R & R

2012-01-26T21:10:00.001-08:00

Red. RED. R.E.D. __ There's something about red....

2011-04-12T10:43:00.000-07:00

Red is hardwired into us.

... from earliest childhood (and before)

Part of beauty from the caves.

Uhhhh, ... Next!

Born to it.

She'd look great with me in this!

I've only seen woods this way, in one condition:

"Light my Fire!"

Always red, no matter the weather. Surreal in a snowstorm.

Red. It grows on you.

Posts

2011-04-06T11:42:00.000-07:00

I am going through a phase ... No posts. The railing just falls over.

I have never been anal about posting, prefering the Big Kahuna and utterly inane, that which rips out hearts and soul--or, last night's gas--to posting volume. There will never be the question: Can you live without me for two days instead of one?

There is nothing exciting about perversion, in general, and cerebral specifically. (Leaving you hanging, now.) I am addicted to both. One woman went postal over my comments on her blog. I thought we were just 'peachy keen' friends. Turns out she was a control freak, of her masochism. It's OK. This is what happens at public hangings ... Especially, when they are unplanned.

The other matter I want to bring up (as if you will ever have a choice. No, don't you dare mention it) is .... Ummm, ..... Darn, I forgot. I'll figure it out and let you know, tomorrow. You all are anxious to know, I know.

Oh, yah...! Don't lie. Don't cheat; you only hurt yourself if you do. How many of you take chances and don't use spell check? I have read some blogs where I know the answer without asking. I have this absolutely outrageous fetish for spelling. I think the phobia derived from business. Or, insecurity. I could say totally stupid, dumb-ass shit, but it had to be spelled and grammared correctly. Now, years later, mispelling a word has me all tingley and arroused. Used to be lots, lots of commas.

Note, some mispellings, above, are intentional. What a rush! The real mistakes, are like forgetting to zip your pants after a trip to the urinal, or a three-foot tail of toilet tissue fluttering from the elastic of your pants. The genders share humility on my blog.

Easter Eggs

2011-03-28T11:22:00.000-07:00

Every year we "have to decorate eggs!" The other day I was sent out to cut down a forest for the perfect "egg tree".

I remember when I was wee-little collecting tumble-weeds that skipped over vacant land in the southwestern deserts of the US. The fun part was poking holes into the raw eggs and blowing out the insides, for the shells to hang on the weed tree.
It was simple then.

Over the years complications evolved. Eggs, dye, and weeds all developed hazards, or projected harmful toxicologies. Sucking raw eggs sends us to the emergency room with E-coli. Dyes can't have decent colors, so eggs look anemic after dipping. Tumbleweeds, and trees, are noxious pests--or, protected and require pruning permits.

So, I wonder what happened to the other eggs? The eggs in a pair that resided inside females who don't lay the kind of eggs we suck, or dye, or hang on easter trees ... ? Do simple weighted balls, or balls inside balls, not provide the zing needed? Are toxic plastics, battery waste, and metals mouldering in landfills the safe replacement for stainless steel? Has higher evolution replaced low technology?

Happy St. Pat's Day

2011-03-16T17:15:00.000-07:00

My two favorite colors: One, associated with life and growth. The other, with desire and excitement.

Trauma Comes in Units of Three

2011-03-14T11:08:00.000-07:00

We've been glued to news on TV and web over the weekend. I have. It's a family curse, we wait for, and count, as they occur--hardship happens in groups of three. We hope it is over, but I'm afraid the rule will be broken this time.

For people living on the the "Ring of Fire", or the Pacific Tectonic Plate, natural events of geologic scale are reminders of the insignificance and frailty of humanity. Only humans can assess scales of disruption and pain to themselves and their fellows.

For Japan we see the World's leader in catastrophy prevention and response (prepared for such an event) buckling under the enormity of their injury. The safety measures for construction, put into place years ago, saved inumerable lives from one of the greatest earth quakes in recorded history. It might have been an almost uneventful weekend; just 'one for the record books.'

Nothing Japan or any ocean dependent society could do would stop the ensuing tsunami. We see little of a catastrophic earth quake--dust, broken ceiling tiles, buckled roads. What we are in awe of is a wave, a wall of water swallowing everything in its relentless march across miles of coastal plain. And leaving total destruction.

A third emergency surfaced. Having no traditional resources for electrical power, Japan is threatened by potential radioctive fallout from damaged nuclear power plants. The only people to have suffered the violent use of nuclear power is close to reliving its destructive capabilities, in peaceful use.

