If anyone speaks a language that I don’t decides to introduce me to a friend and then tell them about me in whatever their native language is they should be forced into ass to mouth with me followed by a particularly well aimed facial shot to the eye… Fuck.
So last night we did it in the butt again. Oh boy did we do it. It was pretty hot. Well at first it wasn’t but it got there.
The night started by deciding that we would watch porn. So we went to the porn store and got what turned out to be a very disappointing DVD. One of the leading ladies in the movie looked a bit like The Joker from Batman... Only with smaller breasts… I Digress.
Anywho I was playing with her junk during said movie to try and make the mood better. I didn’t know this but because of her Vulvodynia she couldn’t feel much last night. She made it seem like she was horny but later confessed to me that she wasn’t and didn’t seem to think she could get in the mood. She was holding out for the possibility but it didn’t look like it was going to happen.
We got to talking and she told me that to turn her on I shouldn’t necessarily touch her vahj at all. But according to her I was too late to turn her on that night. Oh how I proved her wrong.
I’ll spare the specifics to say that we had some hard butt sex. It was good. We both came fairly quickly and then cleaned up and cuddled. Which brings us to today.
She woke up feeling a pretty bad pain in her side. I poked where her appendix is and she said,” OUCH, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!!!”
I replied,” I’ll bet there is something wrong with your appendix.”
Long story short we’re now in the hospital spending the night because she, in fact, does not have an appendix problem but an air bubble in her colon. Apparently it’s because of an infection but I can’t help but think that last night’s foray might not have helped much.
Anybody with medical expertise have anything to say? I’d love to hear it.
So I just got the news that my grandmother is moving into an Alzheimers care facility… This woman was my mother for the majority of my pubescence and now she’s gone off the deep end… What the fuck is this shit? She has had one of the hardest lives I’ve ever heard of and get’s nothing for it.
She grew up in a small mining town in Nevada with a father that was the town policeman, justice of the peace, judge, lawyer and mine foreman. She loved him dearly but he died when she was 10 in 1933. Her mom married four times after that and each of those husband (who had life insurance policies) “mysteriously” died. She even had a favorite stepdad. He was a barber. She still has his scissors.
After her childhood she had to move to Reno to go to high school. You have to understand that on the roads we drive on today with the speeds of the cars we drive today it takes three hours to go from her home town to Reno. She was 14 and she lived that far away from her family. High school was just a blur of bad grades and poor social graces. She eventually got her diploma and went to work for 25 cents an hour at a stationary store waiting for the next thing to come along. And he did
His name was Paul. He was 20 and she was 17. They “courted” for a month or two and she married him. I later found out that she only married him because he was there and he got her out of Reno. He beat her… a lot. He would always buy a new car and sell it just about every month just to look cool. It put them really really far into debt. He was a bastard. This was the only man she was ever with…
Then in 1940 My uncle came along. Then my other uncle (who had fetal alcohol syndrome). Then my mom. My mom was choked by my retarded uncle when she was a baby so they had to put him into a home. Later her eldest son grew up, had three children with his wife, and left them. She had to deal with her three grandchildren being raised to hate her because of what her son did.
My mother actually got a hold of him by phone about a year ago. He was living happily with his third wife in San Fransisco. He felt virtually nothing about what he had done. What a fucker.
My mother grew up, left home to go to nursing school, graduated, and married my dad in 1974. Her father (the abusive one) died in 1975 of hepatitis. My grandmother had to take car of him while he was sick.
She was the only working one in her house at this point. She worked for the phone company as the manager of the switch board operators. This was a terrible job. She was absolutely hated by her employees because she was forced to keep such strict rules. She had to fire anyone that was more than 30 seconds late even once. No matter the situation. If there was an ice storm it didn’t matter. If a child was sick it didn’t matter. she still had to fire them…
And then my mother had children. Me and my brother. We were the only ones of her five grand children that she ever knew. She came to hate my brother as he grew up because he reminded her of her late husband. He likes cars. That’s pretty much the only correlation. She likes me though. It’s nice to have.
And now we come to the end of her life. It’s been hard… I used to think that everybody catches a break every once in a while but now I don’t know. I would have thought a woman with a life like hers would at least be able to die with some dignity but I guess not. You might say that she still has the chance to die happily but I worked in Alzheimers care for a year. I know what happens to people when they die of Alzheimers. It’s not dignified. It’s not happy. It’s just death.
There never really is anything dignified about death. There is no music. There are no lights. There are no fireworks. You just stop breathing. Then it’s over. You can kinda tell when someone dies though. If you’re in the room it gets kinda cold all of the sudden… Fuck.
I have to say that i fucking rock at selling TV’s. Getting that big sale is a lot like a one night stand. However, with a sale there is no orgasm but there is that mystery. The salesman or “man” (In the one night stand sense) has no Idea when it will end but whenever it does it will feel good.
Then there is the person buying the TV or the “woman”. Afterwards the person feels like they may have rushed into things and often feel a bit of regret afterwards. Either way they’re stuck with the experience.
We salesmen, however, don’t mean anything by it. We hope that you enjoy your experience during and after but sometimes it’s gotta be a little dirty. Sometimes we have to undercut the competition. Sometimes we have to promise things that we might not be able to uphold. And sometimes we can rock your world with what we can give you. And sometimes we just have to give you what we’ve got right in the ass.
