that maybe I am not being a whiney ass bitch because I am “a real person” with “real people” issues. Now that is cool, so thanks Brandy! You see much of the times, Mimi and I feel as if we are on this island, and everyone around us is doing so much better than us. So now at least I can point out to Mimi there is one other person who can relate!

Well on to other things here for a moment. Generally there is a single topic I hone in on, but I have several short topics (hopefully unless I begin to drone and ramble on about one thing) that I will hit. The first two I just find ridiculously humorous, and the third involves the Crazies. But let’s discuss (well I guess there is not much discussion, but I am not gonna fucking share because that is for windows users and left coasters [no offense you libs], and I do not want to tell you something as that is rude, so I will leave it at discuss) about commas and parenthesis, writing on tables, and Monkey News.

Now one of my favorite blogs is the Hot Librarian’s blog (this is besides Mimi’s blog of course) because I love her freakin stories. I mean, she has some fucked up shit that happens to her. But then again, what do you expect when you are a single chick living in California with a bunch of guys while going to what I suspect (I suspect because she only hints at it) is Berkley. That, in and of itself, is just asking for a bizarre life.

So I read her entry for the other day and found myself laughing aloud in the office. I love the way she writes and love her stories but some ass-hat (slightly less than an ass-clown) gave her shit because she writes wholly complicated multi subjected sentence and links them all together with commas, all the while making side comments via parenthesis (sound like anyone we know?). So she recognizes her grammar has a high suckage factor, although I do enjoy her sentence flow, but she ripped this guy a new one, and in quite the humorous way. So why do I mention this, well as I read the entry I realized one of the things I like about her style of writing is that from a structure perspective it is quite like mine. Now she is much better at the random use of hyperbole, similes and metaphors, but never the less, structurally we write in a similar manner. So I am not sure if you read my blog THL, but tell your grammatical correcting ass-hat he can kiss my ass too.

Next subject: A few months ago coming into work after a break, my peer tells me as we swap shifts that there has been a slight change on access to a conference room we use to meet with our people. Now look, this is getting really close to home so if there are any of my peers or management who have stumbled onto this blog and are reading the horrible shit I write about this pit of hell and the slave driving ass-clown non-leadership management fuckers that run this place, oh well. Mimi, I guess I will be jobless sooner than I expected. This policy comes form the idiotic and senseless, as if we were managing a daycare for adults. Some weeks ago, several folks from the management team had a big meeting and on the big conference table someone had felt it necessary prior to the managers meeting (prior; meaning probably over the past couple of weeks, and I opine this occurred during some training session held by another group who was allowed to use our conference room, but WTF does my opinion mean, right?) to write their name on this table with a blue pen.

Ok what a dumb ass thing to do. However, I maintain it most likely was not something one of our folks would do, because it is difficult to get the de-motivated staff to pay attention to the meeting in general, much less bring writing tools to our meetings. Sure it could have taken place during some other meeting with our group for some other issue, get together, or whatever. Regardless, I get in this one particular evening, and I am handed a key. That’s right, you know it, you won the $64,000 dollar question if you both asked and answered it, the key was for the conference room.

An email had been written and sent out to the entire staff, that writing had been found on our VERY expensive table (now that is not a joke, someone paid arms legs and a fucking torso for this table, if Mimi saw it her panties were she wearing any would get nice and moist and would want to use it regardless of who might be around. It is big and quite nice) and the room would now be locked and with the exception of management, one could only access the room under only the most strict guidelines, those of which I will not explain for reasons of extreme idiocy and brevity.

So now this conference room is locked up tighter than Fort Knox, I mean one would have an easier time enticing and corrupting a nun of the highest order before a “normal” person could gain access to this room. However, even with all the precautions, DNA sampling, retinal scans, polygraphs and body cavity searches, you would not believe what I found. So the other day we had a meeting and as I leaned back in my chair to stretch, since I was working on a half day (12 Hrs) at that point, I noticed under the lip of the table top on the recessed edge of the table someone else had written on the table. This time in large two inch letters spanning the height of the recessed edge. Well I am nobody’s fool I promise you. I saw that and thought to myself… “Hmmmm, should I alert someone to this newest instance of vandalism?” Well folks, I only thought about it for a few seconds before I came to the realization, that if I brought it to the attention of management I might well be assigned my own personal bottle of Lube since it is quite apparent neither my peers of I have not been doing our jobs policing the Boardroom Table Writing Bandit!. I have failed in such a woeful way for my management! What a fucking lousy employee, oh wait I am just a fucking contractor (That is what my manager said about contractors the other day, “Contractor Guy is not an employee he is just a contractor, so we should fire him for making that mistake, I said, Manager, I am a contractor…” WTF is that all about… DICK!).

Last order of business… Last evening Mimi and I had to go hit the Walmart (Yeah I know some of you guys have it out for Walmart… I am fucking lazy, I have no money and it is close to the house and dirt cheap to buy shit there… So I go to Walmart, you Walmart Haters) for a couple of things we needed. Well our conversation turned to the Crazies (I have talked about Mr. and Mrs. C, their children, Motormouth, The Bad Seed, Jeremy, and the Man baby… It is a marriage on the way to a horrible, horrible crash, and unfortunately we have let them into our lives to the point they are now intruding…). Mrs. C asked Mimi earlier in the day to intervene between her mother in-law (this was an effed up situation but thankfully nothing came if it) and her about an issue with the Man Baby (MB) should the mother in-law drop by. Mimi explained the situation never occurred, but this segued into another issue. When Mrs. C came to pick up MB, MB wanted a pair of my daughter’s shoes (I have mentioned this too, but refresher; MB likes to take my daughter’s shit in the afternoon as Mrs. C is taking her home, and asks Mimi if it is alright… sometime shit comes back, other times it does not. The issue is Mrs. C cannot be a grown up and a parent and tell the child NO, so she depends on one of us to be the fucking parent.) and so Mrs. C sits down on the couch with MB and starts putting the shoes on the child. Now these are my daughter’s shoes, and this woman is telling MB, “oh no these are Baby Mimi’s shoes, you cannot have these…” and apparently telling this child the same time over and over while she puts them on MB. Finally, she asks Mimi if it is alright if MB wears the shoes. Holy shit I am thinking, what is in this womans head besides stagnant air? This is just not right, I should shoot a laser pointer directly through her empty skull! So Mimi, takes MB and takes the shoes off the child with no fight, and hands MB back to Mrs. C who thanks Mimi, cause she did not want to make MB upset.

The night before, Mimi and Mrs. C talk and then it is related to me Mr. C was outside with MB (The rest of the brood is at their biological father’s place and then camp for the next few weeks, thus it is only Mr. & Mrs. C and MB.) and all of a sudden storms into the house, puts MB down somewhere and tells Mrs. C that MB is a brat just like the rest of her children. Well now I do not condone necessarily Mr. C calling his almost two year old daughter a brat… But he does have a point! Now I understand why the rest of her brood is the way they are and MB is already on that path!

Well, I have to go, have a great weekend, and maybe I will post something later this weekend. I am thinking I want to go to the library on Sunday, maybe Mimi can wear something conducive to some naughtiness.

Comment Whoring 101....

2005-06-10T06:22:00.000-04:00

I have over 270 hits on my site, and can count my comments over the past few months on probably one hand, maybe two hands. Seriously I am not comment whoring here, but I do need some help.

1. Any feed back on my ludicous boring insanely long entries really would be appreciated. Meaning - should I keep writing this schlock or should I aim for a pulitzer...

2. This is MOST IMPORTANT at least for the moment, in easy concise instructions can ANYONE tell me how to view what searches and other sites bring people to my site, if any?

3. I Am now going to "comment whore" for Mimi... She is getting lonely and wondering if people are really reading her blog...

Thanks for your comments!

And The Womping Continues... But I Have A New Friend, Ivan!

2005-06-10T06:20:00.000-04:00

What a sad state of affairs. I am half tempted to start begging, to use pay pal, to lose my mind. Yet another WOMPING we took today. As I closed my entry yesterday, looking for an answer on what the hell has happened to my family’s life and what it is that we have done that seems to permanently attract this fucking black cloud that hovers about us. I had no idea the beating I was going to take.

I arrived home to my happy family yesterday morning (seriously there is no sarcasm there) ate a meal, saw my wife and daughter, whereupon Mimi reminds me to call the appliance service folks to check the dishwasher. I find a same day place, they tell me they could only give me a window between 5PM and 8PM. Now look, I am not an idiot, this time slot is an invitation for someone to interrupt my dinner. I ask them if they are sure they could not send someone out earlier, they tell me no, and I tell them I will call someone else. So I go to the next full page ad for appliance service for same day services. The SAME people answered! I really did not have time to go through a number of listings talking to people, so I decided to see what these guys could do. I begin once again negotiating times with the lady. She tells me, that she could do something between noon and three. Of course this would fall right inline with nap time for the kids. So that was out of the question. I tried suggesting between 3PM and 6PM, but there was no having that by the lady on the other side, she said my only option was between 5PM and 8PM.

