Monday, March 31, 2008

From Chicago With Love

"Tommy was a pleasure to have in my vagina."

-A tell-tale sign placed on the report card by a female child molester, most likely found in Tampa, Florida.

So, I am back and getting closer and closer to collapsing. I did it all, woke up early, drove home, went to work, did 150 push-ups/sit-ups, and caught up on the latest gossip from within this house. There is nothing better than feeling so closer to death's door.

Let this entry be a warning. There is much to tell but, unfortunately, it will have to wait. So much has to have the right words to give you an idea of sheer horror and excitement. Yes, Sara and I did meet the author but how did we get there? That's the horror part, something from my personal viewpoint.

Another reason, beyond the tiredness I am facing, is that I got hit on the head 3 times by large heavy boxes. Things just crashed down onto me as I was at work. Normally, I would be ready for these things. My back was turned so an easy victim was I. It was quite embarrassing all while worrying about a possible concussion. Even my vainness came into play as my co-worker tricked me into thinking blood was pouring down my head. All bloodshed is to be reported immediately yet there was much work to be done. Of course, I came out alright in the end, tired and feeling a bit of a headache.

Oh, I've been hit harder than that, too. Alas, I cannot go into further details.

The one thing that gets me is how stupid America is and how the race for the presidency just reinforces it all. McCain is all about telling us we should be in Iraq for at least 10 years or more. Seen the economy? Being in Iraq is part of it. Hillary? Lying about sniper fire just because you were sleep-deprived? Jeez, I'm tired a lot, too, but I never type up delusional thoughts here. Obama? Force a man to talk about race just because a reverend had the balls to criticize America? A lot of things out there are rather simple in cleaning up. Why should we bail out banks that make risky errors like the sub-prime shit? Why did we use the Patriot Act to catch a man pulling out thousands of dollars to pay off his hookers? Didn't Bush say this was to catch only terrorists?

CNN had a story about how awful it is for those with high paying jobs only to lose them in this recession. People being interviewed kept saying how it was beneath them to take jobs that meant far less money (wages) for them to lead that amazing lifestyle they once led. No more Bloomingdales? Suddenly, they are forced to put on smiley faces as they enter The Gap? Oh, how I hate that as well. Clothing just isn't the same unless it's a starving Chinese worker sewing the buttons on a $100 shirt. You need the tears embedded into the fabric or it's just not worth it.

It's funny how CEO's and various bosses talk about how the people beneath them must work everyday for such low pay but cannot do it themselves when demoted.

So, I must be off into my other world. You know the type, La-La Land, because I'm just too tired for reality. The Primaries and in-fighting continue to bore me because it's no longer about issues. Can you trust that someone to answer the call at 3am? Hillary would be looking for Bill. Obama is too busy trying to dumb down things for idiotic Americans to understand. McCain? He's up anyway because he's busy peeing. Happy twats all around.

Thursday, March 27, 2008

Brown Girl Of Death

"Know this, telemarketers.
When you ignore the innocents
saying they are uninterested,
I will become interested.
When you trick them into ordering,
I will treat them to your suffering.
And when the phone rings in the dead of dinner,
I will answer with bullet and blade.
I am Bun-Bun!"

-Little Evils by Sluggy Freelance (Never call a switchblade wielding bunny at dinner)

Almost had a car accident, a big one. A small Indian girl on her cell phone just decided to turn into my lane with no warning. My first thought was:

"Since when did Sammy come into town? Wow, she's still mad at me and she means business when off her meds with a cell phone!"

This will be the only time I will admit that a small brown girl could scare me. No blinking light to tell me she was going to get into my lane. Just a sudden right turn and I'll admit to eye-hand-coordination from video games paid off.

I've got to leave this weekend. My heart, as of this moment, just isn't into this trip to Chicago all thanks to rain, rain that has gone on or threatened for the past few days. This weekend, we are supposed to get more. That's just not something you want to have happen when going on a nice trip to get away, especially to meet an author. Sara loves Christopher Rice's books while I've yet to read one. I know, I know I'm bad at getting started on things ever now and then. You already know it by heart. This week's work has worn me the fuck out to the point that all I wish to do is have head hit pillow underneath a soft comforter.

Of course, I do want to see Sara, just with sunny skies. The past few days I've thought redo because of how late I was falling asleep. Sara was out. It's her bed so she's used to it. I, on the other hand, have cat allergies so I have to sleep face-up or my right eye will swell up. Since the cat, Lenore, likes to come in and leave hair or cat dandruff on my pillow, it gets into my eye easily. You'd think I was completely baked out of my mind if you saw my eye.

Not sure what to do about Sara's roommate. Still on the outs when it comes to her. A part of my frustration (I do not hate her. She's nice in some ways.) has to do with how she treats Sara. How can you just drop your garbage on the floor and leave it!?! I, seriously, do not get that at all. Plastic bags from Target are left for weeks. There are times where I think the roommate wishes I were not there so she'd have Sara all to herself. With very few friends, a girl can get this way.

Work was slower today. Hooray! You'd swear that a large herd of ferrets with squeaky voices were behind me saying that. Things might be slowing down. Yes, I know they will go back up but I'll take what I can get in not having my body feel so worn the fuck down.

Oh, I'd like everyone to take their hats off and give 5-minutes of silence due to a comic book store burning down. A town I pass through had a large downtown fire suddenly happen. One of the major places hit was a bookstore with comic books as well. I was horrified to hear this. All those books and comics that won't find themselves being read! You can burn the flag but not even the worst book of all should suffer such a fate.

That would explain where I got the quote for above. I've slowly fallen in love with a graphic novel containing a cute killer bunny rabbit that packs a switchblade, a man-eating-alien, 1 nerd, 1 guy that makes deadly toys, a girl once possessed by a demon, 1 woman that is suffering from bad grades as a result of the people/things I've just mentioned, and a cute ferret that likes to karaoke to Air Supply. Little Evils is one of the most demented online comic strips ever but for nerds only. A lot of geek jokes and, yes, all male fights will stop on the event of a woman's boob coming into view.

Tits are just cool to look at and even better is when they suddenly appear at unexpected times. However, I'd still karaoke with a ferret any old day.

I'm just not into packing right now. I can look to my left and see that my bag is partially full. 1 pair of cargo pants is in there while 2 pairs of Calvins await their placement in keeping mah balls from flying all over as I walk the city's sidewalks. What is bothering me is not knowing if I Sara and I are staying a night in Chicago or coming back right after the book signing. The Shedd Aquarium is what I'd like to visit while she's most likely into going to art museums. Fight will take place on Michigan Avenue and it's not going to be pretty.

So, I'm going to let you go here. This is the first time I'll admit to being a little lonely here on Blogspot. Pretty much daily, I've told you my thoughts and inner weirdness but I miss how the old blog felt like a large gathering. Had a lot of online friends while this one is much quiet thanks to so many lurkers. What is it with you people!?! It's creepy to wonder if I'm laughed at or with. All this came about thanks to a little visit to my old blog and seeing how so many people jumped ship. I miss getting so many comments, even the mean ones. Happy twats all around.

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Every Boy Loves A Handjob

"The strength of the wolf is the pack.
The strength of the pack is the wolf."

-Rudyard Kipling

Beaten. Worn out. Dog-tired. Shoulder's sore. Eyes barely able to stay open. Can't find any ability for anything to say in emails.

Oh, but I had a great time telling one of my co-workers about a handjob I received from Sara long ago. Boys talk about that kind of stuff because it helps work go by faster. Anyway, this story was one some know by heart where after some time on the interstate, Sara got it in her head to get my penis out to play with. One thing led to another and I'm hard with a nicely lubed up swollen bundle of joy. Remember that? I asked Sara if I could cum.

"I've been waiting."

Out came my large sticky massive mound of joy up to the ceiling of the car! It wasn't the fact that I came but just the event of doing something naughty. It's not the last handjob I've received.

