if it was easy

   would it be worth it?

break time

titillating tuesday - ignorance is pleasure

Women who despise their own body assume a submissive position, and are therefore much less likely to stand up against the culture that tells them that their breasts are to be always hidden, and are only to be used for their mate's pleasure.
~unknown author (random internet search)

the sun is a light bulb

The sun has burned away the clouds again. It's getting ready to sear the earth for yet another day. I think this is the third day in a row where temperatures have peaked above 26C. It's too early for this.
Day eight. I wish the nights would revolve as quickly as the days. Sleep evades me, keeping just out of reach, like a hummingbird at a flower. I miss her breathing, her warmth against my arm, my shoulder, my thigh. The absence of voices hang between these walls and presses down like a blanket. Television does nothing to dispel the loneliness. 

Music calms the waters of my soul yet leaves behind little ripples of emptiness. Her distant voice is the shore of my longing.

for the breast prices in town

the ugly truth

Over sized sunglasses on ugly people are like 17" chromes on a Lada.


No matter the glitter, you just can't hide the faults

random thoughts

If you think obesity is overrated, 2 million Americans weigh more than 550 lbs. You don’t need statistics or studies to prove this. Take a trip to your local Costco or Wal-Mart.

May was masturbation month. Did you know:

• John Kellogg (yes that cereal guy) was against masturbation. He was among several Christian advocates that pushed for routine circumcision of males to deter masturbation.
• In 1879, the Spermatorrhea bandage was invented. It kept the penis tightly bound making it impossible to have an erection.
  
• In 1994, former Surgeon General Jocelyn Elder was dismissed by President Clinton after she stated that masturbation “is something that is part of human sexuality and its part of something that perhaps should be taught.”
  

Slogan on the back of a windshield repair company van - "I luv gravel trucks"

2 reason why Chrysler is in the state that it's in:

1. Replacement alloy rim for 2001 Neon - $400
   
2. Replacement rear brake flex line for 2001 Neon - $365
   

Why do we always blame the the Koreans & the Japanese.

awake

Green. Green walls awash in a muted green glow. Green is symbolic of renewel, health, growth. Green is envy and jealousy. Green is harmony and balance. 

The small winking green light on the smoke alarm just outside the bedroom door flashes every 10 seconds. At first I kept thinking it was lightning. I listened for the accompanying rumble of thunder but the quiteness pressed down like a veil. Like clockwork. 6 times every minute. 120 times every hour it winked, a sentinel keeping watch over this slumbering house. 

The green numbers on the small clock radio beside my head display 1:47. There is a halo of green that surrounds her head beside me. It's from the small green charge light on the phone. The First breathes deeply, evenly. I lie so still that I can feel the comforter rise and fall with each breath. I try to match my breathing with hers. It is a faint hope that syncopation will hasten the edges of sleep that has remained tantalizingly out of reach, closer and closer. It has evaded me for the last few hours, flitting away like an annoying fly with each desperate lunge. 

I can barely make out the fan blades overhead as they rotate silently on abundantly greased bearings in the luminous green light. Scattered thoughts keep me company. The solace of her warmth is like an extra blanket. But it is the breath of sleep that I desire the most. Harmony & balance between the enveloping arms of sleep and my woman.

dreaming

Why are my dreams so crowded? Lately they've been filled with people whose faces are murky and voices foggy by the weight of sleep. I seldom recall my dreams in detail when I awake. The images slowly waft away like spirits as I scrabble to the surface of conciousness. Who are these people and why do they crowd that insantient time of shades & shadows. Carl Jung believed that dreams were a window yo your unconciosness. Part of Jung's theory is that all things can be viewed as paired opposites. For e.g. male/female, good/evil. Thusly the opposite of ego being counterego or 'the shadow'.

Each incremental pulse of my heart pushes fresh blood into my brain, through my body, into my cock. She sighs and wriggles her body into mine. It is a subconscious gesture. She does it every morning in that fuzzy period between sleep and wakefulness. My cock will twitch against her bare skin. Sometimes she will giggle. 

self centred

answering your emails - to go

BARRISTER MIKE WILLIAMS ASSOCIATE
                             LEGAL & SOLICITORS
                             26 SOLEDARITE RUE DUE COMMERCE Rd
                             BLOCK 2 FLAT 3 BP 2564 LOME TOGO.
 Attention : N Geeta
 