I went to sleep soon thereafter and slept an almost blissful sleep (my daughter was a bit fussy yesterday thus screaming periodically ensued). Mimi had to go get my son from a friend’s house and my wife, being the kind woman she is, took our daughter with her, but in trade she woke me up to listen out for the repair man. I woke up brushed my teeth, washed my face, came downstairs and grabbed a Diet Mountain Dew (all the caffeine and non of the calories… gotta love it!). Folks if you do not know already, I must warn you… DO NOT drink MD immediately after brushing your teeth. If you wanted to make some sort of novelty candy that tastes like out and out shit, that would be the flavor; Mountain Dew Peppermint Toothpaste Delight! What a fucking nasty taste, I have had to drink water from the swamps of Florida that tastes better than that combination.

I was able enjoy a few moments of utter silence in the house and then about fifteen minutes of news before my wife returned, but yet no repair man. Mimi had pretty much gotten everything for dinner together before leaving so she put the main entre into the oven and we waited to eat. Still no repair man. Upon completion of the main entre, the table was set, drinks prepared, salads and plates set out. Still no repair man. We all sat down to eat, got settled in, and WTF happens. I mean come on, I just could not fucking believe it. A knock on the door, and lo and behold fucking Ivan (yeah, the guy was Russian, I would rather personalize this a bit, so I have named the repair man Ivan) is standing at my door wanting to fix my dishwasher at just the exact moment I sit down and take my first bite of dinner.

So I let my new buddy in the house, and into my kitchen, and of course I could not leave him alone (not for any reason of insecurity, like he would steal my silver collection, but rather I want to know what the fuck is going on with my dishwasher). So he does a couple of preliminary things, and then takes the cover off the bottom, and fiddles around some more. After a few moments, I decided to let him alone because he was checking things out. I sit down, have another bit of my meal, and he calls me back into the kitchen.

Side Note:
Ok, so in the last few months, I have had to fix two major appliances for my house; the dryer and the lawn mower (yeah, well the lawn mower is close to an appliance and for conversation sake and in context it might as well be one, so chill!) and in both cases I was like Neo, flapping around dodging those bullets. Now that is not to say I did not catch a glancing round, but I was not hurt. The drier only ended up setting me back $50 dollars or so, where I had expected to have buy a new one. The lawn mower hurt a little more. It just so happens I had two lawn mowers, one which worked at one time but stopped. I got it tuned one summer, but the next it stopped working. I kept it because it was a pain in the ass to dispose of, the second one I bought new. The second one lasted me four years but was basically a cheap piece of shit. That was a direct quote from my small engine guy. We had to trash it cause to fix it would cost almost as much as a new one. Well I could not afford a few hundred bucks for a new lawn mower. I did however take the second one and for $65 dollars got that one fixed and now I am cool.

Side Note continued:
So as this whole dishwasher episode unfolded, I am thinking, ok… what’s this going to set me back? Being melodramatic in my post yesterday, I suggested a few hundred dollars. In actuality, I was thinking another $60 bucks hopefully but maybe only as much as $150.

My Story continued:
Fade back into the kitchen… And there I stand with Ivan looking under the hood of the dishwasher making noises. He gets up and says, “You need new dishwasher.” OK, buddy, like I can pull one of those outta my ass… In your home country that is like a present you give your wife or something, like I can just up and get a new dishwasher. So I talk to him some more, and he tells me the timer is AFU (all fucked up), he says to me, “New timer, that $190 dollars, but there is water leaking, you look.” So I get down on the floor and sure as shit, water is leaking, but not a lot. So being the brilliant person I am, I think to myself… a new time, how much could that cost, like $35 or $40 bucks… I can get that fixed, the water is leaking on the concrete, so I can deal with that a little longer… Ok, I will get the stupid knob and all changed for the time being and that should be cool. I mean the motor and pump are pretty expensive so yeah, that will jack the price up. I can save some up to get a new machine in a few months.

I look at my new buddy and say, “look, how about we just fix the timer and skip the other stuff and I will get a new machine later on.” Ivan looks at me and says, “Oh no, new timer is $190 dollar. You new both timer and pump, and pump is $200 dollars.” My new buddy has now pissed me off. He has told exactly what I did not want to hear. I asked him is there anything to do temporarily, he tells me no. I tell him fine, thanks, I will get a new machine.

There was another small episode over what he was charging me for coming out, but that really could be an entirely new story which I really am not going to go into as I have drug this post out to almost too many words even for my enjoyment.

So back to my initial issue, this black cloud. Well I guess I kept my head up too long today cause the great WOMPER in the sky WOMPED me like a gopher, but hard today. Now I have to come up with a new dishwasher. So in great despair, my wife and I will be hand washing dishes for some time to come. Do not pity or feel sorry, we will get through this, but I am starting to get sucked into this whole theory of Mimi’s that we did something just so fucked up our Karma has gone black and nothing good will ever happen to us again. I cannot believe that is true, but I have to be honest; I would rather be in the perfect Matrix right now. The world of perfect. I mean what idiot would not want a perfect stress free world or life. Yeah I guess it could get a bit boring, but in my perfect world, I would be hanging out on an island with clear blue water, golf courses, my family, drinks and food, no cholesterol or calories.

Well I know that shit ain’t happening cause we keep getting WOMPED by the great padded hammer in the sky. It pops us hard enough to knock us down, but not hard enough to keep us down. That hammer just wants to see how long it will take for us to give up and stay down.

I say to you, oh great padded gopher smacking hammer in the sky, FUCK YOU. I am going to grab you one of these days and break your plastic pleather padded ass in half. And then I will sit back and smoke out and be stress free, at least for a little while.

Getting WOMPED Like A Gopher...

2005-06-09T06:44:00.000-04:00

I do not watch a lot of television. I have one or two shows I prefer to watch on regular TV, but in general I stay away from network television and only watch commercial television for the news, and informational shows on channels like the Military, Discovery, and History channels and Animal Planet. When I watch TV, I generally watch movies. I prefer movies because I am not patient enough to sit through commercials, nor do I have the time generally if I want to watch some TV to sit and be told what I should buy.

There is one show I have grown quite fond of over the years, which has unfortunately been cancelled, Dead Like Me. For those of you not in the “know,” the show is about an 18 year old girl, Georgia (aka George) who dies by blunt force trauma from a toilet that came off the Mir space station upon reentering earths atmosphere (OK, so this toilet, an aluminum meteor-like ball of fire hurtled to earth in the exact spot George is standing, her last words… “Oh Shit,” she says with this look of unbelieving disgust, like “I am about to be blown up by a fucking toilet falling from the sky, what a sad pathetic way I am going to die… the chick blown up by a fucking toilet from space”). Upon her death she is visited upon by a reaper and finds out that she is to become a reaper as well, a Grim Reaper. The show is about how she copes with death, and the friendships and un-dead lives of her fellow reapers, while existing in the same city in which she grew up, while watching from a great distance her family as they cope with her death. I think, besides the incredibly dark humor of the show, I find it an endearing show because each episode has a meaning and sheds a pearl of thought provoking wisdom by episode’s end. Yeah I know… but I really do have sensitive side.

I bring DLM up, because I saw one of my favorite shows last night before coming into work. The issue before George was which is better, to be a nice person or not. At face value an easy question, but when you really stop to think about it, there are many facets to the question, to be nice or not? I would like to say something like ,”almost Shakespearean,” but I am not even in the same galaxy as that man. But the question is valid. From a religious or spiritual point of view, being a nice or good person is something we all strive for, but the question begs, who is it good for? Which was the basic question of the episode from DLM I watched? I mean you can be nice and get stomped on and hope karma takes care of you, or you can be an asshole, stomp the life out of everyone around you, be popular and get ahead!

Through out the show George was shown being mean and manipulative. Not understanding why she was being so, but by being so she was able to make people do what they were supposed to do, she was able to get her way and get things done. By the end of the episode, her lack of niceness lead, her to lose a potential boyfriend (which, being a reaper she is not supposed to have, but you would have to watch the show to understand that part). All through the episode, there were flashbacks to when George was a little girl and she was at a pool. She was at the pool and a friend who was a bit strange to George and the other little girls at the pool, but a friend never the less. At the beginning of the scene, George pushes Mary Beth into the pool to be cool, with the other little girls behind her laughing. However, by the end of the show, the tables turn, and Mary Beth turns on George, pushing George into the pool out of spite for the day of meanness from George. In an ironic twist, Mary Beth becomes the cool one, and George falls into the pool as all the girls laugh and accept Mary Beth into their group. Oh, the ruthlessness of children.