The trick is to lube it up just enough that the hand's grip still provides pleasure. Start from the base and stroke upward. Twist either lightly or hard when you reach the head of the cock. Start slow to tease, speed up at a slow pace, and then crank his cock til his eyes roll back. It's incredibly erotic to watch a girl lick the cum off her hands, too.

'8th Grade Handjobs' are the types you'd expect a moronic girl to give, no lubrication in any form such as saliva or lube.

My black co-worker doesn't eat pussy. He says it smells so it's his loss. I think all women realize that a good old sloppy tongue massage down there makes a guy a keeper when this is combined with major boy-skills in the proper art of wooing. Why do I say this? Because Mexicans love to eat pussy but they lack in a lot of things when it comes to dealing with women. This is from what I've seen as many males have had things thrown at them by their wives/girlfriends thanks to the latest fuck-up.

If you like photography and the greatness found in the American family, there is a photography book out called 'America At Home.' Lots of nice pictures taken in various families' homes. Everyone seems to have their own special talent or interest depending on where they grew up. One raises Husky pups for dog-sledding, a homeless couple fell in love, a little girl grows up on a winery thanks to her guardian, and so on. Everyone has a story to tell and I love reading this while getting to peer into their homes for what interests them. Beware. There is a small amount of time given to foreclosures. No one enjoys seeing things like that, where families lose their homes over loss of jobs or their own stupidity (this sub-prime thing).

The one thing I learned? No one has as many books, DVDs, and various materialistic things like me. If my old pack of friends were still around, this wouldn't have happened. Read the quote above and you'll get why. Friends help us no matter how old we are and nothing showed that better than the small Scrabble game going on in my Barnes & Noble today.

So, I'm going to shorten this entry due to sleepiness. You can tell I'm getting bored with blogging, seeing as my entries are less what they used to be, longer. Oh, well. Blame it on having a new life. It's no wonder I burn calories so fast, seeing as I'm all over the place til the night comes. Sara and I will be off to Chicago this weekend to get this author's autograph. Happy twats all around.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Drip Master Is Mother's Job

"The wild-at-heart should never be kept in cages."

-Me

Been sitting here thinking if this is what we call 'life.' It's a mildly cool night where I found myself walking 5 Pound Phooey on the usual route around the lake. After another long performance at work, time in the gym, and the walk, I feel as if I've got the effects of aging upon me. I'm young but even I cannot go without laying in bed to stare out into a starry sky's impossible effects. 'I'm so, so tired' is what I keep saying over and over again.

So, this weekend? Sara and I spent a bit of time looking over used/new furniture in an old school. It's getting close to that time where I just might have to fold my Calvins and socks into a drawer while Sara's will be in the other drawers. Scary. I'm going to be shopping for a whole new collection of fabrics that grip my balls since there is annoyance in constantly bringing my clothes back and forth. Will all this find its way into Sara's dirty laundry basket so I come back to underwear and socks folded her way? I tend to do it the department store's method where the buttons on the button-fly are on top.

We've destroyed the old mattress so we're looking for one of those, too. Nothing to see here.

Do you place your kid in the microwave? One guy did and the little girl ended up extremely burned. Hope this guy ends up hacked to pieces. Oops! I didn't know you needed your fingernails!

You know what's funny? I think I give you this picture that sex is pretty much all Sara and I do. Totally not true. We're too tired from the day's/night's activities to even think that. Well, at least I am. Parties, catching up with friends, seeing the parents and coming back bloated from too much food eaten to please them, cat allergies for me, errands to fill prescriptions, local sports teams in the news, the Pony League World Series, custard from the ice cream stand, a visit to the local Wolf Park, more errands, and so many other things. By the time bedtime comes around, I'm nearly out. I don't think Sara and I have ever had a quiet weekend.

It's been discovered in research that the best orgasms take place between 1 and 5pm. Too bad we're generally at work, huh? If it's the weekend at home, I'm napping with a very hairy little dog next to me. If I'm in Indy, I'm probably out having lunch thanks to bedtime being around 2 or 3am. Wish the best orgasms happened during a more available time period like..........right before work. Who doesn't like going out the door after being given a good blowjob or licking!

Yes, I'm still mad about Sara's roommate going through my stuff. It's not the first time she's taken something out to watch when we've been gone. I've always tried to figure out the issues I see with this girl that thinks things should be hers when they clearly are not for her. Period. The kitchen is a complete disaster thanks to plastic bags being left on the floor, opened food canisters, crumbs, coffee grounds, spilled liquids over the oven, and so on. Sara doesn't cook because of all this, the roommate taking over this place as just hers. It pisses me off to see an artist having to defend this apartment area's white-trash look.

Would you believe it snowed on Sunday? Not enough to see piles of it all around but it did snow.

I suck at Scrabble. Sara and her mother destroy me all the time. Yes, this is what we did on Sunday evening before dinner. You find yourself involved with family traditions at some point.

We'll be in Atlanta on my birthday so far. Still trying to figure out if I want to dress up as a superhero or show off some form of inner-geek while attending he latest convention of nerds/dorks/dweebs/losers/lardasses/and whathaveyou. All arms attending these things are the size of a broom handle unless he spends all his time with pizza and World Of Warcraft on the computer. Superman does not have such an appearance. How dare someone that thin or fat try to imitate the Man Of Steel.

So, I am outta here as I try to make sense of why I'm so bloody tired. Couldn't even muster a finger to change the channel when Keeping Up With the Kardashians aired. Oh, the horror for young girls to have the teachings of their mother on periods. Apparently, the fact that pads are going to be the starting point to contain their drips will be known to us all! At least we learned that the gay guys can dress those that seem to be without hope. Happy twats all around.

Monday, March 24, 2008

Bad Roommate

"We painted underwear with mackerel oil and sold them to men as used knickers."

-Dian Hanson

There you go! Having trouble finding extra income thanks to suffering from an obvious recession? Just go out and buy a large pack of Hanes Her Ways, apply some of what the lady above suggested, and you can make some major dollars off of panty sniffers. Gawd, I am so jealous of women being able to sell their worn panties.

I'm back. It's normal to feel this tired. Being woken up at 5am for goodbye sex, drive home, go to work, do 150 push-ups and sit-ups that not many humans can do, and catch up on a few magazines. It's life for me but I'm still susceptible to the after-effects where I find myself dreaming of sleeping. Dreaming of sleeping. Weird.

Since people seem to love drama, Sara and I did have a little thanks to her roommate. My bag was gone through by this girl that tends to leech off of Sara. Be it, gas and friends, Sara's roommate has made things her own. But since when does this girl have the right to take my Battlestar Galactica DVD set out of my bag and watch about 6 episodes!?! I did not leave this out in the living room where we found her acting as if nothing was wrong.

I've had a hard time wondering why Sara takes all this shit from the roommate. She does nothing but leech off of Sara pretty much everyday in some form. Sara is the one to take the recyclables, drive her to errands like Target, and to parties with Sara's friends. This roommate does nothing for us all while laying around watching our DVDs. The worst is the kitchen where it looks like a disaster thanks to cooking where everything is left out on the counter and table. This really annoys me when the girl thinks the apartment is just hers. I don't get a kick out of shopping adventures because this roommate drops the plastic bags on the floor and leaves them there. Always.

Call it what you want but I'm pretty much suggesting to Sara that the two of us will watch DVDs in her room's computer. Less in the living room. I pretty much hate how we watch a show and this roommate has to sit down and join us, especially after having to listen to her tell us that she wants the apartment to herself. We NEVER get it to ourselves because the roommate has no fucking job, just school on a loan.

It's kind of weird how there are those of us that have no love of religion but celebrate these Holidays. Easter. It's one big mess for me because I cannot eat chocolate. Do you know how many chocolate rabbits I keep seeing that I'd like to just bit their fucking heads off!?! M&Ms? Oh, how I love you so! Cadbury Eggs? I'm rather pornographic in that I will break them in half and allow the inner portion to just drip into my mouth. I look like a pornstar that just had a massive 'money shot' in the mouth as I wipe mine off.

