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Reflections on an Indian Summer

Out of Sight but Not Out of Mind!

I think about this blog every day…I miss it.  I am consumed by academic writing at the present and it literally bleeds me out of creativity and sunshine and kittens and everything warm and fuzzy in this world.  A bit dramatic I know, but when you are constantly at the mercy of due dates, grades, peel-your-face-off boring textbooks, and all other manifestations of academia, whatcha gonna do?  Enough whining, I am boring myself…

I have been contemplating my focus for this blog.  I usually just write whatever is on my mind but trust me, you do not want to read about my studies!  A friend told me that I am selling myself short by only writing about sex and such and that I have a lot more to offer and  I have to admit that I haven’t had much action lately and I find that I am in need of some serious research material!  I have a liaison planned for this next week and I am so looking forward to the Breakfast of Champions!

In the meantime, I have been noticing lately that there seems to be this trend for women to have fat from their ass injected into their lips…!  Seriously.  I have personally viewed a few myself and all that I can say is: What the hell?!  Then it finally occurred to me that women are putting their pussies on their face.  Are we really that sexually terrified?  Is sex really that dangerous that you have to wear on your face what belongs down yonder?  When you spot a pair of these babies you cannot help but stare and it isn’t because they are so drop-dead gorgeous, it’s because you are looking at some chick with her pussy on her face.  This trend has been the cat’s meow for awhile (hee hee) and I believe that I have figured it out: just think about a woman performing fellatio with those large, full, soft, and wet protuberances, and you see what I mean?  Another way for plastic surgeons to make money while exploiting the age-old biological response to the pussy…as for me, I’m keeping mine between my legs where it belongs.

Ahhh, that felt sooo good!

Loophole

Loophole

Life is a Loophole

Created for those

Lost souls in need of

A crash course in

Humility.

 

Email DWD

 

 

Stop Thinking!

I awoke to the sounds of life continuing to occur despite all of my attempts to set a new sleep marathon record.  Twenty-two years ago, drinking ceased to be an option and my FWB pool is a little under-stocked, so sleeping was the winner by default.  Allowing myself a break from the world and its blue-pill promises, I was in need of something that could and would take my focus from my thinking and bring it back into my body.  Sex is great for this but alas, I am in a bit of a drought at present.  The solution to this set of present circumstances is the last thing that I really want to do: get out and connect with the rest of humanity.  It amazes me how just showing up is such a magic potion for the single-soul and I will procrastinate, hibernate, and isolate but eventually I will go and be among the rest of my kind.  Today is a gift and I must participate in my own life.  Scarcity is an illusion and the day is filled with promise.  Now to get my ass up and out the door…

Never Saw it Coming

I woke to the promise of a beautiful day: sunny, clear, pay-day, and Friday!  I got dressed in something cheerful and feminine and knowing that I looked good and felt great, I zipped out into the day.  My office routine began at a pleasurable pace and I was feeling damn good about life and work when in walks the financial management team that was slated to present investment options to our staff.  No big deal until they started talking about money!  Yikes!  My brain started a trip down Memory Lane that is the equivalent of Nightmare on Elm Street and I was completely blind-sided!  I proceeded to wallow in a soup of self-pity, regret, and if-onlys….needless to say, I allowed the rest of the day to escape by battling fiercely with myself over all of the reasons that I have to be grateful: health, home, career, children, friends, sex (although, not too much going on right now), writing, running, car, etc.  The issue at hand is that when I most need to find acceptance, that is when it is the most elusive.  My financial disasters of the past are due to many reasons, none of which exist today but I still can carry them around like a bag of garbage, just stinking-up the whole joint until not even I can stand another minute.  So in the spirit of recycling, I am donating all of my failed dreams and aspirations of the past to this blog so that I may carry-on with the current and future plans I have been putting into action.

Stay tuned…

Featured post

Hey You! Is There Anybody Out There…?

Oh blog, how I have missed you!  I began a master’s program in the beginning of July and I am suffering from writer’s constipation.  I am in the midst of academic writing and it is literally sapping every bit of creativity that I try to muster.  I had thought that I would not suffer this malaise due to the program concentration but that has not been the case.  What is it about higher learning that academia insists on leveling every single interesting facet of a field of study into an infinitesimal liturgy of boring details…?  Just writing this paragraph, I am boring myself!

At times like these, I wonder why I am doing this to myself once again?  I enjoy learning, however, I do not enjoy the hair-splitting that occurs in seeking a mastery of a certain subject.  Can’t we just go with our gut and use out natural passion and desire to pursue in-depth knowledge of the discipline instead of having a forced litany of classes and papers and tedium and grades and….

I miss you…

Techno-tards Anonymous…

 

What single event has the power to turn an otherwise intelligent, mostly rational and fun-loving human into a shrieking, crying, and moaning female?  What has the capability to literally wipe-out years of creativity, memories, and other important stuff in the blink of an eye?  What rivals the cost of a down-payment on an automobile in attempts to restore the damn thing?  If you guessed a satanic computer virus or worm or bot, or whatever the hell it’s called these days, you would be correct!

