serial killers and pornos

Our little boy is all grown's up tonight, you know what your all growns up yeah ya you dig that, is this a production for you, cause you're grown's up

2005-06-04T13:53:00.000-05:00

So, it has been awhile...I know, I know...
And, I feel my life shifting...

I'm becoming mature (a little...I think)

After spending three weeks in Bloomington, IN (where I met an off-duty ninja who was captain of her kung-fu team, a D&D boy obsessed with cannibalism and had a huge real life boar's head in his bathroom and an army reserve with the sickest dead baby jokes that were so off color I felt dirty even snickering at them) working like a dog and earning huge bonus points with the corporate head haunchos...I feel the need to start defining my career and going for it (yeah, my little secret is out...I like careers and I'm the bestest team player...work is actually fun for me)

Ironically, I've moved into my fraternity house...with the four other boys (younger, sexy, virile male specimens...lots of walking around in boxers, D'Angelo playing in the wee hours of the morning and lounging about in bathrobes drinking scotch straight from the bottle)...nothing like a party house to balance out the managerial work attitude...

And, at the moment, I'm in Boston...typing this entry surrounded by old children's books, matchbox cars, stuffed animals, original Star Wars posters (my brother and I are convinced they are worth some big money now), marbles, Cabbage Patch premies, framed elementary school watercolors, sculptures from pottery class, albums of photos documenting my life from 27 seconds to 27 years...as I take sips from my old Masters of the Universe cartoon cup (which I'm totally snatching from here when I leave)...and it is weird to hear my parents speak of selling this house in the next five years...I don't want them to...I want all the childhood shit my mom has been hoarding for years to stay put...I'm still using the same towel I did 15 years ago...it's so comforting...

But, I'm here to see the baby graduate high school...we are young adults...doing young adult things ("young adult" should be used very loosely in some instances)...last night, my brothers came home drunk...just to climb onto the basement couches with me and pass out...together...yes, we are different and growing older, but inside we are still the same three siblings that can revert back to our childhood roles within seconds...

I think it is so hard for me because I'm so far away from starting my own family...maybe, all I need is to know this sanctuary will soon cease to exist and "coming home" will have to be redefined...

I got the heavy off my chest so I can now move onto the dirty-dirty I've missed writing and exploring....

ps...I'm on the little tyke's computer and the girl he took to prom is IM-ing him because he won't call his ex-girlfriend...she's actually calling him a "stupid bastard"...and, I'm sooo mature now that I'm considering fucking with her head...but, that's mean...so, I'll think about it some more before I do it...

so sorry...

2005-05-07T10:05:00.000-05:00

I'm so sorry I haven't been around...
I miss you all...and reading your stuff...
But, I'm not dead...I've been extremely busy and unfortunately, I don't play with Blogger at work but rather during my free time...and there isn't a lot right now...
I've had family visiting, working, helping friends through issues, good-bye parties, moving into my new home and now, I'm writing to say I'm still not slowing down...I'm gonna be gone all this month for work (they're sending me to Indiana...which I hear sucks but I've never been before so I'll let you know, later)...then, I'm going to Boston to see my baby brother graduate HS...
sorry for not dropping by earlier...but, I wanted to be able to write something and not leave a stupid message like this...
I swear...beginning of June...I'll catch up with everyone's blogs

Happy Mommy Day to all you ladies out there

I love my daddy

2005-04-13T13:45:00.000-05:00

I’ve been working on this for the last two weeks...not that it’s exceptional but, rather, it takes me a long time to write something I adore...

The time has come
For closing books, and long last looks must end
And as I leave
I know that I am leaving my best friend
A friend who taught me right from wrong
And weak from strong
That’s a lot to learn
What, what can I give you in return?
If you wanted the moon
I would try to make a start
But I, would rather let me give my heart
To you, with love

Those schoolgirl days
Of telling tales and biting nails are gone, yeah
But in my mind
I know that they live on and on and on and on
But how do you thank someone
Who has taken you from crayons to perfume?
Well it’s not easy
But I’ll try

If you wanted the sky
I would write across the sky in letters
That would soar a thousand feet high
To you, with love

Those awkward years have hurried by
Why did they fly, fly away
Why is it sir children, grow up to be people one day?
What takes the place of climbing trees and dirty knees in the world outside?
What, what is there that I can buy?
If you wanted the world
I’d surround it with a wall I’d scrawl
These words with letters ten feet tall
To you, with love

I’m not one to fantasize about specific future plans...I find that my life has less disappointments and I’ve enjoyed moving with the flow of how events unfold...
but, I do have one fantasy that will crush me if it never happens...dancing with my father to the song above at my wedding...

I love everyone in my family with all my heart...but, my father and I have a special relationship...and I would never take one moment between us back....

I’m his first child and his only daughter...he is the one who paid me the biggest compliment of my life "you and your mother posses a naive innocence the outside world can’t seem to touch or destroy"... and, sometimes, I feel my brothers got the raw end of the deal because he poured so much energy and love into raising me...

he taught me about independence and the internal strength to be self-sufficient...
I still remember my "first" of many lessons...I could never get the straps of my Osh Kosh B’Gosh overalls on after going to the bathroom...so, I’d run to the nearest adult for help...one day, I ran into the living room, where my Papa was reading and waited for him to fix my straps...he looked up at me and told me that he nor anyone else was going to help me with my pants ever again, so I’d better get back in the bathroom and not come out until I figured how to fully dress myself...I went back, crying and protesting, screaming about how I was a little kid and couldn’t reach behind my back for the straps...I spent fifteen minutes in this temper tantrum, flailing about, trying to close my overalls...and, suddenly, I realized I had done it by myself...I returned to the living room, hurt and upset, but the look of pride on my Papa’s face was better than anything I can remember...
how to read an analog clock when I was four...
to appreciate the Rolling Stones and Mozart...
how to handle household repairs with tenacity and research...like the time one of my brothers and I had to install panes of window glass that we broke during a fist fight...

he introduced me to the art of storytelling...and constantly encouraged me to practice mine...
he read Alice in Wonderland, Through the Looking Glass and the Hobbit aloud to me at least fifty times...
listened to the poems and stories I’d write when I was young and first learned how to spell words...
and, today, loves to sit and laugh around pints in a pub as I recount the tales from many of my romantic, wild adventures always interjecting "Bou, you better be writing these things down!"

he fostered my love of movies...arguably at too young of an age...which meant we had to wait until my mom left the house...
the 007 James Bond series (Octopussy was the first movie I saw in a theater), Apocalypse Now, 2001: Space Odyssey, Monty Python’s Search for the Holy Grail, Airplane, Blue Velvet, Clint Eastwood and the spaghetti westerns, everything Stanley Kubrick, the Star Wars Trilogy and the Exorcist (and when the infamous "fuck me, Jesus" crucifix masturbation craziness came on, he replied "these special effects are very realistic")...

he supported me and my "extra curricular" activities......
driving me to soccer practice on his motorcycle (which I got teased about because our town was full of rich, white judgmental jerks who called me white trash because my family had a bike instead of a second car...in hindsight, I’m sure they were all jealous)...
reading and working in the living room while I practiced piano, commenting on my improvements...
taking me to see Guns n Roses at the Garden when I was in the fifth grade...
quizzing me for spelling and geography tests...
yelling "Go Bou!" the second before the official fired the gun at my swimming meets...

he embarrassed me with human sexuality...creating the open approach that I project today...
I hated watching sex scenes with him in the same room because he would always say "oh, look Bou, they’re kissing for you!!! They know how much you like to watch!!!"...or, whenever I would question if "Mom was coming?", his reply would be "I didn’t know she was excited" (took me a few years to understand the implications of that one)...he would talk about morning wood and how he would have to fuck our Mom because "she was in a bad mood" at the dinner table...
(yes, the man is very twisted...but, it made him the "coolest" dad with all my HS friends...now y’all know that this apple didn’t fall far from the tree)...

he loved to mentally torture me...
like hiding behind doors and in basements just to jump out when I least expected it, yelling "Muwaahhh!" (he said I had the best scream and jumped the highest)...
he fed me only blue Flintstone vitamins and my brother pink ones so that I would "grow hair on my chest" and my brother would develop "big beautiful breasts"...
when I’d hurt an appendage he would grab a kitchen knife and tell me if he cut it off the pain would go away...

well, when I went to Cali, I went with my father to visit the dying members of his family (my brilliant, beautiful uncle who is withering away from MS and the intense anti-trust suit he has acquired against Visa...and, my loving, kind grandfather who is a war hero and one of the bravest men I know)...

I was not looking forward to this trip...for many reasons, but the biggest was spending five days alone with my father...

why?

because, he is an intellectually intimidating man...with his vast education and expertise in economics...I had no idea who he was until my brother called me one day to say he had to study one of my father’s papers in his college class...

and, while my family doesn’t verbalize it to my face, I’m acutely aware that I’ve not lived up to the standards they set for me...which, when I’m not around them, never bothers me...
but, this trip placed everything in perspective...for both of us...

I learned that I had a lot to teach my Papa...stuff you can’t read, research or study about...it’s the stuff you have to touch, feel and smell...

And, he loved every second of my crazy stories of wild nights, the mix CDs I made for the car rides through Northern Cali (I created a Tenacious D fan), my movie recommendations and reviews, my crazy theories on how the tripod of global economic powers would be Asia, the EU and the Americas, explaining that we’ve infiltrated the Middle East as a gateway to Africa, my future plans to move to Australia because they are geographically lucky, the wonder at watching my grandmother order her medications from Israel on-line...and trying to guess what technological advancement would be common practice when I turned 83 (we settled on micro-chips implanted in the brain to simulate telepathic communication), the art of body language and how to really listen and "hear" what people are saying, my love of old houses and furniture and the disgust with the carbon-copy flimsy products of today (which, being an economist he argued against), the etymology of racial slurs (sparked by my grandparents learned racist behavior and remarks), my fears of pills and birth control and preservatives...

but,

the best conversation was a huge compliment to him (in disguise...because it is hard for me to be openly affectionate, sober)...

we were discussing raising daughters because one of his friends has three and is scared shitless to send them out into the big, wide world for slaughtering...I asked my father why?

"Because, he doesn’t want them to get hurt, emotionally...he knows that relationships can be painful"
"Papa...you just need to tell him this...the girlfriends that I’ve encountered in my life that were scarred by men came from two categories...ones with no fathers and ones with suffocating fathers...either through molestation or too much coddling...the best thing he can do is teach them to be strong, smart, savvy and stand by them, so that when the shit does hit the fan they know they have a rock to support them."

all of mine are solid gold

2005-04-12T23:20:00.000-05:00

so, not to get all sentimental and cheese mosso...

MY FRIENDS KICK FUCKIN' ASS...including you bloggy shites

way more than these chub-lovin' titty-fuckers...

and, it takes nothing more then a little bind to bring out the kindness and generosity of the people that loves me...
my recent situation was a lack of gr$$n...
actually, more like none what-so eva...
I've been stretching my $25.95 checking account balance for the last week...and, I still managed to have fun...thanks to all the beautiful souls I've included in my life...
Thursday, I had a headache and I was working...when I asked one of my buddies if he had any pain reliever, he told me he had something better that would work just as well...and gave me a joint...sweet, sweet boy...
Friday, a co-worker decided it was high time we finally got drunk together (which was odd that it never occurred before...seeing as I drink almost every night...not in an alcoholic kinda way...just in a pint to unwind from a hard day kinda way)...so, she took me out to our after work bar...and, then to her dive-bar where everyone knew her name (and the shots were free)...
Saturday, when I thought I couldn't take another second of crappy new SNL skits and even crappier re-runs, I was pleasantly surprised and entertained by a drunken phone call...normally, my phone is used to make plans and meet friends or to hear the weekly update from the fam in Beantown...but, it was exciting to play chatty kathy...brought me straight back to 1993 and feelin' like I was 15, again...
Sunday, my future roomies invited me out to a bar-b-que at my new home...and, I was fed hot chicken wings, spicy italian sausages, beers and cigarettes...in addition to chill conversation and slow jams...
Monday, I found out I won BM's Corndog Contest...I really, really needed to feel like a winner, too...

so, while I thought my weekend would suck and I would wallow in my misery...spooning with my self-pity...none of my friends would let me...

which is awesome and something I've always held as the highest priority in my life...

so, to all my luva-luvas, homies, hoochie mammas and all-round troublemakers...
THANK YOU and I LUVS YOU!!!
(and, a few rounds of shots on me this weekend...'cause I gots paid!!!)

"KFC...the only thing missing is you"

2005-04-11T23:31:00.000-05:00

(I totally stole that title from a comedian)

the other night we were talking sex dreams...
why?
well, one of the many effects of being a born-again lilly-white virgin, pure as the driven snow, is a physical sexuality breakdown...meaning I don't get my period anymore, the frustration is so ripe in my pheromonal aura that I become the ultimate teaser bitch and I have the raunchiest dreams almost every night...

so, over a few beers at the bar, I confessed to my friend that my body was protesting against my celibate lifestyle because I kept waking up from extremely deep orgasms during my REM period...
a little jealous, he told me he never had wet dreams...
ever...
not even during his semi-permanent hard-on teenage years...
this intrigued me and when I asked him if he ever dreamed about sex, he replied yes and no...
he would frequently "hook-up" with girls in his dreams but never achieve actual penetration...but, as a side note, he did admit to waking up horny as hell in the morning (which is pretty common amongst men and women)...but, he insisted it was abnormally intense...to the point where he would fuck any female laying beside him without a second thought...
his "phenomenon" reminded me of my first psychology lessons in dreaming...I told him about the two days we spent analyzing our dreams in my Behavioral Sciences class senior year of high school (which I lovingly called "BS")...my teacher was explaining that you never really "die" in your dreams because you have no personal reference of death...meaning that when I had the re-occurring dream of the psycho killer stabbing me to death, it was not a surprise I never felt an actual knife blade because my perspective would suddenly shift from the first person to the third...the theory being that because I've never been stabbed in "real life" with a large kitchen knife, I couldn't complete the dream scenario...
but, of course, I had to be contrary and blow holes through that train of reasoning...I admitted to my teacher (and the whole class...which in retrospect might explain the sudden infatuation Paul Hopkins developed for me soon after) that my sex dreams, while I was a "real life" virgin, were pretty detail specific and my fantasies about "feeling" a penis inside me were very correct (as I later found out)...I even admitted to cumming in my dreams which I knew was "real"...my teacher defended the theory by stating that I was probably masturbating in my sleep...including sticking my fingers inside myself to achieve that filled-up feeling...I'm still a little skeptical...fingers do not equal cock

nice

better

bestest

no, seriously...I was going somewhere with this...

this weekend I had the most perverse/odd sex dream to date...and, it was very frustrating...I won't bore you with the details about how I was in a band on the run from a gang of religious conformists in an apocalyptic eastern Europe...instead, I'll skip straight to the freaky-deakiness...
I was hiding in a church...in the bell tower...when, one of the "gang" members happened upon me...we locked eyes and suddenly I felt the electric sexual tension rush through me...the dull pulse between me legs...and, I knew it was on...
BUT...
I was still abstaining in my dream world, too...and, after a long sweaty make-out borderline dry-fucking session, I still refused to succumb to my primal urges and his hard dick...that is when he disappeared only to return with a large red candle...its core was burnt half-way down...leaving a deep hollow pocket...
"what is that for?" I asked as I watched him melt the base with a lighter
"I'm going to wax you" he answered as he placed the hot candle to my groin
he then started screwing the candle...pushing it hard against my clit...he finished but I didn't get to cum...I was left with a red wax circle around my cooch...

ok...this is what weirded me out...not the idea that I had non-penetrating sex with a big red candle (although I'd like to know if anyone has it in a dream book because I can't find the meaning behind that one), but the fact I had a term for what the fuck was happening..."waxing"?...not exactly genius material but still...what is going on in my sub-conscious?...

I'll take any theories...

mine is that I need to get laid...pronto...

my new approach to Blogger's punk-ass bitchiness

2005-04-10T00:11:00.000-05:00

at least I'm not drunk-dialing boys...

2005-04-09T02:37:00.000-05:00

train of thought while sucking on a cancer stick...

2005-04-08T11:30:00.000-05:00

two girls (no, these are WOMEN) pull up in front of me on their Harleys...the light just turned red, so I take advantage of the few minutes I get to stare...they sit straight backed...breasts pushed out...laughing (not giggling) and talking...one of them has a fine ass...the kind that bubbles out, all round and tight-looking...damn, does she know she looks that good straddling her motorcycle?...the guy behind them on his bike catches me...we make eye contact...he probably thinks I'm a dirty little lesbian...he KNOWS what I'm doing...why do I always check girls out?...been there, done that...I LOVE boys much more...
though, I would dyke out with these two at the same time...

but, these are the three ladies I would go gay for...

(Hud, hopefully you appreciate this one...I lesi-like Lynda, though, not WW)
yeah, dark hair and pale eyes suck me in...but this is all fantasy...and, I think I'm just infatuated with what I don't have...
there is that one "real" girl I've seen around Chicago for the last three years...she looks like a mix between Mary Jane and Poison Ivy...

she looks all bad-ass and tough...she's completely stacked...but, she has the sweetest voice and the friendliest personality...I get sooo shy around her...I just stare like a creepy old man...stalking her in wide arches...getting close...moving away...afraid I might touch her...it reminds me of what Jess was telling me the other night...how she had seen that girl in her high school once and knew they were meant to be friends...I've never heard of such a thing...but, I remember the first time I saw this girl...I felt it...

talkin' shit...

2005-04-06T10:18:00.000-05:00

ok, guys...this is gonna be an all time low for me...really, I can't get more immature...

(another joke from the uncle...his 90 year old dad sends him these things)
A woman walked into a Lexus dealership to browse, and spotted the most
beautiful, perfectly "loaded" Lexus--and walked over to inspect it closer.

As she bent forward to feel the fine leather upholstery, an unexpected
little burst of flatulence escaped her. Very embarrassed, she anxiously
looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Sure enough, there standing
behind her was a salesman. With a pleasant smile he greeted her, "Good day,
Madame. How may we help you today?"

Trying to maintain an air of sophistication and acting as though nothing had
happened, she smiled back and asked, "Sir, what is the price of this lovely
vehicle?"

Still smiling pleasantly, he replied, "Madame, I'm very sorry to say that if
you farted just touching it, you're gonna shit when you hear the price."

this one is about baking brownies, burping in your pants, cutting the cheese, etc...

yeah, farting...

which one are you???

Vain
You love the smell of your own farts.

Amiable
You love the smell of other people's farts.

Proud
You think your farts are exceptionally fine.

Shy
You release silent farts and then blush.

Impudent
You boldly fart out loud and then laugh.

Anti-Social
When the need arises, you excuse yourself from the room and fart in private.

Strategic
You fart and then conceal it with loud coughing.

Sadistic
You fart in bed and then pull the cover up over your partner's head.

Intellectual
You can determine from the smell of any fart exactly what food item had been consumed.

Athletic
You fart at the slightest exertion.

Miserable
You would love to let one out, but you are unable to fart.

Sensitive
You fart and then start crying.

Unfortunate
You try really hard to fart, but you poop instead.

Scientific
You fart regularly but you're concerned about pollution.

Nervous
You stop in the middle of your fart.

Honest
You admit that you farted but offer good medical reasons.

Dishonest
You fart and then blame the dog.

Foolish
You suppress your farts for hours.

Thrifty
You always keep a couple of good farts in reserve.

depending on my mood, I bounce between anti-social and impudent...and honest but I don't know if you consider morning-after-heavy-drinking farts a "medical" reason...

NO WAIT!!!

I'm sorry, I forgot...girls don't fart!

