Older Women Unzipped

"Any day where I have several people stare at my strange movements all to tell a story is a day well spent."

-Me

How did you start your day at work? Grab a cup of coffee and mingle with various people that come in? Read over an old newspaper or magazine left behind in the staff room? Try mine. Not knowing all the words needed in sign language, I tried to tell the deaf guy what I saw on satellite, a midget fucking a much taller woman. Acting out doggy style that kind of looks like a 5th Grader would is hard. Did you know people stare?

As much as I am delighted to be informed how midgets have sex, I'm not sure if hearing a guy going at it so rough with someone so much taller/bigger is good reason to say, "Take it all, bitch!" 3-inches doesn't qualify a guy I can toss over my shoulders with one arm to say such a thing. Besides, it kind of makes those of us that are 5'10 to wonder if little people really do dream of being bigger, height and penis.

Doggy style does look kind of nice if you are a little person. To just stand as tall as you can and hit that ass so hard is a dream. It's just when it comes to the 'money shot' where her tooth is almost as big as his dick that I forget all that stuff.

Never tell me you can predict your day. You get up. You go to work. Same ol' same ol'? Well, take a walk because I met a very interesting lady close to when I made my way home afterwards. My dog, on the other hand, decided to take a nap during the whole conversation.

I like foreign people. I like foreign people that tend to ask me where I am from thanks to an accent that comes out at various times. Am I Australian? European? Maybe I'm adopted and I came out of a box in an insane escape from a Nike factory! This lady, after a few other times coming across her, wanted to have a nice little chat. It all starts with wanting to know about 5-Pound Phooey and works its way to my girlfriend and feelings on the Bush regime. Sometimes, it takes those from another country to remind me why so many Americans are stupid.

Mind you, this foreign woman, Toolay (pronounced: 'Two-Lah') is from Europe. In no way was she intrusive in wanting to know about me. I'm quite friendly when you provoke my mind in certain ways. Since Toolay was so polite, I couldn't resist standing there in front of a store used as a storage place. There could have been tea but I had a tired dog to deal with and I pretty much stunk, this being after my workout and walk.

So, Toolay and I talked and talked about how Americans are so gullible about the lies fed to them by our media (look at The New Yorker's depiction of Obama as Muslim). This woman being foreign, she would hate to have McCain as president because she fears so much more war due to a love of it from this man. Iraq was bad but now it's a mess under Bush's stupidity. At least during Saddam, people had water and electricity. Now Iraqis hope to have it once or twice a week. I'm no fan of the Middle Eastern smelly people (Times change. Follow a religion not bent on keeping you in caves fucking camels.) but even I have sympathy for going through this disastor. Why does our government spend more time in foreign affairs when things are so bad in America? How is it so awful to show the naked female form?

Personal stuff got fun. I love to chat when it comes to someone wanting to know a little about my life. Toolay wanted to know about Sara, particularly about painting because this woman is an artist as well. She designs for various businesses, artwork or just placing unique wording on t-shirts/advertising. Nice of Toolay to give me two pens to keep as a way to show me what she does. It's always nice to hear a European wonder why Americans are so prudish when it comes to the female body. According to Toolay, it's great to be naked and taken pictures/paintings of.

That would explain the oddness of when I first came across Toolay. The woman walked out of the shop with her husband. After a few seconds, I realized her pants were completely unzipped and unbuttoned. The man was smiling so I'm thinking that either she got fucked or there are moments where a woman just wants to walk around with her pants down to ankles at some point.

Can anyone explain to me the fear of dogs? 5-Pound Phooey is tiny. At 13-pounds, she's got some muscle but is still too small to scare anything but a large collection of Legos. Toolay was very shy about even touching 5-Pound Phooey, even after a few minutes of begging. It's too weird to me. I can understand someone's fear of large dogs even if I have none. But a tiny muscular Yorkshire Terrier that shows friendliness?

Somewhere out there, there is a midget that has had a moment of exteme built up ego where he thinks that his 3-inches will frighten a woman 2-feet taller than him. Hardness turns to a noodle upon the uncontrollable giggles as he is unzipped.

Must be off. Tired. You know the drill. The heat makes sleep more difficult or something. Waking up takes longer and I need to cry myself to sleep over my ridiculous behavior at work. You live in your world. I rule mine by being mildly retarded til I die. Happy twats all around.

What'd Batman Say?

"Justice and power must be brought together, so that whatever may be powerful, and whatever is powerful may be just."

