Apparently I Know Nothing

"I've always made it known to myself that having things go great should only make you more alert to the shadows making their way in the door while you celebrate."

-Me

This will be my last entry of the year 2007. I am happy. There. It's as simple as that when it comes to how I feel this year. All those times spent staring up at the ceiling as I did my reverse sit-ups, curled up downstairs with Sara in front of the plasma TV, witnessed how wonderful my girlfriend is at being a hostess for her party, caught myself enjoying a famous diner's atmosphere in Indiana, detailed my plans prior to taking off, argued as to which lane I should take, grew frightened at the possibility of my mother having cancer, and why I constantly have to tell myself that I do what I do but do it well.

This is a blog so my thoughts come in here on a nightly basis. It helps me sleep. It helps me relax more. It helps me find people that amuse me with their writings or observations. Sometimes, I think it's also trying to kill me by becoming an addiction. Not really, seeing as I've no real interest while I am away in Indiana. I forget and have no interest while there.

It has come to my attention that I have a lot of readers. No longer is it a few here and there everyday but a frickin' lot that just seem to have appeared out of nowhere. Scary? Yes, but I don't care if you're here for the attacks in my comments section left by a bat-shit girl or that damn link that leads you here from Masturbation-Links. Reading things while being a party completely unrelated to the situation can be fun. I understand that.

All day, I have spent time thinking about why someone would attack me like that. It's hurtful at first but then I find myself laughing. Why should I answer to the fact that I do love Sara. How many relationships have you been in? Have all of them been bad or so-so? Have you ever loved anyone else? I've been in several and can say that I've had a great close to 3 years with Sara. Maybe I'm the type to shout it out to the rooftops. It's true that nothing is perfect but I tend to see the good things. I'm happier and enjoy spoiling her every now and then. Sara told me that one of the best things about me is that she feels completely at ease at being a complete dork around me.

No matter what I put down here, it'll be put down or a whole spew of negative comments will come out. I'm tired of it. That is all.

I'm not this 'perfect boyfriend' but someone that clearly is going through some major changes. It's been so crazy having someone that can handle me. Why can't I see someone else enjoy what I am slightly jaded about? Do you know how good it felt when I took her out on an amazing date here in my town after having her meet my mother? Dressed nicely, isn't it a great feeling when someone treats you well instead of ignoring you? Sometimes, traditions are nice to hear about.

What the fuck do I know? Why should I even be defending myself anyway? It's a lost cause when someone just wants to attack out of nowhere. No one has kissed my ass but even they find it beyond weird.

So, today was spent on my back staring up at the ceiling during sit-ups, taking my body to the limits in the gym by beating my old record of 270 military press to a brand new 285, enjoying The Borne Ultimatum's ludicrous but fun chase, watching as 5-Pound Phooey found herself confused as to what geese are, and planning for tomorrow. How about you? Did you wind up doing all that you set out to do on a Sunday? Happy twats all around.

Riddle Me This

A Riddle: "The thing you can hit without leaving a scar. What is it?"

I've had what started out as an absolutely brilliant day only to end in a much somber tone. Don't you hate that? One minute you're on top of things and the next it's just another brick in the wall that shuts you down.

If you consider watching Bananarama videos as something worth doing, then you are and I are in the same boat. That VH1 80's show got me wondering why I could only remember 2 of their videos. Off to Youtube I go! What started as a simple crush on that dark haired one had me now remembering all those times I fawned over her short scene in "Do They Know It's Christmas?". It was slight. She was without makeup. Oh, she was so cute. Not even seeing a young Phil Collins on the drums could outdo that.

Sting had longer hair? My old hairstyle! Bring it back, Sting!

Somewhere along the life I lead, yes, watching Bananarama videos makes it all worthwhile. This also keeps me in reality. New Year's Eve is coming up and the tradition must be kept. A girl gets kissed at midnight. I know, I know. It's almost like she'll suddenly have her Chevrolet turn into a pumpkin and then sees that all her friends are really mice.

A boy must prepare. Well, this is how I see it because, yes, I have to go to Indiana once again. I've become quite used to all this since I know everyone. After almost 3 years, I better hope so because having weirdos just pop up out of nowhere is frightening. The past New Year's Eve gatherings were at a girl's apartment. No one likes the girl because she's a drunk. We be partying at the new place we helped set up over this hot summer. This time, we have guys that know their booze by not wallowing in it.

By preparation, I went out to Macy's to get a bottle of Hugo Boss. It's one major scent that Sara loves so I thought I'd surprise her by making myself smell better after work. Not that I am completely stinky. It's just that you'd think a girl would want to grab her boyfriend and nuzzle something that has a smell that makes her think of all sorts of naughty things she'll do to him the next morning before the after-party that always takes place at the Chinese restaurant.

My downfall is when I realize how much I miss someone. She knows who she is. After 5 years, you realize that no matter how mad someone gets you, she's still thought about. Goshdarnit. Ah hates it when I get all sentimental but it's true. I've loved Sammy for a long, long time and hate how I got so mad at her.

You know people mean a lot to you when your significant other gets upset over this type of thing. When I told Sara, she looked at me like I was insane. "Sammy means a lot to you." Yes, that much is true. I could go on and on about how I'd discuss little things with Sara about her every now and then. Sometimes, I really hate myself for things I've said. For the past 4 or 5 hours, I've been dragging ass because I miss her.

So, I'll bid a slightly sleepy adieu. The Year End Entry is playing in my mind so that'll be here soon. Keeping mental notes is tough when I've got a headache and cursing myself for various things I've done. I'll certainly be up to par when the last of the Holidays passes. The gym will once again be my second home after a girl gets her midnight kiss. What happens when a girl kisses a ninja at the stroke of midnight? Happy twats all around.

Answer to Riddle: Water

Strictly For My Ninjas

"When you're choosing between two evils, always try to choose the one you haven't tried yet."

-Mae West

Nothing like starting the morning reading a discussion between teenage boys on the message boards. Today, it was about the age-old question of boxers versus briefs. It's inevitable when everything slides downward into the subject of 'skid marks.'

So, I have become a topic of conversation at work. It all must have started when I wore a sleeveless t-shirt on the hottest days there. I had to. The sweat was pouring off me at a very fast rate so the muscles were evident. Even my manager let out a very obvious, "Whoa!" while I was getting ready. The only person that knows more about me is one of my co-workers that I met in the gym long ago, Mike. To others, I am a mystery because I'm not quite as talkative as I used to be thanks to being depressed that one of the girls I work with quit. She was a lot of fun in keeping things light and able to be dealt with.

I'll just put it bluntly. I'm a ninja. Not funny yet? According to the various questions I am getting from co-workers, they want to know where I learned the martial arts from. This has me laughing because it's become one small thing blown way out of proportion. All it took was an amusing martial arts stance where I pretended that I'd take on my manager. There was a meeting and he looked at me for a response at some point. Me being me, I wasn't paying attention and responded to all these eyes by taking a defensive stance. You've heard of them, MMA (mixed martial arts) bouts that has the world going crazy and I'm a ninja.

Today just had me laughing at all this. One of the guys working with me asked me where I trained so me being the moron that I am told him Japan. I now have an origin, too, where my dad was stationed there for the Air Force. It was here, at the age of 5 or so, that I learned ninjitsu. If you are laughing at this, join the club with Sara. She found it funny as well on how this thing just keeps going. Love the response to me living in Japan and training with ninjas:

"Cool!"

I guess that, thanks to the world of MMA becoming so big, guys wish they could be in the octagon beating others senseless. Can't really blame 'em. The badder you look, the more pussy just melts as you walk by. Me? I'm just a dork inside, tried and true and proud, even if my manager continues to make Bruce Lee noises when I'm nearby.

Strictly for my ninjas, yo.

I'd love to get into more stuff, seeing as I've been reading this new sex book I got at Waldenbooks. Some kids left it in the Arts & Entertainment section because all boys enjoy looking at boobies when fine photography is involved. I've never heard of 'urophilia,' the act of urine as sexual excitement. Apparently, some boys and girls enjoy watching the other pee in their pants. Yikes.

Unfortunately, I am dog-tired thanks to this never ending rainy weather and work's usual tiring aspects. Even ninjas get tired, ya know? I don't know how Silva does it. He's this MMA guy that trains while wearing a snorkel. This helps build his endurance even more since he's gonna need it in the December 29th fight with Chuck Liddell. Makes my old bicep workout look like shit. Happy twats all around.

Getting There......

"In this day and age, I'd say that the first sign of age is when you can't find the goddamn car in the mall's parking lot. Macy's is now Alzheimer's central."

-Me

Don't that beat all? I've been feeling old all day. Woke up late. Barely made it through work. The gym was especially tough because I felt like I needed a nap all fucking day. Sara's dad has me reading a book about a marine sniper out to avenge his father's death from way back in 1955. Do books make you feel as old as the characters?

I'm very sorry to hear of Bhutto's death carried out by the extremists that blow themselves up at events. Be it, Pakistan, Iran, or just about any fucking lunatic place where people let themselves be ruled by a ridiculous religion, I found her to be such a cool drink of water. I don't care what anyone says. People that follow Islam so closely are not as peaceful as you'd think. That goes to Christians as well. In fact, religion is just a crutch for the feeble minded fools that still think women should always have a male with them at all times or just the smallest amount of a female's exposed skin can send men into convulsions of lust. Poodle skirts, my ass. I'm all for women dressing the way they want to as long as there is no sighting of massive bellies hanging out all while a tank top says, "100% Sexy."

No, you is not.

So, my life changes majorly when I become an adult, old feeling and possibly senile now. No more unwrapping presents placed under the Christmas tree and then placing them back all wrapped up again. No more going through Mum's checkbook to see where she shopped for the toys named on my list. No more hiding in Target or asking the security guard to zoom in thanks to the CCTV cameras located in the toy aisle. It's all about showing up at THE house and eating keish.

