A Few Gratuitous Links

I can't get to real porn from work, which is a good thing, I'm distracted enough, but here are a few posts that have some nice eye candy....(and thank you to the Huffington Post)

Katy Perry in Rubber.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/07/25/blake-lively-busts-out-at_n_658455.html

Blake Lively in a Bikini

More Blake Lively pics...I've never actually seen her in a movie or on TV, but I know she is famous and her look is starting to grow on me. 

Fashion Week Swim Suits
I especially like 2, 4, 8, 10, 12, 18 (though she is way too big for this top)

and, a World Record for something we all do every day... can you beat it?

I've been tying a tie every Sunday morning for years, but no one ever showed me the right way to do it.

On the day this posts, I will be on vacation at a beach resort, hopefully with lots of this going on.  It was supposed to be an extended family trip, but my brother-in-law, the one pulling threesomes with hookers near his office, wasn't allowed to go because there would be way to much of this to look at.  Never mind the fact that he would be with his entire family, sharing a suite, with is 3 kids around. He wasn't allowed because she is still pissed.  But, she finally changed her mind because she realized that by the time she forgives him and lets him be around this again, mother-in-law may be living here.  I don't trust you, but since mom's about to kick-it, you might as well go.  Now that is the start of a healthy recovery....

FFF - Like Copper....

"...fresh blood smells like copper..."

60-80 words 

 She Said, He Said, in 160 Words

He collared me the night I graduated.

“So gaudy” my mother bemoaned, “why leather?”

But my cunt wept with joy.

Corporate beckoned

Piercings replaced leather

But the tan line never faded and my body ached for him.

In the world I climbed the ladder

Shards of glass ceilings fell at my feet

As I fell at his knees in humble, grateful service.

One night

Blade in hand

He made me his forever

“hmmmm” he said, “Fresh blood smells like copper.”

I clapped quietly with her mother

So proud of her girl in the honors gown.

Did she know my gift?

Discipline, Pain, Focus, Dedication, Obedience

The leather staked my claim

Stark, Simple, Black, Locked.

Life began behind closed doors

On bended knee, gladly chained, forcefully taken

The collar waited at bedside

While she worked, impaled with steel I designed

Then, she gifted me all she had

A box, a blade, a life

“Master, I hear fresh blood smells like copper.”

Come see who else joined in.... 

Sephani Paige:  http://sephanipaige.wordpress.com
Bella:  http://adventuresofmistressbella.blogspot.com
Bilinda:  http://fantasiesofanunofficialconcubine.blogspot.com
Slow Burn:  http://burnslowly-slowburn.blogspot.com
Rozewolf:  http://wordwytch.wordpress.com
Lexi:  http://lex-ploits.blogspot.com
Puss:  http://chocolatepuss.tumblr.com
Luna Mauvaise:  http://lunamauvaise.blogspot.com 

Southbound bus

Let me sit next to you
And hold your hand
Even if just for a minute
Let me feel connected to a bright spot in the city

Let me hold your hand
And feel the warmth of a touch,
The protective curl of fingers entwined
Claiming me, for just a few blocks.

Let me feel the warmth of another
A smile, a hand, shoulders brushing on a rumbling bus
Sit too close to me, steal a glance, but don't ask my name

That is not what this is about
Yes, I saw your skirt, short black and tight
Long boots with an interesting bruise to high

I saw you
Those thought filled my head
But just for a moment
But today
Just today
Hold my hand

A PSA on binge drinking....

I do not drink alcohol, I've always known that if I did I would be a bad drunk, so this PSA struck a nerve.

STOP DRINKING BOTTLED WATER NOW - You ninnies.....

At the gym I belong to, in the parks I frequent, and at the stores I shop at, I see the same thing, hundreds, thousands of bottles of water.  Smart Water, flavored water, vitamin water, power water, and it's all just a rip-off.

Water is Water.  In the United States, the overwhelming majority municipal water systems are safe.  The water is clean and healthful to drink, and if you don' like the taste, but a in-home filter to get a better flavor.

