In the world, one single rule applies to the men: Make the Woman happy. Do something she likes, and you get points. Do something she dislikes and points are subtracted. You don’t get any points for doing something she expects. Sorry, that’s the way the game is played.

Sunday night, following a brief ceremony, Nicole Johnson was awarded the vacant title of Miss California, after the already famous disqualification of Tiffany Teen.

Questioned about the reasons of her nomination, the young girl offered a somewhat naive response, raising smiles from the audience: “I think the way I presented. I had a lot of confidence on stage and I think I looked great in the red dress”.

Interestingly, although she’s not yet a big name in showbiz, Nicole is used with gold medals. Last year, she had a relationship with the famous Michael Phelps, none other than the best swimmer in history and also the winner of eight titles at the Summer Olympics in Beijing.

During the last days I’ve done a lot of things… At least I’ve found solutions to a few of my problems… It’s all about my new girlfriend, that I don’t get go see too much the next 7 months… And now she’s moving in with a friend, which is perfectly okay as she needs a place to live. But I’m bloody jealous… I don’t know how to make it.

ang hirap pag magkalayo kayo ng taong mahal nyo.
di naman ako mahilig magsulat ng blogs pero dito ko lang mailalabas lahat ng nararamdaman ko. lihim ang aming pag-iibigan ng aking mahal na girlfriend dahil hindi pa siya pwede magkaroon ng kasintahan at kung pwede man ay dapat lalaki. nakakainis man isipin pinilit ako ng aking ina umuwi sa amin at kung hindi ako susunod sa kanya ay she will be force to tell my girlfriends parents about me and her. i really hate the fact that my own mother uses my weakness just for me to follow her. i got no choice but to follow! i hate my mum so much for doing that to me until now i wont forgive her! ill just follow what she says and after my studies i wont let her pakialam my life. i really miss my girlfriend i want to be with her 24/7. all i wish is that there will be time that her parents can accept me and i wont be hiding from them. i promised to myself that i wont forgive my mum. i expect her to be supportive and i am not happy in my life without my girlfriend. the only reason why i want to be alive is my girlfriend. i dont know if how long i can hold on. i really want to die. i cant accept the fact that my own mother threaten me! i really cant forgive her! i really want to die.

I had the boyfriend over this weekend..

It’s always great having him around.  As time goes by, you would think that I’d be used to the fact that we hardly see each other.. but I don’t.  I’d still love to have that kind of boyfriend that was around a lot more.  I’d love to have that kind of relationship in which people don’t really associate one without the other.

No.. wait.. I take that back..

As long as I think that would be great.. I think I’d still cherish having a separate identity from the “Joe/Rachel” dynamic..

Anyway.. we had a great date night which made me realize that it doesn’t matter where you go anymore.  What matters is the time spent with your significant other.

He and I, well, probably ME more than HE, wanted to go out for a “date night.”  It had been awhile since we did the whole “dinner and a movie” or “just going out” thing.  The only problem was there weren’t any good movies out… and we wanted to go hit up a lounge at a local casino.. but he didn’t have the right clothes..

So we found ourselves at my house after a dinner with my parents.. and on our respective laptops playing games.. eventually we found ourselves pulling out the old Mah Jong tiles from my parents bedroom and playing Mah Jong the whole night.http://artsyprincess.wordpress.com/wp-admin/post-new.php

That has to be one of the most fun date nights we have had in awhile.  The quality of time was full of memories that I will cherish for a long time.

I learned that dates don’t always consist of some sort of outing, but special times together doing special things.

For all those people who want to find out if your partner is cheating or the password to your partner’s facebook/myspace/e-mail/msn and other. Or if you are a parent worrying about what your kid might be doing at the computer behind closed doors.

Business going bad? Time to check up on your employees surfing habits. But how to do this, without getting caught trying to get some information?

Keep reading, I have the solution for all of you people.
I chose to introduce you to a keylogging/surveillance program after finally finding the tool that will give myself some answers to questions regarding my own relationship. I have searched for quite a long time and thought that there just aren’t any effective programs out there yet. But I found out that there is, it’s called All In One Keylogger, I gave it a try and I was honestly said frightened about the information it is able to collect, it will give you the answers to all your questions and suspiciousness.

With this program everything is possible, from getting a password to any community site, e-mail or forums and seeing all chat logs or messages – to recording microphone sounds (cybersex or the chat with another person and even webcam activity! (Both the own persons and a possible strangers webcam if he/she is watching naked teenagers behind your back). And best of all: you will have PROOF of what you have seen, which you obviously wont if you just suspect something without this program.

The program fits for:

a) People in a relationship
b) Business administration, finding out what your employees do when they “work”
c) Parents who want to keep track of their kids.

From their homepage you can read about the futures of All In One Keylogger, as I find it a bit pointless to copy paste whole production info page. Don’t be scared off by the word keylogger, YOU are the master of the program, only you will ever have control of the logs, pictures and audio that it monitors. Below is a lot of information about the features and what the program does, I recommend to read it in order to get a idea about the program.