Sara and I seem to be getting stronger. Nothing like drama to bring us a little closer, eh? I'm hoping that she sees how much of a leech this girl has been and cut her the fuck loose. I don't care if you are living on a loan. You help pay gas and do some of the work to keep the apartment nice. Leave the boyfriend's stuff alone and pick up the goddamn plastic bags from Target.

We tried a game of dirty Scrabble after dinner. Our only major accomplishment in this area was 'tata' and that was by me. 'Testee' didn't have the impact we were looking for because that's just about anger. Would have had 'slut' but I was missing an 'S.'

So, I must be off as I make this later than usual entry. Ya know what? This is the second time I've been woken up for early morning sex. I laugh at this. There is genius in the female species that realizes that 'morning wood' is there for a reason. Happy twats all around.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

How's Yo' Eggs?

"I love your fuckin' titties 'cause they're big and round.
I'm glad you wore that top because they pop right out.
I don't care if they're not real.
Just lemme cop a feel."

-The Titty Song

I'm excited. You should feel my nipples because they're rock hard as I await word to get out of work for that drive to Indiana. Of course, that means my balls are smooth, pubes are pretty minimal, face has no whiskers, and all I can think about is having everything licked. There is something special when she holds my balls up and licks underneath.

When work gets bad (which has been for 2 weeks straight), people try to find ways to make it better. We'll laugh over basketball players getting emotional during standing ovations. For me, it's been all about people showing me their biceps. Why has it come to this? People I work with have been telling me how amazing I look or try to mock my large arms by flexing in front of me. It started yesterday when my cool-as-shit co-worker tells me to watch him flex his medium size biceps. Then, my boss wants me to see how much smaller he is than I am. And, finally? One of the girls took the time to tap me on the shoulder to show me the 'guns' she's packing. Since September 24th, I have had people constantly tell me how impressive I look.

*Shudders*

It's really amusing when people think my whole life revolves around the gym. I hardly ever discuss with my co-workers anything about my workouts. Be it, Allen Iverson's standing ovation, Michael Jordan being better than Lebron James, my love of Scooby Doo, having a girlfriend for over 3 years (I used to get hit on ALLLLLL the time at work until it finally made its way out that I'm with Sara), taking the time to make fun of myself (lots of moments here), and my hatred for the new movie, I Am Legend. Not once have I ever discussed my workout but people just have to show me their biceps or ask me how much I bench-press. I may not be the biggest but I must be something special for people to feel the need to roll up their sleeves.

Since my co-workers have it in their heads that I'm a ninja, I'll put something new into play. If I leave for London, England in May, I'll play out my accent majorly all while telling them I'll be off to England to 'see my mates, have a fight and a pint in the pub.' It's fun to mess with the uneducated.

Yes, I do have an accent. Can you guess how I sound? No, I do not sound like a farm animal at 6am nor do I say 'wheeeeeee' as I run down a long walkway.

Okay, so I'm in a good mood. Big fucking deal. It's certainly not because of the potholes plaguing this town. Ugh, they are all over the goddamn place! The city's government says it has no money to repair thanks to gas prices. What do we pay them to do then!?! In a nearby town, they raised the price of gas 5 cents in order to repair theirs.

Don't go thinking my visit to Sara's is going to be all sex and pussy kissing. It's Easter Weekend so I'm going to be painting eggs with her mum. Did it last year so it's nothing new to dip, dry, and write my name in various colors. Sara's mum really does up the Holidays. All that we eat has something to do with the theme at the time. I, actually, love it because my parents do nothing.

Plus, I love hanging out in the kitchen with Sara's mum. Sara will tell you I tend to do this a lot where she'll find me sitting down chatting away. What's fun is that she's just gotten started on Showtime's TV show, Dexter, one of the greatest of all time. Dexter is a sinister sneaky serial killer that just so happens to be working for the Miami Police Department. In love with dark humor? Must. Fucking. Watch. Period.

And since I love getting people gifts, Sara's dad gets Richard Price's new book, Lush Life, from me. So many rave reviews for this crime thriller! Why can't I? This man always pulls out his credit card when all of us go out to dinner and I like doing things for people. We're talking about some of the nicest restaurants in this town where even I tend to wonder if it's legal to charge that much for seafood.

You see, every evening after dinner at Sara's parents, the dad retires to the living room to read a crime novel. Always. Sometimes, Sara and I will come in and talk about little things, politics being one. Surprisingly, this probation officer doesn't get annoyed like he does with the people at work. He's kind of shy but I've brought him out of that as we get into talks on sports more and more.

So, as you can see, I'm in a good fucking mood as this week is about to end soon. Battlestar Galactica Season 3 is packed away for weekend viewing. I love it when my balls are so smooth and dying to be licked. The body gets rest after another nasty week of work. Eggs. There's gonna be a lot of eggs on Sunday. At least we don't have to spend the morning looking for them in the backyard while flying around with baskets. "Look! Tink's titties, I'm the gay bunny that needs to try out for Project Runway!" Happy twats all around.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

I'm Fine? Not Really.

"You ask me about the trouble with girls? How many weeks do you have? They may not be the mental space cases that Sex & the City has you think but they sure can pull some sudden moves that have you wish it was you and the remote for the day."

-Me

I'm the midst of packing and shaving for this weekend. By now, you know that means I will be in Indiana with a very nice shorn set of balls and a Batman t-shirt. Be glad I'm not a stoner. That would mean I'll be driving with a suitcase carrying only an oven mitt, action figures, 1 sock, and batteries, always size 'AA.'

It's also here that I have confusion riding within. Chicago might be next weekend thanks to Sara's favorite author being in town for a book tour. Christopher Rice. I've heard of him but nothing comes forth from me in regards to writings. This Chicago trip has me wondering if we can pull this off. Work, for me, ends in the evening but it's a 1 hour 19 minute drive to Indiana afterwards. Gonna have to feed me some major sugar snacks to keep me alive at night as we head on up to a majorly crazy city where lardasses are very welcome.

3 words: Deep dish pizza.

As I said, I haven't a clue as to much about Christopher Rice so I might have to check something out. I've always loved getting signatures from famous people. While many get star struck, it's always been my way of thinking to see these people from the humanistic point of view. Battlestar Galactica's Number Six, Tricia Helfer, was nice to chat with and, yes, she's tall. While everyone else was in line to meet people from an X-Files spin-off, I had to meet the supermodel I was always curious about. Nice girl but I worry about what kind of impression I gave off. 5 people in a small car for 10 hours during one of the hottest days of the year can call out some major B. fucking O.

The sexiest in Battlestar Galactica? Not Tricia but Grace Park. Oh, how this cylon can make me wonder if being a toaster is worth it just for a shot at playing with her wires.

Basically, it's the usual. Work's running me ragged to the point that I sleep later. My time spent in the grocery store this morning has me wondering if I'm losing my niceness. 2 little kids in front of me were annoying around their mother that I wanted to pick them up and toss them into the next aisle. Would have been funny if it were caught on camera.

"Yes! Cylons do exist! Footage at 11."

Lucky for me, the mother didn't want me to be behind her as she bought tampons and a bra. Look away, boy, while my daughter plays with my titty holsters. Toothbrush and batteries were all I needed. I'm such an asshole towards my teeth that it's always got to be electric. I'm pretty sure someone once thought I was using a vibrator in the bathroom.

Since when does being the wife of a former president grant you more reason to be voted as president? If it's not the color of Obama's skin, why do you keep pointing out that he's black, Hilary?

I know I haven't talked much about life in the gym. A lot of my friends have started going to the new gym that opened up. It's like a herd of muscle obsessed D+ students done got up and left for a wet t-shirt contest. Just me with Tamallah, Richard, Derek, and various weirdos that pop up every now and then. Today, I got stared at by 3 Mexicans that wish they had muscles like mine.

