Friday, November 30, 2007

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.

Thursday, November 29, 2007

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.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

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.

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Poopin' Is Easy

"I'm the goddamn Batman."

-Batman

Wanna know a secret? If you've ever had a day/night where your stomach is so fucking full but you just cannot rid yourself of the contents, there is help. I've learned after years and years of trying various forms of sit-ups that there are 2 types that can help you build one solid tight tummy. The only side effect is that you're gonna need to poop shortly after. What's better than knowing you'll walk around feeling super skinny and having a stomach that people will admire? According to what I see in the world today, beauty is everything. Idiots are awesome!

Oh, and, yes, I did show Sara my secret sit-ups only to find that her abs were not only getting tighter in 2 days but the pain from soreness of doing a new exercise was a bit much. I like pain but barely ever feel it these days.

My dad and I were talking about various TV shows we love on satellite. An agreement was reached on Showtime's The Tudors, Weeds, Californication, and Dexter. When I pressed on with the addition of the E! Channel's The Girls Next Door I got confusion. It wasn't until I explained that it was that show about Hugh Hefner's girlfriends that he finally realized what I was talking about. C'mon, you watch that show, too! It's addictive as fuck to see 3 girls with no brains find 'love' with an old guy that has money. Think about it. Bridget, Holly, and Kendra would never be able to hold down jobs if it wasn't for the creator of Playboy Magazine.

I'm not in denial over the fact that I find The Girls Next Door as addictive as crack. What annoys me is how I let myself enjoy following the adventures of truly stupid show us just how stupid a person can be. Makes me feel a whole lot smarter when I have days where I cannot believe I did what I did in those 24 hours. Just listen to Bridget, a girl with a degree in communications but cannot talk without saying these words: "Everything was so beautiful" or "Everything was so gorgeous." Just where did Bridget get this degree? Sara and I would like to know.

Kendra is.........well, something I have been lucky in not encountering as many times as everyone else has. Sure, I've met a few retarded people but they always seem to be smarter than her. I do not know why Hugh Hefner keeps this girl around. Could it be how Kendra never seems to care about her actions and how they play off of others? She's got a rockin' bod as seen in the uncensored version of The Girls Next Door but I'd still kick her out.

Holly is interesting because she's so calculating on her expectations on how she's going to get Hefner's money. Oh, she's so good even I slightly believe Holly would sleep with any old geezer. Sara and I agree that she's the most interesting girl on The Girls Next Door. That's not saying too much. All you need is to be able to talk, something the one with a communications degree cannot do in all the chances she gets.

Yeah, it's pretty sad that I'm addicted to The Girls Next Door. Well, at least it's not Boston Legal, something I have to see the last 5 minutes of because my parents watch it like it's the best thing around. James Spader in drag was THE shit, though. It's just that everyone I know watches The Girls Next Door no matter how stupid it is. Women watch it so it can't just be about 3 girls with large tits running around. Sara laughs at how they cannot pronounce anything correctly when the girls went to Paris. I, for some strange reason, was shocked when Kendra, el Retard-O, thought that having a grill was the best thing ever.

Let me tell you something. Going back to the gym after being away for almost a week is a great feeling. Biceps and lower back worked overtime tonight. Of course, it helped that the night was quite cold but the pump was raging so well in my veins that I didn't wish to go home. It felt so good. This seems to be something I need each day or I get into a funk that brings about anger and self-hatred all in the form of a raging shit storm. It's nice to have abs but it's more about the feeling that comes in getting them.

More weekend? While the bowling time of 6 hours wore me the fuck out, Sunday night was nice to relax away from it. We went to Sara's parents' house for a taco dinner. Of course, that also means football, an emotional game between the Chicago Bears and Denver Broncos. This involves me being laughed at when I start yelling at the TV screen. Bears won so all was well in this little mind that tends to keep a lot in. I miss playing football.

Saw Die Hard 4 or Live Free Or Die Hard, as it's called in some places. Loved it but found it so ludicrous with an excess of action. We loved John McLane because he was a guy that could get hurt all while being a hero. Here, in Die Hard 4, he's now some kind of super being that can land on a jet, dodge flying cars, and kick the ass of a tough hot Asian girl all in 1 day. Like I said, ludicrous but fun to see all this. They kind of wasted the bad guy by not using him for much other than to say threats back and forth. Remember Hans, the first Die Hard baddie? Computer nerds just don't do as well as Hans.

Of course, the weird thing is that I watched Die Hard 4 with Sara, her parents, and a guy that used to work for the CIA. Good guy. There's something about knowing a person that has seen how the world really runs. Dinner table conversations get a whole lot more interesting.

So, I'm a gonna leaveth ya here. I've got Skinwalkers paused in my DVD player. Yes, that means I'm watching a werewolf movie where there are good ones fighting things out with the bad ones. Why is it that I find myself willing to get my claws out for the baddies? Even in Star Wars, I always knew that I'd work with Darth Vader because the Rebels didn't know how to dress. Happy twats all around.

Monday, November 26, 2007

Songs In Key Of Sadness

"To those that wait in line for hours just to take in a store's special sale for that day and limited time, their so called 'strength in Jeezus' is really just a ploy to worship their true gods, Macy's, Circuit City, Best Buy, Mall, and Hustler."

-Me

I'm a bit depressed so bear with me on this one. It all started after a conversation with Sara in bed last night. It left me with questions here and there about us. While she said she's still happy with me, I can't help but wonder. "I don't deserve you" came up to start all this but ended a little too abrupt for my tastes. Just as well because it was late.

I can admit that I was taken aback by Sara's telling me she doesn't deserve me. In her words, I am perfect, perfect boyfriend material, I am assuming. This all happened after a small amount of tongue lashing on her part over something small. Sara did tell me she has a small amount of bi-polar within so who knows. I was too tired to care at that point and just lay on the bed while she dealt with a bill that suddenly came up and gave her major issues with the computer of hers.

Then again, it could be the weather, rainy icky weather. Getting up at 7:30am to find rain dripping down as I walked with Sara to drop her off at work. Mind you, I was supposed to be sleeping since I had a drive home and then on to work problem of my own. This was told to her in the bowling alley so I don't know if I'm forgotten easily or something else came up. Barely made it through work thanks to being so dreadfully tired all day. I always put Sara first so there are times I wonder when I.........oh, well.

That's a big issue, conversations that end a little too fast but not able to be dealt with til weeks later. Long story short. I'm not sure if I'm depressed over that or the various things around or above me. I hate you, too, for sitting there reading this and feeling like you've got better things to do than kick the can in the street with me.

Happiness can come in the form of materialism but only slightly. With my bonus on Friday, I am going to shop majorly for that last amount of bedding. I love it that work has afforded me even more things to take my mind off of my own issues. Girls aren't the only ones that love projects. Give me the chance to design a place that is important to me, my bed, and I'll be a happy motherfucker. The luxury of Sara's nice sheets and comforter gave me this idea. Who doesn't want to slumber away in something that helps sleep feel so much better?

So, this weekend? Not a very thrilling one. Sara and I were too busy thanks to the bowling tournament. 6 fucking hours in a bowling alley where women of various sizes (think Lane Bryant shoppers) pushed balls down lanes all in hopes of this being the exercise good enough to burn away those candy bars eaten previously. Some were cool, though, until you see what years of smoking can do to their skin. My vice? One cold beer as I tried not to think about how many people can fit in a pair of panties that the largest woman was wearing.

This time of year does bring out the monster in me. Peppermint ice cream is only sold at this time of year and, if you read my old blog, you know I am weak for it. Sitting in Sara's parents' downstairs while rooting on the Chicago Bears to win has me holding a bowl of the beloved stuff. I'm so sad and pathetic. I do not care.

So, I'll talk about more later. I really need to go to bed, seeing as this weather has me pretty damn down. You can tell because I haven't hit the gym since last Wednesday. I know. Pretty scary stuff, folks. What do I know. Nobody loves me anymore. Happy twats all around.

Thursday, November 22, 2007

Ratatouille Is Good

"If you're pretty ignorant when it comes to history, ya know what? Thanksgiving isn't too bad."

-Me

Woke up this morning. Got myself a gun. No, actually, I didn't get myself a gun but I did grab a little dog and haul her little ass into my room. It's her sworn duty to look out the window and keep tabs on the neighborhood. The watch program generally begins at 9am but today I slept a little more than usual. Barking started around 10:15am.