Psyche! (our group has decided to kick old skool slang...yeah, we're retro like that...maybe, I should have used "not!", instead...whatever)

guys need to get over farting and shitting and tampons...I'm not saying walk hand in hand through a park on a sunny day with your denial...but, realize girls have bodily functions that aren't exactly "pretty"...

so, why am I even discussing this crap?
well, yesterday, at work, a customer uncaged an SBD (silent but deadly) while I was ringing her out...and, of course, she had a lot of clothes and took her time paying...now, the fact that she farted didn't bother me too much...but, she even realized how pungent her ass was and WALKED AWAY while I finished her transaction...and, two of my co-workers moved to the other end of the cash/wrap, laughing and teasing me...there I stood...forced to breathe the polluted air while everyone had the luxury of fleeing the scene...

after this all went down, I was telling one of my co-workers that this sort of thing happens all the time...actually, I'd wager that I deal with some sort of funky situation at my job every shift...he and I discussed the fact that other work environments probably don't have the same issues...trading war stories to prove our point...I told him about the time a guy crop dusted women's sale, watched me walk through the zone, twist my face and purse my lips and scurry out, laughing at me the whole time...that was my first encounter with an intentional attack...(although, I did have a friend, Robert, who waited tables with me in a restaurant, and he would fly through the kitchen, telling everyone to avoid his section because he sprayed his tables and the area needed to be fumigated...poor customers...the food service industry is very vile...I'm sure the Wendy's incident was all you guys needed to realize that...I'll spare much worse details)

but, I'm not gonna completely knock farting...it is one of the best relationship "comfort" barometers...if I ever want to know how "good" a couple is together, I'll ask about their in-front-of-each-other fart status...some examples:

my ex freely farted in front of me...in fact, he used to "dutch-oven" me in bed...truly lovely...now, I did fart in front of him...but, very rarely and unannounced...

I had a set of friends that lived together (not dating, however) and farting was allowed in their house...the only rule was to light a match stored in the coffee table drawer...so, there was never an verbal notification...just the "schtuck" of matchsticks...(we've adopted the same rule in my house now, especially since the dying animal in my brother's ass never seems to go away)

one of my girlfriends admitted she and her boyfriend had never farted in front of each other...this is like a three year relationship...not cool...I guarantee the sex is sucky, too...

maybe I'm weird...but, everyone has at least one funny/embarrassing fart story...and, that makes it one more thing that levels the playing field...

blogger is a bitch-ass punk

2005-04-05T10:43:00.000-05:00

girls on film (and some boys)

2005-04-04T10:44:00.000-05:00

This weekend, I went to see Sin City...

And, I fuckin' loved it!!!

But, I have a chub for Robert Rodriguez and think he is a pop culture/rock star hybrid artist of brilliance that the world hasn't completely embraced or understood, yet (kinda like what John Waters was)...so, I might be a little biased...

the movie has received many positive reviews...but, believe it or not, Roeper hit the nail on the head by saying it will polarize audiences...you're either gonna love it or hate it...

he has come a long way since The Shire...freaky as fuck!

this is my main man...luvs Mickey...ever since I was a little girl...

I went with my friend, Mike who made a few observations...
1. There were only beautiful women on the screen...and, there wasn't a lot of "down" time between their cameos

2. This movie made you want to kill someone and then fuck (the adrenaline rush was nuts...sensory overload, big time...and, I found myself speeding through Chicago to meet my friends at the bar...although, there was a basketball game to catch the end of...and, I've only felt that Nascar-drive once before when I came out of the theater for The Fast and the Furious...my ex and I actually play-fought over who was gonna get to drive the car home...I won on the technicality that it was my car and he wasn't quick enough to snatch my keys away)

hence, this is a movie my mother wouldn't like

and, I've decided I like the juxtaposition of the macabre and sexual beauty...
actually, it is the marriage of anything that sharply contrasts gore and death...
like comedy, love, nativity and innocence...
nothing chills me out like watching a psycho-killer murder scene with an 50's oldie tune playing in the background...

sooo darkly beautiful...

I'm also looking forward to this (which reminds me, I've got Cubs/Red Sox tickets and you don't)...

and, I'll take Mom to this one

spring has mutha fuckin' sprung...

2005-04-01T00:46:00.000-06:00

just click it

check out Paris naked!!!
(game for the boys)

whatta man!!!
(for the girls)

and ">this just made me laugh...

the best April Fools joke I ever played was on my brother...growing up we shared a bathroom...one night I saran wrapped the toilet bowl...stretching it nice and tight, making it invisible to the naked eye...the next morning, I awoke to find the plastic gone...I was wondering if my prank had been successful as I sat on the seat, taking a piss...when I stood up and started pulling up my underwear, I realized my ass was coated with something gooey..."what the fuck is on the toilet seat!?"..."vaseline-you didn't think I wasn't gonna get you back!"...FYI vaseline is extremely hard to wash off your ass...

my gay deceiver

2005-03-31T00:34:00.000-06:00

I just found out my ex is moving back to Chicago...

There's blood in my mouth 'cause I've been biting my tongue all week
I keep on talkin' trash but I never say anything
And the talkin' leads to touchin'
and the touchin' leads to sex
and then there is no mystery left

And it's bad news
Baby I'm bad news
I'm just bad news, bad news, bad news

I know I'm alone if I'm with or without you
but just bein' around you offers me another form of relief
When the lonliness leads to bad dreams
and the bad dreams lead me to callin' you
and I call you and say "C'MERE!"

And it's bad news
Baby I'm bad news
I'm just bad news, bad news, bad news

And it's bad news
Baby it's bad news
It's just bad news, bad news, bad news

'Cause you're just damage control
for a walking corpse like me - like you

'Cause we'll all be portions for foxes
Yeah we'll all be portions for foxes

There's a pretty young thing in front of you
and she's real pretty and she's real into you
and then she's sleepin' inside of you
and the talkin' leads to touchin'
and the touchin' leads to sex
and then there is no mystery left

And it's bad news
I don't blame you
I do the same thing
I get lonely too

And you're bad news
My friends tell me to leave you
That you're bad news, bad news, bad news

You're bad news
Baby you're bad news
and you're bad news
Baby you're bad news
and you're bad news
I don't care I like you
and you're bad news
I don't care I like you
I like you
"Portions for Foxes" Rilo Kiley (click to listen)

L
so, you are moving back here, again...I wish you wouldn't...it's less confusing when you live far away and call me randomly when you are lonely and want something familiar...yeah, I'm crying as I type this...and, I know it hurts you when you do that to me...and, yet, I know you secretly enjoy seeing a physical reaction of how deep my feelings run for you...I want to be so happy for you because you have come so far in finding your personal happiness...you never believed me when I told you that it was possible without me or anyone else...but, I'm getting selfish...I need to do the same for me...and, I'm afraid that I'll hurt you and myself in the process...I know you love me more than anyone else in your life...and, I earned that trust...and, with this, I don't want to throw that respect away...but, I need something that I've always denied myself (and, you do the same...I think that is why we fell together)...I want to be passionate...I want to give my heart freely, my emotions openly and risk having someone say "I love you" while kissing me softly...you gave me something that I never asked for and I will always be grateful...you taught me that I can love unconditionally...trust...understand deeply...but, mostly, accept someone else into my personal world...that I'm not meant to be an unemotional hermit...but, I don't think I can do it with you...I think we are interpreting our past as proof for the future...our biggest hurt was together...our happiest/weakest moments were together...our ugliest/most beautiful faces were towards each other...our most hateful/loving words were for one another...I will always look at you with love...I will never abandon you...I will always respect you...and, I will never intentionally hurt you...I'm so sorry...
B

I just need to hear that I can do this...

this post was written a few days ago when I got the text message asking me to pick him up from the airport in two weeks...last night, I went drinking after work (magically, I've kicked my cold's ass pretty quickly)...the conversation was crazy and wonderfully twisted and all over the map of human history...and, in the moment of looking around at the amazing people I'm growing tighter/falling in love with, I realized that everything is going to be alright...actually, it's gonna be wicked fucking awesome...I'm all good now...

smack this bitch up

2005-03-30T14:06:00.000-06:00

wee, wee all the way home...

2005-03-30T11:37:00.000-06:00

by the way...Blogger has a personal vendetta against me and won't let me do ANYTHING...like post on my blog or comment on yours...but, we are working this out and soon I will convince Blogger that this relationship is just gonna have to change...

so, I was supposed to be writing seriousness and asking y'all for advice, but, fuck that...I'm in a state of avoidance...so, I'll be getting back to my problem, later...

instead...let us talk...

FETISH

recently, I admitted to my co-workers I have a foot fetish...

no, I don't do this (though I can!)...

and I don't need this to get off...

and I don't have the need to do this (but she seems very talented...actually, I've never even tried this, so it looks like I have another thing added to my "things to try before I die" list)...

no...I just LOVE feet...(it's really nonsexual...I was arguing with one co-worker that the term "fetish" is more about an obsession or fascination which can be sexual)

what is there to like?
well...
little sausage toes
painted nails
small patches of toe hair
rough heels
large arches
stinky sweetness (I've only met a few feet that were too odoriferous)
long nails
bunions, blisters and calluses
giving foot massages (I have this amazing mint oil that feels sooo goood)
cracking toes (other people's-not mine)
pedicures

I KNOW it's gross!!! that is why I'm weird and have weird fetishes...I think my preoccupation started with my brother...he was born with slightly deformed feet...his pinky toes are completely turned sideways and curl over the toes next to them...when we were little, I'd grab the toes and try and "straighten" them...I'd even yell at them, telling them they were pointed the wrong way...as my brother got older, he'd just slap me away...last year, while drunk in Las Vegas, he broke one of the pinky toes, and, in the healing process, it corrected itself...I asked him if he can "feel" the difference...he replied "yes" and that he doesn't like it straight...

so, it didn't occur to me that I had any real sexual fetish...until last night at work...

I was handing a man his change, when I noticed his hands...they were nice and well proportioned, but extremely dirty...they were black under the finger nails...the kind of dirt that is always there, even after a good long scrubbing...which, kinda got me excited, because I knew he probably worked with his hands and they were probably rough and hard and thick-skinned...and, I couldn't wait to touch them as I gave him his money...I was ecstatic that they were more coarse and rugged then I'd thought as I brushed them with my fingers...

so, what makes this sexual???

everytime I come across a pair of hands I like, I fantasize about them touching me...specifically, my breasts...rubbing my soft skin...cupping my boobs...pinching my nipples...

(ok...I know this looks very "breast examination"ish...but, I couldn't find any pictures of hands that I kinda liked touching titties...and, then I got distracted with another porn site and I decided to end my search)

back to my point...I picture detached hands fondling me...just hands...no owner (in fact, I really wasn't attracted to the guy last night...just his dirty-boy hands)...

where did this one originate??? I've got no idea...but, I've obsessed with hands since I was little...which might explain my love of Auguste Rodin (the only museum I enjoyed visiting in Paris was an old house full of his works...my family ditched me there because 2 hours was not enough time for me)...

*sigh*

anyways, when I told my co-workers about the dirty-boy hands, they weren't surprised...only because I like manly men...all gruff and stuff...and, one of the gay boys told me the nastiest/dirtiest he could go was Johnny Knoxville...

my reply???

I would do a bukkake porn with the whole cast of CKY/Jackass...

yeah, the pervesion continues...sorry...I'm a dirty gurl with a big imagination...

but seriously, have you ever seen anything sooo f-ing precious?

hey, everybody

2005-03-28T08:03:00.000-06:00

here are some answers to past comments...

Kitten: you wanted pics of the sexy man voices...here they are...
bachelor #1: Nick (aka "Nikita"...which only I can call him because he is like a son to me)

bachelor #2: Mike (one of the first friends I made here in Chicago)

I will be moving in with these two studs plus two other boys in two months (it's a sweet house with a backyard, a garage and a pool table)...yeah, I like living with boys and it's high time I ditch the cock-block brother (no hanky-panky with my new roomies, though)

Bookend: Nick thought he was talking to one of my girlfriends...later, I told him it was my mom, which he replied "shit, my message was kinda sexual"...Mike knew he was talking to my blog...he is one of the privileged few that gets to read this and knows the outside Bou, too

Freddie: I was in Northern Cali (Marin, Napa and Sonoma)...I would never visit Cali and purposely avoid you...one day, sweetie, I will be in your 'hood and let you know...

BM: I left you a drunken post...completely unplanned and meandering everywhere...you and your fam need to visit me here...so we can have good drinks, good tunes and fuckin' awesome bowling...

Rex: I owe you a message...and, it's coming...read the book...and, there is ALWAYS insanity in my world (I wouldn't have it any other way)

Diane: My friend at Hud's show was the sailor with the moustache...naw, just dickin' around, it was the cute elf with the santa hat...

OK, folks...I need some time to catch up with your blogs...don't mind any comments on your old posts 'cause I'm feeling chatty today...I'll be back with some real writing tomorrow...I need some advice on life changing decision #3

have a hopping easter!!!

2005-03-27T07:18:00.000-06:00

this is a silly rabbit

believe it or not, I actually miss going to church this time of year...even more than Christmas (yeah, folks, I was raised with lots of religious moral influences...my mom is Catholic)...but now, I'm a bad christian and Easter means working, chocolate bunnies and drinking with my agnostic friends...

sweetness

2005-03-26T20:27:00.000-06:00

my nipples are hard and my pussy's wet

drunk bitch and her book recommendation

2005-03-25T19:46:00.000-06:00

drunk bitch at the airport...or...I luv BM

2005-03-25T19:40:00.000-06:00

drunk studs

2005-03-20T23:52:00.000-06:00

drunk bitch

2005-03-20T22:05:00.000-06:00

help...I'm caught in a beer flooded wormhole

2005-03-19T09:37:00.000-06:00

silly joke my uncle sent me (along with a t-shirt from a hotdog stand in Buttzville, NJ...the potty humor gets me everytime):
A blind man enters a lesbian bar by mistake. He finds his way to a barstool and orders a drink. After sitting there for a while, he yells to the bartender in a loud voice, "Hey bartender, you wanna hear a dumb blonde joke?"
The bar immediately falls deathly quiet. In a deep, husky voice, the woman next to him says, "Before you tell that joke, sir, I think it is just fair, given that you are blind, that you should know five things...
One: The bartender is a blonde woman.
Two: The bouncer is a blonde woman.
Three: The woman sitting next to me is blonde and is a professional boxer.
Four: The lady to your right is a blonde and is a professional wrestler.
Five: I'm a 6-foot, 200 pound blonde woman with a Ph.D., a black belt in Karate, and a very bad attitude.
Now, think about it seriously, mister. Do you still want to tell that joke?"
The blind man thinks for a second, shakes his head and says:"Nah. Not if I'm gonna have to explain it five times."

so...guess how I dealt with my St. Paddy's Day hangover???
if you guessed a day of being rubbed down with oils and salts, cucumber eye patches, mud facials and pedicures while being fed grapes by naked men...you would be wrong...so unfortunate!

nope...I worked, went to see a show and then a b-day party at a bar...
deja fuckin' vu!!!

but, it was awesome!!! I brought my girlfriends to see Don't Spit the Water...which Hud is in...one of the girls and I arrived before the other two...so, I volunteered one of them to be in the show...she 'bout kicked my ass when her name was called...and, she spent the rest of the night on stage...with us laughing at her and the comedians...actually, it was a great hangover cure (along with the beers I drank)...so, anyone in Chi-town, I highly recommend the show, especially with a giggle posse...and, again, I met another Blogger in person...which was nerve-wracking but I was so glad to finally break free of cyber world...Hud turned out to be a very nice person, in person (although, he did try and bite me)...

the b-day party was fun, but the 2am Taco Bell drive-thru became the highlight (even though I didn't order anything...I've barfed one too many times off it)...we had chinese firedrill piss breaks while waiting in line...and, of course, I was making friends with the fellow drunks cutting through the parking lot...I'm quite the drunken babbling brook...

so, I'm only a little achy today...which is good...because, tonight, I have a work party followed by (oh, the surprises!!!!)...

...ANOTHER FUCKING BAR BIRTHDAY PARTY!!!

the liver is evil and must be punished

I'm loving life and alcoholism

2005-03-18T11:57:00.000-06:00

Blogger is being a heifer, again...
And I'm hung-ova, again...
(I thought with age the ability to drink until 4am disappeared!)

I recorded a drunken St. Patrick's Day speech last night...and it still hasn't popped up yet!
look at the card my Papa sent me...

so, what did I do last night?
well...
one of the most amazing women ever to walk this planet rented out a bar for her b-day...that's because she competes with a major holiday and she decided to make it easier for everyone to throw down together...and it was big!!!
but, before the binge-drink fest...
I went to see Matt's play, Ragnarok, which was in a pretty little church by my 'hood...and I LOVED IT!!! I think all the reviews that were negative or lukewarm didn't get the point, at all...the show was serious, beautiful, ugly, happy, funny and sad...but...most importantly, it was very interactive...
I brought my bestest girly friend, Molly, who wouldn't enter the church, at first, because "even though she isn't religious, she was definitely going to burn in Hell for being in a house of God drunk"...I (sober, surprisingly) replied that "God loves all his children...even the drunk ones"...but, by the time the show started and she heard some of the dialogue (which has swears) she felt a little less blasphemous...

so, what did we love about the show??? the singing, the storytelling, the high energy and Loki (whom I relate to in my life a little too well)
Molly LOVED Loki...actually, Matt, if Loki is single he definitely has a little admirer...
I thought the whole cast was sweet, cute and mutha-fucking talented...and it was a treat to meet a fellow Blogger in person...

In conclusion, I've seen many shows in my time, so I'm an intermediate critic, and this one was awesome...not because I want to kiss Matt's ass and be all nice and puppy...but, because it made me react and interact and was completely entertaining...

now, I have to sleep my boozing off before I go to work and repeat the partying, again...

I'm hung-ova

2005-03-16T10:50:00.000-06:00

this entertained me for far too long...seriously...I moved my keyboard to give my mouse a bigger playing field...(click it)

I think this is hilarious(touch it)
and, this is fucking hilarious (feel it)

fucking and beer

2005-03-15T01:03:00.000-06:00

ok, I normally try to stay clear of blog wars and controversy...but, I've guzzled a few beers and feisty fuckhead is popping up...since I have to work early and there is no man in the vicinity, I've turned to you, Blogger, my mute lover (sshhh...don't talk)...I needs to tanker easy, but I'm emotional and loves feeling the juices gush forward and serge through the veins...yeah, I likes the adrenaline...
I just read Quixotic Cat's response to YGWIN's response to an email which, yes, was a response to one of her entries...that's a lot of reacting...and, can I just interject and say you ladies rock for opening the flood gates...

first, I will start with: I concur with the Cat...blogs are personal...the statements made are the individual's whims, feelings, ideas, art, music, life, loves, hates, fetishes, pictures, stories, et-mutha fucking cetera...hey, each blog is a beautiful interesting glimpse into another's mind...NONE OF US HAVE ANY FUCKING RIGHT TO QUESTION WHAT IS OFFERED...it has absolutely nothing to do with you...your reaction and thoughts provoked by another's statements are yours...but, the entry in itself is outside your relative world...so, take your opinions and run with them...hug them, fuck them, scream at them, shit n piss on them, cry at them, laugh at them, write them, feel them, see them, but most importantly, understand that they're yours and the catalyst is just the match that brought forth the fire in you...so, Miss Pony's fantasy is hers...and only hers...her way...and, I'm glad that she loves me for talking about me...because, guess what?..I've only got myself to know...I can guess/imagine/fantasize/question/empathize/despise everyone else's realm of reality, but I can never claim to climb inside and be you...

wooha!!! my chest is light and airy...I can breathe...hold on, I'm going to the fridge for another cocktail (could there be a more perfect word in existence...and, on so many levels???)

ok, I'm back...I lied...I took a piss, then got another beer...I'd sneak a cig, too, if I could...

now, let us dis-cuss my favoright...sex, sexiness and naked sex-you-ality!!!

why does Bou obsess??? well, lova-lovas...it is the last thing I cling to as proof of my manimal roots...procreation...EVERYBODY IS DOING IT!!! and, we are blessed with the know-how on having fun with it...so, let us run with it...