I love keish.

I've gotten so wrapped up with living in Indiana that it's become a second home. I'm here and we go out to where Sara needs to go. Until February, I drive and deal with the usual rambling of having a girlfriend that insists on telling me each and ever small thing I do wrong. Once at a destination, all is well as if nothing ever happened. Sometimes, I yell back but it is the Holidays, after all.

Sara's mom surprised me with gifts to open. That's why I've been walking around with a brand new green mug the past few days. Cool, too. A weirdly drawn Christmas tree makes itself known that this is a Holiday mug. Fine by me, seeing as it'll do well in camouflaged areas if I ever find myself in heavy combat and a drink of lemonade is needed. Forget coffee. That shit's for sissies. We deal with the heavy stuff as if it's the 50's and a front porch is a place of gossip as we swing.

The coolest thing I received is a digital photo frame. 129 images can be displayed on a 5 inch frame while music from mp3's can highlight each one. Can you say 'neat-o?' It's something I've been thinking about, this sort of picture frame. Now I've got an even better excuse to put my camera to use. Music that I'd select tends to be from the 80's so Human League, Golden Earring, and Tears For Fears just might come up when my little 5-Pound Phooey's cute little mug ends up on digital LCD. She smiles when she gets a snack.

So, what did I get Sara? Money came up because she needs help paying off the Mac computer. Oh, it's nice! But no girl should find herself without presents. I've of firm belief that when one says she doesn't want anything, it's all fucking lies so I got that Planet Earth book that everyone's been talking about. Gorgeous pictures of life all around the world. I've no problem with spoiling since I've experienced that route for far too long.

This 'little box' that you asked about? It's a gift from my parents, a new set of diamond earrings, smaller than the other pair. I like 'em and Sara seemed to as well because she wore 'em the rest of the night and to work. I'm lost when it comes to jewelry because my likes tend to run in silver. Gold just doesn't do it for me.

The big news that kind of took me aback came right before I took Sara to the spa for a massage. It was the last day til the gift certificate expired. It was the day before Christmas. In other words, this was badly needed and I get a surprise.

Sara came up with the idea that I need to get a small dresser for her apartment. I lug clothes back and forth thanks to a large bag that only an Olsen twin would be proud of. At first, it felt so odd to be asked if I'd like to move some of my things into Sara's apartment. Again, the two of us are fiercely opposed to change thanks to an independent streak found in the both of us. A whole dresser!?! After being given a small drawer in the bathroom, this is quite a lot to think about. I'm all for it, only slightly nervous about how this is getting us more and more open to cracking our hard interiors.

All in all, it was a good time with Sara and her parents. I even had fun exploring the furniture place where the concept of getting a dresser came up. All sort of beds to to look at along with the various types of ways to dress them up. You know me. I'm in love with luxurious fabrics that make my time in the gym worth it. Muscles, let me tell ya, take in the thread count like a soothing motherfucker. If I sleep well, we'll all get along better.

So, I'll leaveth you here. I've got a mind to work on that book Sara's dad gave me and shake off work's tiring imprint. I hate feeling old. Love sex but don't lust for it as I did when I was 19. Find myself enjoying books than the idea of spending an evening downing beers with Bald-O. The worst is wishing things were as good as they were then or just finding my car in a large parking lot. Happy twats all around.

From My Cold Tired Heart

"And it's old and old it's sad and old and weary I go back to you, my cold father, my cold mad father......"

-'Finnegans Wake' by James Joyce

Took me years to figure the damn thing out. Why did adults always find Christmas Day as something to be spent sleeping or nodding off so easily? I mean, there's the whole day to play! No school! No menacing nun to tell you to give her a kiss on the cheek when you say 'hundred-and-one' rather than 'one-hundred-one!' There's sledding to be done! Lo and behold, just about every adult I physically looked up to was taking a nap.

While there might be a few of you that may question this, I feel a bit different in how I see Christmas. I may not enjoy the Holidays like I used. Working 4 years in retail can do that to a person. It's become more and more something I can freely say that I want a nap. I'm tired. No more driving home and finding myself stuck in traffic because everyone decided to go shopping in the middle of the day. No more whiny kids losing their sense of direction while I walk a straight line to where I want to go to and get out. It's over and I want a nap.

It used to be I would have some sort of plan to attack the presents located underneath the tree. Why not? They had my name on them, by jove! To this boy, it's just plain as day poison that I must take. Take a peak, will I? Move a small bit of tape out of the way to see what it is. Damn, Mum got it right. No more being good to the nuns that I had to kiss on the cheek. Bitches reeked of coffee.

No more presents. I couldn't care less. It's all about showing up at the girlfriend's parents' house. Be obedient and show some sort of smarts. Dress nice. None of that rugged shit where yo' damn drawers are showing. Cold air gives you a definite need for something buttoned up. I love it. Now, I need a nap. Where shall I begin?

So, I'm hoping this gives a good enough reason to end this entry. Drove home, played with little dog that shook her butt in an excited manner as I walked in the door, unpacked, talked to parents, went to work, and ate leftovers. Sure, other things happened. One of them being a big deal that I'll tell tomorrow. Yeah, it left me speechless because it just happened out of the blue. Push-ups and planning can wear a guy down to nothing. Happy twats all around.

Time To Go

Seeing as I'm still not quite in the mood to do much here on Blogger, I'll make this quick.........

I'm not exactly the type that loves the Holidays thanks to the nasty amount of traffic I need to deal with every day due to work or just on a quick errand. It's just that I still appreciate or hope that there is love out there and that there are still people that drop gold coins into the Salvation Army kettle pots. You'd be surprised to know that I found it extremely interesting that Sara drops her change in them after visiting a grocery store. She's also cute to shower with because she always takes water in her mouth and then spits. Then again, I'm getting ahead of myself here because there are all sorts of things I find amusing about Sara.

There are people I will miss while I'm gone. Others, it feels like I've been pushed out. The year is about to end so new things pop up. For me, I've got my year end entry and then there will be thinking as to what I will do. Will I stay with my job for longer than 3-5 more months? Do I move to Indiana? Stick with Blogger or just quit blogging altogether?

So, I hope all good things come for you. I can be vicious at times but I'm really as sweet and safe as Sara finds me. My idea of a great Christmas is reminiscing over being a kid but enjoying the body of being an adult. Ignore the conservatives and give a little oral under the mistletoe instead of the usual. Happy Holidays and may all twats be soothed.

Gonna Go Now

Okay, since it is getting awfully close to that time of year where Santa visits us, I am going to be good. Not just GOOD but really, really GOOD. Normally, I'd go into a rant or two, level off with some discussion on what value porn has, enjoy a naked cartwheel, lose myself in some nice cheese that would make you wonder if I was a mouse in a past life, and tell you how much I hate the Holidays.

Well, at least til next year because I know how awful it is to hide all that is dwelling inside when all of us raving lunatics feel the need to let out everything. I've still got my year end entry to type up that I've been playing with in my head. This was a very eventful year for me.

I'm going to be gone soon. Sunday is the night I leave for Indiana to spend Christmas with Sara and her parents. I did it last year so this is nothing new. It does feel weird to not find my own mother spending obscene amounts of time in the kitchen. Instead, it'll be Sara's mom and I with a bowl of peppermint ice cream and our deep discussions of what is on TV. At some point, Sara will walk in and insist the two of us head downstairs to sink into the leather couch and enjoy the plasma TV.

But that's my thing. My anger towards what is wrong with the strange need for so many people to spend huge amounts of time in stores all to hopefully get things that will make them like be liked even more. That's not me. I have everything. If I find something that would amuse someone I care about, it's then that I will walk out with a small smile on my face. Don't forget that it's not to get someone to like me. I'm just too gosh darn lovable anyway. 3 bloggers and have met me and enjoyed my goofy needs.

Why hardly anyone does anything special for me I'll never know. It's weird how I would rather experience opening a wrapped present than being handed a couple thousand dollars to do what I want with. Would anyone like to know how I wish someone would admit to knowing me?

I'm just not feeling very focused on blogging. Hell, I haven't felt much love towards it for weeks. I rant and rave over various things. Sammy wants to know if y'all feel shame. Not sure how that is worded but do I make you feel that way about yourselves from the words you read here? I do think we need to bring back shame since this is a time where everyone thinks they can do anything they want, even if it hurts others silently. Why am I thinking of a certain 16-year-old that tells the world she is pregnant? Oh, babies are like teddy bears? This world is so fucked up. Bring back shame!

Oops! I cussed so forget that little naughty word for a minute and flick your labia's piercing. An angel just got its wings!

So, I leaveth this rather dull entry. While I have no interest in making someone love me, I do give some of the best gifts. Yes, there is going to be a small box presented to Sara. After almost 3 years together, it's time, huh? Happy twats all around.

Still Hate Fat Bloggers

"Things are going great
and they're only getting better.
The future's so bright, I gotta wear shades."

-'The Future's So Bright I Gotta Wear Shades by Timbuk 3

Finally, I went out and did what I said I'd do. As much as it makes things easier for me, I'd rather a girlfriend that wishes for money as a Christmas gift actually finds something to unwrap. No, I'm not talking about a condom and that little smile she has when placing it on me. All girls want to have that moment where someone got them something, preferably wrapped and in a small box. Since I can't take the chance at Sara reading this (she does not visit here), I'll just say that it is nice and big. Guys that give saws and floormats as Christmas gifts deserve to be shot.