I'm packing because the inevitable has arisen. I'll be on my way to Indiana tomorrow after work. All the shirts, undies, and pants are ready to go. Nudity is not an option when there is a very conservative (and annoying) roommate involved. Bare buns just don't happen because she is always there. Sara has told me that she's fine with me walking down the hall naked but I'm not doing it. The socks are staying on, too. And, yes, those need to be washed before I take off.

As for this weekend, there is bowling, a lot of bowling. Sara's mom signed her up for both types of league tournaments, singles and team. Ugh. That means I will have to watch various types of ladies and robots (what I call the ugly mean old ladies that toss the bowling ball in the same motion) do battle with each other. Some take this type of thing very seriously while others just sit and enjoy the smell of cigarette smoke all day. This also means I have to see ugly Christmas sweaters where bells hang in inappropriate places. If anyone walks around with mistletoe on their crotch, I will declare all old ladies to be fun perverts trying to bring back the bush.

As for me, today, I read a few short stories from a book I picked up long ago but forgot about. What is this? Suddenly, I go through Sara's 'homework' for me, a book on sexual fantasies for couples. Now, I'm humming through short werewolf stories where the dominant seems to always overtake the submissive female werewolf. Dishes shatter. Walls crack. Werewolves are just too damn strong with their testosterone neediness for sex. Of course, I get off on this stuff an helped Thanksgiving Day go by a bit faster.

I don't know about you but picking up various books I had been planning to read is kind of weird. It sends out some type of vibe that I must clean even more thoroughly than before. Let there be no dust on my shelves, lava lamps, or around the home theater equipment. Even 5-Pound Phooey thinks it weird that I'm all over the place with a Swiffer after sweeping up the leaves her little hairy butt brings to my room.

'On the Prowl' is alright, nothing special. I tend to like my werewolf books to have a little edge to them. Show me something new. No more of this thing were werewolves seem to suddenly know the perfect cuisine. You'd swear that when thinking of this type of thing there would be caribou torn apart in a wide open portion of land. Nope. 'On the Prowl' has them in Chicago where barely anyone can afford to look at the menu itself. To me, it'll always be best when the author has me feel like I'm running alongside a wolf on the hunt.

Not that today was all bland and avoiding the usual conversations at the dinner table. Ever heard of Pixar's Ratatouille? You've probably seen the ads where a cartoon-like chef is forced to cook for the elite in Paris only it's all done under the tutoring of a rat named Remy. Loved it! Loved it! Ratatouille had charm, wit, and fun where there were plenty of surprises not done in the usual fashion of cartoon movies. Yes, there was a message (rats are our friends and it was a flea that started the Bubonic Plague) but it was done so sweetly. Pixar has the ability to upstage Disney's usual crap by taking creative characters and making you feel for them. I liked them all, even the evil critic named Ego.

Somewhat hidden is the little knowledge about food. Don't eat garbage or let your body consume such shit. It'll become shit. McDonald's and all those fast food places might be nice once in a while but it's better to enjoy real cooked food. Sara and I have this in our heads, that even if it's a little more expensive, your body is worth taking care of instead of putting stuff that glows in the dark into it. I'm certainly not perfect because the best burger I've ever tasted had onion rings with barbecue sauce on top. It's that fucking good and only eaten once in a while. Fast food is for the idiots that can't clean up after themselves while their fucking kids scream as they urinate on themselves. Let the kids enjoy lead-filled toys and piss drenched bouncy balls so that they die off faster.

So, I am outta here as I am happy to not have the horror of reporting to work at 4:30am like I did 4 years in a row. Fuck that. No Black Friday for me either. Mine will take place next Friday as I get my bonus to wreck havoc in my bedroom. I'm spoiling myself rotten in bedding so I'll sleep better and think that I'm in Sara's expensive sheets all snug and warm. I'll bet you are picturing me naked right now with a little dog nipping at my nose to wake me up. Shows creativity but go smack yo' boyfriend's ass or something. Happy twats all around.

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

I Love Pussy, Too!

"Ya know, it's always at this time that I wonder if turkeys will suddenly rise up and suddenly overtake us for all the genocide/slaughter that we do to them each year. A bird with a big butt is not something to be taken lightly when it comes to negotiations during such a thing. Mark my words."

-Me

Windy. Rainy. Those are two words you'll need to know when it comes to today. It rained all fucking day and this is further shown by the pond's large overflow of water up to the bridge. 5-Pound Phooey and I walk over that daily with barely anything to notice. Now, I could drop my hand down and watch ripples.

Work was work. Nothing major since the bad weather and the fact that everyone showed up had me leaving earlier. Yesterday was hell so it was nice to leave into the night's nasty rain much earlier than usual. Occasionally, I watch it from the docks, a place you'll find me muttering to myself.

So, without further ado, what am I thankful for...........

1). My amazing health. Very rarely do I get sick. Nothing but a cold is all I get but it's always a bad one to the point that I should be in bed. People scoff at this when I mention a 'cold' keeps me from performing. Mind you, I function just fine with other ailments and even worked out with a broken foot. It's no wonder I absolutely hate colds but would welcome a hangover or something else where boogers keep me from being able to sleep. Down with boogers and snot!

2). Parents. I read at a constant rate how so many bloggers hate their parents. Mine are genuine and take into account my future. Sure, I have issues with them but they've allowed me to be me. If I suddenly turned gay or decided that being goth was for me, my mother would just get used to it eventually. I'd love to see her react to me wearing eye shadow, though, since my parents can be fun.

3). Blogger. My thoughts, frustrations, and issues are laid out here for anyone to read. I'm an open book for judgement by y'all. Sometimes, it all makes me look like a mess. Aren't we all on bad days? There will be a time for me to quit, though.

4). Sara. Wouldn't dare forget the girl that has helped me become a much better person. When I look back, I could swear that I was a mess back then. Sara's helped me rethink my personal style and to explore things more sexually, namely get some damn dirty fantasies. Most guys are afraid to even mention something dirty to their girlfriends but mine's all about showing me it all. No one I know has a girlfriend that will ask how he feels about an orgy, threesomes, or whether he wants to see her asshole. Be open and be fun in bed.

5). My new job. Of course, I have issues with it but I like it so much better than my old one. I cannot believe how much I put up with because it is so nice not being on edge around a nasty boss, idiotic co-workers, and people that have no respect for others. This place has afforded me a lifestyle where I can spoil Sara a little bit more. While I could do without the guy that poops his pants, I'd take him over my old stinky co-worker any day. Could smell him many aisles away. That's not good.

6). Push-ups. Want to get rid of a cold very fast? Want to tighten up your triceps? A good set of 100 push-ups will get yo' body back into it.

7). Sara's big bed. I fall asleep. I fall asleep very, very well. So well, that Sara says I snore big time. Funny how these times are when I feel more rested upon waking up.

8). Bald-O. Called him up 2 days ago. One of the best feelings is of knowing you are missed and need to get your tiny white ass down there to drink beer all while talking about how there is only one man so obsessed with sticking his finger up a girl's ass that Sara finds this so funny. Got it all?

9). My sexual desires. I've been on a roll lately in bedding Sara. As with everything, we still have issues but things have also been good. I've learned to dominate a little more by holding her down on the bed or up against the wall. Sometimes, I'll flip her over and fuck her doggy style when she least expects it. Why did it take so long for me to realize the power in this body that needs to be used? Some girls need this to make them wetter. I get bitten a lot, too, but it's clear that the taboo event of receiving a blowjob while she's peeing is hot. Women get bored sitting there, just sayin'.

10). 5-Pound Phooey. My little partner in crime is more than just a little dog. She's a pocket full of attitude that can snuggle right next to me during her nap. Hell, 5-Pound Phooey was very respectful of Sara during her nap that she said hi with a gentle lick on the nose after chewing out a dog on her walk prior. It's no wonder wet rainy days are fun when I get above her and pull her ears with my mouth.

That's all for today. Ladies, enjoy dodging intrusive questions from family members on when you are going to marry the man you are living in sin with. Guys, stop ignoring the girls when football is on or make sure Grandpa is wearing pants at the table. Life goes on as I wish I had a larger family. Happy twats all around.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Kids In Da Pants?

"It's all about the element of surprise when being the proud owner of some darklings in your pants."

-Me

I'm guessing that I will be the first to say this. After having to read various entries by bloggers, I have come to the conclusion that I am quite possibly the only person not to have shit his pants. Yo, what's up with that?

We have a guy at work that gives me quite a few laughs every now and then. The simple reason is that on 2 occasions this guy has dropped a load in his pants. I'm not kidding. This is something new to me because I thought I'd have faced it completely when it came to people emitting foul odors. Sweat? Been there and could smell my co-worker many aisles away. Urine? Drunk girls cannot wipe. Farts? I'm a guy and all guys know guys that fart. But shit? Damn, it's all about me wondering if he makes squishy sounds while walking.