So, I'm bored and off to email Sara back about Chicago and London. I'm not a cylon. I'm just built that way and almost as strong. One of the nicest things Sara said was that I'm required to go with her to one of those major heavy metal concerts because I'm 'protection.' I'll be just that til someone plays the Scooby-Doo theme song and away I go to watch. Happy twats all around.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Nerd With Battlestar

"From horseshit, comes flowers."

-Advice if you're down

To give you an idea on the conflicts that take place in my head, I flipped back and forth between 2 shows, Dancing With the Stars and the latest MMA fight. If that doesn't tell you what type of guy I am, nothing will.

Of course, I had to see the deaf actress, Marlee Matlin, dance. It's been hyped to the point that I've had to listen to ads telling me I'm a moron not to support a deaf woman's plight at going from guest star to woman-that-doesn't-know-there-is-a-gorilla-in-the-room. While I do like her, I hate how it's going to be more about how we should all support her just because of a profound deafness. What about the dance? If Marlee can do it, great! It's only fair to all that try and raise their C-Levels up to somewhere around Mario Lopez's amazing popularity.

I always thought Slater was the coolest. Kiss my fucking ass.

For 3 days, it has been nothing but rain. Naturally, I'm grumpy while putting my hoodie up and walking through a large parking lot to work. The worse you feel, the more likely work is going to drag on. Luckily, I'm too busy to notice how much time has passed. I've also found myself in arguments about whether Kobe Bryant is as great as his hype projects. It's a guy thing. We tend to pass the time by arguing moronic subjects. I've yet to find anyone that will take me on when it comes to the old Superman versus Batman debate.

Batman would win thanks to smarts and the fact that Superman doesn't maim or kill.

Even though it is still raining, I'm in a better mood all thanks to Sara emailing me to tell me she misses me. Well, at least I can count on this girl while everyone else lets me down on helping to cheer me up. I miss Sara, too. She'll discuss Superman versus Batman with me.

What would really make her laugh is to have Sara close her eyes. If I tell her I found a totally new sexual need that must be fulfilled, she'll go nuts wanting to please me thanks to her submissiveness. I was thinking of finding an old Batman costume just to give her a good long laugh. Grey tights, yellow utility belt, blue undies with grey tights held in with blue boots, blue cape, and the Batman hood. It would be hard to hide my own giggles while Sara's eyes are closed.

"You're gonna be fucked by Batman!"

It's obvious my mind is out there, out there beyond the stars. Work's craziness does that. Thought, there is something funny to see Batman standing there getting a blowjob by a woman on her knees.

Interesting statement by Obama on race. Too bad this whole primary shit is still going on while the Republicans rest and prepare to do battle with the Democrats. Don't you hate it when evil has too much time on its hands yet it hasn't struck just yet?

And for all you Battlestar Galactica fans, a day to rejoice as we that have not seen Season 3 were able to pick it up on DVD. Sara, her roommate, and I are nuts over this show, drama and science fiction combined. Of course, that means I have to find my way to the local Best Buy and slam $39.99 on the counter. I'm pretty much already in the clear as to who the newest Cylons are but I watch it more for the love of Starbuck and the show's ability to hold you with a shock at the end.

And it doesn't end there. Keira Knightley's Atonement came out today as well. I'm on a budget but I'm also a very die-hard guy that would love to be this actress's bicycle seat if I were to ever come back to life. I bet Keira's pussy smells nicer than a rose garden on a warm Spring day. It's funny to have a girlfriend that tells everyone my dream. Sara and I saw the movie, Atonement, in the theater and thought it was okay. Since Best Buy gave you the paperback with the flick, I might compare the book to it. I'm not at will to discuss it since there are those that don't know what the little girl did.

Sara and I always laugh when the word 'cunt' brings such strong feelings. We use it all the time and love it. For Atonement, this plays into things. Just watch. For every man, when in lust for a woman, wants to taste her wet cunt.

So, I bid thee a bittersweet adieu. I'm tired but long for a project all thanks to ridding myself of old clothes, resumes, and college essays. It's amazing what I find that was once hidden in my room. Too much stuff so it's no wonder people come in and look around in amazement to what matters in my head. Happy twats all around.

Sunday, March 16, 2008

I'm Batman, Dammit

Kid: (Introducing himself to an alien) "Me.......Ted."

Alien: (Mimicking kid)"Me....Ted."

Kid: "What'd he say?"

Kid #2: "I think he said 'Meathead.'"

-Meatballs 2

How long til our fucking doofuses in office admit to this fucking recession? Holy shit! One of the top guys dodged the question about this in an interview. This just makes me laugh my ass off because I see so many signs of this that you'd have to be someone as dumb as Bush to not notice. Oh, yeah, he avoids it, too.

I've worn the same fucking t-shirt for 3 days in a row now. No, I'm not suddenly poor nor does it smell. I'm just in love with my grey short-sleeved Batman shirt with the large black/yellow symbol on the chest. Hell, I even wore it when 5-Pound Phooey and I went out for a walk. Now, I'm sure I looked a little like a dork but I don't care. Those of us that still find our minds in books that contain large muscular men swinging around the city on ropes as they hang out with other men that wear nothing but green underwear to show off a large set of balls have a strange form of insanity. We're not gay nor do we run away when asked about our mental health. I just like Batman and have no problem standing on the corner while my dog takes a dump on your lawn.

Guess who might watch a bit of Dancing With the Stars. Yeah, me all because of Marlee Matlin, the deaf actress known for Children Of A Lesser God. The only time I saw that movie was its being required viewing for my sign language class. Not bad if you can handle people signing so fast due to being furious. That's part of it because you're supposed to act along with how you sign words. Mad? Sign it and show your partner you're pissed.

Now, I know Marlee says she can feel the beat of the music. Pretty much anyone can if you go to a large house party or bar these days. Hell, the new receivers for high definition need 7 speakers. What I'm curious is to how she can go with the flow of the dance. Does Marlee just memorize the moves? A lot of non-trained dancers tend to do that but we're talking about someone that has more against her. Yes, I know you're not supposed to see deafness as a handicap but that comes more for those born deaf. Those of us that once had all our hearing miss it for a reason.

Plus, I want to see Jimmy Kimmel and Adam Carolla, long lost Man Show hosts. It takes a bold man to trade his wife in for a monkey that eats his dingleberries.

My deaf co-worker is pissed off at work. To show you how important and how hard it is for him to keep up with what is around him, the place I work at forgot to get him an interpreter for the second week in a row. While I'm pissed off about the lack of gloves being given to us, my co-worker has major issues that should have been dealt with. If you think it important to waste 10 minutes to praise people and announce important things, all should be able to understand. People shut out have a right to be pissed off. I've got suspicions about work but that's for another tale......

Everywhere around me there is discussion on threesomes. HBO's infamous Entourage episode where E got involved in one with his girlfriend, Sloane, aired. Of course, the girl had rules as to how far things go. What did cause problems was E finding himself curled up with the girl invited into bed with him and the girlfriend. Big uh-oh. In threesomes, boyfriend and girlfriend are to maintain their lust while the girl in the middle does not get the same amount of love. Sounds fair to me and everyone gets laid.

Should I list a set of rules I see for threesomes? Possible topic.

So, how are you? I've got clothes to pack up and give to a family that we help. Hope they love my old Nintendo t-shirts that are a bit too youngish for me. They make me look like a stoner, especially the one with a giant mushroom announcing a 1-up in Super Mario. The piles of t-shirts are enormous and must be dealt with now. Like hell would I ever allow someone to take my Batman t-shirts and the amazing gay vibes they give out. I attract 'em all.

You know what? I do miss getting emails, people.

I'm outta here as I plan on the 4th day in a row of this amazing shirt. After that, it's gonna get a washin'. Sara's gonna love my tan khakis that I'm wearing because they accentuate what little butt I have left. Since it's Sunday, you know it's hair-free and fabulous. Happy twats all around.

