The Seven Deadly Dwarfs

220px-Swaggart_confession_screenshot

A Sick Bastards Fairly True Fairy Tale repost

Sins! Oh sweet Mama are we all guilty of sins. I even remember the righteous Jimmy Swaggart crying “I have sinned” although I suspect the tears were because he was caught. Who among us has not sinned? Personally I will cop to multiple sinning that may border on serial or pathologic levels. The degree of sins I have committed has allegedly assured me a special place in hell. Allegedly! By that I mean if there is a hell and if so then does it really contains special places in it. When I think about it, which honestly isn’t often, Hell couldn’t be as bad as those sanctimonious truth babblers would have me believe. I mean shit, when I die they tell me I have a choice of only two places, heaven or Hell. That’s all the options I get. In heaven I get to sit by the throne of the almighty. No TV, no music, (except some mind numbing harp strumming by Angels), no board games, no electronics, nothing! Jut sit by the throne with a bunch of goody-goods twiddling thumbs. Can’t even think about the fun shit like sex and….well sex. In that case heaven is a place to go to get bored to insanity. Not this boy, I plan to fly over the cuckoo’s nest. Or if Hell is where they say it is then under it. Put me on that elevator straight to hell. Let me live out my days being naked, roasting marshmallows, and sinning like the devil with a shitload of other sinners. A place where sex, drugs, and rock and roll are not only encouraged, but required. Daily entertainment!
So what makes a sin a sin anyway? Who decided what was okay and what was not? How in the hell did someone come up with The Seven Deadly sins? I know what you think, I’m about to start bashing the cross waving holier than thou Christians again, but nope. Uh uh, not this time. This time I point the finger at The Brothers Grimm. In 1812 they took these fire and brimstone causing seven sins to a new level. What’s worse their partner in perpetration Walt Disney himself injected subliminally into the mainstream. Yup, today I blame this shit on Snow White.
Seven dwarfs and seven deadly sins! Coincidence? Hardly! Each one of those diminutive diamond mining denizens represent a sin. And the true tales are full of drugs and parties and enough sex to make the entire population of munchkins giggle with delight. Not convinced yet? Well then allow me to break this shit down!
Wrath. The sin of rage and uncontrollable anger. Why so angry? Well one of the dwarfs, Plick, was cut off. One fateful day in the diamond mine he attempted to steal some diamonds by swallowing them. He was caught, and the others held a group meeting an agreed that as punishment this dwarf was banned from alcohol, weed and coke for six months. Even the lady dwarfs denied him sex. Not only that, he still had to shit out the diamonds without any painkillers. You’d be Grumpy too!
Sloth. The sin of laziness. If that’s true I am one major sinning son of a bitch sinner because I have a masters degree in procrastination. But back to the dwarfs. In the bed next to Grumpy slept Perzlebaum. Perzlebaum was very clever and the first to realize that he had access to Grumpy’s banned stash. Purzle drank so much whisky and puffed up so much weed he passed out. Fuckin’ Perzle slept for three days straight and it caused permanent dammage to his orbital muscles. With his constantly drooping eyes, he earned the name Sleepy.
Lust. The sin of intense desire. Packe was also somewhat of an opportunistic party hound and noticed the lady dwarfs shunning his buddy. Packe woke up each day with that male teenage bane, morning wood. At first he took matters into his own hand, but then the idea came. Grumpy’s ladies must be lonely. Oh he satisfied his normal urges at night in the dwarf bars, but now after 4AM he also prowled the lonely of the night that had once been busy with Grumpy. He engaged in sexual trysts on a scale of many a mans fantasy, sometimes having as many as four little ladies a night. He even started experimenting with trans gender dwarfs which caused him to become an orgasm addict. Poor Packe fucked himself silly. Literally! He fucked his own brains out. He is still off balance and to this day still known as Dopey.
Envy.The sin of jealousy. Now comes Huckepack. He was once considered somewhat of a dwarf ladies man, a playa amongst playa’s. But he noticed how easily Dopey was getting laid and it bothered him. Huckepack wanted a piece of the action and not just the plain looking ones, he wanted to go after the super hot little juicy fruits. When he finally did score the dwarfette of his dreams he was stoked. No, not stroked you pervert, stoked! Once in the bedroom he was over excited, and he stripped immediately. He had not taken into account that he had just returned from swimming. Uh huh, shrinkage! Juicy fruits eyes went directly to his compromised dwarf hood. One look at his shrunken treasure and his naked conquest let out an emasculating giggle. She then said to him “Who are you expecting to please with that tiny thing?” Embarrased and angry Huckepack looked at her horrified screaming “ME BITCH!” But it was not a save. She hit him below the belt and his confidence was rocked to all hell. He grabbed his clothes and ran out in tears of shame. He never worked up the nerve (That’s not a euphanism) to talk to her or any other women ever again. He was labeled Bahsful.
Pride. The sin of self indulgance. Many consider this to be the worst, holding ones own esteem so much higher than everyone else’s. My oldest brother is like that, always better than the ret of us. I’m sure he’s somewhere looking down on us all right now. He’s not dead, he’s just a condescending ass. But this is the story of Rumplebold. This young dwarf was quite enterprising. His biggest problem was he believed he deserved the best of everything. He was entitled to everything that the dwarfs had and then some. With the others using up all of Grumpy’s weed and whisky it was Rumplebold who deserved the most expensive part of the stash. At least he thought he did so he confiscated the entire cache of Grumpy’s cocaine and went to town. Rumple did lines of coke everywhere he went and all day and night. He was wired to the max. He tried to hide it from the others, but it was impossible. Dude was sneezing white power from his nose regularly. There was so much blow up his nostrils he couldn’t stop sneezing. Yup, Sneezy.
Gluttony. The sin of over-consumption. Ah yea, too much of everything, no moderation what so ever. This has to be Puck. Puck may have been the cleverest of all seven. Puck knew just what he wanted. Everything! And lots of it. What made him clever was knowing how to take what he desired without raising awareness. He was slick and had an ample supply of whisky, weed, and women. His big problem was munchies. He was the one who did the weekly food shopping an always went right after puffing a fatty. The others never even knew that he bought and stashed boxes of ring dings, ho-ho’s and double stuffed Oreo’s. Ate himself silly. He became fat and jolly. Oh yea, he was one happy Puck. Always smiling, always laughing, always…..Happy.
Greed. The sin of material pursuit. This brings us around to our last dwarf, Naseweis. Ole Nasy was greedy from the start. He wanted flat screens, and smartphones, designer clothes, expensive jewelry, and a Bentley to take into LA to shop at Rodeo Drive. He had a hunger for living in the material world and wanted a material girl. Maybe even shag Madonna. But how could he afford all these things? An idea struck him. He went online and bought a fake doctorate from WebMD and began selling scripts to the other six. It’s rumored he even sold a script for Propranol to the wicked witch. No matter, he recognized the weaknesses in all of us and exploited it as a doctor. Even though it was fake it worked, and they all go to “Doc” when they want vial of feel good.
So that’s it. That’s why I blame these fictional characters for creating the seven deadly sins. I’m calling them out. Who knows, maybe it will even start a whole new religion. Or at least a sect. The Seventh Sin Adventists or something. We can be known as Dwarfies. We will pray for illicit happenings, sing about sinful exploits, and even approve same sect marriage. Maybe I’ll even get my own compound out of the deal. We’ll lock ourselves in and commit every sin possible. You can come and join if you want, all sinners no saints! Just remember, I am a shameless sinner, so if I do offer you some Kool Aid, make sure it’s the electric kind. Have a nice trip……PEACE

