Thong Just Got More Interesting

"I'm a lumberjack and I'm okay!"

-Monty Python

My dogs have this new little talent, not quite as close to being what you'd call rescue dogs talent, but a talent nonetheless. Thanks to the abundance of snow, they have taken it upon themselves to dig up old turds. It's funny. One of them would work as hard as possible, scattering snow all over, just to get a hold of something someone shit last week. To them, it's gold in the form of a frozen chocolate bar. Not all of them do this. You'll know this right away because it's only 5-Pound Phooey and Bonnie that have snow all over their mouths. Yes, my little snoring demon can be disgusting.

I'll be here this weekend. Sara's sick and my mother drives me nuts with her insisting on asking me how she is every 10 minutes. All I could do is point at the phone. I've seen how it would drive her crazy just to call up Sara. I've no problem with that at all. It would be fun allow my mother some sort of girl-talk thing she doesn't get in this house of 3 males.

To put it mildly, the last time my mother talked to Sara over the phone was to deliver me a message. Because I forgot to call upon arriving in Indiana, Sara smacked me on the head. That was the message.

How cool is the writer of Juno, Diablo Cody!?! I've loved her for years after reading her biography, "Candy Girl." I've always thought that a woman that can make me feel the horrors of having diarrhea right before having to come out to dance in a thong or face the ultimate horror, dancing alone to 2 Live Crew's "We Want Some Pussy" was destined for greatness. Yes, I know that song by heart.

"Hey, hey we want some pussy!"

For me, the ultimate writer is one that can show a complete ability to be vulnerable yet still strong as things get humiliating. Why do I remember so well the scene where Diablo discusses getting diarrhea? She made me feel there stuck in the stall while the manager banged away on it threatening to send her out to do 'the loser dance.' It's just not sexy to read about a woman getting this form of sickness but you know what? Just the thought of wearing a thong after a massive bout of diarrhea sends any thoughts of sexiness far, far away. We've all been there in some form and I love Diablo with her witty writing abilities.

Funny thing is that I found Candy Girl after all this time. Tempted to reread it again. Yes, it's that good because only 2 books, for me, are deemed worthy enough. Stephen King's "It" and Richard Kypling's "Ricki Tikki Tavi" are those that will never leave my library, besides that enormous collection of graphic novels.

So, I am going to leaveth you here as will be enjoying the sleep caught up in this weekend. Since Sara's sick, there is no way I want to go back to shivering all night. Thanks to Summer, I've got this weird worry that I might lose myself into thinking I'm fucking Sara only to really be fucking the bed. Satisfying the bed is easy because it doesn't shout out, "More! More! Give me more, Blue Steel!" Happy twats all around.

Come Shovel With Me

"Why can't I get one fuck?
Must be my luck."

-Violent Femmes

I think things can be summed up by some of the worst local newscenter reporting that I saw today. They made a big announcement that our town is tired of the bad weather, rain and snow. Well, duh. Do you really have to do street interviews at the local gas station asking people if they're tired of this weather? I doubt a reporter would find one person willing to say "I love this shit!" Why? While we protect 1st Amendment rights, we also feel the right to nail any stupid bastard willing to say that to the wall.

1 gun. 1 shovel.

For those of you that do not get it, the midwest and northeast have been through some major weather issues. Actually, 'issues' is too light of a word where people sit in their homes seething over the fact that shoveling is to be done first thing in the morning. It's rare for us to see our green grass because it's covered in snow. When there is any sigh of relief, it's predicted that snow will be upon us again. Hence, the do-over factor that has been fucking up our heads.

I've no problem shoveling. What I do or did have a problem with is how much worse being sick is with the weather as it is. My shivering all night from the flu would have been less if things were just 5 or 10 degrees warmer. Rain, when comes during my time of work, makes it harder for me to do so. I'm sluggish when allergies come on strong. It's all a never-ending battle where all of us in this city would like sunshine to warm our little fannies. I miss the feeling of throwing open windows to surround the area with the music of Sheryl Crow or Don Henley. I miss the feeling of getting up out of the bed after fucking Sara without shivering as I walk down the hall to take a long piss. All I see, is gloom and dirty snow.

If this doesn't give you an idea, nothing will. I skipped the gym tonight. Did you get that? I just didn't have the energy from all that's happened since last Thursday. 10 pounds lost. Coughing still. Sleep was needed to catch up on so I took a little nap that would have happened if 5-Pound Phooey would stop passing so much gas in my bed. A little sleep but enough to make me feel far more rejuvenated than a night in the gym. Trust me. I'll be hitting the weights hard tomorrow. Gonna visit Sara this weekend and, with a woman that behaves like that in bed, I'm gonna need some major strength to fuck her just right.

Sometimes, I miss the screams.

You know what feels good? Watching The Patriot. Yeah, it has nutty old Mel Gibson but also Heath Ledger as his son. Good stuff because there are days I wonder if we'll ever have our own revolution from that past 7 years of darkness under Bush. One man, Mel's Ben, used guerilla style tactics to take down the British's Cornwallis. Some people had problems with the violence. Why? These are the same conservatives that are supporting McCain and his love of war.

There's a new porn that's a bit like 300 only it's women. I'm so curious and willing to get my hands on it because the trailer looks excellent. Gorgeous naked women versus a Xerxes look-alike?

So, that's my life til this weekend. I'm really hoping that all this rest where I watched a new Scooby-Doo episode everyday this week will help. I've dire need for a fuck. It's the type where my need to release every drop comes first. The adrenaline that surges through my veins by the time my cock is rushed into her will bring me back from the dead. Mmm. A good grip on the ass while a salivated thumb presses up against the asshole is a lovely bit of poetry in motion, no? Of course, not! It's the waves from the thrust, my friend. Happy twats all around.

Sunflowers

"It's poetry in motion.
She turned her tender eyes to me.
As deep as any ocean,
As sweet as any harmony."

-"She Blinded Me With Science" by Thomas Dolby

My girlfriend sent me flowers today. I'm not the biggest flower person but I do admit to a slight turn towards sunflowers, black roses, and daisies. It's always the underrated types that are so beautifully forgotten by everyone's obsession with roses. Oh, and I gets it, too, dear reader. Sara would tell you that I love red.

The flowers were sent as a gift for our anniversary. Since I had done a lot of these things in our 3 years, Sara decided she would do the gifting. Surprised the hell out of me to find flowers in a towering box. My first thought was this 'thing' was for the broken garage door being worked on as I walked down the stairs, not pretty stuff to place on a table where they now are in a quart of water.

The results of the flu are in. I've lost a total of 10 pounds, my need to be social, and habit of wondering aloud to myself as to why Ralph Nader has thrown his hat into the ring for president. 10 pounds lost in 5 days is very damaging to the body. While I do look nicely toned even more in the face, my stomach cannot handle the loss of body fat. Anything I eat is sent out in the worst way. It is the most horrible feeling in yo' ass. Abs look really nice!

Ah, but life just seems to float on by. Perverted Old Man took the time to talk to me in the gym. Remember him? You will when I mention how he came up to me and said one of my favorite quotes of all time:

"You look like you get a lot of pussy. If I looked like you, I'd walk around naked all the time."

The pressure! There is pressure to keep looking this good! I'm kidding. The guy is a little weird but quite nice as long as you are a guy. One of my female friends hated him and how he always stared at her in the gym. Some men have a really major taste for blonds that's, like, totally unhealthy.

Basically, I got a lot of patting on the back by Perverted Old Man about how I can lift so much weight with my back. You could say I'm dying to be talked to in the gym ever since Richard went into surgery for his torn tendons. I miss him for I just don't talk to anyone else much now. As anti-social as I am right now, Richard is the one to bring me out of it. There is something about a guy that looks like he's smuggling a globe underneath his shirt.

So, how do I sum up The weekend during The Vagina Monologues? After all the bad dancing (I was awful) during my time spent sober at the table surrounded by women, some that looked like they could kill me (A couple weighed more than me, possibly), I must say I did have a blast. The highlight would be the small Asian girl we befriended. The girl could dance! That's pretty much all she did when her friends left her in the sushi restaurant. Whether it was by herself or with Sara or the girls, she was fun to just watch bounce all over the place. It got so late I had to drive her back to her dorm (only 19). Sara was drunk. The roommate was even drunker because this door mouse was a little obnoxious with personality. Do you know how hard it is to get directions on a large campus when 75% in the car are drunk from Sex & the City style drinks?

Some of the girls I will run into again. One, Molly, runs the local porn shop, has an open relationship, and is a total dominatrix. Sara is hot for her. I did dance with her while Sara acts all shy around her. Hard to explain how weird this goes. Molly was sexy in fishnets while performing in The Vagina Monologues. Girls, a lot of guys love fishnets. You cannot go wrong with a hint of thong or panties, thigh high boots, cleavage, and fishnets.