Saturday, March 15, 2008

Threesome?

"No, we didn't light it but we tried to fight it."

-"We Didn't Start the Fire" by Billy Joel

Remember that song? I'm pretty sure I was the only person that loved it. Sure, it wasn't a complete history lesson, seeing as the critics said that, but it was fun. Just imagine idiotic college students giggling over farts. That's the quote we'd use for those that grew up with that song playing so often on VH1.

For some, babies make them go into some kind of insane mode where various noises come out of their mouths. I don't get all that because I'm not a fan of babies. Names, yes. Babies? Hardly even if I am *sorta* curious as to what my sperm can create. In my weird world, the kid would be born with a very serious intellect and need to build his body to perfection. Yeah, it almost sounds like Hitler but you're forgetting that I'm kind of a perfectionist.

Yesterday, I was out walking 5-Pound Phooey and came across 2 7-week-old puppies being watched by their owner, a guy with 65 tattoos and an acoustic guitar. This is where I got down on my knees and ooh'd and ahhh'd over these tiny 4-legged creatures you'd swear looked like wolf cubs. My voice must have echoed several versions of a woman's voice because I was in love as I crouched down to run my fingers through their fuzzy fur. Amazingly quiet but shy of my little 5-Pound Phooey that took only a slight notice in them. Very strange. Out of all the dogs we come across, I was shocked to see her behave around them. The little boy was so scared of 5-Pound Phooey that he would cower on the other side of the owner's leg. I really, really wanted to own these 2 tiny furballs.

I don't care if anyone thinks I'm a freak for loving dogs. Sara thinks it's hilarious when we go out and I have to pet everyone of them I come across. Big, little, it doesn't matter. I'm for dogs.

The Spring cleaning is officially done. While I do have to place all my old shirts to give to goodwill, it's just fucking done. My closet was finished last year and, yes, that seems to happen every year thanks to all the stuff I just cannot throw away. One day, I just might sell my Playboy collection but the erotic photography books are something I just cannot part with. Sara loves both, Playboy and erotic arts, so who knows what I'll do. We're talking about well over $5,000.

Ever seen an awards show where people up for them tell the camera man to focus on them as they raise their dresses to show that they are not wearing panties? Must've missed Showtime's showing of the Adult Video News Awards. Weird. I'm not denouncing them in any form. It's just weird to see people walk a carpet in some amazing dresses and not care that a boob fell out.

Like many others, I was pissed off with Jenna Jameson's giving out an award. When she said, "I will never spread my legs again," that kind of was a kick in the balls to the porn performers in how she said it. While the fun parts were missing, actual scenes of oral sex and anal due to Showtime's not being able to show full-on sex, you can see that porn performers have a limited amount of brain power. It is somewhat amusing to know that certain stereotypes continue to exist.

While my lower back has been acting up, I just had to visit my friend in the leather shop about to close. Always nice to have a female perspective on clothes. When I mentioned that Sara threw around hypothetical threesome possibilities, the woman told me that threesomes are great. Of course, my jaw dropped even if I did know this woman's pretty different than the usual management you meet in shops. In other words, fun and goofy, no matter the hard times ahead.

A threesome? I've got my hypothetical list of girls I'd like to spend time in bed with. The best of both worlds? I'm not completely sure that the male is designed for such a thing. We always talk of the 69'r position as being so erotic BUT it's hard to concentrate on receiving while you are giving. Some of my most erotic fantasies have to do with my cock being passed around as I stand there in front of 2 girls on their knees. Totally sexy. Others have to do with me eating out the girls as their in different chairs by going back and forth. Of course, with the chairs' help, they can put their knees up high as I enjoy the licking and different scents presented to me. My curiosity of comparing the pussies' wetness and feel would drive me wild as I pull out of one only to thrust back and forth between the girls. Licking pussy with Sara at the same time, oh, so hard to contain my tongue. I could go on but I'm not entirely sure if the male is designed for such a thing because, after one long massive squirt, we're pretty much done. Women just will not quit because pussies can very rarely be soothed completely while the jealousy factor pops up, too.

Everything in our lives has to be bigger or more than what we had previously. Me, I just enjoy the feeling of a woman's skin next to mine as I wake up in the morning. Either that or a herd of puppies running all around me on the bed.

So, with all that in mind, I sign off here. I have a bittersweet feel when it comes to finishing various projects like this Spring cleaning. While it is nice to be done, I like to keep busy on perfecting things. It's strange. All I could think about afterwards is for Sara to calm me down as I look for something else to do. Happy birthday, Sammy. I've never forgotten, of course. Happy twats all around.

Thursday, March 13, 2008

It's Official. I'm Nuts.

"I've got Spring Fever and it isn't even Spring."

-Me

So, do you feel it? I've been in a joyous mood for the past few days ever since I started coming home while there is still light out. No more mopiness that can only be dealt with by a nice session in the gym. No more snow to avoid as I take that long walk through the parking lot at work. No more shivering as I wait for the car to warm my delicate fanny. Nah, I'm so happy that I barely even notice that work has worn me the fuck out.

For me, it is Spring and I'm in love with it. Everything has been going so swell that I cannot fathom going back to that gloom and doom person I was weeks ago. The flu? Forgotten. Lost 15 pounds? Ah, I'll get 'em back. Let's throw open the windows and take our toned naked bodies to be placed in front of them as we show off what avoiding McDonald's can do.

In our house, the best way to know it's Spring is when we spend a whole day cleaning. My room is so immaculate because I keep it that way. Still, I get dust so that's gone. Most of the house has been vacuumed and dusted. Most of the deck has been cleared of all the piles of dogshit, something that melted snow seems to remind us of. I'll be back out there tomorrow to finish the corner that is very difficult to deal with since turds are all over that you cannot stand anywhere. Clothes have been washed. Old magazines have been thrown out. I spent the morning walking 5-Pound Phooey because it was too nice to just sit there. Why do people want to spend a day where it's not excessively hot just sitting there watching TV?

My closet? Going to give away old clothes because this recession has hit the town hard. A place that helps the poor has had to turn away a lot of their old customers and cut back on the money given to them. Can you survive on $150 a month? The guy interviewed said it's super hard but that's what he has to do now since less money has been given to the agency. My first thought on the large woman in charge interviewed was, "Gee, she sure is eating well. Maybe she should share to help eliminate her personal obesity problems."

Yahoo! has a headline that made me laugh. "Most economic experts think we are already in a recession." Duh. I've never seen it this bad but good things have come out of it. More people are walking. This is a rarity, to see people go to work by walking those 4 or 5 blocks instead of taking the SUV. They might look like zombies because it's the first time their asses have ever been exercised. That's a good thing. Public transportation is up 50%. I've also seen more carpooling than ever.

Been a while since I've sat down to watch a movie and wanted to finish it straight-thru. Loved Hitman because it's a total guy movie. It's basically a movie that takes after a video game. Never played the game but I'm a sucker for something where the guy can wield 2 .45 caliber pistols, dress to impress, and kill with a passion. Oh, yeah, there is that gorgeous naked model, Olga, that has one of the nicest ass scenes ever. Since when does a woman whom just met a killer go to bed wearing nothing but a tiny thong? Total. Guy. Movie. Fucking. Loved. It.

Not surprisingly, Richard loved Hitman as well. Then again, he's single and living off of Playboys so anything like that will work.

"Ultrarooster, are you okay?
Ultrarooster, are you okay?
You've been shot down by a smooth criminal."

So, how are things with you? I'm just a happy-as-hell motherfucker. I'm getting back to training 5-Pound Phooey for her walks. It's nice that she's too poop'd to drive me nuts at night but I miss that, too. That little bulge in her belly has got to go so off to start fights with dogs, cats, and squirrels. Fuck shopping. Live in the park instead. Happy twats all around.