SNOW PLOW ENVY

a plow

Dig this, I’m not about ranting over the effects of Global Warming, at least not today, but ya gotta admit the weather across the globe has been pretty friggen strange over the last bunch of years. Take for instance this past snowstorm that had Texans bucking black ice patches instead of wild horses, Nevadans gamble their driving capabilities, and Kentuckians and Tennesseans blaming snow instead of bourbon for their accidents. Here on the NE coastal Tri State area it just dumped an unusual early snowstorm to warn us of whats to come. Superbowl of a blizzard? Maybe, but yesterday all it did was inconvenience us and unleash that major winter headache, amateur snowplow drivers.
All sorts of pick up trucks sporting huge plows on the front to push around snow. A closer look inside these trucks often reveals a small problem. That is to say, a diminutive driver who lacks self confidence using a big plow to compensate for something! Some of these frustrated plowers are so insecure they’ve had their plows hanging out for all to see right through the summer. Look over here ladies, my plow is up an ready. What they may not realize is that while pushing the snow about is somewhat impressive, if you don’t know how to park the plow is only an attachment. No matter what you have, if you can get it into the parking space skillfully the size of the shovel is irrelevant.
Yesterday afternoon I watched as two pick up trucks pulled up alongside each other at a red light. Their face were forlorn, because it was early afternoon and the storm had already dropped its load and the roads were all clear. I couldn’t help but notice how each of them snuck a glance at the others plow. Clear and obvious plow envy! I remember a time way back when one summer after polishing off a number of beers and shots of Jack Daniels out in the Hamptons I meandered into the rest room to repay the beverages I had borrowed from the bar. It was pretty clear I was not a resident, my clothes certainly betrayed the fact that I was not one of the “beautiful people” who often partied in West Hampton. Also clear was the dude standing at the urinal beside me was indeed one of those beautiful people, even his socks looked tailor made. As I took care of business his head tilted slightly to what could only be considered an attempt to catch a glimpse of my equipment. I had to wonder why he was sneaking a peek at my man muscle. Was he comparing his to mine or mine to his? Was he interested in more than just a peek, or was he merely wondering if someone from my side of the tracks had a tell tale mark or different shaped appendage.
Of course that was just young mans penis envy, wondering how to gauge if he was in the ballpark of average penile hang-age or if he was perhaps in the …ah…. larger percentile, which I’m sure was his hope. Sorry to have disappointed him….. Oh wait, I didn’t mean to imply I am larger, I meant that size doesn’t matter. Well it matters to a degree, way too much or way too little may be hard to….ah.. overcome! But like I said earlier, if a guy knows how to park his vehicle properly a smaller car can be just as powerful, effective, and attractive. Apparently however, this rule of …ah….thumb does not apply to the overcompensation crowd. It was a case of dueling plows and I’m not sure what the winner gets and I really don‘t care. Personally, I think its better to concentrate on having the right mud flap anyway….

We Three Kinks Of Orientar

3 kinks

Oh three kinks of Orientar
In our space ships we traverse afar
Cosmic Fountain, Galactic mountain
Following yonder quasar

Oh weed of wonder weed of night
Weed of royal smoking flight
Westward leading pot de-seeding
Guide us to the perfect height

Bondage a kink of Beth Liam’s plain
Cuffs I bring to bind her again
Bound forever ceasing never
What is that golden rain?

Oh weed of wonder weed of night
Weed of royal smoking flight
Westward leading pot de-seeding
Guide us to the perfect height

Oh weed of wonder weed of night
Weed of royal smoking flight
Westward leading pot de-seeding
Guide us to the perfect height

Role play wardrobe to offer have I
Naughty nurse of Deity nigh
Submissive praising will have your man raising
Worship him and get most high

Oh weed of wonder weed of night
Weed of royal smoking flight
Westward leading pot de-seeding
Guide us to the perfect height

Aromatherapy is mine, a better perfume
Breathing musk in your hotel room
Bound for a boning, bleeding and moaning
Kink is what makes kinky love bloom

Oh weed of wonder weed of night
Weed of royal smoking flight
Westward leading pot de-seeding
Guide us to the perfect height

Glorious now his bone shall arise
Kinky sex is your sacrifice
Alleluia Alleluia
Together you both come twice

Oh weed of wonder weed of night
Weed of royal smoking flight
Westward leading pot de-seeding
Guide us to the perfect height

The Sick Bastards Network presents : The Buck Bone Naked Chef

naked chef

The hottest new kitchen competition in town
Rated WSC (Warped Sexual Content) Parental discretion advised, in fact, everyone’s discretion

Its hotter than Hells kitchen, bigger and harder than any of the Top Chefs, more dangerous than having it Chopped. Its here and its sure to make the Doughboy rise and pinch Melba‘s peaches. The Buck Bone Naked Chef lets it all hang out in this bare bones competition that leaves no sharpening stone unturned. Watch as three culinary contestants ply their culinary trade in the buff. That’s right, three naked chefs competing for the coveted title of The Buck Bone Naked Chef.
Tonight We’ll see if Jack has what it takes to whip up your soufflé or fall short. Will Destiny get the dough to rise or end up going down? Will Stan fluff his meringue into stiff peaks or take it on the chin. Join our three judges Ben Dover, Hal Apeno, and Helen Back as they choose who’s naked body raises their bar and who goes home fully dressed and unsatisfied…
I’m your host, Hugh Jass so come join me now. First let me introduce our contestants. From Pullet Pennssyvania, Master Chef of “The Back Door”, Jack Mioff. “I’m Jack Mioff and I work 16 hour days so I won’t stop until I’ve given every ounce I have.” …He sure looks like he can go the distance, next here from Deepcavern Nevada , chef Destiny Dancer who heads up the culinary staff at “Swinging On The Maypole” in downtown Twin Peaks, “Me and my girls are coming for you boys, you better be up for it.” ….Hoho, threatening words from a pretty lady. I’m even feeling it,haha. And finally, Stan Duprite, the very popular New York City chef at “The G spot”,.. “ When I pull out my secret weapon it will bring them to their knees.”…. Oh boy, sounds like he’s got more than just a few tricks under his apron, we’re gonna have some very stiff competition tonight. So Let’s get right to it contestants. In the first round we’ll be looking to see what these naked culinary competitors can come up with using the secret ingredients, Zucchini and Oysters. Chef’s, take off your clothes and get to work, you have 20 minutes to pull it off.