-Blaise Pascal

I learned something new about my town today. When I asked my deaf co-worker if he was going to go see the new Batman movie, The Dark Knight, he responded 'no.' I should have thought about that. Most deaf people wait til a movie comes out before getting any sort of rush into seeing something that they cannot hear, hence the confusion. Surprise, surprise. There is a local movie theater that plays brand new movies with captions, only the deaf have to wait 2-3 weeks til they can see them.

My deaf co-worker is a hoot to work with. I told him that an all-deaf showing of The Dark Knight will be so much quieter than what we hearing people have to deal with. Noisy kids, cell-phones going off, rude people arriving so late by putting their asses in your face to cross the aisle, and those that won't shut the fuck up. You know it by heart, people. Haven't you ever wanted to take someone's phone and throw it the fuck all the way to the other side of the theater just to hear it smash? Deaf people, on the other hand, will allow for so much quiet in the place. My only problem would be the occasional kick in the back of my chair.

Oh, and what's up with sitting right in front of me when there's 30 other spots just as good? What does blocking my view make sitting there so much better?

I may just be some sort of paranoid weirdo sitting in the theater hoping that the next person walking down the aisle has not chosen to sit in front of me because I like to rest my feet against the chair. Does that coincide with how ridiculous I must have looked in the gym when making googly faces to a 50-something-year-old friend tonight?

I did have fun talking to a guy that just comes right up to me to ask when the new Batman movie comes out. What is it about me that gives off a beacon that I know this? I would hope that it's because I look like Batman in some way. Am I handsome? Check. Am I good at getting out of tight places? Check. Do I want to see the good guys prevail? Sorta. Nobody's perfect. I still think weed and possibly all drugs should be legalized.

My satellite is back! Nothing like plopping down on my bed to find that there is a whole set of channels where I can see very large penises penetrating a lot of vaginas. No asses. I've still yet to see anal sex done on satellite. Sara took a look at all this when she was here that week. I've never seen the problem of actresses barely able to conceal the fact that it's all about a paycheck. Sure, she grunts, sucks, and swallows a large amount of cum. It's just that there seems to be no interest in actually fucking. It's in. It's out. It's over.

I dunno. Thanks to Sara's assessment, I've found myself wondering how people can fuck all for a paycheck or go gay for pay. No amount of money would get me to fuck someone that I have absolutely no interest in having sex with. $10,000 would get you a peck on the cheek and possibly a pat on the fanny. I'm just too picky on who I want to stick my dick into. Love the feeling. Love how sticky my dick gets once it's in there. Just the major factor that comes to mind, I want to want you.

How's life, work? Summer still has me working less. Maybe I should rethink my thoughts on fucking for a living, huh? The economy affects how much I make but not how many lovely women need to be penetrated in order to help them sleep at night. I'm still up in odds. It's that time of year where the weather makes any sort of working absolutely horrifying so why do I feel like I'm wasting away? My deaf co-worker keeps signing to me that I'm a 'motherfucker.'

Wonder how he really feels.........

So, I must endeth your enjoyment (or possibly that feeling you want to throw up after reading this) by saying I wish I hadn't eaten that big bowl of crunchy Raisin Bran. A bit too much. My dog, 5-Pound Phooey, loves it when I sit down on the floor to give her some. Why can't she be nicer to me when we're on walks? Lately, I've had to stand underneath the shade of a tree because she won't budge til she's pissed off another schnauzer. She hates that type of dog with so much passion in the same way I have a hard time looking at the obese people walking out of a fast food restaurant. Happy twats all around.

I'm In Dread

"And it all comes down to this...."

-Me

So, I sit here wondering why I feel as if I have nothing to say. Not a damn thing. My mind is completely void of wanting to sit here and blurt out whatever insane/stupid/thoughtful thing I find myself wanting to share. Am I depressed? Lost? I've said it once so I'll just have to say it again. When things feel completely stagnant or you lose the muse of others making amazingly enchanting entries, there seems to be no point. Here I am talking to a dark wall with no hint of my own breath to show I'm breathing.

Is it that time that I dread? My birthday is awfully close along with my 1-year anniversary at work. Sticking to the same thing for more than 5 months is quite an accomplishment. Now if I can only shake my slight urge to do something different. I'm growing bored all while forcing myself to stay due to the little perks work gives me. I'm pathetic thanks to a scary economy.

