My Latest Anonymous Secret Love Affair

Originally posted to Adult BackWash: Saturday November 08, 2003  

Don’t tell anyone but… I’m having a secret love affair with a guy who doesn’t know anything about it. It’s much more fun this way. Trust me. No hangups, on the phone or otherwise. No mountains of luggage, baggage and social issues. It’s so nice to come home to secret love affair guy too. Sometimes he picks me up at work and comes walking around with me as I work. We chat. It’s always light hearted fun chat. Secret love affair guy is never difficult or moody. I don’t allow it.

Too bad you can’t just make some kind of robot man to behave exactly as you want. Life would be so much friendlier and simple. Not to mention all the romance and great sex.

I guess that is my personal best as far as fetishes go. The robot man, may rust in case of rain. Tends to collect dust and require frequent doses of oil and spare parts. Lifetime guarantee. You can even inherit robot man from your Grandmother. Now there’s a picture!! Ick!

If robot man could feel would he feel like a used condom? I wonder about these things.

I wonder about many things so it’s no surprise that I can add a hundred more things to wonder about to my list of things to wonder about at the drop of a hat. How’s that for a complex sort of run on sentence? I’m not even going to fix it. I know what I mean, the rest of you can follow the bouncing ball and I wish you the best of good luck.

Anyway, back to the secret lover. He is based on a real man. I don’t indulge completely in some misty fantasy land. It would be hard to drive that way for one thing. So far I have no tickets or warnings, not bad for a flake, eh? Flake of what you may wonder. I’ve wondered that too, on and off, as wondering flakes tend to do.

So, ok, this column is supposed to be about sex you’re probably thinking by now. So here’s your dose of sex.

Was it good for you? What, can’t you read between the lines? Was the invisible ink too light for you?

I guess you missed it then. The secret love affair guy who doesn’t know he’s the secret love affair guy said he loved it. Made his hair sizzle. Not to mention other bits that tend to stick out.

Anyway, don’t tell him who he is. That would spoil everything. Just smile and keep them all guessing. Won’t that bug him when he reads this.

Man for Sale

Man for Sale
Originally posted to Adult BackWash: Thursday November 14, 2002

How much does a man sell for you may be asking. Well, it’s shockingly little. Or not so shocking, depending on your fondness for men at the moment. Mine tends to wobble around like a bowlful of jello.

What would you pay for a man? It’s an interesting question. Of course, most people would say it depends on the man. Many women I know would think first of his end, the butt end. Not me! No, I don’t care what he has behind him. I don’t intend to spend a lot of time back there. It’s what’s in front that counts for me.

Let’s not even pretend to consider what’s inside. We all know that’s just a lot of blood, guts and stuff we routinely clean off underwear, furniture and carpets upon occasion. Now, with that mental image let’s consider what really is attractive in a man.

If I look at a man (anyone really) I look right in the eyes. So that’s where my interest starts. The face. What kind of smile does he have, do I like the way his face wrinkles? I prefer a craggy sort of face, it gets better wrinkles and grooves and general cragginess. Thus the whole crag word. Not sure what a crag is? Think mountains, rocks, cliffs and you’ll be on the right track.

From the face… I look at hands and I listen to his voice. I can’t decide which matters more. Without the voice the rest doesn’t matter all that much. But, if he has the wrong kind of hands I won’t really care about being touched by him. Which would be a waste really as I love being touched. I also love hearing a really good male voice. I could be in a dark room and just listen to him talk. A really good voice is worth at least one good orgasm.

What’s left? I kind of wonder at this point too. If you want to get technical there is the whole penis thing. But, mother’s of invention that we are, women have found a way around that. We have all kinds of rubber, plastic and jelly-like penis type things. You can go to WalMart and pick out a penis and get the batteries on the side. They have those batteries right at the check outs! Right in the open! It’s like they want us to buy extra duty batteries for those nifty massager things. Not that I have one of course, just the batteries. Not even the right sized batteries really.

Which brings me to a small pet peeve. Why do they sell batteries in packages of two? We can only use one penis at a time!

Well, maybe that nameless G of the Trinity… but those are just rumours. Right? I’m far too shy and wallflowerish to ask.

I Hope You Dance

A favorite Quote from Soulfully Blonde:
Those who danced were thought to be quite insane by those who could not hear the music.

That made me think of the song by Lee Ann Womack – I Hope You Dance

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger,
May you never take one single breath for granted,
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed,
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance….I hope you dance……….