Jack has turned on the Hobart 10 gallon mixer ..Oh my god look at him go, he has the mixer on low and he’s rolling his hips in time to the machine. Lets listen in on the judges, “ Hal, it looks to me like he’s hanging A bit too low and….Ohh snap, that had to hurt!”.. “I’ll bet it did Helen, not sure how he’ll get that out of the whisk. I would have used a paddle myself whada you think Ben?” “I don’t know Helen I think the paddle would’ve pulled it just as hard.” “You might be right Ben, but either way he’s gonna have to get that thing out of the mixer.” …. Lets go on over and see what Destiny has working up. Well look at this folks Destiny is giving you viewers quite a treat as she rolls out her dough. That’s some serious bouncing right there, haha. .. Back to the judges, “Holy crap Helen what ees she doing with dat zucchini?” “I can tell you this Hal, the way she is washing that thing the zucchini may come squeaky clean but I can’t wait to see how it makes Stan Duprite deal with the sight, he hasn’t taken his eyes off her.” No kidding Helen, Hal you seem to be staring yourself. I hope they can get back to work..”….. They aren’t kidding folks, Stan hasn’t moved a muscle. Well hasn’t moved a muscle aside from the obvious hanging chad muscle, haha…. Tell you the truth I’m not sure she’s washing the zucchini it looks to me its more like she’ greasing it for something. Lets go see if Chef Duprite has his head back in the game. I see he’s not standing still, he’s just having trouble getting his oysters off. Seems the shell is clamming up him, hahaha. But it looks like all three are making headway. Whoa, hear that bell, 2 minute warning constants, time to wrap things up and start plating for the judges.
While our contestants plate their appetizers lets meet our judges for tonight’s competition. From Mexico, the man who puts then heat in the meat of Mexican food everywhere, Hal Apeno. “Tank a you, tank a you, I am berry pleased to be here.”…Okay Hal. A man of few word, haha, and now the lady who has gone from being a homeless crack addict to restaurant whore, I mean restaurateur, Helen Back. “Hellooo everybody. So nice to be here on Naked Chef Bone. Can’t wait to see all the booty. Heheh, I mean bounty Hugh, not booty, hehehehehe. I‘m just happy to be near you Hugh Jass, teehee”… And I‘m certainly happy to be near you Helen. I can see you have your big cleavage…Oops, hahaha, I mean your big cleaver tonight Helen. Better watch out for my meat, hoho. How much did that monster set you back. Four dollars and ninety cents I think, I gave the guy a five dollar bill and he gave me back two nipples. Oops, heheheheh, I mean I don’t know how much Hugh.” ….No worries Helen, we speak blond here on Sick Bastard Network so we know just what you mean honey. And now our final judge, the man who puts the coarse in intercourse, Ben Dover. “Oh piss off Hugh, when your tip reaches your butt you can just fuck yourself.” … haha, eat shit and live Ben. I see Ben is in rare form tonight so contestants, bring out the dishes. What have you got there Jack?
“Well I got off to a rough start putting too much of myself in the bowl there, but I made autoerotic oysters, Oysters tied around this slice of zucchini bread with smothered onions.“ Mmmm, looks good Jack, lets see what the judges think, Hal? “No very spicy but still she’s a hot, not bad there Jack Mioff, not bad at all.”…All right. Confidence from Hal, not bad at all, Helen? “It feels good going down my throat but its much too big. I like to start off with small mouthfulls.” Okay Helen, well said, how bout my angry friend Ben, what say you? “Piss off Hugh, this looks and tastes like shit.”…Oh no, not much praise from Ben Dover. Next we have the well endowed Destiny. What do you bring to the table Destiny? “I made a dill cake with greased zucchini and raw oyster because they make me horny.”…. Hahaha, I think I’m horny too Destiny, but what about our judges, Hal? “Spicy and hot. I want her.”… Ho ho, I hope you mean it not her, Helen? “I just can’t get that image of her greasing the zucchini out of my head, so slow, up and down, and up and down. I vote for her to do it again. How on earth did you get the bread so tasty Destiny?” “Oh, hehehe, I used fresh dill because fresh dill makes a tasty dill dough.” …. Okay lets not go there, too deep for me, haha, lets move on. Ben? “piss off Hugh, I just want to screw her. I’d like her to Ben Dover, haha.” ….Good enough Ben, good enough, believe it or not that’s big props from Ben Dover. Finally what did you make Stan Duprite? “Well not Ben that for sure Hugh, haha, I made a zucchini pancake with oysters absolut. Vodka glazed oysters with some bacon and Vidalia onion chutney on top.” …Mmmmm sounds delish to me, whadaya think there Hal? “Actually this shit looks good and tastes amazing. Maybe just nees a little hot sauce.” …Another nice compliment from Hal, lets hear what Helen has to say… “My God Stan is hung like a horse. What I’d really like is for Destiny to grease his zucchini, hehe. But I really like the way this whole thing feels in my mouth.” …My that’s a ringing endorsement from the slutty, oops sorry, I mean sultry Helen Back. Now our final judge, Ben?…. Get your head out of your huge ass Hugh, you know this food rocked it. But does he have to keep swinging that humongous sausage around?” ….Well Helen seems to lick it, I mean like it. Contestants, one of you will be eliminated this round lets see who has to get dressed.
Well the judges have spoken. Jack, your zucchini bread was pretty flat but your sticking it in the mixer was entertaining, Destiny, greasing that zucchini was so intense all three judges voted for you to have immunity this round, and Stan, I gotta say, you better not get too hard or there’s gonna be an accident for sure. So the first one to put their clothes back on… Jack Mioff. Sorry jack, get dressed an go back home. “Fuck you guys, this game sucks. I want to slap you Hugh.” …Whoa!! Ha ha, I’m ready for it, go ahead Jack Mioff. There goes one sore loser, but then if I had my beef jammed in the mixer I’d be black and have the blues too. Lets go to the final round. Contestants your ingredients for tonight’s entrée is banana, figs, and pork tenderloin. Destiny, Stan…..get to it, you have thirty two minutes.