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Girls Can Be Such Idiots

Fact: 1 in 4 girls has an STD.

I found that interesting. A part of it had to do with the fact that I didn't have sex when I was a teenager. Gawd, I cannot imagine how awful I would have been discovering the opposite sex back when I was at war with nuns! My first experience would be the worst outtakes in a porn video so I think little girls need to keep their legs closed no matter how much they protest on knowing everything.

But truly, are we failing our girls? As shocked as I am to know that young girls are out there giving blowjobs, anal, and even sex, I'm wondering if this is the result of Bush's insisting that abstinence be taught in classrooms. Or could it be how stupid teens can be? The Internet is full of information about the bad things that come from having unsafe sex. You'd think someone that knows all about iPods and downloading music might take the time to do some actual reading. I sure as hell would if my crotch was itching all day.

Stupidity shouldn't just be labeled at teens. Another name for those that think Obama is Muslim can be included in this. How we have so much information available yet still be so stupid is what I cannot figure out.

My dog has been too poop'd to party. Today was so nice that I had to take her out for a walk this morning. While we did get to see geese fight over potential mates in the lake, nothing else happened. It was the usual pee on ever tree, check p-mail messages on said trees, and look into a home's sunroom for their 2 Himalayan Persian cats to threaten. You'd laugh, too, if you saw this tiny dog jump up and down to look into windows where cats suddenly scatter in terror.

That's been our night. 5-Pound Phooey has been asleep instead of spending the evening running around the house. No snacks were handed out since she slept on the floor of my room, snoring away. This happened last year. It takes 2 weeks to get her back into shape for all these walks where there will be a lot of vocal threats to the local 4-legged critters living around here. This bitch has balls.

I can totally relate in some ways. Work has been hell! We're going for longer hours now thanks to things picking up big-time. It used to be 1 day out of the week would be crazy while the rest were normal less crazy. For the past 3 days, there have been heavier things to be dealt with. While my body does look a bit more fit from the extra beatings, I have to sleep more. I've noticed that I have to wake up later.

Or it could be that I'm also a bit out of shape. Remember how I lost somewhere between 10-15 pounds during the flu? Well, I'm still missing about 9 of those pounds. 191.2 is what I weigh. Well, I'll be damned! Someone admits to their actual weight! I'd love to dare y'all into confessing how much all of you weigh but I doubt I'd get honest answers. There are 2 things a male is never allowed to ask a woman.

1). Weight
2). Age

You might add the whole swallowing question to that but that's more along the lines of an idiotic male going a bit too far with a potential date. It may be nice to watch a girl consume my most precious liquids but really.........who cares?

Spent a bit of time at my fat buddy's house. Richard's healed nicely after the surgery so I got to see pictures of all the bands he's been a roadie for. Crews get stickers so I noticed Joan Jett, Def Lepard, Reo Speedwagon, George Jones, Dolly Parton, Barbara Mandrell, Guns N Roses, and hundreds more that I've forgotten now. I would have loved to have heard Joan Jett play my favorite song, "Black Leather." Oh, we are talking some of he meanest guitar.

Being a dog-lover, it wasn't hard to be sniffed all over by a large golden retriever owned by Richard. She was a very nice dog that seemed to notice the fact that I have 4 little dogs of my own. They all do. It's like every dog I meet seems to feel the need to tell me I have 2 hot bitches and 2 stinky boys that he or she'd like to meet. Ever had a cold nose up your butt? Get a very big dog. You'll see what I mean when it comes to their not understanding rudeness.

So, I'm a bit tired now after work and getting 2 emails out. I've got 1 more to go where I have to describe a naughty dream that involved a fellow blogger. Aren't those fun? Mine's a bit complicated because it all started thanks to Sara's wanting to know about my thoughts on a threesome. Would you like to be in it as well? The newest issue of Playboy said these things are mainly fantasies because no one is that lucky. Oh, how I laughed at that. Ever met Sara? She's filthy lovable so it would be fun to add Summer to stir things up. I love sex so why not have fun with it? Happy twats all around.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Who Farted Who?

Fact: A British study found that the average woman farts 14 times a day.

Look, I don't know what magazine I read that from. I found it funny thanks to an Internet video answering the age-old question on whether beautiful women pass gas. A gorgeous bartender had various microphones placed around her in secret. Sure enough, there was a toot here and a toot there when she thought no one could hear. Do you realize how many giggles would be heard if we could listen to the guys listening on the beautiful girl's relief?

Ah, no more farting issues. I've had enough of such a thing for now. They come in fazes thanks to this weekend's watching a South Park episode that made fun of computer online addicts feeling like they are conquering the world. The whole gang gave their lives to destroying a geek that kept killing off their characters. Cartman decided to poop on a pan that his mother would bring for him while he continued to play. Sara would mimic the whole thing by saying:

"Mom! Bathroom!"

Down the stairs she would come with a pan for Cartman to poop on. I kid you not. I must be so behind in the times in thinking that censors would not allow turds to come out of cartoon characters' butts. By the way, it was a great South Park episode along with the one that made fun of 300 by taking us to the Les Bos bar. Get it?

As I said before, I had a great weekend. Wish I wasn't so tired from it, though. We're always so busy thanks to Spring coming up. An announcement of a marriage throws a lot of things off, namely gives us an excuse to get a bit drunk. Sara and I spent a lot of Sunday night with her gang of misfits after the movie, 10,000 B.C.

Warning: Do not go see 10,000 B.C. It is awful. While it is a movie, I have a hard time with inaccuracies like the enormousness of a sabre tooth tiger, perfect faces and teeth, boats, and a whole lot of shit you'll pick up on if you're smart. What I worry about is that kids going to see 10,000 B.C. will think all these things happened at that time. I hated wasting $8.50 to see that pile of shit that lasted close to 2 hours thanks to a large amount of movie trailers. The new Batman The Dark Knight one was cool, though. Way cool!

The Joker looks so close to perfect that I'm pretty sure I'm gonna sport a woody for 2 hours and die in the theater.

What Sara did for me on Sunday is something I'll never forget. After a late brunch in O'Charley's where we had the new omellets served only til 3pm, we hit the mall for Sara's new jeans. Didn't end up getting jeans. Instead, I watched as she paid $95 for 2 bras from Victoria's Secret. Jeez! I am so glad I am not a girl in many ways for I do not want to spend that kind of money to hide my beloved tits. I'm all for women being able to burn their bras and feel their boobs fly all over the place if this suits them. Knowing me, you shouldn't be surprised that I'd be unhappy with the 2-ton lardasses following all this.

Sara bought me 2 very nice button downs and cargo shorts from Express Men. Whoo! I've never had a girl buy me nice clothes like this. Never ever. I've gotten Calvin Klein underwear, flowers, t-shirts, books, candy, and so on. Nothing comes close the niceness of pin-striped button downs costing quite a bit even if there was a sale. I'm special........I guess. Sara always gives me the feeling she wants to dress me and I'm all for it. Gone are the days of XX-Large Air Jordan t-shirts to be replaced by more fitteds that accentuate what I've done to my body. I'm still prone to visits to Foot Locker but it's getting to the point that I can walk out more easily.

Don't go getting the idea I have a sugar mama. While it is nice to have a girl wanting to buy me clothes, I still wish to pay my own way. It is sweet, no? It is fun to have a girl walk through a department store and tell me what underwear she want to see protecting my cock or what color shirt would work with my blue eyes. How could I forget the letter I received from the woman that deflowered me? Those words that felt like a whisper, telling me how she loved to unbutton my Calvin Klein boxer briefs just to see my cock fall out after that torture of swelling in such a confined space.

There are a lot of emails to be sent out soon. I'm so behind thanks to being so busy with work and being in Indiana 2 weekends in a row. Plus, it took me a while to recover from the flu enough that I feel like myself again. Sammy, I'll hit you soon along with Summer's desire to read my filthy mind that's nowhere near as bad as Sara's. With this nice weather on its way, I'm longing to find myself in a good mood just pounding out sentences where I don't have to tell you how fed up I am with shoveling.