Product Website:
http://www.plimus.com/jsp/redirect.jsp?contractId=1682768&referrer=Niar

I chose to speak more about my personal experiences of the program instead of talking about all the futures, those can all be found by following the link above to the product site.

What does All In One Keylogger do?

All In One Keylogger logs all keystrokes and passwords that have been typed into crypted files on your computer, it tracks all windows and applications that have been launched, clipboard, chat conversations (sent and received), all Web sites that have been visited, e-mails sent and received.

You can set it to take screen snapshots every few seconds or on each mouse click, just like a surveillance camera. It can also record Microphone sounds and restrict the access to specified Web sites and applications if wanted. It can even be set up to send these logs to your e-mail or FTP for tracking when you are away!

Personally I hate it the times I get the feeling in my stomach that something might be going on when I’m away from my partner, this is the solution to get rid of the paranoia, or to get proof for your suspicions. It snaps up all usernames and passwords into the very easily readable log viewer supported in the All In One Keylogger program. And maybe even more importantly you can set it up to take screen snapshots every few seconds and view the pictures later. I chose to divide the potential usage areas into different categories, you might wonder what the All In One Keylogger could be good for, I’ll tell you.

Relationship:
In the survey that took place in United States in the year of 2005 which includes married couples only, 56% of the participants of the survey said that during their marriage they had at least one sexual encounter with a person that is not their spouse. Are you living in a relationship and suspect that your partner is cheating on you, or doing other stuff he/she shouldn’t be doing on your/her computer (flirting harshly on community sites, MSN messenger contacts, webcam usage, microphone usage or visiting sites that are uncomfortable in a relationship.. the list goes on.

This is where All In One Keylogger can be there to save you from wasting time on your relationship, you wonder what your partner does when he/she is on the computer and you are away or working night shift. Well there is no reason to keep wondering and being paranoid about what she might be doing, you can find it out directly by downloading the trial version straight away (it is amazingly easy to set up, and the best part is that it is totally undetectable/invisible in windows, so no one can find out it’s installed and running.. read more on product site for more detailed info).

 It basically records all keystrokes, and shows in which program the text has been typed in, stores visited sites and you can set it up to take a picture of the screen for example every 10 seconds!

Employers:
In the survey that took place in Britain in the year 2006, 87% of the employees participating in the survey said that they surf on the internet during their work at least once a week. 73% of them said that they surf at least once a day. 23% of them said that they dedicate more time to surfing on the internet than to their work! In the additional survey that took place in the same year answered 36% of the employers, participants of the survey mentioned that they are afraid that secrets of the company will be sent to their competitors from the company computers by their employees. 4% announced that they fell victim to the theft of company secrets by their workers from the company computers.

Are you running a small sized company, and wonder why you aren’t getting as much work done as you should be getting. Well the solution is here, with All In One Keylogger you can make sure who are actually working and who are not. The result can be scary, you might find out that the employee is actually playing online poker half day or such, no wonder that the results aren’t so promising. There are a lot of people who don’t care as long as their getting paid, so they will just entertain themselves in some way instead of actually working.

Download trial (7 days free):
http://www.plimus.com/jsp/download_trial.jsp?contractId=1682768&referrer=Niar

Parents:
Today, almost every child has access to internet. This comes thanks to the advance in technology, but has also risks involved. Did you know that: The average age when the children encounter pornography in the internet is 11? The age of the largest pornography consumer group in the internet is between 12 to 17? 85% of children between the ages 6-16 encountered pornographic content intentionally or unintentionally (most of them while preparing their homework). 25% of children between ages 9-17 will freely disclose their home address in the internet? 60% of children who committed suicide, declared their intentions online directly or indirectly? One in five children who use the computer chat rooms has been approached over the internet by pedophiles? Only 25% of youth who received sexual solicitation told a parent.

The children today are very sophisticated and most of us parents don’t have the knowledge to know what they are doing behind their closed doors in front of the computer. Are they browsing to inappropriate websites, are they downloading illegal content using P2P programs that will in the future result in lawsuits of thousands of dollars? What personal information they disclose about themselves, are they talking to adults, or maybe they meet them?

All In One Keylogger has many features:

No activity on your computer will be able to evade this high quality Keylogger. Does your kid make secret chat conversations with adult strangers? Maybe even with a pedophile that searches for his next victim? Does he surf to pornographic sites? Maybe he even exposes his personal details where he is not supposed to? Does he use P2P programs, sharing copyrighted materials which could constitute a pretext to a lawsuit of tens thousands of dollars? Have you ever wondered why does your husband “work” on his computer so late at the night? Does he have a secret online lover?Have you ever wondered who is your wife’s “partner” she talks with all the time? Do your employees surf on the internet instead of doing their work which you pay them for? Do they sell company secretes to your competitors? A high quality Keylogger should give you the answers to all these questions. No activity will be able to evade from it. No undesirable activity will be able to evade from you! As said, a high quality Keylogger is an “All In One Keylogger”, so just press this link to download “All In One Keylogger”:

Download trial (7 days free):
http://www.plimus.com/jsp/download_trial.jsp?contractId=1682768&referrer=Niar

Link for buying full version:
https://www.plimus.com/jsp/buynow.jsp?contractId=1682768&referrer=Niar

With this program everything is possible, from getting a password to any community site, e-mail or forums and seeing all chat logs or messages – to recording microphone sounds (cybersex or the chat with another person and even webcam activity! (Both the own persons and a possible strangers webcam if he/she is watching naked teenagers behind your back). And best of all: you will have PROOF of what you have seen, which you obviously wont if you just suspect something without this program.