Stan is off to a fast start, he has his tenderloin up on the counter and it looks like he’s… massaging it? Oh wait, I see what he’s doing, look at Destiny fixated on Stan’s tender loin. Lets listen in on our judges… “Conyo man, dat some huge tender dere Helen, si?” “Oh yea I see that thing Hal, Destiny seems to be staring too she better snap out of it and…oh wait, oh my God, I never knew anyone could peel a banana like that!” “Holy cheet Helen, Stan just dropped his meat pounder.” ..“Will you two idiots quit babbling, of course he dropped it for chrissake, look at the way that broad is eating the banana!” Wow!! Damn she’s not eating it, she’s sucking that thing and I want to take notes, if I could do a banana like that I’ll have both of you guys licking my fingers and eating me out.” ….Hoho, I think Helen meant eating out of her hand but either way everyone has stopped everything and…..Wait, what’s this?? Oh oh, this could be bad news for Stan, he may get disqualified. He has piled up all the ingredients in a tower. That’s quite an erection he’ got there, no pun intended, hope he can recover. Destiny is back by the stove and is she ever giving our viewers a view. Ten minutes to go contestants, Stan, better calm that thing down before it gets disqualified. We want you to stick it out, but not that far out, haha, and Destiny I sure hope you have something to lay on your plate. We’ll be back after these messages from our sponsors, Trojan Condoms, with their new stealth rubber, she’ll never see you coming, and our favorite fast food chain, Mc Do-me’s, they give you the meat but hold the pickle.

Welcome back folks, the final bell has rung and its time to find out who gets dressed and who gets their own reality show. Judges, lets see what Destiny and Stan have for you. Destiny, what is your entrée? “I have roast tenderloin with rolled up balls of figs. As a side I placed the tip of the banana into a sliced fig.” Oh my, that’s an interesting presentation, it looks almost phallic, Hal? …“Phallic schmallic Hugh, I jus wanna see her eat another banana.” …Sorry Hal, that trigger has already been tripped, Helen? ..”Destiny, meet me after the show!” ….Helen I’m not sure, “Piss off Hugh, let them meet Helen said I can watch! Just give her the prize and get rid of the dude.” ..Um, oh, I..I.. It doesn’t work like that Ben, we need to judge. Lets go quick, And I mean quick to see what Stan cooked up for us, Stan? …”Not that I think its even gonna matter, but I made scaloppini of pork tenderloin wrapped in grilled banana, with a cognac fig reduction and a purée of savory banana over cinnamon infused Jasmine rice.” …That sounds mighty tempting Stan, what do you thin Hal?…”Taste good, but not as good as dee chick.” Yikes, Helen? Helen? Stan, you can’t do that, get away from Helen…”Shut up Hugh, don’t stop Stan, if you keep going until I come you get my vo….oh shit, that was pre mature!!” Helen, please, this is…”Piss off Hugh. We all voted and the dude is out. Clean yourself off and get dressed Duprite! Bring those melons over here sweetheart, you’re the winner.” …. Ben you can’t say that kind of….oh, damn…We’ll be right back…CUT!!! Go to commercial now!!”
Shsshshshshshsshshshshshshshshshshshhsshhsh……….
Hello folks, welcome back I’m Hugh Jass here at The Buck Bone Naked Chef on The Sick Bastard TV Network, along with our celebrity judges, Hal Apeno, Helen Back, and Ben Dover. Well we had an unconventional show tonight to say the least but with this cast its about what we’d expect around here. We have to say good bye to a fierce competitor, but quite frankly Destiny made it hard for him from the start. In fact she made it hard for just about all of us. Stan plunged in and gave it his all but in the end he got beat by his competitor. Destiny made it so long and hard for him he just had to down, and not just on Helen, haha. His cream wasn’t rising to the top no matter how hard he was…I mean tried. Stan, put your clothes on and hit the road dude, Destiny will remain naked. “Can I just say I had a great time here. I won’t be able to beat it for a while but I am glad I came. Helen, thank you for your number I’ll give you a call. Destiny, if I had to go down I’m glad it was on you, I will never forget seeing your milk pillows bounce as you rolled out your dough. I think my only mistake was with the thickness of my pork, I didn’t pound my meat enough, but Destiny’s knockers knocked it out of the park anyway.” …Indeed they did Stan, glad to see your not a sore loser. Personally I can’t wait to watch Destiny beat her next opponents on Buck Bone Naked Chef Champions. In the meantime I’m gonna Ben Dover my Hugh Jass to Helen Back until Hal Apeno makes it Stan Duprite so Destiny Dancer can Jack Mioff. Thanks for joining us, I’m a Hugh Jass and we’ll see you next time on, The Buck Bone Naked Chef.

Transcendental Medication, episode III

mc-escher-humanity

Previously on Transcendental Medication:
Nothing is the absence of anything. Anything is something so nothing must be something if its anything

She was very attractive with piercing hazel green eyes and long straight black hair tied up neatly in a swinging ponytail but allowing perfectly cut bangs to cover her forehead. Her eyes were as stunning as a Montana sky and just as vast.

Butterflies had left my stomach and created a chrysalis caravan traveling through my digestive tract straight towards my reproductive organs. It was complicated even more profoundly by her sensual and suggestive tone echoing through my soul. Maybe she wasn’t even there to begin with, the line that separated reality from non-reality had become wafer thin.

III Begin At The Beginning

When I got home the first thing I did was pour myself a big glass of wine. A very big glass of wine. I needed to process what just happened today and decide if it was wise to go back. The more I thought about the nurse the more I feared it was all in my head. Was I imagining some pornographic manifestation of a dominatrix nurse? A scene from “Romancing The Bone” or “A Cockwork Orange ” in the hopes of some spiritual sexcapade while under acupunctural meditation? A wet daydream? Maybe I’m hoping for a close encounter of the supernatural sexual kind. Everything about it seemed so very real and she seemed to know me almost intimately. Besides I need to know what the hell this nothing bullshit was all about and how far I would be taking this so I’m definitely going. Then again what if I go back to the opposite universe and its Kha that ties me up and toys with my pleasure zones. Erotic adventures involving Dr. Kha’s thermometer probes and patient doctor confidentiality. Then again if it is the nurse she was so hot and so sexy my libido did triple somersaults with a full twist and was hoping to stick a landing. I would have made a contract with the devil himself for an evening of exploration with her but who and what can I trust? Doctor Kha said equal and opposite! I’m not even sure if she was a manifestation of my inner desires or if that sweet temptress really exists. Maybe its nothing!
I finished the large glass of wine and as I poured a second I glanced at the calendar. My eyes went directly to two days from now, Friday the 27th. Twenty seven is a good number as numbers go. Two is balance and union and seven is a very spiritual number, in nearly every religion. Together they add up to nine which is the highest level of changes. Hmmm, union, balance, and change! I looked away closing my eyes as if to think about it but I knew my mind was made up. I mean a night of deep philosophic discovery contemplating the secrets of science followed by a fantasy involving wild abandoned sex, what’s not to like. Secrets of science? OMFG, have I become a nerd? Maybe so, but when I wake up Saturday morning I will be one happy and satisfied nerd. I glanced dreamily back at the calendar but all I saw were those beautiful hazel eyes filled with longing and promise. Friday it is!