As for my dear large black woman, Juanita, that had to be tortured by my discussion on how the Spice Girls' first album was the best, I hope to see her again. I had a blast being grabbed and laughed with over stupid things where I cannot understand women in. "Why are they always late?" It was fun and got deeper when Juanita glares at me with, "And you aren't?" I always get a kick out of those willing to play a little bit. Plus, she comes walking out of the auditorium right for me just like I promised her I would see the damn play.

*Psst!* Juanita was gonna get laid that night, too. I saw the little man with her.

But, of course, you would find it strange that we at a table can openly discuss female ejaculation, pussy stains, my need to be Keira Knightley's bicycle seat (I was seriously shocked when Sara just blurted that out), and angry vaginas. Maybe it's because of the horrible state of the world that we need a little joy in our lives. Don't tell me you're one of those war mongerers howling about how great McCain is. Your wife probably doesn't put out for you anymore because all you do is draw pictures of soldiers bursting into homes and ruining families' Christmases.

So, I am going to skeddadle out of here. I'm bored and feeling so anti-social but I still have to thank Sara for the flowers. I'll see her this weekend, hopefully, and get back into having her ride me in the morning. When the sun is shining and your boyfriend has a gorgeous stick of morning wood going, what ya gonna do, ladies? Happy twats all around.

Lost Yo' Home?

"It's metal under tension,
begging you to touch and go!"

-"Danger Zone" by Kenny Loggins

As of 9:17pm, I became aware that I have energy. No more dragging myself around thanks to sleepiness. No more wondering if I should just throw my shoulders around due to how tired they are. No more thinking I am never going to make it in this world. I am back. To prove it to you, I give you this. I was watching a newscenter's discussion on the housing crisis. Found myself asking questions:

"You make just above $6/hour, have 4 kids, and you sit here crying about how you cannot afford your 3-floor home!?! Yeah, the bank ripped you off and ya-da ya-da. Have you ever heard of condoms and common sense?"

This bothers me. I've yet to understand why people that can barely make ends meet seem to feel this need to breed. Teenagers talk of how cute babies are (They're not) and how they'd like to have them while so young with no job. This world is so fucked up when people that do not use common sense these days. Babies are expensive. They are dirty, smelly, filthy little creatures that get their points across by throwing things or drooling on them. Alcohol just makes them worse. Stop having kids if you have a dead-end job or have no common sense to share. This goes out to blacks (city types acting like they're rappers), whites (a lot of this is in the south), and Mexicans (all the fuck over-they breed in trains, too) so it's all over.

Stupidity just breeds stupidity. That goes for all those that still think Legally Blonde is a great flick. It's mildly funny, at best.

So, I'm back and happy to be moving around. Did get sick every now and then when Diddly made his appearance on MTV's Making the Band 4. I just cannot stand him and his arrogance. Even when he calls a meeting with Danity Kane, there he is acting bored instead of focused. Diddly talks about professionalism and such but doesn't take off his sunglasses all while making me constantly feel like the show is basically to keep himself known. Hardly anyone I know in my life likes him and his music.

Oooooh, Dawn, you are F-I-R-E. *makes scorching sound* This girl is making the white boy wonder what it's like in those pants of yours. I bet her thong smells like peach cobbler on a warm day.

So, obviously I need to get into The Vagina Monologues before it pretty much becomes a faded memory. My flu symptoms make things appear as a haze even if it wasn't that long ago. Coughing rattles mah brain back and forth. If you didn't hear that, it was the slushing sound the past 4 days. I'm mush up there thanks to my only food being ginger ale. 6 pounds gone in 4 days thanks to all that carbonated sody pop.

I'll just be blunt at how amusing it was for Sara to just blurt out to all the girls at the table during the after-party about how I wish I could be Keira Knightley's bicycle seat. Mind you, I didn't know anyone there. This was all for people that were in The Vagina Monologues along with their friends. It's like, "Hi, guys! My boyfriend wants to smell Keira's pussy!" I had not seen the show yet because this would be tomorrow. Great way to get me unforgettable with the female crowd of feminist/hardcore feminists/poets. Only one other male was there. He was on the far end of the table and looked like he lost his balls. Mine are big enough to spare but I aint sharing.

I'll admit to meeting all these women at the after-party as something odd. Their lesbian love for each other was very much in full-view. Men pay for this sort of thing because girls kissing girls is something they grew up on in Hustler/Club/Penthouse. It's a right of passage to find various women licking naughty parts in close-up views thanks to Dad's secret stash of porn. Most girls were obviously gay due to the military cuts, dress style, and sudden getting up to dance seductively with another girl. Mind you, Sara danced dirty with all the girls. My girlfriend is a closet-wanna-eat-pussy-type but that's just between you and me.

There was a lone guy, quite chunky and very ugly that kept trying to dance with all the girls. I'm not kidding. No matter how many times the girls would take their lesbian dance troupe away, he'd keep coming back from the restaurant's bar thinking himself so hot. Big fashion mistake: When you have a large overhanging stomach, do not tuck your shirt in tight. It's sad when extremely ugly people think themselves hot enough for girls that shave their heads.

Don't go knocking The Vagina Monologues as being nothing but a bunch of paragraphs on pussies. What I did see is the quiet frustrations faced when owning one. Tampons are nothing but unlubed cotton designed to be shoved up there in order to sop up menstrual blood. Can it be possible to design something that will make them more comfortable? Medical instruments to be used in gyno exams are cold and scary. Would it hurt for the doctor to warm up his hands first? Many of those instruments are very painful. How would you like your balls smashed for 30 minutes and then asked how you feel? Female circumcision? I've already discussed that a thousand times in my blogs. The point is that vaginas can be seen as nothing but holes for men to use as pleasure palaces or experiments.

Sara's character in the play was the hit of the show. First of all, while the others lacked stage presence and the ability to stop mumbling their lines (my one big complaint in hiring people that lack experience for plays), Sara just went crazy by cracking her kitty whip. *Whap!* All the girls stood up and obeyed as she acted throughout her telling of a female gigolo that loves to make vaginas happy. The character was once a business woman that grew bored with paper after paper. Licking pussy was her calling. I don't think the audience was ready for the kitty whip part.

Of course, there was another after-party. You know lesbians. They have to celebrate pussy by eating at an expensive sushi restaurant. The irony gets to me, too.

I hate to do this but I've got a situation that just came up. I'll finish this later because their is still lots of pussy and girl dancing talk. I'm happy to be back. Happy twats all around.

I Had Some Shivers

"I got this ache......and I thought it was for sex but it's to tear everything to fucking pieces!"

-Ginger Snaps

Yeah, I totally get it, Ginger. Man, I've had to spend the whole weekend lying down on my bed watching reality TV, cartoons, and the occasional movie. While some think this is a great thing, I'm not quite sure. The Holy Grail, for me, is to get my hands on a movie from 1982 that will hopefully stop its great theme music from playing in my head.

Again, it's The Legend Of the Lone Ranger from 1982 that keeps playing in my head. After losing all hunger and shaking uncontrollably from the flu, I've become obsessed with seeing this movie again even while thinking I was in the ambush that killed several law officers. Years have passed and I still know that baddie's name by heart, Butch Cavandish. There is something seriously wrong with me, right? Is there anyone else out there that remembers this haunting music?

I'm pretty much over the flu, just have to pick up the pieces by cleaning myself up. My lack of sleep has me feeling weak. 150 push-ups just cannot cut it. Well, that's a given when FX is playing The Punisher and Tom Jane really put in the work to make me jealous. My dream, to be big and strong all while keeping myself as a teddy bear inside. At least, I was pinned to the bed watching a movie where a man's family was run over by a truck in order to get him to rid Miami of it worst Italian mafia acting by none other than John Travolta.

Mum's sick, too. The weird thing in all this is that one of the dogs has joined in by having massive diarrhea the past 3 days. Not mine. 5-Pound Phooey has no problems with her little ass. She's just mad at me for the haircut I gave her.

So, I've seen The Punisher, King Of Kong: A Fistful Of Quarters, all of disc 1 for The New Adventures Of He-Man, The Assassination Of Jesse James, and Rikki Tikki Tavi. It's a very tragic consumption of tastes. On one hand, you have what I grew up with, He-Man and Rikki Tikki Tavi. The other, my obsession with manliness, The Punisher and Jesse James. King Of Kong is a must see to watch nerds get so obsessed with thinking themselves gods while playing 8-bit arcade games like QBert. In this particular case, we have 2 guys playing against each other in Donkey Kong and it is viciously funny. While one guy, a family man, decided to take on the highest score since 1982, the holder of that record did a lot to stop him. King Of Kong is a true documentary that will draw you in to cheer for the good guy, the family guy, over the bad guy, Bill, who won't play in front of a crowd. This all sounds funny to you? Rent it. It's worth it to see how retarded guys can get and find themselves in a situation where he has to ask himself one question:

"Do I help my kid wipe his ass or do I beat this game?"

