12 steps - 9.

Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

Is it too late for a refund?

protection

Twitter now asks 'what's happening?" instead of "What are your doing?" Apparently the latter was too intrusive.

God give us the strength to protect you from yourself.

love

Those Eyes & Those Lips brought to you by PornHub

12 steps - 8. amends

Should I make amends for all the things I've done?
For all my sins & transgressions;
should I get on my knees and ask for compassion?

To spill forth my penitence upon her soft white breasts.

Worship at her temple.

salacious sunday - the psalms

Surely goodness and loving kindness shall follow me all the days of my life,

~The Psalms 23: 6

12 steps - 7. humbly ask to remove my shortcomings

She sobbed into her clenched fists, the pillow scrunched up against her face. Passion consumed the room and flayed across her bare buttocks, red, raw and intense. Her skin was so soft. Her smell acute and piercing like the wild aroma of a meadow in the middle of Spring.
As I struck her again, and the sound of the leather belt ricocheted around the confines of the bedroom, the walls glared down at us like silent sentinels to bare witness of the transgressions being played out before them.

porn for friday - what are you waiting for?

salacious sunday - the psalms

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
    Why are you so far from helping me, and from the words of my groaning?

~The Psalms 22: 1-2

porn for friday - Sockerdricka

ignorance II

"What the hell do I want to go to a place like Mombasa?"

"I'm sort of scared about going out there, but the wife is really nervous. I just see myself in a pot of boiling water with all these natives dancing around me."

-Mel Lastman, (former) Mayor of Toronto

strange days.

It has been a strange month. Winter has not been able to wrap it's cold arms around this city. The snow that fell as the new year unfolded with the turn of the calendar page, has all but melted leaving behind patches of brown tinted grass. Like a sleeping cat that does not like to be woken, the lawn is slowly turning green. It just does't seem right. At this time of year, the world should be monotones of white, grey, ash and brown. Now colour has grudgingly made an appearance.


It's not even cold. I remember January as the desolate month. The frigid month. After all the excesses of Christmas has been packed away for another year. After the reality of our carelessness and reckless over-indulgence has set in as evident by the expected rise in health club memberships and suicides. After all the credit cards come calling and the number preceding the decimal point in your bank statement seems to be missing a digit or two - January is forsaken and somber. Like a drunk who has just woken up from his last bender. Days so cold when plumes of steam belch from car exhaust pipes to hang like shrouds in the air so brittle I feel I could reach out and snap it. Some call it global warming, some call it a natural cycle. It's difficult to argue with either. But between the pestilences, the wars, the poverty and famines. Earthquakes, floods, volcanic eruptions and disease. There is an impending sensation that things are building up to a climax. Strange days indeed. 

salacious sunday - trois

The fruit of the spirit is love, joy and peace.

~Galatians, 5:22