So, I must say to all of you that are traveling to meet up with parents over Thanksgiving that you should take the time and have fun with it. Having sex in various states could make it a whole lot better. Just sayin'. I mean, whoever is forced to drive long hours on the interstate should be allowed some kind of incentive by pulling over for some much needed roadhead (Sara's idea, by the way). Just lean back and adjust the seat til for him to get his pecker out. Ladies can lay back on the hood or be fucked against a tree. The truly crazy would pull into a suburb and fuck in an unknown person's yard. Beats waiting in line at the airport, no?

To be honest, I was kind of scared when Sara mentioned, as a joke, giving me roadhead. Nice idea but my parents installed in me to be extremely careful on driving the interstate. How my girlfriend was able to give me a handjob while driving is beyond me. Getting sucked off while driving takes a bit more concentration so I may lose it when I squirt on the steering wheel or even in her mouth. Not good to pull up to the parents' house and insist on kleenex right then and there. Even parents might not think it's 'hair gel' anymore.

Work took a bit more out of me tonight when we stayed later than usual. Loved the second wind I got but hated how I could see the night's sky. It's just not my thing to see when driving home because it feels like I'll have to be ready for work tomorrow already.

Things were mighty heavy and this is known by the large pump I'm getting in my back muscles. Love the new body as it improves each week. Hate the tiredness. Yes, there are moments I stand there looking at the muscles new harder look as I step into the bathtub. What the hell has happened to me? Could sex get any better when I pin Sara to the bed with even stronger arms? The weird thing is she hates muscles but enjoys having a guy dominate her majorly. It's one or the other and I like feeling physically strong.

As for my 'homework,' I'm still reading that book Sara loaned me. Here and there, I'll wonder how people come up with sexual fantasies like this. I mean, these are by real people and edited by Sara's favorite sex researcher (she sent a picture to show me being bitten). The one that comes to mind is a husband sending his wife into a rest stop off a highway. This is a male rest stop and the stall's doors have holes in them.

You see where I'm getting at? Glory holes? Oh, every man's fantasy, to find a hole, stick his penis in, and find amazing wet ecstasy from a woman's mouth. The wife will work with many, many men at once by stroking some off as she sucks another. What gets the guy even hotter is knowing a guy that's just taken a long piss just suddenly puts it into the hole to be sucked off. I've yet to come across a girl that would suck my cock right after I've pissed. Play with, yes. Sucked, no. Sara has no interest in 'water sports' of any type, thankfully.

There's plenty more fantasies to read and, no, I'm not judging. It's just that a lot of these things are not my cup of tea. I don't think any of my friends are into this sort of stuff. There is Bald-O and his hopes to one day stick his finger up a girl's butt. I'm sure he'll smell it and inhale that almighty aroma of ass. Why doesn't he just stick it up his own?

So, I'm outta here as I rest off a long workday. No deaf guy. No goofiness. It's just us in the muck and my friend's need to make me laugh by making bodybuilder pose-downs. Girls can be fun. I'm getting bigger and they feel a need to point it out to me. Happy twats all around.

Monday, November 19, 2007

Do I Sound Crazy

"I divide my nights off between trying to kill myself and setting fire to other homes. I spent six years in prison and six years in France. I preferred prison."

-Mae Syzlak of Simpson

Lost my mind as to how to start this. Here I sit completely free of any thoughts while all day I raged with so many things, good and bad. Why do I suddenly forget everything all because of the chaos that Thanksgiving brings?

Let's get one thing straight. I don't like turkey. This has become a gradual thing where I suddenly realize that a Thanksgiving dinner all comes down to how well the green bean casserole performs in my mouth. Wait a minute. That almost sounds like food is doing sensual porno on my tongue. We could leave it there because I am instantly in love with mushroom soup being used as a sauce after devouring a couple rolls. It's not Thanksgiving if Mum doesn't overdo the food preparations as she does every year.

Of course, that also brings up my hatred for having a small family. Loads of cars will be pulled into driveways but not ours. Just my parents and a friend of theirs, a total geek that kind of takes the fun out of things by always looking at the downside. Gee, I wonder why he's single and the girl ran off with his concert tickets instead of taking him. Let that be a lesson to you, those that see no reason to take care of your bodies and feel the need to tell everyone how a computer works.

I've always wanted one of those uncles that has a roving eye for the teenage girls and insists you pull his finger. Why do these types of people only live with the people I kind of despise? Even those that can lean to the side and fart like it's nothing while the turkey slices are passed can work in this house.

Work was hell thanks to my body temperature going sky high all of a sudden. Why, I will never know. It's just that physically demanding shit does not suit well when you feel like throwing up. Did I give up? No, but I mumbled a lot to myself and probably looked like a Jeezus freak that feels as if hell is ready for him thanks to all that hidden cut-out porn found in a size-11 shoe.

At least, the deaf guy was fun to talk to again. I'm getting lucky that he's been able to work on my side of the facility. Debates on bowling scores and various shits and giggles here and there. That's me when I need to find some kind of enjoyment while I ride out feeling like I'm gonna barf on everyone's shoes. Time does pass very fast, though. It's just, for me, I know I've still got more labor to do once I hit the gym and listen to Slutwatcher go on and on about his beloved Dallas Cowboys. At least, football season takes away his urges to look up girls' shorts.

Right now, I've got homework. A while back, Sara had me take her book edited by a sex writer/web site and look over various fantasies. It's only now that after cleaning my bookshelf off that I find it. Amazing that I just finished Stephen King's The Mist, huh?

Basically, Sara wanted me to look over other couples' fantasies and get an idea as to other things to try in bed. The kicker is that these are not the normal types found in Penthouse or even in a fictional story found in Playboy. You'll have a guy being anally raped by his wife and her college friend because some enjoy being humiliated. One guy was forced to wear his wife's panties and rub himself silly til he came in them. One couple decided to go dancing only to end up driving around as the guy watched his wife suck off another guy in the back of their car. Again, these types of things I've never thought of nor would I wish to attempt.

Yes, the threesome does come up between Sara and I. While she is slightly hesitant to allow another girl to touch my cock, looking is fine with her, she does show curiosity in eating out a girl. Joy! I'd love to teach her and even lick with her. Not only would that drive me wild but to see us both make a girl lose herself in pleasure would be the best thing ever. Freakin' sweet! You'd have to have a very strong relationship to attempt this type of thing because jealousy almost always rears its ugly head.

Sara told me that I make her feel safe and less crazy-like after almost 3 years together. I'm pretty sure the book I've been reading on sexual fantasies written by real couples was given to me a while back. Things do kind of change after being together for a while. Back then, Sara and I had some major issues that have finally worked themselves out. Funny to wake up in the morning the last time I was over there and hear her suddenly ask me how I feel about orgies. Yes, I was groggy but I'm pretty sure a part of my brain was asking: "What time!?!"

I'll get into that another time. Right now, I'm a bit worn out again thanks to so many calories being emptied from me. The manager asked if anyone wants to come in to work on Sunday mornings.......early. Let this be a lesson to you. I may not always enjoy the craziness of work. Give me a good manager and a fun team, well, I'll be there. It's possible that 2 Sundays next month will find me wearing myself out. Hoo-rah! I love it in the muck! Happy twats all around.

Sunday, November 18, 2007

My House

"Winter's coming. The ladybugs keep wanting to come home."

-Me

Not exactly a very happyish day. Our city got its statistics straight when it comes to our homeless problem. It's high, real high. According to the reporter, the main issue is on affordable housing because of the students taking up so many apartments. There is nothing funny to say about this.

The one thing that bugged the hell out of me is the person interviewed on her homelessness. She's a woman with 3 kids all by different fathers. Idiot. This is not about color but I'm growing tired of people producing kids when they don't have jobs that can afford them such a lifestyle. Yeah, it's also kind of typical here, black and can't spell. As much as it was mean for the reporter to end the segment with the door closing (It said "Welcome To Ur Home"), it's the plain truth that idiots somehow continue to be parasites. "Think before you fuck" mean anything to you?

So, I'm a bit grumpy. Big fucking deal. It's my goddamn blog where I tell it like it is. Wonder why your kids are growing up as whores? Look at their toys and underwear. Thongs for 10-year-olds!?! Toys where the main idea is to look good!?! Kids bringing guns to school only to be made to look like heroes as more kids copy!?! Parents pretending to be a girl's friend, tricking her, and then causing this depressed girl to kill herself!?! Kids are too fat!?! Ever been out to eat and feel the need to get into an argument with a teen or adult that treats the waitress horribly bad!?! Since when does a kid need a cell phone!?! I never got lost or had a molester try to tickle my pickle.

