most of the old fogies and biddies won’t even know what or why a skin is, much less how to use one. sort of like fratboys and condoms.

it does seem sort of like the golden fleece though. i am argonaut!

although if argonauts died in the quest and never actually completed it i think i should maybe aspire to something else. possibly i am instead odysseus? then i could definitely work in my perilous encounter with the cyclops on the eighth floor…

and limping too. that would be a direct result of the absofreakinglutely amazing sex. the timing is precarious and difficult to capture precisely but just before my period it is like all the foreplay problems i have ever had are dead and gone… increased blood flow to the area possibly? perhaps a hormonal thing? it is strange indeed but a much lighter touch is all it really takes to get me going when i am like that. after i kissed him twice i was more than ready.

the blowjob i gave him was urgent, and the second one was relentless. and even before the sex i realized that i would have to change the sheets immediately after.

my knees and thighs and hips ache pleasantly when i am going up and down the stairs.

is it very sad indeed that i am contemplating skinning my corporate intranet?

also, will he fall in love with me? will i fall in love with him? or will some little thing make us irritated and drift apart?

or worse, will he reject me because i want him to go down on me, wont jump out of an airplane and have too much acne?

does any of that matter? are girls the only ones who worry about these things? can i just ask him these questions?
or is that lame?
i never know. sometimes i realize that i have been too blunt and that that just asking ruins the natural order of things.

i think that i was rude or something twice this weekend. sometimes i am clueless. sometimes i say things i don’t mean. sometimes i am accidentally condescending as a defense mechanism

how is it that many men make it to their 30’s and still do not understand how girls work?

or is it me?

am i the only girl in the entire universe who isn’t instantly dripping wet at the site of their boyfriend? thereby being able to lift their skirt and fuck at any given moment with no need for foreplay of any kind? ever?

i think he does not like to go down on me. i cant comprehend this. not only have i never had a guy not eager to go down on me but i also really like to give head. so i almost always want to go down on the guy. and i do it of my own volition. i want him to also go down on me without me having to ask or subtly move his head down there.

if we fuck and he comes first he better not roll off me and act as tho that’s the end.

i have no recollection of how i wound up in a town three hours from home, one of four unclothed people grinding away amid a sea of sleeping partygoers. possibly it was the shots? shots do that. and lord knows i’m a shot girl.

she wanted me to watch her, straddling her boyfriend, writhing and clawing and making strange gutteral noises. he wasn’t the type, but i suspect he figured he would shoot first and ask questions later. she encouraged me to copy, and i did, to the delight of him that looked like jesus. i glanced around nervously to be sure the sleepers were still sleeping and not squinting their eyes to peek. i had to shush her about forty-eight times.

her boyfriend went to the bathroom then, covering his furry pet with a hastily located hot rod magazine from the coffee table. i pretended not to see, but i did. as soon as he was out of the room, she crawled over to me and got in my face, biting my lower lip and staring wontonly into my eyes. she put my hands on her full breasts. her right hand searched furtively for my spot, and found it, with three short strokes. i gasped in surprise and fear and pleasure and confusion. entirely too quickly, her boyfriend was back and she scurried back to her side of the rug.

i don’t remember seeing her again after that.

it took entirely too many days to get sex that time. i was plotting and scheming to get it but the planetary alignment was just wrong somehow. gladly boy did call me urgently yesterday.

he is sexy. everyone thinks so.

also: genius meat truck driver who took the parkway today in a moment of sheer idiocy can and should fuck right off at earliest possible opportunity. or else pay me for the half hour i was late.

dick.

boy is wholly unimpressed by limes and hairlessness. also apparently the cleanliness thing doesn’t mean a whole helluvalot.

fortunately however the bra gets him. so it’s either that or trivial pursuit at which he always kicks my ass.

girl said she almost called me this weekend but something came up. i am encouraged.

my house is clean. was clean until people came over that is. made awesome mexican food feast and had much rowdy fun conversation. limes make the world a nicer place.

i did laundry too. i’m wearing the nice bra. i shaved everywhere, and fully intend to have sex tonight.

come hell or high water.

people can and do change. all the time. for worse and also for better.

i am living proof.

enough with the fucking drama people!! i swear to santa claus, are we not fucking adults?!