While reading Slash's biography, I realize that I'm a little like Axl Rose, possible chance of flying into some kind of ridiculous rant or anger over things other people find trivial. All I will tell you is that I cannot stand how fat chicks think their massive lop-sided tits as something to makes us all behold in their power to fit into toaster slots. Breasts fill cups so hence the 'cup-size' measurement fitting. There is one woman I used to read that spent so much time telling everyone how great her boobs were. All I could do was shrug and wonder why someone like this feels no shame. Beautiful breasts/tits/boobs/knockers do not look like basset hound ears or pancakes with a small cherry.


But really, I am doing just fine as the line from Timbuk 3 states. Today, I found myself thrilled with a little dog I normally despise. Along with schnauzers, I have never been a fan of chihuahuas, that small dog that Paris Hilton was known for carrying around. They've always shown a lot of nervous energy or much too territorial for my tastes.

My haircut was spent with a little 4-month old chihuahua sitting on my chest. It was love. As I got my hair washed prior to the haircut, this little dog took in all the chest rubbing I could give it. Of course, that did mean time outs where I was given little licks on the face as a reward from it. This little thing was so tiny and so much more friendly than any chihuahua I've ever met. I have made my peace with the little dog and will bring along 5-Pound Phooey to meet it. It'll be 2 bitches and they're will be 99 problems.

Along with falling in love with a teeny weeny wittle doggie, my continuation as to why I love Rob Zombie keeps happening. I love horror movies and find him to be one of the best directors when it comes to this type of thing. First there was House Of 1,000 Corpses, nice but had a few faults all while introducing us to the Firefly Clan. Then, there's Rob's sequel to this, The Devil's Rejects, something that is hard to watch as one friend of mine walked out of the theater. Now, it's Halloween, Rob Zombie's version.

Rob Zombie's Halloween is so fucking fantastic that I think I love it even more than the original. That's saying a lot since it really is a classic, straight to the point horror movie by Jon Carpenter (I first saw it in college). Here, you have the first hour being all about why Michael Myers became the boogeyman or 'Shape' as they nicknamed him, too. This was not found in the original because that was more about how he got out of the psycho ward and went after his relatives to help erase his family. Here, Rob's Halloween shows how but also begs you to question whether a person's possible evil can begin at the age of 10.

But horror? It's been a lost cause for years. Halloween did it beautifully because there were no cheap scares. Michael is big, bad, and he wants you out of the fucking way. Rob gets it and I cannot believe how there was a huge amount of people that didn't like it like this. People keep writing into horror mags about how the horror film is lost. Rob gives it to them and it's still a problem!?! People are just as jaded as fatass tit bloggers. We're given time with boogeyman in knowing how it came to be instead of just being some sort of simplistic scary story. No, it's tense when Michael chases Laurie in his old house. No fucking surrender. The girl is fucked and she knows it.

My only problem is that Rob Zombie uses the same people over and over. You'll notice Sid Haig from everything along with his wife. It's not bad but just a bit too weird seeing the same people over and over. The guy playing Michael as an adult is 6'8' so he's a big mo'fo' fo' sho'.

I have the hardest time seeing rape scenes. Halloween's got one but at least it's not as bad as his previous movies. In his defense, it sets up a major moment where things are now fucked for everyone.

It's funny how I am forced to watch horror movies here. Sara hates them. It's just me in the dark with 2 lava lamps glowing as werewolves, Jason, Freddy, Michael, vampires, and the Firefly Clan raise hell. I'm very rarely scared. Dog Soldiers still freaks me out to this day because 8-foot werewolves surrounding a farmhouse can only mean certain death. Halloween had that nice little chase scene in Michael's house that was a little tense at times. Way to go at bringing back horror, Rob! Whoo!

So, I'm guessing this is a good time as any to get the fuck out of here. I'm debating within myself as to whether I should see The Born Ultimatum or Harry Potter's latest. Could it be that a little chihuahua placed some goodness back into my cold steel heart after yesterday's rant? Don't bet on it. The future's so bright I gotta wear shades. Sara's on Sunday. Get my drift? Happy twats all around.

The Obese Bloggers Rethink

This entry has been censored for your protection

WhySoSerious?

"When the bullet hits the bone...."

-'Twilight Zone' by Golden Earring

There's something in the air as I consider it beautiful how a female audience member on Oprah asked the guest doctor if she could be allergic to her boyfriend's semen. I'd stand up and take away all those gasps from various people that cannot believe that a woman swallows by asking something, too. If, say, I get the shits after licking my girlfriend's flower, is there something wrong with me or her? We're all fucked.

Why does a doctor wear scrubs while sitting there with Oprah anyway?

It's been a rather nostalgic day for me. When things get bad (as I was feeling about missing out on work for Sunday morning), my mind tends to go loopy. Laying there in bed with a massive boner on soft sheets just begs me to hit the 'puter for some major dealings with all I love. Who else must see G.I.Joe commercials in order to get their fix?

It's very much so that I consider myself mildly retarded. How else do you explain this blog? Youtube had me addicted quite a bit today as I watched a few of those amazing 80's videos that had me dancing around the room as a kid. While I may not have understood what was going on, it was those sounds that kept me entranced. I wanted to come dancing with The Kinks, visit the Twilight Zone with Golden Earring, and admit that I sure as hell want you, Human League. There is something lacking in how MTV is today with all those reality shows. How many remember falling asleep to music instead of staring at the fake tits on Heidi from The Hills?

Yes, work has become hell. It's one week and hours til Christmas and all are gone grumpy. No sugar plums to be inserted in bellies. We be working, yo. That's why I've spent so much time watching old creative music videos. They, they spin me around as the boy takes a tennis racket to mimic a guitar jam before throwing it into a mirror. 3 girls dressed in leather do a very nice choreographed dance just before inserting truth serum into our captured hero. As much as I do enjoy the occasional booty break down in a rap video, creativity rules. You can be something without spending time in prison and walking up to the camera holding your lunch money. I've got more money than you and I don't fucking brag.

You want the truth? It's cold and I miss Sara. Sad, huh? I'm certainly not whipped or on some sort of leash. I just like being with her and especially enjoy bedding her. You should see Sara when she's so tired after work. It's almost like a horrible chore for her to get her clothes off and her naked ass under the sheets. I'm the one that giggles but it's not because of farts. It's because even in the dark you can see her smile as I place a certain something between her ass cheeks.

Question I just came up with all of a sudden: Summer, what's your actual workout?

Oh, and for all of fans of Batman, the new trailer for The Dark Knight Returns was put up on the 'Net. The Joker looks fantastic! He's demented and looking devilishly scary, something that Jack Nicholson's lacked. You just don't fuck with someone that has no problem putting you in a body bag.

So, I leaveth you here as my creativity has been zapped by large materials carried over and over by yours truly. I'm tired. 5 full days of this hell are all that is left before I get my naked butt underneath some nice sheets and see if Sara can guess whether that's my finger or something else. Being a kid trapped in a body built for sin can be a good thing. Depends on the girl, too, I guess. She's in if she reads comic books and spanks. Happy twats all around.

Normal? Hardly For Today

"That's a wonderful side effect of leather pant: when you pee yourself in them, they're more forgiving than jeans."

-Slash, his biography (p. 197)

Woke up this morning. Got myself a gun......actually, I got myself a shovel and high-tailed it outside to deal with what happened when I woke up around 6am this morning.

A snowstorm is kind of peaceful at night when you're lucky to have a nice heated home. Since the lights in my room radiate quite a lot over our backyard, I sat on the edge of my bed to watch a very aggressive snowfall last night. Beautiful. Normally, I'd be stressed out about how I have to get up early for this volunteer overtime but I was just to entranced by what I was watching out my window.

It was this morning that made things completely hellish. My car was going nowhere. The streets were horribly thick with snow even around 7am. It would be impossible to get to work for the call-time of 8am. I'm doubtful anyone showed up. When I was out there digging my car out along with a large portion of the driveway, I counted no more than 5 cars driving by the whole time. I'm logical so the fact that I'm going to be pretty damn tired after digging made me call it by heading on back to bed. I don't care if there was a cookout after work. Safety and my tired body made it known that tis better to curl up in bed with a little dog on patrol.

It's been a long time since I've passed out like that. I mean, I was out and had the hardest time waking up to get back out there to shovel. Would have been nice to have some overtime money but this boy was too poop'd to party in any form. 5-Pound Phooey was hilarious to sleep next to because she kept moving closer and closer to cuddle. With Sara, I'm like a sauna so my dog enjoyed the warmth that she was missing.

Being snowed in is kind of aggravating. On one hand, I enjoy working to make myself feel some sort of accomplishment. The other? I get to have some time to catch up since I tend to get too excited for sleep at night. Get up around 6am? Hard when you were wide awake past 2. Sometimes, I'm really weird. With Sara, I can sleep so easily since her walls are pretty bare to stare at while waiting to drift off. Mine have so much to look at and think about all while wondering about work's possible chaos.

That's not to say I didn't accomplish anything. A few things like rearranging my room did happen. There are some much needed cosmetic changes but I'm having a hard time knowing where to start all while thinking about getting a medium down allergen comforter for extra warmth. Let's just say that I'm very particular when it comes to the place I spend much of my time in. Make me think or keep my mind racing and no depression is best to say.

Reading hit me hard. I've been reading Slash's biography, in other words a lot of debauchery and tales of being in Guns N Roses. You could say they are one of my favorite bands thanks to songs like 'November Rain,' 'You Could Be Mine,' 'Estranged,' 'Welcome To the Jungle,' 'Sweet Child O' Mine,' and 'Don't Cry.' They came at a time where I was just slightly questioning my time spent in private school. Axl had the voice while Slash had the look I needed to start wondering if anarchy can be a good thing. Longer story short? Guns N Roses just came at me full speed and never stopped. Why Sara and many others I've met don't like them, I'll never know.