While reading today's paper, I took notice to an address located nearby this house. Mind you, this is the section that tells of the bad stuff happening in this town. Nearby, a kid brought a gun to my old high school. I've seen this kid because I walk by his house with 5-Pound Phooey. Remember when I said that their are a bunch of black teens that sit on the porch and stare at me when I walk by without my shirt on? Well, one of them is the kid with the gun. Probably thinks I'm gay because I walk a little dog while showing off the arms.

The point is that I feel kids and teens get off too easy these days. Parents don't have time to discipline nor do they feel they can. Spanking? Gawd, I got a lot of it and I think it's gone like today's wind. When kids watch shows on MTV like Cribs or Sweet Sixteen, I think they get the feeling that this is all for them. Parents should bow down and give them everything while being too tired to say no. That's my feeling, at least.

So, that's all I have to say. I'm bored with blogging and keep feeling like I'm having to force myself here. Just tell me I'm a racist prick that hates kids. Happy twats all around.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

The Mistake?

"You have to systematically create confusion. It sets creativity free. Everything that is contradictary creates life."

-Salvadore Dali

I'm or was a problem child in one area. It's my occasional fulfilling need to be obsessive here and there. When I get into something, I really go for it but will suddenly discard it all out of boredom. Give me time and I'll pick it back up again. That's the way I am with books. For a month or two, I'll be found reading like it's an addiction only to go months later with no interest. You could also say I have that problem with bagels, too.

Obviously, I worked on Stephen King's 'The Mist' and found myself loving it. It's not my usual kind of horror story that thrills me. That would be anything with werewolves, demented vampires, and weirdos that hold my interest with cunning abilities not matched by ordinary human thinking. Of course, if you were to have all those things combined into one book, I'd get my hands on it super fast and hope illustrations are added to make my mind wonder all day. I'm such a sucker when warped into characters that are flawed in a good way only to bring forth the hero in them when a werewolf stirs up trouble.

The Mist starts off the usual way, introduce the characters and make you want to see them through their lives, namely a man and his son sent to the grocery store. While I enjoy Stephen King books, this is not one of his best. C'mon, a grocery store where 80 people are held inside all thanks to a mysterious mist that's engulfed the town. Every now and then, a few people end up food for whatever it is making noises out there at night. Unfortunately, I have to spoil one thing. I'm curious as to what they are going to do with the giant spiders in the pharmacy. Sorry. I'm big on arachnids. Hopefully, this movie due out soon will contain some surprises all while staying as faithful as possible. I just know they'll ruin the 'ending' and even reveal where some of those monsters come from.

The good Stephen King movies are Cujo (dog and car), The Shining (man and hotel), Salem's Lot (man and vampires), and The Running Man (man versus game show tycoon). There might be one more but that's all that I can come up with off the top of my head. It's doubtful that The Mist will do well because the premise is sorta loopy and just might tend to drag a bit. I'm not saying it's bad but just not up to par with something that could hold my interest for over 45 minutes. I still cannot believe King wrote The Running Man and find myself forgetting this until I see it on the shelf where his titles are kept.

So, how have I been? Ever found yourself waking up only to feel like you need more sleep? That was my day, shuffling my feet around the house, reading, and then back to bed. Slept til almost 1:30pm. Even 5-Pound Phooey didn't have a problem with this because she came over and slept at my side. It's either work's craziness or the weather that's making me so sleepy. Love the workout I get that adds onto my gym insanity but there's only so much a body can take.

There's really not much to talk about. While I am planning on heading out to Indiana next weekend thanks to stores out there carrying what mine ran out (hint: think nude photography and Tanya Chalkin's calendar), my obsessions take up too much of my time. When I start a book that gets to me because I want to know more, it's over. My day is done because I will only find that my time is spent with a glass of ice water and the book. Yes, I still pee and walk my dog but there isn't much more. Since The Mist was a somewhat short story, it's over and done by evening. Sweet sorrow and that ending............not sure what to say yet. Spiders! Whoo!

So, yeah, your day should be far more interesting than mine. Next weekend, I dare you to beat a 79 mile drive, nasty sex, and shopping for another copy of Uwe Ommer's 'Do It Yourself.' I'm curious as to what Sara thinks about the self-shot erotic photos in this book. Give a girl a camera......and all hell breaks loose. Pussy should be shown, not concealed, right? Interesting how Sara showed me a video from her favorite sex site and added that the naked male holding his hard-on turned her on. Show a girl a penis and it's just more trouble than I can handle. Somewhere in all this, there is Christmas spirit just waiting to stir things up. Happy twats all around.

Friday, November 16, 2007

Shouldn't Be Here

"This party's as interesting as getting an ingrown butt hair."

-Nowhere

You know you're old when coming home from work is more about dealing with the tiredness from work. Forget parties. Forget going out to get drunk or seduce unsuspecting airheads. Sofa. Sit. Now.

Obviously, it's that time of year as I see it. My DVD player spins "O Holy Night/Come All Ye Faithful" by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra, a total pleasure of mine. Department stores start to advertise that all of us should get into the Christmas spirit by telling us to buy! Buy! Buy! Holiday workers start looking less jolly once they realize that you have to work for those employee discounts. Spencer's Gifts rounds it all up with the usual calendars for bad boys and girls. Studs And Spurs or pictures of panties that barely cover 'axe wounds.'

I'm forced to go through the Holiday issues because the traffic I am forced to follow runs through the very areas I talked about. There is no resentment with me on Christmas spirit. What I do hate is being told that I must help out our stores by buying up things I don't really need. Does my dad enjoy smelling like David Beckham? Hell, no! If he could smell like pizza, he'd go all the way with pepperoni and sausage while the dogs follow him around. Do I wish for people to get me gifts? Not really. I have everything I want so the only interest is in seeing how people perceive me. Would you think that I'd want hardback books on baseball? Stephen King novels? Erotic photography? More sneakers? Cargo pants? Hugo Boss scents?

Actually, you can't go wrong with getting me Hugo Boss smelly scents because I love that one. Erotic photography books should be tasteful but also temptingly naughty. Don't get me wrong. I love images of pussy but not always so gyno-like in images. What I really, really want is that feeling I had during Christmas where everything was so magical. Bear with me here. I know it sounds corny but being a kid was all about the wonders of the world. The tree was up and wrapped presents were all around. Oh, how I loved that! Cookies came out of the oven. A cartoon had a very special episode that must be seen. Pajamas were worn instead of what I do now, which is sleep nude. I once wore cowboy boots. Did I ever tell you about that?

Right now, I'm so jaded. There is nothing I want but to make other people enjoy this time of year. Sara will be easy to shop for. For her birthday this year, I got her diamond earrings so that route is done. I wondered about bags because she's always criticizing other girls' bags as being 'crazy expensive' but with a feeling of wanting one. Thought about the Coaches or Luis Vuittons because I'd love to see what she'd do with one of those. Instead, I am just going to follow her orders by working with her parents on getting her a new Mac computer. Yes, that is exactly what she wants and hopefully will get.

My memories are filled with all sorts of times that I always seemed to need something, particularly, in the toy department. Mom would send me off in a different section of a store (Target, for example) while she gathered up things put on my part of the list. Of course, I would sneak around and catch her without her realizing it. I'm sneaky. Remember that. Funny how one of my greatest memories was of being mesmerized by Mila Jovovich's music video "Gentleman Who Fell" on a TV in the music department. If there is one thing that can keep me from spoiling my mother's need to hide from the impossible it's beauty and elegant music combined.

So, I'm going to leaveth you here. There is just too much tiredness within me. Even the deaf guy's hinting on me to join him in a bowling game couldn't beat it. Work just wears me out and I need lay on my bed for a short while before taking 5-Pound Phooey for her nightly walk. Could it be that tomorrow will find me reading Stephen King's 'The Mist?' Nothing scares me anymore. Sucks to be jaded. Happy twats all around.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

She's Like A Mist

"I'm a dream girl bereft of dreams. So it's obvious, isn't it? If I can't believe in mine, I'll have to be in yours."

-Luna in 'Do It Yourself' by Uwe Ommer

I've been racking my brain for the past few days on whether I've read Stephen King's 'The Mist.' Was it one of his many short stories I read way back in middle school or high school? Could it be in the collection where 1 short story absolutely horrified me and quite possibly made me think that there is a boogeyman that can hide within shadows? It doesn't really matter. I'll just get the damn book containing 'The Mist' and read it to be sure. That's how I deal with things according to Sara. Buy it and get it out of my head.