I feel the pain and will hear of the impact of this tragedy on loved ones, family, friends living thousands of miles from the devastation. My prayers go to a global family member who represents the definition of respect, strength, and social pride.

Not Quite the Fountain of Youth

2011-03-10T14:58:00.000-08:00

On her way to 60-years young, Wisdom was first identified in 1956, when she was 5 years old ... doing the same thing, raising her kid.

And, we complain about the one, or three, we endured.

Lingerie: It's not just for when you are at the Emergency Room.

2011-02-25T10:18:00.000-08:00

Preview: Sapio Slut's Next Adventure

2011-02-22T18:26:00.000-08:00

Click pic. for full image.

I do have admiration for that girl.

Posted 2/22/2011

"It takes one to know one... and vice versa!"

2011-02-18T11:16:00.000-08:00

It's 'Half-Wit Wisdom' Time-

Following up on the heels of Bogey, here's another oldie (and, still fresh) character from Everyone's dark past.

I always thought Kilroy inspired the image of Afred E. Neuman, but apparently, it was this individual who turns 100 years young soon.

[Memo to self: Submit A.E.N. pic. to Willard Scott at TODAY.]

Rum and .... Cuba libre

2011-01-28T17:17:00.000-08:00

I like my rum! It all started at bamboo Bob's 'Bamboo Barn' on Lake Chatcolette, Id. (That's a few hairpin turns west of St. Maries, ID.) Unfortunately, the Bamboo Barn is gone. But, they made the best cube a' libra. Here's the recipe...

Cuba libre
One tall narrow glass filled with ice.
1 shot light rum
1 shot dark rum
1 shot Lemon Hart rum
1 twist of lime (about the size of 1/4 nut of male)
Balance, Coca Cola.
3 should send you over the edge. Stay away from any boats on lake Coeur d' elene after 3 of these drinks.
(note, I have mispelled every workd of this recipe . ) God, Im drunk....
***************************
For those beyond the above chef-fery, the following works wonders--it's what got me drunked. :

Short, squat, 8 or 10 oz. glass (easier to pour stuff into) filled with ice.
(Smaller hands will prefer a skinnier glass. Just use slightly more than one shot of rum.)
Lime section, squeezed over ice. (Lime is cut into six sections.)
Rum* drizzled over lime, to 1/3 ht. of glass. Half-height is easier to measure.
Balance, Coca Cola drizzled over lime. (About 4oz. - 6oz.)

*Gosling's Black Seal. It has a seal balancing a wood barrel--the kind of seal that sits on flippers, and barks. I've tasted and drank bottles, and bottles of rum. I do like the barrel tossing seal, for both coke and straight. It is the best all round, and mid-pricing slips it into all around good rum perfectly.

New Header Image

2011-01-28T13:12:00.000-08:00

It just occured to me that I am part of a world community.

It is mid-winter here on the west coast of US and Canada, but I rarely see snow, or frost, or even something heavier than a light jacket. However, we get plenty of rain. One spot west of me gets over 300-inches of rain, annually--a temperate rainforest.

So, in honor of all the Ozzies surfing to work now, on this beautiful summer day, I give you an Atlantic winter storm ...

Huhhh???

No Thanks. You Know the Rule

2011-01-22T17:52:00.000-08:00

You know the rule. The one that says: “Nobody wants to see a picture of your dick on the internet, so keep it to yourself.” Well, I've turned over a new leaf. No more male meat from me ... on my blog. It's kind of uncomfortable to exhibit, anyway. Public bathroom courtesy, and all. You know...

I hesitate to bring this up, because far too many guys already think their junk is a special exception. Clue: IT IS NOT.

I think I may have found an exception, however. I’m not really qualified to say, but ... never mind. Anyway. Some of you probably want to see this.

Fetishes and Domestic Harmony

2011-01-21T15:39:00.000-08:00

Fascinations is a better name than fetishes. Call it a fetish and I see archeological artifacts with no function (or purpose, to the inventory catalogers) as “fetishes”. Of fascinations (or, fetishes) I have several, and one: red hair.

After several years without, my redhead wife (W) walked in sporting new, younger hair. It was red, but not her red. Her red long ago morphed into brown with growing hints of grey and white over the years. She always frosted, or sloppy-dyed, except for one refreshing moment before kids that revealed the beauty of her red.

My fascination with red did not start with W. She was a logical interval, but girls with orange carpets dominated my relationships and ‘puppyhood’ long before. Back then, red was common to pre-teen girls and turned rare as they matured. Fortunately, red is popular now, and genetics are helping multiply the most dynamic of coiffed looks.