That was my day. Shovel for a few hours here and there, take a break by reading 'Slash,' and then do a few other things before heading back out. I've read so many rock star biographies that I wonder if it's a must-do thing to get hooked on drugs. There was Motley Crue and their insane idea to put a phone inside a girl's pussy and then calling her mom. Nikki Sixx talked about how he spent Christmas alone, naked, and with a shotgun after getting too 'out there' on heroin. Now, Slash discusses deeply about little demon people chasing after him in a detox center all while running down the hall completely naked. Man, I've missed out on a lot since drugs just haven't been my thing all through life.

The one thing I tend to wonder about is this. Through all this ordeal of OD'ing or doing so many drugs til he/she passes out, how the fuck do these people have such a good memory? Nikki Sixx kept a diary all throughout those years with Motley Crue so he's okay. The stuff he says is brutal on just about everybody. But Slash? Man, how can he remember every little thing after being hooked on heroin? Good fun, though. The stories are great on how Guns N Roses started and ended but the pictures also bring something. Slash got married and his wife allowed some personal pictures for show. Would you allow the world to see your face in your husband's butt as he stands there with his pants down?

I always knew Axl Rose was trouble, though. Genius but a troubled genius that came up with 'November Rain,' a song I played over and over and over again for many mornings before school.

So, I'm going to let y'all go now. Dig yourself out if you're in the northeast, yo. 6-10 inches for us. Sara sent me an email late last night to tell me she misses me and that she's sleeping in a shirt I left her. Women. They always want to wear my clothes. Sara's worn my pants, t-shirts, and football jerseys. Seeing her walk down the hall to pee while wearing my cargo pants was amusing because she had a hard time keeping them up due to the bagginess. Of course, Sara has also had moments where she buried her face in my ass to tell me how much she loves me, too. Happy twats all around.

Should I Pierce?

"We get semi-automatic weapons, they get automatics. We get Kevlar body armor, they get armor-piercing rounds. And you're wearing a mask and jumping on rooftops. Take this guy; armed robbery, double homicide. Has a taste for theatrics, like you. Leaves a calling card....."

-Batman Begins (Lt. Jim Gordon right before he shows a joker playing card)

Does you spidey-sense ever tingle when presented with certain things, things you're not supposed to know. Many of the addicted shoppers or the type that absolutely love Wal-Mart are those I wouldn't count on noticing anything like this. Each week, we get coupons from Bed Bath & Beyond that tell us we could save 20% on one item. So, each week, you've got a flock of housewives or lonely women strolling the aisles in pursuit of something to make them feel like they've accomplished something. Want to bet that these stores raise the prices 20% or have them kept at that so that not a dime is lost?

Of course, you've probably noticed that I now pay more attention to bedding and things of the like now that I've dealt with my little project. It's kind of an addiction to think up little things to make my bed either weird or just make it stand out. Forget comfort for just a short while. I'm talking white sheets with black polka dots!

As you can see, I'm kind of tired of seeing so many coupons from Bed Bath & Beyond or they're just driving me nuts to bring me back in there now that I've dipped my toes in their pond. Creating a bed that brings style, comfort, unawakened slumber, and the almighty bedding of the female species is not for sissies.

In case you are confused about the quote above, I will tell what many already know. I love the Joker, Batman's main foe. This quote takes place at the end of Batman Begins as it's made known that this guy is in town to wreck havoc on Gotham. To be truthful, I was a little timid over who would play one of my beloved characters. While Jack Nicholson was brilliant in some ways, the Joker is a very skinny guy that doesn't hide behind hats of any type unless they're for theatrics.

Could they have gotten it right? The new Joker has been revealed. Empire Magazine has a great picture of him played by Heath Ledger. So far, I like what I see but hope that the character is as demented as can be. You'd think that in this day and age that the Joker would involve himself in today's technology but he still insists on a car with a runway to hold onto as he sprays bullets into the crowd. Yes, this man so well-known to us Batman fans is going to be a tattoo on my shoulder someday next year. The ol' Joker will be holding a set of cards with his face as drawn by Jim Lee. Sara says it fits me. It's up to you to tell me no.

Note: The Joker did not kill Batman's parents. That pissed me off when it came to the first movie and how these writers can take something so beloved to us comic book fans all while ruining the mysteries that haunt for many issues.

One thing I hate about this time of year is seeing ads telling me I must buy things for people all in hopes that they'll love me more. Got news for you. I'd rather you love me for who I am and no laptop or DVD is going to save you from my evil clutches. You're stuck with me. Be it, black, white, brown, I am loved by a lot for my need to unleash hell that's kept in my mind.

In case you are planning on sending me anything, my sneaker size is 11.5. I have a large bust-size of over 46-inches. Pants are best at the 34-inch area because I like 'em baggy. No jewelry but I'm tempted to get a piercing for a diamond (Sara gave me a firm "NO!" on this). My preference in underwear is Calvin Klein boxer-briefs. No socks-have plenty. Nude pictures are always welcome. I like carrots. Teddy Grahams are nice, too.

Sara's getting money from me. It feels weird to do that for Christmas but it's the only way she can afford the Mac computer she now has. The payments are going to be pretty high. It does save me time at finding something because no girl should go without a gift or two when it comes to her boyfriend. Right? Am I right? Girls that say they are so happy with their boyfriends not getting them are called 1 thing:

Liars! Liars! Big fat fibbers! *Blows raspberry*

I'll get Sara something. No diamonds this year. My gym membership and car insurance ripped a lot out of me this month. The 3-year anniversary is coming up next February so I'll probably be dwelling more on that. I told Sara this and even she agrees that it's never felt that long. First day I met her, I still remember what sneakers I wore, how she answered her door, and when she took me to her favorite restaurant.

Girls, I've gotta ask. Males with a diamond in 1 ear. Yay or nay? Michael Jordan does it so why can't a weird white boy like me bring out his inner thug? Help me out, brown people, white people, and black people.

So, I'm outta here as I anticipate the new Halloween being released next week along with Blade Runner. I've seen neither movie but I love sci-fi and horror. Jon Waters (Hairspray, Cry Baby......) was given one of the original Friday the 13th hockey masks. When I read that, I got jealousy creeping all over my body. I've always wanted one. It's always the lucky perverted few that get all the perks. Happy twats all around.

Soggy Bottom Girl

"I wouldn't leave the toilet seat up if I was married to either one of those two."

-Announcer making a comment during 2 girls fighting on an MMA (mixed martial art) bout

Interesting moment, to show that women can put up a pretty decent fight when confronted about the old issue before us. Toilet seat. Up or down? Sara insists it be down at all times. She has even made this known by bringing me into the bathroom to demonstrate that that one time where she fell in was not as funny as I found it to be. Yes, it did happen where Sara didn't know the seat was up and I learned to be careful when I laugh. Girl with soggy bottom not happy.

I'm not sure why I get mesmerized at watching women fight. Showtime had the old match where it was the first time two women fought in an MMA bout. Just like with the guys, blood was flying out of various holes broken open by fists or kicks. It might not be sexy to see a woman with a black eye. It is sexy when she's as gorgeous as the woman I watched so amusingly, Gina Carano. Hot, in shape, and with nice abs but why all this padding in the breast area?

Jessica Alba is pregnant. Pass it on. The prude has verified that she not only has herpes and cannot act but has been having sex before marriage. The shame!

I'd like to tell you of an announcement I forgot about the past few days. Believe it or not, this is a very big deal to Sara and I. We're the type of couple that are very hard-pressed to undo our old habits or to allow others to be around us for awfully long periods of time. I like my away time in the gym to lose myself in that natural high while testing my strength. Sara likes to paint and read or whatever super secret thing she does where half-naked pictures of herself end up on her camera.

I got a drawer! In the bathroom, Sara told me that I can have the bottom one to place my things, hair gunk, shampoo, glasses, contacts, and contact shit. Hooray! No more leaving all that stuff out on the counter and maybe I'll leave it there instead of hauling it all back and forth. You'd be surprised how annoying it gets to pack and re-pack over and over again. At least I'm not a girl hauling makeup, feminine napkins, and nail polish.

I love using "feminine napkins." Let's bring that word back into style where we already discuss so openly about vaginal odor issues and yeast infections.

Since the night was so nice, 5-Pound Phooey got a walk. Been a long time as you see her ears perk up all because I used her favorite words: "Go for a run?" Dogs love routine. Dog that hasn't been outside in a long while must check her p-mail messages left on trees for long periods of time. Why is that I feel 5-Pound Phooey sends the threatening type? I'm sure the transcript will always begin with:

"Fuck you, motherfucker......I'm gonna use my 3-inch legs to fuck you up and eat some cats like ALF....."

Much of my downtime from work has been spent reading the history of Friday the 13th. You'd be surprised at how much that movie has had all with its many sequels as well. A hardcover book was inevitable where just about everyone in the cast is interviewed about their experiences. Did you know Jason, the main killer in 2-4, 6 and up, was considered clever because anyone could be hired to play him? A stuntman was generally used and for scale instead of having to increase the pay in each sequel. Keeping Freddy fed was expensive but Jason worked for peanuts and was obviously pissed about it by taking it out on half-naked coeds.

Work has been really, really bad so I find myself smiling more and more when nice magazines like S come out. It's basically a bi-annual foreign one that I can only find in our local Borders store. If it's not bagged, you can't miss it. A completely naked woman is bent over all while exposing her cute pink pussy. You can't get better advertising than that.

I've enjoyed coming across S Magazine for the last 2 years. It's hard to get since not many guys have an issue with paying $20 for a very odd, sexy, and intelligent magazine. The paper it is printed on is incredibly nice as it would make the black and white nudes perfect for framing. Of course, you'll have to be living without the touch of a female since I'm not quite sure how a girl would feel with pictures of other ladies naughty bits being photographed up close. If they had a letters to the editor section, I'd swear there would be thousands saying they wish their noses could be on whatever flooring she sat on while naked.

