I’m guilty of sneaking a brief ‘slow-roast’ hug with a certain woman I just met recently.  The ‘catch’ here is that she has a boyfriend.  She’s the friendly sort that likes to make physical contact and I frankly couldn’t help myself.  Oh, and I played with her hair while talking with her, but only until I realized she was enjoying it and so was I.  I may or may not have let is slip that I was attracted to her, but she probably knew it with how I looked at her.  Maybe I wanted her to see what I was thinking without me saying it.  At some point, during our slow roast, we concluded that this could lead to something more physical and we should stop…right after a few more seconds.

I’ve had ‘instant attraction’ connections with women before and this began the same way: lots of fun banter, some alcohol, comfy environment with friends…I was doomed from the start because she looks a lot like Lili Taylor…a hotter, Lili Taylor. 

I feel like I could go on and on about how we eyefucked for much of our conversation and that we stuck together because of our age difference with the others in our presence.  Like I said, doomed from the start. 

Part of the inconvenience of being me is having to deal with ‘hyper-focus’.  It’s not just with women I have this problem, it’s just that women happen to be the hardest to get over.  Take now for example, I have been thinking about her since we met 2 days ago.  I took a break when I went to sleep, but sure enough, when I woke up, there she was again.  I acknowledge that this is unhealthy because it sure as hell feels this way.  It’s akin to being a caged animal.  All this stupid obsession just rattles around in my brain (and everything I do) like an itch that will never be reached.  

One of our conversations discussed Primal urges and to what degree people rely on them.  She let it out that she was a doctor and let me know that she was ‘filterless’.  I asked her to expand on this and I believe she means, in plain English, that she says what’s on her mind.  That was okay for me, it was just nice to meet someone I don’t have to really watch what I have to say.  Quite refreshing, much like what I go through on Twitter.

Things got a little fuzzy when we all decided to go hit a neighborhood pub, but I do remember linking arms with her as we walked to said pub.  Her boyfriend seemed okay with this and walked a bit ahead of us.  On the way, we chatted.  Me?  I was lost in her eyes trying to walk straight enough to justify leading although, in retrospect, we were leaning into eachother.

We spent some of this time (at the pub) just chatting, smiling, and flirting.  While we were outside sharing a cig, we talked about children.  She let me in on the fact that she wanted to have kids, but her BF could not get the job done.  It struck me as unusual that she was envious of me already having my children and looking forward to my adulthood growing up with them.  I was feeling a lot like that knowing she spent a lot of her time traveling and well…being a doctor usually means lots of education. 

And then we ended up in a long body-melting hug.  The kind that makes you want to hold onto them, smell their hair, and sigh in blissful satisfaction.  It might’ve been 20 seconds, but I don’t think I ever let go in my brain.  My semi-erection didn’t seem to bother her either, because I’m very sure he was aware that there was a vagina quite close (in spite of the obstacles in obtaining it).

At some point before we parted ways, she told me I was ‘Hot’ and wondered why I didn’t have a girlfriend.  I had no feasible explanation other than my unusual living situation.  They are all lame excuses and she saw through it too.  Either way, it felt good to have her validate me in that was as well.  Her body language did enough to let me know that she was interested to which she also agreed that it would not be wise to leave us alone for very long.

I didn’t really do anything wrong, but my brain has already fabricated whole fantasies of our infidelity…so maybe this is why I feel guilt.  A wise friend once said, ‘It could be worse’ and yes, friend…it could’ve been much worse and I can already think of how.

If I ever do have the chance of meeting her when she’s single, I doubt either of us will get much sleep.  Until this time, I will keep my distance and let things happen as they may.

Thanks for stopping in!

One would think that in this modern time, segregation is something we can look upon and say, ‘Fuck, I’m so glad we don’t have to deal with that shit now.’  Unfortunately, I think we give ourselves a little too much credit because segregation is still very much apart of our culture.

If you didn’t already know, I am of Anglo-American decent, of which I only have guesses where they originate.  You might notice my blonde facial hair and blue eyes, so yeah, White and very American.  I’ll admit that I just don’t know any better when it comes to how other races were and are treated in comparison.  With that being said, something caught my attention recently that made me go ‘WTF, people’?

My daughter’s 5th Grade ‘Promotion’ ceremony was a few years ago, but I can still remember it quite clearly…specifically because I was that parent who caused a scene. I’m not normally this vocal, but when I heard that they were handing out African American and Hispanic academic achievement awards, I couldn’t help blurting out a laughing ‘Whaaaat?’.