There is no urge for sex. Zero. You, my female readers, could take down your panties and prance around me for no result but to admire your feminine features. I love to see the lovely pink parts but there is no unzipping of my shorts.

I don't like knowing my birthday is not too far off. It scares me to know I've lived longer than I once thought. Funny how it has me thinking about all those people that told me how lucky they are to have children while getting married young. Now they look haggard and out of it as various rolls of excess skin hang down their 'fat jeans.' That doesn't mean I feel any better about myself. Remember? I'm stagnant. Going nowhere or something like that. Going to inherit some serious cash but I want something more.

To find myself. But where do I begin?

Am I having an epiphany? Is it a sudden non-caring of all these materialistic possessions that once drove me? Did I obtain everything I once wanted? Was it all about the chase? Or am I just miserable because it feels like everyone else is miserable? Just how does someone have a life while juggling 3 jobs and the bank is about to foreclose on your home?

I'm also very worried about Sara. To lose her job at this time is very hard. One of her friends had to move back in with his parents. The break-in at the house might have scared him but it could be more, more as in financially. Who knows. I'd hate to see Sara forced into moving back in with her parents. Trust me. Her mom would drive her crazier than I could deal with. Yes, there are problems within this relationship but nothing too destructive that we can't work on. Relationships are work. If you say 'no,' I kill you. I kill you good.

So, I'm going to lay down and finish the movie about some lucky guy's finding out he shouldn't marry a controlling woman thanks to a magical list telling of all the girls he's fucked. Impressive. To have an email suddenly appear that tells you who it is that gets your dick inside them! What joy! Well, I did watch that new movie, The Ruins, which was pretty good if you have an interest in killer plants. There was the latest Batman movie that ties into what happens before he meets the joker in The Dark Knight. Bloody cartoons are cool. I'm going to be a total dork for wearing my tight grey Batman shirt with the huge symbol on the chest. Don't giggle. You'll hate it when I'm beating you senseless after you laughed at me. I really need to kiss Sara right now. Happy twats all around.

Mad Dog No Beer

"Weapons Of Mass Consumption."

-The slogan for the bus that I stopped to have a beer from

Nothing makes a walk better than an ice cold beer. Nothing. Okay, maybe a nice slow body soothing blowjob where my back is held softly by the softest bed and my penis is passed back and forth by women that know their ways around an AR-15 machine gun.

Actually, that took place today, the beer but not the blowjob. Lucky me to end my walk with 5-Pound Phooey only to find that a friend of mine working for a local channel is attending a luxurious meeting. My park was presented by some wealthy middle-aged men and women all holding various forms of alcohol. Ah, the smell of beer! I'm all sweaty, my dog is out of her damn mind wanting attention, and I am presented with a beer. There is a god and his name is Miller Chill. Am I the only one that sees the combination of a lime as being a stroke of genius?

What's hard to do when presented by a small crowd of spoiled middle-aged is getting my dog to leave. I'm pretty sure she wanted a sip or two of my Miller Chill after waiting on a bottle opener. Drinking near the park? Of course! Little dog watches as I down the hatch the bottle in less than 5 minutes. Damn tasty. Now if only I could get 5-Pound Phooey to stop craving attention so we can go home...........

The benefits of knowing people that can give you a free beer or discounts are endless. Just ask my friends at Borders and Barnes & Noble.

So, how are you? I'm realizing how much I miss Sara. One week here and it feels so quiet in this house without her. No one to help get up and give a tap in order to get her going. My mom certainly does. It's rare for her to find another female to chitter chatter with. Who knows what they said about me. As long as the naked bath tub pics of me when I was 4 do not get displayed.

Ah, the old days of having a small wiener at such a young age. Now, it's like I have to have a forklift to carry the kinds of balls I was blessed with.

Due to the overload of so many employees at work, I am being sent home early. Hooray or nay? It's kind of tough to say. While I love to be home earlier to rid myself of the excess sweat and grime, I kind of find myself deep into work and don't want to go home so soon. Sure, the first 5 minutes suck but then it's like an addiction. Muscles are warmed up. Mind is trying to figure out how to deal with the latest puzzle presented to me. Female co-worker won't stop flirting with me. It's daily. It's my life but it means less money to take off early. Also makes me realize how great air conditioning is.