So, W slammed the front door and announced that there was no way the poor stylist could make money. "She was such a perfectionist!" That meant W liked the basic haircut--a second time in our coupledom--and the stylist. Then, W dropped the proverbial ticking bomb, even though I am so callused to the explosive errors it makes little difference. “She insisted on starting with red. ‘It will make you younger.’” Yes, you do look younger and better without all of the blonde highlights. I patted myself for comprehending the double entrende of her thoughts and statement.

She sucked my praise in and glowed while she described a bunch of color match stuff that meant nothing to me. I prepared her dinner of leftovers and mumbled at appropriate moments. I said nothing about the alien red she sported. It was OK. A red not worth cold silence for a week if I admitted the truth.

Again, she positioned another bomb. It was the doozey, but in her mind the natural progression of human caring and sharing …

“I told Trae she needed to fix your hair.”

I have lost count of all the solutions W has found for my perceived failures and flaws. The worst was her ‘Personal Banker’ who still has her hocked to the gills and 30% usury after running up card debt to the limit within six months of opening the account. All of it in overcharge fees. A shark I smelled, that only perturbed W when I warned a couple days after the heinous attack.

The “fix” for my hair reminded me of an at-home stylist friend of a friend I had to try at W’s pressure. I walked away from that experience with untouched sideburns. Apparently, women’s stylists are restricted from doing certain basic cuts due to licensing limitations. Like a guy with a hangover on Sunday morning and no knowledge of state regulations is going to complain when his sideburns are trimmed.

To ease away from the cold silence potential, I reminded W of my recent fiascos with an alternate chop shop, and that I really enjoyed my crooked and gay relationship with my lady of fifteen years who knows how to keep my sideburns straight.

Soon after, we retired. Me to my snoring and W to her micro-waved dinner. I sneaked peeks and wondered how dye could make hair look like Google’s “e”, in gummy bear transluscence.

Tuesday Trivia

2011-01-18T16:22:00.000-08:00

Quotes-
1. My girlfriend always laughs during sex — no matter what she's reading. ~ Steve Jobs

2. Don't knock masturbation — it's sex with someone I love. ~ Woody Allen

3. I believe that sex is one of the most beautiful, natural, wholesome things that money can buy. ~ Tom Clancy

4. You know "that look" women get when they want sex? Me neither. ~ Steve Martin

5. There are a number of mechanical devices which increase sexual arousal, particularly in women. Chief among these is the Mercedes-Benz 380SL. ~ Lynn Lavner

6. Sex at age 90 is like trying to shoot pool with a rope. ~ George Burns

7. Having sex is like playing bridge. If you don't have a good partner, you'd better have a good hand. ~ Woody Allen

8. Women might be able to fake orgasms. But men can fake whole relationships. ~ Sharon Stone

9. Women need a reason to have sex. Men just need a place. ~ Billy Crystal

10. According to a new survey, women say they feel more comfortable undressing in front of men than they do undressing in front of other women. They say that women are too judgmental, where, of course, men are just grateful. ~ Robert De Niro

11. There's a new medical crisis. Doctors are reporting that many men are having allergic reactions to latex condoms. They say they cause severe swelling. So what's the problem? ~ Dustin Hoffman

12. There's very little advice in men's magazines, because men think, I know what I'm doing. Just show me somebody naked. ~ Jerry Seinfeld

13. Sex alleviates tension. Love causes it. ~ Woody Allen

14. I love sex. It's free and doesn't require special shoes. ~ Anonymous

15. Sex and golf are the two things you can enjoy even if you're not good at them. ~ Kevin Costner, Tin Cup

16. I think sex is better than logic, but I can't prove it. ~ Anonymous

17. Anyone who says that gratuitous sex is no substitute for gratuitous violence obviously hasn't had enough gratuitous sex. ~ Geoff Spear

18. For me, love is very deep, but sex only has to go a few inches. ~ Stacy Nelkin

19. The only difference between friends and lovers is about four minutes. ~ Scott Roeben

20. Nothing makes you forget about love like sex. ~ Staci Beasley

22. I read so many bad things about sex that I had to give up reading. ~ Anonymous

23. Just saying 'no' prevents teenage pregnancy the way 'Have a nice day' cures chronic depression. ~ Faye Wattleton

24. There is nothing safe about sex. There never will be. ~ Norman Mailer

25. If sex doesn't scare the cat, you're not doing it right. ~ Anonymous

26. I like my sex the way I play basketball, one on one with as little dribbling as possible. ~ Leslie Nielsen

27. I have no luck with women. I once went on a date and asked the woman if she'd brought any protection. She pulled a switchblade on me. ~ Scott Roeben