I tried to bring up the most important things in this article, but there sure is more to read if you still aren’t sure, simply visit the links provided and read more about people who have bought the product or view the awards that the product has received. Everyone has different use or needs of the program, and it sure was a relief to my head after finally getting answer to my questions using this brilliant program.

Mr. Fucking Perfect,

It’s kinda disgusting to me how I want to be inside you when you put on some music that I want to get lost in.  It’s kinda fucking disgusting that I want to get a ’strap on’ reserved for my girlfriend, and make love to you.  I want to consume you and I’m not quite sure how.  I want to have a penis so I can explore you with it… Not rape you like I want to do to my GF’s, but just to get inside you.  It’s disgusting to me how far down the scale of bitter sweet S&M I want to go with you, which is not a thought, but a reaction you make me have.

Your “perfect” goes beyond what I expect from any human other than myself.  Even there, you’re a ‘Over Achiever’ which passes me up with skill and application in the real world.  You make my mouth water to the point of drooling onto your hand that is wrapped around my neck pressing into me the fact of your owning me.  You have the power to make me wet in both my mouth and my pussy and at the same time make my ass hole perk up to give your dick a big warm kiss.  Every hole wants to have you inside it.  I want perfection all over my face when your done and you’ve handled your business with my body.

Mr.Fucking Perfect you ware out my mind.  I await the day our adventure takes it to the next level and wares out my body.   I love the charisma you have on my thinking, and the invitation to be myself, truly vulnerable and independently strong.  My mind is like clay around you, and it is safe to be so.  It is possible to be like clay with other men, they always encourage it…   Those men do it so they can mold it like clay, with perversion, persuasion and manipulation…  Mr.Perfect, you want to see it displayed and working, even if it is against you in some way.   You find joy in watching it become what it is meant to become.

Mr. Fucking Perfect, I have Spiritual lust for you right now.  It may fade and I may move on, but I know the rarity in finding another Mr.Perfect again, and I know it may be found of your caliber.  For a man to have the ability to hold friendship in the highest regard, over sexual exploration, is very rare.  It is actually rare for anyone, man or woman.  The next time I am getting fucked, I will think of you.  When you fuck me I will think of nothing else, but you.

www.kink.com

During bondage, the word stop can be confusing to a lot of people.

The word “stop” can sometimes be said out of habit, rather than really wanting what’s going on, to actually stop, and when some people hear it, they may ignore it because they think there partner is just role-playing. This can cause problems. For that reason, you and your partner should set up a safety word that should only be used when you are uncomfortable or in pain. The safety word should definitely not be stop, and it should be a word that’s random, and doesn’t have to do with sex. Some suggestions for safety words are: pineapple, shoes and lemons. The list for safety words can go on and on. Be Creative!

Someone even told me about words they use for measure, for this they use traffic light colors.

“Red” means stop the action no matter what.”

“Yellow” a warning that things are getting a little too heavy.

“Green” things are fine.

If your partner happens to be gagged, it can be hard for them to speak! So give them a Prop! To hold in their hand, if they drop it, stop everything and see if there ok.
There will be a point where you will know each other so well, that you will only need a safety word to stop, and you will be able to tell when your partner needs a break, All on your own without them saying anything!

The Starter BDSM Toy Bag

The Starter BDSM Toy Bag

Kit Includes:

Since my friend Ian has now asked me a couple times how he can know if a girl is in fact just one of the guys I’ve decided to humor him and write my opinion.   I’ll start by telling about the first time I had a guy refer to me as such.

My best friend at the time, Jason and I met a girl from our curch and her new boy friend at the local bar.  Many people at church had often thought Jason and I were dating, some even thought we were engaged or married.  When we arrived together and Jason was carrying my stuff she assumed we had gotten together.  Jason reassured her we absoutley were not by telling her “she’s just my drinking buddy”.  Jason and I had known each other since Youth Group days and were both extremely involved in the church.  We even lived together for awhile (sepearate bedrooms people).  I was kind of taken aback when Jason put it that way, because to me it was more than that.  He was the one I went to when a guy treated me like crap, or when I needed something.  He was like the big brother I never had.  So it really got me to thinking.

Guys, a girl that is “just one of the guys” is a girl that you are extremely comfortable around.  She’s not like your girlfriend, she’s like your best guy friend.  You don’t watch what you say around her like you may around your girlfriend (esp a new gf).  Personally I’ve heard about everything from how their herna tests went (turn your head and cough), to “I’d do her, but she can’t make me pancakes in her morning” (oh Mikey how I love you).  She’s the girl you’re okay farting in front of and having burping contests with.  She’s better than your guy friends because she’ll help you pick out clothes for a first date with an “8″ a “10″ after you have a few, but she’s still going to make fun of you when you don’t close deal on the drunk slut you met at the bar.