What we absolutely DON'T need to do, is pay beverage companies MILLIONS and MILLIONS of dollars each year to make plastic bottles.  Plastic bottles which are the scourge of landfills.  Plastic that is not recycled, plastic that is totally unnecessary.  (From the MSNBC article, only 12% of custom water bottles are recycled.)

The link below has an excellent graphic on the problem of bottled water.
Brian Clark Howard - STOP drinking bottled water now!!!

From MSNBC - Bottled water is the single largest growth area among all beverages, that includes alcohol, juices and soft drinks. Per capita consumption has more than doubled over the last decade, from 10.5 gallons in 1993 to 22.6 in 2003, according to the Beverage Marketing Corporation.
The growth has been even more impressive in terms of water bottles sold: from 3.3 billion in 1997 to 15 billion in 2002. Click here for the whole article

 Treehugger.com puts it this way.  Working backwards from the Time's "one-fourth", the non-recycled remainder, around 75% of all plastic water bottles sold in the US presumably goes to the dumpster and on to a landfill tip, or else ends up in the mid-ocean gyre.

I know this kind of writing is not what you come here for, you come here, to, well, you know, read about sex and fantasies, and frustrations and all the crap I normally talk about.  And believe me, I'm no environmentalist, I want to own a big truck that will haul the boat I want to buy so I can ski (naked) on the lake I will own in the mountains I will pillage, but water bottles drive me crazy, especially because they are bought by hipster idiots who also clam to believe in global warming and blame business for the coming ice age, or meltdown, or whichever disaster movie they saw last. 


But please, please, please, stop buying those damn bottles of water.  


One final quote:


"Americans are willing to pay top dollar for bottled water, which costs up to 1,900 times more than tap water and uses up to 2,000 times more energy to produce and deliver...

Flash Fiction Friday - Update

I wasn't able to add a list of players to my FFF post on Friday, but there are some great stories out there, so go visit them and support the FFF team.


Bella:  http://adventuresofmistressbella.blogspot.com   (Please welcome Bella, who's new to FFF this week.) 
Discreteinaz:  http://secretlifeofagentleman.blogspot.com  (another newcomer this week, welcome to the ranks) 
AzraelAngel:  http://unknownthoughts2009.blogspot.com 
heelsnstocking:  http://heelsnstocking.blogspot.com 
Cara:  http://bigakboy.wordpress.com 
Lexi:  http://lex-ploits.blogspot.com 
Soren:  http://amorousdays.blogspot.com 
Snow:  http://snow9.wordpress.com 
Nilla:  http://vanillamom.wordpress.com 
Slow Burn:  http://burnslowly-slowburn.blogspot.com   (SB was an after-the-fact addition last week and is rejoining us this week; go say welcome) 
Puss:   http://chocolatepuss.tumblr.com 
Bilinda:  http://fantasiesofanunofficialconcubine.blogspot.com
Rozewolf:  http://wordwytch.wordpress.com
Luna Mauvaise:  http://lunamauvaise.blogspot.com
Diable Incarne:  http://conningdevil.blogspot.com
Sephani Paige:  http://sephanipaige.wordpress.com

FFF - Ropes

"...cramped and trembling, aching with need..."

99-103 words  

 

The unlocked door gave way to his nudge and he saw her on the chair.  Her arms back, each knot perfectly laced to hold her position.

Muscular, strong, beautiful, naked.  “What did you get yourself in to Missy?”

He slipped on his rubber gloves and inspected her, “Don’t move a muscle,” he whispered into the oppressive night air.  Rain fell.  Rainbows streaked down the window and her bare skin.  His felt it coming, his stomach, cramped and trembling, aching with the need to release, but he held it in.

“What do we have Detective?” the other asked.

“Another sloppy DOM, another dead girl.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bondage, pain, the anger of sex, has never appealed to me, so this week's image was a challenge.  I have no practical frame of reference, no experience from which to draw.  To hurt another while loving them is still a mystery to me though I have read and watched many others.

This piece betrays some of the prejudices I had when I began my investigation of BDSM and the darker side of the blogosphere.  Many explained it to me, some offered to show, but I could neither get the first knot tied, nor land the first blow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

See who else played along by clicking down below......:

Can I wear your hat? - A question of consent

I have been reading a lot of interesting and "high spirited" discussions about sexual assault lately.  While this isn't a pleasant topic, I recently came across this video which makes some good points and made me laugh as well.