The pearl of wisdom was simple; at the end of the day you will be paid back in the same currency you dish out, being popular or doing things for yourself is ok, but in the end, karma comes back on you.

So you wonder what got into me to talk about karma and the whole thing about being nice? Well, I am afraid I was mean yesterday, and I unleashed on some people here at work. You may wonder, why would I do such a thing, well in fact I will tell you. I tired of waiting for karma. I am frustrated and I have very little wisdom to impart upon you who read this blog. I was thinking, maybe people want a pearl or two of wisdom from me, but I am quite sure that none of that is the case. There will be no Andy Griffith moments from me today folks. Nope, that just won’t happen, so get the fuck to your room Opey! But I did get pissed and I have set my karma back. WTF have I done.

I have asked myself of late where I have been cursed, what is it my wife and I did, to have to bear this cross we bear. Every time we think we get ahead, I feel like that fucking gopher that pops up out its hole and gets WOMPED right on the noggin! My wife was finally able to save a couple of bucks this month (at least so far). As it turns out, the effing dishwasher goes Tango Uniform, or that would be TU (still not registering, well don’t worry, that’s military speak for Tits Up). So now I have to call an appliance repair person to come fix the damn thing because Mimi doesn’t need to be washing dishes by hand with all the dishes we create and all the other shit she does. I mean we barely have time for her to participate in all my reindeer games (seriously no sarcasm there… I mean we flat out barely have time these days). Speaking of which, if you go to Mimi’s blog, she has a pretty fantastic list of places we have had sex. If there are any you find missing, please make suggestions, we are always looking for new adventure spots.

BTW honey, it just occurred to me you forgot about the walk way the other month where I thought we might have gotten caught!

So back to karma, and being nice… As it all comes together, I was in a foul mood yesterday, and I unleashed on a co-worker (he’s pretty much a pussy anyway – and I do not think it’s just because he is Canadian, so no offense Canada). He was not happy that he was going to have to work solo a couple of nights a week and did not want to do that since we added a new person to our organization. Me... I really could give a fuck, I prefer to be alone with this job. At any rate, he suggests that we all three discuss the shift schedule again. I shared with him (LOL, what a fucking pussy thing sharing is… No, I flat out told his ass) that I am not changing my shift, our management has fucked me enough, so if he wants to change something he would have to talk it over with the new guy and work it out with him. He tells me that I am part of the team and we need to work this out together. I had to inform him I keep getting fucked by the “TEAM” when I help out, so the team and management can fuck themselves. He can figure the shit out himself.

Ok, now look I recognize I am supposed to be a professional, but every time I ask for help it is like pulling teeth. I am stuck on this bullshit night shift and until I find something else, well I am stuck here. So I have stopped being cooperative. Prima donna Jay is coming out! So yes I am being mean, but I have no expectations of popularity here. I am in a shallow foxhole with limited cover and I am hunkering down popping up with some suppressing fire and waiting till I can move in for the kill.

Funny how things work out; prior to me coming in and losing my shit on my coworker, Mimi and I noticed a potential problem with the dishwasher. I fiddled with it some and miraculously, it began working. I fucking dodged another bullet! I came home late this morning because, of course, it was necessary to have yet another meeting and a hip pocket training session. Unfortunately the person giving the training didn’t know what the fuck she was doing and knew as much about the material as we did. So a 20 to 30 minute presentation took an hour and a half. Dumb-ass training person! I want to cal her something else, but she too, is a coworker, and I want to be a little nice. So I came home and guess what…. WOMP (I am a fucking gopher again)… Karma bent me over and rammed oh so hard! The dishwasher is truly fucked, so the money saved, is money spent to fix the dishwasher.

Unlike the Hot Librarian, I did not take a rock form some sacred mountain, and I have never given a double bird salute in church. Unlike the Girl With a One Track Mind, I never got busted masturbating by my folks with all my shit splayed out (that story cracked me the fuck up!). I did get busted by someone’s parent having sex with their daughter, but that was a really long time ago, and truly the statute of limitations, even for karma, has expired. My wife is a spiritual kind of woman, I know we do not go to church but we barely have enough time for each other and we really do try to get to church… So people I need some pointers. I need to get into the good graces of karma.

So without shaving my head, wearing a robe and giving out flowers, WTF can I do. I am looking for pointers. I am tired of getting womped like that poor fucking gopher!

A Short Rambling Diatribe... Hell, does this even make sense?

2005-06-08T08:24:00.000-04:00

Have you ever been in a situation where you are at work, and there is something you should be doing. Something that is so critical that you really need to do it, yet you just don’t feel like doing it? Well I am having one of those nights. There are some things I really need to be doing so I know how to react should something happen that I have to report on… But you know what? I just don’t give a fuck. Now I have been the industry I am in for over 15 years. I believe I am a near senior type of person in this field and it is really very sad when a person in their field becomes so fucking apathetic. But that is just where I am at the moment!

My wife and I were discussing general tuff the other day or maybe today. At this point things blur together because I cannot keep track of days and nights and breakfasts and dinners and such things. However now that I concentrating, I think our conversation about this happened today. Once again, I digress… SO my wife and I were discussing a couple of interviews I have had and some things I am working on, and she told me that she has never seen me like this before.

You see, I am expecting to speak with some of my upper management today because I missed some training on one of my days off, the other day. I expect this because they expected me to be there, but you know what? I had shit to do. I had a doctor appointment, had a lawn to maintain, and some time to spend with my kids and wife. Unfortunately, my management doesn’t care about those things, sort of how they wish not to pay me when I do attend this shit. I think that is another reason I avoid post forty hour meetings and training sessions. My management somehow has it in their fucking minds that I should not bill them for this time. I mean, holy shit, like I am some fucking whore that wants to give freebies and samples. I charge them anyway and never hear anything after the fact, but every once in a while I get called on the carpet and asked why I am billing and that I am a professional and should be showing them some kind of fucking courtesy. WTF is that all about? I mean I get no vacation, sick time, and pay for my own benefits and they want extra time out of me? Like asking a hit man to cap a mark and then hit the wife for free. Folks it ain’t happening, I get paid by the hit and there are no freebies.

So yes, I have become apathetic to this whole situation. Mimi commented on how I was all about the company, and how I work tireless hours, and made things happen, fight all the fights that needed to be fought, and so on and so on. Now I could give a shit. I am not even sure if I care about getting fired. I mean, I know I do not want to get fired or lose my job. But at the same time, I have to think to myself, what a relief it would be. I know from a financial situation I could crash and burn, and that would be bad for my family. And that my friends, is what keeps me going. Nothing else, just maintaining things for my family until I can get out from this fucking rock.

So enough with all the bitching and griping, I am sounding like Anakin/Luke Skywalker… A whiny ass bitch once again. So if you take a look at my wife’s blog you will see we had an interesting weekend. Now if you do check the entry out about our weekend, you will find I am lacking in the foreplay department, which I do need to get better at, I have had that problem for some many years. I know why I am not good in that department (something I will take offline) but just one of those issues I know I need to improve upon. So for you couple of readers, make sure you give your wife some good foreplay, they really do need it.

So to wrap up the weekend, besides missing some CRITICAL training, it was pretty decent. Saw The Longest Yard (the original and the remake both had great qualities, and both are funny in their own rite), had some interesting public sex in a deserted parking garage (damn that rain, the plan had been to take her to the top deck), good hot tub sex (I finally figured out how to unlock that fucking control pad), assisted my son in getting enough trade in stuff together plus other monies he has to get himself a PSP, played with my little girl and mowed and manicured the lawn. A pretty decent weekend after all is said and done.

Work now calls, so I now have to deal with the bullshit this place dishes out.

* My Favorite Porn Star!

2005-06-04T09:09:00.000-04:00

DISCLAIMER: I wrote this in haste and with many interruptions. I hope my spelling, grammar and tenses are correct. I proofed it quickly. So don’t deduct points for any of that bullshit, enjoy the content!

Now that I have labored through a healthy helping of humble pie, something I desperately wanted to take care of yesterday I want to move to other topics. However before I do so…

(Wait… as I am typing, the song Rio by Duran Duran, rolls off my WinAmp player.And every time I hear this song, it reminds me of a book I once read and have read several times since… A Brave New World, by Aldus Huxley. I recall reading this book while listening to the Rio album and for some reason it seemed to me that the album fit exactly into the background of the book like a soundtrack for the book. So give it a read with Duran Duran in the background and let me know what you think. But even if you do not listen to this album, read the book, it is a great story.)