She’s the girl that will make fun of you for wearing those 8 year old jeans with holes in the butt, she won’t yell at you for wearing them in public and make you throw them away.  She accepts you for the way you are, unlike the girls you are more than likely dating that try to change everything about you (that sweater she bought you for your birthday she makes you wear on date night…that’s her changing you).  She doesn’t care that you wear your ratty old PJ pants when she comes over.

She’s the one you play video games with, drink with, watch sports with.  She does it not because she feels like she has to because you’re dating she does it because she enjoys them as much as you do.  And what’s more is that you aren’t irritated watching the Super Bowl with her.   She’s not JUST watching it because Tom Brady or the Manning brothers are hot (because come on THEY ARE), she actually cares about the game, and KNOWS what’s happening.  She’s not asking stupid questions like why’d they throw the yellow thingy.

So Ian, in my sickened and drugged state this is all I have for you.  The picture of Tom Brady was for me

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEE!!!!

Well, okay, actually t was yesterday, but shhh. I am now EIGHTEEN! WOOOH! This weekend was EPIC!! Me&some of my girls went out to Hull&went clubbing&rented a hotel room. SUPER fun. Had suuuch a great night.

AND, my&J are now official Oddly enough, our anniversary is on my birthday haha.

One problem.
J has an ED to.

WHY do ALL the people I Get involve with always end up having EDs??? GAH. S had one, L had one and now J has on. So does L and M and A. It’s like, I can’t get away from it.

But.. we’ll see how it gows. She’s realy really great. I want to be with her for a long time, thankfully, she feels the same way.. We’re on the same page for a lot of things.

Okay guys, that’s all for today, I’m sooo exhausted..partied too much this weekend haha. I’ll leave you guys with a picture of my new tattoo, that I got today and I absoutely LOVE!

Amandah

Ohh, my tattoooo )

Polyamory is something that has been close to my heart for about 12 years now, when I first fell in love with my good female friend in my late 20’s. My husband ended up falling in love with her too. I ‘googled’ ‘menage a trois’ furiously back then trying to figure out wth was going on with me, as I had no notion of polyamory. And it started much study and exploration of the concept in thought and irl. We no longer see our friend, although we keep in touch.  It took about 10 years of emotional and physical coming and going (most going–haha no pun intended!) to find closure with that relationship.  Our marriage is in a mellow phase now, without too much going on, and I’ve gotten pretty used to waiting patiently now, as being poly for us, has for the most part, been our normal life just punctuated by brief exciting encounters. 

That’s pretty much how it’s fallen out over the years: Phases in Poly or Open Experiences. We haven’t lived together with others, we haven’t raised children together, and, no, although I love to joke about it, all 5 of my kids ARE my husbands. I think the commune poly ideal is more the stuff of NF idealism or something that happens in big cities. I know of many swingers (who are somewhat open) and a couple friends who have open marriages, and we all dream about it more than it really plays out in reality. Some claim to have an ‘open’ relationship–those in college who are dating, for example, but it is far different than being in a committed monogamous relationship, where you’ve thrown the key away, and are in it for the long haul, til death do you part………..

I think polyamory CAN get gluttonous if you are more in it for the sex……….It can be addicting. ***euphoric recall*** like anything else you do to excess that feels so good. I’m not just talking about having sex, although that’s usually an inevitable fall-out from liking/loving and becoming closer to someone(s).

I’m rambling because there are so many nuances to it. It is far easier to be poly if you know you are poly from the beginning and can find a poly partner to pursue a poly lifestyle with. It is hard to be poly after you are involved with someone, and when you are the opposite personality type as your partner, because you process and judge information so differently, and communication can be so difficult anyway, made more difficult the more people you add to the mix. It is so hard to communicate with your s.o. sometimes, much less agree on who you each want to see more, or how that is going to look.

And I think in writing this, I’ve turned away somewhat from the ideal of being poly to being more just sexually open and emotionally available to having other ‘friends.’ There is something too intense and recoiling about actually living poly (i’ve had snippits) for us, as we’ve been on this path. Perhaps it is due to our introverted personalities; I just don’t want someone else in my life that often or that deeply on a daily basis. (infj/istp marriage here)

I prefer 3somes. I am so lucky, because my husband and I have a special and wonderful relationship. So I prefer the tightness and closeness I feel with my husband when we are with someone else.  My ideal is to have a guy friend with whom I can trust and be sexual with and can hang out with occasionally, and a girl too.  My husband is straight so he and the guy would be friends.  Not just a guy or girl to see when we wanna have sex, but to actually have some sort of fond relationship with; someone(s) who we can share our happy life with and to grow in new ways. With life distractions it is hard to meet people who can fit in this, but we are always open to it if it crosses our path.

Being poly with couples is harder just because you get so many more relationships and schedules involved. And the relationships might not be as healthy as yours. 4 people means 12 relationships going on!! You can imagine how hard that is to manage.