The day couldn’t possibly have dragged on longer if it were fitted with friction bars. From the moment I woke up all the way through the day all I could think of was my dominatrix nurse. I made four errors on my lunch orders at the restaurant which is four more than usual, and my head just wasn’t in it at all. But the shift finally limped slowly to an end and I flew home to prepare for my journey. Nothing was on my mind. That is to say nothing and sex was on my mind. Maybe nothing but sex, but I was very excited on so many levels. After the longest shower in history I did my best to look my best and it certainly wasn’t for nothing, at least I was hoping it wasn‘t.
When I arrived no one seemed as excited as I was, acting as if this were just another mundane visit. Maybe it was for them but I came here to be enlightened and turned on like never before. Dr. Kha led me back to my cot, my waiting room to nothing, and began inserting his needles. “Hmmm, I feel much tension JT, I think I need put more puncture in foot today. Not want you running away, eh?” Oh yea, he knew something was up, or rather that nothing was up. “Just really looking forward to what’s in store Kha, to pick up exactly where I left off the other day.” My smile must have been huge. “I see. Remember JT, every session new session. Like snowflake nothing ever exact.” I turned to look at him but he was already gone. I thought about a line from The Wizard of Oz and laughed, “My, people come and go so quickly here”, then I laid back to meditate while thinking of other Oz quotes. “Some people without brains do an awful lot of thinking, a heart is not judged by how much you love but by how much you are loved by others, you’re confusing courage with wisdom my friend.” I entered my zone, incense and music comforting me, a soothing sitar solo and I was transported again.
“Dr. Kha?” I pushed my way past the dimension curtain. “Very clever JT, using Wizard of Oz. You think other dimension same as Oz for Dorothy? Maybe you same than Dorothy.” I could feel a strong burst of air pushing me back towards the curtain and had to fight it off. “You gotta admit there are similarities Kha, I know I’m not in Kansas anymore.” The air kept me at bay. “True, no Kansas JT, but no Oz either. If you want learn about nothing you need to enter completely.” I fought off the air blast, “I can’t seem to get any further this air current is keeping me away.” Kha smiled, “No air current JT, is nothing. Nothing is what keep you from moving forward. If you want to understand nothing you must first conquer nothing.” Conquer nothing? What the hell is he talking about? I concentrated hard and the wind stopped. I could see my nurse off in the distance, on the other side of a pond or something. She caught my eye and smiled. I looked back at her and then at Kha.
What you see is desire JT, but before you receive reward of what you desire lesson must be understood. You are in paradox JT, time and space much different than what you know. In this dimension Schrödinger’s cat exist and not exist” I shook my head full of doubt, “Are you saying we are in a box Kha?” He laughed loudly, “Box? No JT, here no box, but here always need think out of box. No use logic, use sensory instincts. Let feelings guide you.” I glanced back over the pond but no nurse. “So am I really here or am I still laying on the mattress?” Kha smiled, “I sorry JT, cannot answer. Anyway wrong question. What you should ask is when are you here and when are you on mattress. First to understand time you need let go of perception. You measure time in linear progressions, seconds, minutes, hours. But time constant and wobbly, no straight. You have already existed and already ceased to exist, time not wait on you. Your life is how you experience time, how you put it in order to understand. But time not linear JT, time flexible.” Kha pulled out a yard of string, “This your life JT. For you it have beginning and end. But time have no beginning, no end, time ownry exist. You see your life from one end of string to other. If I give you string in different pieces you think it useless, just like if I show you your life at 19, then at 5, then at 30. Not make sense because out of order yet it all happen. That ownry way you can see time, moving straight and forward every second. If you want see time as time truly is need more than acupuncture and meditation. For special people I give transcendental medication. Combine acupuncture with special medication to help you understand. I believe you ready but it up to you JT.” He paused looking at me as if I needed time to consider, but he must have known if my life has already been that I was going to go for it. “Dr. Kha, I want to understand. It would be my honor and a privilege to undergo transcendental medication.” I gave him a sly smile, “When did I start?” I looked at him hoping he got my joke and saw he was smiling. “Very good JT, I see I have chosen you wisely. I leave now but I back to arrange session.” He pointed across the water to where my fantasy had been waiting, “Meantime, I recommend you take rowboat across pond.”
Right there in front of me was a small dinghy with oars. I jumped in and rowed like a maniacal teen about to lose his virginity towards whatever waited for me across the pond. When I got there the other side it was even more amazing than I thought possible. It was like an island paradise, brimming with plants, trees, and flowers of all colors. It smelled clean and new, lilac and fresh cut grass with a sense of serenity. I followed a path taking in the sheer beauty around me. Flowers with their genitals boldly hanging out on display for all to see, giving off intoxicating scents to tickle the minds of men. With every breath I felt desire building up inside me awaiting release. Then I saw her.
Not a nurse, not a dominatrix, not even an exotic island native woman, but that gorgeous hazel eyed enticing beautiful woman from my first visit dressed as if for a date “I’m so glad you chose to come back JT, I am Ambrosina. I’ve been waiting for you. Come to me.”
To Be Continued

medication

All Shallows Eve

hallow

It comes as a surprise to many that Halloween is my least favorite holiday. The Existential baker is basically a fun loving dude who seldom misses an opportunity to party but like most things these days I feel the celebrations and revelry have spun way out of control. Back in the day we donned wafer thin material over our bodies with a hard plastic mask that fastened with a cheap rubber band across the head. That was the costume du jour. Spiderman,. Superman, Beetle Bailey (What?? It was 1st grade and I was impressionable) , whatever, those hard plastic face masks caused massive facial sweating while the slit for the tongue allowed us to dribble spit inside it as well. Those days were fun. Today however, the average costume costs near $30 with a ridiculously expensive $850 dollar collector edition Halo Master Chief taking the prize for most extravagant. Its become a who can outdo who for the best kid costume sparing no expense. Toddlers and tiara’s for a day. The adult costumes are even worse, many going to crazy lengths to be the talk of the ghostown. There are stores which dedicate their entire showrooms for that one holiday. I guess that’s why the begin advertising in August but at any rate in order to be in the height of Halloween fashion one needs to completely transcend just dressing like a goth or a slut. My Mom’s trick was to fool me into thinking I was a hobo by making me wear my older brothers ripped up clothes carrying a pillowcase as she marked my face with a mascara beard.

beetlebailey

Don’t get me wrong I loved trick or treating as a kid and went to great lengths to choose the perfect costume. I enjoy the fun size bar as much as anyone although today my standards of fun span much more than a half inch of chocolate bar. And of course part of my misspent youth involved some pranks and mischief but in my adolescence I found limiting it to just one day was just inviting trouble. I never did the burning paper bag of dog crap prank but I had my moments. But Halloween is overdone and has been taken to the edge. I mean, how are they gonna top it with the next generation?