I am Barrister Mike Williams, a solicitor at law,personal attorney to Eng.P.B.Geeta,a national Of your country,who used to be a contractor and importer here in Lome Togo. Herein after shall be referred to as my client. On the 26th of december 2003,my client,his wife and their only daughter were involved in a ghastly Plane Crash in a village called Adjarra near Porto Novou after take off from Cotonou in Benin Republic where they went for a Concert . All occupants of the plane unfortunately lost their lives. Since then I have made several enquiries to locate any of my client's extended  family/relatives,To no avail.F

or more on the plane crash log on to
 
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/3348109.stm
(http://www.cnn.com/2003/WORLD/africa/12/26/benin.crash/index.html)
 
After these several unsuccessful attempts, I decided to track his last name over the Internet, to locate any member of his family hence I contacted you. I have contacted you to assist me in repatriating the fund valued at US$8.5 million left behind by my client before it gets confiscated or declared unserviceable by the Security Finance Firm where this huge amount was deposited.
 The said Security Finance Company has issued me a notice to provide the next of kin or have his account confiscated within the next twenty one official working days. Since I have been unsuccessful in locating the relatives for over one and half years now, I seek the consent to resent you too as the next of kin to the deceased since you have the same last names, so that the proceeds of this Account can be paid to you.

Therefore, on receipt of your positive response, we shall then discuss the sharing ratio and modalities for transfer. I have all necessary information and legal documents needed to back you up for claim. All I required from you is your honest cooperation to this project to enable us conclude it smoothly. I do guarantee you that this transaction dose not in any way attracts risk. It will be executed under a legitimate arrangement that will protect you from any breach of the law. Upon the receipt of your response i will furnish y

ou with detailed clarification as it relates to this mutual benefit transaction.
 
KINDLY EMAIL ME AFTER GOING THROUGH THIS MAIL.
Best Regards.
Mike Williams Esq.
Lome Togo West Africa

_________________________________________________________________

Dear Mr Mike Williams Esq,

Having gone through this email, I am obliged to divulge, in all honesty, that the resentment is mutual. The transaction dose that I have partaken off has rendered me temporarily with a moment of clarity which I am hoping will fade rather quickly. 

In the meantime, I have found that my present mode of transportation, although leaving me feeling a little, shall we say, violated at times, is quite sufficient. Perhaps, instead of the US $8.5 million I could bother you for a gel seat?

Sincerely,

~N 

the mysterious disappearence of the green spring - part I

...it was under the entertainment centre

answering your emails - wheeling & dealing

My sincere Greetings to you in the sweet name of Jesus Christ.

I am very happy to see you in my prayer however we do not know to each other and living in a far away countries.

my name is George Velpula and living at Andhra Pradesh in India. Would you please allow me to share some more words with you?

Once upon a time, I was a Cruel, Thief and misused the Christians and Chain smoker and great sinner but I came to the saving knowledge of God by his grace!

One day a Christian friend forced me to attend a small Christian meeting but I attended unwillingly. There I heard a great message from the Bible (Mark 7:20-23and 2nd. Corin.5:17). I so trembled there by hearing the message and felt that God spoke to me. Then I so became interested to know more about God so I bought a small New Testament and read a many times carefully and realized that I was a great sinner and need to be saved. I found the saviour in the words and confessed all my sins and accepted Jesus Christ into my life then I was baptized by immersion according to the Bible ( Acts 2:38, 41, 8:38-39 and Mark 16:16). And I got great joy which I never had been.

Now God gave me a noble job of preaching the word of God, and winning souls for his kingdom. I am preaching and teaching the word of God to theTribals , Muslims , Hindus and Other back-word communities in the Un-reached areas which do not have Electricity and proper roads. I have no any Travel facilities and I walk several miles every day to preach the word of God.

It is my humble request to you if possible, please do help me to have a small two wheeler (a bicycle or small two wheeler to reach and preach the Good News in more villages every week. it is a only request not command. if you are able kindly do so(Gal.6:9).Have mercy on us You may kindly send your kind hearted gift by Western Union money transfer outlet and when you send please let me know its secret number.
And we are going to bed without food many a times. We trust in God that he will provide for us. Please pray for my poor family and Ministry.

Looking forward to hear from you if possible soon,

Yours sincerely in his wondrous Mission,

George.Velpula

Evangelist.

____________________________________________________

Dear Mr. Velpula,
Thank you for your interest in me. While I am flattered and somewhat humbled by your passion and servitude, I fear I am unable to concede to your request.

Galatians 6:9 teaches us that "And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not". 2 Corinthians 5:17 goes onto to state that "Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new".

I firmly believe that by the time this email has been sowed several times over and the faint of heart have not passed away, a new bicycle shall you reap by the vigour of your endevours.

Sincerely,
Djierke

pigs in zen

I'm feeling a little disgruntled. Like a pig that's lost it's voice. Sugar doesn't help. Neither does the Vaseline.