28. See, the problem is that God gives men a brain and a penis, and only enough blood to run one at a time. ~ Robin Williams

29. An intellectual is a person who has discovered something more interesting than sex. ~ Aldous Huxley

30. It's so long since I've had sex, I've forgotten who ties up whom. ~ Joan Rivers

31. If it wasn't for pick-pockets and frisking at airports I'd have no sex life at all. ~ Rodney Dangerfield

32. Sex is one of the most wholesome, beautiful and natural experiences that money can buy. ~ Steve Martin

33. My girlfiend said to me in bed last night' 'you're a pervert' I said, 'that's a big word for a girl of nine'. ~ Emo Philips

34. When I'm good I'm very, very good but when I'm bad I'm better. ~ Mae West

35. What's wrong with a little incest? It's both handy and cheap. ~ James Agate

36. I think people should be free to engage in any sexual practices they choose; they should draw the line at goats though. ~ Elton John.

37. My wife is a sex object. Every time I ask for sex, she objects. ~ Les Dawson

38. I'm such a good lover because I practice a lot on my own. ~ Woody Allen

39. A terrible thing happened to me last night again - Nothing. ~ Phyllis Diller

40. The Love Bird is 100% faithful to his mate, as long as they are locked together in the same cage. ~ Will Cuppy

41. Bisexuality doubles your chances of a date on a Saturday night. ~ Woody Allen

42. My best birth control now is to leave the lights on. ~ Joan Rivers

43. It's not true that I had nothing on. I had the radio on. ~ Marylyn Munroe.

45. Oh Lord give me chastity, but do not give it yet. ~ St Augustine

46. The majority of husbands remind me of an orangutan trying to play the violin. ~ Honore de Balzac

47. My love life is terrible. The last time I was inside a woman was when I visited the Statue of Liberty. ~ Woody Allen

48. Happiness is watching the TV at your girlfriend's house during a power failure. ~ Bob Hope

49. I'm glad I'm not bisexual. I couldn't stand being rejected by men as well as women. ~ Bernard Manning.

50. I blame my mother for my poor sex life. All she told me was, 'the man goes on top and the woman underneath'. For three years my husband and I slept on bunk beds. ~ Joan Rivers

New Years Resolutions… I’m Dead Otherwise

2010-12-27T09:22:00.000-08:00

Somewhere, I think between Christmas ham with scalloped potatoes and New Year’s Eve alcohol excess, we dream up promises of banal changes to our lives. This is doable, as if a thought will halt my six decades of eating palatable food in favor of safer cardboard can be accomplished on January 01 in the midst of a hangover. Cream the butter and dream on, MacDuff.

But somehow the reaper, Old Man, snuck into my particular comedy and juiced the bouncer. No sooner have I metaphorically licked the final Christmas card stamp for the happy greetings card and annual letter then Old Man plays a dirty trick. There is little more convincing support for a life change, than a life change.

Why can quitting a bad habit spawn a rash of co-morbidities?

Why are Stockings Sexy?

2010-12-11T19:54:00.000-08:00

Horse Latitudes

2010-12-10T20:50:00.001-08:00

"All our lives we sweat and save, building for a shallow grave."

Update: December 2010

2010-12-04T22:36:00.000-08:00

I've not posted for a while. It doesn't bother me and, no one has suffered; so many out there are frantic for daily posts. Relax. This is supposed to be fun and entertaining. I've spent my time cruising Blogdom, and poking my nose into other things. It's what I do when I put on my hiking shoes.

I've been busy adding windows to my peeping route. The lights and shades have dimmed in so many. One of my most favored rebald ladies has probably faded from her acerbic position as celebrant of lard. Another is fluttering good-byes from the stern railing--my first blogworld friend--a flower now changing; or, she's dumping her spent stems. The new and brightening windows are a strange lot, although promising to be exciting adventures.

A couple new windows to this blog have been favored haunts longer than R&R. One is a dynamo of energy. This lady is a mover and a shaker. Damn, you gotta experience her computer chair manners to understand. It took some time to place a mouth and face to her name--and a name to her pseudonym--but it was probably the most enjoyable "scavanger hunt" I've experienced. She is not as shy as the 'Belle', but to know me is to know that I am the world's worst gossip, so discover her yourself.