I tend to digress quite a bit, huh? So I had planned to post something yesterday but my work/job got in the fucking way! I could not believe this shit. I was on the phone from the time I walked in till an hour before I left. I hesitate to tell the laborious story as it is just another example of Corporate America bullshit. Let me see if I can quickly summarize in my colorful fashion.

Client has a problem, I engage all my folks, and engage my European counterparts, and the issue is being worked. After many hours of labor, new parts are delivered after much bullshitting by yours truly and the original problem was fixed. However after finally getting in touch with the client and notifying them every half hour for almost 10 hours, we find out that an alternate solution was available so the work that was done over the night was done in an unnecessary and hasty manner. You ask how could something like this happen? Well because there was NO Fucking documentation. Thus NOONE (mainly the Europeans who have managed these people for some time) knew jack shit, not Jack Schitt, the guy and all his fucking cousins like Bull Schitt, I mean just plain fucking jack shit, like not a fucking thing did they know. So instead of posting I was tied up actually having to work. Yes, I agree a sad state of affairs.

So I am not sure if you read my wife’s latest post, but I did, and it got me pretty excited. OK, excited doesn’t describe it, I got hard reading it. Mimi can write some porn! I have written some in the past so if I get some requests I might post, as I will try to post some more of Mimi too! Digressing again, I was thinking of posting a close-up of one of her nipples for her profile pic, what do you think? Not sure what she thinks yet, but what would you all like to see for her profile pic?

So at any rate, she has posted something steamy once again, and we have not been able to go out in a while, so I have no adventure activity to post, but we did have an interesting experience the other day. I held something back from Mimi of the episode, just so I could write about it. Of this episode, there will be something she will only know about upon reading this post.

So here is the deal… It was to be my first day back to this fucking job after about four days off, and the boy was gone to a friend’s house and the daughter was sleeping. Mimi was wearing some of her short low-rise MILF shorts and a tank top. She was looking quite sexy. So I am sitting on the couch in our living room where it is nice and quiet. She came and sat down beside me and before long conversation turned to sex and then some kissing and then a preparatory bow job. She sat on top of me at first and as we were kissing her top came off and then some pinching of the nipples. She likes intense pinching, pulling and nipple rolling as well as sucking and some light biting. After playing with her breasts and nipples she moved down between my legs, unbuttoned, unzipped and removed my short, where upon she began with one of her famous porn blow jobs. She sucks and lubes and deep throats, and works my cock; it is amazing to watch and feel her work and she does it quite well.

Oh and I should mention, the Sofa and this whole episode takes place in our living room, which I have mentioned before that looks out a large bay window and down across our lawn to the street and a number of our neighbor’s houses. So after preparing my cock, she stands up moving towards the window facing out, already topless, and slowly removes her shorts (several cars pass by oblivious to the nakedness of my wife), and once completely naked she removes a vase on the coffee table and starts to get on it facing the window. I however, ask her to move over to the chair adjacent to the window, sit on the arm, and prop one leg up on the window sill. So she complies with a bit of a curious look and I ask her to start masturbating. She has a nicely coiffed pussy, a light patch above her diminutive lips and shaven everywhere else.

She began to masturbate, closing her eyes, using one hand to stimulate her clit and the other hand to push her fingers up inside her tight and swollen pussy. I sat on the sofa for a bit watching her, and stroked myself. Several cars drove by, but Mimi was into her masturbatory session and she seemed not to care much about the potential audience. After a sometime of Mimi loving herself, she lain back across the chair and I came over to her, stroking myself in her face which turns her on with the anticipation of me cumming on her breasts and face. I knew I would not be able to hold out much longer so I stopped stroking and she moved to the place she had originally wanted to be fucked, that being the coffee table.

Mimi got up on the coffee table with her ass in the air facing the windows and outdoors. I entered her from behind. Her pussy was very swollen and slick with her wetness. I moved my cock in her slowly, pulling it out and then pushing it back in several times. I pulled my cock out and teased her clit and ran the head of my cock between her slit, and then pushed it back deep inside her. I began moving my cock in and out of her watching her move back and forth against me as she massaged her clit bringing her closer to orgasm. As we were so engaged, a number of cars passed the house completely oblivious to our activities even though, had they just turned their heads, they would have seen Mimi’s beasts moving back and fort and me standing behind her pumping my cock into her from behind.

Now the part she did not know, that I held back just for the blog. As you may have noticed from previous posts, we are somewhat exhibitionists, and would not do such things if we were worried we might be caught or seen having sex. Mimi has taken many picks out doors and in public, admittedly at my behest, but never the less she does do it willingly and with at least some enjoyment if not great enjoyment. So as I was moving in and out and as she was coming closer to climax and as I concentrated quite hard not to cum during all of this, a pickup truck pulls around the corner (our house is situated in this partial cul-de-sac with a turn down our street, sort of like an elbow with a bulge in it as the road bends around our property). As it is rounding the corner, the truck stops momentarily and the guys in the cab are staring into our living room watching me fuck my wife. They stopped only for a moment and drove on(My guess is that they stopped until they noticed me notice them, I would have kept going and left them watch if they wanted), but at that moment, I could feel and hear Mimi coming to orgasm, and I could feel her pussy clenching against my cock, which brought me to climax allowing me to fuck her harder bringing her to orgasm as well.

So we cleaned up since we were downstairs, sat and talked for a few moments more, and then I went to sleep in preparation for work.

So Mimi, that is what occurred. I did not recognize the truck from the neighborhood, but I thought you might like to know about that. You are definitely my favorite porn star!

Of Humble Apologies and Uncontested Divorces...

2005-06-04T05:42:00.000-04:00

One thing I pride myself on, is that when I am wrong (which I believe is a rare occasion), I am man enough to buck up and make amends apologize and take a hit if need be. Well it appears one of those rare occasions have arisen, and I must take a hit. I went on a voracious rant the other night and part of it was directed towards someone who reads this blog. Some how I misread, misconstrued, misinterpreted, just down right missed the point of this anonymous readers comment. Something that was not directed at the state of my marriage and my wife , but which I read in a negative way, probably due to my state of mind at the time, and I lit out for blood.

For those of you who do not read this blog on a regular basis which is probably everyone, I have since removed the post because it included a pic of my wife, Mimi wearing little more than a thong and a top. However, the pic was entirely too big and I was forced to remove it since it shifted my entire template and I have not figured out the effing HTML for this template enough to make it dynamic.

Thankfully, this anonymous reader fessed-up to being the ass clown to whom I referred in my post and made explanation for his comment.

So for benefit of all my readers (both of you), my apologies and to my anonymous reader who is in fact having marital issues… things will work out one way or another. BTW, Mr. Anonymous I have officially stripped you of the title of “ass clown” and in some way feel compelled to take it, but since this is my blog I will just put the title to the side and wait for another unassuming individual who really is an ass clown to assume the title. At least more than I apparently am at the moment.

I can attest to this (this being, things will work out) because I am in my second and last marriage. I say my last because, God forbid if anything happens to my current marriage, I will only scope out 18 yr old hotties and become the proverbial Dirty Old Man, cause if I can’t make a second marriage work, I am hopeless! But this is not expected to happen, as I simply want to be a pervert, forcing my current wife to engage in my debauchery and nothing more. So no Dirty Old Man things for me! But I digress… So my first marriage was an abortion and a shambles, it never should have been. I could go on and on about what happened, why it happened, etc… but it is a waste of time. On a positive note I did receive one thing out of the almost sexless journey of six years and that would be my son, who I promise you all without jest is a miracle. No, he is healthy and all that, but his conception was simply a miracle, and yes I know you may now be thinking, oh there were conception problems? But no, I hate to disappoint you, of fertility issues there were none; she was so fertile she could drink cum and get pregnant, that is if she were to ever blow anyone. No the fact was sadly, she refused to have sex most of the time but this one particular time in a drunken haze, when we were actually able to conceived my son.

Yet I digress once again! My point within all this diatribe, is I did meet Mimi after an exhaustive search and we have been together for over seven years and will be married for five later this summer. So for you Anonymous and all others experiencing marital problems on the brink of complete collapse, once you get through the initial bitterness and general fall out from the bullshit of your ex or soon to be ex-spouse, things will fall into place.