when someone wrongs someone very close to you and makes you look like an idiot for knowing someone who would do that, even though the person didn’t do it on purpose, how many years have to go by before it is okay for the offender and the victim to be in the same room together?

i wonder if an apology was ever made. if there wasn’t, would that make a difference?

still though, it was a million years ago. we were all much younger, and stupid. but you have got to be kidding me that this is still something that is on your mind every single day of your life? especially on the most important day of your life?

that person that you are close to is not the only one in the world with rights. and if you cannot recognize that then possibly you should not speak to me ever again.

dick.

everything felt like a traffic jam today. there was a traffic jam at the post office. the guy kept ringing the little bell and the guy at the front of the line was clueless. after ten of the bell he finally rejoined planet earth at which point everyone behind him grumbled and jostled around. the bank was no better, and i had to wait eight (!!!) minutes for a fucking gas pump. i also saw a bus nearly plow right into a man who was about nine hundred years old AND who had the right of way because his signal was clear. of course the traffic sucked balls all the way there and back. i was cut off no less than four times inside two minutes because a) one lane was closed for construction and b) the other lane had a cop who had pulled someone over and c) the road is only four lanes and d) all other drivers are assholes.

i actually yelled out my (closed) window at the cop whose ability to determine the most ideal place to pull someone over for anything. dude that guy better have fucking shot someone for you to be making it take fifteen minutes for me to drive twenty feet, ok? the city’s finest, whatEVER.

oh and one more thing? running lights is assholish (you should know, you use your siren to do it every day don’t you) but come on, taking pictures of people who run lights and then sending them tickets in the mail because you couldn’t be in a million places at once sort of sucks ass. as does cruising down the (wrong side of the!!) street just looking at inspection stickers and calling them in to see if they are valid or whatever. because that person is at home and not bothering a fucking thing. if they are out driving or whatever okay and certainly if you pull them over for something else add that expired reggie ticket on top of it. but how much does it suck that you maybe don’t have a driveway because you rent, ergo you cannot safely park your car in this town.

a big round of applause please for Emmie and this fabulous new redesign! thanks Emmie!!!

girl A is cute and we have really a lot in common.
girl B is really cute and we have most stuff in common.
girl C is not cute but we still have a lot in common.

last week we were all milling about and i thought how strange it was to have all three girls at my disposal simultaneously. then i thought what if girls A and B like each other better than girl C and me and i am cut out completely? alternately who do i like better, girl A or girl B?

girl B mused about how it was cool to hang out with girls she had stuff in common with. girl A smiled but seemed a little distant and had to leave. i suggested we do it again only next time on purpose and girls B and C nodded. at which point girl C whipped out a pen and paper and wrote down two copies of her phone number and passed them out to me and girl B. she offered me the pen and paper but i already had my pen and wrote my number on the back of a receipt from the mini-mart. i could sense the vibe of girl B not liking girl C. and i did not want to put her in a weird spot so i did not offer her my pen or paper, so girl C wouldn’t have her number if girl B didn’t want her to. so i had girl B and girl C’s numbers, and girl A gave me her number a few months ago. and more importantly girl B had my number. but would she call me?

a few days later i ran into girl B without girls A or C. she said it was weird because nobody offered her the pen and she thought we didn’t want her number. i hastily explained that i didn’t want to make her feel uneasy, but that i will certainly accept her number if she wants to give it. she said she did, but neither of us had pen and paper. so i asked if she had e-mail and she said yes and told me the address which was easy to remember. i said i would e-mail her and she could reply with her phone number. after i left i realized i could have just programmed it into my cell phone. but then how does that look? i would think of it as just a place to store the number until i got home, but would she freak out at the idea of me being able to call her from anywhere at anytime? is that stalkerish? i thought it possibly was…

i e-mailed her that night. the next day i got a bounced mail notice because she was blocking everything except addresses she already knew. i saw her the next day after that and told her about it, and she acted like she had forgotten all about it. so i told her to punch her number into my cell phone and i would save it there.

now i don’t know whether to call or not. because at the beginning she sounded indignant thinking we didn’t want her number. then when i tell her i do there are suddenly all these obstacles to me actually getting her number? i have it but do i use it?

this is precisely why i have mostly dated men, they are so much easier to read and anticipate and (sorry) manipulate when necessary.