With so many of us taking immature adulthood to new heights and responsible parenting to far below sub basement levels perhaps it will become a day set aside for today’s “whats in it for me” irresponsible adults so arrange for a babysitter. Start with a ghost haunting in the home because it would be full of boo’s. Or I mean booze. Picture this, at everyone’s door a stash of alcohol or other happy hour helpers at the ready. We dress up as authority figures, like maybe a mall cop, or “event security” and go door to door with our shot glasses and red solo cups. Ring the bell, and when the owner answers we all yell “Buzz or Beatdown” The owner then either pours a glass of beer or wine, fills a shot glass with their favorite liquor, or places a doob ash side in their mouth and proceeds to give a shotgun of silly smoke all around. I would go with the doob cuz there’s less of a chance of a beatdown from someone stoned than there is with alcohol laden drunkards. At worst a stoner will kick your shin. The occasional home of a chemist or pharmacist may have some prescription drugs or tripping product and everyone in the neighborhood will be sure to stop there before heading home. That would be a hellacious way to celebrate but there will be more sick outs the next day than the ay after the super-bowl.

But its not up to me as to how anyone chooses to celebrate their holiday and my job a it were is to come up with an offering of cupcakes that are themed out for October 31st. So here’s what I have coming up with at Jarets Stuffed Cupcakes for next week. The “Drunkin’ Punkin,” a pumpkins cupcake filled with bourbon pecan custard, “Apple Stumble“, an apple cupcake filled with rum raisin, and for the kids “The Tricking Treat,” a chocolate cupcake with candy corn custard and candied topping.

Have a safe and fun Halloween, enjoy the crazy holiday responsibly and remember, never underestimate the power of a cupcake….Peace

Upper Crust Tailgating

atail

Existential cupcaking to raise money at The far Hill Steeplechase Race was an eye opener for the Existential Baker. We were asked by Neiman Marcus to supply cupcakes for their heavy hitting guests at The Far Hills racetrack who were donating bookoo bucks for a hospital. Always prepared to assist a great cause we agreed and had a nice section on top of a hill overlooking the track to set up. As a bonus I was permitted to enjoy some wonderful sushi and sashimi, shrimp, crab cakes, lamb chops, Veuve Clicqout Champagne, and to wash it all down some Grey Goose. It also afforded me an opportunity to walk around trackside to engage in some hoity toity people watching.

The existential Baker knows little of how to hobnob, never knowing if I’m hobbing or nobbing, but I am always at the ready for something new. Having lived amongst the 99% for my entire life I was unaccustomed to uppercrust customs. Now to start I am admittedly not much of a sport fan, but I have been to numerous football, baseball, and hockey games not so much for the cultural experience but more for the atmosphere. Not being vested in any one team made being an observer much less of a spectacle in a spectator sport. Never one to paint my face in team colors, or dress head to toe as if I should be on the field, or otherwise engage in any of the fanatical aspects of being a fan I watched. I enjoyed people watching even more than the sport itself. During Ranger Islander games I scoured the crowds noticing for all its negative publicity for fighting on the ice there were far more fistfights in the stands. At Yankee games I learned how elitist and condescending a fan can become, but football was the golden jewel of people watching by way of the phenomena of football tailgates.

The parking lot is transformed into cave-like tribal sections complete with all the grunting and food gorging and beverage swilling one would expect of a Neanderthal Reunion. Rival factions wearing their tribal colors begin the tailgate as friends and on an equal respect level until enough hops and malts are consumed to strengthen their bravado muscles. Mostly the ones in and around the vocal chord area. Each tribe has its tables and cooking sources and the food is nothing short of a famed Roman feast with a modern twist. Grills loaded with whole chickens, huge massive beef parts, lamb, more grilled items than an caveman could shake a stick at. A grilling smorgasbord with an array of sides. But the main function of the tailgate is to imbibe a massive amount of beer. The result is feuding tribes of sloppy drunk average guys and girls heading into a stadium to watch professional gladiators play a game. Not at steeplechases!!!

The difference was immediate. Their style of dress was not weekend warriors but reserve fashion chic with a few over the top statements like bright pink striped pants or unusual tophats, but very expensive clothing. Nothing off the rack, everything very chic. Burberry boots, Dolce and Gabbana, all the best. Like LL Bean on very expensive designer steroids. Hair recently coiffed, manscaped and manicured couples all in neatly pressed clothing. Their cave sections were less barbaric as well, instead of grille meats it was a catered affair, complete with waitstaff. Bars set up with premium liquors, chaffing dishes of food everywhere, and red solo cups? Oh Hell no, not at this party, actually glassware. And they openly place their bets on the horse. “Oh for heavens sake I dropped another ace” means Holy shit I lost a hundred bucks on that horse! But it was nothing short of just another tailgate, the result being a more sophisticate brand of drunken idiots. The buzz from Grey Goose isn’t much different from the buzz achieved by Wolfsmith vodka. A number of heated disagreements broke out leading to some major face to face reddened angry speak.

But in the end a lot of money was raised for a great cause and I had a opportunity to see how the beautiful people spend their free time during their preferred sporting events. All in all the guys were lacking in couth but it was accepted as boys will be boys banter, with a bit too much stress put on sexual innuendo. This leads me to believe that the well off young men are quite sexually frustrated, and either the sex talk went over much of the young ladies heads, or they just ignored the boys knowing that I have a headache will work later on. PEACE