I like it all:
mad happy donkey sex
giggly tickle rumpus
deep meat injections
sweaty swearing screwing
long-lasting love making
hard rough fucking
wet sloppy dick sticking
quiet slow penetration
scratch bite bumping
dirty raunchy rockus
(insert your fave here)

now, back to the matter at hand (speaking of which...I don't know if it is the alcohol or my frustration...but, I will have to take care of personal business in a moment...so, we are finishing this fast)

Pony's critic discussed her blatant sexuality...and pandering said object to the boys (I'm sure my bullshit would revolt the critic...and, that makes my dick harder...not meant meanly...just honestly)

well, my reaction is as follows...what do you think draws us to each other??? magnetic fields (actually, maybe it is...), full moons (hoooowlll), the cosmos (I really hope not, because I'm always drawn towards the wrong signs)...

I say S-E-X!!!

I'm attracted to something in everyone I've ever gravitated towards...girl or boy...that doesn't mean I'm fucking them...it just means I find something desirable...
it could be:
your scar
your words
your smile
your eyes
your voice
your cloths
your walk
your dreams
your feet
your hands
your ass
your ideals
your morals
your hair
your ink
your motorcycle (I'm sorry...)
your art
your philosophies
your lips
your laugh
your hug
your scent

and, the list continues for an eternity....

now, please do not kill me girls...I'm not trying to be a little shit...but, woman do not always understand the "sexuality"...here is my observation:

men are simple, understated creatures (boys, I swear I lu-hee you for it)
Pony does not need to write a complex, silly, sexy fantasy to turn them on...they see the lips...they "hear" her voice...and, they start the fantasy...she has been "pandering" to them by being herself...
girls, cop-a-squat...boys likes a lot about you (the hetro ones)...smile a certain way, bend-over a certain way, giggle a certain way, connect stares a certain way, grasp a forearm a certain way, speak a certain way,

BEER/PISS break!!!

intellectualize a certain way, sing a certain way, bounce your titties a certain way, dress a certain way, walk a certain way, swish your baby-maker a certain way, etc, etc, etc, and some man is definitely a noticin' and enjoyin'...doesn't mean he wants to marry you and live the princess ending...but, it does mean, for a moment, you were the all consuming thought in his head...

I *heart* manses
I often forget, but you guys make me feel like a natural woman (as well as babies, baths, boobs, brushes, and perfume)

so, in conclusion...YGWIN, the Cat, Kitten, Bookend and every other woman out there...strut your stuff, hooch it out, tuck it away, play coy momma, do what you got to do...just keep it sexy hotness the way you likes it...

I'm out!

ps...I'm an asshole...I just left the empty six pack cardboard carton in the fridge...and, it wasn't my beer...g'night...and sweet dreams...I'm going to masturbate...lesbians, here I cum (get it!?!)

keep it simple, stupid...or...monkey no like learn, part do

2005-03-14T12:44:00.000-06:00

so, the other day I was talking to one of my co-workers about writing...

he writes novels and stories...usually fiction, usually set in the future...using various styles and voices...
I write in my journal, here in my blog, and on scraps of paper...usually non fiction, set in the present...and I do it in my voice...the one I speak with...which means there are misspellings, because I pronounce words the way they apply to my context...certain letters omitted to be replaced by others or nothing, emphasis in the wrong place, tenses higglety-pigglety <---- see? I say it with a "t" not a "d"...punctuation flies off the page and reinserts where ever it feels needed...fragments and bad grammar thrive here...the Longman Handbook would be shitting it’s pants...

so, I was telling him that since I’ve left school and started again, grammar rules have changed a bit...now, I was having this conversation to provoke him...which I do brillantilly (my word for scratchy harsh goodness)...because he is proper, well spoken, highly educated and LOVES following policy and procedure...this, however, does not mean he doesn’t have a sense of humor...enter me...loud, obnoxious, completely inappropriate (yet, always seems to pull it off), slightly edumacated and LOVES credit card swiping rules and regulations when the consequences aren’t too detrimental...his favorite author is Kafka...mine is a tie between Lewis Carroll and Dr. Seuss...yup, we’re oil and vinegar...and we play with it beyoutifully, because we respect each other...

so, I tell him of the new grammar rule which allows you to say "If a student has extra money from their loans, they should throw a keg party with all nude strippers"...
"you are referring to the shifts in pronouns?"
"yes, my english proff said ‘s/he’ or ‘one’ is still considered correct, but you can write ‘their’...ha, I told you popular culture will dominate the world!"
"no! that is wrong! that is stupid! they can’t change that!" (his explosion was ten times better than I imagined)
"I think ‘they’ can do whatever ‘they’ want...I was just telling Tedd that I want to write in my voice...and not suffer red marks everywhere...because sometimes I mean ‘pajamas’ and sometimes I mean ‘bajamas’ and I want my reader to know there is a difference"
and...
end scene

this does not mean I haven’t had some rules drilled into my skull...forever lodged in my memory...but, usually, I ignore spell/grammar check....unless, I’m drunk and then it becomes fine motor skills check...

so, I’ve decided to embrace my way of verbalization...and lay on my terminologies nice and thick...and feel free to share your’s (it’s supposed to be "yours" but me loves that apostrophe...it makes the "r" look like it’s scooping the "s")...

monkey no like learn

2005-03-14T00:15:00.000-06:00

that title really doesn’t have too much relevance to this next entry...it was something scrawled across a chalkboard in a classroom of the Anthropology department at UIC...I was walking to one of my business classes, noticed it and started laughing...oh, those silly anthro students and their humor...

nope, this entry is going to be about the differences between the sexes (an obvious obsession of mine)...

fairly recently, Lawrence H. Summers, the president of Harvard, discussed the lack of women in the science and engineering fields...here is a reactionary article...and, here are some opinions written to the NY Times on the matter...

Summers discussed the "intrinsic aptitude" of women and suggested that fields like math and science were innately easier for men to understand, hence women had a more difficult time learning these subjects...my reaction is layered and is as follows:

yes, there is a huge difference between how the female mind and the male mind works...and I don’t need multiple scientific studies to prove this...I’ve been gathering data from the people that surround me for years played out in the uncontrolled environment called "life"

yes, education is sexist, racist and economically discriminatory...but, it is something that will not be disappearing anytime soon...honestly, if you want your child to learn at their maximum potential you would have teachers that personally understood each youngster’s academic strengths/weaknesses and manipulated the curriculum accordingly, fostering the necessary growth

yes, Summers fucked up...it is hard being a woman in any field...I am in business and recently wrote a paper on the sexism I've suffered in the professional world (especially, perpetuated by fellow females who mimic the big boss men)...I find that I have to work twice as hard to prove I can run with the dogs...fortunately, for myself, this caters to my love of the twisted sexual power struggle, so I thrive in these conditions...but, I see the unfair pressure applied to other women and can understand how some of them have taken Summers’ comments to heart, feeling like they’ve fallen five steps back from the three forward

lastly...(and this is so fucking editorial, but, hey, it’s my blog so you will all suffer through my opinions)...I come from a mathematical nuclear family (one hs math teacher, one research economist, one actuary and one engineer) and whenever I discuss the following sentiment with them, I solidify my status as the black sheep...math and science are languages...they are theorized and created by humans as a form of communication and explanation...now, everyone always says "there is math in nature"...my answer: yes, there is, because you look for it...but, in our physical world, there really is no perfectly 1+1=2...you can try and discover/recreate that sentence, but it is not naturally occurring...hence, it does not bother me when some head honcho says I’ll have a more difficult time comprehending trigonometry because I’m female...I agree to some extent...but, I’ll bet you I speak body language ten times better than he could ever conceive possible...ten questions, eye contact, twitches and weight shifting...that’s all I need to sniff you out...

now, where was I going with all this??? (I’ll wrap it up, quick folks, I swears)

I’ve been making life altering decisions, lately, one of which involves school...
I’m on my third attempt at college...and, I’m failing miserably (not as in grades but as in interest)...but, I will not elaborate, today (note to self: ADD and ex-large coffee do not play well together)...so, I find myself at a crossroads and my family is not agreeing with the path I’m about to venture down...this is because there are multimillionaires, phDs and successful business owning college graduates three generations deep preceding me...I’m blacker than black, honeys...

well, when I first moved here, my brother decided to start his career in Chi-town, as well, so we’ve been living together, again, after a seven year hiatus from home and adolescence...and what a difference seven years can make in shaping a person...we are polar opposites...I will never forget this remark he made to me, one evening, about three months into our new relationship:

"do you remember when you were smarter than me?"

now, he was referring to my "decline" from National Honor Society hs student to lack of degree and even lesser motivation to get one...
my friend, Heather, (the one I introduced in this entry...who played tonsil hockey with Ron Jeremy), immediately decided to come to my defense (which wasn’t necessary...statements like that never bother me)

"unlike you, Bou is the most open and accepting individual I’ve EVER met...she sees everything on a fourth dimensional level and never judges others’ flawed personalities...and, that, takes an intelligence you could never understand"

I WAS FLOORED!!!

honestly, that has to be one of the top three compliments anyone has ever given me...and the whip cream, cherry and nuts was it’s spontaneity and it’s source...this girl’s mouth caught me off guard all the time (totally key)...

but, what I think I took from all this was that my "intellect" hasn’t disappeared, but rather, morphed into something I can appreciate and apply to my life...and, while my brother can solve any math equation you plop in front of him...I can sell a ketchup popsicle to a politician wearing satin white gloves...

and, maybe it’s due to my female intuition and the ability to "read" people...or, maybe, it’s my wide smile and the fact my breastesses are reals big...

sharing is caring

2005-03-12T00:15:00.000-06:00

this next one is completely way too much info...

deal or stop reading now...

I masturbated for the first time in a week the other day...yeah, I flicked the bean...clicked my mouse...pet the pussy...fingered my cooch...we really could go on for awhile...

so, why has it been so long???

I usually average twice a day...everyday...

but, lately, I’ve been busier than usual and I’ve been making some life changing decisions...the libido was wavering...
and, I’ve listened to my brother and roomie trade off on fucking their girls (it’s a little gross...and their rhythms sound a little off...you know...fast, fast, fast, slow, fast, slow, fast fast fast, slooowww, fast fast fast fast...I'd type "etc" only it really is random chaos...poor girls)
and, I’ve been in a sexual rut...I think this bloggy explains what I’m trying to say...

but, suddenly, the other afternoon, I found myself naked and in front of my pooter...now, it started off as the beginnings of a shower interrupted by the *bling* from my CD burner finishing it’s import...and, then, I thought, while I’m here...might as well check the new editions to my porn directory...and, there were a few...

I watched this to set the mood...and finished with this (yup, it’s lesi strap-on)...

and, then I got greedy...and, popped over to my all time fave

and, there were awesome orgasms...only because absence truly makes this ticker grow fonder...not quite as good as the first time (which I will never forget...fifth grade...middle of the night...just decided I needed to stick my hand in my underpants...felt good...then it started to feel REAL good...and the pressure started to build...I was about to have my first contractions, when I freaked and stopped because I had no idea that I wouldn’t die...the tension was that intense...so, my first meager attempts were up to the breaking point, but never tipping the glass...finally, I caved in and took it past the prologue...but, again, stopped mid-orgasm because the movement was weird and hard to control...time taught me that letting go and pushing it to the finish line was the entire point...they really should teach masturbation in school...although, technique refinement is a pretty fun voyage)

like I said, not quite as good as the first, but it made my toes curl...

I can’t wait to start fucking, again...somebody is definitely gonna get hurt...

I triple dog dare you

2005-03-11T12:30:00.000-06:00

Q: why is it easy to kick a hipster’s ass???
A: because they can’t get past the white belt...

I’m starting a personal revolution...
my new nickname: tackle box
my new occupation: garbage man
my new style: kittywompus

I’ve decided to fuck with the system...I’m aiming for complete social trends anarchy...I’m gonna be that square peg that won’t fit into the circular hole...

so, what brought this on???

a few things, actually...here are two:

one was watching a report on a lioness who adopted an oryx as her "baby" (here’s a link...it’s quite fascinating)...I once heard a quote that popped back into my head after reading about the lioness..."have you ever seen a mistake in nature?"...nope, and I think the only "mistakes" we notice are the ones that contradict our preconceived notions of how our surrounding environment ought to be...mother nature consistently "corrects" herself...it can be harsh, like the birth of sand tiger sharks:
Ovoviviparity-most common. Internal egg laying with gestation and live birth. Sand tigers have a unique variation of ovoviviparity called intrauterine cannibalism. The first young in each of a sand tigers’ two oviducts to reach 60mm tears open its egg and swims to the uterus where it feeds on its siblings, embryos, and the other unfertilized eggs for the rest of gestation. Usually two 3 foot long live pups are born from a mother that is only about 9 feet long. Great whites are also believed to exhibit intrauterine cannibalism.
and it can be compassionate as with our lonely lioness...my point is, we bring the "humanity" and "structure" to these situations...which is fine for helping us digest our world...

second, was the story my tattoo artist told me when I got my second big piece...it was nine years ago, and for a female to have almost an entire limb covered was rare (thank god it has changed so quickly)...I used to be publically harassed and frequently hid my ink so I wouldn’t have to deal with the stares and comments and snap judgements (which was fine because my body modifications are purely for my enjoyment...not conversation starters)...but, Will (my artist) comforted me with his little anecdote...back in his youth, when he suffered the hubris and invincible delusions of grandeur that many of us do, he hung out with the other rock-a-billies and punks in the local tattoo studio...one day, an older gentleman with a three piece business suit, cuff links and leather shoes walked in and asked to speak with an artist...Will said he snickered and thought to himself "this asshole is probably gonna get his wife’s name tattooed to his ass"...however, in the next moment, the man had his jacket and shirt off, exposing a traditional full torso kimono (that’s basically all of your upper body, including arms)...Will said that was the last time he ever "judged a book by it’s cover" (I know...big time cliche...I’ll take any witty suggestions)

so, what do lions and GQ men have in common???

the element of surprise...

you might see me coming but you definitely won’t know what hit you when I get there...
I’m breaking free of the stereotypes and classifications...
I’m gonna pull and pool what I like and how I want it...
I’m rocking to my rhythm with pigtails and clod-hoppers...
I’m hanging a crucifix above my alter with Buddha and a copy of the Koran...
I’m running on peanut oil and solar panels...
I’m eating carbs and drinking full-flavored beer...
I’m cutting all the labels out of my cloths...
I’m shooting my TV and buying a record player...

"I’m the hand up the Mona Lisa’s skirt"

I think we all should do it...take back the corporate claim...mess with the rich white men in high places...keep ‘em guessing...don’t make their job easy...let them try to spoon feed you what’s hot and what’s not...then spit it back...aim for the eye...money-shot style!!!

blogger sux a fart out of my ass!!!

2005-03-10T16:15:00.000-06:00

keep it on the hush-hush

2005-03-10T16:12:00.000-06:00

ready for some pink under belly???

secrets
we all have them
and, lately, I’ve been collecting them
(only because they’ve been offered)

the tiny admissions
the usual garden varieties of scandalous office hook-ups and philanders
the glimpse into the deviant physiological habits of people I know
the huge whales that break through the waves, ripping the appearance of a solid smooth surface

and, as I listen to various people peel their layers back for me, I begin to think of the moral/social etiquette surrounding secrets...

there is the babble passed between people, meant to be spread, shared, discussed...I believe the little devil is called gossip...I hate it but have participated...recently, I’ve tried "earmuffs"...it’s worked to some extent...
sometimes, if it is a small disclosure, I’ll return the trust offering and let something slip about myself...
up one more rung on the classified ladder and I’ll open the vault door...let you step inside...grab your heavy luggage and make you comfortable...
and, at the very top, there are the deep, dark confessions...often cloaked with lies through omission...these are hard for me...I’m about to be flashed...and I will either turn and look away, the "nakedness" burned into my memories and forever linked to that person...or, I will stand akimbo and stare straight into their eyes and dare them to try and scare me...

I’m extremely open and talk freely about taboo subjects on a personal level...drugs, odd habits, sex, crime, feelings, fears, insecurities, loves and hates...my friends appreciate and gravitate towards this...not to mention my long resume in the job of shutting-the-fuck-up about other’s bizness...

this blog has been therapeutic...I pour my inner workings out for my faceless cyber friends to read, piss on, laugh with, scream at, masturbate to...whatever it is you all do in the privacy of your pooter...it is easier knowing I won’t have the walk of shame the next morning...

(side note: I type most of my entries in Word and then cut and paste...and, I find it interesting that my automatic spell/grammar check does not recognize the term "cyber" or "blog" <— there are little red dashes right here!)

I’ve had many, many friends in my life but it is hard for me to bond with anyone completely...I was lucky to have a core group in high school that trusted and respected and supported each other...which, kind of set me up for hurt later when newer friends would burn, lie, cheat and steal...I also move around quite a bit, so I don’t like getting too attached.... "good-byes" destroy me...you have every intention of keeping the promises you make into the future but they're just hopeful wishes...

I’ve been in Chicago for almost three years now...most of my friends I’ve known for two...and, recently, I’ve started to share my blog with them...there was the danger of angering a few because they are all here...sprinkled throughout my entries...there was the possibility of abandoning the Bou they know...but, my biggest fear was looking in their eyes and "seeing" the spark fade...

well, I just wanted to thank you guys...because your confidence and support has pushed me forward with others in my life and, most importantly, myself...

now, I’m going to throw up because I’m gagging on all this fucking cheez whiz!

I laughed so hard I think I just threw up a little...

2005-03-09T09:54:00.000-06:00

girl gone wild

2005-03-07T12:07:00.000-06:00

I'm beginning to realize I'm one of those girls...you know, the one that goes completely buck wild if you feed her one too many shots of Jager...I'm an initiator and an instigator...

I always think I'm along for the ride...but, it soon becomes apparent that I am the ride and my job is to make sure my friends climb on board so we can all go down in a blaze o' glory...

My friend Miguel had his birthday party this weekend at what most of our crew dubbed a "chode bar" (I'm stickin' with my beloved "taint")...you all know these places...the young twenty something (which, at 27, really am no longer a part of) oversized "tavern" hangout...teeming with horny boys and not nearly enough pussy for all of them to go home happy...

Our group stuck out like the new kid in school...we dressed differently...we had that shiny new "glow"...we were unfamiliar with the social hierarchy and we completely disregarded it...moved around it...and created our own buzz...

I arrived a little after 8pm...bought my $13 dollar wristband for domestic drafts, well mixed drinks and wine...and, by 10pm, was fully "retarded" (hey, I wanted to get my money's worth so I made sure the pace was steady and fast)...

By midnight I had created a drunken spectacle of myself...I was jumping between my friends, showering them with kisses and hugs and "I luv u"s...we had found a stranger's disposable camera and taken guerilla photos of cleavage, nipples and cocks...I decided the bartender was the hottest thing since sliced bread (he was scruffy, body like a bull, huge half sleeve on his arm and he popped twist-off bottle tops with his bicep...fuckin' hot!)...so, I tried to pick him up with "I heard you had a royal cock" (one of my gal pals informed me of his prince albert piercing)...not that I would've done anything about it (the belt is staying locked, folks) but it was still fun to get my flirt on...I had slapped a tray of full beers out of our cocktail waitress's hands (her name was Sabrina and accepted my numerous apologies and massive tip...I don't think she held it against me, because we were grinding by the end of the night)...I drunk dialed my boy Nick a gazillion times because he was hanging out with a sexy stud I had met two days previous and I wanted to pump him for info...but, most importantly:

I dropped it like it was hot in da club...this baby's got back and, on the dance floor, I'm a slave 4 u...my motto: stand up and bust a move!

now, I never listen to top 40 at home, but we had to prove our rump shakin' prowess to the regulars (and they had a smoke machine)...so we had our dance-off...and they got served...nothing like girl on girl hip swirlin', boob bouncing and butt smackin' to entertain the masses...

by one, after singing "Livin' on a Prayer" as a huge raunchy choir and a simulated body orgasm with my gay lover Steve to "I Touch Myself", we moved on to a dive bar with half of the group...I did my obligatory public piss in an alley on the walk there...drank more pitchers of swag beer...and entertained the bouncer with our loud conversation about childhood memories of catching our parents "doing it" and our best anal love experiences...

oh, this animal has been hibernation' too long...

this is about being twitterpated...and no fruit fly is gonna solve it!