So, I'm going to endeth here as I am hoping tonight will be my first real sleep. Maybe I'll get an appetite. Maybe I'll start thinking of sex again. The flu does more damage to my mind than you want to know. Happy twats all around.

Gross Boy

"If you want peace, prepare for war."

-The Punisher

I've hallucinated before. It's a tricky little thing that has you wondering where you are thanks to the lack of sleep and food combined. Back in college, I got an acute infection in my throat that caused me to not sleep for 3 or more days. Think strep but not able to move your throat thanks to so much pain. Back then, I was in serious thinking that I was one of Ozzy Osbourne's kids.

It's 2008, right? Guess who thought he was in a small trail surrounded by mountains and bad men about to take him down with rifles. Still cannot figure out why a 1981 movie, The Lone Ranger, plays into my hallucinations.

To put it lightly, I'm sick with the flu, a very bad strain that came on after Thursday's work. Finished. Shook my boss's hand and walked out of that building in a rush. I could feel that things were getting real bad within me. The skin was so sensitive to the lightest touch, something you don't want when doing my job. It didn't help that a snowstorm came through as I was driving home. Normally, I'm fine with driving in the snow but not when I started shivering so bad.

What hurts? Everything takes longer. Walking, skin aches all over, peeing is a chore, sniffling all day, coughing, watching large amounts of phlegm shoot out of my mouth, sneezing, and seeing my mum get sick today. Gonna be a long week.

So, no, I was not planning on going to Indiana. Even if I was, I'd stay the fuck home. This is not a good time for Sara to get the flu, what with her new job. Plus, I'd rather she not see how pathetically weak I get walking up and down the halls here. I may bench press more than 3 of you put together but you'll see tears streaming down my cheeks from all the coughing.

Weird how my flu begins right on the day of 3 years with Sara. Wrote me a nice email telling me how she felt when first meeting me. Me in XX-Large shirts and Air Jordans and her dressed as an arty dark girl does make one wonder what attracted the two of us to each other. Funny how she said I wore her out in the first sex session. I'd never thought that possible because she always wants more.

So, I leaveth you here. I'm hoping I can spend some time sweating out the poisons that clog up my body. Push-ups? Could be. All this laying in bed has made me lazy, though. He-Man is a fantastic cartoon when you are more warped than you think. Can you really imagine a planet inhabited by people that look like it's normal for steroid binges? Happy twats all around.

Meat.......Meatball

"It's beginning to feel like Obama time!"

-Me

Are you as disgusted as I? I mean, we're used to celebrities putting out sex tapes. Paris, Pam with Tommy, and even New York did one. Now, it's Gene Simmons of KISS that makes me wonder how anyone would want to see one of the ugliest guys ever created fucking to music sung by Steve Perry. I liked Journey but to have sex during?

So, you're probably wondering how my Valentine's Day went. Might as well get that out of the way. It all started with me arriving at Sara's to a very surprised girlfriend. Thanks to nights spent working on The Vagina Monologues, she forgot that I was coming so early. I was wondering why it was well-after work and no Sara. It was annoying to wonder during such an empty stomach.

Sara walks in after her workout. Whoo! Ah do loves it when she works out after work. Must be nice to work in the same building that houses an upscale gym that she and I are members of. Weird to have 2 gym memberships but who am I to look a gifthorse in the mouth?

You know it by heart. Valentine's Day is impossible to get into a restaurant. After spending some time sitting on Sara's bed and being told that my balls are very obvious even while wearing baggy jeans, we hit the town in search of food. All the main restaurants were packed. I'm not kidding because the first one we made it to had a line out the door. Italian is very hot over V-Day. Very obvious. Not very spontaneous. You can just picture wealthy bores rolling meatballs into each other's plates as some form of passion. Off in a huff was Sara and I.

I guess romance is sitting in a small Italian cafe all alone. It was just Sara and I so you can cue up the anger towards me at being lucky over and over. Tis nice to have a restaurant all to ourselves where the special is meatballs and spaghetti with wine. Fuck the wine for I want Bud Light. Oh, garlic bread, how I love you right after some salad with blue cheese dressing. 1 glass of wine and I had to drive us home.

So, I know you might hate my luck or something. I know I would be if I had to read this schmaltzy shit. But it's true that things work out so well that I try not to jinx things by overthinking them. I wish the world would put down the controllers to video games, turn off the vibrators, close that bag of Cheetos, and turn off the computers. Just fuck. Enjoy not hiding behind characters and actually talk to people.

My Friday night was a very lonesome quiet one. Believe it or not, I spent it in the gym while Sara was doing the first showing of the play. A group of us planned to go the next night so it was me working on biceps and running on the treadmill in front of 5 large plasma TVs. Decisions were a bitch. Do I watch CNN, ESPN, or Tyra Banks showing how much she's lost her mind?

You could say I get lost in the gym. Many times, I don't want to be there. On this particular night, it was a cold walk. Only a few people inhabited the small amount of space. One of the trainers has a ponytail so I instantly think how He-Man has made his way out of the jungles and into the city. The other trainer on duty kept an eye on me. All males get their feathers ruffled when competition enters the area. All of them.

But I loved it. This was my first visit to the gym without Sara so I could go crazy without having someone insist we go home. On most of my stays in Indiana, I am lost as to what is going on in the world. Not this time. Those plasmas kept me smiling knowing Obama is on his way to beating the leader that cries and plays dirty in politics.

Life is not all good. Oh, no, no, no. I've just found out that one of my friends lost her job of 15 years, working at a leather store. Just over 15 fucking years she has put into this company that is now closing over 100 of its stores. Most of my leather jackets were bought there thanks to this woman that enjoyed it when I stopped by to talk. Sara lives in the same town her boyfriend is from so we know various places. While I asked the woman if she had another job lined up, I already knew the answer. No. When you're the manager, there is no time to take a moment to look. Various things have to be done before closing a store. You could tell this woman was so sad about all this. 15 fucking years and it's over. Job security is a thing of the past, seeing as those in charge aren't willing to budge on their own pay.

It's not just seeing my friend without a job. I'm scared, too. As you know, each month gets me more and more curious about moving to Indiana. I'd need a job that has me feeling safe and able to live a life. No one enjoys looking because that is a job itself, one that doesn't pay. Various people scrutinize you over the littlest things. The worst are managers that barely do a thing while the employees are put through hell. Man, remember my last job?

That's all I could think about on my way home from seeing a friend that's lost her job of 15 years. The store was a staple in our mall. She kept me notified of sales and held a jacket or 2 for me. Even the work I'm doing now is effected. My paycheck is smaller because I've volunteered to leave earlier so that others that need the money can keep going. No longer is it a walk-of-shame to go home. There are so many people around me that desperately need the money. You can tell because they're the ones walking to work in the cold.

So, you'll have to excuse my discussion on The Vagina Monologues. It's just not within me to tell you how I ended up on the dance floor with women draping themselves all over each other. There were plenty of pussy discussions. We're all quite open to a good talk on squirting, pussy stains in panties, and how angry vaginas get when confronted by cotton. Now, why don't they lube up tampons anyway?

Funny how I just read that a video vixen is selling her worn panties on the Internet for $24.95. At least there is one business never to go out of business. Why don't girls sniff guys' underwear more? Only one of my ex's did but that was to check to see if I had a 'wet dream' after waking up that morning. Sara just likes the smell of penis. Girls are just as naughty but in lesser quantity.

So, I'm outta here and hoping that my computer gets fixed up soon. My brother has fucked things up bad. Porn does that to the lonely. It pulls you in with promises of lust and images for nighttime masturbation. Gene Simmons just makes you wish he'd put on the KISS makeup again. Did you see that the girl wouldn't allow him to kiss her? At least the god of thunder kept his shirt on. Happy twats all around.

Locomotive Breath

"You're not fooling me.
Cuz I can see,
the way you shake and shiver."

-Scooby-Doo Theme song

Ever taken a look at yourself from a third-person's point-of-view? I didn't like what I saw in how I looked while playing the Nintendo Wii. It was at the apartment where 3 cats roamed and one of the girls decided to take pictures of us as we played Wii Tennis. Fun game. Fun expressions on people's faces during game play. Is that really me, though? I'm fucking huge and look like I'm ready for some kind of fighting sports. You, me in the octagon, baby. While I may have thick as brick forearms, you and I both know I'm more likely to get all goofy on yo' ass.

I'm just too fucking big! I tried to shrink a bit by lowering the amount of weight I lift. Shoulders being the only area I go all out on. Arms, chest, back, shoulders, and oh how I wish I had known better than to give in to whatever super powers are hidden beneath my skin. I'm just surprised how no one has ever asked me if I am Batman. Mighty Dog would be another one but I'd have to be covered in hair.