I originally found it on Sports Illustrated's  HOT CLICKS, but embedded the video directly from YouTube

Disparity

It's easy to be impatient on the Internet
I sent the e-mail, why didn't she write back? 
Her light is green, she knows I'm on, where is she?
It's easy to be impatient, to feel a sense of imagined urgency,
But none of it is real
Its a matter of disparity.
I'm on, she's off
I'm a computer guy, she's a teacher, artist
My computer's on all day, she has a real job.
I sit at my desk, she is out in the world.
I'm signed in the minute my machine comes on.
She has to find time,  alone time, to think, fire up, log on and read.
She's busy, I'm bored
She loves her job, I hate mine
She's a mile-a-minute until the last bell rings
I watch the clock tick, tock, tick, tock, echoing louder every day.
My morning  is her night, my lunch her dream time
I carry a phone, she rides her bike through the plaza.
I go for a run, and have my phone on my belt.
My work ties me to LANs, and Links, and Screens, and Webs
She's surrounded by paint brushes and stones and tile.
I come home with manicured nails and my hair in place.
Her shower washes away mud and color and sweat and art
We live through different days
Trying to connect when time works in our favor
But it's easy to be impatient on the Internet.
So I smile, knowing that she is busy, talented, active.
I regain perspective, glad that we are friends,
Grateful that the Pony Express is not the current standard for "Express Mail."
Glad for e-mails and wires and beacons and signals that connect us across the miles.

It's easy to be impatient, but it's better to be content, and calm. that's what she would have me be.
Friends wait, friends relax, and remember that we are always in the hearts of those we miss
Even when time and schedules and work and play and life keeps us off our keyboards.
Friends are always friends, when one thinks of the other and smiles
Wishing them happiness, sending out good thoughts, shedding a sympathetic tear
It's easy to be impatient when e-mails travers the globe in seconds
Files are sent in a heartbeat, when pictures talk and laughter is shared
The world seems so very small
We get spoiled
We have our friends so near, at the click of a mouse, they are there.
A green light, a chat, a picture shared, a joke sent,
Our lives are filled with so many wonderful things and people and sights and sounds
The quiet times start to get to us
Where did everyone go?
They are out there, busy, tired, working, distracted, just like all of us.
Living lives of disparity.

i may have to change my mind

I may have to change my mind about Kristen Stewart, maybe.

If this movie is as good as the trailer feels it's going to be, I'll have to reconsider.

May I Seduce You - Group Post - "Off Limits"

An embarrassment of riches.  We ended up with two group posts today, Flash Fiction Friday and "May I Seduce You" with  today's topic, "Off Limits"

Enjoy both posts if you have time and check out the links below to see who else joined in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She’s off limits.” He said, “You know she is.” He handed me my coffee as we pressed through the crowd and landed out on the street, the morning sun too bright, the noises too sharp, the ringing in my ears too loud.

“Thank God for Foster Grants” I mumbled in to my coffee as the bitter heat runs over my tongue and down my angry throat.

“What do you mean, ‘Off Limits’? She’s over 18, she lives on her own, she goes to school, works, she smart enough to make up her own mind.” I dodged the ancient Dodge Dart that ran the red light as we walked against the orange hand, “She’s a big girl.”

“Dude, you are such a douche, leave her alone.”

“Why? Because she likes me more than she likes you? I shifted my phone to my left ear and coffee to my right hand and ignored him, “Yea, yea, shut it, we’ll be there in a bit, we’re just leaving Starbucks……I know, suck it, I’ll be late, start without me, I’ll be there.” The red button gets pressed and the line dies.

“You’re just jealous because when she goes home at night and strips out of those pumps and that A-line skirt and that starched librarian blouse it’s me she’s thinking about, not your punk ass white-boy imitation of a man.”

“Dude, I’m telling you, leave it alone, you’ll both get in trouble.”