2005-03-03T15:50:00.000-06:00

this is dedicated to my aussie, Knifey...my gay husband, Tedd...my sad sista, Jenny...and anyone else sittin' on the fence:

what is that speshul sumpin that draws two manimals together???

I gots to figure it out!!!

while I’m no crackerjack, I just feel there’s some veiled element to mojo...

I’m talkin’ about what Helen was droppin'

I’m talkin’ about finding your Keymaster

I’m talkin’ about that certain je ne sais quoi

I’m sure you’ve all experienced the love you just wanted/needed/expected/hoped would work...but, something in the heavens was askew...

I remember when I first met Peter...he was a frat boy, astronomy major with wood carving as a hobby (yes, folks, Greek boys do have a few layers)...I was a purple-haired pixie, college dropout with patent leather and ink as a hobby...we were introduced one night over a handle of vodka and many bong rips...much to my surprise, we hit it off, gloriously...we talked stars, 3-D puzzles (I even solved one he carved himself), weed, blow-jobs, family, winter sports, east coast vs west coast, and higher learning...we continued the mindless chitty-chat over a game of pool...and then settled into getting completely ripped while watching "Scary Movie"...yes, my evening concluded in an incredibly hot and heavy make-out session on his bed...I mean, this guy was the best kisser of my life (thus far)...our style and rhythm complimented each other, perfectly...I wasn’t shocked when he paused for a moment, twenty minutes in, and said "it was like we were made to kiss each other" (I know, I know...sounds like a cheesy frat boy pick-up line...but, he already had me where he wanted and you just had to be there to see the sexiness)...I left hours later (because I never stay the night)...we said we’d call each other, but I knew we wouldn’t...
why?
because, all we had was the physical...we liked each other fine, conversed with each other fine, but that "thing" wasn’t there...so, being the mature, reasonable young adults we were, we left our relationship to the occasional mind-blowing bumpus when we’d unexpectedly smack into each other out and about...and then bitch later about how great a dating relationship would be if we weren’t so incompatible...

conversely...

there was Jason...I swear we were cut from the same cloth...we met at a mutual friend’s beach party...he complimented my laugh...I complimented his baby blue "California Raisins doing aerobics" 80s t-shirt...we drank a shitload of Pabst and proclaimed our love for waffles and push-ups...a few weeks later we met again for the never-ending night of bar-hopping and silliness...we had a lollipop deep-throating contest, he sniffed my bra which I proved could be removed (publicly) without wrinkling my t-shirt, we bonded over children and music and finished our conversation in a 24hr mexican restaurant tucked neatly into a hole in the wall (he ordered in perfect spanish for the both of us)...no, my night ended with him asleep on my living room floor (with the rest of our weekend roommates) wrapped in my purple down comforter while I was nestled in my bed...the next morning he sat with the roomies through the Saturday hang-over ritual of Old School and re-enactments of the previous night’s adventures...I drove him home and we listened to oldies so we could sing aloud to every song...when he got out he said "we should have made-out the first night we met...now, I feel like you’re the best friend I never knew I had"...I agreed...zero sexual tension...which sucked, because he was the first guy my brother has ever approved of...

so, what is it, folks???

pheromones, maybe???

a little, I think...awhile ago, one of my best buddies confided in me about the problem he was having with a girl he had just started dating...they craved each other’s company constantly...she was smart and witty and tons o’ fun...he found her beautiful and sexy with a dash of innocence...soon, they progressed past the kissing portion of the courting...and he admitted she gave him the best blow job of his life (trust me, he’s got a sizable random sampling)...but, when he returned the favor, he found her flavor disgusting...to the point where he thought he’d be sick (the kid loves to eat pussy, so that was not the issue)...he gave it a few more shots, even after a shower to ensure it wasn’t a hygiene problem...nope, she just tasted gross to his pallet...he eventually broke it off...

now, I’ve never encountered a rank cock...in fact, I’ve anticipated the worst but ended up pleasantly surprised...but, I do understand the whole "smells" and "tastes" tactility...my ex and I have the same sweat odor (weird but true)...I once kissed a boy with the sweetest mouth (and not because he’d been sippin’ on Kool-Aid)...and, this is truly bizarre, but it works like love potion No.9, if you stick your finger up your cooch and then swipe behind your ears, the boys come sniffing, quickly (I’m telling you, my perversions run strong and deep, just how I like my men)...

or, maybe, it’s all cerebral...

we’re trying to find the younger carbon copy (or antithesis...depending on your childhood psychosis) of our parents...I know I’m physically attracted to guys with the same coloring as my father...and, more importantly, a lot of similar personality traits...perhaps, I’m desperately waiting for "I,19" but they just called "I,20"...

who knows...

all I do know is that when it clicks I’ll hear it...but, until then, I’m not gonna settle for nuttin’...

dip me in honey and feed me to lesbians

2005-03-02T00:00:00.000-06:00

why do we love lesbians???

aside from myself and gay males, nobody likes watching two guys get it on...
two (or maybe even four) lovely ladies is quite another thing...
I know plenty of women that are willing to sit through a porn of fellow pussy posse members licking labia, nibbling nipples, caressing clits and sharing deep passionate tongue kisses...

as many of you know, my favorite porn is lesbian...preferably with strap-ons...and "real" orgasms (you can usually tell by the fact very few women can maintain bodily control while peaking...there is always something that ends up twitching, convulsing, jerking or gushing...FYI it’s harder to find the real deal than you think)

how much do I love lesbian porn???

enough to cum with NO physical stimulation...

impossible you say???

so thought my ex until he witnessed it for himself (we were watching a steamy sex scene between two girls with huge fake tits, pierced hoods and ripped fishnets...ohhh, I like it...I like it a lot)

now
...why???

je ne sais pas...I’d rather have sex with a man than a woman, any day at any second...I like the male physique more than the female form (being soft and smooth, I want it hard and rough)...making a man cum is sooo much more satisfying (when ya' get into the nitty-gritty of it)...and I get along with boys far better than most girls (not 'cause I’m a hater...I just love the simplicity and mellowness of men)
I could venture a guess and say it’s because I grew up surrounded by males...so my first exposure to nakedness and dirty sexiness was centered around females...and, we all know that straight sex films still zoom in on boobies and vaginas more than penis and balls (which is why I like jerking porn, too)...I can understand why...men don’t need gratuitous close-ups of another stud’s cock...

but, why do you boys go bonkers for beautiful bouncing nymphs???

I know you like the "lipstick lesbian", so obviously there is an element of pure sexual attraction...do you want to change them?...crawl up between them?...is just the pure beauty of the whole scene?...I’ve read all sorts of theories from the "taboo-ness" of it...to the flash of sexual weakness that you could easily dominate...

but, even more than why, I want to know how you’ve all seemed to develop the same fantasy...when us ladies are alone (possibly extremely intoxicated) we seem to always shed our constrictive clothing and love each other in sensual bliss...

not exactly what happens, boys...

I remember the first time I "fucked up" trying to pass as a lesbian...I couldn’t shake this asshole (with a wedding ring...prick!) off my back so I turned to him and told him I liked women not men and he had no chance of getting anywhere with me...in a moment of pure stupidity (hey, we’re all naive at some point), I thought grabbing one of my girl friends for a quick make-out session would "prove" I was a dyke (I was also relying on the fact my tats were exposed and I was dressed especially boyish)...wrong fucking idea...he went berserk and my evening ended with my girl and me punching and kicking him out of our cab...

now, I’m devious and fuck with the boys (just a skoesh, though)...

example:
the other night, during our nightly ritual of after-work drinking, my female companion brought up the horror of shopping at Victoria’s Secret during their semi-annual sale (for all those who want to witness the true predator innate in the female shopper, check it out sometime...panties and bras strewn everywhere and not in a women’s-underwear-on-my-bedroom-floor way but rather a the-first-time-you-learned-women-were-slobs way)...she then asked me if I’d ever been "measured" (I was the only other chickadee...and we had two boys with us)...yes, I’ve been "measured"...I’m a lingerie store’s wet-dream...big tits require expensive bras (if you want to be comfortable and cute)...one of the boys was confused by "measuring"...so, I explained the process of having your chest and rib-cage "sized" with tape (it’s all very technical, you see)...he seemed very infatuated with the concept and asked if one gets "measured" topless and naked...now, trying to be a wise-ass, I answered yes...and not only does the sexy, suit-wearing sales associate stand in my fitting room, sliding her measuring tape around my full breasts, accidently brushing my nipples while "measuring" the buxom twins, but then I turn to her, pop her shirt buttons open and offer to return the favor...moments later, we’re giggling and "measuring" and fondling (I thought the facetious tone was obvious)...his eyes lit up...
"and then you tell her you just learned a new kissing technique and ask her if it would be ok if you practiced it with her!" he finished the story...

we all started laughing but I knew the visual was very welcome in his head...

oh, you boys...

what is it with lesbians???

lost and found

2005-03-01T23:09:00.000-06:00

so, awhile back, I wrote of my brother's drunken hook-up...a night of headboard banging, booty-making romptastics...and the abrupt departure of his female fun-bag...
she left her license in her haste...

rinse and repeat!!!

another girl...same results...only this time she got pissed on...yes, my brother suffers from urinisis (I keep insisting it's alcoholism)...and, in her abrupt departure, she left a fake pearl earring (I had to confirm it for him, just to be sure it wasn't valuable)...

"Maybe she's pulling a Costanza (Seinfeld buffs will comprehend)...these girls are leaving excuses to come back!"

my roommate's response:
"I definitely disagree...these girls are just trying to get the fuck outta here and they keeping leaving shit because they're hauling ass so fast!"

dear Osama Bin Laden...

2005-03-01T16:28:00.000-06:00

can I tell you how lucky I am?
I love many, many things in my life...

one being my job...why?
because it is not work to me...time breezes by (I don't even wear a watch)...most importantly, we are a big happy fucking family (this does mean we snip and snap sometimes, but it is out of caring concern)

today was one of those days where I can't imagine spending my time earning money any other way...

one of the manager's GF baked us cupcakes (nothing like a 7am sugar high)...and we watched the news instead of listening to our music (the reason being I wanted to check out the promotion for Hud's improv comedy show)...but, afterwards, we decided we needed to do it more often

of course, most every reported topic was depressing and somber (because daily reminders of how cruel the world can be sells more than birth announcements for puppies and kittens)

*ok, the following statements may offend some of you and smash the rose colored glasses that you wear while reading my blog...I'm sorry in advance...and I do not condone the loss of innocent lives...at all (and I want to make clear this would be victimless)...my humor can be extremely dark and biting, my apologies*

continuing...

there was a report about Osama Bin Laden soliciting the help of Abu Musab al-Zarqawi to organize terrorist attacks on the US (on our own turf or anywhere else outside of Iraq)
here's an article
the broadcast used clips from Osama's website as the anchor read the report
my wheels started turning and grinding
"So, do you think Osama would take requests? I mean...do you think I can go on his site and make a list of what structures I want demolished? I say we take back terrorism and use it for our benefit...of course, I'd want no fatalities and he could get the satisfaction of watching disgusting American corporate icons crumble to mother earth" (can you tell Loki and Bartleby have rubbed off from too many viewings of Dogma?)
"I'm gonna vote for McDonald's first...especially international locations"
"I say get rid of EuroDisney" one co-worker
"And definitely the Banana Republic they're opening in Tokyo" another one interjected
"I hate those AMC multiplex movie theaters"
"Don't forget the evil empire of WalMart!"

the list continued...and I began to realize everything outside eyes viewed as excessive in our nation, we did, too...

but, I'm not gonna leave this post on a sour, psycho note...

I'm gonna list random thoughts and bits of conversation that made me smile all day...

I love sassy little old men who flirt
looking at the term "male box" makes me laugh more than it should
I take being told I talk like a frat boy as a compliment
if I were a DJ I would insert whistles, whip cracks and clapping excessively in my tracks
it's sexy when a cowboy tips his hat and says "ma'am"
it would be great to add an element of danger to our job by wrastling customers to the ground before they bite you
next time somebody calls me out on ignoring them (only because I'm going deaf...not because I'm mean) I will reply "I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention...you weren't telling me how pretty I am"
I will never laugh harder than when you mimic me or rip me a new asshole

don't worry...I got this morbid shit out of my system...sex and silliness are creeping back in...

son, this is what happens when you fuck a stranger up the ass!!!

2005-02-27T20:10:00.000-06:00

prerequisite:

(go see it if you haven’t)

song: “Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In)” Kenny Rogers & The First Edition

the following story is true...without embellishments...

Thursday night I was feeling frisky and decided to call my friend Nick to see if he wanted to grab some beers and go shoot some pool after work...my friend, Heather, overheard us making plans and asked if she could tag along, too...

My quote to them, “Let’s go someplace chill where we won’t have to fight for pool time...I really just want a mellow, dive-bar evening”

(side note: any and every time I verbalize such statements I conjure a demon from the outer ring of hell who perches on my shoulder to whisper devious ideas in my ear and manipulate the people around me like marionettes with his invisible hand)

By 11pm, we decided to meet at a bowling alley instead because Heather likes bowling more than pool
(see?...first wrong turn!)

and, it was crowded
(the stage is being set)

Nick got there first...I was right on his tail...so we ordered a pitcher of Blue Moon with orange wedges (because Nick was feeling a cold coming on and “needed” some vitamin C...this kid always manages to vindicate his bad behavior)...sat at the bar, smoked some cigarettes and waited for Heather...

“Uh-oh...I know that guy” Nick moves in close as a hipster boy brushes past us “he and his friends are fucking crazy!”
“Why? What happened?” I love Nick stories...he attracts trouble like me
(why didn’t I see this evening’s adventure coming?)
“Well, I was at Mike’s bar one night and that guy walks up to me and tells me his girl friend thinks I’m hot and wants to hook-up with me...”

quick interjection: my friend is an extremely beautiful male that woman have no problems attacking...

“So, he tells me to go up to her and dump my beer on her because she likes guys that treat her like shit...who does that? I would never say that about one of my girl friends!”
I just shook my head “Maybe he thought that was your thing and the playa in you would respond to it.”
“Oh, shit...oh, shit! That’s her!!!”

I look up to see a pretty girl slink towards us. She was “street hot” with tight jeans and a white tank top and long black hair, wild and unkept.

“Oh my god! You’re here!” she throws her arms around his neck and pushes her pelvis into his groin “Tonight is my birthday and my friends are throwing me a party here! Do you want me to buy you a drink?” She steps back and looks up at him from under her lids as her hands gather her wild hair in a mound at the top of her head...

one side of flamin’ hot badussy, coming up...

“No, that’s cool...we just bought a pitcher”
I started giggle hysterically...poor, poor Nick...she climbs back on top of him and whispers something in his ear...I already know the question...it has been asked a million times before...am I Nick’s girlfriend?...oh, if they only knew...our friendship is better than that...besides, I know his GF...
another girl walks up to me...obviously the bestest girly friend running interference... “Your friend looks like that guy on the show Entourage”

“Yeah, I know...he gets that all the time” I’m trying to sound polite and interested...biting my tongue...I just want to say that Nick and I aren’t stupid....this scenario has been played out before...you don’t need to kiss my ass to get near him...and nothing you say will make him fall in love with you...your chances flew out the door the minute you started gnawing at him like a nice, tender piece of NY strip...

I was relieved when Heather walked up...saving me...
“Hey guys, ready to bowl?” the roaches scattered, now that the odds were in our favor
“What was that about? More girls hitting on Nick?” Heather has witnessed the ridiculousness before, too...that’s why we get along...silly girls are silly and we have better things to be doing than fluttering around our guys trying to turn them on...
we grab our shoes, a lane, and a few more pitchers...it was on
the first game was serious and I ended with a strike on the last frame (damn straight!)
the next two disintegrated into a drunken haze of sliding around the lane to “Jungle Boogie” (love the traction of bowling shoes), free-style bowling (Nick’s got this killer move where he manages to bowl between the legs backwards at 20mph and I’ve got this sweeping wind-up that made Heather flinch and duck) and crazy, theoretical conversations (example: Nick’s strategy on protecting his virgin brown-eye in prison is to never wash his asshole...ever)

I leave for the bathroom...and when I come back, our sex kitten is back, digging her claws into Nick...
“Oh, hi!” She turns, surprised to see me, “you guys all look like celebrities! He looks like Entourage-guy, she looks like Penelope Cruz (Heather) and you look like Kelly Bundy with brown hair!”
“Do you mean Kelly Bundy or Christina Applegate?” I catch Nick rolling his eyes at me as I ask her the question
She pushes her face up into mine, “Kelly Bundy!”
Random...I’m not a stone fox or exotically beautiful but I definitely got the “cute” look ...so, maybe she was trying to say that...but, I dress like a boy not an 80s big hair band groupie...my conclusion, she was not being flattering...
“You’re pretty, too” I’m so f-ing diplomatic, “you look like Juliette Lewis!”
“Thanks” and she runs off again...
Only to return a few minutes later...with a carpet bag full of Jagermeister bottles and a carton of Camels...
“Look at all my birthday presents, Kelly” she seemed like a fourteen year old trying to win the approval of her cooler, older cousin
“I like the Jager...that’s my favorite shot” why was I playing into her shenanigans?

I was up at bowl...and as I snatched my ball, I could hear her ask Nick, again, if he was sure Kelly wasn’t his girlfriend...her open legs, straddled across his lap, suggested she didn’t give a shit, anyways...
Nick was getting frustrated and annoyed “Listen, I’m up!” He tried to slide her off his legs with some grace...
She hopped up and grabbed his cock, “Doesn’t feel like you're up...”
Heather was on the phone with her BF and I decided it would be a good time to cut out to the little girl’s room...my peanut bladder was fucked...I’d broken the seal...
When I came out, turbo slut was gone...
“Where’s our pretty princess?”
“Some black guy came by, picked her up and literally carried her out of here...” Heather and Nick answered in unison
“She wants us to meet her at Neo” Nick added
“The goth bar? I wouldn’t take that place to be her cup of tea!”
“It’s 80s night, tonight” Heather answered as she got back on the phone, apologizing to her BF...we weren’t supposed to be out this late
“Fuck that! I’m going home” I started to gather my shit and realized my cell phone was gone!
“Where the hell is my phone? It was right here when I left!”
“Are you sure?” Nick and Heather started checking bags, jacket pockets and the floor
“Did you drop it in the bathroom?” Heather started looking concerned
“No, I had just called Mike...it was out when I took a piss! That thieving whore! She ganked my phone!”
“We didn’t see her take it...are you sure? Why would she do that?” Nick looked at me confused
“I don’t know...to get your number...she thought it was yours...she wants us to follow her...I really don’t give a fuck why...I want my gosh darn phone back...it’s got numbers I can never get again (white lie...I could eventually get them, but it would be a royal pain in the ass)...and, I don’t have a home phone!”

One of the bowling alley employees with florescent ink accenting the sleeves on his arms had been eavesdropping “Do you want me to check the lost and found?”
“You can if you want but that bitch has my phone...I just know it!”

Fuck! Piss! Shit!

I’d been scoping this guy all night...thinking about how cute he was, and now my opportunity to spark a little flirt action was tainted by anger...I’m not a pretty girl when I get pissed...forget putting this tart over my knee...I’m gonna beat her shit down...she was beginning to ruin my life!

