Random Moments – Exercising Nude To The New Kids On The Block

blackoutRyan and I went out to eat last night at our local wings bar. As we made our way home, we saw a huge, gray mass in the sky hovering near our house. Flashes of lightning lit up the sky as we pulled up into the driveway. The wind picked up when we got into the house and I feared one of the pine trees in the backyard would surely topple over. Thunder shook the house; I thought Ryan was hitting the wall from behind the closet door. It felt was that close. As I put some french fries in the oven for everyone to eat with the hamburgers I made the night before, the lights flickered for a split second. But I wasn’t worried because this is very normal and very expected during a storm.

A few minutes later, however, the entire house powered down and I stood for a moment waiting for everything to turn back on. I made my way to the cupboard above the stove and took out a box of matches and several tea lights. I placed several around the kitchen and some in the master bedroom where we were all congregated. We were all on our phones, but for some reason my connection was spotty. I decided to watch a movie on my phone, confident that I could get at least halfway through on the 52% battery life I currently had.

“You should turn off your phone just in case the power doesn’t turn back on.  You’ll need it as an alarm tomorrow morning,” Ryan said.

Reluctantly, I turned off my phone and plugged in my charger anyway. Just in case. “Arrgh! What did people do back in the 1960s and whatnot?!” I look around at everyone’s faces lit up by the their 4G glow mocking me as I sat in my own corner of darkness. I stood up and felt around for my sports bra. I made my way to the garage in just panties and a sports bra, stumbling over scooters, shoes, and a 12-pack of bottled water. I took three tea lights and set one next to me as I climbed onto my elliptical machine. I do 30 minutes in the evenings, but tonight was going to be a challenge. I had no way to monitor my speed and for how long I’ve been exercising. Ryan came in and shone the flashlight over the monitor so I could fix my settings. “I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.”

tumblr_nlh0dz9IGP1sq616go1_250So I began moving my arms and legs. My mind started to feed on itself. “Is that a light out there? Or is that lightning? Is someone out there with a flashlight? Are they going to break in and kill us like in ‘The Strangers’ with Liv Tyler? How fast can I get in the house, grab my phone so I can call 911, gather my kids into Ryan’s closet while he gets the gun loaded? It’s the light again! That’s not lightning! What if my legs are too wobbly to make it out of the garage? What if I trip over the bottle water? There’s the light again! Can they hear my elliptical machine from out there? Should I tell Ryan? I don’t want to die without pants on! There goes the light ag–WHO THE FUCK IS OUT THERE?!?!”

Continue Reading Random Moments – Exercising Nude To The New Kids On The Block

Random Moments – The Orgasm Drive-By

3904335177_e1010679e2_zAfter work yesterday, Ryan and I went to the mall to look for a birthday present for his sister. “I think she needs a new wallet,” I told him. So we entered through Sears because it was the quickest way to get to Old Navy.

As we were walking through the ladies section, stopping and glancing at different outfits, Ryan says,”I’m so hungry.”  His face looked weary because he skipped lunch that day.

“Me too,” I replied.

He shuffled his feet, exaggerating his hunger even more. “I want Chinese food,” he suddenly said as we passed by the ladies shoes.”

“Yea! That sounds good!” I said. We hadn’t eaten Chinese food in a few weeks and it sounded like a good idea.

“Mmm…I’d really like Mongolian Chicken…onions steaming hot and soft, dripping with sauce…and Sesame Chicken…Oh, god!! Thinking about it makes me want to orgasm!” As he said the word “orgasm” we passed by a lady hidden behind the lingerie panties and lingerie section. She gave Ryan a shocked look like, “I knew I shouldn’t have worn my yoga pants today.”

I looked at Ryan, laughed and said, “She gave you that, quit looking at my nipples glare!”