Another moment was where I spent some time at the sushi restaurant's bar. I'd had enough of being around so many girls all fucking day. No more vagina discussions. Just me with Carrie's boyfriend and a pack of cigarettes. I found myself hating me again when the boyfriend went over how he's had the same pair of sneakers for 5 years while I sat there knowing my 84 pairs were just plain ridiculous. That was shame. So, yeah, even though I was happy to be talking to a guy, not rambling on and on about various foods on the menu, it just gets to me how I've spent so many years gathering up materialism as if........as if I've gone mental. Took me a while, no?

Trust me. There is beauty in knowing your pathetic faults where you're stuck in the past. Some boys play too many video games. I lust for Air Jordan sneakers.

I know my last entry ended rather abruptly. My computer just plain fucked up last night. My brother's latest porn obsession seems to hurt it a lot. His latest interest, when not looking at various women being cummed on the face, is watching girls poop. It's sad when I have to find out my brother doesn't know how to delete his website history and I have to wonder if he's single because there isn't a gal out there willing to drop trou and leave a steaming pile out in the snow.

I'd also love to get into all that vagina discussion because there was A LOT. Let me tell ya, I am surrounded by women that are very vocal and proud of their pussies. While there are going to be a lot of jealous males out there, it's just all in good fun and being attentive during The Vagina Monologues. One guy tried to get into our little group that night but failed miserably. I'll dish on all that later.

If you talk about the beauty of snow, I will hurt you. That is all on that. I hate this cold. I fucking hate how miserable I feel when that sudden burst of cold air hits my cheeks while walking to my car. We can all be thankful that farts don't end up like our breath in cold weather. Would be kind of awesome for a few minutes, though.

Tomorrow will make it 3 years with Sara. Somehow, she sees something in me that none of my other girlfriends did. I can't even describe myself but all I know is that I'm pretty damn happy with Sara. We took a chance. We've said the dreaded "L" word, had the talk of what would happen if Sara became pregnant (abort the fucker!), had plenty of fights, medical scares, started acting like a real couple where we discuss life instead of what sex position we should try, and start to sleep each night where her head is on my chest. I'm not kidding when I say that the two of us have our best conversations in the shower. All boys are very attentive when their girlfriends have taken it upon themselves to clean the penis. That's a tip, girls. Write that down.

My guess to what's really cool, to me, is seeing Sara perform. No stage-fright. That girl was made to get up in front of 200 to 300 people, something I could do, too. We've both got this need to dominate a crowd no matter how ridiculous Sara and I can be. Of course, I will get into a discussion as to what happened with The Vagina Monologues and all those girls sexily dancing with other girls. I'll admit to being lightly fazed but........

The funny thing is that I now look for just a quiet weekend in Indiana. Haven't had one in a while. Holidays, plays, parties, and various things kind of take a lot of energy out of me. There really is no rest for the wicked, is there?

So, I'll be back with lots to tell. One of the coolest things was when Juanita (the large black woman) came up to me after her performance. How can you not forget an enormous white guy that has a habit of telling his dismay over the DJ's not playing Spice Girls for him? We'll talk pussy soon. I hope. Happy twats all around.

Vaginas Wear Me Out

"I asked if she (the DJ) would play Spice Girls. She said no."

-Me (I, being so lost when it comes to new music, just being.......me)

So, what can I tell you? I spent Saturday night sitting next to a large black woman named Juanita. All around us were women dancing with women. No guys. I, of course, had to lean over to say to Juanita that men pay for this kind of thing. Here, I get to watch women lustily drape themselves over each other for free.

Yeah, it's weird how going to Indiana has me feeling like I was in a whole other world, one I'm not used to. It was pretty much summed up by this: Vaginas, Vaginas, Vaginas, and more Vaginas. I'll get into that later on when I'm feeling a bit better. I'm not saying I'm talked out about pussy but there does come a time when I need a little rest from it. That's why I spent some much needed boy-time when one of Sara's friends brought her boyfriend to the sushi bar. I mean, I'm surrounded by girls giggling over things and fish! Does anyone else see a weird form of irony here?

Alas, I am not feeling well due to sitting in an apartment for a long period of time with 3 cats. It's known that I'm allergic. 1 cat, I can handle for about 3-5 days. 3? I'm pretty much feeling like a lardass is sitting on my chest. I hate having allergies towards cats because they can be so entertaining when you have a little red-light thingee that sends them scurrying after it. Flashlights work as well. Just don't get the cats stoned on catnip til after an energetic romp.

Sara was upset with me about not telling her how bad I was feeling. Yeah, but I was having fun in some ways because I got to take on the friend's boyfriend in a game of Wii Boxing (I lost) but beat his ass at golf (Something's wrong here. I should have whupped his ass at boxing but lost at golf). Boy-time is needed because I have always been surrounded by girls for almost 3 years. I'm not saying it's bad but............we're late, the bathroom is almost always in use, emotions

I Double Dog Dare Ya

"Sometimes, it's a toss of the coin. Heads, you're in the right place. Tails, you're life is nothing but a cess-pool of confusion."

-Me

Not completely in the talkative mood thanks to being a little worn out over taxes. If I'm as lucky as I was today, I just might get a fucking refund. Savings, baby. It's going into savings. Well, either that or to, finally, get that 50-inch HDTV I've been wanting because I love me something slim.

Alright, the amazing news. Richard, my friend that's worked with various bands in the past and occasionally with some recently (Remember him and The Police, last year?) to help in setting up the stage came up to me in the gym. He told me he has another t-shirt for me since it's his form of paying me back for all those bootleg DVDs I've been loaning him. It is nice seeing movies in the theater in your own home, no? We're just 2 goofy doofuses in the gym laughing about what we've seen while others look at us confused.

Well, a little-known band called Nine Inch Nails played our town years ago. Of course, they've hit it big in such a major way that pretty much everyone knows about 'em. Even I, one that doesn't listen to them, know who Trent Reznor is. Fascinating guy, of course. It takes a very special type to pour his heart out for others to read or listen to. Even the darkest have feelings. This tour for Nine Inch Nails was from their Downward Spiral promotion. Richard worked with the band and met Trent.

Now, get this. Trent gave Richard his t-shirt. Now, guess what I have sitting in my room upstairs. Let's just say that Sara is getting a major surprise for Valentine's Day because I'm giving her a t-shirt once worn by Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails! I'm curious as to how she's going to react to all this. Will the shirt be framed or worn? The damn thing has been in Richard's house for a long time just laying there under a lot of junk, etc. It's a weird world how I end up with being able to give something very meaningful to someone that spent a lot of time listening to his music through good and bad times. I mean, Nine Inch Nails is big for those that enjoy music that causes a person to thrash around or find beauty in ugliness.

Note: Richard watched Trent shoot up heroin while wearing the t-shirt. Weird. Should I tell Sara that?

Alright, enough of my damn good luck. I'm not feeling so emotionally sweet right now so I'll give you the gift of goodness once given to me by a friend's forward. The damn thing made my day long, long ago and, yes, I did post it on my old blog. Got a lot of responses about how nice it was to take a trip back. Now, relax and smile after reading this.

"Close your eyes...........and go back.....
Before the Internet or the Mac
Before semi-automatics and crack
Before SEGA or Super Nintendo....
Way back.....
I'm talkin' about hide and seek at dusk
Red light, green light.
Playing kickball and dodge ball until your porch light came on.
Mother May I?
Red Rover
Hula Hoops
Running through the sprinkler
Happy Meals
Wait........
Watchin' Saturday morning cartoons
Fat Albert, Road Runner, Smurfs, Picture Pages,
G-Force, and He-Man
Wonder Woman and Superman Underoos
Playing Dukes Of Hazard
Catchin' lightning bugs in a jar
Christmas morning.........
Your first day of school
Bedtime prayers and goodnight kisses
Climbing trees
Getting an ice cream off the ice cream truck
A million mosquito bites and sticky fingers
Jumping down the steps
Jumping on the bed
Pillow fights
Running til you were out of breath
Laughing so hard that your stomach hurt
Being tired from 'playin'.......
Your first crush
Rainy days at school meant playing 'Heads Up 7Up' in the classroom
Remember that?
I'm not finished yet
Kool-aid was the drink of the summer
Totting your friends on your handle-bars
Wearing your new shoes on the first day of school
Class field trips
When nearly everyone's mom was at home when the kids got there
When a quarter seemed like a fair allowance
and another quarter a miracle
When any parents could discipline any kid or feed him
or use him to carry groceries and nobody, not even the kid,
thought anything of it
When your parents took you to McDonald's and you were so cool
When being sent to the principal's office was nothing compared
to the fate that awaited a misbehaving student at home
Basically, we were in fear of our lives but it wasn't a drive-by
Shootings, drugs, gangs, etc. Our parents and grandparents were a much bigger threat!
And some of us are still afraid of 'em!
Didn't that feel good, just to go back and say, "Yeah, I remember that!"
There's nothing like good-old-days! They were good then
and they're good when we think about them
Share some thoughts with a friend who can relate,
then share it with someone that missed out on them.
I want to go back to the time when...............
Decisions were made by "Eeny-meeny-miney-mo"
Mistakes were corrected by simply exclaiming, "Do over!"
"Race issue" meant arguing about who ran the fastest
Money issues were handled by whoever was the banker in Monopoly
Catching the fireflies could happily occupy an entire evening.
It wasn't odd to have two or three "best" friends
Being old, referred to anyone over 20
The worst thing you could catch from the opposite sex was cooties
Nobody was prettier than Mom
Scrapes and bruises were kissed and made better
It was a big deal to finally be tall enough to ride
the 'big people' rides at the amusement park
Getting a foot of snow was a dream come true
Abilities were discovered because of a "double-dog dare."
Spinning around, getting dizzy and falling down was cause for giggles
The worst embarassment was being picked last for a team
Water balloons were the ultimate weapon
Older siblings were the worst tormentors, but also the fiercest protectors
If you can remember most of all of these, then you have lived
Pass this on to anyone who may need a break from their "grown-up life."
I DOUBLE DOG DARE YA!"