Today, I had one of those days where it could have been worse in whatever I did throughout. Work went a little bit later than usual. No big deal but I hate driving home with the night now so dark. Slutwatcher was in the locker room packing up to leave so no talking to someone that amuses me. Along comes drama, in that my ex-best friend gone religious nuts comes back after a 3 year absence. If it aint been found, they'll eventually all come back to me.

MR. Remember him? It's been a while so here's the short version. Wild child with an addiction to weed loses himself to brainwashings at various camps and turns majorly religious. I'm not joking in any way. MR really freaked me the fuck out by spending his evenings reading the bible and growing a beard to make himself look like a homeless Amish person. For all the problems that I had with MR (stinginess, annoying, can't get a clue, and so on....), he was a loyal guy. In some ways, I was so jealous of how he lost his virginity in high school while I was heavily in guilt over the fact that I turned down sex with my girlfriend. Where was the After School Special for me?

Well, MR was in my gym talking to one of the personal trainers thanks to hurting his wrist. I would have joked about all that being a result of jacking off so much while reading about his Lawrd only to most likely get a face full of sad Christianity. Ugh. This is the guy that told me he would propose marriage to a girl on the first date if he found her worthy. Ugh again. Let's just say that this religious nut has given up a life of fun all to look ugly and roam the world to avoid looking at females. C'mon, we all know your bodies invite sinful ways. Sara's eyes would light up over that.

I'm not happy if MR starts training in my gym. I cuss, fuck, and enjoy my time to myself where I know the rules of how to talk in a place like that. You don't take up too much time by insisting on chatting. MR can almost make you feel forced to start a conversation that will never end by continuously asking question after question. All I keep wanting to shout out is why he lost his mind. MR used to be fun. Hell, he once had sex with a very pretty girlfriend back in high school that just so happened to be the type I am into now, a biter and free-spirit. This bothers me a lot and just might ruin my concentration during my workouts.

What else............*ponders*

Since Slutwatcher is out of the conversation all due to leaving the gym as I got in, I could go on about a few college friends (1 bartends) but that'll be boring because we just laugh over comic books. Work was long and annoying thanks to the Holiday season kicking up. Explosives and Christmas trees is how I see things at work these days. Nobody wants to deal with that drunken uncle that seems to always need Tinker Toys taken out of his rear when 'experimenting' during times alone in the bedroom.

Got 2 new photography books. Why is it that this time of year is the best time to put up erotic photos? I get that their being expensive makes it a possible gift giving thing but I'm not sure how I'd feel if my mother placed Peter Gorman's 'Naked In Apartment 7' in my stocking. I'd be thankful for the sight of beautiful naked women but that's not something my mother should send my way.

So, I found Uwe Ommer's 'Do It Yourself' and Mike Figgis's 'The 4 Dreams Of Miss X'. The first is basically a photographer giving digital cameras to various women to take pictures of themselves. There would be no one telling her what to do when posing nude. Just her and a camera in whatever setting she feel comfy in. I must say that as soon as I started thumbing through 'Do It Yourself,' I was impressed and in love with how these women could be so welcoming in showing their bodies. Not only do these unknown women take good care of themselves but they're silly and having fun while doing it. That's always been key with me. Why can't girls smile? You're naked! Have fun! If you're gonna show your pussy and tits, make a big deal out of it. I'm still going to make it known that the second best thing is seeing the various apartments and bathrooms because I'm always curious as to what excites/interests girls in their decorations.

'The 4 Dreams Of Miss X' is basically one big ad for the undie giant, Agent Provocateur. You girls should know 'em, expensive panties and bras. While shopping with Sara, I let it slip that I thought Victoria's Secret's bras and panties were cheap. No, no, no. I was then dragged into the mall's Victoria's Secret and shown a $45 bra. Yikes! Agent Provocateur costs even more but you'll only know that if you live in London. This comes from someone that used to love studying fashion thanks to loving Calvin Klein and Ralph Lauren. Go ahead, ask me to drop my pants and I will show you my Calvins anytime.

As for the girls in 'The 4 Dreams.....,' there is one you'll know easily, Kate Moss. I've had a crush on her for years so there is no issue with me seeing her walk down stairs in black panties. The other two I have no clue as to who they are but 2 pictures are very sexy. Women's eyes and panties hugging her ass just right fit into what I enjoy seeing. Too bad I can't enjoy the fantasy of walking around in my undies so balls are easily visible. Sara has a roommate, one that is very scared of boys.

So, I leaveth you here. My mind is all over the place thanks to a very stimulating day, visually and scary. I'm afraid that I'll get slowly depressed as the night comes on much too fast for my tastes. While the air is nicely cold, it's just not fun to see that no one else is as crazy as I am to walk a little dog in the park. Happy twats all around.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Nothing To Complain About

"Raise your hand if you saw some titties."

-Garden State

I'm having a tough time relating to bloggers. The one thing I take note of that seems to help in becoming popular on the 'Net is to pour your heart out about how bad things are. I've nothing and, no, I won't sell out all just to have hundreds of people list me as someone they love to listen to bitch over everything. My life is so amazing and I have no right to complain. Sure, I could go on about how much I wish Sara is in my bed asleep right this very minute. There is the fact that I realize how much I miss my dog, Ellie-Mae, that died earlier this year. I also wish we'd use the fireplace in this house. Can't say I'm going through major problems.

Work just seems to keep getting better, too. We've got this new married girl that is fun to chat with before things start going crazy. She's so tiny and quite beautiful but that's not what gets to me. It's that she waves and is willing to laugh with you about the absurdity of work itself because it helps take some of the pressure off. You need people like that.

It's been a while but I finally got to run into the deaf guy again. I know he wishes we could have longer chats that go on over the 20 seconds mark but.........we just cannot. New people are always so fascinating to talk to because everything you've ever said recycles itself. All those old stories suddenly become more fun to discuss.

There is another thing, though. Sara made it known on my last visit how much she enjoys seeing women hit on me only to know that I'm as loyal as can be. Isn't that the greatest!?! Even on my last visit, there was a blonde woman walking a jack russel terrier that ooh'd and ahh'd over me. Yes, Sara was right next to me as I bent down to play with the dog. The next thing you know, I'm in laying in bed listening to Sara tell me a beautiful girl was fawning over me but all I wanted to do was play with her dog.

Well, it happened again. Work has me occasionally hanging around with the girl every guy in that place wants. It's simple. She has very nice large tits displayed in a tight tank-top on hot days, a gorgeous ass, and beautiful face. The only thing is that she's a bit stuck-up here and there. It's just, with me, I get talked to with the pupils of her eyes widening. Yes, it's a total sign someone is interested in you if you pay close attention to the eyes (one of my favorite features on females). Since I'm a bit on the animated side, I might give off some signs that I like her. Just get me worked up over a topic and away I go! The kicker is that she's a trust-fund baby and I can relate to that.

It's a weird world when I have a girlfriend pointing out to me just who is hitting on me. "Mike, she was totally staring at you" or "Didn't you hear how she practically confessed how hot you are!?!" I was never hit on this much back in private Catholic school or high school. Must be college and how the smells of other girls on me seem to bring out some sort of lust to get my attention. I swear there are days where I think I smell like I have pussy on me or my skin just oozes its scent to bring up competition.

And there she sleeps, Sara, on her side all peaceful. Weird. It's her enjoyment that I get hit on and she gets to watch the chase. All I want to do is get down on my knees to play with a little dog.

Where have my friends been? Oh, how I barely mention Slutwatcher and Co. anymore. It's the usual in how guys keep asking me how gorgeous girls talk to me or why I can talk to them so easily. Slutwatcher made it known that he saw his gym crush in a bar. How weird is that? The guy talks like it's high school all over again by mentioning how she 'looked at him' while she was out with her boyfriend. I had a great time in the gym asking all sorts of questions about this to get reactions that show how even 40something-year-old guys can lose brain cells over beauty.

Life in the gym has been easy. The workouts have become slightly routine so nothing's a challenge for now. The weather's been a bit colder so I don't see panties peaking out of tiny shorts, something that's great in distraction from the insanity about to be unleashed on a machine. Those sorority girls have annoyed Slutwatcher so much in not allowing him a nice long look to see what color. Funny thing is that Sara has no problems with guys seeing her panties while she works out. So, they realize she's wearing underwear. Big deal. Those are her words, not mine.