However, I have one piece of advice for all of you who are in the middle of an implosion of marital bliss. I promise you all, the best way to get divorced is to work it out yourselves. I do not care what you do, but you MUST convince your other half that an uncontested divorce is the ONLY way to go. These go for about $500 or so. But you can only do this if you have everything worked out in a separation agreement. You can create an equitable separation agreement, let any lawyer look at it for about a $100 or so, and then take it to your Uncontested Divorce Attorney who will advise you both and finalize everything. They put the divorce together and you file it. This includes the kids. You can have kids in this type of divorce and as long as you both agree to custody and visitation, you can get it done for a small sum of money.

I implore you to look into this, and DO NOT spend money on the money grubbing lawyers. They will goad you both into doing this or that which will piss the other off and you will up the guns like a domestic cold war, but ultimately it will end with mutual destruction of your emotions, your current finances and your financial future. The key thing to remember is EVERYONE loses in divorce; you, your spouse, kids and your bank account! Well everyone loses except your lawyers who I swear to you are laughing right to the bank. They do not care about you no matter what they say. They are lawyers not for any noble reason, but they are lawyers to make lots of money at your expense!

I took the non-contested way out and my ex and I both got out without a big fight and we remain pretty civil today.

Ass Clowns and Bad Guys...

2005-06-02T05:01:00.000-04:00

DISCLAIMER: I have not posted anything substantial for several days and I am generally pissed I have to work tonight. Yes I recognize I work at night, but the fact I work at night in general simply pisses me off!

You know… I read a number of different blogs, and admittedly I rarely make comments on any of them. However, from time to time I will make a comment, but I will do so only after two conditions have been met:

1. I am familiar with the material in the blog, meaning I have probably read a GREAT MAJORITY of the blog and pretty familiar with that which is currently transpiring and that which has transpired in the past.
2. My comments are either supportive or generally positive

I also understand these blogs are public and ANYONE can read ANYTHING you publish and if you are up for comments, you are allowing ANYONE to comment about ANYTHING you write. With that said, I shall start on my rant…

WTF is in someone’s head to make a comment without any fucking clue as to the current situation or at least without reading some of the blog to understand what is happening with the author’s life or situation? I ask this question because I got a comment from some ass-clown regarding a pic of Mimi I posted. I have since removed the pic, but it pisses me off I did because I removed the entire post due to functionality issues and not this ass-clown’s comment (for those interested, I have to resize the pics because they screw up my margins and I have not figured out the code to make things more dynamic, otherwise I would have left everything up, so fuck you ass-clown)

So I get online tonight check out my blog for any comments and sure enough I got one of Mimi in one of her thongs (a pic from the side with not much visible, more a conceptual pic). I check out the comment and some ass-clown has made a comment about how he could not come home to that in the evening and no wonder there were marital problems.

Ok… So first, Mimi and I have posted pics on certain websites and have always gotten positive comments. As with about anyone, there are always ass-clowns who make negative comments about pretty much anything and anyone. So as a comment to the pic itself, oh well… more than likely the ass-clown I am discussing has a battle-axe for a spouse or girlfriend, who would never take a pic like that cause they would break the fucking camera or because they have too many hang-ups to get in front of the camera to break it in the first place! But each to his/her own.

So what really pissed me off was the whole thing about my marriage. Ummmm… ok, I am not sure when I said anything about having a bad marriage or even issues with my marriage. I do not know where on Mimi’s blog that she has alluded to such issues either. Although I would never speak for my wife, I am sure she would agree that our marriage and relationship is pretty fucking strong. So I want to know what the fuck is up with this ass clown and his dumb ass comment. Why am I making a big deal about it, hell I do not even care about his comment in general, but what pisses me the fuck off is this ass clown comes on my blog makes a comment and doesn’t have the nads to leave a name or anything and he makes his silly ass comment without reading about those things I wrote, where he would discover that I have a pretty fucking tight relationship with my wife. All the while all around me people’s marriages are falling to shit or they don’t have a relationship with their kids. SO my point is, if this ass clown had read my entire blog and had a fucking clue, then I wouldn’t have given two shits about his comment because his comment wouldn’t have gone any further than making a negative comment about my wife.

SO I am not getting defensive or trying to make comment on my marriage, my statement here is know what the fuck you are talking about before leaving some ass-hat comment. If you don’t like what the fuck you see, keep on going. As I have already stated, I have learned those who make negative comment couldn’t even begin to enjoy those things they are commenting on in a negative way. Sort of like how France has all these side deals to make them more powerful because deep down Napolean is still at the heart of that fucked up country. SO as they try to compete with America because they are truly jealous of what we have built in our country, they bad mouth the US while at heart theya re a bunch of spineless frogs! (Wow, I do not know where that came from, jumped out of me from nowhere) So I guess I am equating this ass clown to France. How apropos.

So while I am talking about marriages in general, the Crazies are as Crazy as ever… Thankfully Mimi has a two week hiatus from their older ones as they are spending the next week and a half with their father and have been in another state for the past few days. So Mimi only has to deal with the Man-baby, which is an issue from time to time.

Mrs.C really needs to learn about parenting. An example, her youngest son, The Bad Seed (TBS), began attending an after school program and now a day camp, because Mimi cannot manage this child. My wife is a good sitter and care taker. She can deal with anyone including our son who can be a handful. TBS on the other hand was kicked out of one church program, two schools including kindergarten. By the time Mimi had given up on this child he had bashed in an electrical box on the side of someone’s house requiring the electric company to fix. And shortly after that incident, took his scooter and swung it many time bashing a neighbors satellite dish. After this, we told Mrs. C, she had to do something else with the child. Now bearing in mind children do not always act alone, my son had blame in other issues, but the last two that broke the camel’s back did not involve my son except as a bystander telling the child to stop what he was doing.

Fortunately Mrs.C has great wisdom and realized her child was being negatively influenced by the older boys i.e. The rest of the boys in the neighborhood with the exception of one or two. In her great wisdom she opined that the older boys are manipulating TBS and getting him to do these horrible things including swear words that not even my son has heard from anyone’s mouth but TBS’s mouth. Then let’s not forget the how flipping the bird has become something of a cute idiosyncrasy that is passed up with a snicker by Mrs.C. Other cute activities this child enjoys is jumping out in front of moving cars in the neighborhood. One day a car is going to take this child out. This is the kind of child this woman has raised and I jest or exaggerate not!

Now her youngest, the Man-baby (MB) is sauntering down the same trail as the snotty Motormouth and TBS. I want to like this child, but I cannot. I just cannot. So, most mornings MB is brought over clinching some item. Could be some car keys, could be her toy du jour, could be a medicine bottle or could be a fucking tampon. That’s right ladies and gentlemen… a fucking tampon, Mrs. C let MB bring over a fucking tampon. Now, being relatively sane and intelligent folks, you may ask… so why did Mrs. C let MB bring over a tampon? I think this is a valid question, but the answer, well it ranks up there with the whole deal about TBS playing with older kids forcing him to destroy neighbors property… Mrs. C does not want MB to cry or think she is MEAN, so she doesn’t take these things away. Yet, Mrs. C brings MB over and lets Mimi take them away from her since the first thing Mimi does is feed this child breakfast and there is really no need for the child to have a tampon in hand while she is eating.

So why do I bring this up, besides the thought of ass clowns? Because the other day, actually a couple of weeks now, Mrs. C was getting MB and upon exiting our abode, MB likes to take things from my daughter and carry them home. Most of the items are taken unbeknownst to my daughter. I believe we get most of the stuff back, but this particular day I was in a cranky mood as having been waken up by the two little hellions and MB wants to take something home and my daughter is not happy about it. SO I get into the melee and take the item from MB who loses her shit. Mrs. C tells me thanks, now she does not have to be the bad guy.

OK, so you cannot fucking parent, I have to do it for you because you couldn’t set a boundary if the world was flat and the edge was a bottomless fucking pit. You would find a way that MB could play in the middle of nowhere over the edge of the world. With the exception of Jeremy (who I am sure is poised to break at any moment and you will hear about him on national news) all these children are the most spoiled pampered, inconsiderate, and self involved children and this poor baby, MB, is on her way to be like the rest of the brood. I guess it was wrong of me on several occasion to insinuate to Mrs. C she was a shitty Mom, but maybe I need to be the bad guy and explain to her what the fuck parenting is all about!

Comments Anyone?

2005-05-30T20:37:00.000-04:00

I was trying to figure out how to set this up to track what searches and such led to my blog, if any. SO I was going through my setups and came across the comment section, and what did I find out?

Some how, some way, the settings for comments was for only those who are registered!

Ironically, I never set a reader registration up, therefore NO ONE could post any comments, that is assuming (we ALL know what ASS/U/ME ing does) any one wanted to comment to any of my posts in the first place.