So, I'll be off to Indiana tomorrow. Hope this cheered you up or at least made you realize that all that 'playin' outside was worth it. Summer, your present is in the mail. Thanks for sticking with me all these years. Happy twats all around.

An Orgasm For Me And You

"Look at all that shines.
Baby's down on the world and she knows it.
If your spirit's running,
why don't we make it rain like we used to?"

-INXS's "Elegantly Wasted"

A weird thing happened today where I was wondering how I'd do something here on Blogger. Would I tell y'all about my gym's very amusing scandal-plagued times? It's best done if you attend and see whom I am talking about. You'll find me jumping up and down motioning for you to come over to where I'm standing. How do you find me? I'll be the one in an old t-shirt without the sleeves and majorly long basketball shorts. Always Air Jordan. Always.

So, we've got one of our trainers being arrested for not paying child support. That was last summer to start us off on scandals. Many women complained about him hitting on them while trying to work out. It was only tonight that I found out why 2 police officers took our trainer away. Having 3 to 4 kids is expensive for a black man, yo.

Next, we have 2 bodybuilders upset over something I still do not understand. The former owner, Kevin, took off over money issues. The other? A devoted follower of Kevin's. Good riddance to the follower for he was hated by everyone. Yes, some bodybuilders do actually allow their arrogance to grow by leaps and bounds.

Finally, we have a trainer that decided to allow himself many pickings in the litter. 3 or 4 women were getting some 'attention' after their workouts. Said women found out and dude was fired. I kind of knew that this guy, a fireman on the side, was up to something. Every night before the sessions, he would take the time to watch every girl in the gym. If the guy could wear binoculars to ogle every tiny portion of panties, camel toe, titty flying all over the place, or a hint of whomever was not wearing panties, he would have. It was almost like a classic 80's modeling pose where he'd put his foot on the bench and stare. Major ladies' man. But I wonder why does his personal life have him being fired.

So, ladies of the gym.....you are being watched whether you know it or not. If you don't like the color of your panties being known, wear long shorts. If you don't like the fact that someone has seen the top of your thong, wear something that stays put. Stop complaining, enjoy your tits and ass, and realize your own stupidity. I'm not. I don't care if someone knows I'm wearing black Calvin Klein's today or the hill of my balls as I lay down on a bench. Big-balled and proud.

Busy all day today thanks to the second-to-last erotic photography book coming in. The final one is not out til April but if you want to take a peak at my taste, it's Richard Kern's 'Looker.' After reading a little bit about his taste in nudity and models' poses, I'm not so sure. Female urination just doesn't excite me. Love the taboo stuff every now and then but pissing just doesn't grab my heart.

Since it is close to Valentine's Day and I will definitely not be here, I'll do what I did to make my Human Sexuality teacher laugh. We're weird souls and have a tendency to talk graphically about sex in the middle of the halls during college. One day, I walked right up to her and asked her to describe an orgasm. That one caught her off-guard. Just how the hell do you come up with words to tell someone that feeling you get when someone's touched your 'magic buttons?'

"It's like a sneeze in the loins."

That's what I said. Don't quote me personally because I got that from a writer back then. Damned if I remember who it was. The point is that I loved one of the best descriptions of what it is like to orgasm. You love it. Don't deny it. It's a part of why we enjoy cuddling up to someone in bed. They just fucked the holy hell out of us.

The most orgasms I've ever had in a 24-hour period would be 8. That's all Kristan and I did when she introduced me to sex. Her house was one of ill-repute because we never bothered putting our clothes back on. Just fucked and fucked again. By the time we got around to the 8th, my cock was shooting saw dust out. No more. Each orgasm got less powerful or barely felt. The sheets and room reeked of semen. This is what happens when you take a boy's virginity. I'm looking at very experienced girls that practically rape a poor guy just out of high school. Yeah, 29 versus 19 can teach a whole lot o' things in bed.

But can you describe your own orgasm? I know for a fact when I'm going to cum since there is this slight tingle in my balls that warns me. "Things are stirring, master." That's a definite way of putting things. There are so many tubes that semen travels through to find its way out. Have you ever taken a look at a diagram of all this? Orgasms are more fascinating than you think. For us males, we have to be able to counter your pussy's self-cleaning acidic liquids or sperm would die instantly. While some might say that sperm dying is good, others would like to create miserable little heathens. It's no surprise that I think people should have a license to breed.

The more semen, the better the orgasm. Simple as that. I create a lot, a side-effect of having large testicles, by the way. Score! I can feel that unique sensation build up so heavily that there is no return. I *think* ejaculation is clocked at 25-miles per hour. Even though it comes out the same hole, it's a lot different than pissing. Oh, lordy! 2 to 3 explosions and the rest just drips out for what seems like an eternity. Don't you love sex? Sometimes, I get a little annoyed with how messy it gets when I'm handed the kleenex box by a fascinated Sara.

It always weirds me out how there are always people that think sex is filthy or disgusting. It's in our nature to fuck. I cannot imagine being with someone that doesn't enjoy it. To achieve orgasm, it's like a dance. You make a move and I will follow your lead or just the opposite. There is beauty in how it all leads to the penis sliding into whatever hole is presented to him. I've never done anal so I have no clue as to the difficulty of pressing myself into such a tight hole.

My ex, Kristan, told me to never stop seeing the orgasm as something to consume. She always swallowed because it was her belief that she was taking in my life-force. I'll admit that it is quite erotic to watch a woman drink my cum or even flip the head of my cock around with her tongue as I drip. One of my favorite porn images of all time was a picture in Penthouse. A guy received a blowjob in the desert. Boring. It was the sight of a silhouette where the woman's tongue is underneath his cock collecting the large drop of cum dripping out that got to me. You really don't need to say such a thing about tasting a woman to a pussy eater like me. I'm a sloppy tongue gotta lick that thing for a good while type o' guy.

Obama's winning! Everybody do the Obama dance now! You just cannot sit there when the good guys are winning. Shake it hard to the left and then to the right. When you're too poop'd out, get out your lighter and drunkenly slur whatever comes to mind when you feel enlightened. It's kind of like when you see that bumper sticker that reads, "My kid can beat up your honor-roll kid."

So, I hope you enjoyed reading this. Yes, things get messy. Yes, it can be dirty but you have to go to the gym. Oh, you thought I was talking about orgasms still? Those, too! The dirtier the sex, the better it can feel. Tomorrow's all about going to the Post Office for a certain someone (*wink wink*), packing for Indiana, and being a cool collected cat about this fucking coldness sweeping the midwest. Happy twats all around.

I Was Born Ready, Motherfucker

"Only difference between a dream and a nightmare is how big your balls are, bitch."

-Wanted

Never really thought about things like that. I mean, I literally have some very large testicles attached to this body. Ask Sara. Ask any of my girlfriends. However, I don't think it's the size of them that make a damn difference when it comes to how a guy plays his cards. I mean, I kind of like shopping and even the fact that I write in a blog says something. Still, I kind of want Sara to measure them for that added masculine effect.

Spent all week with Sheryl Crow's "If It Makes You Happy" playing in my head. It's one of my favorites when I'm walking down a long hall or find myself wondering back to the days I was in college. The song, the video, everything just came together hard. Sheryl's also pretty damn nice to look at in her videos and I hated it when I heard she had cancer.

Well, that song had a reason for being there. The past few days, I wished I could come across a channel just accidently playing it. You know, like MTV *might* actually play a music video without some tween dancing around like a mentally challenged kid. Lucky me that Best Buy had a DVD containing all Sheryl's music videos. Right before work, I was transferred back to the days of listening to good music where it wasn't just how good a person looks. "If It Makes You Happy," "Soak Up the Sun," and "Favorite Mistake" were played til I couldn't take it anymore. 5 speakers blasting what my little dog considered noise made me happy.