On a typical Sunday, I switched on my laptop and went to get some java.  When I returned, cup in hand, I stared at my blank screen in disbelief while the spinny-thingy revolved around and around seemingly in the throes of death.  I was helpless to do anything but cry, “What didn’t I do to protect myself?”  Then the worst part: I couldn’t stop myself from repeating the futile actions of shutting-down and booting-up, over and over again, fully expecting that my system would magically begin working and my belief that it wasn’t anything serious would be validated; life as I knew it would continue uninterrupted.  Denial is a powerful adversary but eventually I had to face the fact that although I have heavy-duty security protection installed and I take very good care of what has become an important part of my daily existence, my system has crashed and I am devastated.  I cannot tell you what, when, where, or how it happened, but after doing everything that I could to correct the situation, I have had to accept the fact that I am completely and utterly helpless when it comes to performing CPR on my technology.  The most that I can hope is that some skilled expert/geek will be able to fix the problem for a cost that will not involve the sale of one of my organs and perhaps life will once again resume a dysfunctionally normal path.  However in the meantime, if it works for drinking why not computing…

  1. I am powerless over my technology and my online life has ceased.
  2. I have come to believe that a skilled computer geek can restore my system.
  3. I have made a decision to turn my frustrated and futile attempts to fix my computer over to a skilled professional (aka geek/savior).
  4. Made a complete inventory of my firewalls, anti-virus protection, and anti-spyware protection.
  5. Admitted to myself that in spite of all of my preventative measures, there are some smart mother fuckers who enjoy wreaking this kind of mayhem.
  6. I will prepare myself to part with some seriously hard-earned ducats.
  7. I will humbly ask aforementioned geek/savior to educate this techno-tard.
  8. Make a list of all recommendations of the geek/savior.
  9. Make all necessary corrections despite painful alterations to my bank account.
  10. Continue to perform all necessary updates and to back-up my files regularly.
  11. Make a commitment to stay current on all necessary improvements and to develop a close relationship with my tech guru.
  12. Having survived a traumatic and painful ordeal, I promise to share my experience with other techno-tards and to not become complacent in the care and feeding of my technology.

Serenity Prayer…Powering off.

Kiss My Ass…Don’t Mind If I Do!

Finally!  The scheduled rendezvous arrived and my pump was primed.  I had been waiting to get my lips wrapped around this tasty testosterone for quite a few months and although I have been in a relationship of sorts, as the conclusion became inevitable my mind was caught repeatedly wandering to the prospect of rekindling some fire with my former flame.  Any healthy female can attest to the truth of the old adage “the best way to get one out of your head is to get another in your bed” and this prescription is strong and is backed by some pretty solid stats.

He arrived early in the morning and my senses were instantly alerted by his aroma, a musky cocktail of light perspiration combined with morning java and his natural deliciousness.  After nudging him into the bed and removing what was left of his clothes, I had him lay upon his stomach while I softly kissed his neck and back and then proceeded to his nether regions.  First kissing one cheek and then another, I had him maneuver up onto his knees and I slowly began to lick down the crack of his fine ass.  Deliberately, I  licked south and north and applied a mild pressure with my tongue to the area between his scrotum and that most secret of man-places.  He moaned with pleasure as I entered his bum with my firm and erect tongue.  I gently stroked his penis while applying a gentle, warm and wet tongue-lashing to his formerly off-limits behind.

For those females who have not yet dared to go where no man has gone before, I cannot encourage you enough to indulge your man with this exotic pleasure.  Not only will it trip your guy into the throes of ecstasy but you will be surprised at the powerful aphrodisiac that dwells between the tender balance of his vulnerability and your determination to seek his trembling capitulation.

Thank you, Steven Tyler!

Morning Rendezvous

Alas, my morning rendezvous had to be rescheduled.  There is nothing like the breakfast of champions to get a girl back on her feet and into the game once again!  I have something extra special planned for this one. 🙂

Complete

He came last night to pick up the rest of his stuff.  I waited with a mixture of anxiety, sadness, and relief.  I had learned a valuable bit of truth: in time everyone eventually reveals who they truly are inside.  Even me.  Although he wanted me to continue to store some of his stuff, I let him know that was not an option.  I needed to have this thing over and done and as it turned out, that is exactly what happened.  It is better to be single than to be in a relationship that based upon need.  I had to face the fact that it impossible to love what you need because the fear that it one day might not being there influences every thought and decision.  Only within the parameters of freedom based upon self-responsibility and self-care does it become possible for a mutually beneficial liaison to exist.

At the time he came into my life, I was facing an inevitable vacancy and despite my awareness, I rushed to fill it at the first opportunity.  He, on the other hand, had nowhere to hang his traveling job hat and I was only too willing to invite him to hang it at my address.  At first glance it appeared that the romance was fortuitous for both of us however, looking back and being completely honest, I know differently.  He needed a place to stay and I needed to fill an emptiness.  As time went on, I began to resolve the vacancy by stepping up and taking responsibility for my wants and needs and at the same time he began to come to a decision of what he really wanted and needed to do in his life and neither of those solutions required the continued involvement with each other!

Now that I have identified my part, I can be on the lookout for the signs of need that masquerade as romance and perhaps limit the casualties caused under the camouflage of friendly fire.  I know I sound completely at peace and mature and philosophical, however, honestly I am still a little pissed.  His deception was overt and ignorant and I can’t help but hear Donald Fagen singing, “You wouldn’t know a diamond if you held it in your hand…”  He definitely didn’t know and I should have had a clue when he threw my cashmere sweater into the washing machine…what a dumbass!  In any case, I have had to unlearn and relearn a lot of faulty information in my dealings with men and the learning curve has been humbling and painful.

So what does it mean to be “complete”?  For this woman, being complete means that the lesson was learned, the casualties were minimal, and both parties walked away without the involvement of law enforcement.  I really couldn’t have asked for more except that if only he had let me keep that 60” television…?!

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