We made our way to the parking lot...Heather said good-bye because she had to pacify her BF...Nick and I looked at each other...
“I’m gonna drop my car at home and we’re gonna do this...do you mind driving, honey?”
“No...let’s get your phone.”

The drive was quick and exhilarating...my adrenaline had killed the beer buzz, but it felt awesome...Nick pumped heavy, underground hip-hop as we raced towards Neo...

“I’m out of cash...can we stop at an ATM so I can pay the cover?”
Nick pulled up next to my bank...as I inserted my debit card to unlock the foyer, I noticed an old homeless couple curled up together in the alcove, blocking one of the machines...I wondered how they had snuck in there and nobody had called the police...then I looked more closely to see twenty dollar bills littered between them...
“Hey!” I lightly tapped the man’s foot with mine “Hey, dude...hey, get up!”
He shifted about and then sat up, groggy “what?”
“Hey, your money is laying out...and people come in here to get money...so you might want to hide your stash”
He looked down at the bills, perplexed...I’m sure they had been left there by various generous drunks “Look, sweetie” he tapped his female companion
“What?” she popped awake quickly “oh my...we better put that away!”
She looked up at me “You’re so nice! What time is it?”
“Well, let’s look at this receipt, since my fucking phone was stolen...it’s a little after 2am...you’ve got time.” They smiled at me and went back to spooning each other.

I climbed back into the car...

“Check it out, Nick...there is a homeless couple sleeping in there...they had, like, $100 in twenties thrown on them! They’re so fucking smart! Not only are they warm but they’re hitting up the drunk people for cash by looking so cute!”
“Did you take their money?”
“No!” a lot of my friends don’t have my empathy for the homeless...maybe it’s because I’ve been there, “they’re homeless, you asshole!”

We parked...and walked towards Neo...discussing the game plan...I would hang back, out of sight, while Nick worked his charm on her...all he would have to do is look into her eyes to see if she had my phone...

“Oh shit” Nick grabs my arm “some of her friends are across the street! They saw us!”
I looked to see half the birthday party...perfectly parallel to our strides...
“Let’s definitely check Neo out! You know...this is the first time I’ve ever been in there” I haven’t been in any sort of goth scene since the 6th grade...

We entered and split...Nick to peruse the club, me to the bathroom...it was your typical dark, gross, low-rent bar bathroom...all three stalls were closed...so, I waited...and listened to someone’s ass explode and a rotten-food smell permeate the air...I started to smile, secretly...the toilet flushed and suddenly two poofy pigtails of kinky white hair appeared over the stall...the door opened and out walked a 6'4", 250lb man dressed in suspenders, button down t-shirt, long skinny tie and 3/4 cut-off pants...poodle clown, nice...
“They let boys in the girls’ room here” he sounded defensive...I must have been giving him an odd look...I burst into my belly laughter and looked at the girl behind me in line...
“You can go in there, if you want...’cause I’m sure as shit not!” dick and fart jokes crack me up, but I get a little gaggy when faced with the threat of being locked in a confined space, old stale fart swirling around me and a warm toilet seat... “I’ve got some matches if you want them, sweetie”

I made it back to the bar...Nick bought me a beer and gave me an update...
“OK, they aren’t here...I don’t think her friends from the street are here, either...let’s drink this and give it a few more minutes...”

A drag queen approached us, lip-synching the lyrics to the song...poodle clown stood next to her and smiled at me...I forgot about the phone for a second...

“Mike’s meeting us here...you stay and look for him...I’m gonna check the dance floor, again” Nick left me at my stool, suckling my beer, trying to climb inside b-day hussy’s head...what would I do? what would I do? she’s obviously in the neighborhood...where would I go?

I spotted Mike and filled him in on the details...

“Yeah, I tried calling you back, but you never answered” Mike is one of my best friends, ever, and has this selfless caring quality you rarely find in people today...
“They’re still not here” Nick was back with the status of our hunt, “I swear they ditched out when they saw us coming!”
“They went to Ravens!” It was three doors down and the perfect place to hide...except from us because it is our after-work bar and we know the entire staff...I felt my chest get puffy with confidence...try and fuck with us on our turf, beotch!

The three of us walked into Ravens and, sure enough, jizzy jezebel was crawling all over the local boys...Nick walked up to her...the look of shock was satisfying...Mike and I watched a fight erupt between the birthday party and the regulars...the bartender and bouncer tried to handle 6 guys by themselves...three ended up getting tossed...

Nick came back “Well, the story went from to ‘your friend lost her phone?’ to ‘maybe, I have her phone’ to ‘I have it but it is in my bag at home’...she wants me to pick it up tomorrow”
“So, she has my phone?” the antics were getting me to boil
“I think so...she’s so drunk, I don’t know if she knows”
“That’s it...I’m speaking with her!” I would not be leaving the bar without some answers

I walked up to her and grabbed her shoulder

“Kelly Bundy! You’re here!” she turned from the emo boy she was speaking with to give me a hug...softening my temper...but just a smidge
“Yeah, princess...where is my phone?”
“I don’t know...your friend asked me already”
“Are you sure you didn’t take it by MISTAKE?”
“She doesn’t have it!” little man piped up “she’s my girlfriend and we’re trying to get out of here”

HALT!

back that double wide up...

did he just say “girlfriend”?

Okaay, he’s a pretty laid back BF to not give a shit that she was dry humping my friend earlier...

“Yeah, I don’t think I have it” she opened her purse and we both looked inside...her phone was very similar to mine...maybe she did just grab it by mistake...
“Where’s your other bag with the birthday presents?”
“Oh, it’s at my house...I live on State Street...far from here! Why don’t I give you my phone number?”
We walked over to the bar, grabbed some napkins and started exchanging info...I pimped out Nick by giving her his cell phone number...I was getting desperate...

I left her to go back to Mike and Nick....Mike had started a conversation with the “black guy” (Alex) that had grabbed our hoochie mama from the bowling alley...turned out Mike knew him and introduced us...Mike then explained my predicament...
“So, Alex...Bou is one of my good, personal friends and she just wants her phone back...your friend has it”
“Where do you think it is?” Alex turned to me...omg, someone was finally listening...
“In the big bag with her birthday presents”
“Oh, cool, that’s in her boyfriend’s car...it’s parked right up the street”

WHAT THE FUCK!!! CAR UP THE STREET!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!!

Alex led Mike and me outside to where half the party was waiting for their b-day girl (turns out she was writing out all her address info for Nick to come by and pick up my phone the next day)
Alex walked up to her boyfriend “Hey, give me the car keys”
“Why?”
“Because Gina took this girl’s phone and it’s in the car...we’re gonna get it”
“This phone?” magically, Gina’s BF pulled my cell phone from his pocket

THEY KNEW THEY HAD IT THE WHOLE TIME!!!

did I punch him?

did I spit on him?

did I cut him?

No...

I hugged him...rapid tight grabs interrupted with squealing “thank you”s and excited bouncing...yeah, I’m a fucking goober...I wanted my phone and I got it back...no need for anything more...I think everyone was a little taken a back by my reaction and suddenly there was a round of “sorry”s from the enemy line...they walked off to Neo...I turned to my boys...

“I need a fucking beer...you guys in?...I’m buying”

we went back into Ravens...the bartender, Alex (same name different dude), came up and asked us what the drama had been about...
“I just wanted that crew out of my bar...last night’s crowd was good...tonight’s was trouble...just wanted Thursday night to be like Wednesday night...next time, sweetie, any problems you come to me directly and I’ll taking care of it...first round is on me”

sweet!

we saddled up to the bar

“I just realized that you are seriously one of my best friends” Nick smiled down at me...I was speechless for a second...
“Awwwhhh, I love you guys, too! And you know that’s a big deal to me!” I can’t remember the last time I felt that satisfied in a given moment
Nick looked over at me

“Dude, we’re so Lebowski!”

we clinked glasses and took a swill

UPDATE:
Apparently in all the negotiating, Nick had promised to take our drunk Gina out for lunch if I got my phone back...well, she called him this weekend, trying to set-up a date (hmm, I think she might have been a little more sober than she played)...Nick says he’ll just wait until the next time we see them out to steal their shit and ditch it in a dumpster...

I wasn't supposed to be on here, but the alcohol made me do it...I swear!!!

2005-02-24T14:02:00.000-06:00

tonight's the night we're gonna make it happen!!!
I want to love you
to feel you
wrap myself around you
I want to squeeze you
please you
I just can't get enough
and if you move real slow
just let go
I'm so excited...I just can't hide it
I want you, I want you!!!

I fucking cheated...but I had to share because I'm bursting!!! I'm so happy because I've done the best thing ever!!! Back in this entry I alluded to the nasty sex dream I had about my bestest gf's crush...
so, what did I do? I got them talking about each other and, more importantly, drinking together tonight...and a spark of interest!!!
I've already got three marriages under my belt...what's one more?

with skills like this I should start my own business!!!

vacation time

2005-02-24T13:49:00.000-06:00

for those of you who actually give a shit...I'll be leaving the pooter this weekend to read, watch A vs P (which reminds me of DADV every time I say it aloud), work, clean my car, drink and cause some trouble...

is our children getting a good edumacation???

2005-02-24T02:40:00.000-06:00

terrorist
adj : characteristic of someone who employs terrorism (especially as a political weapon); "terrorist activity"; "terrorist state" n : a radical who employs terror as a political weapon; usually organizes with other terrorists in small cells; often uses religion as a cover for terrorist activities

so, the other day a co-worker asked who I thought was worse: Osama Bin Laden or Saddam Hussein?

I couldn't give him a straight answer...
"I think the American people suffer under the Bush administration and the central government as a whole"

his reply
"Yes, but these men have gassed their own people, physically threatened them, killed indiscriminately or abused the innocent."

I agree.

We definitely don't have it hard here by comparison...hell, before 9/11, I felt America had no concept of the possibilities that exist out there...in the rest of the world...I'd been "lucky" enough to have parents that enjoyed exposing me and my siblings to various cultures...I've witnessed my mother's camera being snatched from her hands and the film ripped out by a soldier with an automatic weapon in a Chinese airport...a rioting mob fighting a group of supporters with signs during a presidential election in the Dominican Republic...perplexed by the sealed trash-cans and surrendering my bag to soldiers for random inspections on the Metro in France...watched the Irish residents of Belfast collect scraps of wood, cloth, and anything else flammable in a huge vacant lot in preparation for the Orange Parade, drank a pint in the most bombed pub in the world and stayed in a youth hostel where exactly 1/2 of the curb was painted orange and green in contrast to the other side which was red, white and blue...I became somewhat "globally" street-smart and when asked by my father what I would do if a gun fight erupted between the crowd and militia, I said "get behind the guy with the biggest gun and hit the deck" (I think it's rather clever for an 11 year old)

but, to use the analogy that abandons most of my friends, it's not the size of the knife that matters but the severity of the wound...and, I feel a lot of the time, people are too occupied with comparing a machete to a switchblade and forgetting about the victim, bleeding and hurting and feeling pain (and we ALL know what that is like)...

and I'm not even going to imply that I can fathom what it would be like to have the freedoms of an Arabic woman, but I will say I understand the feeling of being a voiceless member of a society that has a "higher power" making life changing decisions for me...

I feel Americans are part of the biggest snow-job in history, exercised by those with power...and, in an odd, twisted train of thought, I'd rather have a rapist tackle me in a dark alley than be slipped a roofy in a glitzy nightclub...

I suffer from that huge conspiracy theory "thing"...maybe one too many X-Files episodes in my youth...or, maybe, it is witnessing my father (who just retired as an economist for the federal government) get notification of his trip to Iraq to help rebuild the central bank TWO WEEKS after the war started...hmmm, I don't believe we had completely "won" yet, but apparently we were ready to "Americanize" the backbone...
I don't take prescribed medications...not even birth control...and I have this crazy theory about the direct correlation between the incidents of diseases (cancer, MS, alzheimer's, etc) and our consumption of artificial additives (dyes, flavorings, preservatives, hormones, etc)...I remember when olestra was first being tested and my father gave me the report of their "trial runs"...an entire meal had been prepared with olestra substituting for every fat product in the dishes...some test subjects had such bad explosive diarrhea that they couldn't make it to the bathroom in time...yeah, I want some of that in my body...
social security...I'm seriously thinking that under the matress would be better or maybe relocating to another country...
Remember the whole health care debate? I read article upon article of the arguments between the insurance lobbyists and the pharmaceutical companies...ummm, where was the public's voice? Aren't we talking about MY health?

WE DO NOT LIVE IN A DEMOCRATIC NATION...I believe the term is called a republic...remember when you read about the Confederacy in school? That is when the states had more power than the central government, then we had rebellions and economic problems and realized the only way to successfully move past English rule was to create our own unified nation, so some guys wrote a constitution giving power back to the central government and the scales have been tipping further and further in that direction with every policy and federally funded agenda...I don't believe that is a democracy (at least not the meaning you get from the word's roots)
which moves us to my favorite subject...education and that fucking No Child Left Behind law...while I'm not in education, my mother is and so are a sizable portion of my friends...they all teach high school, so I haven't heard the horror stories from the elementary level...

I see the beginning of federally created curriculums and flashes of faceless children in matching uniforms (I know most of you listened to Pink Floyd at some point)...I see the birth of a nation where the citizens work 50 hr a week, drive their gas guzzling esuvee to a 24 hr Walgreens to pick up their $80 prescription of insert-your-fav-here (zoloft, wellbutrin, viagra, seasonale) and then off to their cookie-cutter condo...where mom heats up an instant dinner in the microwave instead of using her six burner stove range and dad is chewing Nicorette gum while looking up gay porn on his wireless laptop and princess is in her room watching MTV gaining dating tips from Room Raiders, proper human interactions from Real World and wishing her income bracket was one level higher so she could have her own Sweet Sixteen party and junior is in his room developing killer fine motor skills with his PS2 and fantasizing about the next time he grabs a smoke and sneaks his dad's gun outside for some target practice on small furry animals...

but, maybe I was just taking this...

a little too seriously...

I need to take some time off from this thing, clean up my life, get drunk, shoot some pool with my friends and move past this morbid 'tude...

I'm here about the blow-job

2005-02-23T08:29:00.000-06:00

last spring the house next door to mine was torn down...it provided early morning wake-up calls...constant dust sifting through my screens...and a rank perfume from the port-a-potty under my window...overall, it was a headache.

until one hot, sticky summer day I walked out my front door to find twenty half-naked men crawling around the wooden frame...hard at work...young, strong bodies with torn jeans and worn boots...browned skin smeared with dirt and glistening with sweat...in the next instant, I was on my cell phone, calling my bestest girly...

"You've got to get over to my fucking house, NOW!"
"Why?"
"We're gonna make a huge pitcher of lemonade..."

"What! Why?"
"There are hot, naked men working in this god-awful heat and they look extremely thirsty"
"Where?"
"They're building a house next door"
"Are you sure they're hot? Construction guys can be gross and old!"
"I know, but these guys are young and ripped and none of them are wearing shirts...so, put on a mini skirt and wear some fuck-me pumps that will look fabulous behind your ears and get over here!"

(I call them "the farmer's daughter" and they do wonders for the calves)

of course, I was joking...half-way...

later that week, while preparing for a grand opening of the newest store in our district, one of our gay boyfriends analyzed how lucky we were to have our particular careers...one of the bullet points he listed was the amazingly beautiful industrial designers who work out of our home office and build/assemble the fixtures in our stores...I agreed and began telling him the fantasy of my construction site gang-bang...a couple of beers later, we had scripted an entire porn...

voila...

scene #1: the interview

"Hello, my name is Boubies and I'm here to apply for the job listed in the paper..."

"I'm a great candidate for the position because of my unwavering work ethic and stamina. I'll do what it takes to get the project off the ground and erected. I also come prepared."

"My measurements are always well calculated and precise...ummm, let's see...about thirteen inches...this is a niece piece of wood you have here!...I've worked with various grades of lumber from white birch to mahogany."

"My resume is long, well versed and impeccable. I started as the assistant to a municipal inspector. I accompanied him to sites where he taught me the logistics behind performing proper open hole and nail inspections. But, my main area of expertise is stud framing."

"I've been doing this for years. It's almost like a drill is an extension of my hand. And, I know the ABCs of hardware from screws to nuts."

"You know...I've handled a jackhammer before, too."

"I want you to view me as an asset to your team...I'm willing to bend over any which way to meet deadlines."

"Hmm...what else...oh! I'm proficient with flashing and..."

"...I know how to use a caulking gun!"

you just don't get it...I wish polyamory was the new bisexuality...

2005-02-22T18:31:00.000-06:00

Look...I just found this!!!

I'm a little frustrated with it...

Bloggers have been linking to my site through this guy (my traffic doubled in one day)...

Of course, no comments allowed there...which is too bad, because I really wanted to tell him that the point of my blog took off and flew over his head so fast he thought he'd try and catch the gist in the jet stream...

My "protest" is not to my "pedigree and Boston upbringing" (which he compared to someone from Plano, TX...I wonder if he has ever been there, because it isn't very different from insert-my-suburb, MA...socially or economically)...I want to embrace my background (I believe I'm grappling with an internal struggle here, but I'm not deep enough to know for sure)...my "protest" is to being raised by men and never developing that soft, supple feminine mystique...I don't have "anonymous sex" (I know all their names and never a one night stand...though, we might have fucked the first night we met)...my struggle is to be "normal"...to bat my eyelashes and giggle and play puppy...to listen to Maroon 5 on repeat and cuddle myself...I want to be that fake-lesbian sorority sister that flashes her sexuality to attract horny, frat boys, whom she will fall in love with by morning (by the way, all you have to do is walk into any Greek house and ask "which one of you is gonna stick your dick in me tonight?" to get laid)..."kissing" isn't too intimate for me (we are approaching my point, so heads-fucking-up!!!)...learning to commit yourself to someone completely and unconditionally is intimate (and THAT is what I have problems with)...and my outlook doesn't attract the boys, silly...but, maybe it didn't translate into French very well...

got any stamps???

2005-02-21T22:04:00.000-06:00

crazy candy flip
acid drip
tingling "body-high" trip
lick my lip
slight tongue slip
puffy fingertip
frosty nip
reality torn with a rip
sluggish thoughts cracked by a whip
hop, jump, hop, jump, hop, jump and skip
booty shakin', body achin',
crankin' straight from the hip
guzzling, gargling, sucking
starting with a sip
lipstick stained dick

freshman year of college my friend Dave gave me two things...
a small piece of tin foil containing heroin
and copy of "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas"
a door openned that I'd never even seen before

ahhh, I'm suffocating...I need some ventilation

2005-02-20T21:27:00.000-06:00

Arghhhh!!!

I want to give up!!!

This blog is supposed to be my silly outlet, my deep sexual confessions, my escape from "real-life"...

But, as usual, the frustrated, tired, perplexed side of my personality is slipping through...I don't like it, but here it is...laid out...do what you will with it...

Dumb...

and dumber...

If you want to meet someone who thinks like a woman, become a lesbian...

A lot of you are lonely out there (not restricted to blog world)...and one of the defining purposes of "life" has been to find that someone that will fill your life, needs, thoughts, fantasies, bed...some find it with a sexual partner...some with their children...

This past week has been one fucking ridiculous relationship situation after another, shoved in my face to analyze or critique...v-day's ripple effect...and, I still don't know why my friends decided I'm the resident "shrink"...I'm under-qualified, totally mystified and completely not justified in providing any sort of answer...

Ahhh, we move slowly towards the deep dark secret of my celibacy...my hidden deviance that I nurse and tuck away in my tower like a retarded bastard child...

I'm an unemotional, poly-amorous nympho...