Another blogger posts erratically now. That's not to say her posts are erratic, however. This girl knows a man's deepest fears and fantasies. She's so good I hesitate to trust her penned gender. She is not Alexa--that poor, overpriced whore.

TRPD was hit with a sidewinder missle almost on the same day as her announced #1 position for Sex Blogger of 2010. She/he is still on my 'window' list but I doubt a second rebirth will happen. It's crazy, but the bitch has been on my radar since day one; that's several names ago. I am sure that my hook will snag her next incarnation. Her psyche has a deep void to fill that darning or cake decorating as self entertainment can never accomplish.

One thing that I do, and I don't see in other bloggers, is simple wipe-out of posts. If it bothers me, my sensitivities, I clear the sucker away. I like my present position and blog name. I don't feel like abandoning it, even if military stumble in. Yet.

Wish I had a typist....

House cleaning

2010-11-04T23:33:00.000-07:00

I cleaned house. Dusted, and threw-out the bric-a-brac of this blog. Saved what grabs my heart strings, and dump the remainder--it's not a diary, just some time; and, drafts.

Fall does this to me. The season cleans the summer build-up and casts away old and flawed to be recycled. Wind carries summer away and brings in another season. Fall reminds me so much of movement, so much of changes.

It's time to reassess priorities, and strap on the hiker shoes.

Rev. 11-20-2010

I Voted Today, but Elections are Postponed for More Advertising Income

2010-10-26T12:23:00.000-07:00

We get to vote in the comfort of our own homes, now. Everyone. I've done it for years, "absentee".

This year, completing the ballot was a delightful and exhausting experience! While I filled in the boxes she told me to with a pen in my mouth (full ligature), Mistress flipped the card to the back, and cleaned away messy drool and snot.

It would be nice to think the voting torture was all done, but realize I have to endure another week of phone-mail-internet-and-TV-"Hate-Hell". I spend a lot of my leisure looking at my email, now--imagine ... no spam, there.

>>> ....buzzzzzzz ... We interrupt this mundane, poor income program for the following news regarding :::: ....

However, there is a case before the Supreme Court to legalise Spam, so $$Dollar$$ Candidates (industries and business) can plumb that market vehicle, too.

Both major political parties agreed to pool legal expenses to challenge the "No Spam" barrier. Each party recognises a clearly beneficial outcome for the additional advertising market. The parties were successful in postponing the mid-term elections so the "No Spam" challenge could be heard and therefore cash-in on windfall profits when the Court overturns e-Mail Spam political advertising barriers.

The arguments to be presented to the Court are: One, Spam has the same rights as people, and business [business clarified as legally "people", too]. Second, Spam has been kicked around as bad, and not even healthful as dog food. And, since people won't be allowed to go camping in the near future (where Spam is consumed) because all public land is to be sold to draw-down the national debt ... it's critical to maintain vital American businesses; especially one that just last week changed its image and is moving from beer-and-spaghetti-puke yellow (Fall colors) to eco-Green, due to reduced sodium content that will kill people an astounding 1/3 less quickly.

The anticipated benefits to opening Spam to advertising dollars and improved consumption will be an additional 25 millon jobs ... WHICH everyone knows is far more important than any longterm, or short, hazards and damage to environment, people, or aligned Industry. The 100 {sic. 100,000, ed.} jobs presently held in blocking Spam will benefit from tax dollars to retrain as advertisers, and soup-line workers.

WE ALL WANT JOBS, DON"T We?
Back to regular programming.....

One benefit of early voting: I don't have to hang up the phone in the middle of a volunteer's sentence. I can interrupt and tell them: "I voted for the candidate with the fewest, least obnoxious advertisements." Does anyone remember when they called to remind you just to vote? Or, offer unconditional transportation to the polls?

Next election, I'm only going to vote for the unchallenged judges. I've ignored marking/punching their slots since the second time I ever voted. And, Fred Ziffel may come out of retirement to challenge everyone as a write-in.

Signed,
Rebellious Voter

PS. Mistress has promised to complete her ballot on my back using a tattoo needle.

Spinning Her Trap

2010-08-19T10:34:00.000-07:00

She needs no lure
Only coy invitation. Yet,
Spins her trap of
Enhanced appeal, perfection
As one focused beyond.

It must be more than brute hornet
She desires, appreciates.

Pause, linger, fly in; she plays
Invisible bindings to catch
His headlong drive;
Here, sticky candy, enjoy the trip.
The destination remains hers.

Weak, she overwhelms prey
With guile and trap.