“Oh shut the F* up, I won’t get in trouble, I know how these things work. We meet up when everyone’s gone, find a little dinner, head back to her place.” I stop him in the middle of the sidewalk and lift my eyebrows to the entrance of our building, teasing him. “She lives alone you know, no neighbors” I elbow him as he looks at me with disgust and awe, “She can be as loud as she wants.”

I beat him up the stairs and through the doors laughing too loud for the marbled floors and high arched ceilings. I flash the security guards a smile and put my gear through the metal detector. “Watch my boy!” I laugh, pointing at Dexter behind me, “He’s packing heat!” Nothing beeps so we head down the hall.

The door is at the back of the room and I know they’ve already started so we quiet down and try to slip in unnoticed. But she’s up front, in charge, her voice like a steel angel, smooth, lilting, soothing, but as sharp and focused an I-beam when she wants to let her stern side show through.

Her look is impeccable, long brown hair done up on a bun with silky tendrils that fall around her shoulders and highlight her long neck. Her dress, modest at first glance, reveals a curve that makes Jessica Alba jealous and God proud of his own work. As she turns to face the audience, a shaft of sunlight catches the starched cotton and makes it glow in the early morning light, the soft silk of her bra is revealed and I begin to hyperventilate, imaging the softness of the skin that is gently cradled.

Frozen in my tracks and staring, Dexter nudges me from behind to get me moving and whispers, “Off limits.”

She notices us. “Mr. Andrews, Mr. Sorenson, you are late. Sit.”

“Sorry teacher” we say in unison, and another bad day in 7th grade begins.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thanks to The Dutchess for organizing this week's post
See who else is playing....

www.ronjazz.blogspot.com
http://topaz-gemology.blogspot.com
Http://mygrayline.blogspot.com
http://agirlsgottahaveoptions.blogspot.com
http://insatiabear.blogspot.com
http://theduchessissexy.blogspot.com (if she has time....)

FFF - "...a feast for the senses...

Home from an awful day at work, Friday, movie night.  Seriously, if she had to watch Twilight again she was going to leave.

Famished, she opened the freezer door.  Nothing. 
Even the syrup was gone.

A glimmer attracts in the hallway mirror.

Sara enters the den, candle-lit, warm, muffled, dark, inviting.  Gabrielle knelt, ready, bare, a willing sacrifice, yes, this movie night would be a feast for the senses.

69 words, what a fun challenge

See who else played today.

See who else played along @ Flash Fiction Friday

Dilema

My friend's on-line persona has been compromised, the wrong people found the wrong things and so they are laying low for a bit.  I got a note informing me of this and they said that communication would cease for a while and they warned me that their significant other would/may try to get in touch with me under the guise of being them and that I should ignore all communication attempts. 

OK. 

That's fine, but how do I know when it's safe to talk again? 

How do I know who I'm talking to?

Fitness Snapshot - July 15

Since I write more stuff here than in my own logbooks at home, I thought I'd bore you with some stats:

State	July 15	August 13
Height	5’ 10”
Weight	219	215
Age	45
Body Fat %	23.7	<23
BMI Score	31.4	30.85
Pant Size	38
Avg Heart Rate – Resting[1]	55
Avg Heart Rate – Driving[2]	49
Avg Heart Rate – Running[3]	143
Latest 10K time (Running)	59:22	56:00

I hope the goal values highlighted in Orange change before I have to post them again.  
I will NOT be losing 50 pounds, FYI.

---

[1] 5 minute average  - sitting in office chair, not working, but after lunch and ½ asleep.

[2] Measured during 35 minute drive to work, it was  a very relaxing ride

[3] Measured during 10K run

A quiet day, a shrinking circle, a rambling post

It's quiet today, a quiet day during a hushed week in which I saw my circle shrink for a while..

One friend is in hiding because of what her husband saw (though he has no need to worry)
One has gone quiet to get some work done
One new friend is already gone, but her stories were amazing
One stopped talking to me after she realized I was married (i never kept it secret)
One has just been quiet except for a blog post to let us know she's still around
One is no longer my sub, but we are still friends, but I have to admit missing the play time
One has stayed mad at me for much longer than i like, and I miss her
One just stopped.