I don't know why...I could never figure it out...I didn't have an uncle that touched me too much...I've never been date raped....I'm not insecure...my papa and I have a wonderful relationship...sorry, I just don't fit into any Freudian stereotype or Jungian archetype...

The best illustration is my last relationship with my ex...I wasn't "into" him when we first met and we lived together for four months before we even kissed...even after we started sleeping together, I explained to him it takes a long time for someone to "get under my skin"...which, I feel makes perfect sense....

How the fuck do you really even know someone even after, let us say, six months???

YGWIN so eloquently pointed out the "isms" that make us who we are...and, as I tried to explain in my entry dedicated to these lovelorn, crazy friends of mine, unconditional love accommodates the eccentricities without ifs, ands, or buts...

So, back to my story...we eventually did fall in love...our friends were jealous and said we were lucky to find each other...yes, we were...
but, more than for the mere fact of finding "true love"...we approached relationships with the same attitude:
I love you, you love me, we know this...but, we want and will have sex with other people
we lived together for three years like this...we had separate bedrooms...separate friends...separate lives...and supported each other completely (emotionally)

I look at my parents and freak out...sex does not equal love for me...and I don't think I can do it

yet, societal judgments and restrictions have led me to the lifestyle where I try and "medicate" myself with abstinence...

I'd like to learn to have one husband...and kids...and that white-picket fence...and the grass to mow...and the hedges to clip...and the four-door sedan to drive to and from soccer practices with giant zip-loc bags of orange wedges...and the chrome kitchen with a double-door fridge where I bake ice cream cone cupcakes for my sons birthday...and a garage full of bikes with training wheels, nerf balls and a bocce set...and a sandbox in the backyard with a swing set that sits in the shade of the treehouse all while I work my corporate job in the city.

But, my wanderlust gets the better of me and I dream of driving across America in a black 1976 Buick LeSabre convertible with a white leather interior...and move to Ireland for a year to work "under the table" in a pub...and snowboard the Swiss Alps...and have passionate sex in a huge corn field under a full moon in France...and move onto Egypt where I'ld lead tours through the pyramids during the day and hide away with bedouins during the nights...and photograph wild animals on safari...and learn to surf off the shores of Hawaii...and sail across the Gulf of Mexico...and sky-dive over Brazil...and hike through Nepalese mountains and...

...live to my fucking fullest and never look back and never think "what is the meaning of my life" because I'm too busy realizing it...
I wish I had the guts!!!

hey everybody, we're all gonna get laid!!!

2005-02-20T10:50:00.000-06:00

so last night I was awakened by loud moaning and hard-thumpin'...eventually followed by the slammin' of the front door...
my brother had brought a girl home from the bar...
I had fallen asleep on one of the living room couches with a friend while watching Boyz in the Hood...

"what is going on?" (my friend, Zo)
"I think my brother just pissed off that girl..."

my brother tried to answer our question...
"I was wing-man for XXXXX, and that girl and I haven't been conversing well all night..." (sounded like they had been "conversing" just fine a few minutes ago)
"so why did you bring her home?" (Zo, in one his many moments of wisdom)
his reply...
"bou, go fuck yourself...zo, go fuck yourself...and (to my roommate asleep in his room), noah, shut the fuck up and go fuck yourself!"

oh, my silly, silly, silly bro...

he's been a problem from the beginning...when we were younger our parents would bring us to the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston...their "yippie" way of exposing us to "culture"...I loved the Egyptian exhibit, the Ancient Asian art exhibit (with all the Buddha statues) and this painting of a naked man being pulled into a row boat as a huge shark with gaping jaw lunged for him...

conversely, my brother loved naked women statues and would fondle their breasts and butts until a security guard would yell at him to stop...and this would happen everytime we would go...

if only I had pictures...I'm sure I could get them posted here...or maybe even here...

yes, the pot is calling the kettle black...I was extremely pissed when the only photo that didn't develop from my vacation to London was the picture of my friend humping a statue of a goat in front of St. Paul's Cathedral...we're all gonna burn in hell...at least we made up for it by taking this one later...

wanna hump???

baby, you can drive my car

2005-02-18T08:34:00.000-06:00

so, guess what I did yesterday???

I went here (with my friend Mike)...

now, why would I go to such a show?
well, growing up in Boston didn't allow me some opportunities (like rodeos, state fairs and auto trade shows)...and while most people from the Midwest hate that kind of shit, I get overly excited for it...

and, like I was explaining to Mike, if I ever had wads of extra cash to blow on anything, I'd buy cars...no need for a big house, cool sound system, expensive furniture, even a bad-ass computer...nope, all I would need is a fat-ass garage for my many modes of transportation...and all my cars would be standard...

let me use my famous analogy (I picked a guy up at a party with this one...years ago):
owning a nice car with automatic transmission is like having the hottest girlfriend out of all your buddies and she's even great in bed, but she can't suck cock to save her life...

trust me, lots of guys find it hot that a girl can drive stick (duh!)

anyways, back to the auto show...
when we walked onto the show room floor, I creamed myself...

(with my "inside" voice)

here's the map of the two floors...

my favorite set-up was Mini Cooper's (of course there are no available photos)

Jeep was a close second, however

they had performance artists dressed as a rock statue and a leaf woman on stilts (kinda random for an auto show)

but, this was the pride and joy of the show...

an all terrain course for people to drive various Jeep autos through...you can't really tell that the "hump" is at a 45 degree angle...the first car I ever "learned" anything on was a CJ7...my friend Jim built his own (including the engine) from used parts...I used to help him...the stupidest/coolest thing we did was strip all the old paint off, sand it and then spray paint it white...it left this matte finish that was oddly sweet...

Mike dragged me to Scion area...I guess they are promoting the "independent" artist lifestyle...we got this free CD (which I'm listening to and it's a pretty good hip-hop mix)...

they were also handing out this magazine...(I've leafed through a lot of it and I'm kind of impressed a car company put something this cool together...I guess I know who they're aiming for)

but, Mike's favorite part of the show were the ladies, on the platforms, next to the rotating cars, dressed in professional suits, head-set mics hidden in their coiffed hair, made up beautifully, and speaking in those sexy "I'm making you think I know what I'm saying" voices...Mike (who is not celibate) told me how great it would be to bend one of them over the hood of her car and fuck her while she tried to get through her memorized presentation...I felt he should provide a real challenge and get her to give him head, spurting out a few lines between every few sucks...how tight would it be to hear some chick gag on your junk over some speakers??? and, in stereo???...we kept going with the fantasy so long it got to the point where we couldn't look at any of them without cracking up (I'm telling you...immaturity thrives within me)

here are some other "cool" things I liked...

the Lincoln chopper...it's a little too stylized, but I like the frame and the wheels...

the International Trucks...they're like mini big rigs...which I've been in because there are truck drivers on my mom's side of the family...

just in case you aren't conceptualizing how big these mother f-ers are...

the life-size Lego Volvo...which had a "Do Not Touch" sign on it, but if there hadn't been a guard next to it, I know I would have run my hands all over it...

lastly, the Drag-U-La from the Monsters...that's a real coffin and wicked awesome...

as we were leaving the show in my ghetto ride (a Chicago cop nicknamed it the Linto), we passed a "speaking" car alarm blaring in the parking lot...
"Is that car saying 'I've been tampered with'?" asked Mike
I started laughing..."Yeah, it is!"
He started laughing, too..."They should have made it scream 'Rape!' instead"

Sherriff, look what I found!!!

2005-02-18T07:55:00.000-06:00

I came upon this in a magazine...fucking weird, right???

Michael Jackson has infiltrated my blog...

2005-02-17T12:25:00.000-06:00

Warning: this one is very serious and somber...I’m sorry, but that’s the mood right now...

Being a dirty, little girl wasn’t easy...

Kitten left me an interesting comment on my last entry...
And I found this article, recently, which affirms my concerns expressed in this old post...
And Mary Kay Letourneau and Vili Faulaau announced their engagement...

(maybe we can blame it on video games...like violence) check out the Super Smash Bros. Melee

But, like I’ve stated before, I understand the young lust a little too well...

again, confessions from my diary...

(excerpt)
physically, I’m also extremely attracted to men. Older men. Not like sixties, but I’ve caught myself looking at men in their early thirties. This may be because of my need to make love, have sex, not grope and grind. I need someone who appreciates the union of bodies as pleasure and expression. Hormonally, males my age are in it for the orgasm. I see sex as the end justifying the means. How you reach that orgasm shouldn’t be fondling and grabbing and hormones. It should be movement, using the whole body, letting desire and pleasure push restrictions away. How I want to make love to a man, so badly. I want a lover so much. Not an affair, not a boyfriend, not a one night stand (although I will probably see those). I want a lover. The pleasure of his body. Oh, I’m so desperate, yet, so trapped. How I wish I was older.

Obviously, in some perverse way, I’m sure many men would have obliged to my perpetually horny fifteen year old desires...
And that’s scary...

I found this while looking through my favorite porn directory...I’m so grossed out I won’t even post any pictures from it...

It did remind me of a confession one of my guy friends told me while we were freshman in college...he met this hot girl, she was totally cool and he really dug her (which was rare because he was very picky about who he was willing to hook-up with)...one night, after drinking for hours at a party, she took him back to her place...when he got to her room, he freaked out...he told me her bed was covered with stuffed animals and dolls (not like one or two but like twenty)...he started making out with her but, at one point, looked up and saw a CareBear staring back at him...he bolted out of the room and never called her again...
Now, this girl was our age, but I found it fascinating that my buddy still couldn’t get past the idea he was corrupting a little girl...

Some guys like that dichotomy...

I think that’s what this girl is counting on (found it on the adult directory for sex in Chicago)

ewww...yuk, yuk, yuk!!!

A few months ago, I realized that I’d been a victim of a disgusting pedophile when I was younger... it was 1988 and my family and I were vacationing in Hawaii...that makes me about ten...my parents let my brother and I wander around the news stands next to our gate while waiting for our flight...I was leafing through the magazines, when this guy approached me and asked if he could "show me something"...I don’t remember what I said but in the next instant he had flipped open a Playgirl magazine to a spread of a naked man, kneeling in front of a fire, his huge penis just hanging between his legs...I do remember thinking it looked a lot more intimidating than all the boys in my after school care (we played "show me yours and I’ll show you mine" all the time...I always cheated and got the boys to show me and then never reciprocate)... "what do you think?" he asked me... "I dunno, it’s gross" and then I ran over to my brother...

Really disturbing, right? But, in my innocence, I didn’t understand why the guy did it...thank god I grew up in a city, learning very quickly how to defend myself...

So, Kitten, in response to your comment, yes, they start early (mainly because the world is demanding it from them)...you could do what my mother did to my youngest brother (he’s only 17) and leave newspaper articles around the house in open view for him to "discover", warning the dangers of early sexual experimentation...and for all of those with little girls...help her to protect herself...

smoke gets in your eyes

2005-02-16T10:11:00.000-06:00

The last two days have been a hazy memory of labored breathing, rib-cracking coughing, dry lips, blood shot eyes, and strained sleep between my bed and couch, cloaked in disjointed clips from the TV buzzing in the background...Katie Couric interviewing a psychologist on the differences between raising boys and girls...Russian brides talking about marrying nerdy American men...a photographic history of the Cuban Revolution...the fruitless search for Osama and the path of destruction created through Afghanistan...infomercials, lots of infomercials...

And each time I did pass out, I would dream...

And I dreamt a lot...

The only ones I ever remember are either apocalyptic or sexual...I think that's why I cry in my sleep...I wake up choked...my heart beating furiously...that hollow feeling in my stomach...on the verge of tears...
I dream in story lines...with people and places I know...I never seem to have abstract images in a multi-dimensional universe...

But rather than depress everyone with my crazy Armageddon visions, I'll tell you the history of my sexapades...

When I was younger, still living at home, my room was in our remodeled attic. During the summers, when it was hot and muggy, I would sleep with all my windows open, trying to create a cross-breeze through my room. My favorite ritual would be to take a cold shower and sleep in my damp black bathrobe. This sets the scene for my re-occurring sexual fantasy...

I'm asleep and the sun is just beginning to rise...my room has this pink-orange glow...and I hear a noise on the roof of my house...within the next moment four guys break into my house through my open window...I play dead and keep my eyes squeezed shut as I hear them scurry across the floor and leave my room to rob my house...scared and fearing what I might see if I open my eyes, I lay stiff on my bed, contemplating on how to warn my family or call the police...then I hear his soft voice... "you know what I have to do to you now?"...I feel a rough hand on my neck...my eyes pop open...I can't see his face, but I feel his other hand untie the sash of my robe...my perspective suddenly changes and I see myself, naked, lying in the folds of my black robe, a huge man hunched over me, rubbing his hands all over my body...I should scream, I should push away, kick, bite, scratch and spit...instead, I reach up, open my thighs and pull him towards me...

This used to freak me out, until I found that a lot of woman have "rape" fantasies...

My other twisted dream took place in an open room...the floor was black and white checkered marble...a huge green antique couch in the middle...long, flowing pieces of translucent linen swirl from the ceiling...laying on the couch is this girl I knew from high school named Carolina...she lays spread-eagle on the couch and tells me to come towards her...I walk over, put her legs on my shoulders and begin to fuck her (yes, I have a penis, but I'm still a girl)...I make her cum and cum over and over again...

I used to think this was all about domination because I'm very hetro, but my favorite kind of porn is lesbian strap-on, especially ones where the girls really orgasm...

But, this is just a taste...
The other night I had the strangest of them all...

I had just moved into this loft and I was getting ready for a party...my ex-boyfriend is waiting in the living room and I start to brush my teeth...the next instant he has me bent over the sink, pulls down my pants and we start fucking...I cum really hard, water splashing all around my face as I grab the faucets and inadvertently turn them to full flow...we then end up on the floor next to my bed...I'm face down and he is behind me...his full weight presses me into the floor (he's a big guy...an ex-rugby player)...we are going at it hard and fast and, in the next moment, he thrusts into the wrong hole...at first, I squeal "is that where I think it is?"...but, it doesn't hurt at all, so I continue...suddenly, I feel sick to my stomach, and I jump up to run to the bathroom to throw up...

Weird, I know...who ever wants to end a sex dream by bowing to the porcelain God?...but, I think I had this reaction because I made a vow to only have anal sex with my husband because I'm long past virginity and I wanted to save something for my man...(that doesn't mean I haven't tried it...just never practiced it regularly with anyone or taken it all the way)...I think I was pissed it was with my ex...

It gets stranger, yet...

I fall back asleep and resume my dream at the party...I party and drink for awhile before I realize I have to go home and shower for work...I ask one of my co-workers for a ride on his moped and he agrees...I say my good-byes and meet him outside...but, before I can climb on back, he tells me I can only get a ride if I make-out with him...(sidenote: this guy really exists and my girlfriend thinks he is cute...I always put my chicks before dicks)...I'm shocked because it is uncharacteristically forward for him and I feel guilty...I say no, because my friend likes him...his reply is "so what? I'm here with you", grabs me and gives me the most passionate kiss ever!!!...I never make it to work....

I woke up disturbed from this...I've never done anything to hurt any of my girlfriends and I'm not starting now...but, in real life, I LOVE everything about this guy except his sexual prowess...he's smart, FUCKING HILARIOUS, super laid-back and extremely nice and sincere...since this dream, it has been awkward around him for me...I can't make eye-contact and, when I do, I know he knows...you see, with an honest personality comes the inability to project a good poker-face...all my boys call me out on it...they say you can see me strip a man from across the bar and give him "fuck-me" eyes...

thank god, I'm celibate right now...

sorry...still sick...no writing today

2005-02-15T10:15:00.000-06:00

why does the herdsman fuck his sheep at the edge of the cliff???

2005-02-14T08:40:00.000-06:00

feeling lonely??? (very dirty)

need a little love note??? (medium dirty)

how about a bouquet??? (little dirty)

seriously...
here's a VD poem...

roses are red
violets are blue
to all my blogging buddies...

Xs and Os to y'all,
bou

yup...I'm still drunk-dialing blogger

2005-02-12T23:16:00.000-06:00

out at the bar...drunk-dialing blogger

2005-02-12T12:00:00.000-06:00

a father's job is to keep his daughter off the pole

2005-02-12T08:15:00.000-06:00

Inspired by VD and BM (tee-hee), I ripped through all my old photos and writings to create this post about first loves...

My poor papa...I wonder if he knew that I'd grow from this...

to this crazy, horny fifteen year old...

I had just french kissed my first boy the previous summer, dated my first boyfriend that winter (with whom I discovered dry humping), skipped school with my friends to hang out in Boston, started sneaking out of my room in the middle of the night to meet up with boys and I fell in love with a beautiful, ex-coke addict, surfer from Florida who had moved to New England to try and clean up his life...

He was awesome, cool and older in my naive eyes (he's the blonde one)...he told me crazy stories of working as a drug runner and surfing, taught me how to play the guitar, let me drag him to the "Rocky Horror Picture Show", showed me my first lesbian porno, and let me hang around his house for hours during his "tattoo parties" (tattooing was illegal in Mass when I was younger so people often got tattooed in their own houses)

Oh, and he took my virginity in a big way...he taught me a lot...he was kind of kinky and I loved him for it...and he never made me feel bad for being so innocent...
example:
One night while I was riding him on top, I felt strangely "full" (there really is no other word)...I slowed down and was like "I feel really full!!!"...he just smiled and replied "that's because my finger is up your ass"...
(ok, I realize this makes it seem like I have a big asshole, but I don't...rather he had a big dick and it took me along time to not feel any pain)

Anyways, I was bursting inside with excitement, questions and love...and aside from my best girlfriend who was seeing the dark haired kid in the photo...I had no one to vent my emotions to...except my diary...

I used to lay around my bedroom floor listening to music (these four albums were the most played)...

and write in this thing...

the most common question from my friends is "do you think your mom ever read this?"...yes, I do...she knew where all my porn was stashed, so I'm sure she read through a few pages...

Much of my diary is reflective entries on life and love from a teenage point of view...but I did write a few poems...this one was about the night I lost my virginity...it was July 4th and we had just got back to his house from watching the fireworks along the Charles River...

slowly, my lips lick the passionate softness of your intoxicating flesh
innocently, my eyes hesitate under the pleading claw of your hunger
daringly, I press my pure lust into the hardness that molds my body
desperately, I cling as your heated fever assaults the vestiges of my torn soul
excitedly, my unwonted heart craves your ferocious invasion
trembling, I lay, reaching from the inside out, basking in the torture of your suffocating breath
sweat perfumes the air, creating an invisible barrier to reason
your being rips through my morals, as I instinctively move to your rhythm
crumbling, my bones physically weaken with your growing strain
pain suffuses pleasure, provoking the crazed animal hidden within
control slips away and desire screams triumphantly through my parted lips
the world has vanished and all that is left is your taste
I'm drowning among my tears, abandoned by the disillusion
yet, your harsh violation has left my mind satisfied
sleep embraces my haggard thoughts, only too aware of the rough edges created by your caress

Yeah, it is a little cheesy and I feel you can tell I was really into e.e.cummings at the time I wrote it...I miss that intense teenage passion sometimes...
In a completely weird twist of fate, I bumped into my first love eight years later while living in Colorado...we were both "playing house" with significant others but sparked a new friendship that left me happy...

yeah, it's another stoopid online quiz

2005-02-11T18:59:00.000-06:00

You scored as Punk/Rebel.

Punk/Rebel

63%

Drama nerd

56%

Stoner

56%

Loner

44%

Geek

31%

Ghetto gangsta

25%

Prep/Jock/Cheerleader

19%

Goth

What's Your High School Stereotype?
created with QuizFarm.com

is it weird that I was upset I couldn't guess the right answer???