Prostitution - The Truth

2009-11-19T13:20:00.000-08:00

National TV interview-
........
Sex worker: "Dr, do you have a loving sex life with your wife?"

Dr. P.: "Huh ... Of course! But, we are talking about prostitution --"

Sex worker: "I'm not a prostitute. Off camera, I am free. If anyone here is a prostitute, it is your wife. You buy sex from her with your income."

[You read it hear first.]

A while vs. awhile, and other bumbling stumbles

2009-11-13T21:25:00.000-08:00

When “awhile” is spelled as a single word, it is an adverb meaning “for a time” (“stay awhile”); but when “while” is the object of a prepositional phrase, like “Lend me your monkey wrench for a while” the “while” must be separated from the “a.” (But if the preposition “for” were lacking in this sentence, “awhile” could be used in this way: “Lend me your monkey wrench awhile.”)
http://www.wsu.edu/~brians/errors/awhile.html

I studied grammar for a while, but it didn't even stay in my head awhile. I understand no deeper than noun, verb, and "really, 'awhile' is an adverb?" It takes a lot of reading well edited text to actually recognize mistakes, elsewhere. Then the conundrum is "Something is wrong, why is it?" Unfortunately, I don't read much well written work anymore. [There's another one--anymore, or is it any more?] Finally, time, neither butcher, nor shifter, sees language change.

Is someplace a word? Somewhere? Someplace is informal for somewhere, but formally should be two words. Adverbs...

Two others are fond of being switched around:
Then and than.
Who and whom.

Then, there is: that and which, which, or is it that, follow after something...

I even see weigh and weight butchered. What do these two have to do with the subject I am on?
Regarding detours, here's one I've wanted to test Spellcheck on: He sighted the site for which he cited [author's] text. Now, mix 'em up.

Here's a killer. Lay, lie, laid, lying, lain. Who's lying? Who lied? And, what is it in sex, laying, or that chickens? Put those in a sentence. Just go to the Free Dictionary and type "laying".

Enough! My head is spinning.

Music Video (x+ rated)

2009-11-13T13:44:00.000-08:00

Wednesday's Words #3

2009-10-07T15:25:00.000-07:00

EMBARRASSMENT

I am a private person. Even with my partner, fantasies are drastically censured. The closest others see my genitals outside of intimacy is in the exam room or in day surgery. This is about those visits, to the doctor.

There is a shift from modesty to clinical indifference once the door is closed. Usually.

My first experience with prostate exams was with a doctor who preferred me on my side, on the table, in a one-knee-high position. To this day every exam I don’t recall the doctor’s desired position is predicated with “what position do you want me in?” This question has elicited a couple chuckles. The first doctor is the only one who wanted anything other than the military ‘spread those cheeks’. Rather, all, but one, who will be discussed later.

The biggest embarrassment in this procedure was cleaning up the lube, afterwards. Yuk! I learned to accept the proffered single tissue and grab the box in the same motion. I also, know that anal sex is no fantasy. Remotely, perhaps, a prostate exam during bedroom-bath games will drift into dreams.

With age grew the concern for cancer. Father and grandfather, suffered the consequences of prostate cancer. My grandfather was my first experience in witnessing the process of dying. At the age of eight, I was primed for a lifetime of death. I share the same concerns every female has with breast cancer. Supposedly, medical advances minimize physical issues with incontinence, but it was me who collected all the catheters, drain tubes, and penal clamps my father needed for fifteen years after his prostate surgery. The full annual regimen began at age 35 for me.

But cancer isn’t the subject, here; just a catalyzing agent.

The exam includes the two coughs (if there are two testicles) and proverbial inspection of the moles on the glans. I’m covered toe to scalp, even there with moles. Wait, the cough goes with a physical.

Okay, now the exceptions. Two female doctors; well, one was a third-year student, have dealt with my package. Both convince me that the opposite sex need not be involved with the physical manifestations of my various problems in the crotch area.

The first, a looker, lanced a boil right next to the perineum. She even made me go through a special surgical appointment for the next day. It felt like her intent was transsexual modification. She was draped in scrubs, mask and protective eyewear. I was lying, draped in sterile paper sheets; one precariously balanced on the personal jewels. I had the added embarrassment of a hospital gown. Why do female nurses want men in hospital gowns? Just drop the drawers at the necessary moment.

Well, scrotum, then pole would not cooperate and insisted on falling between my legs and concealing the presumed object of her intentions. The paper drifted into several places. Her nurse, also female, also sterile, made a couple modest attempts to realign the miscreants after Doctor realized she needed two hands to perform the operation.