It’s a cruel world. In the end we all get what we tried for… Fuck.
I went to the beach a couple of weeks ago and I saw a piece of driftwood float in from a distance and I felt jealous. Maybe it was because I was drunk but nevertheless I was envious of it.
I was on a camping trip trying to recoup from my weeks of working three different jobs and just blow off some steam. I had an epiphany during this wood siting and I teared up a little. I realized that I had been working so hard not to go under in society that I had missed out on a lot along the way. I’ve never been out of the country. I’ve only been to a few states in the US. I’ve never done any of this stuff because I’ve always been really really busy working and working and working.
I looked at this piece of driftwood and thought,” Why can’t I be like that driftwood?”
It just floats. It was once part of a forest I’m assuming. and then it became part of one of the most beautiful things the world has ever known; the ocean. There is so much out there that this log has seen. It’s been in a place where it couldn’t see land. I’ve never seen any of it. I’ve experienced so little that this simple piece of driftwood has seen.
I think I need to get out more… Fuck
So a while ago I wrote a blog that had to do with the man’s role in being the significant other who’s partner has Vulvodynia. I’m touching that one up today. My significant other is in the middle of a flair up and it’s no fun.
Last night we were watching a movie in bed and it started to get really hot and heavy between us. I got up in the missionary position, put it in, and she started crying. Needless to say it sucked.
I guess I’m writing this to say that it never ends. It gets better but I don’t think it ever ends. You get through it though.
Anywho I gotta say I’m proud of myself that I don’t think I was a dick. I hope not…. She didn’t say I was anyway.
I learned this morning that it hurts to cook hash browns naked. I’ve done it before but this is the first time that the splash has ever gotten it’s revenge. I just dropped some grated potato into the pan and the oil got me right on the foreskin scar. It’s hard to explain that pain to someone that’s never experienced it. The penis has evolved to not feel a pain for a long time. Instead it hurts a lot but not for long. So you get this burning sensation that you couldn’t believe for a fraction of a second. It’s pretty sweet.
Anywho this pain thing made me think about a few times when I could remember the situation I was in having the very real possibility of death or extreme pain and I mentally felt nothing.
I remember a time when a friend of mine was driving me home from high school. We were driving along a windy road on the hill I lived on. This guy loved to drive really fast on the hill and the only problem was he drove a Buick and the road was wet. That happens a lot seeing as how I live in Oregon. Anyhow this guy took curve a little too fast right as a truck was coming around the bend. The only way he ever made this corner was to go into the other lane that was currently occupied. So he started swerving to get out of the way of the truck. And he’d swerve left… Over there was a house at the bottom of a sudden embankment drop. Then to the right… Over there was a ditch. He kept doing this and at one point I distinctly remember having my mind just go numb. It happened right when I thought we were going into the house off the edge. We would most likely die or be seriously injured if we went off the edge and I remember not caring. I remember having an out of body experience and just staring at the car from the outside. We ended up landing in the ditch and a back hoe that was driving by for some reason got us out.
I had the same feeling the first time I had sex. Not for the same reason obviously. I think it was because I was so nervous. Oh well… Fuck
A couple of blog entries ago I wrote about the rat race. About how we work to get vacation that we have to pay for with more work.That’s still true but with this new job I think I’ve figured out how people do it. They get jobs that they like. I’ve got one. I love my new job.
I’m in sales. I sell TV’s at an electronics store that I guarantee each one of you reading this has been to. I love that job. I think it has something to do with the thrill of the hunt and the whole psychological aspect of it. I figured out that anyone can sell anyone a TV. My job isn’t to sell them a TV. My job is to sell them the idea that they need my TV. It’s a thrilling hunt believe it or not. I don’t think I would mind working this job for a long time… Fuck.
So here it is.
I found out that you can in fact move during anal sex. Just make sure that you and your ladyfriend are experienced enough by the time that you try it. Also use lot’s and lot’s and lot’s of anal lube. It’s good stuff. You’ll slide in and out like no other. it’s pretty amazing.
Today I have to go to Salem, OR to play the bass guitar. I live in Portland… Yet another thing I just don’t feel like doing. Don’t get me wrong I love playing but since I’m in the national guard band I’m required to play this because it’s the military ball.
The military ball is basically a time that comes around once a year so that all of the officers in the Oregon national guard can get together, get drunk, attempt to do the whitest dancing possible, and all this while telling each other how awesome they are for being officers. And I, the lowly enlisted bitch, get to entertain them while they drunkenly dance and talk about how stupid everyone is for not being officers.
These are the same people that not a week ago told me I had to cancel wedding planning with the inlaws to drive down there and listen to a seminar on how to become an officer. I made it perfectly clear to them that I have absolutely no interest in becoming an officer by simply not showing up. Nothing is going to happen to me because of it but I’m still just a little pissed off that these people think they have some sort of dogmatic power over me. I don’t mind following orders when I’m on duty but when I’m off duty these people need to learn to chill out or just go fuck themselves.
Now I have to go down there in three hours and dance like a little grinder monkey for these people. I feel like a whore. People say porn and hookers objectify women. I say everything objectifies something. The only difference is that hookers and porn stars are women and men being objectified for their genitalia and I’m a dude being turned into a whore for my ability to play music. They can do what they want with me without so much as a thought that I’m human… FUCK!
