while you’re at it, set up a sitemeter and comments, too.

okay, nevermind. i’ll do that.

okay we NEED a new template for this site.
i am going to work on one.

things are starting to get good here. heh. joy!

in 1989, as revolutionaries began their assault on the berlin wall, i was in the closet at my boyfriend’s house, with my ankles up by my ears. it occurred to me, between gasps, that this was probably an extremely significant historical event, and here i was, getting plowed, with a chair barring the door. not exactly the same as the ‘when jfk was shot’ stories, is it?

still a totally accurate reflection of my life.

okay I HAVE to whip out the cock stories now. little miss nasty over here started it so blame her…

I am guessing that I was about age 16 when I realized that body size has nothing to do with cock size.
I swear he was like 6′4″ and I hadn’t seen him for years and here he was all big and buff and grownup. hell, I really wanted to fuck him.
unfortunately I chose to stat by sucking his dick. and when I got his pants off I was SHOCKED. pinky finger is right. geez.
anyway. I sort of wish I had had the nerve to just stop there….
but I didn’t and it was pretty pointless.

later I had a long term boyfriend with a really small dick. a normal condom didn’t fit him. at all. he would special order these small condoms. but they were too big too.
I would think, “shit what if I marry this guy? will I never get to have that freshly just fucked feeling again?” fortunately we broke up.

I have also had the impotent boyfriend. it was really really irritating.
but at least there is no getting around that. you have to talk about it. and you can blame them. and you can make them fuck you with a dildo or something.
that dude left me his dildo when we broke up. it was GREAT. it was one of those ones that vibrate and rotate AND it had a special little aardvark shaped piece that vibrated specially for your clit.
how sweet.

I could go on…but I have other shit to do.

ugh.
how can my emotions fluctuate so wildly?

you didn’t.

yes, i did. we did.

how did you manage that, exactly?

you know the strip of road where there are no houses and no streetlights out back of the forest? the one where all the rich kids go to drag race their daddies’ hot new cars?

yeah. t. and i drag-raced there last weekend.

we were on a double date, with b. and r., and they were making out in the front seat of r.’s big-ass car. and then i guess he thought b. was gonna give him some, like that would ever happen, and he told me and s. to take a walk, if you know what i mean.

that sucks. where’d you go?

the strip was right around the way, and we took a blanket to sit on so we could watch the races. we made our way to the median in the middle of the road, where the trees are planted all nice in a row. and we sat on the blanket and watched.

is this going to get exciting, or what?

is it me? of course it will. so between races, we started kissing and making out some. and then he said it was too bad we didn’t have our own car so we could take it further, you know. and i smiled at him and told him we could. s. is so cute when he’s confused. so i climbed under the blanket and wiggled out of my clothes and lay there, bare-assed on the concrete in the middle of the road. he got really flustered but also excited at the taboo of it all.

so did he…?

yeah, he did. he climbed under there and got on top of me, and we did it. twice. it was really cool.

didn’t anyone catch you?

nah. they were all driving by too fast to even notice us. then when we saw r. later, the look on his face was the ‘i didn’t score’ look, he was real annoyed-like. and we just smirked at him, cause he couldn’t have imagined in his wildest dreams that with no place private to go we would still get lucky. but then he wasn’t the lucky type.

I am definitely approaching my sexual prime. at least sex has never been quite so good a the last few years.
now I need a partner who doesn’t take for-fucking-ever.

what I want to do. and it seems eminently reasonable.

is contact that guy I made out with at that rave a few months ago.

he wrote me the nicest email ‘you are so pretty, I like talking to you, can I take you out sometime’ kind of email.
but I never wrote him back because I panicked.

but I could write him back now.
and I could say:
hey cute totally buff older dude with two kids,
want to be my fuck buddy?
maybe you have another boy who could join us occasional? eh? how about it?
maybe then I wouldn’t have to feign emotional attachment.and I could just enjoy some sex without all the hassle.

or do I just think I want that.
I really am not sure.
hell. masturbation is so much easier and faster and less messy.

ORIGIN OF LOVE
When the earth was still flat,
And the clouds made of fire,
And mountains stretched up to the sky,
Sometimes higher,
Folks roamed the earth
Like big rolling kegs.
They had two sets of arms.
They had two sets of legs.
They had two faces peering
Out of one giant head
So they could watch all around them
As they talked; while they read.
And they never knew nothing of love.
It was before the origin of love.