Yesterday, I turned on the TV so that I could turn my self off while I went about my morning ablations. As I flicked through the selections looking for something suitably mind-numbing to dress by, I noticed that certain channels were not working. So I did the most technical thing a person can do. I reset the satellite receiver. Then I turned on the TV and sighed in dismay as the channels still displayed it's invaluable error message that only acne-faced kids with multiple acronyms following their names can decipher - Error: 002. Then I checked the signal strength. A green bar and a deafening tone that scared the Jesus out of the cat, screamed that it was at 97%.
Great. This helps. A lot.
So I did the next best technical thing I was capable off. I went outside and stared at the satellite dish. Maybe if I glared at it long enough it would reach out and touch the thing-a-ma-jig that supposedly circles the earth a zillion miles away and send that all important signal back to my receiver. I have to practice my telekinesis a little more. I think I fell asleep during that class.

Plan C. Go online and chat with Preston H from Brno. It went something like this:

me: Hello, a few of my television channels are not working. I get most, but a few of the specialty channels are blank.
Preston H: Hello and thank you for contacting your [Almighty, Omnipotent, Omnipresent, Satellite Television Provider] can you press and hold down the power button please.
me: I already did that about 10 minutes ago
Insert long pause here. Seems that my answer did not compute with Preston H's Problem Resolution Procedure flow chart
Preston H: do you have an error code
me: Error 002. I checked the signal strength and it's at 97%.
Insert another long pause. Now he's flipping through pages furiously
Preston H: let me access your account.
another long pause. So long that I had time to think. And then it struck me. Last night, I powered off the second satellite receiver in the basement. The one with the authentication card in it. So I run downstairs, power the box on, turn on the TV and Presto! we have contact!. I run upstairs, check the chat window, still no response, reset the second box, and Voila!!! we have a signal. Return back to the laptop
me: The channels are working now.
Preston H: That's good. Thank you for subscribing to [Almighty, Omnipotent, Omnipresent, Satellite Television Provider]. Is there anything else I can help you with today?
me: no

I want Preston H's job. I want to look at a flow chart with arrows that say If, Yes, No. I don't want the 35 + emails a day. Or 2 hour conference calls with Action Items, Power Point decks & spreadsheets with embedded macros. Nor the 10-11 hour days for 5 days a week just so I can have the weekend off. I do not want accountability, to-do's, BAU's & DOU's. I'd like to take Change Management and Incident Management and de-briefs and place them in a rocket to space. Powered by synergies and deliverables. All I want is to follow the arrows, like paint-by-numbers or follow the dots until a clown face appears in all it's grinning glory.

Just like a pig in zen*

©Jane’s Addiction

12:24

I cannot shut down my mind. Like an old black & white reel, jagged fragments of my day spool in an endless loop. Images crackle and jump accompanied by snippets of conversations and random thoughts.

It is as quiet as death and dark as a womb. The silence so complete that the only sound is the soft rush of air from the furnace through the floor vent. The drapes billow outward, the fabric quivering ghost-like along the warm draft. It reminds me of the days as a little boy, playing hide and seek. Secured by the innocence of a child, I believed that I had blended into the curtains, despite the fact that my feet were still visible. I would stand as still as I could, trying to control my panting, with the damp heat of my breath washing back onto my face. My chest would hurt. The hurried anticipation would slither down to my crotch and I would almost cry with the insane urge to pee. Sometimes the soft touch of the curtains across my face would give me an erection, my small cock pushing urgently against my shorts. Embarrassment, stirred with passion would flush over me as I hear my sisters footsteps approach.

Then the fridge starts up again, it grumbles and rattles to life in a violent penetration of the senses. The sound annoys me. It has interrupted a rather interesting segment of the movie in my head. I am straddled across the chest of The First. Her breasts cushion my buttocks like a velvet cushion on a throne. Her eyes are closed, her mouth thrown open. Stroking my cock against her shimmering tongue and lips. The drone of the vibrator undulates from loud to soft adding a harsh soundtrack to the degrading performance being acted out in the dimmed light of this bedroom. I start to get an erection again, this time my cock is bigger and harder than that of the little boy in the curtains so many years ago.

I reach between my shorts to stroke myself and turn over. The bed is cold. As frigid and lifeless as a morgue. The sheets are stiff and unwieldy as if they were brought inside from the crisp winter night outside. My erection softens almost immediately, hastened by the emptiness and indifference of the empty bed. Loneliness is enveloping. Solitude a quiet companion until she returns. It never used to be this way. Once upon a time, solitude would comfort me like the arms of a friend. But her constant presence has been a familiar practice. Like wriggling your toes. Her laugh, her voice, her scent. She is a habit I am unwilling to break. A customary routine that is part and parcel of my day.