when she said she didn’t want to and gave me that look that she gets when she has her mind made up i told her not to fuck with me because i would not hesitate to plant my foot square in her ass.

she huffed but she didn’t go anywhere after that…

now one of my old posts from august of last year replaced all the apostrophes with question marks. but only in that one post. and it looks fine in mt.

dude, whatever.

i need some good written porn or erotica to read to my sweetie.

what are peoples favorites out there?

i have always loved giving blow jobs. it’s somehting about the power dynamic that i love. i don’t know.

i always swallow. i figure… it’s already in my mouth. swallowing it gets rid of it faster and more throughly than spitting it out. and it’s less messy.

more about this later when i’m not at work…

seems that smallerizing the fonts a bit helped? tell me if they are too small. but that’s more easily modified than tinkering with the delicate width balance of all the columns…

also. someone please tell me if you know why sometimes the name graphic of one person does not show up but the other person’s does? when both files are in the right directory and the links point there. and clicking “show picture” makes them all come back. and this is ONLY in ie 6.

i am starting to hate ie 6 once again and i ponder switching entirely to opera…

thanks much to etherdust who pointed out that the italics in an entry on the index page are making the layout screw the pooch. problem now is, i use italics a lot and therefore must figure out a way around this issue because it is the same way on the archive pages. also only some italicized entries seem to bother it, not all of them. weird.

now can we please talk about why it all looks fine on the test site and not here? i’m on the verge of tears here.

adrian? you came through for me last time…

was looking through an old notebook journal of mine the other day. the one i keep in my underwear drawer.
the entry went something like this:

do not dump current boyfriend. he requires almost no upkeep.

hahaha. am i bitch or what?

i wrote something like this post a while ago. but i lost the word doc i wrote it in. i think. either that or i _did_ post it and now you poor shmoes will be forced to read it again… or skip it. you choose.
this one will probably suck since i don’t have a lot of time, nor have i thought out the new things i wanted to add.

i want to be happy but have never dared to be. what if i was happy and it was all snatched away from me? how could i possibly put my happiness in the hands of someone else? does my happiness have to depend on someone else?

i once was grumpy about a friend being all happy. and she said something along the lines of “wait until you’re happy and see how you act” she meant it to sting and it did. she was implying that i would never be happy and that it was me and my attitude that would prevent it. MY FAULT.
I’m sure she was right. i sometimes tell myself that i will throw myself head first into things i do, disregard all previous baggage, rejections, worries etc.
but i don’t think i ever really do. and i want to. i have a mental block. it’s like writers block right? with the correct stimulus it will disappear? it will disappear with time? okay i DO NOT have any more time. but then, that is also a bad attitude.

i must lose my communication block. NOW. or my relationships will suffer more than they already have.

okay… apparently it looks fine on netscape 7.1 and opera 7. but on ie 6 for some reason it looks right on the test site and wrong here. any ideas for a fix? anyone?

fucking browser wars.

someone please tell me why here the blogroll runs off down the page and yet at the test site it works fine?! i copied and pasted the code from there exactly. and i also checked my paths afterwards.

i get all excited when the test works and then i’m crushed when it doesn’t work live.

i’m bored again. i love roxy and everything, she’s so cute! but i am working on a brighter, cleaner design. replete with valid css code from somebody’s generator… i am waiting on opinions from the other girls before rewriting the code.

sigh.

someday i will not only skin the site but i will also write my own code from start to finish. and i might even understand it.

semen, fruit-flavored semen, or fruit-flavored latex instead of semen? i like giving blowjobs and stuff but i have never been a money-shot chick. i think i have swallowed maybe twice, ever, and once was on accident. the other was a birthday present.

wait, i think i spit that time. or not. i forget.

i choose to neither spit nor swallow because it seems a less offensive alternative. i mean really it’s either fake it and pretend i love it, in which case my bad acting skills will do me in, or let him see my physical revulsion at something that is a part of him. and i know how that will go over, because i see the way he looks at me with pity and guilt when my eyes are watering after trying really hard to deep-throat.

it is always something men want so badly. since i don’t actually have a dick, can someone please explain to me what the difference is? it makes me feel sort of guilty sometimes when i like the guy.

but if i did swallow, would he give me the moon and the stars?