I guess I'll have to go and get some work done.....

It is so difficult to make new friends, real friends, that we mourn the loss and feel the pain when they leave.

But all things ebb and flow, friend circles expand and contract with the breathing of life itself.  Friends are made, enjoyed, lost, but never forgotten.  People drift in and out, some on a weekly basis, some on a longer cycle.  Most are not gone, just being quiet themselves, looking inward, taking care of real life before the on-line is given it's due.

This sounds like a lonely post, but it's not, sometimes I just say out loud what I'm thinking to see if it makes sense.  Sometimes you have to state the obvious then let it go.  And this is in no way a goodbye to those I treasure, it's an acknowledgment of how much I appreciate those I've come to know.  They make my life a much better place, my friends, on-line and off, give me reasons to laugh, reasons to think, times to rejoice and times to cry.  They, you, all of you, make my life richer and much more interesting, and when the time for quiet is over, we'll make some more noise together.

It's a quiet day, too much time for thought, for worry, for misguided introspection, for wondering, for worrying.  I'll get to the gym at lunch, crank up the volume and heart rate, and sweat it out.

It's never quiet at the gym.

FFF - Driven, Beaten, Hammered

She heard about it on the evening news, grabbed her bags and was on the road within 20 minutes.  The rain didn’t help, but if he hadn’t been shot he’d be there.  His new passport, clothes, shaving kit and $2,000 had waited under her bed for a long time.  The note she left for her boyfriend wouldn’t make anything better, but he deserved something, she just hoped he wouldn’t make the connection between the news and her disappearance.  She needed a couple of days head start. 

The rain dissipated as her old car climbed, it symbolized their life together, driven, beaten, hammered.  On a secluded turn-out she opened the bag, stepped out, and changed the plates.  Scissors made short work of her long hair.  Hearing thunder filling the canyon, she got back on the road for the last stretch.  The rain began to fall again as she pulled off the road and walked back into the boulders.  Thunder exploded over her head, making her jump and the rain drenched her instantly. 

He stepped out from behind the rocks and ran to her.  This was their last time together for a long time, and she was going to make it count.

(OOPS - I just re-read the rules, I thought we had 200 words, I'll do better next time.)

See who else played along @
Flash Fiction Friday

The name alone scares me.....

U.S. Program to Detect Cyber Attacks on Infrastructure
The Wall Street Journal, By SIOBHAN GORMAN, JULY 7, 2010, 5:45 P.M. ET

The U.S. government is launching an expansive program dubbed "Perfect Citizen" to detect cyber assaults on private U.S. companies and government agencies running critical infrastructure such as the electricity grid and nuclear power plants, according to people familiar with the program.

The surveillance by the National Security Agency, the government's chief eavesdropping agency, would rely on a set of sensors deployed in computer networks for critical infrastructure that would be triggered by unusual activity suggesting an impending cyber attack, though it wouldn't persistently monitor the whole system, these people said.

• An NSA spokeswoman said the agency had no information to provide on the program. 
• A Raytheon spokesman declined to comment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The only thing that makes me less nervous about a program called "Perfect Citizen" is that I know just enough to know how hard this project is going to be.  It will probably never work, but will keep many productive IT folks employed for at least 5 years.  I want to be safe, I want my subway to run on time and not blow-up, and I want to keep the baddie away from the gooddies, couldn't they have picked a less Orwelian name?

Click the first line for the whole story.

King Of Kong - Obsession and Heartbreak, one quarter at a time

I recently watched the documentary "King of Kong; A Fistful Of Quarters," it was fascinating in a very strange way.

I grew up as an arcade videogame player. I worked at an amusement park that had an extensive collection of pinball machines and other mechanical games, and though it makes me feel old to say it, we were lucky enough to have some of the early versions of what we now consider classic video games. We had Space Invaders, Pac-Man, Galaxian, and of course,  Donkey Kong, though Centipede was my favorite.

While the plot is summarized as, “Diehard video game fans compete to break World Records on classic arcade games.”  The real story is that most of these men spend hours and hours in their garage or office playing the same game over and over, analyzing the patterns and traps of a single game, but rarely compete “against” each other.  They play alone, game after game, video taping each high score attempt to prove they are the best.   At the center of this film is Donkey Kong, where the world was first introduced to Mario, of Mario Brothers fame.