“Oh yea, she’ll have a story for her husband tonight.”  Ryan continued, “Oh Em Geeeee George, this guy was peering at my from behind the panty rack just watching me hold these brown silk bras up to my bosoms.  I can tell he was like a savage animal ready to pounce on me before he yelled out to everyone that he was orgasming to me. I feel so violated, sugar muffins!”  Orgasm Drive-By Orgasm Drive-By Orgasm Drive-By

Song Lyrics Meaning – “In Bloom” by Nirvana

NirvanaNevermindalbumcoverThis song popped up in my playlist after I transferred a bunch of songs from my old phone. I’m sure a lot of people who remember Nirvana and Kurt Cobain will remember him as a musical genius. I don’t know about all that. I think Nirvana was about being at the right place at the right time. But that’s neither here nor there. Today I’m going to dissect the song lyrics to “In Bloom,” not line by line, but rather by each concept. Back in the 90s I wasn’t into them enough to sit down and think about the lyrics. But as I listened closer, I realized this is a song about an adolescent boy’s adventure in masturbation. (Lyrics in bold)

The song opens up with the words “Sell the kids for food.” It’s an awful thing when a parent has to sell a child during times of unbearable famine. It was and apparently still is a real thing. But here, figuratively speaking, the food represents his appetite for sex and the kids are his sperm. So what is always the end result of a male masturbating? Ejaculating. He is sacrificing his future children to suppress his appetite

“Weather changes moods” – Have you heard of Seasonal Affective Disorder? It’s experienced in mainly the fall in winter months and is described “feelings of sadness and depression that occur in the winter months when the temperatures drop and the days grow short”. From experience, I can verify that when Ryan doesn’t orgasm for two days minimum, he starts to get really cranky, and I mean super cranky. He starts to blame me for the empty gas tank in the vehicle that only he drives, for using 5 towels after I shower, and for eating the other half of his Cinnabon…eight years ago. The point is, he starts to become irrational and upset at the smallest things if he has not had a chance to release his demons. In the song, the masturbator has gone at least 5 days in the same “mood,” which explains his crankiness, i.e. weather-induced mood change. And after 5 days of being in “winter,” he’s ready for the weather to change.

When the weather changes, “Spring is here again,” it’s because he has finally orgasmed. He now feels like himself again. He’s no longer a Gloomy Gus. He’s not down in the dumps, or frustrated, because he has just masturbated and can face the world fresh without having to worry about trying to get laid, all thanks to his “Reproductive glands.”

“He’s the one who likes all our pretty songs” – The pretty songs is all the flirting, use of pick-up lines, and sweet talking he does to try to sleep with a girl. “Hey, girl, you know you want some of this,” he says as he points crudely to his crotch, forcing her to cringe as he directs her down his imaginary happy trail. He’s so oblivious to what it takes to actually meet a female, so he says whatever he hears on “Jersey Shore,” and calls every girl that rejects him a grenade. He’s so immature. “And he likes to sing along” because he flirts non-stop with every girl who will listen. He doesn’t know how experienced guys flirt (a.k.a. the lyrics) and even sounds like he’s never heard the song before. Nevertheless, he will talk his game until one day he gets the song right and the game he talks will actually work. Regardless, “[and] he likes to shoot his gun, but he knows not what it means” I’m torn between what a gun is here. It can either mean his penis shooting out semen or his mouth shooting out every cheesy pick-up line he’s every heard, not caring for anything except for the hope that someone will fall for it.

But, like the seasons, the relief and pleasure from a good orgasm is cyclical. Ongoing. It won’t stay warm forever and hunger must be fulfilled because “We can have some more.” Why? Because semen is continually being replenished. His gonads are making sperm non-stop and because of this he will always need to get it out. It’s in his nature to masturbate. “Nature is a whore” because a guy is constantly thinking about sex/masturbation, Mother Nature makes him pimp out his semen to feed his sexual appetite. When Ryan strokes his dick, there’s not necessarily “Bruises on the fruit,” but definitely chafing, minuscule tearing, and redness. Sometimes the coconut oil falls of the edge of the table and we just don’t see it. And even with lubrication, the constant rubbing on the penis can take its toll on a guy. It happens. But this doesn’t deter him from stroking his bald headed baby Jesus.

I can only imagine how hard it is to be a horny guy in his “Tender age in bloom” because he hasn’t bloomed yet (manhood). He spends a lot of his free time masturbating. A lot. I shudder as I recall the times I’ve walked in on my brother, who, for the life of him, hadn’t learned to do it when no one was home let alone lock the door. I didn’t anything I wasn’t supposed to – thank God. All I remember was the walking on him for the THIRD time, shutting the door immediately, walking back to my room, and sitting on my bed, completely baffled by what I was forced to encounter. Seconds later he walks in, I’m staring off in disbelief.