The urinal exploded again. Gotta love how urine needs to find a place to fly off and find a new home.

So, I leaveth you here as I prepare to look at my favorite website where men share their favorite pictures in porn. You know me. I'm so curious as to what turns on others even if I rarely find something that does me in. Yes, female urination is mysterious. So is this desire to talk about how women need to shave differently. It's just fucking porn, people. You get turned on and you tune out the horrors of life thanks to the sight of nice tits and pussy. Plus, it's free so no one should complain, especially those that just cannot get up the courage to talk to a girl. Happy twats all around.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Pride And An Idiot

"During the Democratic debate Tuesday night, Senator Joe Biden criticized Republican Rudy Giuliani, saying that 'there's only three things he mentions in a sentence: a noun, a verb, and 9/11.' Giuliani later responded, saying, 'Joe Biden sucks 9/11/'"

-Seth Myers on Saturday Night Live

Am I the only male willing to sacrifice what is left of his masculine soul all for the opportunity to walk into Best Buy and get his hands on the new special edition of Pride & Prejudice? Oh, lordy! Do I smell the weirdness within me to admit enjoyment in seeing Keira Knightley's portrayal of Jane Austin's Elizabeth? Perish the thought! I loved this movie so much that the added special features will be considered to be added butter on my strudel.

Today would be considered as my first real day back from Indiana. Yesterday, I was just too tired from all the excitement of coming back and finding myself alone. No estrogen, just me with a small dog growling at me for her daily 'walkie.'

To you, it all might begin with seeing foot on your own carpet. For me, it's gotta be going to work, hitting the gym, and walking a spoiled rotten dog. It's no wonder my body burns calories so fast. 8pm is my only time to actually feel my day is done and I can rest. If my right foot's latest soreness will allow it, I'll go up and down the steps to carry laundry. Every boy loves freshly scrubbed undies for keeping his scrotum nice and secure.

Lots of stuff happened in Indiana. Of course, I already mentioned how Sara and I just suddenly decided to come here for her to meet my parents. That took place in a diner as I did a pro's versus con's debate within my head. It would be nice to show someone things she's never seen around my already insane mind. The park, for Sara, would be new. My house, obviously, would be new. Parents? Yeah, I'd love to show them whom I've been sleeping with for almost 3 years just so they can give me their approval about this living in sin thingee that keeps me up all night.

While here, Sara helped me decide on bedding, something that matches and speaks me. In other words, what colors help with an oversexed spoiled fool with muscles? A blue Nautica top, of course! Underneath will be luxurious fabrics to help the naked boy sleep well when he has morning wood only a young lass can help cure. One set of sheets has been bought. The rest will be picked up soon enough. Women are amazing when it comes to picking out bedding because sleep, while somewhat important to boys because sex is far more, just so happens to also need to be a place to look good in it. Blue eyes with an expensive blue cover may cure my slumber blues.

My dog, 5-Pound Phooey, loved Sara. When I left her to walk her while Sara took a nap, it was when I came back that had me laughing. As soon as I walked into my room where Sara was sleeping, 5-Pound Phooey jumps up and gives all sorts of licks to wake her up. Usually, I just stare at her while she's sleeping to get the same effect.

All in all, it was nice to spoil Sara a bit. That was an amazing dinner with the perfect ending, yummy ice cream. My parents like her and the Nintendo Wii got another workout from our addiction to tennis.

So, I'm going to end here as I feel the need to catch up with a few things here at home. I'm still a bit tired and this Holiday feeling has me agitated that I feel this need to shop. Oh, I hate that! I need nothing! No more socks! No more undies! No more shirts! Sara's got it so bad because I am impossible to shop for. What do you get the boy that has everything, girls? If you're thinking karaoke machine, you and I are thinking alike. Happy twats all around.

Monday, November 12, 2007

Lost Mind In Black Noodles

"She's a keeper."

-Mum (What she said to me after meeting her for the first time)

So, I've got to ask you a question. When your lover's parents are away in another state, do you raid the liquor cabinet? Fornicate on their bed? Walk around naked and play with each other's naughty parts? If not, you are as boring as Sara and I. We worked on a puzzle for 5 fucking hours while her laundry was being worked on. About the only debauchery was heavy petting with no exposed genitals and watching the E! Channel's Girls Next Door. Sara and I are old now.

So, I'm back. After driving home today, work was the longest it's ever been. Just this once, I was bored out of my skull while having a hard time keeping up with the pace. There was so much to do today thanks to being gone for a long time.

So, the big announcement is that Sara met my parents on Thursday. Not a big deal? Keep in mind that I've been with Sara for 2 years and almost 9 months with no meeting. It was inevitable. It was scary. It all happened with a decision in a diner.

Bringing someone that you are sleeping with to meet the parents is kind of odd. "Hello, this is the person that put her fingers in my ass.......oh, about...........3 hours ago while giving me an amazing blowjob that would have us arrested in southern states. Like her, Ma?" Sara was so nervous about meeting them that she kind of hid by staying near the door while I went to find my mum. All I had to do was say, "This is Sara." Everything else just righted itself up.

It's funny. Sara told me that my parents were nothing like she imagined. The whole meeting was laid-back and easy to get into. For one thing, she hugged both my parents and was then led into the living room where we all chatted. For me, I was not one bit nervous because my little dog, 5-Pound Phooey, kept entertaining us all with her antics. One must always pay attention to the power a little dog holds while discussing various things such as job and life. My dad was more interested in explaining various museums in Chicago and asking about this wolf park we went to on my last visit to Indiana.

The best part was Sara's being treated to an amazing dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant by me. I'm used to money. Sara is not. So, off we go as I show her what the elite in this town enjoy on a nice night. Normally, we go dutch every now and then but we are talking about some of the finest food to ever touch your tongue here, folks. Sara was mighty impressed as I told her to order anything she wanted. Her parents spoil us so I wanted to return the favor by letting her explore any option.

And explore she did! I've never ordered wine but there is always a first. People dressed very nice were all around us as amazing smells kept driving my hunger far worse. No rude kids. No smelly people that are too lazy to bathe. Just very spoiled people or first dates being impressed. Sara took interest in a couple about our age that looked quite nice. We were the type to take in a similar look by having wine, amazing black fettuccini (with lobster), a shrimp/chicken thing that was to die for, and ice cream that'll make a woman wet her expensive panties. Even the waiter was very nice so the feeling of tipping was well worth it. The guy even helped Sara decide when she couldn't figure out whether it should be shrimp or chicken. Why not both?

Why not spoil a girlfriend rotten? I enjoy showing Sara things she doesn't normally get to experience that I take for granted sometimes. I swear I have never ordered wine as I felt this whole thing getting more serious. Sara and I talk of the occasion where I will move to her town somewhere within 1 to 2 years. This is coming from 2 people that don't mind being committed (in a sense) but enjoy the space they are so used to. As much as I love sleeping with her next to me, I like to wake up alone here and there. It's not the whole fear of wondering whether I look like a fool when I scratch my butt while yawning. It's my independence enjoyed fully.

As for my mother, she loves Sara. I had no fear of them not hitting it off. It's more along the lines of wondering just how much she can deal with a very inquisitive mother that likes to talk. Yo, Mum can talk! There was her need to tell Sara about the days where I miss being able to eat chocolate, a list of things to show in this town, and whatever else comes out. You know the deal. It's almost like they have to bring out embarrassing past moments just to keep things going in discussions.

"Does he fart in front of you? Well, he did seem to enjoy that when he was younger."

So, I must get my butt on upstairs after all these weird memories are running through my head. We played the Nintendo Wii down here for hours, looked at bedding, and took my dog for a walk. Have I lost my fucking mind by not talking about filthy sexual desires all thanks to being domesticated by the woman-folk? Happy twats all around.

Monday, November 5, 2007

On Vacation

"I don't believe in miracles. I believe in Pittsburgh!"

-Weeds

Oh, Shane. How I wish I had your enthusiasm for a shit town like that. Here I sit and worry about how those that do believe in miracles have their heads so far up their asses while things die off at such a high rate. Keep fighting, Shane. Those religious idiots driving beemers with WWJD bumper stickers will never stay out of our way even if they are the most likely candidates to become obese, cheat, and tell us that greed is good. Let's say it again. What would Jesus do? The curtains close when a black family walks by.

But onto more important things. Will I survive? Tomorrow, I leave for Sara's, what is supposed to be a nice little vacation. Now, if I had my way, I'd continue on with going to work this week. There is something odd about how much I enjoy this feeling of accomplishing something where my muscles feel sore all while using my fingers to talk to a deaf guy. It's not all good as it is with life's little issues. There are a couple managers that piss me off but that's for another time. There is no way I would let a little bald guy that thinks himself amazing to get to me. Will have to come up with a nickname for him soon.