I am not whoring for comments, just informing you that if you wanted to post a comment, you shoudl be able to now, as I have set commenting up for "ANYONE."

So rip away if you want, or just post your thoughts.

Jay

Can Viagra Cause Blindness?

2005-05-28T09:01:00.000-04:00

Q: Can Viagra Cause Blindness?

A: Only if you jerk off with prolonged erections lasting four hours on a daily basis... well maybe, but do you get hairy palms too?

Fox News has a story titled: Can Viagra Cause Blindness?

You just gotta love the FDA and concerned Doctors and Citizens!

Lions, Green Lights and A Suburban Desert Oasis

2005-05-28T09:00:00.000-04:00

I am going to date myself, although I do not recall, my mother tells me she was quite excited about Sesame Street when it first came out. I was about one year old when SS was first aired. I know I liked watching it, and there were a couple of things I particularly enjoyed. One of those was the part where they do “Which One of These Things Is Not Like the Other,” song. I recall I would get totally into the whole thing picking out the thing that did not belong.

I live in a nice little neighborhood and it is the epitome of suburban America. Our floor plan is one of about five different plans in the neighborhood, so without too much elaboration, all the houses look alike. If one of my neighbors were totally lit, I could not get pissed (well I could and probably would, but this is an analogy) if they walked in on Mimi and I getting it on in the living room one night because one house looks almost like the other. So you, who live in suburban America, know what I am talking about. You also know, that most builders only provide you a few designs because that makes it cheaper to build. And… most neighborhoods like mine have covenants that prevent people from building a house that does not look the same. This is a good thing because we do not want someone to build a $700k next to your modest $150k house. I have learned there are several neighborhoods in the area that just must not have such covenant clauses.

Thankfully, Mimi had simmered down from an issue we had this morning. Normally I wouldn’t mention this, but she has mad a blog entry bitching about this issue. In general, I will only say, there are two sides and I am not getting into a pissing contest with my wife, especially lobbing shit across blogs. So the point is, by having some time and by writing down her frustrations, she was my happy glowing wife again upon waking from my crappy daytime slumber. And being in a good mood we talked about a number of things while she finished preparing dinner.

The one thing she did touch on was how our son went to a friend’s house for an end of the school year party. She took our son over and the house was just awful she told me. It was plain ugly. The house stucco as well, but that is another issue. So how ugly could this house be? Well, she was going on about the gaudiness of the house in general, and she kept on about the lions when you drove into the driveway. Now me being a guy, I am thinking, so these people may be a bit ostentatious, but how ugly could this house be? Our son has another friend who lives in the same neighborhood and he lives in a house that is also just a bit ostentatious. The thing about that house is as you look around the neighborhood, one can see it does not belong. It too, is a stucco house that is built in an art deco manner, and truly should have been built in Miami. More so, what I found I did not like about the house is that it is built in a very cheap manner. Meaning where your columns should have been built with concrete or thick wood and filled with concrete, they are made of flimsy wood. Tapping the columns they sound cheap and hollow. But hey… who am I to talk, I have a much less expansive house than this particular house.

Since Mimi took our son to the party, I went to pick him up. She explained it was down the street from Sean’s house, and I went straight to the mark. Mimi did not bullshit me on this one! From down the street (bear in mind it is quite dark) I saw these green lights hovering in the darkness, as I got closer I saw these lights were mounted on pillars on either side of this wide driveway. As I got up on top of the driveway, in the glow of green lights what did I see? LIONS!. I am like holy shit, WTF is this all about, I peer down across the string lighted fountain in the middle of the circular driveway and perched at the steps of this place were two more lions and at the door guarding either side of the door were two more lions. I found myself in disbelief. Sesame Street came back to me, how could this shit happen? I mean I drove in and saw all these nice brick traditional houses and here I am driving up on this monster house made of PINK stucco with green lights in the driveway, string light circling this pond and LIONS! I am thinking I would have something done to these people by the association or I would have created some group to do annoying things to these people to make them leave or something, this house is just not right AND IT DOES NOT BELONG!

So from the outside, this pink monstrosity is huge. It is three stories, and has I swear looking from the outside a 90 foot ceiling in the foyer. Please understand if I were in some neighborhood in Florida surrounded by million dollar pastel homes, I don’t think I would have thought twice about this house, but a 90 ceiling foyer in a neighborhood that is mainly comprised of five or six bedroom brick houses is just freakishly wrong. Instead of going to the door, I heard the kids in back, and proceeded around the house and down a slope where I found the kids in a swimming pool and what I swear is a re-creation of a backyard owned by a wealthy Arab in Saudi Arabia.

It is hard to describe this unless you have seen something like this in person or in pictures, but they had desert palms planted around this pool with an attached spa, a waterfall, and a spillover for the pool water which is designed like a waterfall as well. There was an elaborate outdoor sitting area with fans and a huge outdoor kitchen and grill all covered and painted white. The tiling and design and decoration, yes more fucking lions, gave this feeling as if one could have been in the effing desert, even though there are pine trees all around.

My son got his stuff together and we left after thanking his host and hostess. Driving home, my son says to me, “Dad, do you think that house was ugly? Mom said it was…?” I had a hard time with this because yeah this house is fugly, but do I tell my son, hey your buddy’s house is fugly? I told him, “yeah… your mom thinks so, and I would agree because I just don’t think it belongs.”

Cross your fingers for a long and boring and uneventful night tonight!

2005-05-27T07:06:00.000-04:00

Ok… Fuck it! I was going to write another tirade interlaced with my whiny bitch personality. It has been a long night. I am dealing with uncompromising machines, software and people fucking shit up. So I have been on the phone all night, and have not been able to work on my post.

Well that is not entirely true. I went on a tirade about my freaking 6000+ emails in my in-box and how much email this idiotic place creates. Hell I could go through the Amazon jungle if I printed the email this place produces! And I wrote about some more dick measuring, and I started on Mr. & Mrs. Crazy, because as Mimi knows, I just cannot let them go. I think I may throw a glass at someone now!

OK, so I deleted everything. I kept getting interrupted. My work life keeps intruding upon my blog life. It pisses me off, I don’t really want to work. I digress… so I deleted everything I was writing because I lost steam.

Therefore… This is my entry today. Not exciting (well I guess I ramble anyway), not spiffy or even humorous, but this is what I have today.

Let us hope my night tonight will be long and boring and uneventful.

Of Quiet Time and Adulthood....

2005-05-26T03:09:00.000-04:00

If only I could be in elementary school. I remember coming back from lunch and having “Quiet Time” where we could read or put our heads on our desks and not so much sleep, but at least close our eyes for a few moments. At the time I thought that was really stupid. Hell I could have been using that time on the play ground.

At this very moment, I long for those days. I swear if I knew then what I know now, I would cherish every minute of every day of childhood. I would have the best fucking time a kid could have. I would even be a really, really good kid as a matter of fact. No lighting matches in the guys boat down the street. We used the boat to hide in, catching it on fire was simply a by-product of our fucking up, I swear! I still would have shouted out loud “Vagina Avenue” as my game piece hit that wonderful piece of property and I still would have gotten kicked out my buddy’s house (his mom did not appreciate my off color humor) for the day, BUT I would not have been pissed about it! I would have busted up even more bikes and built bigger ramps, and played football harder.

Right now, I need to have a “Quiet Time” I need to be somewhere else. I love my son to death, and I try so very hard to tell him to enjoy his childhood. I think he does for the most part, as much as any child. I just wish he could enjoy it to all its potential. I think it is a cruel joke played upon us that we live in such angst as children just to grow up to deal with the bullshit adulthood throws at you.

Unless you are one of those chosen who has not sold their souls to the devil (I believe in someway most actor, celebrities, etc… have compromised their person, their faith or some part of their self respect to get where they are) and have done well for themselves without compromising their “self” then adulthood pretty much sucks. I mean, the moments that are great, when you marry that truly special woman or man, or each time you become a parent, or when your children hit those special marks in life, or when you and your family catch one of those breaks or windfalls, I think those make the rest of the out and out suckiness worth while. And I also think those are the moments that you remember through out your life that blanket out the rest of the suckiness. Its just that you have to slog through all of the sucky bullshit to tag those great moments. Fuck that, I want the Matrix to be perfect. I could live where everything is good all the time, where there was happiness and piece all the time, where we do not have to slog through the bullshit. I truly resent having to live like we all do!