Me, I just want to be Keira Knightley's bicycle seat for a couple years.

So, why do I cherish S Magazine a bit more than.....say....Penthouse? This is the kind I'd put out if I ever created one. It's not only women posing in various states of undress (many are also clothed for fashion) but there are men, too. Seriously! There are penises on display for women and gay males to ogle, not just flaccid but hard. Why not? I've always been about evening things out for both sexes even if it's not the kind of thing where women go and buy Playgirl. The men that pose aren't completely model-type and neither are the women. In college, I was friends with a girl that covered her whole dormroom with naked guys. I'm not kidding about how I stood there in awe while thousands of naked black males were all around me holding their dicks. My kind of woman is one that likes something and says it proudly.

The thing that always annoys me is how so many models posing nude barely smile. Just like how I loved seeing the Victoria's Secret girls walk the catwalk showing how happy they are, I love how so many in S Magazine crack open their mouths to show personality in their faces. It's a silly pose. The photographer has his camera right up front with your pussy as she holds her ass cheeks apart. How can you not laugh? There is more of an artsy feel than Playboy's usual girl posing in an expensive bed. How boring and typically blond. I may not be attracted to black women so easily but I'm curious about their pussies.

I need to go to bed. I know. I'm beginning to sound really weird after seeing a nice picture set of Helena Karel (sp?), a porn star with an amazing body. I'm not sure if she's Indian nor should I care. Helena is wearing nothing but Christmas stockings and a smile. So, after being laughed at by my manager as I told him how tired I was, I'm out of here. If you are posing for your boyfriend/husband for sexy Christmas pictures, remember to smile. It makes a huge difference as you should be happy to be naked. Happy twats all around.

No Cookie For You

"I used to be a nun, you see. I thought physics could be done to the glory of God, till I saw there wasn't any God at all and that physics was more interesting anyway. The Christian religion is a very powerful and convincing mistake, that's all."

-The Amber Spyglass by Phillip Pullman

My mother knows how to hit me hard. Why she continues to do it, I do not know. The problem happens when she makes special treats, things with chocolate that I cannot eat. Nothing for me. My mother said mine would be some little thing I place in the microwave. Apparently, I am not worthy to eat anything that's worth making.

Now you see why I'm pretty much fine with leaving here for Christmas. It would be spent at Sara's instead of here where I feel as if I'm only worth a quick heating. According to the job schedule, I work on Sunday but am off Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, time spent where Sara's parents make me feel so good about myself. Trust me. It is dysfunctional here, with things I haven't talked about. Some of it could be my mum's depression but that's no excuse to bake things for others but leave one child without, especially one that misses chocolate so much that he'd kill for an M&M.

I'm guessing you may or may not see why I'm a little bit depressed. This tends to happen more so when I'm tired and, yes, I am extremely tired thanks to work, my workout, and a little dog that now has too much energy to run off thanks to the weather being awful for walkies. Up and down the hall is 5-Pound Phooey in a huff while carrying her favorite squeaky toy to taunt me with. Where do dogs find this feeling of fun when it comes to fetch? Sometimes, 5-Pound Phooey likes to lay in the hall to just squeak the toy like a harmonica.

Our church has taken it upon itself to warn people about this movie, The Golden Compass. Funny. It all has to do with the worry of kids being able to think for themselves. Might they find that being feeble-minded is not for them? Might they find that there are better things than to live as hocus-pocus sees it? It's funny how all this is to me because in private Catholic school, it was installed into us that Ronald Reagan was the best choice of president. Sorry to say this. I believed it.

Choice. Why can't people be allowed to think for themselves? Sure, The Golden Compass might not be as great in telling Phillip Pullman's story due to leaving many things out. Maybe it's not a great flick. Period. But why is it such an issue that kids might see the actual evils of the Church? Could it be that its pull in politics is becoming all too apparent? Might we be seeing how people with certain hatreds and bigotry use it for their own purposes? I mean, how can you not see the ignorance of a church going woman holding up a sign that reads "God Hates Fags' all because she hates homosexuality?

Let's get into something more positive. I'm already bored with the discussion on religion simply because it brings up a lot of bad memories. Yes, I was brain-washed and didn't fully understand this until I spent many hours having a discussion with the woman who took my virginity, Kristan. See? Sex can make a person better by showing him that an orgasm is a good thing instead of being something shameful.

Sara's party was very, very nice. My girlfriend was an incredible host in greeting everyone to make them feel right at home. Not one person was left to stand or sit alone. Good grief! It was a meeting of nerds, geeks, dweebs, losers, and all-around weirdos that could bond and enjoy how much they love Family Guy.

I still don't get that show but I'm trying.

As I was saying to one of those at the party, I went from parties, to keggers, to booze-cruises, and now to fondue. Mind you, this was my first time enjoying fondue. Oh boy, have I calmed the fuck down by not getting drunk and talking to myself in front of a wall (It happened and arguing with myself over the weather is okay after 12 beers). I did get drunk but no wall talking took place.

This party was really nice in how it was handled by Sara. Not only was she an incredible hostess but also at preparing. A small apartment handling 20 people just didn't seem possible to me. Well, it worked as you see how a lot of people enjoyed laying on the floor to play the game Apples To Apples. People did get a little taste of Sara's risque' side when she grabbed me to pull me into the bathroom to kiss. Eyes were wide when we both walked out together.

Did they or didn't they? I'm sure that with such a high geek ratio there were several virgins attending the party.

A rather large guy took time out to smoke on the porch. I joined him because he was fun to talk to inside so why not? What I got was a perfect version of karaoke to Sir Mix A Lot's "Baby Got Back." Amazing! I'm pretty sure he'd normally be shy to do this in front of a large crowd but it was done so well that I wondered why. The facial expressions and the hand movement made it me laugh very hard, something I don't always do. I laugh but when a large guy takes it, and I mean REALLY takes it, it's golden. Now, if I could talk to him again, I'd like to see Salt N Pepa's "Push It." Can a fat guy shake his ass like a dump truck?

So, I'm going to leaveth y'all here. Work has worn me the fuck out. I may not work retail but we do get hit by the Holidays pretty hard. While my muscles and paycheck are large, I'm dreaming of a nice peaceful slumber not interrupted by the fact that Target is has a better looking cover art to the new Harry Potter DVD. Must get there early or housewives will haul their large asses off the couch all in search for gifts for the kids. Damn them. For me, evil characters are make better looking artwork because good just sucks. Tomorrow, we'll talk dirty stuff since I need to bring back X-Rated to this blog. Happy twats all around.

Ol' Roosty Got Back

"Pretty much everything in life can be figured out by noticing the patterns."

-Me

Not a good month for psychos. Is it just me noticing how every loose canon seems to now just feel able to release all that tension? Lost girlfriend and working at McDonald's? Take gun to mall and have a ball! Can't get back in to a church? Sittin' in pews deserve to end up in stews.

I've had a great weekend even if the weather did slightly ruin things. Waking up and pulling back the curtain to Sara's room showed me a lot of ice hanging off of tree branches. Beautiful to look at but a bitch to walk outside knowing it's so cold that the deciduous are frozen in time. Puddles become ice skating rinks for whatever bird was stupid enough to stick around. For me, I always have to hear Sara's boots stomping behind me as I scramble to get the keys to her car out of my pocket. I'm nicely endowed but some of that bulge just so happens to be 2 sets of keys.

It's no joke that I must say I am tired. Waking up at 7am, drive almost 1.5 hours, go to work, and do push-ups at home can leave most people out cold on the floor just for attempting. There were those tough sit-ups as well but I feel like they are so beautiful in motion that they are not a chore. My whole stomach is empty while my abs are so strong. It's easy to see that I like my patterns. They fit me well. They do things to keep me with an inner strength as well as an outer one that gets me some attention I may or may not want. I'm a machine that eventually wears down.

You'd almost come up with all sorts of questions in regards to Sara and I if observing us on Friday night. I walk in to find she and her roommate doing major cleaning for Saturday's party. I only partly existed. It was me on the couch coughing and sneezing as the 2 girls walked back and forth. A little kiss here and a pat on the head made it known that I still exist. I didn't help because:

A). I am allergic to cats, dust, and dirt
B). Do something wrong? Get yelled at and it upsets the vibe. We do argue a lot but it can also be fun.

All I can tell you is that going to bed too tired to fuck can bring odd moments. It's 4am, Sara and I are awake. She looks at me. I look at her. It's inevitable to ask but Sara wants to know if I'm awake. I nod and end up watching my knob get slobbed prior to being ridden. Cowgirl can't sleep and must ride something. It's kind of funny how I tend to get nervous about sex in the dark because doggy style has bad results when the wrong hole has been interrupted. Got it right on this one and ended up catching Z's peacefully knowing that the female she-demon from hell has had her pussy soothed. You'll know this because my right forearm had some really deep cuts all around it.

So, I'm going to catch up on the latest message forum board members posting up their favorite porn. As you can see, I'm curious as to what turns others on no matter how tired I get. Sara's party went awesome so I'll talk later. All you need to know is that I got a bit drunk and watched a rather large male sing "Baby Got Back" out on the apartment porch. Happy twats all around.

Superbad

"Lightning strikes all that is evil.
teaching us to love for goodness' sake."

-'Loved By the Sun' by Jon Anderson

Amazing how I can just suddenly feel so good. Last night was not fun, not fun at all. My problem was that I couldn't see anything good about my life by only looking at anything that was negative. I was a mess. Let's just leave it at that.

Yes, I did have that beer last night.