But the sex is way more phenomenal when you are open. And you don’t even have to be open physically necessarily. Just being able to share with many others (if you are single) and your s.o. (if you have a primary partner) about your attractions and real fantasies goes such a long way in the sex between the two of you. And knowing that you really would/could be physical is extra hot. After we’ve simply been out/been around others we have the hottest (and for me, most orgasmic) sex. It’s always a work in progess. I never feel like we arrive. I feel my learning in being poly is like always just messing up or making poor judgments, getting burned, and trying to not repeat said action. I’d like to arrive in it. But I haven’t yet.

In the morning, my husband and I slept in peaceful slumber until after the sun was well up, ignoring the loud childrens’ play in the house as best we could.  Finally, I rolled toward him and whispered in his ear, “Guess what I did last night.”  He said, “What?”  and his eyes opened further as his interest was piqued.  “Sheila and I were together,” I snuzzled in his ear.  I continued to tell him details as best I could, in a slightly reticent fashion because part of me was still on high alert that he would be mad.  He made a sort-of moaning sound and I saw the covers move slightly.  I had no idea what he was doing at first.  Then the breath escaped his mouth and I knew he had come upon hearing my news.  That fast.  Wow.  He really was turned on by the idea of my friend and me being together.

However, as the erotic moment waned away, and the morning wore on, he became increasingly upset.  He was hurt that I had done something without telling him, without warning him, without asking his permission.  I understood and felt horrible about my misdeed; the memory of it now reduced to a guilt-inciting torment rather than the sweet thought that it was.  He was unapproachable.  Angry.  Cold.  Acted like a victim.   He had always been the jealous type, so this just made him worse.  Not able to handle discontent in those whom I love, I was miserable and offered up apologies galore, but they all fell on deaf ears.  

The hardest part lasted for days.  We were both forlorn and sad, but I was also secretly going through withdrawals from my friend.  I pretty much had to leave off talking to her or my husband would get mad.  I had to sacrifice my friend to save my hurt marriage.  I was starting to yearn to be with her again.  I not only missed her friendship but I missed that extra nuance of something that now existed between us, that heavy attraction–that energy– was the tension I had been feeling, but not understanding.  Conflicted and confused, I felt like a prisoner.  I had just discovered this treasure trove within myself, that I could like a woman as a lover, yet I could not touch it or it would hurt the most important person in my life, and potentially my beautiful family.

One day soon thereafter, I followed him into the shower and appealed to the shower curtain in the sincerest way I could and with as much honesty my guilty conscience would allow that, like it or not, I think that I am now bisexual.  Isn’t that what it’s called when you want to be with men and women?  I was so sorry to do this to him, to us, but I couldn’t change who I was.  What did he want me to do about it?  I could ignore it, repress it.  I didn’t have to act on it.  But in all honesty, I told him while he bathed, I really liked it, and I wanted more.

He heard me but said it just wasn’t what he wanted in his life or in his marriage, end of story.  I didn’t want to rock the boat, so I said as little as possible about my transgression and the underlying change within me.  It wasn’t long before he was okay with sheila and I talking to each other on the phone again, and we were gradually allowed to see each other again.  By this time I was wanting her so badly I couldn’t stand it.  So, on one of those long car drives together it was inevitable that our hands found each other’s thighs, and the seductive looks passed between our eyes.  I went to her house any chance I got while my husband was at work.  I felt horribly guilty, but I couldn’t help what I was doing.  I was moved about by some unseen devil who was pulling my strings.  Normally a faithful and honest person, I did not recognize this new woman who schemed and planned to get a few minutes alone with her new lover.  

Our clandestine relationship only lasted two weeks.  I knew the end was near when sheila and I had a mishap that would have exposed us if not for a little luck and ingenuity.  But the writing was on the wall; the Universe was saying our time was running out.  Upon meeting up, we drove to the river to park and make out.  Mindful of the ever oppressive Time, we frantically got it on in the front seat of my subaru.  making out was a little more familiar now, but we didn’t have much time.  I pulled sheila’s pants down to her ankles and peeled her panties down to reveal her ever-sopping-wet pussy which I dove into.  Since we left the radio running (duh!) the car battery ran down.  After we hurriedly dressed, I tried to start the car, already feeling way too late, and working up the lies to explain what had taken so long (did I think my husband was a dunce?), and the battery was dead!  Oh Shit.  No one was around to help us.  The worst vision overcame me that I would have to call him to come and jump the car and catch us red-handed in our obvious deception.  But as luck would have it, we were near a hill.  So sheila pushed the car while I popped the clutch, and we were rolling out of our little lying rendezvous.

I can’t remember how he finally found out about us.  I think he just got suspicious of my behavior and knew I was hiding something.  I never have lied or cheated since that two week episode.  I am not proud of having deceived him, but I accept that I did the best I could at the time with the overwhelming changes taking place in me.