Because really, unless you made some good moves in your early 20’s (and didn’t serve in the military and then go to college, putting oneself four or more years behind your peers), and you had some financial success (like not getting a divorce early on and selling all the stock in the world, or losing it outright, or not listening to your dad and not buying a house in one’s twenties), or any of the other bullshit that happens to “normal” middleclass America, then your life revolves around paying the bills, keeping them up to date, and eking out some sort of savings. Now you could be like those others who have a double income, and send their kids to daycare, see them for about 3 hours at night, unless you have to split up and take one to soccer and the other to baseball or football or some such sport, then all get home at 8PM, eat a take out pizza, and everyone goes to bed, hoping the kids finished homework at daycare, because if not, the kids are going to be up till 10 finishing homework and waking up exhausted the next day just to go through the mill once again. If that is how you live, I do not know which is worse, slugging out in the trenches to buy groceries each week, or collecting shit material things and never really spending time as a family.

Such a bleak view on life I have right now… You know why? I want some quiet time. I want to lay my head down for a while, I want to have no responsibility. I want to be Peter Gibbons (post hypnosis). I want to get off the world for a few moments, fuck… I want to be in Jamaica, lying on a chase lounge with my naked Mimi lying next to me (notice I am not naked – I think that would not be allowed anywhere, I simply enjoy watching her tan like that), drinking fruity drinks with umbrellas and not having to worry about a fucking thing. It pisses me off, I saw my daughter for 15 minutes today and have not seen my son since Tuesday evening, and won’t see him till tomorrow morning (school is now out, but if school were in, it would not be till tomorrow night I would see him), actually it is this morning since we have broken ground on a new day. I saw Mimi for as much and maybe less time than my daughter. WTF is this shit. This happens every week when I transition from a diurnal schedule to a vampiric nocturnal schedule.

Never the less I want a fucking break. Yes I know I sound like some whiny bitch. I just think being an adult sucks. I want to tell my son that, but then again, I do not want him to be scared of the world and have him camping out in my house at 34, playing Halo 15 working at the video store, and no hopes for a woman because he is too scared to become an adult. Of course I would have kicked his ass out many years before because I still wanna get the funk on with momma, and I know that it would be difficult doing that with your adult son living at home.

So to sum up this horribly depressing entry… I think it is just that I am tired at the moment and a bit cranky. I got used to sleeping with my wife and waking up in the morning, coming home to my family in the evening and spending time with them all. I know, a lot to fucking ask for in life! (Shut the fuck up you whiny ass bitch!)So now I am in a period of readjustment both physically and psychologically. Damn these night shifts. Well, as the coming weeks roll on, my hope is there may be change on the horizon. Not great change, but change none the less, that might improve things to some extent. So I guess I shall see soon enough.

Maybe later I will talk about my friends across the street. The Crazies. That is it! I have stumbled upon their Blog name! Fuckin A! So there is Mr and Mrs. Crazy, who have Motormouth, Badseed, and of course Man-baby. Well they also have Jeremy, but he is generally quiet (you know what they say about those quiet kids, and he is like a pressure cooker waiting to go off, I swear he is) and lives somewhere else most of the time. I seem to have become suddenly motivated, as if I have broken through to the other side!

Catching Up With Jay...

2005-05-25T02:31:00.000-04:00

Ok… So, where do I start? It has been almost a week since I last posted and several days before that post since I made a previous post to the last post! Did that make sense? It did to me. So the plain truth of it is, I have been busy. Strait out busy to the point by the time my day ended, the last thing I wanted to do is look at a blinding pixilated screen searing the inner cones of my eye even more that they already after log 11 hour days staring into PC screens.

Yeah, a short entry would have sufficed, but you know, all the fucking comments I get… who gives a shit, right? Ok so for the moment I am her for me. I am back on my regular shift which totally sucks ass, or nuts? I think in this case, nuts, big fucking bear nuts does this suck! I feel like my eyelids are coated with coarse sandpaper and every time I blink, I shave another millimeter away from my pupil.

So if you have been checking in, reading in general or whatever, you will know I was working five day shifts. I clocked some good OT, and got some decent normal diurnal cycle sleep. The other pros to this was that I got to have the pervious Saturday afternoon (although I did take about 4 hrs to sleep upon coming home) through Tuesday off, returning to work on Wednesday morning. I was able to spend time with the family, do some yard work, take the mower in for repairs, and enjoy some decent time off. I even made some job contacts and have a few things in the works. The cons to the whole day shift thing is… we had a shitstorm of activity each day and basically spent time on the phone for all those days trying to clean up shit that really should have been taken care of months ago, but which got high visibility because people are now talking about contracts and money. So the end all, is that I stayed busy form the moment I came in, till the time I left which was at least one hour later than my scheduled time. Not that I am complaining, because I made some pretty decent extra money, but I came home later and had less time at home that I normally would have, and blah, blah blah. The biggest benefit to that was, I Missed Crazy Neighbor T and her Daughter Motormouth, and the man-baby. Trust me, missing those people is a HUGE pro to working days.

So here I am back at work on the night shift getting used to being a vampire once again. As I worked all the way through Sunday, I did have all of Monday off and got some things accomplished and had a decent time. I woke up a little later than normal, getting out of bed by 8AM, showered got myself some breakfast, while Mimi took care of the girls, and went to pick up the lawn mower I had taken to get fixed the week before. Then after spending a few moments with Mimi and the little one, I went to my son’s school, picked him up, we ate lunch, and saw Star Wars.

Side note: This episode is a great movie. It is a defining movie and completes the circle. I think it is the best movie he made, and probably what he wanted the original movie, episode IV to actually be. The whole things starts like a roller coaster and is fast moving all the way through the end. Now I am not one of those folks all into SW or anything, but I know the story, and I think it is something that I feel is a big deal for me and my generation. I never had all the action figures or anything quite like that. I did have some models I built, but I am not a fanatic. This story of movies has been a great undertaking and has spanned the from the time I was my son’s age to the age my father was when he first took me to see Star Wars. However, the Episode III movie had some issues in the middle. I think it ran more like a series of scenes rather than a story and quite frankly if I could tell Lucas one thing, it would have been to split the episode into two parts and make it a five hour movie instead of squashing a bunch of scenes together to shorten it for a single viewing. I will stop there. I generally criticize movies because in the end, movies disappoint me, and many times books do the same because I think I do not want them to end. The resolution is a tremendous let down.

After the movie, my son and I walked around the mall,, because he wants to trade out his Nintendo DS for a PSP, basically because (and I have to agree) the DS sucks ass. We did some research, went to a couple of places, found a store where there are not part time ass-clowns working and I get a demo of the PSP, and my son has me convinced now that getting rid of his DS is a good move in light of the fact the PSP is a powerful piece of equipment. His only issue is how does he come up with the money for the PSP. So my son and I came home from the movie, we mowed and touch up the yard, then Mimi and I kicked back with some wine.

Thankfully I did not have another let down, although the little one was difficult to get to sleep and took much of the first hour, we did watch 24 and I was pleasantly pleased with the ending… you know why? Because it is not ending, there is next season, and Jack is now a fugitive. I won’t comment any further in case you have TIVO-ed and have not seen it. 24 is about the only show that I plan around (actually for the first season and this season, I lost interest in season 2 and 3). The first season was awesome, the second was ok, the third was like “Terrorist 90210” the parts I saw was like watching a soap. This season was outstanding!

So that pretty much brings me up to today in general. What do I have in the hopper to talk about?

Motormouth
Shitty Parenting (I am glad you were the bad guy)
My Son’s new business
More on how “Jay hates his fucking job”
I have a story idea (bear in mind any story bearing a resemblance or directly copying from what I publish is a fraudulent) and if anyone can tell me what to do with it or help me get this published I will certainly share the rewards!
I love the warm/hot weather, and sex with Mimi (ok, some more reminiscing).

So as the week progresses, I shall discuss more about these topics.

Reversal of Fortune and Pissing off Fate...

2005-05-18T22:11:00.000-04:00

OK, so yeah… I punked out. I missed a planned entry. Well, as it were, I had a temporary reversal of fortune. A reversal that was threatened already… But I will touch on that in a bit.

So I cannot stand my job. But why? Well, I sort of re-evaluated a lot today. Mind you I may change my mind by Sunday., but at this moment I have changed my mind about my job. That is the function I perform on a day to day basis. The job in general, when you lump in the general bullshit, the shitty pay, and the constant flux circling around me, still sucks!

So, I know… what the fuck happened? Well, on Monday I got a call from the office. Initially, my thoughts were that someone wanted to “follow-up” (code lingo for, we want to waste your time and get some information and additional minutia of detail that we need to burn someone). Later that evening I got another call. This time I answered it, because I knew if I did not I would get hounded all night more than likely. As it turned out, there was a problem to which someone had to attend. Therefore, schedules needed to be changed.