i am starting to think that possibly i am possessed when i write certain posts because going back through the archives i read things and cannot at all remember writing them. or even thinking them.

if i can’t understand me how can you?

maybe he was actually trying in his socially inept way to say little things sometimes make me think about you. maybe i should be flattered instead of irritated.

so much for mensa membership. it took me three days to figure this out.

sex = amazingly good

however i am not a complete trollop and i actually require some prep time. like a succulent turkey it can take awhile before i am tender and stewing in my own juices.

oh shit that was possibly the worst sex analogy ever. i am so above that.

but what happens is that you are both busy because, hello, it’s the 21st century and nobody else is gonna pay your bills, dammit. and so you are working all the time and when you are not working you are trying like hell not to catch some virus or other which would make you feel like crap and therefore not like having sex at all. of course the beauty of it is that since you are doing all this there is no time or energy for sex anyway.

when i don’t have sex for a long time because i am busy or tired or overworked i think about it less and less until it finally almost ceases to occur to me at all. which means that i am not even considering rectifying it, which means i don’t come onto him at all. (it is much different when my period or something physically keeps me from it, that only makes me obsess over it and want it much much more. totally different dynamic there.) he is of course totally opposite, meaning that the longer he goes without it the more he obsesses over the fact that he has not had it. i think he marks it in his palm or something.

sometimes it will hit me that we haven’t had sex in a long time and that he must be chomping at the bit. and also that it is always good sex and possibly i could go to bed a little later than usual tonight because it is worth it. and then when i am about to come onto him something happens that makes me not – we have a fight or he falls asleep early or company stops by unexpectedly. by the next day he is all over me like white on rice in the first spare five minutes that turn up, and he is all about having a quickie. which is all fine but somehow it totally pushes me away inside and i can’t ever explain this. it’s almost like i am just being contrary, that it is okay for me to want it on my terms but when he wants it on his it pisses me off. which is hypocritical because i hate that about some men. and because i can’t perform pleasurably with five minutes notice, which he is normally very understanding about but at this point there is absolutely not enough time without fucking up the rest of the day, we go our separate ways. and he says he isn’t mad but i think he really is. and i feel sad that i missed an opportunity to get something that i wanted anyway. part of me feels like a little yappy dog, longing for master’s approval and feeling incomplete without it. then my years of feminist training kick in and i bitch at myself for wanting anyone’s approval, but particularly that of a man.

clearly the solution is to never work and yet still have an endless supply of money and time to fuck, no responsibility whatsoever except deciding which tropical island to fly to on the private jet this week, and be naked while looking damn good all the fucking time. the question is how do i do that exactly?

that i want to gaze at his picture while i am at work?

girls can’t win the birth control fight.

condoms only:
this is okay, but sex with condoms does suck if you are in a commited relationship
minor allergy to latex

hormonal birth control:
you gain weight
do not have to use condoms but are way more likely to get a yeast or bacterial infection

non hormonal birth control a la diapragm
not as effective
you have to shove a giant smurf hat into your vagina
do not have to use condoms but are way more likely to get a yeast or bacterial infection

i am irritated by this dilema. which shouold i chose? i like to be skinny. i like sex with no condom.

i have to decide by this sunday.

dear local supermarket chain:

could you please stop putting those cookies i love so much on sale two for the price of one? you are wrecking any diet i might want to possibly start. my sleep cycle is effectively fucked as well due to the fact that said cookies taunt me when i get up to go to the bathroom by whispering ‘eat me’ so low that nobody can hear it but me and the cat.

enclosed please find a receipt for the new jeans i was forced to purchase to accommodate my spreading ass as a result of your money-saving baked goods sale; also please find a photocopy of my prescription for ambien which is not covered by my insurance and costs an assload of money which i don’t have. please send check of compensation to return address on envelope.

love,
emmie

i want to write a book. is it possible to write a book and make money and yet maintain anonymity? i think that nobody publishes under pseudonyms anymore. and at the very least your publisher will have to meet you and know what your real name is so they know where to send the checks. i mean how do you get a bank account with your pen name on it anyway?

also i do not know at all what to write about. the format we have here is sort of effortless and doesn’t require research which i don’t have time for due to my suck-ass day job. however i do not think such a format would go over well in print. possibly i am wrong? i don’t know.