Did you know gas cost $1.42 when Bush took office? Just a thought.

So, I am outta here as I make my way to finishing the new DVD, Hitman. Love it so far. There is something to be said about an assassin that dresses perfectly. This movie has it all, some nudity with a hint of a lovely woman's bush, mysterious baddies, and violence that is a bit out there but still fun. Happy twats all around.

Monday, March 10, 2008

I See London, I See......

Fact: While taking a bath, I can fart so powerful that the bath water will empty out of the tub.

Actually, that's not true at all. Would be kind of cool, though just to find yourself having a rotten day only to discover that great power means a lot of responsibility. Bubbles are still fun to make on your own, though.

So, I am back. Didn't have much time to catch up on blogs thanks to a very busy weekend that started 1 hour from when I got into Indy. One of the guys in the group had a special 'announcement' to make that came in the form of an email. Weird. Never done something like that where an email is given to show to everybody in a living room setting. I'm only there because Sara has been friends with this guy since college. He's big, man. He's really, really big.

After 2 months of dating, our announcer is getting married. Oh, the groans and shrieks of protest poured out that night. How completely crazy to marry someone you still have so much to learn about! I mean, are you compatible with dealing with the other's bad habits? How about sex? Does he/she do it for you? Can you get through a whole month without wanting to kill the other? I'm going on 3 years with Sara and we know for a fact that the two of us are not ready. It's only now that I can handle the fact that girls poop. Sometimes, they poop so big that the room nearby needs to be condemned.

But in all seriousness, I just cannot fathom such a thing, to be married after 2 months. It's nice to see that everyone else in attendance to this announcement saw it as crazy. Hey, we look out for our own. We're for dating a bit longer and knowing, not being against marriage.

It's normal for Sara and I to have dinner with her parents on Sunday evenings so I brought the issue of marriage after 2 months of dating up with them. Oh, I love it when Sara's dad tells it like it is (Remember, I have to be careful as well......) by saying dating should go on for at least 5-7 years. A man after my own heart! Even the guests, an ex-CIA guy and his wife, told us over salad that marriage should not be rushed. Funny to me when Sara's dad pointed out that the guests moved in together and married many years later. There is something to be said when experienced people talk straight while also showing the humor in it all. You can tell they're still in love, too. She looks at him like Sara looks at me.

Oh, and then I get into it about guns while the women cleared the table, Jesse James's death by Robert Ford, and the Lone Ranger movie's introduction, to me, of the gattling gun. Long story short. Guy talk is great after spending 2 days of living with girls, Sara and her roommate. It's kind of like an initiation for me when I tell you that Sara's dad is taking me shooting soon. It's been a long time since I've shot a gun.

Yes, there was sex. It got so insane that I got dizzy and had to take a moment. Sara has an appetite that I, sometimes, find to be a bit too much for me. Could be the weather, too.

Our own announcement came up when I got to Indy. Sara is thinking that instead of Chicago in May it will be a trip to London, England. Whoo! Want to know what's what? I was thinking that, too. I've always wanted to walk cobblestone roads and see where Keira Knightley grew up. Yeah, Sara rolled her eyes because, for her, it's all about the art museums. Well, that, too. May is going to be super busy and expensive but London is just a thought. Knowing Sara, 'thoughts' are very close to being something definite. Got to get a passport.

So, I'm going to stop here for now. The reasons are that I'm super tired and that a fellow blogger has been showing up in my sex dreams a bit too often. Dammnit, Summer! Where in the hell did you learn that I liked that!?! Oh, this blog has been too open and such so it's my fault. The best part is that Sara told me that if she ever got a hold of Keira's panties, she'd give 'em to me. That, my friends, is a very, very special woman. More on that later. Happy twats all around.

Thursday, March 6, 2008

For Fun, In Butt

"Retarded or not, here I come!"

-Me

My love of the porn world's desire to out kink itself makes me glad I'm not a porn star. While I still long for the semi-bushes on women and an actual believable sexy story, I'm not so sure if women putting various drinks up their butts and then shooting them into a glass to drink is what I wish to see. Out of all my erotic dreams, the Kool-Aid Man does not come bursting through a wall to tell a young lass to 'put this up her butt.'

Sometimes, I'm lucky. I certainly wouldn't have said that last week during the flu. It's just that I am packing up for Indiana thanks to a dog-sitting interview. In other words, the dog has to like me. I'm hoping the little Yorkie likes cargo pants and a black D.R.I. fit Air Jordan t-shirt. Since my parents own 4 of these little mad dogs, I know how picky they can be.

It all started when Sara was asked to dog-sit for a woman she used to work with. This was a while ago and I guess my pictures of 4 Yorkies in various cowboy outfits (their stylist does this every year) got her attention when I brought them for show. Sara and I will be taking care of a house for a week all while getting paid. Plus, we get free food with various coupons to take advantage of. Wow! I didn't even think about payment when discussion took place. That's like a total holiday for me, laying on a couch after a workout where a small dog sits on my lap expecting a walk or good old fashioned noogie. 5-Pound Phooey likes it when I take her ears in my mouth and tug on them.

Cats. I'm so glad I don't have to deal with cats this time. My allergies are very bad. The more cats there are, the worse it gets where I will be struggling to breathe. It's not a joke. Sara's roommate has a cat, Lenore, that likes me. Sara's friends all seem to have cats as well. The only exception is a couple that own turtles. Oh, and those creatures in a half-shell do bite.

So, what's going on with you? Things are so quiet when my fat buddy, Richard, has had to lay low due to surgery for repairing the tendons in his right arm. He's right-handed so I asked him what's the major thing he has to worry about. Guys being guys, he mimics wiping his ass with his left hand. C'mon, you'd be scared about that, too.

Fact: Muslims see the left hand as evil. Richard would be fucked if he was Muslim.

Still lovin' Bravo's Make Me A Supermodel and can't wait for Top Chef's debut. Love food? Each episode will make you salivate over what's going on at the stove/challenge. Sara got me into this show, hosted by one of the loveliest of model's Padma. One thing I love is how she wouldn't allow people to cover up her scar from a car accident. I dig scars but I also want her to be shown in all her glory rather than as perfection.

Well, I must be off like a prom dress on prom night. I've got a small amount of packing to do and a lot of errands for tomorrow. Oil changes suck. Work makes me antsy because I know I have to drive to Indiana right after. Is anyone reading this shit? I know I owe you an email, Sammy, but where is your blog now? Happy twats all around.

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

They Killed Swayze! You Bastards!

"Tink's tampons!"

-Jenks, a pixy in the Rachel Morgan series (what he says when surprised)

Wow. I don't know what to say when I read that Patrick Swayze doesn't have much longer to live. Terminal cancer? The dude smoked like a chimney long ago. For me, it was Road House and Dirty Dancing that gave me Patrick Swayze fever. You can chalk up Donnie Darko, too, because he played the religious freak that was secretly a pedophile. But c'mon, we all loved Dirty Dancing. It gave us that urge to dance again but, for me, it was all about the music where I had the time of my life. I've loved so many songs on that soundtrack that will always remind me of how that dance instructor taught a young girl to rebel against her boring parents.

I've never known anyone with terminal cancer. Lung cancer? Oh, yeah, a fellow high school graduate got it even though she never smoked. Weird to know that there are things floating around in the air that can make you sick. I'm as cautious as I can when it comes to being around fumes of any type. To know that Patrick Swayze is due to die soon really gets to me.

Do you see the ironic thing? Jeff Healey, the blind musician in Road House died recently. Ever seen him play? Rent Road House and pay attention to the blind guy on the guitar. For a short time, Jeff was pretty famous.

So, what can I tell you? My hair is working for me. Haven't figured out why I have so many bad hair days thanks to how it wants to go all over the place. Think Wolverine's look in X-Men because it tends to loop up like that.