The origin of love

And there were three sexes then,
One that looked like two men
Glued up back to back,
Called the children of the sun.
And similar in shape and girth
Were the children of the earth.
They looked like two girls
Rolled up in one.
And the children of the moon
Were like a fork shoved on a spoon.
They were part sun, part earth
Part daughter, part son.

The origin of love

Now the gods grew quite scared
Of our strength and defiance
And Thor said,
“I’m gonna kill them all
With my hammer,
Like I killed the giants.”
And Zeus said, “No,
You better let me
Use my lightening, like scissors,
Like I cut the legs off the whales
And dinosaurs into lizards.”
Then he grabbed up some bolts
And he let out a laugh,
Said, “I’ll split them right down the middle.
Gonna cut them right up in half.”
And then storm clouds gathered above
Into great balls of fire

And then fire shot down
From the sky in bolts
Like shining blades
Of a knife.
And it ripped
Right through the flesh
Of the children of the sun
And the moon
And the earth.
And some Indian god
Sewed the wound up into a hole,
Pulled it round to our belly
To remind us of the price we pay.
And Osiris and the gods of the Nile
Gathered up a big storm
To blow a hurricane,
To scatter us away,
In a flood of wind and rain,
And a sea of tidal waves,
To wash us all away,
And if we don’t behave
They’ll cut us down again
And we’ll be hopping round on one foot
And looking through one eye.

Last time I saw you
We had just split in two.
You were looking at me.
I was looking at you.
You had a way so familiar,
But I could not recognize,
Cause you had blood on your face;
I had blood in my eyes.
But I could swear by your expression
That the pain down in your soul
Was the same as the one down in mine.
That’s the pain,
Cuts a straight line
Down through the heart;
We called it love.
So we wrapped our arms around each other,
Trying to shove ourselves back together.
We were making love,
Making love.
It was a cold dark evening,
Such a long time ago,
When by the mighty hand of Jove,
It was the sad story
How we became
Lonely two-legged creatures,
It’s the story of
The origin of love.
That’s the origin of love.

Song written by Stephen Trask

the small man
he wanted to fuck me pretty bad, i could tell. i’m good at telling those things. it’s a gift. okay, men are just pretty fucking obvious. all the time.

we were sort of friends. we went to school together, and he was a year older than me. he spelled his name funny, which made me wonder about him. like instead of spelling it r-i-c-k, he just spelled it r-i-c. what the fuck? he was nice enough though, and he made with the pot sometimes. he drove a little pickup truck which could only legally hold two people. in which i once got a $55 ticket for not wearing a seatbelt because i was straddling the gearshift when there were four of us in his truck. $55 is a lot of money when you’re seventeen.

he came home with me once; i think it was the day after my senior prom but i can’t be sure. we made out on the couch and eventually moved to the waterbed. i was ready to be fucked, and he started moaning and groaning, but i didn’t feel anything. i squirmed around a little and finally felt the feathery-light touch of his dick, which was about the size of my pinky finger. i started crying, out loud, tears streaming down my face. (good thing i was something of an actress a liar.) he became very concerned and stopped fucking me, wanting to know why i was so upset. i explained to him that having sex reminded me of my ex-boyfriend of two years, with whom i had broken up a few months before. i apologized and told him i couldn’t continue, and he completely understood. he bought me flowers or something later.

i always felt a little guilty for lying, but part of me is glad i’m not the one responsible for crushing the ego of an eighteen year-old with a little dick. maybe later it grew. turns out he grew a brain tumor or something a few years later, after i moved away from home, and he doesn’t remember anything from before the tumor, and his friends and family have to build the memories for him with photographs and stuff. he’s not brain damaged or anything, the tumor surgery just took away his long-term memory. sort of opposite of the guy in memento.

the big man
he was a friend of my boyfriend’s, and he wanted to fuck me too. my boyfriend and i were on the verge of breakup (again), and i was really tired of his shit. i had never cheated on anyone before, but this guy treated me like a goddess and made me want to. he was a little shorter than me, and his body was lean, narrow everywhere, but rippling with sinewy muscle. i expected from him an average-sized cock.

i went to his house after school a few times a week when my boyfriend had detention or something so we could make out. there was mad chemistry between us, and chemistry is something i still have difficulty arguing with, even now. i lined him up as my new boyfriend when the old one and i finally called it quits. i let him take a polaroid of my bare tits. after a while, the making out evolved into more, with urgency.

one day, i decided to fuck him already, which he was (of course) cool with. we had done a lot of bumping and grinding, but neither of us had ever actually been naked below the waist before. i got naked and climbed on top of him, removing his pants as seductively as i could. then i saw it. it was, in length, the distance from my wristbone to the crook of my elbow, no kidding. its girth would make any porn star jealous. he was only seventeen. and it wasn’t even completely hard yet.