avi

The Monarch Of The Universe

mon of uni

Another never again moment. I’ve had way too many of them, late nights hugging the toilet bowl somehow empting more contents from my stomach than went in. How many times was I thinking I may have just thrown up my liver or pancreas? How may times have I said never again? Well at least this time I’m saying never again not because I’m puking up my internal organs from mixing every alcohol I could get my lips around. Nope not this time, this particular never again moment is because my hallucinations are over the top. Never again will JT take five hits of barrel acid, a favorite tripping substance for LSD users like myself. One is sufficient for a fantastic trip because barrel acid is pretty powerful, two is pushing it a bit closer to the edge and not normally recommended. Taking three hits is unusual and dangerously close to going over that edge but its not unheard of. But five?! That’s just fucking insane man, something that even the most seasoned tripper stacked with frequent flying miles wouldn’t do that on purpose. To be honest clinical insanity was what I feared most.
So how is it that I am laying in bed in a room I share with my brother tripping like McMurtreys cast of loonies in the cuckoos nest? Because in a moment of sheer marijuana driven panic I made an ill advised choice. My Mom came back unexpectedly and I had five hits of premium trip-worthy barrel acid on the table. I was looking longingly at my freshly acquired controlled substance contemplating who I would abuse them with when I heard the door open. In a rush of paranoia I grabbed all five and shoved them quickly in my mouth. Not in my pocket where they would have been safely stowed from sight but in my mouth! I heard her threatening heels clanking closer as she approached the kitchen and I did the only thing I could think of. I swallowed. Mom came in and glared at me, “What are you doing here in the kitchen? What are you up to now young man?” As I swallowed the tabs I nervously responded, “What do you mean up to? I ain’t doing nothing.” Mom believed that parenting was a responsibility in which she was obliged to constantly belittle me and correct my English. She was relentless at making me feel like shit, “You aren’t doing anything JT, and don’t lie to me I can tell when you’re up to something, you look like the cat that swallowed the canary.” I had recently smoked a joint blowing the smoke out my window and I almost chuckled thinking about Tweedy Pie and Sylvester but I needed to keep it together and switch the focus, “Okay, okay I’m not doing anything mother, just looking for a snack. Why are you back so early anyway?” she stared at me in an all too familiar way, deadpan suspicion “Yea well I forgot something and your dad is outside waiting. But if you don’t want to tell me what’s going on maybe I should just stay home.” Jesus Christ no! Just the thought of that made me shiver perceptibly. Time to use my ultimate teen weapon, the disdainful you never trust me sarcasm, “Yea sure Mom, I’m planning an mass murder, I was just in here choosing which of your knives will make the cleanest stab! Why is it you always think I‘m up to something? You never trust me.” I knew I sold it. Mom shook her head in mock disgust and started towards the door, “One of these days JT you’re gonna say something you’ll regret and someone will take you serious. For gods sake grow up. You stay out of trouble and we’ll see about lifting your grounding tomorrow. Go clean your room and then we can talk about trust!” As she walked out the door I sneered while under my breath I spoke bravely, “Yea fucking right, my groundation! What a fucking joke!”
I was pissed off because most everyone else I know is at the Civic Center at the Jethro Tull concert and I’m stuck here because I missed and assignment in social studies. Social Studies, another joke! Anyway this acid is gonna start coming on in a while so I need to prepare. Time to head up into my sanctuary away from this screwed up world. Up to my bedroom which I share with my older brother who just won’t move out so I can have it to myself. 22years old and still living home the damn loser. Not me man as soon as I turn eighteen I’m outta this shithole of a house. Fuck it, at least I will be tripping my brains out tonight. Little did I know how close to literal that would become.

The cid was kicking in so I got settled in. What to do? First things first. I lit some patchouli incense and turned on my blacklight to make my psychedelic posters burst with colors and movement. I pranced over to my cheap stereo to choose an album. Being in a Jimi mood I put on Bold As Love, side A. It starts off with a funny UFO spoof then quickly kicks into a typical Jimi Hendrix guitar explosion. The album was awesome and premium tripping material. I laid back on my bed and began seeing some very strange visions. The ceiling was normally blank but because of the LSD I perceived it to be full of images, most of which were moving like a film strips. Popeye strangling Brutus, Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote running in circles like a dog chasing its tail, and that sort of thing. High def hallucinations. After watching these assorted hallucinations awhile I had to keep reminding myself that they weren’t real. Then I focused on one in particular, Wimpy humping Olive Oyl and he was pumping away to the music. Popeye, Brutus, and an array of cartoon character I don’t remember were all watching and cheering them on. Olive was panting and moaning her skinny and boney legs way up in the air, and Wimpy had lost some weight and was unbelievably in time with the music, thrusting along with the chords. Other characters were clapping, Olive was screaming “Ohhhh Popppppeye!!!“ and Wimpy kept saying “I’ll gladly pay you Tuesday for a good fucking today” still pumping as if dancing. I laughed out loud until I realized something strange. Not that the scene wasn’t already strange enough but this was scary strange. The music Wimpy was humping to was not the album I put on. As a matter of fact it was music I never heard of before, filled with really weird electronic sounds. I jumped up, the hallucinations disappeared and I ran to my stereo. The album was over and I had no clue how long ago it ended.
I shook my head trying to get straight and flip the album over. I stood to reassure myself, “Its just a trip JT, you’re tripping and everything’s okay. Only a trip, it’s the acid, none of this is real.” Feeling only slightly better I headed back to my bed but someone stopped the album. When I looked over it started again, then happened once more. I was certain my asshole brother had come home, knew I was tripping and thought it would be funny to goof on me. “hey cut it out man, that’s not funny!” No response. I looked around. No sign of Robert, no one anywhere, but the music was now playing normal. I turned to get back to my bed when one of my posters, an American Indian chief with tie dye colors all around him began moving. He was breathing and flexing his muscles, holding up a tomahawk. “Holy fuck! This isn’t fucking real man, it can’t be.”
The full force of the five hits of acid were hitting me now. I slinked back into bed and closed my eyes tight but they kept popping open. I had to keep reminding myself I was tripping so I wouldn’t flip out. Can’t sleep, no one to talk to, I gotta see myself through this. But right now I have to take a pee. Off to the bathroom. One of the things about tripping is it intensifies every feeling, whether its making love like never before, hearing music that pulls at your soul, or even pissing. Even better than that pee held in during a long road trip waiting for the next rest top. But there is another oddity when tripping, when you see am image of yourself and its distorted you need to focus and look away before you begin to freak out thinking its how you really look. As I turned from the toilet bowl I was confronted with a full length mirror that had a most frightening and imposing figure staring back at me.
Everything seemed to come to a halt, even time itself. I was staring at a foreboding image of myself painted like a warrior of some sort complete with a bizarre war paint. Split directly down the center of my face and body was a line, on the right side everything yellow except two stripes of dark brown war paint on my forehead angling upwards, a semi circle around my eye, and two more stripes on my cheek in a downward angle. My left side was a dark brown yang to the bright yellow yin. I must say I looked fierce. I stared for a few seconds trying to intellectualize the event and put it into perspective but my perspective had gone out for a walk in the woods and I wasn’t sure it would ever return. The war paint began breathing, or pulsating and changing colors. War paint of dark brown, bright yellow, and dayglo orange were spinning around my face. My cheeks were drooping, my nose twisted and my forehead protruded immensely. I was hideous, a worse image than finding a face full of pimples the day of a date. I issued a long drawn out “Ohhhh My God” and forced myself away from the image. Like I was a Piccaso portrait escaping from a Salvador Dali landscape Nothing was real, I had never come close to hallucinating this hard. I trembled and forced myself to head back to my sanctuary feeling like I was stepping on feathered mattresses repeating “that wasn’t you. That wasn’t you” as my Mantra.
“Shit man, I gotta get a hold of myself here and start enjoying this again. Where the fuck is Popeye and shit?” I thought I was alone but to my surprise I received an answer. “maybe I can help.” I looked about the room, no one here, only me. Oh Jesus now I’m hearing hallucinations. I walked over to the stereo thinking it may have come from the speakers. Nothing. I laid down and tried meditating when a butterfly fluttered in front of me and landed on my chest. I stared in confusion when out of nowhere it began to talk to me. That is to say it communicated to me, it didn’t actually move its lips and speak. It communicated in an unspoken language it called the language of the cosmos.
TBC