My husband was very angry and hurt about my deception.  He and I began marriage counseling because his anger and withdrawal were just more than I, or he, could bear.  It worked well, even though the therapist did not support us in our lifestyle choices, but he and I started seriously dialoguing about polyamory around this time.  He liked sheila and had been thinking about becoming a part of this thing going on with us.  I found the thought of them together taboo and erotic at the same time.  Being the generous person that I am, I encouraged him to become involved.  I knew a menage a trois would be insanely intense with two people whom I cared so much for.  

She was open to the idea, being the sexy girl that she was, and admitted, giggling and guilty, that she found my husband attractive.  So we met up at her house.  ha ha.  It is so funny to remember that first 3some!  I don’t remember details but the feeling surrounding it all was this halting, embarrassed, fast, tense experience that we didn’t get a whole lot out of, except the desire to try again.  Sheila started liking my husband more after that.  

One of the most amazing discoveries I made about myself besides learning that I could love a woman as well as a man, was that i could love more than one person at a time.  Having been a helpless romantic from my preteen years when I voraciously read Harlequin romances and every Zane Grey published, I bought in to the notion that there was one perfect person for everyone, and once you found that person, all would be goodness and light in your life.  Forever.  So, realizing I could not only love a woman, but love two people at the same time [or more?!]–made for a very intense time of exponential growth for me.  And we began to try to live polyamory.

Yes, covers. everbody has that cover of a song they consider blaspemous, and yet others will say are brilliant. But, do they have a point?

Cover songs are (in my opinion) essential to music. If you want to get into a band, and you have no idea where to start; find some covers they have done. They allow you to get a good grasp of what the band sound like.

It seems like you can’t step into a store these days without a reminder that Christmas is right around the corner. (Whatever happened to waiting until after Thanksgiving?!) I have double gift dilemma at this time of the year because my gamer’s birthday is in the middle of November. Now my boyfriend loves gadgets and basically all things geeky so it should be easy to buy him a present, except when he wants something he buys it right away. I’ve resorted to frantically writing down any item he mentions he might want and then threatening him under penalty of death not to buy it.

Nevertheless, I’m always trying to find the next great present, thus, the birth of a new section to this blog – Gamer Gifts. I will try to post great gift ideas for your gamer here. This week’s gift, a specialized XBOX 360 headset & microphone.

Gift: Mad Catz Modern Warfare 2 Throat Communicator in Camo or Snow (shown below in Camo)

Item price: $29.99 [£24.99]

Which console is it available for: XBOX 360

What it does: The throat communicator works like most 360 headsets and allows the player to chat with other gamers online. The difference is that this mic wraps around the back of the throat instead of having the traditional mouthpiece.

Where to buy it: Video game retailers such as Gamestop, amazon.com [In the UK you can buy it from Play.com]

Why it’s cool: The design is military inspired, so gamers can feel like they’re in the real front line action. Not only that, but it’s officially licensed for Modern Warfare 2.

Who to buy this for: Your die hard first person shooter fan who secretly wants to play a little military dress up.

Review: I haven’t actually used this item, so I can’t endorse it. The reviews I’ve read are mixed saying that it is a cool item, but slightly overpriced, and there are definitely better mics out there. The real reason to buy this is for its novelty. You can check out reviews at Gizmodo or Amazon.

Marty cradled the Ruger Sportsman lovingly, Circassian walnut cool against his cheek. In the lush park below, a puff of earth appeared beside the carved fairy tree.

Deidre gathered his grimy jacket around her knees. ‘Jesus Marty, can we go now? You said “one shot” – that’s three! I’m cold, and we’re going to get caught if we stay any longer!’

Counting to ten in Latin, Marty lay his weapon with exaggerated care on its carry sheath and faced his girlfriend. She looked away as he stroked her bra strap, then put her hand over his. Marty slid his fingers around her throat, his voice quiet and measured.

‘You insisted on coming, remember? I explained to you in detail the importance of today’s exercise. You said you understood my pain and would support me during this difficult time. I’m almost finished. You can either stand by me…’

‘Or what?’ Deidre plucked at his iron grip, tears welling.

Marty stilled and his eyes clouded.

She shuddered. ‘OK baby, I’ll support you. I’ll wait. I’m sorry.’

He endorsed her capitulation with one look and returned to the business of the day. Taking a cloth from his bag, he carefully wiped his hands then pressed them to his face, exhaling slowly.

New laws would soon separate him from his beautiful machine. After agonising deliberation, he’d decided not to seal it in his bedroom wall. Though the risk was slim, discovery would mean jail and he wasn’t going back there for anything.

Settling face down into the travel rug, Marty clutched his rifle and peered past the air conditioning units. The barren roof of the office tower was deserted, as it had been since dawn. Deidre curled into a ball between his splayed legs, warming them pleasantly.

He breathed carefully: in while looking away and out with each return to the sight. Gradually his concentration returned, along with the sense of solemnity he desired.

**********

The Fitzroy Gardens are a paradise for brides: rolling meadows, mighty avenues, follies and ponds. Dozens marry there each year. Hundreds more come for photographs. As a consequence, the gardens have become Melbourne’s premier bride sniping ground.