The documentary centers around two such men, Billy and Steve. Billy was famous from the time he was 16 years old when he was featured in a LIFE magazine article about videogame records (I couldn’t find a link to the original article). Steve came into the game later in life as a way to cope with some turmoil in his employment and personal life.

Without retelling the entire movie it is difficult to capture how surreal it is. The movie captures a level of obsession and self aggrandizement that is really extraordinary. Not only have both men based their entire life around this single videogame, they speak of it as if it is important beyond their personal interest.  One game referee, Walter Day, founder of Twin Galaxies, the “official” score keeper for arcade games, compared the conflict to the Yankees-Mets rivalry.

Throughout the movie you see the countless hours these men put into practicing and analyzing their game. For Billy, it is his defining characteristic and he goes to great lengths, some which appear to be less than honorable, to maintain his preeminence in the field.  Steve's wife states that winning at Donkey Kong is important because Steve has been disappointed and failed in so many other areas of his life. While she comes across as an amazingly supportive wife, it is clear that she is worried about him and his obsession.

I recommend the movie for anyone who played video games in high school, especially the classics, the games with a four way joystick and one "jump" button, where a quarter bought you three lives and maybe 10 minutes of game play. Both men eventually broke 1,000,000 points and reached the final "kill screen" at the end of the games that lasted almost 3 hours.

For a movie about video games it has a full cast of characters including good guys, bad guys, strange groupies, biased judges, the possibility of fraud and deception, it has pity and pathos and tension and kept me watching way past my bedtime.

It is a story of obsession, an unquenched search for success and acceptance, a character study of those who have invested too much of their lives to let it go peacefully. The most telling scene comes near the end of the movie where one of the men was crowned the new champion and world record holder for the Guinness Book of World Records. It is the crowning achievement of this man's life, and it is witnessed by 12 people in a video arcade.

For pure comic relief, you have to check out the work of one of the characters, portrayed as a bad guy in the movie, he nonetheless left us this website, Roy Shildt, and is still fighting to be recognized for his missile command high score, Missile Command.

King of Kong; A Fistful Of Quarters  rent it, watch it, and be glad you have a real life.

Additional Links – The Record is Broken, and again (May 9, 2010)

Movie Premier Pictures

Wikipedia on Twin Galaxies

Chasing Ghosts – Another documentary on the “Golden age of Gaming”

My apologies for so many Wikipedia links, Twin Galaxies.com and most gaming web-sites are blocked from my office.

Really, I swear, its not my fault, not this time...

Earlier this week I was reading some blogs that I don't normally come across, and to be honest, except for Britni's, I can't even tell you which ones caught my eye, but most of them were on the "angry feminist" side of the fence. I use the phrase "angry feminist" not as a disparaging comment but that is a rather accurate statement of perspective. There are a lot of blogs written by people who are angry about something. I think it is great that they have found a way to express themselves and to gather support from those around them that feel the same way. That being said, it is difficult sometimes to read them from my perspective, that of a straight white male who is getting tired of being blamed for everything.

I will admit however that it is interesting, and valuable to hear their perspective on why I, as a penis owner, am the embodiment of evil. Apparently it is my fault that minorities commit crimes, that women get raped, that juries get confused, that British Petroleum is polluting the ocean, that “The L Word” might get canceled, and that none of the vampires in the Twilight series are lesbians (at least none of them are in my copy). Yet all of that is my fault, no wonder I am tired, I've been very, very busy suppressing the world.

I also am guilty because my dad insisted on going to college, becoming middle class, and for sending me to school as well. I was told that I do not understand the world because I am “privileged”.  Apparently because I studied hard, avoided partying too much, didn't get anyone pregnant, and finished school and got a job, I am not allowed to comment on anything. Really about anything. In just this last week I have been told that I cannot speak about poverty (its causes or its cures), sexual assaults, the minority experience, racism, classism, or, my newest favorite, "-able-ism". (It's no longer PC to say that something is "lame".  I a mean really, how retarded is that?) 