Sexual In Your Window

sexendo

“Dad, what does sexual in your window mean?” Not a question I was prepared to answer my four year old because part of me wanted nothing to do with a conversation involving sexual innuendo with my daughter and the other part, that premature, I mean immature part of me wanted to make a joke about sex, stalking, and peeping Toms. But the question was asked and I had to attempt to explain it. Other questions followed as she grew up like the one that nearly caused me to drive off the road after she inquired what “Dad, what does eff you” mean? She even lifted her middle finger to extenuate the inquiry on our way to kindergarten. Or the time a few years later when she wanted to know why everyone was mad at President Clinton for doing oral sex with Lewis Insky. That one took some serious thinking because it was on the news hourly. Anyway, here’s how NOT to explain sexual innuendo to a child.

Sexual innuendo, double entendres or just sex puns. The more you play with it the bigger it gets so think long and hard before entering. Once you rise to the occasion you can go deeper and deeper into it. I try not to use sexual innuendos much because using them incorrectly can make you go down, and then its not easy to get it up again. Just about anything you pull out of your vocabulary can hint at one sexual practice or another. Something as normal as wood becomes a solid morning image and if its not standing tall its hard to beat. We use wood to erect structures and if a woman is looking for it you can give her the lumber and she’ll crack a smile. It can get downright indecent which is to say is if its long enough, hard enough, and deep enough, its in decent.
Maybe its because we have so many nicknames for our sex organs. Penis, dick, prick, cock, wiener, boner, and these are just some the ones that can be ‘slipped in’ a normal conversation. I grabbed the thorn bush and pricked myself. If I fold it over I will be half cocked. I like my wiener on nice soft buns and so do my buddy’s Dick Hertz and Hugh Jerkoff. On one hand you could have the member and in the other the shaft, its stiff competition between the two. Its easy to make a boner.
The vajay jay is no different. Vagina, pussy, snatch, twat, slit, box. The pussy cat slit the box with her claw to snatch the magic prize. The lady garden cream pie has been compared to a beaver, kitty, love pie, love tunnel, and a poon whatever the hell that is. The nether regions get explored with a cave dwelling love stick in search of a happy humping with an exciting climax. With so many slang terms for the various sex acts and the tools used to perform them its near impossible not to cum across an innuendo.
Basically I try not to give a bang to innuendos because on the hole they take a lickin’ and keep on tickin’ but they often slip out and you could get screwed in the end. I can’t put my finger on it but most of us have our minds in the gutter and like it there. A man and woman like to get something straight between them and they can do that by acting on whatever pops up.

Sex is in our face all the time sometime even sitting on it. We use sexual sport analogies, I got to second base then went in for the score. My bat was raised and her glove was open. Touchdown! In food, what she needs is a hot beef injection, maybe I should give her my sausage. I’m so hungry I could eat at the “Y”, maybe have a bearded clam or fur lined taco. Automotive, give her a lube job with my dipstick, that’ll grease my nuts. We are constantly pre-occupied with sex. Even the technical explanation of why we laugh at sex jokes is suggestive. What comes off our tongues is processed in our pre frontal cortex and the laugh cums in and out of the temporal lobe. We love getting it on and from what I hear men think about doing it every sex seconds while it takes a women sixty nine. No wonder everything we hear can relate back to sex.

A common vulgar sexual term is fuck. Popular misconception is it came from Fornication Under Consent of King, or Forced Unlawful Carnal Knowledge, and while an entertaining bit of trivia the truth is it a derivative of some dudes name, John Fukker. But that doesn’t stop us from fucking an sucking our way into a multitude of sneaky ways to get it in a conversation. Getting laid, the old in and out, screwing, humping, banging, poking, shagging, or other acts like going down on, sucking off, polishing the helmet, giving head, eating out, jacking off, and on an on. There must be fifty ways to fuck your lover. We love double in tenders and in your endo’s.
So I will try to keep you abreast of innuendos and entendres without making you feel the boob. I usually put out on the first date because I’m loose. I prefer it tight but I’ll take it anyway I can get it. It will help me if you respond to my explorations because I do have a big ego but I prefer to not stroke my own. I like having it stroked for me. If you’re up for it we can enter a discussion but I suck at them and I get licked in debates. Then I end up with it all over my face. Hope I laid it out for you in a way will stand up in court……..Piece, I mean PEACE

Winter Warning

ima

Squirrels play with their nuts all the time. Not because they can, but because they must. They need to hide their nuts in the winter to keep them warm, and who in their right mind wouldn’t prefer their nuts warm? I know I do. But its hard to keep your nuts warm in winter. When one walks through Manhattan in the winter you can smell nuts roasting out in the open, people sing about roasting nuts on a open fire, but squirrels know the best place for their nuts. Underground. They store their nuts away so they still have them when spring comes back.
On the way in to work this morning I noticed the hometown squirrels being overactive which can mean only one of two things. Either they found a supply of red bull which would explain their activity when crossing the road, running halfway out, changing their squirrel minds before heading back, only to change there minds again and continue heading across the street. Very indecisive. They scramble on the road like that all while tons of metal boxes on wheels come charging directly at them. That’s clearly a reaction from someone over-caffeinated. If they haven’t found a stash of energy drinks then they’re squirrel sense is tingling a warning that this winter is gonna be hella cold with massive snows. Squirrels are not optimists by nature, they generally see the oak tree as half full of nuts but if nothing else they are weather intuitive. So if you see them more active and busy than usual hiding their nuts underground its because they know something we don’t. They know some big snowstorms are coming our way. Squirrels can actually be heard laughing at us on ground hog day because we take the word of Punxsutawney Phil’s predictions about winter. Groundhogs have as much meteorological credibility as our local News agency’s weatherperson. But the squirrel knows and the ones in town are acting crazed so brace yourselves North East, we may be in for something long hard and cold. Protect your nuts..Peace