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance,
Never settle for the path of least resistance,
Livin’ like me, takin’ chances, but they’re worth takin’,
Lovin’ might be a mistake, but it’s worth makin’,
Don’t let some Hell bent heart leave you bitter,
If you come close to sellin’ out reconsider,
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance….I hope you dance.
I hope you dance….I hope you dance.
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along,
Tell me who wants to look back on their years
and wonder where those years have gone.)

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

Dance….I hope you dance.
I hope you dance….I hope you dance.
I hope you dance….I hope you dance..
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along,
Tell me who wants to look back on their years
and wonder where those years have gone.)

Remembering that song makes me tear up.

Scrolling Saturday: April 2005.

For Scrolling Saturday I have unearthed this old post:

Maps for Road Tripping April 29, 2005

I love road trips, the campier, the crazier and the longer – the better. To overly plan a road trip is to spoil it. You may have an ultimate destination but it’s the journey that really counts. Take time to get lost. Wander. Make frequent stops for no good reason. Coffee, knickknacks, tourist traps, farmers markets, flea markets, fresh honey, odd road signs, adventure and other things so essential to life yet so often overlooked for lack of ‘time’.

You may wonder why a road tripper ever needs a map. Let alone a collection of them. I do love them, they make the trip that much more fun. Mainly, you absolutely must have the backroad maps to wherever you may be wandering. Should you get hopelessly lost (lucky you!), as you’re laughing, sipping roadside coffee and wondering how you ended up so far to the left, a good road map will be your guide to possible alternative routes. Never take the map seriously though. There are always glitches. You’ll find them as you drive along and realize the map never had this road or that turn or that dead end approaching right in front of your car bumper. That is the odd thing about maps, they are imperfect but trying so hard to be correct. Maps are friendly and confused, so very likeable.

I think of maps as those drawings from the early explorers. Those men who trekked out to places completely unknown and tried to draw a guide to what they were seeing. Not just flora and fauna but rivers, lakes, mountains, valleys and everything else they stumbled upon. Ancient explorers were the earliest road trippers. Before cars, there were ships. Before ships there were horses. Before horses there were just people walking around wishing they knew how long it was to the next grocery store for snackage. No, just kidding, you knew there were no grocery stores back then, right?

The first maps were wonky. They didn’t have perspective and distances were not measured equally. Now we have science which has given us exacting measurements and the tools to create beautifully detailed maps. Cartography and related sciences are things modern road tripping types can be grateful for. Think of them next time you’re looking for the right house on the right street in the right town.

Now, go, take your itchy feet, let the wanderlust possess you. Take along a map, it’s like a good friend who will never laugh at your navigational skills.
Road Map Collectors Association
International Map Collector’s Society
History of Cartography

Skinny Girls Will Haunt You

I was reviewing some pro-ana sites this morning. It’s not easy looking at and reading sites where young women talk about starving themselves to fit into some skeletal ideal woman they think they need to be in order to be happy.

Here are some quotes from another of the sites. I edited out others, these were of interest to me.

“Obstacles are those frightful things you see when you take youre eyes off your goal.” ~ Henry Ford

“It is never too late to be who you might have been.” ~ George Eliot

“Out of the strain of the doing, into the peace of the done.” ~ Julia Woodruff

“Nobody trips over mountains. It is the small pebble that causes you to stumble. Pass all the pebbles in your path and you will find you have crossed the mountain.” ~ Unknown

“Success isn’t a result of spontaneous sombustion. You must set yourself on fire.” ~ Arnold H Glasow

“Judge your success by what you had to give up in order to get it.” ~ Unknown

“One half of knowing what you want is knowing what you give up before you get it.” ~ Sidney Howard

Love to Chat?

I’m surprised to still be getting replies to my personal/ dating blurb on Craigslist. That was at least two weeks ago.

Anyway, tonight I got one which said “love to chat” followed by an email address.

Well, if you love to chat why would you only send an email address? If you love to chat wouldn’t you have mountains of things to say? Sure the first email is the hardest but, spare me, anyone can manage to say SOMETHING about themselves.

Love to chat… but I expect you to do all the talking/ typing.

Love to chat… but hate to communicate.

Love to chat… but savour every one of my words and hoard them to myself.

Love to chat… but only using IM software.

Love to chat… but only on nights with a full moon.

Love to chat… but prefer using invisible ink.

Love to chat… but only use a minimum of four words at any one time, minimalist.

Love to chat… but I’m a very private person.

Love to chat… but I always expect you to start, always.

Love to chat… but only if you agree to cyber sex first.

Love to chat… but you need to tell me how much you charge first.

Love to chat… but I had sudden amnesia.

Love to chat… but I just remembered girls have cooties.

Love to chat… but only during the commercials.

Love to chat… but need to take my medication and tell all the voices to stop bugging me.