It began during the recession. Intersections filled with menacing youths, smearing car windscreens with jagged rubber devices. Oblivious to protest, they extracted change from red-light maroons, then fled before two-minute tides.

With the traffic-light market quickly cornered, the poor had to seek alternatives. One Saturday, a dishevelled woman approached a regal bride at the end of her photo session.

‘I’ve just taken two dozen behind-the-scenes shots of your lovely party.’ The dishevelled woman produced a film from her battered Pentax.

The bride regarded her sternly. ‘Yes, I saw you. I wondered why you were creeping around in the bushes like that.’

‘They’re yours for twenty bucks.’

An excited bridesmaid scampered up. ‘What’d you get?’

‘Oh, the best man tripping over the Esky; you pinning the broken strap; the chauffeur pinching a champagne. That sort of thing.’

‘And you want twenty?’

‘Yeah.’

The bridesmaid fished a note from her purse and traded it for the roll, which she pressed into her sister’s gloved hand.

‘Present, babe; from me. Who knows? Some of them might be ace. And what’s twenty bucks on your wedding day?’

‘Too right,’ beamed Melbourne’s first bride sniper, before darting away.

The craze spread like wildfire. From Collins Place to the steps of Parliament, photo sessions were plagued. Canny snipers raided opportunity shops for frocks and morning coats. Thus camouflaged, they became the bane of professional photographers.

Police were disempowered after early arrests led to lawsuits from snap-happy relatives (whose only crime was poor dress). Composition went out the window, ruined by strangers in frayed formal clothing – leaping, grinning and holding ancient cameras aloft to capture every Special Moment.

**********

Martin Banff had been a bride sniper. An honours degree in arts had earned him only a brutal factory job. Desperate for a better life, he took a redundancy package and failed miserably in a lawn mowing franchise – flogging his recalcitrant ride-on to death in a hailstorm.

He next tried pizza delivery, only to be savaged by the wolfhound of an incautious pensioner.

Too proud for the dole, Martin decided to use his expensive Canon rather than pawn it. He targeted an early morning wedding in his best suit and was immediately arrested. He was the first victim of bridal party fight-back, in which family friends pointed out unfamiliar faces to hired guards (who checked identities before calling police).

Martin was given the option of prison or a fine. Too ashamed to contact anyone, he chose incarceration.

On his last morning, four assemblies of sweat, tattoos and missing teeth held him down while a fifth went sloppily last. Marty’s atrophied personality shattered. He returned to society with only mismatched shards. And the human immunovirus.

He secured a cleaning job and a paper round. He rented the cheapest flat. He saved. A disinterested member of his father’s shooting club for years, he started honing his skills with the weapon he’d received for his eighteenth birthday.

He grew to understand and respect it. Then he fell in love with its latent power and began polishing it behind bent venetians in a nightly ritual of obeisance.

He picked up a girl at an early opener pub and told her he was infected. She didn’t care. A fragment of his former self insisted on condoms. Each night Marty sat smoking in the shadow of his rusty balcony – watching tar-bound trees and car parts and vowing revenge on those responsible for his heinous prison experience.

But before his ideas could crystallise, Tasmania’s Port Arthur massacre triggered a revolution in gun laws.

Marty had neither the time nor the resources to identify his targets. Morose and irritable, he spent hours with his rifle, bitter that their brief affair was almost over. Like meeting the perfect girl on school holidays and knowing he’d never see her again, Marty decided to make the most of his remaining time.

The Ruger was beautiful. Sleek and compact, its oil sheen was a potent pheromone to the fluttering thing in Marty’s brain. Cool even in summer, the blued steel clove to his face whenever he sighted: at the television, the toaster, a neighbour’s silhouette or the pulsing temple of his sleeping girlfriend.

Each leapt large in the powerful scope, free from fetter and his to dandle without interference.

He did not want to hand in his gun.

**********

Marty took a sick day on the last Friday of the amnesty. Restless and depressed, he hired ‘Lawrence of Arabia’, again. For the seventh time he watched Peter O’Toole stagger from Turkish headquarters, beaten and raped almost to death.

Later came Marty’s favourite scene. Mounted on a white stallion, beneath the disapproving glare of Omar Sheriff, Lawrence regarded a fleeing enemy column and screamed with spittle-flecked mouth and wild eyes, ‘No prisoners! No prisoners!’ Unable to resist his passion and conviction, his entire army joined him in massacre.

Marty brooded in the gathering darkness. Lawrence’s tormentors hadn’t been part of the column. Yet his revenge had been absolute. Perhaps the death of any bride would grant Marty the catharsis he craved. One shot, one life – and goodbye to his lovely, lovely Ruger.

The following day was Saturday; the office building he cleaned nightly would be deserted. The roof overlooked the place where he’d been arrested.

**********

Marty pocketed his jeweller’s screwdriver. The scope had taken a knock during the fifteen-flight ascent. Nerves were doubtless interfering as well. After this last adjustment, however, he was confident of accuracy.

He panned to a grove of elms, far from grey suits and gay dresses. Pale leaflets trembled in a gentle breeze.