Heard of a little movie called "Wanted?" Lovely. Sara and I saw it 2 times because it's that fucking good. Went on Friday and dragged our friends to see it the next day. Friends didn't like it but Sara and I giggled at all the cool scenes we had now memorized. Wanted kind of asks you if you are really living your life. That woman that harasses Wesley reminds me of how bad it can get when you have an upper-level person to report to that is, in best terms, a complete fucking pisser. Funny how this person was shown as a donut eating fatass type I normally see in Wal-Marts everywhere. I'm always dying to ask them if they realize how pathetic they look to carry so much extra weight.

Plus, Wanted is Angelina Jolie with guns. You just cannot go wrong with that combination. Period.

My mom's jaw dropped when I told her the amount I spent for Sara's birthday dinner. It was so worth it because I got schooled on how to eat pasta with a fork and spoon. If it's not dishwashing liquid in the bath, it's how to collect stringy noodles with a fork. I guess a small part of me is white trash but educated.

So, I must heal after only now getting time to spend in the gym. My biceps are swollen while my chest will hit that mark tomorrow. It's called time-delayed muscle soreness. I love it because it tells me I hit the right areas. The honor of seeing someone copy my unique workout tickled my mind. Yes, I do something weird to the point that Sara's dad watched me as well. The man hounded me for why/how I turn 2 dumbbells up to do deep push-ups that would look like I am stretching open my chest. Tis not for the faint of heart. Very painful if not done right or as a first time but these kinds of push-ups work the chest like no other. It's no wonder it gets stared at all while I am trying to shrink the muscle a little bit yet keep it extremely strong.

It's fun to see the reactions of people when I work out with them. Sara's dad and I went through a session together. It killed time for me since I had a lot of frustrations to rid myself of. The extra adrenaline flow of people that look amazed kept me going even longer. The reward? Sara's dad put almost 2 pounds of salmon on the grill. Almost a pound of it was in my belly that night. I will work you in any gym.

Alas, I must be off. Should I discuss the porn I've come across from satellite? It's tempting. Apparently, there are great benefits of threesomes. When the penis slides out during heavy thrusting, it's so sweet to have another woman there to help put it back in immediately. A reward? Oh, a good ol' fashioned licking in all directions. It doesn't help if he's so bad that she thinks it's her own dog licking her swollen strawberry. Happy twats all around.

Is Normal Great?

"You are not a dish."

-Sara (her explanation on why I should stop putting dishwashing liquid prior to my daily baths)

I guess we can chalk up today as the first day in my road to normal. No coming home from work all in the need to entertain someone laying on my bed due to a badly sprained ankle. No more arguing with a small dog that said person is allowed there as well. And no more being worn out discussing the Wimbledon Final, where I don't even care which guy won. Nadal did. I was happy because he reminded me of Agassi's making tennis fun again.

So, you want to know my week? Long one. Sara, as I've said before, has a badly sprained ankle. Spent a lot of time opening the car doors, pulling out crutches, helping carry things into the bathroom (girls have a lot of stuff!), holding crutches out for her when she has to get up, and whatever else that I did just cause it's what I'm supposed to fucking do. I'm not complaining at all because I remember what it was like to have a broken foot and had to hop around for at least 8 weeks. It sucked. It sucked big time to be forced to use crutches. My roommates, Bald-O and Co., had to carry my things around for me.

However, I do enjoy remembering the good old surprise of the many girls that insisted I take their chairs when I first walked/hopped into the Human Sexuality Class. Ah, to be able to start an argument over blowjobs again............

The reason for the quote is from my own good luck. Sara has to now take baths due to her ankle issues. When I helped draw one for her, I put in what I've used since I was a child, dishwashing liquid for the bubbles and its cleaning effect. Sara thought I was nuts and insisted I go out to get real bubble bath stuff. She's right and my skin has never been better! Yeah, it was me in the girly store choosing which scent works best. I choose orange!

Once, at work, I told the deaf guy that Sara was at my house talking to my mom. He laughed and asked me if they were talking and talking and talking. It was the first time I ever wanted to be at work. Really.

The one thing I never truly understood about women is their need to talk. My mom's totally in this so putting Sara together with her means trouble. There was a lot of talking that I'm sure I would be happy to be away from. Women, especially the 20-year-old type, talk like a group of chattering squirrels. It's insane to try to figure out this secret language where many men, even the most manly of all, don't dare try to disrupt. For me, personally, I just like to get to the point by adding a few sentences. For Sara, it means over and hour of chattering with her roommate that she hasn't seen in 4 or 5 days. I haven't seen Bald-O for almost a year and our conversation was nowhere near this!