Finally, when I thought I might start laughing instead of finding the scene irritating, I grabbed the sheet, adjusted it, and pulled the intruders away from the action. Fear of sharp implements near the jewels is a permanent given. I was also fearful of a pending fart adding further complications.

The lance job was only half-assed. Neither Doc nor attendant caught a drop of bloody puss, and I was sent home after several minutes of amateurish bandaging. Several months later the boil went away, after a few lancings on my own.

A few years later, under another provider, PA Rich took care of a mirror image boil. He snapped on some nitrile gloves and opened up an exacto knife while I dropped my drawers. “Hold your package away.” Cold alcohol, then a sting with immediate relief completed the procedure. I wore a Kotex pad home. No tape was involved.

The third-year student I could understand. Other than personal flings, she was learning, training to handle the clinical aspects of opposite gender genitals. The provider was a university group and I had a rapidly growing, itchy thing right at the cusp of number two pucker. I couldn’t see it, so I killed a work day, went into the big City, finally found my destination among a mile long train of medical buildings, and signed a consent form to have students look in on my personal problems, or shadow the doctor.

The doctor introduced his blond companion, all business-like. Other than the gorgeous Asian Dr. who dripped sex and had me desperately controlling male urges when diagnosing TMJ a month earlier, this girl had me really nervous. I was in a huge room wearing a glorified apron (gown), while she and Doc probed, discussed, and had me roll several times on the table. Finally, Doc announced “a wart!”, only in gibberish. They left the room, closing the door.

A minute later, Blondie returned wearing gloves and holding a tube of KY jelly. She furtively commenced an anal inspection with me fully exposed to the 15-foot wide hallway. I dismissed a thought to advance her education by pointing out my double sized prostate. I thought she might consider it male bravado.

Doctor interrupted the exam, sat down to discuss further visits; then saw the hallway with the steady stream of staff and patients. Blondie blushed and yanked the curtain. I pulled it to the wall until I couldn’t see the hall. She remembered her gloves while I wiped the paper tissue on the table. I was gushing while they talked, then we talked, then they left. I found the box of tissues, in a drawer before dressing.

Two weeks later I had a new primary doctor far away from any school program. A month later, the itchy wart disappeared.

I am destined to deal with female doctors as more sexist barriers are toppled, but I’ll vigorously defend my own sexism in special areas of the medical profession.

His/Her's Conflict Lists

2009-08-10T11:20:00.000-07:00

The man's guide to what a woman really wants when she says...
(Not written by me)(Stolen from some chick's blog)

"We need" = "I want"
"It's your decision " = "The correct decision should be obvious by now."
"Do what you want" = "You'll pay for this later."
"We need to talk" = "I need to complain"
"I'm not upset" = "Of course I'm upset, you moron!"
"You're so... manly" = "You need a shave and you sweat a lot."
"This kitchen is so inconvenient" = "I want a new house."
"I need wedding shoes" = "the other 40 pairs are the wrong shade of white."
"I heard a noise" = "I noticed you were almost asleep."
"Do you love me?" = "I'm going to ask for something expensive."
"How much do you love me?" = "I did something today you're really not going to like."
"I'll be ready in a minute " = "Kick off your shoes and find a good game on T.V."
"Is my butt fat?" = "Tell me I'm beautiful."
"You have to learn to communicate." = "Just agree with me."
"Are you listening to me!? " = "Too late, you're dead."
"Do you like this recipe?" = "It's easy to cook, so you'd better get used to it."
"I'm not yelling!" = "Yes I am yelling because I think this is important."

Why we secretly hate Men...
(Stolen from some chick’s blog. The same one)

1. Your ass is never a factor in a job interview
2. Your orgasms are real. Always
3. Your last name stays put.
4. The garage is all yours.
5. Wedding plans take care of themselves.
6. Chocolate is just another snack.
7. You can be president.
8. You can wear a white shirt to a water theme park.
9. Foreplay is optional.
10. You never feel compelled to stop a friend from getting laid.
11. Car mechanics tell you the truth.
12. You don't give a rat's ass if someone doesn't notice your new haircut.
13. The world is your urinal.
14. Hot wax never comes near your pubic area.
15. You never have to drive to another gas station because this one's just too icky.
16. Same work... more pay.
17. Wrinkles add character.
18. You don't have to leave the room to make emergency crotch adjustments.
19. Wedding Dress $2000; Tux rental $100.
20. If you retain water, it's in a canteen.
21. People never glance at your chest when you're talking to them.
22. The occasional well-rendered belch is practically expected.
23. New shoes don't cut, blister, or mangle your feet.
24. Porn movies are designed with you in mind.
25. Not liking a person does not preclude having great sex with them.
26. Your pals can be trusted never to trap you with: "So, notice anything different?"
And finally . . . . . .
27. One mood, all the time.