Just this once, I had a feeling of total dominance when a guy that watched me work out paused in awe as I walked out of the gym. He had been watching what I did throughout my workout. Black leather and loose jeans was me walking out the door with no emotion whatsoever. It was a nice feeling to think that someone admires the pain I go through to try and find some sort of maleness in me.

My brother has a quote that annoys me because it doesn't fit him. I'll give you a little bit of it that kind of sums it up: "Chicks dig scars." I laughed a lot when I see my little bean-pole of a brother trying to attempt some form of acting tough. The boy has no muscle tone, face has damage from past acne, and thinks that his motorcycle gives him all the testosterone he needs for women to wet their panties at the sight of him.

I don't consider myself that masculine. I'll admit to looking the part but inside I'm a mess of all sorts of weirdness even I admit to being embarassed about. My mind's still stuck in the past thanks to how much I loved playing with my GIJoe figures, Nintendo, reading comics, jumping out of trees, and so much more you'd wished you could have seen me if you had become a ghost. To my brother, I just might be the key to what he is missing. I've got scars, my hand's got a small one thanks to dropping a weight bench on my thumb, underneath my chin is an obvious one thanks to someone slamming my head on a metal fence, and I'm sure there's more. Wish I could have had that one on my back from that infection last year. Remember that? Let's just say that it looked like an enormous zit bigger than you're used to having but smells when popped. The amount of blood in that thing? Wow. I was dripping.

Who knows. Sara has told me over and over that one of the geatest things about me (besides being able to let loose and be goofy without fear of judgement as she runs around a parking lot acting like a pterodactyl) is that I make her feel so safe. Walking down downtown, no one's going to mess with her. Last time, a guy turned his head downward as if he didn't want me to catch him looking at Sara. Leather has the power. Not me.

Work has picked up again. Found myself getting through it in the usual time but it flew, man. By the time it was over, I thought only and hour had passed. Weird. Sometimes, I just lose my goddamn self in there.

A lot of my crew are getting Valentine's Day off. Not just me. One of them has a major speech problem that takes him forever to get a sentence out. Forgot what it's called. Sometimes, I feel horrible for finishing his sentences for him. After much waiting, I got it that he's got a girlfriend. Isn't that nice? For me, it's not often that I find guys with disabilities as someone girls want. Seriously. It's more the other way around. Guys overlook 'em more often. I know, I know. I might get called out on this one but this is from my experiences.

It's just amusing to me how all these guys I work with are taking Valentine's Day off. We're the tough ones that don't sit at a desk pushing pencils so there might be some sort of dizziness in the time-zone where muscular guys walk the sidewalks with roses. Romance is a whole lot sweeter when thick forearms escort a girl to dinner. Am I right? Some are going to give me shit about that but I ask this. Have you ever been fucked by a guy with muscles instead of some bean-pole that thinks scars and a motorcycle is what makes you wet? Those that have been fucked from behind while gripped hard at the ass know it, yo.

So, I'm outta here. I'm bored by this entry and ready for some Sheryl Crow to sing me asleep. I'm dying for my boss to ask me if I'm ready for work on a good day. "I was born ready, motherfucker!" That's how to start it off. Happy twats all around.

Gonna Need A Bigger Post

"Smile, you son of a....................*gunshot*!

-Jaws (said right before he blows the shark up)

Wow. One actor I will never ever forget, Roy Scheider, died today. How far back do I go with that guy? A lot. Thanks to having terrible nightmares from watching Jaws at a sleepover for my daycare (Yes, they actually let us watch Jaws, a movie I picked out at the local library for the rented projector), I will never forget the man that got in that final shot to rid the small Island of a rogue serial killing shark. Roy was in a few other flicks like 52-Pick Up, The Jazz Singer, The Punisher, and Romeo Is Bleeding but will always be known as Chief Brody. Even the character's son came close to being eaten when he disobeyed orders to not go sail boating. Always. Listen. To. Dad. When. Shark. Is. Around.

Watching Jaws so young had some nasty effects on me. I may have grown up with a very respectable love of sharks but, to a kid at the age of 8 with blue carpet, the bed was a floating boat. Guess who wants to eat a spoiled kid that just saw his first 'Playboy Magazine' laying on his father's desk? Nightmares were the worst. My mom had to rock me back and forth because I was in hysterics making no sense. Yes, I do remember the nightmares very well. One was where I was swimming with the shark around but couldn't go down enough to finish the bowling rounds my mom was participating in. It doesn't make sense? You should have thought that first when I told you the blue carpet had me thinking it was the sea.

I'm all better now. I hope.

Today, I've learned that 1/4th of a bag of Dorito's Cool Ranch does not help in dealing with various things running in the back of my head. Will Sara like the flowers I'm going to pick up on Wednesday? I cannot stop thinking about wanting to move out of here and start something in Indiana. There's all these signs that say, "Get thee to Indiana, my strange blue-eyed friend." The logical sign keeps me grounded.

"We're in a recession, bitch!"

Yes, obviously, I feel like I'm losing my mind when I try to sleep. It wasn't til well after 2am that I was able to conk out. I'm usually a mess prior to leaving for Indiana. It seems to be the cold weather that makes me unable to believe in myself on anything.

I dunno. The hit on my paycheck kind of gets to me. While I'm not desperate for money in any way, it comes at a time where I started doing even better. No rain or snow to cause allergies that make me sleepy. Even my ex-boss said he was impressed. The other? He told me, too. So, why of all times does all this have to cut into my pride? Weird.

To give you an idea as to how volatile the weather is, I spent a great deal of yesterday's afternoon outside on a walk with 5-Pound Phooey. Barely needed a sweatshirt as we chugged along, pissed off a Pomeranian and its buddy, pooped 4 times, checked p-mail messages on the trees, and walked over a bridge. Today is a whole other story. While I did make it to the gym for my shoulder workout, it is freezing out there! We're going to be below zero in wind chill soon and those turds are now frozen pudding pops.

That would explain the Dorito's Cool Ranch snacking while watching Lindsay Lohan in Confessions Of A Teenage Drama Queen and VH1's Rock Of Love. It's my pathetic comfort food after another amazing lifting experience in the gym. 307.5 military press!

So, I'll let you go here. I'm a bit too down to go into my usual explanations within my freaked out head. Amazing how the cold air takes away creativity, ability to avoid bad snack foods, thoughts of sex, and a trip down memory lane when it comes to good ol' Mum trying to calm me down about the shark living in my carpet. Happy twats all around.

Goddamn Blues Again

"It's the African American versus the Vagino American."

-Bill Maher (describing the Democratic battle)

You know what? I feel so pathetic doing an entry right now. My only excuse is that it's raining and I have grown bored with HBO's Pornoccupia show. If there are so many others, why not show them? A guy can get tired of seeing the same old porn star over and over. Nice try at showing a porn star meeting the camera man only to lose out to a much richer male in the background.

Seriously. I'm always incredibly out of it on Friday nights or even some weekends because I no longer really care to go out. Too old to bar crawl. Too smart for the local pool hall. Sometimes, I miss college life, where the whole ideal was to learn and then discover friends and sexuality. It's only now that with my best friend dead and the other giving himself to Jeezus that I feel like a dope. If you don't understand all this kvetching, you will when all your friends get married and find that as being more important than keeping up with you.

Work sucked. I've had less hours for 3 days in a row. Now, to some people, they'd love to experience that because there just never seems to be enough time to relax. I've got the opposite issue in that I like to work because it takes my mind off of things. You should see the new bruise on my thigh that I didn't feel until tonight.

The worst thing about work is feeling you're not needed. Like a pathetic virgin, I play the little puppy dog in need of attention. It's either the recession taking a toll on us or too many people making things go by too fast. What's weird is that I just started getting so good at what I do, fast and furious, only to be told I get to leave early. What!?! Even one of my co-workers thought that was weird. Walking out of a large building in what feels like the walk-of-shame kind of hurts.

So, you see? Life isn't always perfect for me. I'm laying it out for you in that I go through bad times even if things do seem impossibly great. My mind goes in this little trance where I have to pep myself up again. This is why we need sex in relationships. Come home feeling shitty? Lose that with something kinky. Grab that whip. Get down on all 4's for me to release my sexual urges. Sara usually just grabs me and insists on being held, though.

Maybe I've got politics blues. Sick of being so scared about the possibility of another Republican in the White House.

Again, I miss my old life. I miss having all sorts of friends that I could rely on that lived nearby. No long drives with no stereo in my car. Just a good old fashioned hanging around the big screen laughing over the latest girl issues. Do we really need friends? I'd read a book but it takes me a while to get into that zone for such a thing.

So, I'm outta here as I make my way upstairs while it rains (yet, again) out there. You'd think it's romantic but would end up with me pushing you outside. I'd love to see you hopscotch over all the dog shit on the wooden deck without any light. Been there. Don't that. Happy twats all around.