2005-02-11T18:20:00.000-06:00

make her bark like a dog

2005-02-11T11:26:00.000-06:00

aural sex

2005-02-10T16:30:00.000-06:00

music, music, music...everyone has a fucking opinion about it...here is mine

best new song in my library to make long, slow, deep, passionate love to... "I've Been Thinkin' " Handsome Boy Modeling School featuring Cat Power...

check them out here

we've been listening to this 3 disc set (one is a DVD of music videos) at work quite a bit lately...

it's a pretty good compilation...there are a few songs that I'd never heard...and the Mogwai video for "Stanley Kubrick" is creepy-cool...the best "surprise" to the whole package is the very humorous booklet with intra-office memos and various hate emails/letters to the record label...oh the time people will take out of their lives...
A video, a song, and a hate letter about The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion is in the set as well (I already own this album)...

I know it is old, but I didn't own a TV for two years when I lived in Colorado (it's that whole hippie side of me)...so, I'd never seen this video until watching the Matador DVD...and I just love it (hot sexy naked nuns, werewolves in garterbelts and lesbian vampires)!!!!

the other CD in heavy rotation is "You're a Woman, I'm a Machine" Death From Above 1979...

I'm not usually a huge fan of mainly synthesized/electronically sampled music but I will be seeing these guys in April with my friends when they finally swing by Chi-town on their tour
Look what Jesus started...why can't I get over screaming men with shaggy long hair???

I'm shedding a tear...

this is my childhood intro to "alt. rock" wrapped up in a neat package ("Left of the Dial" Rhino Records)...I felt a little sad when a cute teenage customer asked me who was singing ("Monkey Gone to Heaven" Pixies was playing)...partly because they are hometown rock heroes for me and partly because my age is beginning to shove itself in my face on a daily basis...

Lastly, the fun mixes my gay husband whipped up for me...

they feature everything from Prince to Ludacris to Miss Kitten to Lords of Acid...the only prerequisite was that the songs be dirty and dirtier...he also put Princess Superstar's "Do It Like a Robot" in the mix which is awesome because it has robot noises...sexy robot noises...

me...listening to my music

if you hit it...that's a push

2005-02-08T06:00:00.000-06:00

sorry it has been awhile but this weekend was awesome...the weather was beautiful (like 60 degrees beautiful)...I spent the day outside with my bestest girly when not working...panted over the boys that had rolled into town for the "hottie" convention while I was working...figured what money the federal government owes me and how much I owe the state government...and sat around the living room with my roommate and friends, defacing my brother's catalogs on the coffee table...

(told you I was immature)

but...

the biggest highlight was watching...

the PATRIOTS WIN THE FUCKING SUPERBOWL (I'm loyal to my massholes)!!!!

I've decided I need me some football player...asap...

mmm, mmm, mmmmmmm...

I'm gonna make a play to catch me a linebacker who will kick his deep post into the end zone, not blocking his pass to turnover this wide receiver and punt it...
he may definitely use unnecessary roughness with the long drive to get his touchdown, tackling this hot mamma into the sack, as we fumble to see who is the first down...
nothing is out of bounds with the backfield...
so, rush into the tight end, penetrating all the gaps with your helmet, and there will be no penalty flag for trying to break the huddle...

Can you tell I need a man to run his ball down the middle of the turf and pile on as I scream "hail mary"????

donkey-punching the corporate claim on America while wearing my strap-on

2005-02-04T13:11:00.000-06:00

I just got this email from my friend who decided to visit his ex-roommate in Australia for a week:

hello girls, how are things shaking in the states? I've been checking the weather and it is most favourable here! duh, i guess, no need to rub it in. anyhoo, it's been amazing here. life is so relaxed and i can see why leah- my ex roommate who i'm staying with here- never wanted to return stateside. i think sydney is giving london a run for its money as my new favorite city. don't misunderstand, our trip to london was by far the best time ever, but i can only imagine what kind of shit we could rip up here together. so start saving your money now, because this long trip is so worth it. it's just great people, great weather, good drugs!, good coffee! and the men are HOT. and the beaches are beautiful. i have taken lots and lots of pics so i'll have to do a slide show. how lame is that? i'm not sure if i got molly's email right, so if this doesn't go through to molly, can you just forward it beth? to the correct addy?

so what else?

oh, i took some pills the first weekend i was here, and it's been over two years since that happened, and I danced my little ass off, until like six in the morning. and that's because clubs here really don't close, until everyone leaves to go to the after club, which goes until about two in the afternoon. i skipped that because i felt pretty trashy walking home. the sun was up. and i was still going. this really tall guy came up to me while i was dancing, and he's like "I like the way you dance", and it was so funny, because i was like, "wwhhhhattt"? i couldn't speak straight, i was so fucked up, but then he told me his name was spiro, and i was like, YOUR GREEK! so we chat for awhile, and i think he was hitting on me, but i just started dancing again, i couldn't deal with him anymore. but there you have it, my first ever encounter with a greek homosexual, besides myself. remind me when i return to tell the story of the seven foot bartender with one ball. okay, i am off to the beach now.
cheers,
see y'all next week,
love,
stas

I AM SOOO JEALOUS!!!! EVERYONE IS ON A FUCKING BEACH EXCEPT ME!!!!

Let me explain that Stas and Molly are my international travel companions...we try and leave the US at least once a year...last year we went to London...THAT was a story for another blog entry...this year he went "down" under without us...boo-fucking-hoo...but, I'm returning to London this summer for my youngest bro's graduation...

Australia is next for sure...all signs are pointing in that direction...it is summer there when it's winter here...my parents used to live there, so we have lots of family friends...my ex (who currently lives in Hawaii) wants to go there next NYE...and I'm sure our menage-a-trois will join him because Jan. is the best time to get the fuck outta here!!!

So...how's a girl to raise the cash???...plane tickets are expensive...and, due to the fact I'm only a five-dolla crack whore, I'd have to suck a lot of cock to pull off...ummm, at least...$2500 (that's about 500 BJs!)

Then I saw a news report about this...
crazy (yet, smart) mutha-fucka

There was also a mention about these types of women on eBay:

click this to make your bid

And then YGWIN and Sherriff got me thinking...

I do have this new scanner...

I do have a PayPal account...

I work with the public...

I do go out (all over this city) and there are about 3 million people that live here...

But...most importantly...

I have DD cup tig-o-bitties!!!!

in a deep...sexy...come-fuck-me voice

2005-02-02T10:19:00.000-06:00

dickin' around with my scanner (it's my first ever!!!), I decided to see what else I could scan besides photos...here is the result (sorry in advance for the crappy resolution, but if you squint it helps)

I've been collecting messages since NYE...
the concept: to text message everyone in my cell phone at random times, when ever I think about that particular person
the motivation: I once received a text from a friend during a bad moment in my day and it made me feel awesome...so here it is...the question of '05....

Here are the answers (so far)....

See...it makes people feel better!!!

xxoo to all my friends who deal with my impulses and cater to my fantastical whims
(faces are fun to scan, too!!!)

peter poontang

2005-02-01T16:25:00.000-06:00

I can be shallow and girlie...I admit it...I bought the latest issue of Details because it featured the Rock and has this fabulous spread of his half-naked body for seven pages (there are more photos than writing)....

But, this is not about my tool-ish, thirteen year old, pathetically immature tendencies...
This is about a fascinating article I read the next day...after the ogling had ended
The title:

I really hope so because I'm guilty...and (this is sick and twisted and please don't judge) I actually thought Prince Eric from the Little Mermaid was hot...probably because he "looked" similar to my fifth grade crush...but, when I shared this with one of my girlfriends, she made me feel like such a freak that I didn't want to admit to being disappointed with the human form of the Beast...

The article discussed the sexualization of tame cartoons to hentai, sexual deviance and the fine line between a real sexual relationship and your imagination...

I'd never been fully introduced to hentai until freshman year of college when some of my guy friends got me stoned and popped a copy of Wicked City into the VCR (yeah, I'm that old)

I found it a little weird and surprisingly violent...especially the spider woman with the dripping wet vagina of death...but, my panties were moist by the end of the movie...

So what does this all mean??? The author of the article implied that "cartoon sex" was OK as long as the viewer could distinguish reality from fantasy...but, as he pointed out, that is becoming more and more difficult in the age of "airbrushed bodies"...

Some psychologists were worried about the extremity of hentai (the kinkiness can be pretty harsh and supernatural) and it's affect on the sub-conscious...

My first reaction (most likely out of defensive guilt):
This is a load of crap...they are reading far too into this

Then I came upon this...
c'mon...click it

And saw this...

Normally, they look something like this...

The real dolls don't bother me...HBO's Real Sex series introduced me to the idea years ago...but, "Anna Mae" scares me a little...
Is the boundary of fantasy blurring??? Are there people out there raping their Anna with objects (I don't want to embellish lest everyone see the depth of the perversion I'm capable of)??? Are we laying the brick of a truly disconnected, emotionally synthesized, fabricated world????

hhmmm...I'll let you know what I come up with...after I carefully remove the staples from the binding and dismantle my magazine to plaster a pro-wrestler turned actor all over my bedroom walls...

YOU: Woman with long dark hair, dark coat, scarf, writing on your journal. ME: Dark hair, dark coat. We exchanged smiles several times.

2005-01-31T10:57:00.000-06:00

WARNING: Time to get a little reflective....

The other day we were at the corner bar (it is literally 30 yards from my house and the hot female bartender, who has the best darth vader/stormtrooper t-shirt in the world, loves us despite my jukebox nazi roommate) ...eating $3 burgers, drinking beer, discussing life...when my best girly friend told my brother she had a dream that they were dating and so "in love" and extremely happy...that then shifted into the fact that women are constantly trying to "change" their men once they enter serious relationship status...my brother adamantally exclaimed that "‘change’ should never have been in a woman’s vocabulary"

I got to thinking about my only long term boyfriend...and realized the reason why my ex always told me I was his "favorite" girlfriend was because I never did ask him to "change"...I fell in love with him...the way he was...and while I didn’t like everything about him, I knew that at age 22 he wasn’t gonna be shifting personalities dramatically...

Yet, I feel like I’m too eclectic and I’m constantly shocked when guys express interest in me...one of my girlfriends used to lecture me on who was I to judge what others find attractive and gravitate towards...wise words from a girl who once called me at 3am to brag that she had just made out with Ron Jeremy on a beach in Cali...

But alas (what an old word that hopefully will never disappear), I find myself doubting ever meeting the man that could truly love this nerdy freak with ADD...

So, in anticipation of V-day and inspired by my second favorite Aussie (sorry, Knifey...my friend Andrew is numero uno)...I’m making a list of my personality traits that my future partner is just gonna have to accept....

my outside persona is that of a fifteen year old, I look like I'm twenty-three but my friends always say I’m an "old soul"

my three favorite musicals are Hair, Tommy and Jesus Christ Superstar...I own the original recordings...and I known every lyric

I only play classical music well on the piano...and I used to play soul on my trumpet

I like all kinds of music...but if you were to make me "commit" to a certain genre I’d say jazz and blues

my bathroom is decorated with Playboy memorabilia because I like titty mags

I like to tell jokes and immediately start laughing during the delivery of the punch line

I text message in complete sentences yet abbreviate and create nicknames in my verbal speech regularly

I use phrases like "buck wild"..."balls to the wall"... "that’s the way the cookie crumbles, toots"... "up to no god damn good"... "I smell shenanigans"... "chatty Kathy"... "just dickin’ around"... "stinky monkey"... "poopie butt"... "I’m brain farting so hard right now"

I use adjectives like "glorious"... "gorgeous"... "precious"... "sweet (tits, lips, ass, etc)"

when I hydrate my tattoos I always hear Buffalo Bill in my head... "it rubs the lotion on it’s skin or else it gets the hose again"

horror films make me laugh

gore fascinates me

I love the ocean because it scares me and soothes me at the same time

I often call people "honey" or "sweetie" or "baby" or "princess" or "muffin" or "tigger" (including strangers)

when drunk, my favorite things to discuss are global economy, travel, politics/government, theology, human behavior, music, books and sex (duh)

I’m the Ken Jennings of absolutely useless facts and information (like did you know Chicago is the number one city in the US of champagne consumption?)

if you Google my real name you find this...mine is the entry titled "Agars, Percolation, and Critical Probability"...and yes, I really wrote it

the architecture and history of cities intrigue me (my friends get annoyed when we travel because I always have to hit up some museum, church, visitor’s center, etc before going out to get wasted)

I like pain...it reminds me of just how "alive" I am

I dabble in BDSM

I’ve never faked an orgasm and never will

I like big tattoos, but I hide mine a lot of the time...my mother doesn’t know how I am "going to get a real man with this shit on my body"...but I’m not too concerned

when I was young, the first five records I danced around the living room to were Kenny Rogers, Rolling Stones, Bruce Springsteen, Peter Paul and Mary, and Rosenshontz

I love comic book hero and vampire movies...even if they are terrible

I openly stare at people in public and make eye contact...not on purpose, though...I think its because I like to fantasize weird stories and ideas about strangers

I’m easily excited...I respond with open arms and child-like innocence/wonder to anything new

I like this link and have almost combed through all of it (thanks, I.M. Dedd)

I’m pretty book smart but street stupid...and I hate intellectual snobbery

I only see the good in people and sometimes get hurt because of that...but I throw a punch like a boy so I’ve always been able to defend myself (Alabama Whorly style)

I see the forest before the trees but I like to compartmentalize the trees once I’ve assessed the whole forest

I come from the school of thought that everyone can "teach" you something

anger, disgust and passive-aggressive behavior are negatives that I try not spend my energy on

I used to take lots of drugs...all different kinds, though I’ve never shot anything up...but now I only drink

I sing aloud all the time...I sound like I’m tone deaf...which is weird because I have a nice speaking voice

I’m very extroverted in social settings and self confident...but I suffer annual anxiety attacks that transform me to into a hermit for months at a time

I’m very comfortable being alone...in my head

I don’t fall in love with boys easily...and when I do I get intensely shy

I often forget I’m a girl and talk like a trucker and piss in public

I like motorcycles and fast cars and pick-up trucks...I don’t like SUVs

I know how to use many types of power tools (and I do on a daily basis)

I can listen to music all day...even while I sleep

I laugh a lot...very loudly...from my gut...and have always received compliments about it

I mimic sounds I hear and like to make robot noises

I watch a lot of porn...but, oddly, I see it more clinical than sexual

I love the naked male body more than the naked female body

I’m not a make-out slut (but I often kiss my friends on the mouth...both boys and girls)

I like the smell of clean sweat

I have a lifetime membership with the Girl Scouts of America

I’m very respectful of the elderly, homeless and animals

I thank bus drivers and airline pilots when exiting (hey, if I get from point A to B alive you’re OK in my book), I say "bless you" to anyone who sneezes (anywhere, every time) and I always hold doors

I think young children are hilarious and I love to hold babies

I’m renowned for my patience and stamina

commitment means this to me: my children, my tattoos, my partner (I only have 1 out of 3)

I’ve never cheated on a boyfriend

I love it when people make fun of me to my face

I don’t get self-conscious when people prove me wrong

I cry in my sleep but very rarely in "real" life

I sleep sideways in my bed and I like to hold my partner rather than be held

by "dinner and a movie", I mean "we will be having sex and I'm taping it"

2005-01-28T08:59:00.000-06:00

In honor of the Oscars and having the academy tell us what they think are the movies of '04, I decided to share with my fellow bloggers and friends a few films I've seen this last month that really, truly entertained me...be warned...I watch a lot of documentaries...

DIG!
This movie follows the Dandy Warhols and the Brian Jonestown Massacre for seven years and their struggle to "make it" in the record industry of modern America. While I'm not really "into" the music of either of these bands, I'm friends with many wanna be rock stars and record label creators, so I've often seen the same struggle in my face. It is a crazy movie that actually stirred me up inside.
trailer

On Any Sunday
Ok...I've decided to rent every Steve McQueen movie available from my Netflix account. This is because I first fell in love with him when I saw the original Thomas Crown Affair in the eighth grade...and not because he's an exceptional actor but he just exudes this certain je ne sais quoi. This film follows various superstars of the motorcycle world (1971) and was the first of its kind. I actually got into the fact it was older, the soundtrack was nice and cheesy, and the "special effects" were limited to slow-action photography and shaky frames from cameras mounted on motorcycles. It also reminded me of my motocross friends in Colorado...especially Mark who used to make us watch Point Break every weekend...I wish he'd known of this documentary. An interesting point is that the director, Bruce Brown, is the father of Dana Brown (he did Step Into Liquid). Dana will be putting out his own version of his dad's original this spring...Dust to Glory.

Sex and Lucia
Yes, switching gears here (pun not intended). I got this movie...well...because I heard it showed naked penis...up close. And it does, but I soon felt extremely immature for my reasoning after about 15 minutes into it. Instead of suffering that uncomfortable horniness where you feel like you're watching really good soft-core porn...I slipped into nostalgic memories of laying on the futon, naked in the sun, with my ex for days at a time. Don't get me wrong, this movie is extremely sexy but it may trigger the honeymoon memories of a new love.

Shaun of the Dead
I found this movie the perfect blend of humor for my taste...let me warn you, though, that "serious" horror films crack me up, all the time. It really is just another zombie flick, but it is so fucking good. And while most critics panned it for getting a little reflective towards the end, I felt it made the story that much better. Just be sure to watch this with open-minded, fun friends.

Next Stop Wonderland
I have a soft spot for this film because it was filmed in Boston and, specifically, the New England Aquarium (I've been to that museum at least 500 times in my life). But, it is a cute love story. Filmed in 1998, it approaches relationships with content and innocence rather than sex and the scarred disappointment of current stories. Yes, it's a romantic comedy...but if you want some brain candy and to see some great footage of Boston, go rent it.

will you part my beef curtains with your soul pole?

2005-01-27T01:11:00.000-06:00

It's funny how certain aspects of your life seem to coincidently coincide (you like that shit...huh?)

Example:
The hot topic is teen sex right now...and everyone is talking about it

My bestest girly came over last night to watch cable TV and force me off this f-ing machine (it's so hard when it keeps snowing like this and it has the only working DVD player in the household)

In keeping with my comic book heroes obsession and love for the teenage angst of yesteryear, we watched a "fresh episode on the WB" of Smallville...
The story was dealing with virginity (and trying to lose it)...Clark and Lana both got close but still had their cherries intact at the end of the episode...how responsible of the network...
I did learn from the public service announcement at the end that 14% of sexual active teens under the age of 18 wished they had waited....hhmmm

Next up was a Katie Couric special...cutely titled The 411: Teens and Sex...where she interviewed a dozen teens (ages 13-16) and their parents about sexual activity and education...

*By now every seat was filled in the living room...myself, my girlfriend, my roommate and his old college roommate, my brother and his college fraternity brother...the dicks out-weighed the chicks, but I began to realize so does sexual education*

The hot topic was "sexual relations" and what that means (thank you Bill Clinton)...

My mother is a high school teacher on the east coast (where I was born and raised) and I remember her calling me, upset that she was forced to attend a conference on educating girls that giving blowjobs to boys instead of sex was degrading, especially since the favor was rarely returned...my mom is a fucking math teacher! (this came about because they caught teens suckin' dick in the bathrooms one too many times on campus)

But, does this truly shock anyone when we have a slew of teen celebrities famous for being rich and ho-ing out (the phrase "It's better in Paris" means something different for grandma and grandpa)...

Just the other day we were discussing the Mormon phenomenon of participating in anal sex to keep the hymen in tact for marriage...my co-worker was shocked that girls thought anal was less intimate than vaginal...

I replied to all of this that our "religious" (and lets be honest America...we are using this term very loosely) morals and our nationwide state of denial are to blame...

I was raised in a very strange dichotomy...my mother is an uptight ex-catholic and my dad is an openly sex-starved pervert...this led to being kicked out of the room if a particularly graphic sex scene popped up in a movie and,yet, listening to discussions of "morning wood" at the dinner table when my mom was out of earshot...it got pretty confusing
Then came sex education at school...which was extremely informative because AIDS and HIV had just been recognized as a real global epidemic...by the eighth grade I was explaining to my 45 year old mother what a cock ring was...hell, I just taught a buddy of mine the other night what a dental dam is...

