Monday, April 28, 2008
Horny
I haven’t posted videos before, except in the Meebo room below, but I found this link in my bookmarks and needed to share it. I think I’m actually a bit too old now to be turned on by almost anything the way the narrator in this YouTube video is, but I have fond memories of those days. (Guys, remember seventh or eight grade when something as inconsequential as the exhaust fan turning on in your World History class would give you an erection? I mean, does that make sense? An exhaust fan?) Seeing my first bare female arm of spring made me think of that. The things that make us horny.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Haiku
I.
stale costume drama
made better by popcorn and
your hand in my pants.
II.
tied to none but myself,
I point my toes at your touch.
the string tugs my balls.
III.
your mom’s sweater rack?
in your room, transformed.
last night’s spreader bar!
Friday, April 18, 2008
April, Come She Will
My mind is in a thousand places today as I try to wrap things up for work and get ready to leave tomorrow on a short, driving vacation ("Gasoline is how much per gallon?"). And naturally, the timing of when things happen is not working out in the least. Why is it that everyone else interprets their deadline for getting work to me as dinnertime, after I’ve presumably stopped working for the day, while I normally try to get them things by midday when they still have time to look at it? You don’t have an answer. Neither do I.
May is almost here and you should know by now that May is National Masturbation Month. Which means… it’s almost time for Masturbate-A-Thon 2008. Sponsored by the Center for Sex and Culture, this year’s event takes place in San Francisco on Sunday, May 25. They welcome both participants and spectators, in person and virtual. Spectators pay to watch. Participants masturbate and get sponsored by friends, etc., willing to “pay by the minute.” Money raised goes toward supporting the Center’s educational and sex-positive cultural programming. I thought these stats about last year’s event were interesting:
At last year’s event the Longest Time Spent Masturbating award was presented to a man who spent 8 hours and 40 minutes engaged in self-pleasuring; the women’s record has been unbroken since 2004, when a female participant masturbated for 6 hours and 30 minutes. The event’s Most Orgasms Award is held by a woman who came 49 times during the Live London Masturbate-a-Thon in 2006 (filmed for British Channel 4). The distance record, begun last year, is currently 36 inches, held by a male, though in that competition a woman ejaculator came in at second place.
You might also want to check out their Wank Blog. I’m not into Twitter, but I am very amused at their suggestion that people share “twittergasms” with the world. That is, since Twitter tells your every move, why not share JOSW ("Jacking off. So what?") or ICSW ("I came. So what?") in real-time? Again, I don’t get Twitter. But, if I did and I commonly told folks that I was doing such mundane things as folding laundry or going shopping for socks, then I’d be all over this.
At least in May I would. 
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Between Us, A Girl (Part 1 of 3)
She’s younger than you led me to believe.
Kristy arrives at the restaurant in the kind of exuberant rush that only comes from one’s twenties. Her face is a little flushed and she is having trouble deciding whether to put her extra large bag down before shaking our hands, or to shake our hands first, or perhaps even give us a hug and a kiss with the bag a less welcome fourth party. As you and I get up, she turns and the black leather bag strikes me firmly in the thigh. “Oops! Shit. Are you OK?” After a laughing apology, she puts the bag down, shakes my hand, and gives you a hug. She then plops down on the seat as if all the wind she has saved up for this occasion has been spent.
“What are we drinking?” she asks, patting you on the hand as the two of you scoot into the booth next to one another.
“Chardonnay,” I answer, sitting back down. The server brings over another wine glass, fills it, and is gone before any of us notice that we aren’t talking.
Silence. Awkward silence.
“Look! I brought a toothbrush!” Kristy says suddenly , pulling a red toothbrush from her bag. We all laugh, breaking the spell. Maybe now I can relax.
You raise your wine glass and propose a toast. “Here’s to new friends and new experiences!”
“And to things that go bump in the night!” adds Kristy, smiling.
Not to be outdone, I counter, “And to things that come in threes!”
“Threes? You mean like triplets?”
Everyone smiles and we drink. But then…
“Shortcakes. Or is that six?”
“Wise men.”
“Pawnbrokers’ balls!”
Over our salads, Kristy launches into a lengthy description of her position on Internet censorship, which touches on everything from her email habits to Renoir nudes on the Louvre web site to nude modeling for college art classes when she was still in school to playing with the libidos of the people in the class by walking over to them fully naked between poses and commenting on their work… and finally back to meeting you on the Net. She talks for what must be 15 minutes without stopping, moving from one topic to the next with an ease and rapidity that makes it all seem to make sense at the time. I look over at you and we both open our eyes wide as if to say, “Wow.” We smile and you reach across the table to hold my hand.
And so the dinner goes. We talk, laugh, drink more wine. We are sitting in one of those semi-circular booths where the seat wraps around the table. I am sitting on one end; you’re sitting on the other end; and Kristy is sitting back behind the table and between the two of us. There are plants and mirrors along the wall. There is just enough light for me to be able to tell that the tablecloth on our table is mint green.