The whole week wore me the fuck out! There was barely any chance for me to work out in order to rid myself of frustrations. Hardly any sex took place due to this and Sara's ankle. That thing was black and blue so I want it healed as soon as possible.

Obviously, this lack of being able to let things out led to a few arguments. One had the gas station attendant laugh at Sara and I as we went at it over gas prices. I put in the usual but didn't see that the other was cheaper by 13 cents. Listen, I drove both ways, to Bald-O's and back while she read a book or discussed things with me. The other argument was over trying to find parking to a very nice deli. Sometimes, I think Sara just loses her fucking mind and I want to find an ejection seat for her. Oh, and if you need to know, both times had her apologizing.

It's weird how things are only slowly back to normal. The Playboy Channel is still amusing. Various people in the gym wave at me. The brown girl still continues to look for me. I come home drenched in sweat. Life is great. Now, if I can get rid of that image from a different porn channel of a girl using a baby wipe on her ass prior to getting fucked, things would be perfect. Then again, it is nice to let the guy know that everything's honky-dory down there prior to a good rug munching. Happy twats all around.

Still In Awe

"And so the craziness ends at some point where the recipient looks back and somehow commits to the quiet."

-Me

It's true. A lot happened all this week thanks to spending a lot more time with Sara. Be it here in this house or at her apartment, we were around each other for more time than we're used to these days. I'm still in shock as to how I'm so used to this girl I've been sleeping next to for over 3 years.

I didn't blog for one main reason. I found it rude to be on the computer when there is company to deal with. While I do understand some time alone, it just feels too strange for me to tell someone to find their own fun while I go off and unleash my inner thinking on a computer. It's just not healthy to sit down in a form of darkness while someone a short distance away enjoys being tickled in her mind.

If I sound strange, I can tell you, in very easy terms, why. I'm tired from all the driving. First, we start with going to Indiana. Then, we come here. A few days later, it's on to my college friends' house way down south. Back to here. And finally? Again, in Indiana only to end up here barely in time for work. Is it any wonder why I'm so dog-tired? To go straight to leaving pools of sweat on the work's floorspace tells you what I go through.

As for the $22,000 engagement ring entry. I'd just like to make it clear that it was only done in playfulness. That kind of money is better spent with a few months in Paris followed by Australia. The only reason I mentioned it was because, of all the rings in the store, Sara found the $22,000 one the best. I'm not gonna lie. It looked better than nice but why spend so much money on one small thing? To Sara and I, it's insane to spend such money that could be better spent on things to enjoy rather than feeling tied down to constant payments.

Funny how tears were shed before I left Sara's apartment. The long week wore us down to the point that things held in came out. I started it by going on how much it hurts to see Sara so sad after she lost her job. I tend to absorb things that hurt others.

No, I didn't watch the fireworks. Needless to say, when college friends are involved, you're just too fucking drunk to get up off your butt. It's been a long time since I've seen Bald-O, Mark, Rob, Mikel, and Bald-O's mom. We're still a good bunch and Sara being there gave more small town gossip than they know what to do with. I doubt a population of 6,000 knows what to do with large amounts of outed lesbians.

So, I must be off, seeing as there is so much to catch up on. According to Sara, I smashed my fist into her bookshelf during a nightmare. Everything built up to frustrations after a lot of foreign intrusion. My mother loved talking and talking and talking to Sara when she stayed here. For me, it was odd to wake up with someone to take care of (busted ankle), head off to work, and then entertain. How do people do this everyday!?! Happy twats all around.

On Vacation

"They say in heaven, love comes first."

-'Heaven Is A Place On Earth' by Belinda Carlisle

Don't fret. I'm still around. It's just that Sara has a badly sprained right foot. She's here at my house being taken care of by my mother. Yes, it is interesting to note this because my mother has always wanted a daughter while Sara's dad has always wanted a son. She's an only child while I have no sisters. See why Sara and I's parents love visits?

I'm just coming on here to let you know I'm alive, okay? I've been terribly busy with Sara being here, her foot issues, and this being her birthday today. A lot. Did you know engagement rings cost $22,000? Guess who looked at rings and smiled while I was off looking at expensive watches.

So, I will be back when everything settles down. My mother is having a great time and might even do girly things with Sara while I am at work or in the gym tomorrow. Be prepared for when I get back from Bald-O's. That's where I will have to explain myself where I looked into that bald boy's eyes and had the time of my life. After......uh.....16 beers, all boys suddenly question their sexuality. Happy twats all around.