i quickly decided that such a cock would likely rip me in half, and took it as a sign that i wasn’t meant to cheat on my boyfriend, no matter how estranged we were. i left the premises, immediately and kind of in shock. my boyfriend later found out and used it as an excuse to break up with me, which was fine. i made a point of telling him why i didn’t fuck his friend.

the moral
size matters. average men, have no fear; a quarter of an inch more or less isn’t going to affect my decision to fuck you. abnormally small men, run. men with elephantitis of the penis, hide. bring not your cock into my comfort zone, for it will be summarily evicted.

last year. for the first time in years.

there was a strangeness in the air between us, stranger even than when we used to fool around in high school. we never considered it cheating, even if we were both dating someone else. we were in another time zone, after all. and we never went all the way.

they wouldn’t know. nobody ever knew.

we always stayed up later than everyone else. we were the younger generation, the one with more energy to spare than the people who went to bed at a decent hour, the people who got up with the sun to have coffee and read newspapers, the people who had to eat a salad every night because their doctors said so. our late tv nights were, therefore, completely inconspicuous.

there, in the living room, in the blue of moonlight and the flickering television, he worshiped me, worshiped my body and me. he never asked for a thing in return. not a kiss, not anything. he never undressed. he wanted only to look at my body, to touch it and smell it and taste it. his lips never even touched mine. if it was wrong, it felt right. we were never caught.

to see him again was awkward. we have both gained weight. we have both been married, and have children, and he is recently divorced. years ago, when he got engaged to his ex-wife, when we were still close, he teased that he couldn’t resist redheads, because of me. because he couldn’t resist me.

things from childhood, irresponsible or spontaneous or shameful things, seem easily forgotten. they leap from boxes of memorabilia in the attic to surprise and embarrass you, like emotional boogeymen. in the sensible light, by the responsible rules of your adult life, they leave you incredulous, willing to swear they didn’t really happen. you convince yourself it was all just wishful thinking, or something your best friend had done. not you, never you.

in his eyes, and in the well-well-well grin on his face, was the evidence that they did happen. that they happened to both of us. that we did those things together.

and what now?

he tells me, vehemently, that my dad is an asshole.

no shit.

he explains to me why my dad is an asshole. that he is domineering and hypocritical and stubborn and makes his own plans for everyone else without consulting them. that he totally runs my mother’s life.

takes one to know one, i say.

yup I’ve got it.
I hate her sometimes.
I don’t care if he molested her.
I just fucking don’t care.
she makes everyone be all up in her business.
she totally screwed me when I was only 16. totally thoughtless. and totally pointless. fuck her.

I am glad I stood up for myself then.

why should she expect everyone to WANT her around?
fine he molested her. well then don’t fucking have anything to do with him again. ever. don’t expect everyone to be outraged and disown him but then not do it yourself.

her: but I worry that he would try to take revenge by hurting my kid…
me: oh do shut your hole please. okay hes like 87. and lives 3000 miles away from you. your the one who is bringing yourself and your kid to him.
just don’t go fucking see them then MORON.

she is always always the center of attention.

I just watched her to it to this other person recently.
she whooshed in and insinuated herself into every fucking part of his life and now is bored and not the object of his unrequited crush anymore so she is just gone.

I hate him too. I have only talked to him once and seen him once since I was 17. and I don’t care to see him before he dies. I just fucking wish he would hurry the fuck up.

more big sad eyes today.
grrrrr.

jeez. lame.
stupid baggage.

she says:
somehow your skin is not very thick about this kin of thing
she says:
maybe because at one time you had a lot of extra stroking and approval?
other says:
that’s probably it
she says:
i never had that. so i never expect it.
she says:
sad? or handy?

so. i was at this party.

(why do a lot of these posting have to do with women and sex?)
((just wondering))

anyway. this party.
all girls clearly.
but oh so cute girls. and drunk. and all over each other. and naked.

i really actually dont want to fuck anyone. i just like to squeeze a little and pet and make out a little.

but at the same time girls/women are alien to me.

so the cutest one of all. and the other cutest one of all were both all touching me and stuff. and while i wanted to just enjoy it it made me uncomfortable. i am not even sure why. it isnt like they were trying to fuck me. we were just all drunk.

however if we had all been on *insert one letter drug name here* say, out in the woods. or at a more hectic party…

whatever.

i think what disturbed me was that they are older than me and i used to consider them her friends.