1:17

grey gazing

Sitting in traffic, my thoughts drift along with the clouds of vapor belching from the slowly moving cars ahead. Like a funeral procession for snails we creep along the frozen tarmac coloured a dirty white from the salt and drifting snow.

What's the difference between partly cloudy with sunny periods and partly sunny with cloudy periods? The world around me is reduced to monotones of greys and whites. Even the evergreens, cloaked in snow have taken on a grey-green tint for which Debbie Travis must have a creative name for.

I would like to be a meteorologist. I'd like to throw weather darts against a weather dart board and fuck up the day of the general paying public. That's how it's done isn't it?

Deep within the bowels of some indistinct building, Larry passes through two separate security doors. The steel doors hiss open and close with a small puff of wind with each swipe of his electronic pass. He is carrying a precious load balanced precariously on a precisely engineered tray. There is still a long sterile corridor through which he must walk down. His footsteps echo and crack against the glossy walls. His destination is one last door ahead of him looming larger with each hurried step. Fluorescent tubes crackle and hum above. His mission is almost over. Just one more swipe of his card. The Card.

Larry bares his Card with pride and determination. It took him years of peddling and pandering to fat men in starched Moore's suits and thin-lipped women dressed in black slacks and suit jackets

(Fairweather's, 40% off)

to get this point. He carries this Card around his neck like a rosary. Stroking it several times a day in a mantra of self-admiration and gratification.

The last door swished open with the same hiss of pneumatic jacks and well oiled gears as the previous entryways. He blinks to adjust his eyes to the muted glow of the large almost barren room.

Heads turn toward Larry and voices erupt in a symphony of praise and joy

"Hey, coffee's here"

"Man, that took you long enough"

"Did they have chocolate glaze?"

"Damn! I love the smell of Timmies in the morning"

Larry beamed. A smile as wide as his chubby cheeks would allow made his face glow with happiness. One of them approached him to take the precious cargo off his hands. Fred was like that. An endearing man with an unassuming face, his hair had long abandoned him for the deep recesses of the bathtub drain. But he wore the remaining strands like streamers at a birthday party. With a little effort, the dark strips contrasted well against his shiny pate like an abstract painting. He held before him a pointed object, sharply tipped on one end and feathered on the other. It was a dart. Not just any dart. The Dart.

"Here you go Larry. You know what to do".

Yes of course Larry knew what to do. Today, Wednesday, just like every other Wednesday for the past seven years, it was his turn to throw The Dart against the Weather Board. It was his turn to make sure that this small light weight object, flew from his fingers with precision that belied the weight of the world in it's missile-like shape. It was time to predict the weather.

Larry took a deep breath as a chorus of angels erupted inside his head. Mozart's Ave verum corpus in Technicolor-colour. Larry approached The Board...

super freak (or where should I hide this microphone)

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simple things

It starts with the way she lays her head on my belly with her hair splayed out around her like a veil. I like the way she takes my flaccid cock into her mouth and that simple way she has of swirling her tongue around it's sensitive tip. The way my cock grows erect and hard under her manipulations. I like to place my hand upon her head in order to pin her down while I buck my hips slowly. This causes my cock to glide in and out of her warm mouth, lubricated by her spittle. Sometimes I don't move. And neither does she. My cock rests inside her, entombed within her mouth, her lips clamped around the shaft. I know she has her eyes closed.

I like to pat her cheek so that she slips my cock into the crevice between her teeth and the inside of her cheek. I like to stroke the bulge there, sometimes slap it. Her moans run like rivulets of a current down my hard member to tickle my balls and up my spine. I like how she will sometimes trace the tracks of her spit with her finger, exploring the nether darkened region that's just beyond my testicles. I like how she slips me from my mouth to follow her finger with her tongue, softly caressing my testicles with a velvet touch.

I like how she strokes me with the tip of my cock just touching the tip of her tongue. She likes when she tastes my pre-cum, flicking her tongue to catch the dew-like drops. Moaning softly for more as her strokes speed up. And when my cum explodes from me in a spray of orgasmic completion, I like how she slurps up every drop, licking every sticky residue as it sloshes around her mouth. I like how she continues to suckle me until my cock returns to it's flaccid state to slip out of her mouth. I like to stroke her hair as she places her hot cheek on my heaving belly and sighs softly. I know she is licking her lips, savouring my taste. I like how she thanks me and says I love you, dreamily.

Such simple things.

bring out your pencils

Sometimes paint by numbers is just not enough. So boring really if you keep getting all the colours right. Sometimes one needs a challenge. Something more, well...deeper if you will.

After all the pages have been coloured in and you're still looking for a place to point that pencil - well then point it HER-E

gratuitous memorandum (or thank god for happy sluts)