Now, my reversal of fortune, I am working the day shift for the next five days. Now how fucking sick is this? I am working over the weekend. Something I would never consider doing on general principal unless it was for something I was directly responsible. However, I have had such the seven month proverbial fucking, that this is the best fucking break I could get. I mean I got almost four days off, and I get to see my kids in the evening and sleep with my wife for well over a week without interruption and I score some over time.

Why did I reevaluate my job? Working the day shift is easier. I have all sorts of resources at my fingertips and I have management across the way from where we are located. Most folks who want to work nights do so to be away form management, and the bullshit of the day. Me, I thrive on that shit. And I work my best during the day. So a colleague of mine hits me up for some info on my position. She has been offered one of our new spots, which may allow me to move into days, but at any rate, she asked me if she should move from her current position into one of our spots. After she asked me, it occurred to me, what I really dislike is that I work nights, I don’t get differential pay and that I rarely get OT. Outside of that, if I worked days during the week I would be fine with it.

Now that cruel bitch Fate was fucking with me. As fortune took me under his wings for a few days, Fate said…” Oh no you don’t! I told you, you are MY bitch!” So today on the way home what happens… My car starts overheating. I cannot believe this shit. I could not be further in the sticks unless I were in Chatooga County and someone were yelling at me, “squeal like a pig!” So I pull over, there is a line of cars (I am pulled over on a two lane road with my car parked on a short gravel road next to an old wooden rusted barn that is about to fall over. On the other side of my car is one those wooden fences, fencing off a pasture.

So there I am, it’s hot, my car is steaming I have a pair of nicely shined Bostonians in the middle of this gravel road in the sticks and people are passing (this is how cool folks are in the south), asking if they can help. One lady tossed me a bottle of water. Keeping my cool, knowing my car, and having faith in it and Fortune, after a couple of stops for water and gently nursing my car, I made it home, defying that bitch Fate. She wants me, but not for anything good, at least, not yet. So what the fuck do I have to do for her?

Well, regardless, Fortune is with me this week. At least I hope he is… and hope he stays with me.

The weekend was pretty decent, I got a lot done. Mowed the lawn, took another mower to get fixed, took my son to one of his sporting events, watched my daughter and her little friend while Mimi went for a walk and took a shower. I cleaned our hot tub

BTW… If you know ANYTHING about Leisure Bay Spas, specifically one’s with the XTREME-TECH control pad, I need some HELP, so leave a comment or email me. I have somehow managed to lock the system and cannot set the temp, turn on the jets, etc… So is Fate fucking with me at home too? WTF is that all about, geez!

I got the car washed, made dinner a couple of times, and had fun with my family. Oh and Mimi, found she likes fucking in our converted garage with the doors open. I never realized how open it really was. My initial thought was that, it’s the garage, who will see us? As things unfolded, some gentle spanking on her ass, stripping her little plaid shirt and her short (very short) white blouse off her and me going down on her, I realized ummmm, that we were not far off the street. In reality it was very dicey. I think both of us realized it, and that made it even hotter.

Well, I need to close for the moment, and yeah I know I that description was little more than a tease, but I will expand upon our activities in the next day or so if she has not already.

Fate's Bitch...

2005-05-14T21:26:00.000-04:00

I paid last night. Paid big time! So prior to last night, although my job in general sucks ass, I had a relatively decent week. Long, boring, uneventful evenings, that is how I like it. Remember, this is just a job to me and I am marking time till I get something I want to do. So, last night I paid in spades for the Friday night fucking I got.

Fate, such a lovely lady, she has a sense of humor up there with God. Probably because they work hand in hand. Fate came to fuck me last night and she had a massive wooden, splintery strap-on that she used on me. I didn’t even get lube. I was Fate’s Bitch, sort of like Michael Jackson in San Quentin. I was MJ and she was this 500lb burly bald dude who was going to fuck me because he can. She bent me over and rammed that strap-on right up my ass. She was probably laughing the whole time. She was my Zed and there was no Butch to come save me. By the end of the night I was feeling violated and completely exhausted. To make matters worse, I was tired going into last night, so my fatigue just made things even more unbearable. I cringed each time the phone rang or I was paged. At one point I threw my headset and said, “fuck this shit, I need to just pick up my toys and go home.” Had I done that, I would be unemployed right now, so thankfully I had the sense not to give into my Id and bound out of that place like Flash on Red Bull.

So my evening started as soon as I walked in the door and I was slapped in the face with an issue that just could not wait until Monday or even the morning. This issue started several months prior. SO there was that to deal with, and all the people trying to solve the problem were going at it like a monkey trying to fuck a football. I mean no one could grasp the idea of what to do next or follow some course of action. So why did I have to get on and deal with the shit? Because the guy who was in charge of this whole issue, who decided to up the ante and involve my group went to sleep at 11PM, approximately 45 minutes after he decided he needed all these new players on-board (granted, the guy had been up since 4AM, but WTF; why at 10:15 do we deiced to make a big deal only to bolt). In addition, my management says this has to absolutely be taken care of by Monday because executives from our company and this other company are going to be talking and so since this has been going on for more than three months, we just now decided to stop drinking and smoking out, and decide to pull the cram session before Monday fucking morning so we pass the test we should have been studying for all along! What a crock of shit. So even now as I type, I am sure there are more players being added and this issue continues to drone on in our group almost 24 hours after the bets were upped.

So, this could have ended and I would have been satisfied. But nope… Fate is still paying me back.She is ramming me hard going “hammana, hammana, oh Ralphie!” Because you cannot have a completely quiet week. So now she is going to come get you. The rest of the night I got pages, and the phone was going crazy and the IMs were flying and problems abounded. Now there are a number of reasons I hate my job, for example this whole 3rd shift things completely blows Technicolor chunks. But if it were something low pressure, then I guess I could deal with it. But nope, the pressure is on all the time. My management manages by what I call the You Fuck-up and You Get a Week Vacation – UNPAID management style. That’s right… a week suspension for fucking up. I wouldn’t mind what I did if I were a fucking robot. But my problem is I like to think and my job requires little thinking. My job requires following lists that do not work for every situation, but they want the list followed in every situation. You fuck-up in a way that costs the company money… “Well See ya cowboy!”

So there are things going on all night, and checklists to be followed and issues overlapping other issues and people being woken up all night long. Our entire group should have just come in for work last night. I started to run out of people to call on for assistance because so much was happening.

Now I have to tell you, I have had two calls from recruiters in the last couple of days, for jobs in distant cites from where I am/or willing to relocate. I told them thanks but no thanks. I am not that desperate yet. But, if I have another night from the 13th round of hell like I did last night, I might start considering moving to Asshat Minnesota or Butt-fuck Montana. You never know, there could be some hidden thriving metropolis that no one knows about, where the weather conditions are artificially controlled and it’s a great big secret to the rest of the world because of all the sandy beaches they have created in what I consider the cold wastelands of the US are available only to those with the “In.” No offense if you live up north or in the Midwest or whatever… I am a southern boy and just prefer my neck of the woods, just as you folks prefer yours as opposed to the world of rednecks I live in.

I digress once again. I needed to get this post out. I am working on a couple of hours of sleep at the moment, but I felt the need to post something today and once again… I was going to write about something else, but alas, my suck ass job got in the way again.

I'm a Lion!

2005-05-13T03:22:00.000-04:00

I think if there were no Mimi (but thankfully there is a Mimi), the Hot Librarian would be high up on my list of women I would want to meet. Her blog isn't a sex blog or anything, but she is just cool. She write's like I think.

So I am cruising her site and I am led to this quiz. I do not normally do these quizzes, but this cracked me up... Mimi, you gotta check this out. I want to know what you are!

Take the What
animal best portrays your sexual appetite?? Quiz

Supplemental Post… I Need Help!

2005-05-13T02:29:00.000-04:00

OK, so here is the deal, I am not an HTML kinda guy. I do most of my web work using Dreamweaver (DW MX these days). I can fumble with HTML, and using common sense figure some things out, but I do not know the code.

So Mimi, is using Dan Bowman’s “Thisaway Rose” as her template on her blog site. For some odd reason her sidebar as shifted so all her links and such fall to the bottom of the page. Now I understand this is a known issue, but nothing very informative has been published on correcting this. Blogger says there is something which is pushing the margins and thus, shifting the sidebar. Well, that is cool and all, but I cannot find it. I have gone through all her entries and looked for extra characters or spacing, I have removed all her links and tested, I have adjusted the sidebar margins in the wrappers. I have done a lot to try to fix this. Would someone pull the Source, look through it and give me some suggestions. The folks at Blogger are rather reticent to help me. So I hope maybe you folks could help us. Thanks!