It's been a while since I've spent a whole week with Sara. Somehow, I miss that very obvious sign I am about to get my ass chewed out again because I wore something that doesn't go with my lack of skin color. I'm pale, y'all. Or I can't seem to drive how she wants me to. Sara's method of giving directions can be a bit confusing, y'all. Oh, how I miss the mess things become when a bi-polar decides to release all hell on me. Last time, Sara was wearing goggles so I got the giggles.

So, I will be on vacation this week. Now, I don't know how much I mean to you guys. Some of you never email me anymore. Hell, one person asked for my email address only to just fucking disappear. Sometimes, it feels like Summer is my only friend out here on cyberspace these days. We're all busy? Yeah, I get it. It's just not worth it to put things down and talk anymore.

That's why I'm ending things here. I'm happy in some ways because it's the great unknown if I go to Chicago with Sara. A couple, known to get into arguments where very blunt things are said, will be taking a shot at seeing whether they can survive where there are no referees. One's got some form of ADD. Did you know I have stinky feet after work? The other needs goggles and a helmet to deal with a mildly retarded male. Somehow, it all works out because there is rough sex. Happy twats all around.

Sunday, November 4, 2007

Take Me Back Again

"Avoid being vulgar. Excitable bouts of wind breaking will not endear you to a girl, just to pick one example."

-'The Dangerous Book For Boys' by Goun Igguldon

Today, I was a boy! Oh, the memories of killing time after Barnes & Noble by going to Toys R Us was quite a memorable one. Sunday's are usually lazy days in some ways so I found myself extra excited when I found G.I.Joe figurines that were reproduced to look very similar to the ones I had as a kid. Well, not all get to me. Only my favorite characters, the ninjas, Snake-Eyes and Storm Shadow had me going way back to the days where we'd be at toy stores looking all over for these rare characters. Back then, it was nearly impossible to get the ninjas unless a stocker happened to put them up minutes ago. Ninjas! I can die happy now!

Yeah, I know. You don't get it and that's understandable. It's just that my days of playing with toys like G.I.Joes was such an event. First, I had to get to the store by ordering Mum to swing by to check the shelves. Next, if I noticed new ones, I had to look to see if the ninjas were hidden by some other sneaky kid. And, finally, there was the actual event of handing over a large portion of my allowance all so I could enter an imaginary world where people with swords could work things out better than a Muslim before VHS was invented.

Isn't that strange? A lot of the good stuff I find myself so entranced with is from long ago. Even my Smurfs love is something of legend where my college friends found it odd that I'd watch that cartoon over Springer. Maybe G.I.Joes and Transformers helped me find my imagination but keep me there permanently, something Sara finds fun in a boy that hasn't quite grown up.

Note: Storm Shadow is my favorite character of all time, mysterious and intimidating. I may reveal a lot here on Blogger but I'm still secretive. Plus, ninjas are cool.

Nervous about my trip to Chicago that may or may not take place. I'm sure it'll be fun since I love to explore new places. Nothing unique when it comes to shops can be found in this town. It's not exactly a toy store place that I keep seeing in other people's blogs but something that carries artwork and knick knacks that represent different sides is what I want. There are some truly creative people that can make toys I never dreamed possible.

After being looked up under a very odd spank material title ("Do women like their assholes licked?"), I decided to take it upon myself to see what relates in the old search engine. Somehow, I ended up on Amazon.com looking at various erotic photography books I never knew came out. We've got Barnes, Border's, and Walden but I've never seen anything like the stuff I found. You know me. I just love erotic photography when it's done right, candid and sensual all at once.

To answer the question, yes, women enjoy having their assholes licked but I've never done it. As a receiver of such an event, I can tell you that it feels very, very good thanks to the right amount of tongue pressure and saliva.

My favorites when it comes to erotic photos are hard to place. Here and there, I've seen some good ones from the guy that did the book "Happy Naked Girls." To make the girls feel more comfortable, he offered to take his clothes off as well. Maybe that's why the women are laughing so much instead of looking bored or annoyed. Missy Suicide of the Suicide Girls is okay but it's the various girls' personalities that sell it for me, namely Stormy and a few Indian girls.

Peter Gorman is a name I see come up quite often in various magazine discussing his nude photography. His books are what I'm going to look for while in the large bookstores in Chicago. Trust me. These places are very nice. You walk in and no one gets all freaked out over the fact that there are large black and white photos of breasts, penises, ass, and vaginas. I found out a friend of mine was gay when I walked over to find him obsessively looking at a large hardcover of naked guys. Again, I've had no gaydar since the beginning of puberty and will continue to never figure out whether a wizard's needs for Barbara Streisand albums is a peculiar thing.

Roy Stuart is one I cannot forget thanks to powerful images that sicken me but hold me. I'm not sure where this guy is based but I saw one of his books in our Border's. It could be that no one is brave enough to buy one, what with the cover being of a woman squatting down on the sidewalk with her legs spread to reveal transparent panties. Like I said. Powerful.

Just because I'm grossed out by various images taken by Roy Stuart doesn't mean I don't see them as demeaning. They're just too odd for my tastes. There are 2 sets that haunt me over and over again. One has a very muscular guy wearing tights. You'd swear he was gay but in the next set of pictures he's receiving a blowjob from a woman that's rubbed her pussy juices on him. In another, a very nicely dressed women walks the pebble stone streets of Rome, pulls up her short skirt, yanks her panties to the side, and pees. Unfortunately (or lucky) for her, she is caught and must give a blowjob to a guy in order for him not to tell. I'm surprised this book is still in our Border's because female urination shown so graphic is quite popular with men. Why the fuck do I constantly have these images in my head!?! Is Roy Stuart that fucking good after I've realized how bored I am with posed pictures?

Note: I do not find urination gross or anything. Erotic to me? No, but I enjoy it when the tables are turned on us guys. When I read that a lot of girls enjoy watching guys piss, I smiled. It's quite enticing to know girls are just as naughty as guys these days.

Why do I want Peter Gorman's latest books? His erotic photos, the ones where he uses the models' apartments, sounds like my thing. No boring studio, just a home where a girl's various things are thrown about. What music does she listen to? What does she read? How does she decorate her place? That's my kind of thing. I've always wondered if a girl being interviewed after posing nude really does like The Shins or The Killers. Is it a ploy to sound more hip? Hell, I consider it very daring to reveal what gets you more so than your fucking crotch.

Yeah, that's what "Happy Naked Girls" did for me. The guy took his pictures in the girls' apartments or houses. Loved how I was allowed to see how they designed their places. That's me, always wanting to know what gets to you.

Bored now. I was going to get into it about how I kind of hate the power that teenage boys are getting thanks to the 'Net. Alas, that will be for another time because I'm not sure if I got as much sleep as I needed or I just want to leave. Blogging gets boring when I don't know whether all these people read me as a joke or something else. Happy twats all around.

Saturday, November 3, 2007

I'll Be Your Grendel

"The poison-breath of that foul worm first came forth from the cave, hot reek-of-fight; the rocks resounded.........stoutly stood with his shield high-raised the warrior king, as the worm now coiled together amain: the mailed-one waited now, spire by spire, fast sped and glided that blazing serpent."

-Beowulf

How's that for a personal omen? After years of putting off reading 'Beowulf,' it's finally hitting me hard that it'll be released as a movie in theaters come this November. Fuck! I tried to get myself to read it, at least more than the portion required of us in Catholic school. You know me. There is much love in old warrior stories about overcoming great odds, serpents, dragons, and demons. Wonder if I lived in such fantastic times that I'd make a great impression of helping to rid the world of such evil. Who am I kidding? The sight of a naked goddess would force me to have a boner as big as a whale only to be killed from behind as I fuck her hard doggy style.

Seen the theatrical trailer to Beowulf? I've only recently had the time to thanks to Youtube. A very naked CGI Angelina Jolie rises from a cave's pond to start trouble. Why, she's Grendel's mother, a total temptress and evil goddess that can get a rise out of our hero, Beowulf. Never underestimate the power of pussy, be it white, black, or brown.

Talked to an Asian friend of mine in a sneaker store. Too bad, I can't hear him as well thanks to the after effects of this cold. While I can breathe, finally, my hearing has gone thanks to my head's congestion. Snot builds its way up, is shot out, and then leaves me with annoyed ears. The story of my life and how lucky I am only to be foiled by boogers.