He fumbled his words. “Look…I…” he started to say.
I shake my head. “I mean…WHY? Why can’t you just lock the door?”
“You could have knocked!” he tried to reason.
“What the hell! You were just putting groceries away with me 8 seconds ago! That’s barely enough time for a cowboy to get bucked off a bull!”
He laughed. “I’m sorry!” He reached his hand out apologetically.
“Stop! Go wash your hands!”

That little story was, unfortunately, based on actual events in my life.

*Guitar solo* – The guitar solo is the young man in his room, strumming alone.

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Random Moments: Steak And BJ Day

steakandbjSo I woke up on March 14 feeling amazing.  I knew from twitter hashtags and other social media outlets that today was Steak and BJ Day.  Ah yes, the day where I get to lay back and do nothing but let my penis poke towards the ceiling so Venice could admire it.   I look over to Venice laying next to me and grab her wrist so I can guide her hand to my hard penis.  I was smiling at her as she grabbed my manhood and kind of winked a little bit.  She made a happy expression as she touched me but quickly changed her look and asked why I was smiling so much.  I laughed a bit and said, “Well, today is Steak and BJ Day and I’m already doing my part.”

She looked back at me and responded, “What’s that supposed to mean to me?”  She continued to stroke my dick as she waited for my answer.

I took the smile off my face and explained, “It’s steak and bj day.  Today is my valentine.”  I smiled again and reached over to grab her head and guide her down into my lap.

She moved my hand and started negotiating with me, “I’ll tell you what, I’ll stop sucking your dick every day like I normally do, and instead give you a BJ on this so called holiday.   How does that sound?  Otherwise, I want you to take this hard dick in my hand and stick it inside my pussy and fuck me good.”

I guess that kind of put things in perspective.   Instead of getting a BJ, I got up and used my dick the way she wanted it used, and later that night I ate her homemade Chili.

I married a rebel. TAGS: steak and bj day, steak and blow job day

Random Moments – This Is How the Zombie Apocalypse Starts

zombieI said goodbye to Ryan as I was leaving out the door, one foot not quite fully in my high heel. I turned my ankle to maneuver it in and twisted the door knob opening the door connecting the kitchen hallway to the garage. “Love you,” I called out one last time; Ryan responded with the same words. I looked up from the ground and my eyes met those of the neighborhood dog that lived about eight houses up the street. I don’t know its name, but I know this dog. Many times I’ve had to slow my car to an idle as it pranced across the street seemingly oblivious to vehicles zooming by it. At the moment, however, it was standing in the center of our garage between Ryan’s weight bench and an abandoned sugar bear cage.

I grasped the knob cautiously in one hand, unsure of whether or not I should open it further. Its tongue lolled out at the left side, its dark auburn hair matted from the heavy early a.m. mist. I stared at it for a moment longer wondering if I was staring at a real life Cujo or if the innocent dog was in there peering at me with curious eyes. I extended my arm forward, shutting the heavy door. The locking mechanism clicked in place.

My heels clicked on the tile back to the master bedroom. “There’s a dog in the garage,” I said. Ryan wasn’t sure of what to make of it, but I must have had a look of genuine concern. He acted quickly and stood up.

“Is it still there?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I shut the door on it. It’s that dog that lives at the corner house.” He opened the door and peered out. It was gone. I scanned the garage, playing a dangerous game of “Where’s Waldo, Rabid Edition.” I stepped into the garage cautiously and waited for the sound of dog paws running on pavement preparing to lunge at me. Halfway out of the garage and the dog appeared from behind my car.

“FUCK!” I mumbled. “Don’t make eye contact…DON’T MAKE EYE CONTACT!” I said out loud as if to document to Ryan that I was taking the proper precautions to avoid a savage animal vs. woman confrontation. “They can smell fear!” I said in a half-laughing, half-distressed tone.

“Hurry and get inside the car,” Ryan said in the most calm voice he could, but it just filled me with more panic. A small figure appeared from the rear of my car; the dog walked around to the driver’s side. How fast can Ryan get to me if I got attacked right now? I thought.

“Oh God!” I exclaimed. I looked at Ryan and said, “This is how the zombie apocalypse starts!” I recoiled in the safety of my car. I started engine and looked in all directions before backing up. There was no sign of the four-legged demon. I put the car in reverse and the rearview backup camera screen appeared. The dog stood there at what looked like six feet behind the car. I stepped on the brake and watched as it stood there panting, its tongue still lolling at the side. I froze, unable to curse at it or even honk the horn. It looked around before skipping off back in the direction toward its home.

I lived to fight another day.