knowing my luck i would write a totally psychotic book in the tradition of naked lunch under fake name and it would be smash hit. and i would have to somehow keep it from everyone i know that i am the author while desperately attempting to not openly wallow in my newfound wealth. or if they did ask where i got the money for that plasma tv i guess i could always just say i was dealing drugs.

at the risk of sounding like cute zen boy on my favorite soap opera, i think i need a silver bullet.

do not be afraid to engage in stereotypical porn scenarios – twins, doctor/patient, teacher/student, having sex with a married person, group sex, objectification, domination, etc.

yes, i know these things are done in porn all the time and that they are cheesy. the reason they are done in porn is because they are tried and true. and when you do it, it will not be cheesy because there is no bow-chicka-bow-bow music.

unless you put in a cd or something.

this may not all work for everyone. but i am going to tell you how i learned to be the sexy smack-talking beyotch i am today. it is not easy particularly if you have trust issues. but i think that having more trust issues than almost anyone i know, if i can learn so can you. so down in front and take some notes, yeah?

they say that men think visually and women think verbally; in other words men supposedly get aroused by seeing something hot or thinking of a hot image while women more enjoy hearing/reading something hot or thinking in terms of description. this is true in my experience. but for the whole dirty talk thing to really work for you and your man (i don’t do this with women – that may have different dynamics, i am not sure), you have to sort of master both visual and verbal. if you are already a writer of sorts (blogging will do) then you are one step ahead.

first of all you have got to look at lots and lots of porn. this is mostly to get ideas for how things look in his head. the bonus here is that you might find out that there are some things that turn you on which you did not know about before. men are pretty fucking creative that way, finding weird porn that you never dreamed existed. look at it with him, so you know what he likes too. and it will turn him on that you are interested in his porn, it is your first step on the road to being his whore queen.

once you can close your eyes and see porn at will, do it while masturbating, then while you are actually having sex with him. don’t do it during foreplay, yet. foreplay is a time when playful conversation is common, and you might get distracted. wait till you get to the part where you are about to come, which requires intense concentration usually anyway.

after you are good with the visual imagery, start with the verbal. again while masturbating, then during sex, think in your head the words that describe the picture you are seeing like you were explaining it to a blind person. (are blind people any good in bed? does lack of sight enhance their other senses? no really, i want to know.) this helps you figure out what words you are comfortable with. for example, although i am uncomfortable with the word cunt in conversation, in bed it is the only word that will do; dick is the stupidest word ever – during sex it can only be a cock.

the next step is only a small leap from the previous one – instead of thinking the words, say them out loud. again it is good to practice when you are by yourself first before moving on to the bedroom. once you are okay with saying the words, start talking sooner, during foreplay, and use the talk to set a scene up for both of you. after you’ve mastered the talk and the timing, work on the tone – breathing words huskily into his ear is very sexy and makes it unlikely anyone will overhear (your next-door neighbor for instance, are your walls as paper-thin as mine are?).

even dirty talk has to be positive, though. the best things to talk about are things you want to do or things that you will do, or what you are. stay away from the negative stuff, it’s a total turnoff.

let me also note that this technique works best while you are in at least a semi-committed relationship with someone you have come to trust. i do not think i could have become the dirty talkstress i am today if i had been bedhopping at the time. there has to be a control, and in my experience, my partner was it. i didn’t have to worry about whether i was pleasing him or if he would ever call me again or if i looked fat in this dress.

however a less complicated thing which will still achieve excellent results with someone you don’t know as well is to simply say perfectly normal everyday things in a totally naughty tone of voice – things which take something innocent and emphasize its sexual connotation even if there is not one. often this is easy with roleplaying, which again gives the impression that you are a kinky wildcat in bed without you having to actually talk dirty. this is also something that everyone can agree on, including people generally turned off by dirty talk (i know, i can’t imagine it either but i hear that some people are). for example:

you: i think i pulled a muscle. could you take a look at it, doctor?
him: (catching on) of course. where does it hurt?
you: (taking his hand and putting it somewhere saucy) here.
him: i’ll need a nurse to witness your examination. nurse!
you: what a pretty nurse.
him: do you like her? she will take good care of you…

and so on. if he doesn’t catch on when you call him doctor, or teacher, or daddy, or priest, or boss, or whatever, kick him to the curb.