But, I digress...

The psychologist on the special was telling parents they needed to help teenagers understand emotional feelings and connections and how to equate that with sex and they would eventually learn to abstain on their own...

BULL-FUCKING-SHIT

I will never forget the one afternoon in the fifth grade, before I discovered the fine art of masturbation, the "need" to have "something" up inside me so bad, that I grabbed one of my father's condoms, stuffed it full of toilet paper and shoved it up my cooch (Im dead fucking serious)...needless to say this didn't work at all and I remember being confused with the "wetness" on the condom...

Now, granted, I may be a sexually hyper individual, but are these people fucking serious??? Do they remember the RAGING hormones of adolescence???? I used to masturbate in public restrooms of restaurants because I couldn't wait the car ride home!!!! I have a diary full of erotic poetry, drawings and fantasies from age 15!!!! I used to orgasm in my sleep from crazy sex dreams!!! And they expect these poor kids to wait for "love" (like anyone is truly understanding that, either...but, that's another blog entry for another day)??? Have you seen the tits and ass that are shoved in our faces everyday??? I used to print out poorly pixelated pictures from porn sites...now my 17 year old brother has a free movie of Jenna Jameson sucking cock downloaded to his server!!!!

And the world is constantly shifting...dating is not the same at all...meaning sex isn't the same...meaning we need to start getting realistic here...

My roommate just got this email from a girl that he met online and went on two dates with:
So...you wanna be my fuck buddy? You'd better be good, available and willing to use me just like I'd be using you. There's nothing worse than fuck buddies not being on the same page. I'm very good at taking emotion out of sex if need be and I wouldn't want to hurt your feelings. Not that I don't think you're an awesome person. You're by far the best pen pal ever and have excellent taste in music. :) If we can truly agree to keep it on this level, then I'm in. Pressure...

Am I surprised??? Fuck no!!! We've got a huge generation gap forming and the two sides are not recognizing that it seems to be growing exponentially...
My generation is moving away from the ideal nuclear family...we're getting selfish...we want the awesome relationship and not really willing to settle...and why the fuck not???...communication boundaries are disintegrating...I "meet" more people at home than in the bar (sometimes...depending on the amount of alcohol consumed)...so our options are not left to the first person we boinked in college or knocked-up.

Can you imagine what the kids behind me have in store???

my fingers hurt

2005-01-26T01:09:00.000-06:00

no....not from this

from this!

And this was the only type of scoring going on...

We had a work party because...well...we just all love each other...and decided to go bowling because...well...IT'S FUCKING BOWLING!!!!!

Welcome to my world....
My day had been long...the previous night I was fed beers and shots by a girl I just met because she was trying to get into my friend’s pants and decided the fastest way there was to be nice to his "mommy"...that’s me...I ended up home by 2:30 am...answered my brother’s cell phone because it wouldn’t stop ringing...talked awhile with his friend...tried to pass out to old school re-runs of Saturday Night Live...like, Chevy Chase old...woke up at 3:30am...needed to barf my brains out...didn’t make it past sitting up in my bed, so I grabbed a shopping bag from my floor, not giving a shit whether anything was in it...immediately passed out, again...until 4:00am, when my ex boyfriend called from Hawaii...I tried to have a conversation, but he just ended up babbling to me while I slipped in and out of consciousness...I woke to my alarm at 8:00am for work and greeted my roommate in the living room with my bag of barf...after my shift I was at the bowling alley by 7pm...ready to roll...

Some of us had picked out names and, after surveying the jukebox, some of us had picked out theme songs...

Mine was Thunda Kunt and the song was "The Thunder Rolls" Garth Brooks (I really couldn’t have planned it better)

Here we have 18 lb Balls (member of team Thunda)...theme song is "Take the Skinheads Bowling" Manic Street Preachers

This is my bestest girly...she wanted to be Gutter Balls...but after her choice of bowling ball, we changed it to Pink Taco Ball...theme song was "Preacher’s Son" Camille Velasco

Here is Lover and Assmasta (both part of team Thunda)..."Hit Me With Your Best Shot" Pat Benatar and "I’ll Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That)" Meat Loaf, respectively

Assmasta is demonstrating how to air dry that shit

Lover is the reason why they say smoking was invented in bowling alleys

Here is the captain of team Thunda (in the red), Hammerin’ Hendy...theme song "Bohemian Rhapsody" Queen...and if looks like these two have just changed the topic from Optimus Prime and Transformers to quantum physics...you are correct

Badussy Balls...theme "The Cup of Life" Ricky Martin

Stonie and Three-Fingers-In discussed strategies on how to beat team Thunda (we truly are a formidable force)

Ball Driller...theme song "I Want It That Way" Backstreet Boys...tried to prove he was actually Ball Licker

Than did the "tap-that-ass-victory-end-zone-dance"

High Roller..."Ring of Fire" Johnny Cash...proved the straight boys could do it, too

I’m gonna kick this mo-fo’s ass...it’s on...he’s trying to be precious with his girl, but don’t let that fool you...he plays real dirty...and he’s an AWOL mormon

My gay husband, Techno Balls

Here’s the Pussy Posse...the ladies in charge of this rag tag group of novice, drunken bowlers

smile like a donut and walk like a pigeon

2005-01-21T22:14:00.000-06:00

I recently heard from a friend a story about one of our ex co-workers...
She went out drinking one night and got completely thrashed...
A boy started flirting with her and she ended up back at his place...
She was really, really horny and they to hook it...
She sucked his cock for awhile and let him get off...
Well, when he started to return the favor, he realized she was on the rag and wanted nothing to with her...
As he was trying to kick her out, in her drunken fury, she demanded some sort of compensation...
She left with his Lance Armstrong yellow band...happy...

I'm going straight to hell in a hand basket

2005-01-20T09:34:00.000-06:00

So I disappeared for the last few days...
Cyber friends were wondering what happened...

I could lie and say that I finally did this:

or that I stayed in...glued to my favorite on-line porn directory...and indulged with this:

or that I just got a new tattoo.

But, truthfully, this is what I've been doing...
We had inventory at work, so I got up at 4am, armed myself with a scan-gun, and counted...
books:

playing cards:

designer knock-off furniture:

toys:

underwear:

cutesy little graphic tees for girls:

cool shoes that I really, really want:

and humorous double-entendre tees for boys:

(this is completely gratuitous...we all just think the model is sexy)

and, in keeping with inventory tradition, we were in the bars by 2pm, getting rocked...

we decided to go here and run up a $299.19 tab on pitchers of frozen margaritas (but, the owner did give us two rounds of free glow-in-the-dark, test tube shots of tequila)...
and we chatted about short school busses, wet boxes (and I mean the dirty context), quiz bowl competitions in high school, and the fact that the guy who guards the men's locker room at Balley's Fitness to deter sex has a job position just above jizz-mopper...

but, I cut out by 5pm with my bestest girl (we were pretty trashed) to go here:

and see this (my brother had bought me two tickets):

but, it has been updated and now looks like this:

and I creamed my panties as I watched this:

only because I'm a weirdo and I would find Jesus a sex symbol and the actor who played the role was not only severely fuckable but had a vocal range that set me on fire...surrounded by top 40 pop, hip-hop, emo rock, hard punk and ambient electronica all day at work truly lets you appreciate a classically trained voice...

and when we left, there was a blizzard outside, the rest of our friends were hooking up in a drunken co-worker orgy, so we took a cab to this place.

and I fell in love with it...and I knew I would because it is the favorite bar of the biggest unrequited love of my life...a beautiful painter who listened to good ol' fashion rock, built a full-size bowling lane through the middle of his loft (just because he could), would discuss the next progressive medium for new art (since everything seems to be re-hashed pop culture of the past), drink with you shot for shot straight from the bottle, tell you stories of being a lumber jack and his trips to Europe where he fell in love with a cellist, and drive his pick-up truck to the tittie bars...

and so my girlfriend and sat and drank beers and bonded over everything that makes us women...like inverted uterusi, squirting, orgasms, masturbation, dick pierces, clit pierces, anal sex, clit locations, breasts, kissing styles (and we've shared a few), lips, favorite positions (we are both doggie-style), shaving versus waxing, love, relationships, what we wanted in a man (although, I kept mentioning Jesus), where we were going to be living in a year, who should have kids, and most importantly (illustrated on a napkin) whether we were "innies" or "outties":

this is her

this is me

and eventually we trudged through the snow...more intimate friends...to "crash" at her place...

remember...only the good die young

2005-01-17T08:27:00.000-06:00

After contemplation, I conclude that this award which I receive on behalf of that movement is profound recognition that nonviolence is the answer to the crucial political and moral question of our time -- the need for man to overcome oppression and violence without resorting to violence and oppression.

Civilization and violence are antithetical concepts. Negroes of the United States, following the people of India, have demonstrated that nonviolence is not sterile passivity, but a powerful moral force which makes for social transformation. Sooner or later all the people of the world will have to discover a way to live together in peace, and thereby transform this pending cosmic elegy into a creative psalm of brotherhood.

If this is to be achieved, man must evolve for all human conflict a method which rejects revenge, aggression and retaliation. The foundation of such a method is love. The tortuous road which has led from Montgomery, Alabama, to Oslo bears witness to this truth. This is a road over which millions of Negroes are travelling to find a new sense of dignity.

This same road has opened for all Americans a new ear of progress and hope. It has led to a new Civil Rights bill, and it will, I am convinced, be widened and lengthened into a superhighway of justice as Negro and white men in increasing numbers create alliances to overcome their common problems.

I accept this award today with an abiding faith in America and an audacious faith in the future of mankind. I refuse to accept despair as the final response to the ambiguities of history. I refuse to accept the idea that the "isness" of man's present nature makes him morally incapable of reaching up for the eternal "oughtness" that forever confronts him.

I refuse to accept the idea that man is mere flotsom and jetsom in the river of life unable to influence the unfolding events which surround him. I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality.

I refuse to accept the cynical notion that nation after nation must spiral down a militaristic stairway into the hell of thermonuclear destruction. I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right temporarily defeated is stronger than evil triumphant.

I believe that even amid today's motor bursts and whining bullets, there is still hope for a brighter tomorrow. I believe that wounded justice, lying prostrate on the blood-flowing streets of our nations, can be lifted from this dust of shame to reign supreme among the children of men.

I have the audacity to believe that peoples everywhere can have three meals a day for their bodies, education and culture for their minds, and dignity, equality and freedom for their spirits. I believe that what self-centered men have torn down, men other-centered can build up. I still believe that one day mankind will bow before the altars of God and be crowned triumphant over war and bloodshed, and nonviolent redemptive goodwill will proclaim the rule of the land.

"And the lion and the lamb shall lie down together and every man shall sit under his own vine and fig tree and none shall be afraid."

I still believe that we shall overcome.

MLK

okay, okay...I didn't want to get back up on this box but I just can't fight it

2005-01-16T16:52:00.000-06:00

Serious time, again...

brought on by one too many recent confessions...this is dedicated to the ones I love...

To my buddy that can't break up with his girlfriend from freshman year of college because he's been with her so long and loves her enough not to want to hurt her, yet, doesn't seem to understand that cheating on her, creating the biggest web of lies, isn't saving her heartbreak but laying the foundation of permanent mental scaring.

To my girlfriend who would "fall in love with a potato" if it stuck around long enough.

To another great guy friend (top 5, for sure) who has always equated the uneasy insecurities of a relationship and "head games" with passion.

To my sweetie pie that is with one guy because he is career-stable...future-secure...the embodiment of everything her family taught her a successful man is, but is secretly dating the exciting...young-at-heart...artistic man which she "has nothing in common with" but constantly loves to be around.

To my main man who, literally, is dumped by his girlfriend every Friday and having make-up sex by Sunday night.

(these last 5 Cancers are killing me with their emotions, yet I'm drawn towards them because of it)

To my little brother who drunk dials me every weekend to see if it's appropriate to drunk dial his ex-girlfriend.

To my best girlfriend who thinks she is flawed and attracts only scum...partly because she is consistently "the other woman", unbeknownst to her.

To my gay boyfriend who is convinced that he is in love with this one boy but deals with the fact that he is "unavailable" by serial dating and hanging out with his ex.

To my other gay boyfriend who is scared to leave his "sugar daddy".

To my chickadee who is in love with boy number one.

To the countless others that have come to me for advice...
Here it is...

I know I come off as a whoring party-girl in this blog, but the truth is I'm not...
Currently, I'm celibate...and this includes any type of sexual activity (with another person).
I did have my wild years, but that was fuelled by a nasty drug addiction and breaking up with my one and only ex...whom I love, unconditionally...and dealt with the hurt in unemotional sex.

unconditional love:

it's not fabulous sex (but can definitely lead to it)
it's not crazy obsession (and if you feel that way, you are in the wrong relationship)
it's not the fluff that fills the empty void or answers the howl of lonely insecurity
it's not something you cultivate
it's not a pedestal on which you place the object of your affection
it's not measured in diamonds and pearls
it's not losing your sense of individuality
it's not jealousy
it's not baggage
it's not a sense of duty or commitment
it's not a power struggle
it's not fear

it's unspoken understanding, always
it's honesty
it's personal freedom
it's inherent
it's really seeing the good and bad and accepting it all without question
it's falling in love over and over and over and over
it's the ability to see your love at age 3 and 64 and realize they will always "look" the same
it's unquestioning trust
it's hiding nothing
it's never suffering an awkward silence
it's always feeling confident
it's forever

...and it's been nearly impossible to verbalize...and I can't do it justice...but, I try again and again...for my friends.

it's a witch's tit out here

2005-01-16T16:11:00.000-06:00

My God! I'm feeling a little frosty! I think it's like...-8 degrees! Last night my friend Jill was so right when questioning our decision to move here...because the winters can really suck (but Chi-town makes up for it during the summer with killing the hibernation slumber by throwing it down hard).

And this is the kind of cold that sticks with you...I'm still shivering as I type this...unable to shake the incessant need to pee.

When driving my friends home last night from the bar (and no...I wasn't drunk) they all had to climb in through the driver's side because it was the only door that opened. I couldn't see out my rear view because the ice was frozen on so thick (except through the letters Z, A, K carved into the permafrost of my car...the perks of living next door to a neighborhood bar...the drunks fuck with your parked car...as I discovered this morning, "ZAK" attacked everyone's rear window).

I had to walk to work with wet hair because my tires had literally frozen to the street. Even with the essential winter accessories, the guy at the coffee shop laughed at the fact my hair had turned to icicles that pointed every which way...he did cheer me up with his rambunctious impression of James Brown as it played over the speakers.

To top it off (and let me preface this with the weird fact that I don't listen to music through headphones when I walk anywhere because I'm slowly going deaf...so I always have a soundtrack playing in my head via memory), the song should have been "Winter Wonderland" (let's go with Stryper...for shits and giggles...although I'm really partial to Rosemary Clooney's version) but my head kept skipping to "Torture" by Method Man and the Wu-Tang.

this list is wicked awesome

2005-01-16T16:04:00.000-06:00

You know you're from Massachusetts if:

1. You think crosswalks are for wimps
2. You think if someone's nice to you they either want something or they are from out of town and lost
3. You know how to cross four lanes of traffic in five seconds
4. You're amazed when traveling out of town that people at McDonalds actually speak English
5. You think it's not actually tailgating unless you're touching the bumper of the car in front of you
6. You know that a yellow light means that at least five more people can get through and a red one means two more can
7. The transportation system is known as the "T"
8. You could own a small town in Iowa for the cost of your house
9. Subway is a fast food place
10. There are 24 Dunkin Donuts shops within 15 minutes of your house
11. When people talk about "The Curse Of The Bambino" you know what they're talking about and believe it too...Or used to...
12. You believe using your turn signals gives away your plan to the enemy
13. If you stay on the same road long enough it eventually has three different names
14. Someone has honked at you because you didn't peel out the second the light turned green
15. You have honked at someone because they didn't peel out the second the light turned green
16. All the potholes just add to the excitement of driving
17. Stop signs mean slow down a little, but only if you want to
18. Six inches of snow is considered a dusting
19. Three days of 90 degree heat is definitely a "heat wave;" 63 degrees is "on the warm side" 20. You cringe every time you hear some actor/actress imitate the "Boston Accent" on TV or in a movie; if you don't have it, then you're never going to get it even if you were born here
21. At the ice cream shop you call chocolate sprinkles "jimmies"
22. You can go from one side of town to the other in less than fifteen minutes and see at least fifteen losers you went to high school with doing the same thing they were doing when you saw them last
23. The person in front of you is going 70 MPH and you're cursing them for going too slow
24. You know how to pronounce towns like Worcester, Haverhill, and Cotuit
25. You know what they sell at a "packie"
26. You have never been to Cheers
27. You've slammed on your brakes to deter a tailgater
28. You still try to order curly fries from Burger King
29. You keep an ice scraper in your car all year round
30. You know at least three Tony's, one Vinnie, and a Frank
31. Paranoia sets in when you can't see an ATM or CVS
32. You've pulled out of a side street and used your car to block oncoming traffic so you can make a left
33. You've bragged about saving money at The Christmas Tree Shop
34. You know what "regular coffee" is
35. You can navigate a rotary without a problem
36. You have been to Fenway Park
37. You refer to the New York Yankees as the devil
38. You feel the rest of the world needs to drive more like you
39. When someone calls you a "masshole" you take it as a compliment
40. You use the words "wicked" and "good" in the same sentence
41. You know what a frappe is
42. Saint Patrick's Day is your second favorite holiday
43. You are proud to drink Sam Adams and think that the rest of the country owes Bostonians a thank you
44. You never say "Cape Cod" you say "The Cape"
45. You went to Old Sturbridge Village and Plymouth Plantation in elementary school
46. You can drive to the mountains and the ocean all in one day
47. You have a special place in your heart for the Worcester Firefighters
48. You know the Mass Pike is some strange weather dividing line
49. You almost feel disappointed when someone doesn't flip you off when you cut them off or steal their parking space
50. You actually get all the jokes and pass them on!

Boubie goes to Hollywood

2005-01-15T13:02:00.000-06:00

So my roomie and I were watching the best of Will Ferrell on SNL and he does this killer James Lipton impression (from the Actor's Studio)...in keeping with the whole celebrity thing and my nauseating addiction to lists and Q&As here are my answers to the famous questions:

What is your favorite word?
It's a tie between qweef (a pussy fart) and taint (Midwest people call it chode...ain't the balls and it ain't the ass)

What is your least favorite word?
I know you're supposed to pick a word that you actually least like the meaning of...problem is, words mean different things depending on the context and I could never hold anything against a word.

What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?
many, many things...anything new to my world really gets the juices flowing.

What turns you off?
smart people who purposely play stupid

What is your favorite curse word?
goddamnit and mother-trucker (I work around too many people to have it be worse)

What sound or noise do you love?
laughter (this includes giggles, snorts, snickers and the deep silent convulsing kind)

What sound or noise do you hate?
screaming (and I'm talking about the kind where you hear the terror and pain)

What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
this question is another bad one for me to answer...those "what career is good for you" surveys have told me something different every time I’ve taken one (maybe I should stop)...so here's a list of things I've considered:
stripper (the burlesque kind)
flight attendant
bar owner
taxi driver
small retail business owner
screenwriter
nanny
teacher
the peace corps
sexologist
massage therapist
psychologist
porn producer
park ranger
veterinarian
travel guide author (but a cool one who knows where all the seedy shit is)

What profession would you not like to do?
anything directly involved with killing
(I know this seems odd since I did name this f-ing blog "serial killers and pornos" but I am actually only fascinated with the psychology behind why serial killers exist, especially since they really didn't become common until after the industrial revolution)

If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
"Here's your Old Style and your friends are already at the strip club, waiting for you"