Thursday, April 15, 2010

So true....



I couldn't agree more. This reminds me of how I truly believe that you don't need a gym membership to stay in shape. You just need to have lots and lots of sex. Better yet, you could get a gym membership with the sole purpose of screwing everyone who attends that gym. More bang for your buck! ......ZING!

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

i'm not a dreamer-poet and he'd make a shitty lumberjack

We make love like we're devoted.
We fuck like we're going to die, tomorrow.
We sleep, contented.

I hold him close most of the night.
My fingers tangled in his curls, eyelashes brushing his chest
His breath warm, heartbeat comforting

We're so wrong and it feels so right.
I'm absolutely in lust.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Sexual prime is a myth, right?

How is it possible that there's an age range at which you are the most sexual? I'd like to believe true intimacy plays a large role in really wonderful sex.

It's not to say that you don't come across the occasional person whom you instantly click with. Intense hours spent rolling between the sheets, covered in sweat and awesome without really knowing much about each other, or caring to for that matter.

I'm not sure how relevant this topic is to a dating blog however this lady is rabid and insatiable. Seriously, I want it everyday, three or four times please. And frankly, let's make it kinky gentlemen, I rarely cum on my back.

There's no one in the picture right now that can satiate, so I guess it's just me and the njoy wand. Thank god for that $95 piece of stainless steel, 30-seconds-to-squirt, glory.

sigh.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

The Question




The Answer: No. No...you're never too old to be a hussy.
My grandmother is pushing eighty and still manages to get numbers from guys who want to take her out on hot dates. She claims that she never follows through with such offers, but I think she may secretly be running an escort service on the side. You never know.

Friday, April 9, 2010

My Art Collection




I met this dude way back when and we've had splendid times together. I've never been a fan of dudes who send naked pictures but this one was persistent about it. I didn't argue. I pretended to hate it.

His sexting came at all hours of the day. He would comment about how he just couldn't get rid of his erection while at work. It had a lot to do with him placing the heater a bit too close to his crotch, but there was no reasoning with him.

It's now come to a point where I could honestly open an art gallery solely devoted to his cock pictures. When I mentioned that I was planning on doing so, he agreed that it was necessary. He felt that more people should be aware of his penis.
So...in dedication to this week being semi-boring and far too long....I hereby declare this 'Penis Awareness Week'.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

the day i fucked a tripod

FROM DEEP IN THE ARCHIVES

I'd seen him around the bar a number of times, occasionally we'd chat. One hot and humid evening I was low on cash and feeling voracious, he started buying me drinks.

Back at his house, we're kissing heavily and peeling clothing.
I pull off my shirt, he drops his pants to the floor.

The man had a prosthetic leg.

I say nothing and just lay there - shocked, naked and staring. The look on his face said, "Say something. Say anything," but I wasn't there to talk nor did he offer a warning. Quietly my thoughts raced by (eg.'he walks pretty normally with that thing... I wonder how much it cost him?").

A short while later I had almost forgotten about robo-leg when suddenly he stopped, leaned over and started messing with it.

He took the fucking leg off and says,
"I get better leverage with the stump."
OMFG.

He wasn't lying, that stump could create some angles. However at that point, all I could think about was the story Good Country People by Flannery O'Connor. I so badly wanted to grab that crazy contraption, shove it in my suitcase full of bibles, and run.

The Story of My Life

I'm the first person that people see upon entering the building of my job. I'm fine with that. I'm kind of a social butterfly, so getting paid to talk is pretty swell.
There are shitty days. Take, for example, Valentines Day. Sitting at the desk where flowers are continually being delivered to every else in the building, aside from myself, is enough to make me want to baby shake someone.
I refrain from doing so.

...you're welcome.

Some days are lovely. The past few weeks I've been encountering this really adorable Jimmy Johns delivery dude. He delivers food and we get to chatting for a bit. It got to the point where I would call to order a sandwich and he would know it was me.
He said he recognized my laugh. He knew me by name. If that's not a crush, I don't know what is!

I proceed to comment about him to everyone I know. I finally grew a pair and asked his name. It was at this point where I had made up my mind that I was going to post a 'missed connection' about him. This was mainly because I thought it would be funny. I wasn't intending for him to respond. In fact, I was terrified that he might actually do so. The post went something like this:

"Ohhhhhh Mr. Jimmy Johns Delivery Dude.....
Let me count the ways.....
I'm almost positive that you're aware of the fact that I quickly apply makeup prior to your arrival on a daily basis.
You always deliver food and then hang out for a bit to chit chat with me.
It's adorable.
...I think it's high time you ask for my hand in marriage...I mean...ask me out for a drink...I mean...just continue to bring me sandwiches."

I don't think that he ever read it, but sure enough, he was back the next day to deliver another sandwich to someone in the building. As we waited on the person to come pay for their meal we began chatting. He commented on my 6am, half asleep, haircut that I had given myself that morning. We had a fun conversation about our pets. Then he dropped the bomb. He mentioned the word "girlfriend".
Well...that ends that. Why was he even flirting with me if he had a girlfriend?

Assuming we were done speaking, I proceeded to help a new visitor. I was still at work, after all. He began scribbling something on a piece of paper. He handed it to me. It read:
Call me if you want to "chill"

His phone number followed.

REALLY?!?!?!
Who tells someone that they're dating someone else and then turns around and hands another person their phone number?! Wait! What is "chill" suppose to mean?! He's looking for a good time....clearly.
It was in this one simple act that my Jimmy Johns boyfriend was no more. He was a Jimmy Johns Asshole. He was just like dozens of dudes I've met in the past.
I had such high hopes for this guy....but no...he done me wrong. If only his girlfriend were aware of what a jerk-faced d-bag her boyfriend truly is.
What's truly awful is that this is common. This is normal. This....is terribly sad.