I'm not sure where Illinois's balls went. As soon as it became known that we will be getting 3-inches of snow, every newscenter went nuts at telling us to prepare ourselves. Please. 3-inches is nothing and nor should it be anything to anyone out there. The roads clear up fast with that small amount of snow. Hell, we lived through those 17-inches dumped on us near Valentine's Day. Remember that? It's hard for me because I remember sending our little late-Ellie-Mae into the maze I made for all 5 Yorkshire Terriers we had at the time. Imagine being inches tall but coming across that kind of snow just to take a dump. We humans have it good. Small dogs be pissing in the wind.

Even as I look out the window as I type this, I have zero fear. For me, I can easily drive in the snow thanks to a very good eye-hand-coordination. You can also add in my ability to move very fast in getting control. A few times, I have been known to slide a little but I always got control back even under the influence of bad brakes. This reminds me that I have to memorize Sara's car's good/bad points in driving because I do the driving til February. If she reaches 6 months and no seizure, driving priviledges come back! Hooray! Everyone gets ice cream and I no longer have to endure being yelled at for going the wrong way (her directions....*ahem*).

Want to know my personal little thing I am finding I like more and more? Bed Bath & Beyond or various other places where women tend to congregate in large masses. It's the smell when you walk in there! Due to my allergies and very good sense of smell, it matters to me. The usual male places where peanuts and unwashed asses just doesn't appeal to me. Take me to Bed Bath & Beyond or Linen & Things just to help me pick out new bedding stuff. It's weird how I find myself liking this kind of thing after being very, very afraid to venture in.

Of course, that meant I went again, to Bed Bath & Beyond, that is. 1 of 2 allergen pillows are needed. 2 are for my bed while a 3rd will be picked up soon to take to Sara's in replacing the one I leave there. Yes, it kind of is a short weekend sleepover where 2 people cast off their clothes. I'm just so in love with the special allergen pillow and how there are moments where I feel as if I can drift off so easily. Sleep is very important to people that work out. That's a tip. Write that down, kids.

But have you noticed a certain kind of shopper in Bed Bath & Beyond? There were women in there. Well, no surprise there but I got this huge feeling of loneliness where they don't have anyone to sleep with. I guess there are some women that want to build up their bed or bedroom while others hit the bars in hopes of being bent over and taken after splitting a pitcher or 2. I dunno. I'm leaning towards the lonely girls walking the aisles with new pillow cases more so than the ones squatting in an alley after closing time. I'll always prefer women that haunt bookstores, though, even if most girls I've met tend to be from my gym.

Oh, and I'm fucked! Sara got the Mac for Christmas so now I have to come up with some sort of gift that shows how well I know her. I know, I know. It's just that the craziness of the Holidays at work with trying to figure out something to put under the tree has me in a dizzy. To me, a gift is more about showing that I know her and what she likes. Fuck being about spending money to show things. That's just wrong. For her birthday, Sara got diamond earrings, something I thought would be a very big surprise. Ever seen the look on a girl's face after opening a small box where things will suddenly sparkle? Sara never wears the same earrings over and over but those ended up on her ears 4 days straight.

What to get a girl.........gotta think. Money's not much of an issue since I have more than I know what to do with. I'm horrible at picking out what she likes but I did sense a tremble in her wanting a leather jacket. When Sara came here, she showed interest in wanting one. "Too expensive" was what came out of her mouth. I've yet to say those words.

We will not discuss work. It's okay but the Holidays bring about a lot of the bad sides in people. Just today, I got hit on the head by a large rolled up carpet and had to tell everyone that I was okay. 2 people apologized over and over as if I'm going to turn into a mental case where everyone's gonna get taken out. I've played football. I've broken my foot and played both games of a doubleheader in baseball. A giant rolled up carpet is nothing. I've had all the skin on both palms rubbed off thanks to sliding down a rope. Bring it on.

In my curiosity of this dominant and submissive fetish that Sara has, I've taken it upon myself the task of reading Susan Wright's 'To Serve And Submit.' It's just a fictional account of a woman taken from home to be trained as a slave. Now, I've said it over and over that I have a hard time with making a woman my sexual toy so it's possible I can get a small tinkling as to what is so sexy about this. Yes, there are times where I can see why a woman bent over and taken from behind suddenly as being majorly perverted fun. Who doesn't? You're in the kitchen baking cookings and then find yourself propped up on the table as his dick slides in and out while he holds your panties to the side. Don't forget that you have guests that Holiday day. Mom doesn't quite see it necessary to fornicate near the pastries.

Maybe I'll learn a thing or two. Just remember that I've had a majority of my teachings at the hands of nuns. There is that science thing as well. I'm not for causing pain so I'd have a hard time just sliding my dick in without making sure she's wet. Really. I like her like I like my meat, easy to tear and awfully wet.

Bad. I know.

So, to end this, I'm also at that stage where I do my year-end entry. For those of you that are virgins to my thinking, I do a very long entry going over the year that was. My picks on movies, music, sex, and various events that happened to me. Who could forget when Sara's dad caught his daughter giving me head? That's why I'm not going into a discussion over the movie, Superbad. It's soooooooooooooooo good. Must see for 2 reasons: 2 ugly geeks tell each other "I love you" and McLovin. McLovin is a character I will never ever forget because it was played with genuine dorkiness as only a true geek could, trying to buy booze with a fake I.D. and ends up spending the evening in the back of a cop car BUT still gets laid. Great movie and will be on my list of faves to recommend. Happy twats all around.

Time For Beer

"The rearview mirror is smaller than the windshield, and so few people are looking toward the future and don't have as much perspective of the past."

-Feist's dad

I found that quote last week and wrote it down. It's one of my favorites that comes along the lines of my favorite poems, ".....and nobody knows it but me." What impresses me most is how the songwriter, Feist, wrote this down as well after reading a list of her dad's quotes. When you find something good, it's always best to keep it with you in whatever way you can.

Okay, I'm just going to blurt it out. I'm depressed. I'm very fucking depressed as this has been coming on slowly all week. I hate it and how everything I think about has to be about negativity. All I can think about is how much I hate how my parents do nothing with their lives, that Sara has lost interest in me, my manager sees me as an idiot (I accidently pushed a button that stopped productivity), and how much I miss having that one reliable friend nearby to lay things on. You see, all would be good if my best friend was still alive and I didn't have to rely on letting things out here on Blogger.

It's weird how I read a girl's feelings on her ex-boyfriend's suicidal thoughts. Whoo! Some people really let out some shit in their blogs that make me wonder why I am suddenly nodding along with them. You'd think I shouldn't feel this way but all I can see is my bad points. Even in the gym, all I could think about was just curling up underneath my new comforter and disappearing away for many, many hours.

I'll be gone this weekend. While the main thing has to do with seeing Sara, I also have to remember to pick up my cell phone. There is no way I can leave behind a $400 phone where a party is supposed to happen this weekend. There is also no way I am driving just over an hour with no phone to call for help if my luck continues to fuck things up. The way things are going, you'd think I'd dial up Eric Clapton and have him sing 'Layla' instead of getting actual help. Frozen by a song that kept him off-guard. Footage at 11.

So, I'm just too out of it to really care about making a good enough entry in the lines of anyone wondering what I am thinking about. It's the Holidays. You should be depressed while the zombies walk around with shopping bags that only add up to debt up to their eyeballs. I don't like myself when I get this way. Happy twats all around.

Same Panties. New Year

"Who knew that CBS, the old people's channel, would devote a whole hour to tits and shaved beavers each year? Andy Griffith wouldn't even need Viagra thanks to one look at Heidi. He'd quote Dumb And Dumber's 'Check out the fun-bags on that hose-hound!'"

-Me

Dear me, it is snowing. While I do remember the horrors from having over 10-inches last February, these 1 to 2 inches are nice to look at from a warm room. My dogs, as surprised as they were, looked quite confused as their little paws touched down. Anything that gets a rise out of them is good. Rearranging furniture only confuses them.

I'm a Fall type o' guy so Winter tends to make me dread each day. This type of weather has me feeling so icky and slightly depressed. My upper back aches and I count the hours that go by at work. All I want to do is go home. Holidays, be damned! What is so great about spending oodles and oodles of cash just to get people to love you when you feel too run-down from coming home from work?

You can tell how I feel by what kind of workout I had. Nothing seemed to be going right. Sure, I lifted all the weight I normally do but the spirit just wasn't there. The soreness from work on Sunday just reminds me that I need to rest a bit more. But how? I'm the type that needs to be all over the place even if my mind is in bed curled up with nightmares of 2 Girls 1 Cup. I'll let you in on something. I've yet to dream of ice cream thanks to that video.

Oh, and what's up with Bush's obsession with Iran? We get word that there are no nukes but he's going on and on about how evil they are. Yes, they are but aren't they kind of the type of country that just likes to say, 'Nyah-nyah-nyah?' The president of Iran doesn't even call the shots and who cares if he thinks the Holocaust never happened? Our president can't even speak correctly.

As for this year's Victoria's Secret Fashion show........hate the undies because it's always the same thing you see on every girl that bends downward. Give me a girl in Calvins or Ralph Lauren rather than the same old waistband bearing Victoria's Secret logo. Some of their panties are cute and flirty but that's not saying much. Team Pink, what we'd center around those lovely pink parts, has gotten a little boring and too expensive. $45 for a bra!?!

But the show itself was sexy in some ways. To me, I like models that walk the runway all while looking like they are having fun. You're rich! You've got a great ass! You have a super waxed beaver! You never have to worry about 'skid marks' because you get panties for free! Smile, that dirty thong is going in the trash or donated to a questionable homeless person.

If you are under the age of 25, you may recognize the names of my favorite Victoria's Secret models, Adriana Lima, Alessandra Ambrosio, Marissa Miller, and Miranda Kerr. Wow! I'm a total assman that got annoyed at how the camera hardly ever covered my favorite bodypart while tits were popping. Adriana has that face. Alessandra's hair is unbelievable. Marissa is hot with a six-pack of abs from surfing. Miranda is an Aussie so I tend to fall for that face and way of speaking. Never into Heidi or Tyra.