You read that correctly; this particular San Leandro Elementary School hands out Hispanic and African American academic achievement awards. But I digress.

Every one of those people that heard me turned to stare at the ‘racist fuck’ who just scoffed at the idea of having racially specific academic achievement awards. Yup, that was totally me and all I could do is just sit there with my mouth hanging open, stare back at the angry families, and contemplate an escape plan.

Was I the only one that thought this was ridiculous? Seriously, I thought they were all going to string me up by my pubes and burn me at the fucking stake. Thankfully, whomever was speaking at the podium continued to carry on in spite of the interruption.

Looking back, it still baffles me why nobody else thought this was unusual. Or maybe they did and it didn’t settle in until later. Either way, I guess this is someone’s idea of making everyone feel included. Good intentions, poor execution.

Me: (Playing Mass Effect) Damn! Ashley is such a bitch!

Son: Yeah, but she’s your bitch, Dad.

Me: Damn right.

By the end of each day at work, I sincerely look forward to the following (in no particular order of preference):

• Hugging Daughter
• Getting stoned
• Fragging some CG ass
• Finding out how my kids’ days were
• Petting my favorite kitty (One-eyed Siamese aka “Mogwai”)
• Coercing my girlfriend to give it up (watch porn on my iPhone).
• My Post-coital slumber
• Saying something smarmy about my Roommmates’ choice in TV Entertainment (which I’m starting to think is an oxymoron).

Another recycled LJ post where I ramble about part of what makes me who I am today.  In this case, it’s about life outside of Earth and our general understanding.

I remember quite clearly walking into the the building feeling like something very significant just happened. My heart was still racing with anticipation as I made my way back to my workstation. The first person I told, aside from the women who were with me to witness the occurrance, was a Man (who happened to be a Christian) I worked with for a short period of time. I blurted it out like I didn’t believe it as I was saying it.

“I just saw something in the sky,” I paused to take in another deep breath while my mind raced, replaying the event repeatedly until I had formulated a working sentence, “It was square and had diamond-shapes etched into it. It glowed neon blue and seemed to rotate and just as quickly as it appeared, it streaked off into the western horizon.” Whether or not this guy believed me really doesn’t matter, he still humored me and listened to me retell it atleast twice before he spoke. I don’t even remember what he said, but he never once said anything to indicate that he didn’t believe me. The rest of my day passed by relatively quickly and when it came time to drive home, I sped home to tell my wife about it.

Some coworkers and I were outside having a smoke break. Suddenly, the woman facing the parking lot looked up, eyes wide with shock, then pointed, “Look!” She squeeked. The two of us turned on our heels and saw what she pointed out. In the sky, I saw a Blue Neon Rectangular shaped object decending to what appeared to be toward us. The Rectangle rotated about 45 degrees before it sped off into the distance in a streak of light. The whole event took place within about 5 seconds (I originally said 5 minutes, but there’s no way it was even longer than 10 seconds) start to finish, but it seemed like a lot longer (probably from the anxiety of realizing what I saw). The three of us all looked to eachother wide-eyed and blinking at the utter perplexing thing we had all seen.

We didn’t speak very much about on the day that it happened, but I did manage to corner one of them and get her to retell her version of the story. Other than a variation on how many diamond shapes there were etched in the object, she was right on the money with what I saw. I needed to hear that she saw it as well because I started to doubt that I had seen anything real at all (after a few months passed by).

The whole experience left me with a feeling of awe with the Universe. I suppose I’ve always believed that we are not alone in the Universe, but never had any real proof to make the difference. This was really all I needed to see to make me understand just how insignificant I was in comparison to the Universe. Consequently, this gave me the nudge I had needed to get past my religious hangups and drop them entirely. Since that time, I’ve become a much happier person knowing my place in the Universe: A piece of Free-thinking cosmic dust.

I still look back at that time as being when I finally woke up and began to appreciate the things around me for their finite qualities. I’m painfully aware of my mortality, but satisfied that I’ve procreated enough to make sure part of me lives on through my children. Kinda morbid way to look at things, but once I realized how unique it is for us (as Humans) to realize their own existence, I’m honored to be apart of it. I don’t really excell at anything in the ‘virtuoso’ skill level, but I happen to think I make a great Human, and I can only hope others know this before we end up exterminating ourselves.

an App that sends an electric shock to the person who retweets someone I intentionally unfollowed. 

Look…I unfollowed them for a fucking reason, do I still need to be reminded why over and over again?  Maybe I should look into that whole ‘block’ feature, but that would involve reading instructions.