additionally make sure that you are not in any way doing this only because he wants you to. i can tell you from experience that talking dirty probably turns me on three times as much as it ever has my partner. but me being turned on is what turns him on, and so it works out awesome for everyone in the end. and for everyone who gets it in the end…

okay you heard me people. get started.

if ever you are worried that you are pregnant do not hesitate to go purchase a pregnancy test.

its like a little magic wand but instead of waving it you piss on it.

once you buy it it is like a little magic recipe for getting your period about an hour later.

i did a lot of fucking this weekend. in fact, too much, since i am a bit chafed or ripped even. but damn it was worth it.

so we fucked in many positions and sudden i found myself in a position i had completely forgotten about. how could i have forgotten! it was so fun!

its the one that makes it feel like you are the guy.
clinical description: girl on top (dick already inserted), guy opens legs and girl moves her legs together to get into classic guy fucking girl missionary position.
it can be a little hard to keep the guy inside you but if you dont get to spastic its great.

so in this position the movements you make make it feel like you are the guy. it made me feel very savage.

i saw her again. and she had on capris and a baby tee and sneakers with no socks. i don’t know who came up with that look but i fucking love it. also she had a tall cup from starbucks in her hand. and her hair was in a ponytail.

i think that she has replaced the cute photo lab girl on my crush list. or maybe just bumped photo lab girl to number two.

i am having that weird sense again that i wonder if other people attracted to the same gender have – that dual impulse where you not only want to be with someone but you want to be them too.

this has never once been a problem with any man i have ever dated. i never said to myself wow he is hot i’d like to fuck him, oh and i would also like to be him so that i could be that cool. because as i have mentioned before (with the exception of the desire to be a man for one day so i could fuck myself) i really don’t want to be a man at all. however there have been numerous girls on whom i have had mad crush which is further confused by sort of idolizing them. it all works out to be a horrific self-esteem issue because not only am i not cool enough to get that girl but i am not cool enough to be that girl.

i drove by her really slowly so i could look at her. i didn’t try really hard to catch her eye though, and it worked. and even though my windows are tinted nobody can mistake the vehicle that i drive. i told you guys about my superhip paint job, right? possibly she will call me and say hey, i saw you the other day but you didn’t see me. what’s up?

probably not.

or would shy, stupid, socially incompetant, mongoloid idiot be better way to describe it.

what the hell is wrong with me? my mind goes completely blank at the worst times. i absolutely dread having to be in the car with someone, eat out with someone, or toherwise be alone with someone. and in fact i dont like to be in groups eitehr. i hate talking about myself, expressing my opnions and the like. i have no opnions.

i am a nonentity.

i wonder what is wrong twith me. i lack depth of character? i do not think i am being to hard on myself. who the hell is going to want to sit around with me while i suddenly freak and stare vaguely into space for an hour will sitting in the car?
once i start worrying about it that is fucking it. i am dookmed. and i always think about it.
but then i start getting pissed. why cant the pther person be talking? why do i have to start everything? but then i realize that my own freaking is probably freaking the other person. pus what if they are a little shy too. are we all doomed?

depth of character. or depth of knowledge?

i am not actually dumb. my brain just has trouble making connections. which is what conversation is all about. maybe i need ot get one of those books about how to have a conversation? maybe i need drugs? maybe i need therapy.

its just so silly. how can i send all night fucking this person, or all night out dancing or whatever and then in the morning be unable to converse? put some beers in me and i am usually fine but fucked otherwise. people still seem to like me for some reason. but this has got to stop.

i sometimes attempt to listen to what other people are talking about just top see what it could be.

what do people talk about? current events? what they ate for diiner? mutal friends? books they have read, what they thought about the boks they have read? their families?

my conversations seem to peter out patheticly after a few exchanges. and i ask irritating questions. someone will say something and since my mind is blank i cant think of anything intelligent to say so in desperation i ask a dumb question. then later think, what the fuck was i thinking?

my other problem is that i am cynical and sarcastic all the time. and i am a whiner.

in other words i suck to be around.

i once read this guys blog and he talked about how he was essentially pretty dumb. but that he made a conserted effort, studied and practiced to become smarter, ie, more articulate. maybe this is what i need?
this fills me with a vague horror.