I already told you how much I dreaded work so who wants to hear about how I hurt my foot while waiting to run out of there before heading off to the gym. Instead, it's best to say that I am susceptible to small bribes, cheap ones being in the form of a free t-shirt. Super Bad came out on DVD and Best Buy gave out free ones that look vintage. Excellent. My worries that I won't be able to fit the t-shirt disappeared when I took a look at some major man-cleavage being concealed by thin fabric. Nothing like free advertising that consists of 3 very geeky guys on the chest to show how manly I am as the cold air brings about my nipples. If only people would stop tweaking them and, yes, this happens at work.

So, I'm outta here as I hope to find myself in the adventures of McLovin and 2 boys trying to get head once high school ends. According to them, it takes alcohol in order to get girls to find ugly guys attractive. How come we seem to be okay with calling ugly girls not fuck-able but we find ugly guys okay? We've yet to see a group of women that need paper bags on their heads as they pursue the world for swollen pricks. All's right because we've got McLovin. Happy twats all around.

Look, No Corn!

"If you wanna taste the bright lights, you won't get there for free."

-'Welcome To the Jungle' by Guns N' Roses

If anything in this entry sounds completely out of it, blame it on today's work. I almost received a concussion from things weighing close to 30-pounds falling on my head, not one, not two but more than that in repeated poundings to my head. Somehow, I think it's my need to tell all that working there is incredible (it is) only to curse myself with something making it not. I'm having so much fun I'll be dead in a couple weeks.

I am lucky that things can change when I put thought into them. I've had the hardest time sleeping for years. Too many times times were spent waking up in the middle of the night for no reason but to find a new way to get comfortable. I'm not a pillow fluffer so it lay along the lines of a new sleep position or curling up under more layers. It wasn't til I noticed how nice I slept in Sara's bed, one that consisted of expensive sheets and a sweet, sweet comforter all bought by her mom that I got the idea that I'm missing something here. All is not well there, though, because I have cat allergies to deal with when sleeping over at Sara's.

I slept last night! Whoo! Not only did I sleep but stayed that way til a more healthy time after waking up constantly at different times in the past. The new allergen pillows are so soft that I swear there were points that I almost fell asleep instantly. My body found this so foreign that it didn't allow this so early. I woke up so rested and no morning wood to deal with that you could swear that there were big smiles. Even my dog loves how she can sink into the comforter and make a little nest to curl up in. Dog and boy love comfort and will spend Saturday afternoons in nap-times together.

Now, I have a challenge for you, dear reader. If you are one of those that tends to visit various websites of 'questionable nature' or things considered very odd, you might have heard of the cult following to one of the most disgusting videos ever placed on the 'Net. For a little over a month, I have been reading about various people telling others that the video, 2 Girls 1 Cup, is the most disgusting thing ever. Ever. People have been filmed throwing up after watching it for just a few seconds, even famous people. Porn star, Ron Jeremy couldn't handle it while others have been shown with their jaws dropped to the point that you'd swear they were on the ground.

In my humble opinion, I always found the movie where a woman takes out her bloodied tampon to place in a bowl of water for her and the gay guy to drink. Yes, it was real. Yes, it was foreign but this was done by a female director. Oh, she's controversial by making the audience disgusted enough to talk about what they have been shown. A garden rake slowly inserted in a woman? You'd forget about that after seeing the tampon's contents being drunk.

2 Girls 1 Cup goes way beyond what I could ever think of as disgusting. I may not have thrown up after seeing it but I can tell you that it's super bad. Only those that have kids or large dogs may be able to handle it, a woman takes a massive dump into a cup and eats it along with the woman holding the cup. I was warned. Did I listen? Stick around because the girls then take turns throwing up into each other's mouths.

How far can we go? The Germans are notorious for shit eating porn. I've heard legends about what they've placed in mags. A guy was recently sentenced for having sex with a bicycle while it was parked. There is website that shows all the different things found up people's asses in the emergency rooms across the U.S.. There are people that think us gross for enjoying anal sex. Why not? The ass is used to get rid of, not enjoy sticking things up. Or is it? Who's to say to us what is enjoyable? My girlfriend, Sara, found it fascinating when her best friend showed her videos of guys inserting large things up their asses. If a girl wants to eat shit and people get off on this as a fetish in watching, let her. Oh, look corn and nuts are saved for last! You have been warned.

I'm totally going to get Bald-O back for all the crap he's gotten me involved in by having him watch 2 Girls 1 Cup. He obviously has an anal fixation thanks to wanting to put his finger up a girl's butt, something he has not accomplished in the 2 years he made this known while drunk. It will end here and he might thank me after cleaning himself up afterwards.

So, I am going to leave you here, a moment where you, if you've not seen it, wonder whether you'll take the plunge in seeing 2 Girls 1 Cup. Will you wait til everyone is gone and you have nothing better to do? Better yet, grab your boyfriend and force him to watch. This may end up with you not getting any sex for a week or two. Trust me. Images stick in your head for a long time. This one will be in you for years. Happy twats all around.

You Have Me For Donut

"So, your tits are okay?"

-Me (My mum showed me a paper from the doctor that stated her being breast cancer free. This is my response that had her laughing.)

Jolly good day! Some might not think so due to the weather we've faced since Saturday morning. If you've been paying attention to the weather in news, you should know that the midwest got hit hard by ice and even some snow. Nowhere near as bad as Colorado's 38-inches of snow. It's just that the whole city here got covered in ice thanks to the freezing rain that came around 10am. What would normally have a lot of people out shopping brought about quiet streets. Guess who went out anyway?

But today, besides my mum finding out she's breast cancer free, was nice even if work early in the morning took a bit out of me. As soon as I got home, I slept til late afternoon. Nothing makes you realize more sleep is needed when the dog is snoring as loud as possible.

What I'm still so shocked about is the company I work for. It's amazing! Those that volunteered to come in today at 8am set out to do the usual tiring craziness of work. Fine. What shocked me was how nice we were treated afterwards. Orange juice, nice donuts, and a free t-shirt bearing the company's logo and 'P.R.I.D.E.' on the back. It meant a lot to see the managers serving us, those insane enough to turn up so early on a Sunday. Felt like years since I've had a donut, knowing how critical I am about what I put in me. Lemon cream does make it all worthwhile, though. If the company allows me to take a vacation on my own time and lets me be me, I am damn proud to turn up at work. This isn't for everyone because you've gotta be in shape to do what we do. No wimps allowed.

Ah, but sleep. Oh, so good to feel tired enough to catch up on the lack of it for being so nervous about this morning. It wasn't til 4am that I finally found myself drifting off only to wake up a little over 2 hours later. Satellite TV, little dog, and Mellencamp's 'Pink Houses' playing on VH1Classic made it much easier to mentally prepare myself.

As for the bed, tonight will be the first night my naked body will get to enjoy such nice sheets. They're organic and the cover to the mattress is allergin-free. At over $300, this better be worth it all. A few more pillows to match and I'll be done. 5-Pound Phooey gave me a seal of approval by belching loud in my face. Gonna be a long December.

The shopping came and went. A 1997 movie I only caught a little bit of but have been obsessed with it since I heard about it, Kama Sutra, was found. You don't know how many times I forgot to buy it, be it Best Buy or Borders. Of course, it's a little bit of a creativity taken view on the life of an Indian princess. You know them well, brown people. A lot of my friends find them ugly but I have always held a certain love of Indians, especially those with pierced noses. You don't want to know how many times I watched Bend It Like Beckham just to see Keira Knightley and her Indian friend (went on to E.R.).

I'm hoping Kama Sutra can get my mojo working. Sara was complaining to me that I had a low sex drive on my last visit to Indiana. Is the cold making me not see how wonderful it is to bend a girl and boink her silly? The first night, I did get claw marks all along my back. Sara tends to do that during missionary. Do I see you imagining such a thing? Sometimes, I just like sex to be soft and slow but Sara's more into hard and crazy. Blood? Semen? Pussy fluids? It's all got to come out or the sex aint worth it.

So, I'm outta here as I tell you how weird it is to be wearing a thick hooded sweatshirt as I type this. I've become so used to this abnormal heat that being cold is kind of alien to my skin. 5-Pound Phooey, my little dog that has not had a walk since Friday night, has been threatening me with violence if a chance to check on her p-mail messages is not provided soon. Why do I always get the psychos? Happy twats all around.

If It's Good For the Goose....

"I don't know what you've been told but Eskimo pussy is mighty cold."

-Unknown

I've been scratching my head for the same reason as you, those bikini candid pictures of Jennifer Love Hewitt. When did Baily's Sara let herself go like that!?!

Of all the nights a small amount of stomach flu had to happen, when I was about to venture out to talk shit with the deaf guy I work with. Since he's worked there for 10 years, I'd be able to catch up on rumors, gossip, and trivial shit about everyone he's come into contact with. Would have been great, too. Bowling, a little beer drinking, and being able to relax before my big shopping experience tomorrow.

Yeah, it all reminds me of the movie, Old School, when Frank the Tank turns down a beer bong because he and his new wife are going to Bed Bath & Beyond. I'll be in there as well thanks to a bonus and oodles of money to help me sleep. Oh, new pillows! I'm going to spoil myself rotten all while already having bought the comforter. Have I given you a softer more feminine side of me or what? You should thank 2 ladies for that, my mom and Sara. Sara gave me the urge to really update my need for sleep after workouts. Luxurious sheets have helped tremendously even if various......uh.........fluids have erupted onto them.