For much of dinner, I feel as if I’ve split into two people. There’s the me that’s continuing to participate in the conversations we’re having — the current one that you started having something to do with movies. But then there’s this other me that’s watching, studying all three of us from some place away from the table. Some part of me is looking at all of us as actors in a play and it’s an odd feeling. What would that other me say about the two of you? I know you bought this deep blue dress especially for tonight. You wouldn’t let me see it until tonight. When I saw you in the restaurant lobby before dinner, it stopped me in my tracks. The dress isn’t overly dressy, but it shows off your legs and your beautiful shoulders. And the color is so nice with your auburn hair. What earrings are you wearing? The red glass ones from last summer’s arts festival. Poor man’s rubies.
And then there’s Kristy. She arrived wearing a short cotton slip dress, white with small flowers, and a denim jacket. On her feet are white socks and a pair of clunky black shoes. Her hair is short and dark. In this light, I can’t tell what color her eyes are. Her earrings are silver, with one extra loop passing through an extra hole in one ear. But she’s not such a rebel that she doesn’t shave her legs and pits. She’s not as curvy as you, but she’s definitely not boyish either. Before she sat down, I could tell she had nice round hips and in silhouette her breasts seem full and large for her frame. The two of you make an interesting pair.
“Can I have a bite of that?” Kristy asks you during the main course. “I love trout almondine.” But really, I think to myself, what she wants to do is play with your space. She scoots over next to you as you get a piece of fish and some sauce onto your fork. You don’t have to reach the fork out to her, as Kristy leans across the left side of your body toward the fork in your right hand. This move puts her head inches from your face— her hair close enough to smell, her cheek close to your lips— and her upper right arm just brushing your left breast. I take a sip of wine and study your face. Kristy looks up to see that I am watching her and winks.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Better, Better… A Little More to the Left
I seem to have everyone on the same page this morning! (I know. I was worried all of the new photos were going to go to waste if no one could find them.) There were two, parallel versions of this site running for the last couple of days as I moved everything over to the new blogging software, Expression Engine. So, some folks were seeing the old site with the static pages. And some folks were seeing the new site with a weird orange and yellow design. Neither was the right thing. But I seem to have figured out all of the new tags and have managed to get the homepage back to normal. Comments are still broken as I still need to rework that template for the new tagging. But I’ll try to get that back as soon as I can, bearing in mind that I’m supposed to be working 60 hours this week so I can go away on vacation next week. It’ll all be worth it in the end. At least I am almost confident that when I hit the “Save and publish” button this time, I won’t get a server error telling me to go screw… which is a snapshot of my last umpteen months with my old software. More later. Enjoy the sunshine!
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Trial and Terror Revisited
Well, there’s a bold leap for you. I just deleted my Movable Type and its database. And I’ve installed Expression Engine. And… I have no clue what I’m doing so far. And no time to figure it out before going to bed. Oh, that’s going to give me some pleasant dreams now, isn’t it? Wait. I just managed to import all of my old entries and get the images connected. Sigh! Unfortunately, I don’t have time to figure out how to switch the design template back to what I had before. Too many tags and I have too much to do. At least I got this far.
Saturday, April 05, 2008
More Photos
I admit it. I messed up the April Fools theme photos. They didn’t post automatically and I didn’t notice until it was too late. But I’ve got the next month all taken care of ahead of time. So here are the upcoming Photo of the Day theme weeks:
- April Showers (April 6 to 12) Not rain. The other showers. And bathtubs. While it’s raining outside, you might as well get clean.
- Helping Hands (April 13 to 19) Actually, it’s more like helping handjobs. If you get inspired, go help someone with your hands.
- Spring Flowers (April 20 to 26) After April showers, you get May flowers. OK, fine. I’m a week early.
- Say Cheese (April 27 to May 3) Photos taken of themselves. Why else do bathrooms and closet doors have such large mirrors? Last chance to see all of these coeds’ dorm rooms before they go home for the summer.
You may now resume your spring cleaning.
Recent Entries
DIYHorny
Haiku
April, Come She Will
Between Us, A Girl (Part 1 of 3)
Better, Better… A Little More to the Left
Trial and Terror Revisited
More Photos
Wake Up, Sleepers
New Photos, New Words
Archive Calendar
| April 2008 | ||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| S | M | T | W | T | F | S |
| 30 | 31 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |
| 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 |
| 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 |
| 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 |
| 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 1 | 2 | 3 |
Archives by Date
May 2008April 2008
March 2008
December 2007
November 2007
October 2007
September 2007
June 2007
May 2007
April 2007
Search Me!
Register
Member List
Massachusetts
Fascinated by language, drawn to art, and utterly amused by everyone's naughty bits. Beyond that, I'm hundreds of years old and I live on an island. Read the play.