It's All About Colors

"But now and then we tail and admit defeat
We're falling off we are watered down and fully grown.
Leave me lying here cause I don't wanna go."

-"Volcano Girls" by Veruca Salt

You know me. If I begin with a very rocked-out lyric, this all means I'm in a good mood. Strange how the weather can play tricks with my mind. Excessive rain and horribly blizzard-like snow can make me want to avoid being my pleasant self. Who am I kidding? I'm the verbally nasty boy that has had his inner sluttiness run rampant.

Romney's out! Romney's out! One Republican down so it looks like McCain is the man to be beaten to a mess of cow shit......hopefully. I'm hoping it will be Obama versus McCain and all this political squabble will end up only being between Republicans and Democrats. That's one of the reasons I love Obama. He doesn't give you the feel of being a politician with an agenda, just a guy that's willing to sit down with you and throw darts at a picture of Hillary.

Weird. My good old feeling good shows at work. Got pulled aside and told that I was impressive today. Little do these people know the power allergies have over me. Hella lotta rain makes me so sleepy because mold spores from the ground are released. Ultrarooster's all ready for a nap.

Took care of a few errands today. Did a few things before work where I now feel a bit caught up. Summer's gonna love this. That's one because I always like to find little birthday presents for people I've never physically met but would be totally invited to my mind's orgy.

Of course, next week is Valentine's Day. However you see it, this can be extra hard for me. 1). My first love broke up with me on that day. 2). Sara has a play on this day. The nice thing is that I can combine something. A play's performer generally receives flowers. Am I right? Today, that meant going out to an upscale florist that I've visited once before. They had what I needed at the last minute when I first bought flowers for Sara. Should have seen the look on her face after returning from work that night.

Buying flowers is hard for me. First of all, I'm so open to many different colors because I see the good in all. I'm not a fan of yellow but can work with that if it goes with the room's dark tone. Roses are so traditional. Orchids or anything with a deadly tone matches my inner-self. Lurking within me is an almost goth waiting to get out. Please, I'm so vain and playful that seeing myself in dark colors does nothing for me even if I did allow my nails to be painted black.

Boys, never fall asleep in a girl's dorm or said girls will paint your toenails and fingernails in whatever color they want. First time I ever found out what nail polish remover was. Had to call my mom while using scissors to try and scrape the nail polish off. True story.

Well, I went traditional today. Roses. I'm not sure if there were a dozen in the glass vase but the pictures presented to me looked nice. Picking out flowers is hard for us boys. While I'm fine here and there with various colors, what do I do to match the girlfriend? It's terribly tacky to call her up and ask. Sara's basically described, in as simple as I can be, as artsy with a dark feel. You'll see her paintings that carry a tone that's all about a bit of anger but happiness lurks. Well, those are the ones I enjoy seeing. These aren't simple portraits. No, no, no. The lines and shapes are unique so I worry about being too traditional.

For me, I love to see black roses. Where did this come from? I'm trying to find out from childhood where it all went wrong. Was my GiJoe collection consisting of too many ninjas? Why did I like just the bad guys when it came to toys? Is there too much black leather in my closet? Black roses just do it for me. Give me a silent evil appearance, the same as my favorite GiJoe character, Storm Shadow, and I'll be a happy male that just so happens to be in a flower shop run by a large gay guy with a squeaky voice.

So, how are you doing? It's tough to match flowers with the girlfriend. All day, I was debating within myself as to what to get. Would there be any roses available? I'm always wondering why people give stuffed animals on Valentine's Day. My dog love 'em but I just cannot see myself giving Sara something like that. See ten fingers? Sara would cut one off but I'd still be offered sex.

To all those that are single, it's tough both ways. I'm very competitive with myself when it comes to gifts. It always has to be perfect. You don't have to worry about the other's snoring waking you up. Farting happens, too. Sara grabs me in her sleep, completely out of the blue, and wakes me up. We fight while driving. Mr. And Mrs. Smith is almost like a reality to our relationship. February 21st will be 3 years. I'm nervous. I like having my ass smacked. I've gone bad. Happy twats all around.

Need Sunshine And Nudity

"I feel like I'm waiting.......for nothing.
I float on a line."

-"Cry You Out Of Me" by Sozi

The FX Channel is playing one of my favorite movies of all time, Mr. And Mrs. Smith. Just how many times have I seen it? *Thinks to self* I'd say around 25-30 and it gets better every time I see it. It's definitely one of Sara's favorites, seeing as she has it in her collection of DVDs after seeing it in the theater with me. My guess is that it's kind of personal between us, this movie, because they say that things like this that matter so much might be a basis on our lives. So, I'm Mr. Smith? He's got my issues I have along with a sudden finding out that he enjoys rough sex. How many got turned on at that fight between Mr. Smith and Mrs. Smith? I laughed first, though.

I'm so glad I got all that political discussion done. Just wish someone would say something about it or anything in regards to politics. How can you not understand this: Democrats are good. Republicans are bad.

So, Mississippi is going to allow restaurants to turn away the obese? Wow! I'm impressed with this law or amendment in helping us rid the world of these fucking losers that take it upon themselves to just eat. I've always taken great pride that, even though I have an occasional Cheeto lapse, I still get my butt into the gym.

Now, you might wonder why I'm so hard on the obese. It's simple. Studies have shown that these people have been fucking up health care so much. People say shit about smokers. Cop-out. The obese, those that sit around eating and whining about being 'big-boned,' are sick more often and take up too much space to the point that we now have to add XX-Large as a size more common. If you're going to bitch-out smokers, be fair and add those fat fucks as well. It's also child abuse for the abuse to allow their own kids to take up their bad habits. Sara and I saw a little girl that must have weighed over 150 pounds while sitting with her obese mother. We're talking about a 10-year-old. I barely weighed 75 when I was around that age. Twinkies and macaroni and cheese is not one of the major food groups for everyday life.

Note: I was 165 pounds as a freshman in high school thanks to discovering weight-lifting. Hoo-rah!

Want to know why I'm slightly grumpy and a little bit down? Weather. It's been so fucking bad. Monday was the badass mist. Tuesday was constant rain where floods were everywhere that we've never seen 'em. Today was all about a sudden drop in temps after a very quick heavy snowfall. I've been cold all day and dying to be outside to run around with 5-Pound Phooey. She's been just as grumpy as I am while staring out the window in my room. Putting on a poncho and running from mosquitoes doesn't sound so bad now.

I hate work, too. That's a whole other story with me being slightly depressed. I don't want to do anything that involves going into a giant building and wearing myself out for the almighty dollar. I'm in this thought pattern that I'm too far behind. Flowers and Summer's birthday gift still loom large. It would be different if I walked into a room where Sara insists on curling up underneath a large comforter. I need sunshine and nudity.

What is nice, and might help get me out of a funk, is that I have Thursday and Friday off for next week. Of course, that's Valentine's Day. A boy has to put on a performance in the bedroom after the girl puts on hers in a college auditorium. You know what I'm talking about.

A fellow blogger told me she sees 'The Vagina Monologues' as too feminist for her. While I would have agreed in the past, I don't see much of a problem with getting up on stage and being proud of what's in between my legs. Guys talk about their dicks all the time and it's worse when we're drunk.

The whole concept of the vagina is seeing it as another mouth. One gets fed while the other drains men dry. The Vagina Monologues goes a bit deeper by discussing the major issues not quite as well-known as I thought. Female circumcision or vagina mutilation are still not as frowned upon as they should be. Why? Not as many know of this and it's also seen as okay as long as it's under a religious cree. Freaky to know that a man can cut a woman's body up as long as Allah sees it. No pleasure because the clitoris is cut off and the sex will be painful from the vagina's opening being sewn shut. I'll never forget that woman's book on how she escaped the Muslim tradition her family set out for her. When she was forced to be circumcized, the opening allowed was so small that peeing was extremely painful.

But the males love it. Anytime the vagina's opening is tight, it makes the pleasure so much more enhanced. The wet walls sliding along our cocks give way to a very explosive orgasm that make sex past 10 minutes impossible. It's no wonder Allah is a guy and allowed to have many wives while so many males tell us that being a Muslim is so great. You can keep your women in line with all this religious bullshit. She can't enjoy sex so why would she cheat? She can't leave you because she's uneducated. Score!

So, I'm out of here as I feel like I'm forced to cry myself to sleep. I don't look forward to tomorrow. The cold air with occasional blasts of snow or rain just makes me want to forget all my goals. I float on a line. Happy twats all around

Let's Hear It For the Boy!

"I did not crawl through muck just so you can listen to your i-Pizzies (i-Pods)."

-The Big Lebowski

A funny thing happened to me at the polls that might explain why I voted for who I did. An older lady had a hard time understanding that I am allowed to vote at the polling station. It took some time for her to realize that my address allowed me to do so. Normally, it would take me less than 5-minutes to do my thing and get the fuck out feeling free after voting. Not this time. The older lady had a hard time understanding the street I live on, a very well-known one with wealthy people inhabiting it.