If this sounds like whining, so be it, but I have been told that I am the cause of all these problems, but I'm not allowed to comment on how to solve them. This is bad logic. British Petroleum is responsible for creating the oil spill in the Gulf, they are also, most likely, the best ones to fix the problem because they know their technology and the situation 5000 feet below the ocean. This does not mean that other people can't help, but we cannot exclude them from the solution either.

OK, enough on that, I did, however, learn a new phrase that actually caught my ear and that I might be able to incorporate into how I talk to, and around, women.  I don’t think I do this too much, but I’m going to try and avoid it in the future, it’s called “mansplaining” the act of explaining what a woman just said “so everyone can understand.”  It happens at work, in sports, at home, everywhere, and I have to admit, I laughed out loud when I heard it finally defined.  It also cover the phenomenon of the men ignoring the input from a woman until a man restates it as his own idea.  Then, suddenly, the idea is brilliant. 

That doesn’t happen too much at my work, because (1) there are very few women in my department (and yes, it’s mostly middle-aged white guys, so sue me, oh wait, you did, but you weren’t qualified for the job so you lost) and (2) the women I work with are REALLY smart and fantastic at their job, and I have to struggle to keep up with them.  But, I’m starting to hear snippets of mansplaining in conversations around me and I’m tempted to step in and point it out, but calling out a guy at the gym who can lift 300 lbs over his head and is probably moments away from roid-rage is a bad idea.

End of Rant.

Next week, why I am to blame for global warming and Justin Beiber’s awful singing.

(OK, this post is already too long, but when I googled “Justin Beiber” to check the spelling of his name, the first link to come-up was my favorite headline of the day….

“Justin Beiber denies Nazi Hermaphrodite rumors.”

Who says that free and independent press is dead? 

NILFs

I don't think my friend believed me when I talked about NILFs.... but here is the proof.

 

Or course, they don't all look like that, some look like this.

and some of them are really hot.

I LOVE NILFs.... 


LOL

(I'm going to hell now, aren't I.....?

A discovery via "GooglePlay"

This was one of my favorite discoveries yesterday on GooglePlay, so I wanted to share it.

Well, this isn't good.... or maybe it's a compliment...

Well, well, well, it finally happened, my blog is now blocked by my company's security system. I guess it's not really a security system, more like a "HEY! Don't look at porn during work" system. Yet they leave Tumblr, Flikr, and other blogs that are a lot worse than mine wide open. It's probably just a matter of time.

I can walk across the street and use the Starbucks hot spot or try and work from home, but that's almost impossible during the summer. With the kids and wife home and only one computer room to use as my home office, it's a non-starter to tell the kids I'm going to lock the door for 8 hours and "work."

Blogger.com is still open so I can still post. So that's a good thing. I haven't been able to comment on my own blog, and many others from the office for quite a while. I can get to googledocs and gmail and the like, just not to my own blog or to some comments. How strange.

My inability to respond to the lovely comments left by my legions and legions of fans (OK, all 12 of them) is frustrating. I should probably just get up earlier and hit Starbucks before the gym and respond, or use my lunch hour to go across the street and work until my little laptop battery dies, a built-in 1-hour timer. I should start e-mailing my commenters back, so they know I saw and appreciate their efforts. Seems ungrateful not to say something.

But from where? Starbucks is really a bad place to work, no good table, too much glare, that smelly homeless guy, the smellier coffee guy, the tourists. Ugh. I'd love to have a wi-fi card for my laptop but those have monthly bills and I don't have much monthly money. Maybe outsourcing my blog to India is an option. How do Hindu's feel about posting stories about multiple partner oral/anal/PIV (a new acronym for me) sex party fantasies? If I don't pork on the buffet is it OK? So many questions. I'm just not sure.

I've even thought about having a friend of mine maintain if for me, but she keeps a lovely blog of her own and I'm not sure if she has time.

So, is it a compliment to have your blog blocked? Have I finally used enough dirty words to catch the censor's eye? Compliment or not, it's a pain in the ass to work around it. Rrrrgh.

All right, enough complaining. Time for the bus.