The Old Fart’s List ( A partial)
(NOT stolen. Written by me (pateinduced).)

1.“'We' secretly hate men" because those are self-imposed rules. (See above list.)
2. Her list of complaints is a mile long.
3. 90% of the list is her problems. Nothing I do will fix them.
4. Fix one thing and she’ll change her mind. Fix two and I’ll be changing the first before the second is done.
5. Do one chore, and she thinks you’re hers the rest of the weekend.
6. Why is “dinner out” the time to rattle off a year’s worth of projects.
7. It’s my office; not her storage room.
8. The guest room is MY bedroom. I can now claim it.
9. I’ve survived PMS (barely). Why is menopause my fault, and a permanent phase?
10. It’s a marriage of convenience, now. Her’s.
11. It’s her dog—she brought the damn thing home. Why do I clean up all the barf, shit, pee, feed it, and have to take it to the groomer Saturday morning?
12. She can scream insults at me across a store. Why am I upsetting customers if I grumble under my breath?
13. Quality time together is spending 4 hours in Kmart searching every shelf for an item she hid two days ago, and has forgotten what it was.
14. She’s had 35 years to learn that FDS feminine spray smells like that grad student who must have saved tampons, in place, month to month. (Proof removed. Too gross for even me.) I don't care if Grandma used the shit.
15. I go to the store every month and look through an entire aisle of feminine pads for ultra-super-absorbent-whooper-doopers, so she won’t get pregnant, for stocking ahead. (A superstition) Like she’s not going to need them for another 15 years instead of 15 and 9 months? Don’t worry. There won’t be 21 more kids.
16. Who ever called her thingy a prune was being too nice.
17. Why do I have to jump to her beck and call?
18. I’d rather swear at other drivers, than her. But it doesn’t matter.
19. She watches a home decorating show and is an expert.
20. She’s had four dining tables. Buy cardboard the next time; or recycle the nice one saved for the 28-year-old single son, hiding in the pool room, downstairs.
21. According to her, I never do anything for her. Okay, I won’t.
22. If she wants dollar store junk for decorating, I won’t spend a fortune for a house.
23. I want a blanket, not a bed spread that can be used for a sleeping bag in Alaska during the winter. (Remember, I have my own bedroom.)
24. Her haircut would pay for 4 of mine. But she uses two mirrors and dog scissors to fix hers when she gets home.
25. I will never ask, nor expect, a barber to trim my nose hairs. She thinks I should go back to have it done.
26. A secret no hair stylist knows: washing my neck will not get her a bigger tip. There is a rhythm of scissors and comb that is pure bliss for a man. Only barbers know how to do that.
27. Crown Victoria is the required car for over-69-year-old couples. They drive themselves. Or, appear to.
28. Why does an old fart drive so slowly? Malicious obedience to her waking up every 15 minutes and yelling “slow down!”
29. He drives slowly because she's the one who multi-tasks. At least he maintains a steady speed.
30. Every wedding anniversary is an achievement. Rather than jewelry she’ll lose, she should reward him for surviving with shop tools.
31. …. And, at number 31, a nice break from further depression … If no one will claim that fart, it has to belong to one of the ladies and therefore, is obnoxious.

HNT #1 - Thong Dreams

2009-08-06T17:23:00.000-07:00

...well, maybe, in mid-winter. Sexy? A good pair of thongs, from Nordstrom's and well into their 3rd season. Peripatetic symbol.

Rev. 2009-11-15

Another Viewpoint

2009-06-29T12:40:00.000-07:00

Hello

2009-04-23T12:52:00.000-07:00

The other day I woke up and realized I have a whole life that is my own. More loves and lovers than any one person could imagine satisfying, more games and fantasies than one person should ever admit to or play and act out, more curiosity than a dead cat. All of it is sharing space with a lifelong album of experiences, some prurient some not, maybe, 70/30, and 22/7.

Mostly an effort in discipline, the fact is there may be no more than this post. The blog may fade from memory for want of inspiration. Betwixxed, it will eject the things that catch my morbid fancy; or, that I can catch and pin-down into legible type. Maybe it will prove useful to me.
pi