Weird. In this house last night, I was watching that documentary on the evils of Wal-Mart. My dad was in his room watching a nudie movie. Shouldn't it be the other way around? Well, let me tell ya that the documentary sure as hell grabbed me in how Wal-Mart does business. A toy from its Chinese factory where people work 14-hour days is made for less than 75 cents only to be sold at Wal-Mart for close to $15. There is more than evil growing in that place where its CEO makes over $29 million but barely donates a cent to charity. What does it take for people to see how wrong Wal-Mart is? It's almost like watching Michael Moore's Sicko but still feeling good about health care.

I'm here for this weekend but Sara's will be for the next. She's throwing her first apartment party and I want to see how it all goes down. Does her roommate clean up after herself? Does the cat make an appearance around strangers or stay under the bed? Since I don't have to drive, can I have more than 3 beers this time? Will it all end up as one large orgy where everyone wakes up with an orgasmic hangover? There's a Christmas tree up so might there be mistletoe?

Finished that book where various female writers play with women that have an inner beast inside. Werewolves or tigers, pretty much all women can behave like that when you bed them the right way. I'm a lion when it comes to Sara making me mad. Just ask her when I hate it how she takes the dominant spot. 200 pounds does not lay there quietly.

What I found fascinating was reading one of the female writer's description of anal sex. It comes about because the woman/tiger cannot become pregnant all thanks to inner blood demon accidently devoured. Long story short. There's a possibility that she'll kill all her bodyguards and lover if an orgasmic turn makes her lose control. Being eaten alive? Literally? Gives a great excuse to give the ol' brown eye a plunge.

I've never had anal sex so I wouldn't know how good/bad or intense it can be. I'll admit to a curiosity here and there but no obsession. Does it feel smoother than pussy? How slow do you thrust? Sara will not allow this. Fingers are fine but cock is too thick for anal. There is an understanding to this because just my little finger was hard enough to get in there. How the fuck do all of you do it!?! Assholes are tight but I can get why people do it. Pussy does, every now and then, get a little boring to explore. Taboo things feel naughty so the blood inside tends to flow faster. In other words, you are a bad girl but it feels so good to have a big hard dick up yo' ass.

So, with all that in mind, I must flutter off to make my list for tomorrow's shopping experience. Stomach's okay for now. Money's all loaded up. The little dog has been walked til tomorrow. No work til Sunday morning. Saturday is all mine and I'm gonna sleep well. I'm gonna need a beer or I'll sound like the girlyness in me has been allowed to speak. Happy twats all around.

Smiling Because Of Rocks

"One of the disadvantages of wine is it makes a man mistake words for thoughts."

-Samuel Johnson

Stop me if you've heard this before. Another day has gone by and another set of people have made it known that they think I have some manly pecs. I am the male version of Pamela Anderson. Only I can allow a girl to tell me that I have bigger tits than she while smiling.

I know. You read it all the time here where various people think themselves original in telling me that I have a very large chest. Gee, I'm pretty sure bench-pressing does this. Oops, secret's out! You'd think it is some alien concept on what I've done to myself or that I wish such discussion. My tits are my own business only I use this for something else, not ego.

Laughter is what I'm after. There's that warm feeling when someone takes the time to pat my chest and tell me how impressive it is. Meetings before work give others time for this. The largest co-worker I have is around the 225 mark while the second is near this. Me being at the 3rd largest is kind of odd and gives me a different sort of job. Since I am a little faster with not quite as much weight to throw around, I deal with the part of the job the requires such effort. Believe me, I am very thankful for this because the kind of weight constantly lifted by the big guys would only make me angrier. It would appear to me that my gym-face comes out and work becomes a moment to put myself to the test.

But what gives another man the right to pat my chest like he knows me well? One of the personal trainers did just that after telling me how impressed he was with how much weight I was doing on the pec-dec flies, all of it and then some. Do girls just go up to each other and compare their tits? Reminds me of how each time a guy tells me how impressive my chest is I just say, "Quite staring at my D-cup." Usually, they get the joke. Usually.

FYI: Yes, Sara likes to play with my pectoralis muscle. Just for giggles, she'll feel me up or put her hands underneath my shirt to rub the sensitive skin. Oh, how I love that.

There's a fact book I just picked up from Barnes & Noble that got my attention. The cover is green with a dog dressed up as Yoda. You'll find it in the new hardback section if you wish to join me in my need to read about various things all over the world. A special section is given to the sexuality in the animal kingdom. Me being me, I usually think that animals have it quite nicely. No STDs, orgies, alpha male is most likely the first to choose his mate, and if you can't find a suitable gal, go gay without politicians screaming at you.

Hippos, on the other hand, have a behavior that I find quite amusing but gross. In order to get the male's attention, the female hippo shits and pisses while flinging both with her tail. Apparently, the smell gets 'em going because we all know that males love poo where he'll take her into shallower water for a good mounting. It's here that the female must fight to keep her head above water while the male's hard work is being done. Drowning by copulation is possible.

Penguins use rocks. If the female likes the rock given to her by the male, she'll insist they go fuck behind a bush. Same thing with humans except we have a great place to help out the guys, Tiffany's. Anything else and it's just a blowjob.

It's been a pretty good day. My co-workers have made me feel like I am completely in their group. The deaf guy wants me to come bowling with him on Friday. The tiny married girl actually takes the time to watch me do the I'm-going-home-now dance. My manager is getting me a free t-shirt with the company's logo. I've got one large ex-linebacker to talk football with. The girl with the big tits shows signs of liking me. My bonus will be picked up tomorrow and I get a raise in December. If only my body didn't feel like someone hit me with paint-ball pellets, things would be perfect.

So, I'm outta here as I make my monthly financial arrangements in regards to what I am spending on. Most is going to the gym, seeing as my membership is almost up. Insurance is taking another chunk. The rest is going to bedding and a few impulse items. Maybe Banana Republic to get some more pin-stripe button downs. Life is good. I don't have to find rocks. Happy twats all around.

When In Doubt, Whip It Out

"Old tin-lizzy,
do it til you're dizzy!
Give it all ya got til you put it out of your misery!"

-"Rag Doll" by Aerosmith

Leaves. Leaves all over the fucking place is what I deal with each night after walking 5-Pound Phooey. Each time I get home from the gym, I take her on a walk where it's pretty much just the two of us in the park. The damn things cling to her and wrap around my little furry buddy and then end up on my floor. I like a nice clean floor, dammit.

So, yeah, you get an idea as to how my day/night goes. First is work and then to the gym. A walk is definite or I'll get growled at. You'd be surprised at how a 12-pound female Yorkshire Terrier can be pretty persuasive at getting her way. How is it that people laugh at the fact that I tell them I have to go home to walk a dog or I'll get shit in my shoes?

Okay, this had me laughing. Quite possibly, I could be a little disgusted since it's not something I wish to come across myself. A man put up 31 videos of himself masturbating in various stores like Dillard's, Barnes & Noble, and Wal-Mart. I know that Barnes has 'Playboy' and 'Penthouse' while Wal-Mart carries a fine selection of very in-your-face undergarments for the large rednecks in the family. But Dillard's!?! You could bring in a stack of porn or two-way mirrors for the dressing rooms but still not be able to get it up.

It's true, though. A man did put up a large assortment of videos of himself going at it with himself. The nerve! What's even better is the large assortment of comments from people that have seen the videos. Women take into account the man's attractiveness or mention that they'd watch as long as he doesn't make lewd comments. The men, on the other hand, want to see him make a game of this by jerking off in as many stores as possible before getting caught. Can you believe this guy just whipped it out in the frozen food section!?! Does the smell of fish remind him of anything, like scents from long lost lovers?

Barnes & Noble is well-known for having to send its workers into the store's various stacks in order to catch various people masturbating. It's true. One time, I came into the restroom to find a guy jerking off in a stall. How could I tell? There's certain motions we guys do when we are forcing ourselves to cum under great stress. Plus, he had an issue of Playboy since the subscription cards fell out onto the floor. I'll admit to not finding this whole thing funny no matter the old saying:

"When you've gotta cum, ya gotta cum."

It's as old as time. When people find that playing in their 'danger zone' feels good, they go for it. I'm not quite certain that a girl, while shopping, would sit down to watch while some unknown guy decides to squirt in the frozen food section. If it was a girl that suddenly pulls up her skirt and rubs herself silly, a crowd of very wide-eyed boys would circle around to offer help or just watch. The fascination with pussy flows through our veins while the sight of a stranger's cock is not quite as appealing. Girls, at least most of them, enjoy their mate's more. I'm pretty sure Sara would make sure she has a comfortable seat when presented with a young male masturbating himself to ecstasy.

My opinion? I've always found it fascinating to watch women diddle themselves silly. Of course, Sara's the only girlfriend that has done that since the others were too shy or I just forgot to even share that fantasy. You'd be surprised but I did study in college. It's just that I don't know how I'd react to a girl just suddenly taking a large zucchini or various vegetables for a good one-on-one session. Most of my curiosity would be based on wanting to know how rough she likes things inside. Is she multi-orgasmic? Does she squirt? Put me down for that because I've always wanted to see if this liquid really is magical or just piss. Other than all that, I'd probably show a side of me you never thought possible, slightly embarrassed. It's always best to leave a girl alone when it comes to her veggies.

Amazingly, I signed up for work this weekend..........morning work. I hate waking up that early but I did mention in the past that I'd like to do it because it's so much fun. Such a liar I can be! Getting paid to work out is good, though. More on that later.

So, I'm outta here as I find another day endeth where I need gas and a good long foot massage. Friday's almost here! I'm hoping I take the bedding shopping nice and slow so I get the right things. Gonna sleep well. Gonna sleep real well. Now, please, take the time to masturbate your sexy girly selves after reading this. Send a tape of this session if you might like me to critique your technique. Surprise me. If you can use the stick shift in the most intimate way, you are a goddess. Happy twats all around.