How tough is your dog? Mine wipes her ass on the sidewalk. 5-Pound Phooey doesn't care if there are speed bumps or a scratchy surface. The shit's gotta come off.

Walking 5-Pound Phooey does have its occasional rewards. For once, she was less assertive in being seen as dominant when 2 dogs walked by. The surprising thing is that she allowed the 2 to sniff her as they quietly introduced themselves. Weird. I've rarely ever come across other dogs that 5-Pound Phooey would be nice to. Be it, German shepards, golden retrievers, bull-dogs, or any sort of dog, she'll go into her dominant stance and bark til she feels ready to walk off feeling tougher. It could have been the sweaters that the 2 dogs were wearing. Jealousy over dominance, in this case.

The other reward was a free CD someone had left underneath a tree. At first, I thought it was porn since the woman on the label side looked extremely hot in a sultry pose. Nope, just a CD by a girl calling herself Vanity Tweak. Know her? I'm so behind in what kids listen to these days that I know nothing about this girl's CD sampler. Nice looking, though. I'll give it a listen someday. Would have given the porn to Bald-O because all single guys need help at getting off during the beginning of winter.

As promised, the camera has been bought, a Canon A570 from Best Buy. It got high ratings and is good for beginners. Good thing. It took me longer than 5 minutes just to figure out how to get the batteries and memory card in plus shutting it. Tomorrow, I do the most thrilling thing ever, turning it on. Whoo! Am I going to need more memory or anything to add on?

My dad thought I was crazy for buying a digital camera when he barely uses his. Loved the Sony Cybershot and all that but I wanted my own. Things don't feel personal to me unless I obtained it myself. The same goes for getting all new sheets, bedspread, and pillows for my bed.

That's pretty much it. I'm only now beginning to be able to breathe and not be forced to travel with my faithful sidekick, Kleenex Box. That'll explain why I woke up so late. The body needs to catch up on sleep and it's my stupidity that doesn't allow it. Go to work and hit the gym hard is what I do best. Sometimes, I think that's where a woman comes in, someone to order me to rest instead of running myself ragged because I enjoy my muscles' screaming for me to stop.

That's where satellite TV comes in at night. Starz is showing Apocalypto and another channel had a foreign movie called Lila Says. One is about an Indian's escape from evil Mayans while the other has a blonde teenage temptress that brings out a shy boy by giving him a handjob as he rides a bicycle. Can you guess which is which? Apocalypto has a really nice long chase scene and drove me to want more and more. Evil and being chased by a black jaguar can make a man run faster.

Never thought I'd find a foreign movie about the teenage life of a Muslim's temptations as interesting. The blonde girl was so sultry in her need to just ask the shy guy whether he wanted to see her pussy. Funny. She sat on the swing and, as she went up and down, opened her legs. Wow. Someone knows how to tempt the type of guy that doesn't know what his dick is for, especially when she knows how to jerk him off while riding on a bike with him. I doubt Beowulf would be able to hold out for longer than 2 minutes with this girl.

I'd like to be Keira Knightley's bicycle seat for a couple years.

So, I'm outta here as I let it be known that this will be my first night where I am able to sleep soundly. I'm gonna need it because my own little temptress of a girlfriend, Sara, will order much fucking. I laugh when I read about women discussing how 1 to 3 orgasms is a lot. According to Sara, it's at least 6 or it's just not worth doing. Now you know why I'm tired and find myself breathing hard as I lay on my back. Don't tell me you're still into that silly lovemaking shit. Happy twats all around.

Friday, November 2, 2007

It's When She's Got Balls

"Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold.......more anarchy is loosed upon the world. And what rough beast, its hour come around at last, slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?"

-Yeats

A bit of me is outraged. In an interview with Warren Buffet, he expressed disapproval about the tax system. Warren, the third richest man, is taxed at a rate of around 17 % while his secretary is forced a strong 30%. Keep in mind that he is a billionaire while she makes a rounded $60,000/year. Does this make you furious?

And then I read about Britney Spears's monthly spending today. Over $100,000 is spent on entertainment. Thousands of dollars for clothes but can't seem to find the time to buy panties. Remember the days when boys wanted a peek at the pussy or just to be her tampon? Long gone now. The thing that irritates me is that just $500 each month is spent on charity. Why do people support this piece of shit, Britney Spears?

Naw, I'm not going on a rant or anything. No time for all that since I'm a little bit tired out. Work, weather, and boogers. That reminds me that I should bring you all back into the world, the world seen through the eyes of BoogerBoy and his faithful sidekick, Kleenex Box as they ride around town putting their feet to the pavement in hopes of avoiding the dirty diapers people seem to toss out of their cars each day. The colder the weather gets, the more dirty diapers are placed outside for bird consumption.

Life is not easy when your best friend is a kleenex box. That's why I just go to work with an amusement to Sara sending me an email about how she loves it that I accidently left my grey sweatshirt in her apartment. What is it about women and their love of their mate's clothes? I'm not complaining at all because it is extremely sexy to see a girl completely naked except for the nice button down as she exits the room to pee or get juice. Angelina Jolie did it great in Mr. And Mrs. Smith.

Sara wears my clothes a lot. Most of the time, after sex, she'll pick up whatever I wore that is closest. Since my suitcase is in the corner, that's too far away. The floor is the place for whatever things were ripped off me in order to seduce the boy. Socks? Calvins? Pants? Shirts? All there to the right of the bed on the floor for her to wear after the inevitable event of peeing after sex, something all girls should do, by the way. You just cannot walk down the hallway naked when there is a roommate (one that never leaves the apartment, especially). I know because Sara told me that it would be rude of me to walk by the roommate naked. Penises can be very distracting as Veronica Mars would say.

But women and their man's clothes is always fun, especially if they can either be too big or fit nicely. It's not nice when she's too big because, let's face it, a woman that weighs more than the pickup truck is not cool. The curves of perky breasts accentuate the area in the chest portion of the button down (I have bigger boobs, though, so it's funny here) while the sweatshirt pretty much consumes her. Sara can wear my sweatshirts like a dress along with some t-shirts.

According to Sara, it's also about the smell. It's common knowledge that each of us smells a certain way. I wouldn't know my own scent but I can recognize Sara's easily. It's only when I stink of sweat that I take major action. Trust me. I'm huge on scent because it persuades me to a happier high. Strawberries are the biggest and easiest way to get me to notice while small hints of certain perfumes can make even an ugly old broad slightly sexy. It's just that it's so nice to be told that Sara's happiest when I leave clothes behind for her to sleep in.

Girlfriends smell me a lot. While Sara likes it that I've got a nice scent that's not mixed up in colognes, just smelly bodywashes, others liked me all over. For those that workout together, Kristan liked licking the sweat off me after a session in the gym. Mind you, this was a colder period of weather. Jen used to smell my Calvins because she wanted to know if I had a 'wet dream' when sleeping with her. Yeah, some girls like the smell of semen. Go figure. Sara just likes the smell of penis and, by golly, if it aint clean enough, she'll clean it for me. What a woman!

The funny thing is I truly did forget my sweatshirt. It wasn't til 3 nights ago that I was looking for it to sleep in during the cold. This Nike sweatshirt is so soft inside that I'd perish the thought of losing it. Of course, I realized instantly that it would be in Indiana being used by a girl wearing nothing but that. Women just love to wear clothes too many sizes big for bed. Hell, Sara put on my camouflage pants on my last visit. To put it bluntly, JUST my camouflage pants after sex. That's new. Deep knee bends! Squats!

To be fair, yes, I have had a girlfriend that wanted me to wear her clothes. Don't all of us guys face those big eyes that hope to dress us up and see us flutter around the room in a dress? That is impossible for me. My tits are bigger than 99% of my girlfriends,' my back is impossible for any kind of top or bra, I have no ass that would accentuate for a lack of anything because everything is already big, this dick is large with gigantic balls for best friends forever, and my feet are big thanks to long toes that make you wonder if I hang upside down at night. The look on a girl's face is priceless when she even tries to insist I wear her clothes only to be told a very firm 'no.' Event tickle torture won't work because it just gives me the giggles. So don't try anything funny.

So, I'm outta here as I need to just say something that'll end this entry. The pictures on the photo CD are not working for now so I'm going to seek outside help. I'm hoping things are a lot better once I pick up a Canon digital tomorrow at Best Buy. Do you think I'll have problems in this area as well? I'm pathetic but I want to show you what I'm talking about all while not bitching about work or going into a long debate with another female on the fact that I love my Air Jordan sneakers no matter how weird they look to her. Happy twats all around.