The gym is very quiet thanks to the local students being on Spring Break. Of course, they have the safety of Playboy Magazine looking out for them on the beaches. I've no idea how to handle a guy coming up to me asking me to pose nude if I was a girl with a great body. I'd hope that I had a nicely shaved twat, seeing as $500 is very good when I've got student loans to pay off. Since I'm a male, Playgirl would just pass me by. Sara says I have no ass. Too bad. I've always wanted to wave my penis at a camera.

First comes snow and thens slush. Hello more snow on Friday. Lucky us.

Watched 300 again. Love it. I'm pretty sure I'd make a fine Spartan where even the scholars have abs of steel. What people forget about them is that their way of fighting is still legendary if you look at the logics. Spartans would form a phalanx, an impossible formation of shields that would suddenly rise up for a spear to be thrusted at the enemy. So many had a hard time figuring out a weak point. There wasn't much because the Spartan next to him would protect the man taking anyone down. Even the women were stronger than any other culture's way of life. I cannot imagine fucking such elegance but toughness.

Found a really amusing but creepy set of pictures in Photobucket. All of them consist of pictures taken of various worn women's panties. I'm sure you girls have had to deal with a lone male trying to get a pair of your dirty knickers. This guy seems to love pee, pussy, period, and ass stains like no other. Why do I picture him like a cat rolling around in dirty panties?

At my old college, women had problems with guys that would steal their panties out of the laundry room. Anytime a girl did her laundry, she'd have to stay down there with a magazine or homework. Not the guys. Women just don't steal men's undies. Remember, I've had only one girlfriend that loved smelling my Calvins all because she loved the smell of semen and hoped for me having a 'wet dream.'

I also had a roommate, Dan, who liked to show me his 'trophies.' He had a large collection of dirty panties where he'd invite any of the roommates to smell them. Ugh. Pee stains are just gross. Why a guy would keep 'em just for pussy stains is just as bad. But, hey, a guy likes to advertise the fact that he had sex at some point in his life. Either that or he waited in laundry rooms for that once in a lifetime chance to sniff the aroma of a sorority girl.

In my belief, if a girl has been fucked well, it's a beautiful thing when she hands you the panties she had worn right before that moment. It's kind of a quiet way of telling the guy that what was done was naughty and the naughtiness continues. While it is sexy to know how each woman wets her panties differently, I'm just not one to keep 'em. Creepy.

So, I see Obama is losing a little momentum in this run for presidency. I'm no Hilary fan so I will admit to a little nervousness over this. Just what is Obama writing during those debates? How many wanna bet this man has had panties thrown at him? Most women in politics are gross, though. There would be Cheetos fingerprints thanks to too many visits to the vending machines while waiting for the speeches.

I leaveth you here. I'm bored and growing even more bored lately. Without Richard in the gym due to his surgery and all the students being gone, my only life is complaining about the latest pile of shit that older co-worker of mine did in his pants. We always know when he's nearby. Trust me. Happy twats all around.

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

Snow Is Killing Me

"Anticipation of death is worse than death itself."

-Unknown

Do you ever get that? Your week or day was so bad that it feels like everything you've done is worth nothing. There is no glory. There is nothing to make you feel any better. You're only option is to shut the fuck up and accept the fact that you are fucked.

Ta-da! We got another snow storm. Don't go boo-hooing me. This one was pretty damn bad, seeing as there was a lot of drifting snow all day. Just putting $15 worth of gas in my car had me wondering where my inner polar bear had gone. Normally, I'm fine with snow. I drive quite easily through it. When you combine snow with wind, well, that's another story as the numbers on the gas machines seemed to read slower than normal.

Your only options through things like this are to read, play video games, or just watch some damn fine TV. Hopefully, you aren't one of those idiots that seem to need to be out getting their cars stuck in ditches. We get plenty of those, seeing as the local police patrol was quite busy. Driving home, I saw a Mexican get smacked in the back by one of our finest, a teenager going too fast in the left lane. Survey says...........EXECUTION!

If you wish to know, white chocolate Reece's Peanut Butter Cups miniatures are excellent in calming me down. Did plenty of very difficult sit-ups to earn 'em. Sara's mom bought me a bag before I left for home on Sunday night.

So, my day? I start out grumpy because I overslept. Look out the window and see that the snow coming down is just another nail in the coffin. I've got work at some point where I will be pretty much wiped out. But first? Head on out to haunt a bookstore. Snoop around and hope new magazines have been put out. Drive home to read some more of Kim Harrison's The Outlaw Demon Wails. Lunch. Got to work. Come home a bit hyperactive after all that heavy lifting. Eat dinner. Hit the gym. Watch Scooby-Doo on the Boom Network. Hope something comes up on pay cable. Oh, lordy! 300 and Disturbia is on. Which is it gonna be? Abs or neighbor that spies on the neighborhood's hot girl? Am I gay?

Mind you, I'm only halfway through Disturbia. Looks okay. Does this give the okay for teenage boys to use binoculars when a cute girl moves next door? We all live for knowing what color panties you girls are wearing. It really makes our days and nights.

So, I'm sad. Had a weekend spent in Indiana where I was so tired all the time. Stuck by snow and it's normally a time where I'm out wondering the neighborhood with 5-Pound Phooey. I miss those times. Raccoons and people weirder than me out and about. Ever seen a guy walk around in the snow without his shirt? You will. Maybe I'll tell you about creepy panty guy. It's always amusing to know that there are guys that collect worn panties and brag about it. Happy twats all around.

Monday, March 3, 2008

I Would Have Surrendered

"No retreat.
No surrender.
That is Spartan Law!"

-300

So, you want to know what's on my mind? You wouldn't be here if you didn't. I do get it, in that blogs can keep you entertained or just make you feel some form of happiness that someone else feels the same.

I'm dead tired. However, this is a different kind of tired. I just got back from Indiana where the visit was so-so. Mostly, this was my fault in that I carry so many allergy issues. Cats are my worst enemy, even if they're rarely in the room with me. My body was so worn down throughout out this weekend that I worry how I'm doing with Sara. While it could be the Winter blues, this is definitely now me, tired and worn out to the point that I don't even like myself. What happened to my energy? What happened to not thinking about going to sleep all the time?

When Sara and I went to the gym for a workout, I noticed that my body barely reacted to the workout. Normally, I'd be pumped up with all these strange feelings of wanting to accomplish everything. Not a drop. Nothing reacted and I walked on the treadmill wondering what was wrong with me.

I tend to worry what Sara thinks. A lot of this comes from her roommate's cat. I'm not kidding. 1 cat is hard. The 3 cats in the apartment we visited 2 weeks ago had me feeling like I was close to death. It's nearly impossible to breathe at that point. When would I find the ability to do away with all this sleepiness and just be me again? You know it. I know it. We all want to be fucked in our beds but I can barely awaken my body enough. It happens but not as often as I'd like.

Sara did a blog entry about a movie she found so powerful, Gone Baby Gone. While I liked it quite a bit, it's too much of a downer to watch over and over. I had already had the feeling of it being that way so I just find it weird that Sara kept insisting on all of us watching it. The characters were so strong and Ed Harris as fascinating as usual but it really is kind of a downer when it comes to the kidnapping plot. Did the girl live or die? What you'll notice right away is that not all the actors and actresses are pretty. You've got some real-life looking people found on the street. While I could sit and watch the Smurfs a few times in a row, Gone Baby Gone can really make you wonder how low people can go.

Oh, we did have some nice weather over the weekend. Very strange to be able to walk to the gym without shivering. Snow melted and you'd see various people out for walks to shop nearby or just for something to do.

So, why did I go to Indiana? Sara said she was feeling better and I missed her. That's pretty much it as I surprised her by showing up on her bed after she got back from an errand. Just wish I had energy. Sex drive gets zapped away as well. Happy twats all around.