Ew.

Update - About 15 minutes later…
Okay, I’ve tried the block feature, but it’s still a no-go.  I can still see this person in my timeline. 

So this brings up something that I clearly need to get off my chest; ‘What is it about this person that set me off?’  FFS, this is really going to give some of you ammunition.  Well, nobody’s immune to everything, or so I tell myself.  Here goes:

You’re what most of the straight guys refer to as ‘good looking’ and you’re not shy about telling us you know it.  I get that.  Throughout High School, you were the Ugly Duckling and now you realize something that all the boys want; your pussy and possibly other orifices that might somehow temporarily satiate our intense desire to procreate.  Grats, someone give this girl a meatstick for figuring it out at the age of 21!

Hearing you being unapologetic about it, I think, is what pisses me off about your attitude.  It wasn’t anything specific you said, but it was the collaboration of your (what’s the opposite of humility…?) acknowledgment that you hold the Power of the Pussy over Mankind.  You wield this power like it’s a toy for your own amusement.  I’m sure that if I had powers like this, it would most certainly go to both of my heads.

And this brings up another point; what would I do with the counter-power; the Power Over the Pussy?  Totally another long-winded rant about how much I’m not getting any blow-my-mind sex reserved for another time I hit ‘publish’.

But I digress…

In a nutshell, I resent your power over the Penis.  I can’t stop you from abusing it, but I can cover my eyes whenever someone decides to re-post something from your gullet. 

/Fixed

I was going through an old blog of mine and wanted to share something I wrote about the infamous ‘3C’ girl.  Some of you may know her as ‘Crazy Cutting Chick’ because I’ve mentioned her on Twitter.  She’s still around, but only because I can’t seem to silence the idiocy known as my penis.  Well, without further ado, here’s some shit I puked out half a decade ago:

If This Doesn’t Make Me Dateless…
then this next admission will probably make it so.

In the eve of my divorce, I was involved in a romance with a girl more than a decade younger than me. It developed frighteningly fast from a somewhat awkward meeting with her. Her passion is what attracted me to her in the first place, she also seemed to be very well read, and to make matters worse, she informed me she was in her mid 20s. Combined with my situation at home, I was helplessly attracted to her.

Like any good drug, it makes you want to do it more until there’s nothing left but a memory of how much it cost you in exchange. This girl was that drug and I OD’d on her more times than I care to admit. I hid her from my wife because I felt safe with the idea that I could have my cake and eat it too. She was on the other side of the country after all. It was fantastic while it lasted too, but alas, all good things must come to an end at some point.

We got serious so quickly, that we spent a lot of time discussing just how intense our feelings were at the time. She introduced me to so many different concepts I never thought would perk my interest, it made her achieve ‘goddess’ status in my eyes before I knew what hit me. To this day, I can remember how aroused she made me feel. I felt so desired when I spoke with her and it seemed mutual until we started getting more serious. Hard to believe that the situation deteriorated as quickly as it developed, but it did. I wont say it was more of either person’s fault that we’re no longer talking…we both just wanted the same thing, but were too far apart to give it a try.

To this day, I still think about how things would’ve been different had I made the choice to stay with her. This mysterium still puts her at the top of my list of most desireable women I’ve met to this day. Admittedly, it’s wrong of me to still think about her, but I know the reasoning behind it. Something you’ve never had has a tendency to make it’s way into your imagination easier because it’s all you have of the other person. It’s easy to become attached to people in this way because it’s your imagination…everything’s going to be perfect~just how it is when you imagine anything.

Recently, I’ve encountered another woman with all the same qualities; Smart, sexy, kinky, and very easy to talk with. I see the situation going the same direction as with the first woman I fell in love with (on the net), and no, this isn’t the first time i’ve fallen mad for someone like this. To summarize, I think I made the right move by telling her the truth and that continuing at our rate would be emotionally unsafe for both of us. I let her down, I know, but having a long distance relationship just doesn’t work…not when i’ve never met her in person.

This is a pattern I need to snuff out because, although it’s great to feel desired by women, not being able to be with them (due to geographical constraints) is perpetually worse and almost not worth meeting new people on the internet. I know I’ve said this in the past, and i’ll say it again…meeting them in person can never ever be substituted by the internet. No amount of imagination can satiate the needs of the flesh.

I’m content to continue doing things solo for now after having done it for 2 years now. How odd that it would take me so many months of failures to realize that my imagination is only, in fact, my imagination.