Obama. That's who I voted for as those of you whom have read me for some time can attest to. Hillary just makes me feel a small bit of scorn with the feeling she lusts for power. Loved Bill, her doting and reliable husband that has a naughty habit of placing cigars in a lady's 'secret garden' area. The reason for my above distaste for the older lady was not meant personally but for how the older generation continues to not realize how a quick mind is needed. Obama is young, as referenced to him being the next John Kennedy. McCain is 70something and lost his goddamn mind in thinking the surge in Iraq helps us (How? 3 million Iraqis left. That's one of the many reasons deaths are down but nothing to do with the military's surge. Period) and how our presence in the Middle East is not the reason for Islamic nuts hating us (Osama said that it was us being in Saudi Arabia that pissed him off). I doubt McCain even knows anything about what matters to those under the age of 30. He'd be surprised at how much we care about this world and hate how corrupt old men continue to worsen it.

I'm not hating on the older generation. I love old farts. They tend to smell at times and even poop their britches at where I work but they make blessed home companions when it comes to the Antique Roadshow.

"Hey, I owned that! Napolean gave that to me after he conquered Europe! Would have been able to retire and not work at McDonald's."

Frank Lutz has a neat little article in the latest issue of Playboy Magazine about how Democrats have the more interesting sex life. They enjoy who they are doing while Republicans just dream of others, most likely President Reagan or some soul sucking demon like Newt Gingrich. My guess is that we Democrats are more willing to experiment with whips, chains, hand cuffs, lube (lots of lube), sex in public, pee play, S&M, threesomes, and the gold mine itself, an orgy. So, when asking the person next to you who he/she voted for don't laugh when they name a Republican. They probably aint getting any sex or this person is only allowed butt plugs for his birthday.

Back to the older generation.........I was in Barnes & Noble ordering 1 of the final 3 erotic photography books to complete my collection. The old guy next to me had an "I Voted Today" sticker on his chest. This demanded my immediate attention because I was curious as to whether the polls were crowded. "No" was the answer. What did make me laugh is how I just had to talk about the evils of Republicans and tell him how pathetic Romney is. The man's facial expression was priceless. Mad, really mad.

Go ahead and tell me I'm a pathetic imbecile for getting on the backs of people that voted for someone I detest. I've asked people why they voted Republican and it's almost always "Just cuz" and no real reason. What I have been very determined in my take on all this is that we not only need change but for someone that actually knows what is going on. Fox News did it best by showing how out of touch the older people have become. One of their new anchors LAUGHED at Heath Ledger's death on the air. Of course, he apologized later (forced, duh). It's been proven time and time again that those past the age of 50 only seem to care about getting richer or getting their friends richer all while not caring about how hard it is for people to get jobs, health care, and so many things you yourself can add in the list.

McCain lived in a box for 5 years, thinks we should be in Iraq even longer since the surge is working, and has not been let out since. Romney looks like Frankenstein and thinks Reagan, one of our most horrible presidents behind Bush Jr., is a god. Hillary enjoys power and will whore herself out for votes by crying. My kind of leader is cool, calm, and collected all while knowing there the chicks are at thanks to ears as big as satellite dishes. Obama is one badass cat.

Don't worry. I will quit with politics for a period of time. I've yet to let out my dream of being the host of an amazing orgy where Sara joined with views of her own. Plus, I do have that upcoming event where I have to sit in an audience with girls that are going to discuss their vaginas. Is that relaxing or what, for me?

"Just what did you put up there when you were in college? The whole Crayon box?"

If it's not fog, it's the rain. It rained all damn day. I've never driven down my street and seen huge amounts of water spin out of my car's tires. Never. It didn't stop me from voting but it did annoy me at work and in the gym. Parking lots suck when you've gotta run like you've got a bad case of the runs in your pants.

So, I'm gonna let y'all go here after a small bit of preaching. Bored. Already caught up on my favorite porn forum's latest batch of nudes, tiring of girls that constantly take pictures of their food for their blogs, and found myself telling my former boss that he can see my muscles once it gets warmer again. That just did not come out right when my co-workers looked at me strange. Happy twats all around.

Ultrarooster Eats Cookies

"I do it all for me grub."

-T-shirt slogan I love

Well, I'm back and what can I tell ya? How's about late night cookies, stuck with a bunch of drunken older folks, and trying to explain to Sara's dad what a black fraternity stance is when the Patriots' Randy Moss did it. That's for all my Q-Dawgs out there. Y'all still feeling me?

No, I was never in a black fraternity. I'm white and knowledgeable with a huge side of cynicism. It should also come as no surprise that I tend to follow my dick. Yes, I went to Indiana even after much pleading from various people about the weather. 10-inches of snow is nothing to me. Roads are generally clear in the early evening if no more snow comes down during the day. It's that fucking simple so off I go to relieve this sexual frustration of needing to be bedded on cold days.

It's hard to explain how I feel at times because Mondays after a weekend in Indiana have me so fucking tired after coming down. I've got the drive home, work, and then it's possible I can make it into the gym. Wears me down so here I go.........

Ever seen Stephen King's The Mist? Might have read the book by the same name? It's kind of what we've got going on here in Indiana and Illinois thanks to the sudden humidity after the snow. I could barely see in front of me on the way home. Yeah, I still drove at close to 80mph but had to tone it down at certain turns. Some people have no driving ability when it comes to such heavy fog.

What's really eerie is the fog got so thick after work that even I got worried about getting home. Stop signs were impossible to see. 12 accidents happened today. These were mostly about people driving through stop signs while various people gave up driving altogether. Cars were left parked on the side with their flashers on to warn people not to hit them. Why leave yo' damn car in the street, fools!?! I swear people get dumber every year. Many of them are the type that vote for Republicans.

But the cookie thing was cool! Here I was standing in Sara's kitchen complaining about how I was dying for a cookie after seeing her eat chocolate chip ones from a store. Made me jealous. Sara has a plan. A new shop opened up for insomniacs in need of a cookie/milk fix like no other. 6 dollars is the minimum buy in order to get a delivery of hot melting cookie. Yum, yum, yum. Good ol' Mr. Money Bags here got himself a major cookie fix with a warm macadamia nut white chocolate and an oatmeal raisin one to add to it. Strawberry milk was used to wash it all down as Sara and I along with her roommate went right back to watching E! Channel's Girls Next Door. I'm just one of the girls when I visit Indiana, sometimes. We gossip, eat cookies, and play with each other's hair. It takes a long time for women to allow a guy to see them lose brain cells on fixes almost as dangerous as heroin. Cookies are a gateway drug but even harder on women, seeing as it will soon have us wondering how fat we got the next day.

Sara thinks I'm pretty crazy for spending $95 on an erotic photography book. Me, too. Nice book but a bit too pricey for such a nice impulse buy right before heading out to Indiana. I'm no longer fazed at women looking at pictures of naked women. A well-shaved cooter does that to all the lovely women I'm surrounded by.

Got my ass stuck in a pub thanks to drunken old farts thinking that it's alright to celebrate Mardi Gras when all I want is that most delicious cheeseburger and waffle fries ever made. It's been a long time since I've had this heart attack inducing type of burger, 2 giant onion rings on top of 2 strips of bacon with barbeque sauce, and I had an excuse. Too many of the servers were ordered to spend the time handing out shots. Ever seen a 50something guy do a shot? There's a pause for the dentures. Sara and I were pissed off about the wait and feeling like we were stuck. Well, we waited it out even if the drunken people's need to pound on tables around us annoyed us even more. I'm all for drinking but the older generation needs to hold back on these things by taking care of it at home. Wild Turkey, a large dog and an E-Z-Boy chair are a lot better than the younger generation worried if this will one day be them.

Nothing like surprising Sara by walking in the door while she's sending me an email telling me how horrible the snow is. I know. I just drove around so close that window!

Right now, 10-inches of snow has become giant mounds of slush as the humidity suddenly came upon us. 53 degrees! One day we need thick leather jackets and the next? Just a long-sleeved shirt. My Ghostbusters one was a hit. With guys, it's always a trip down memory lane.

"Oh, I loved Peter, Egon, and Ray! Do you think Egon ever did their secretary, Janine? What kind of wild animal was she when it came down to it? A total mounting in the way a lion takes his mate? Or would she learn some sort of freaky shit from seeing so many ghosts?"

This stuff matters, people. While I get annoyed at the drunken schenanigans of homeless old farts, I enjoy seeing people forget about all that with some sort of pillow talk about our Hollywood characters we grew up with. I still think Velma of Scooby Doo was hot, hotter than Daffney. Fred was gay, okay?

So, I am outta here with a vengeance. Let me tell ya this. Sex recharges the mind so I'm all free for a limited time. Getting some reminds me of why I am still alive and have no need to do have everyone pause while putting teeth back in my mouth. Happy twats all around.