The possums lay curled together like caterpillars. Marty selected an old, grey male. With a harsh PFFFTT! the bullet rocketed from the Ruger’s silencer. Marty observed the distant impact and the insane scramble of bloodied, sunblind animals. The sight was fine.

The bride was tall with sharp cheekbones and almost horsy teeth. She was handsome rather than beautiful; features to last long after pretty faces had gone to pot. Marty watched her laugh and converse with her entourage.

The rotunda ceremony had been brief; now champagne sparkled. The solid groom stood next to his wife, arm round her waist as if to stop her growing any taller.

Licking his lips, Marty settled his crosshairs over the woman’s heart. Her décolletage rose and fell. Abruptly, she stooped to kiss an elderly man – the father-in-law, if size ran. Marty switched aim to the back of her head. Annoyingly, she then left the rotunda to embrace a knot of friends.

Marty regarded his gun and suppressed a choke of sorrow. Behind him, Deidre snored softly. Sunshine streamed onto his unruly hair, the effect mildly intoxicating. First it heightened his sense of loss. Then, as he basked, it made him feel light-headed; even reckless.

The week had been serious and depressing. Now he was safe in his hiding place. His would be the first crime of its kind in Australia. Surprise guaranteed escape. Could he not have a little fun before consigning the Sportsman to destruction?

With mounting excitement, Marty targeted the groom’s champagne glass. How tempting to take it out first, just to spice things up. He grinned, then gasped as the flute exploded into a cloud of particles. His mouth fell open.

‘What the F*CK?’

He checked the safety, which he’d applied automatically on taking out the possum. He looked at the crowd. There was consternation, but not panic; the groom was uninjured. Had he gripped the glass that tightly? Marty shook his head at the coincidence then rose to his knees and stretched – scanning the horizon to refresh his eye.

Deidre murmured a sleepy protest and pulled a corner of the rug over herself. To his right, Marty noticed a breath of steam drifting from a pipe in the neighbouring roof’s air conditioner. Eyes wide with disbelief, he crouched back into cover and levelled his binoculars at the pipe, just in time to see it withdraw.

He wrenched his gaze back to the wedding party. The bride lay among bent heads, carmine blooming rapidly on her breast.

Stunned, Marty turned to see a dark figure sprinting to the stairwell. Through blinding rage he brought his weapon to bear on the fleeing assassin who had stolen his idea and ruined his revenge. Leading slightly and allowing for the breeze, Marty fired.

And missed.

The round smashed into a louvered window, echoing loudly. The figure dropped, rolled and came up scanning for the source of attack. Marty froze, monitoring his target’s fervent search. From St Vincent’s Hospital came the wail of ambulances.

Concentrating on his opponent’s next move, Marty tried to ignore a strange flicker of light playing over the opposite roof. Then the sun dazzled him and the penny dropped. The scope! Its caps were off! Marty lowered his weapon in panic and the reflection flicked over the face of Bruno De Souza, who immediately fired at the sparkling source.

The bullet slammed into Marty’s cover, releasing a vicious jet of coolant. Deidre sprang in terror from the screaming plume. Bruno saw her vault and was surprised at her sex. Without hesitation he drilled three rounds into her body, cocked his head toward the sirens and reached for the door to safety.

Marty stared aghast at Deidre’s broken form, then took fresh aim. Bruno’s headless corpse tumbled heavily down two flights before slithering to a halt.

The police helicopter descended, wheeling angrily at Marty’s pot shots. Marty knew that Special Operations would be along shortly. He snapped in a fresh clip of ammunition and looked back at the gardens.

A brace of gleaming limousines had just arrived for a shoot.

Uh oh. I’m rubbing my eyes over and over but she’s still right there. How the hell can I get out of this. I’m wondering what a kidney stone feel like, cause I’m convinced I’m passing one right now through the baby-maker.  If not, how do I fake it — do I scream like I’m in horrific pain or just double over and act deaf & paralyzed? Hell, it’s not like she would know the difference anyway. Better yet, I bet there’s an app that will let me stare at my phone and make it ring. Seriously, how is nobody calling me right now? That mother rings 47 times a day, but suddenly all is right in the world right now? I pretend I didn’t hear her, but given she’s only 18 God damn inches away now and staring at me with that mixed “please make me feel better” and “I want to smash your face in with a car battery right now” look. Well, I’m sure today is going to be super delightful.

The problem is there are zero good answers you can give to the “do I look fat?” question. Only degrees of less devastating answers. Good chance that each word that comes out of your mouth is equal to 1 week of no sex. Even though you say something sweet and honest like, “no way babe!” — all your wife can think in her head is “CHEATER! I’M GOING TO CUT YOUR BALLS OFF AND FEED THEM TO THE DOG. HAHAHAHA” But you know what, given the circumstances you did okay with that response. It’s only a 3 week death sentence. Now, if you were to actually say something indifferent like “umm no, I guess not”, well enjoy the hand party you just signed up for idiot. And if you actually said something like “well hon, it does look like you have about 6 pairs of jeans on right now” then no doubt you pretty much just turned your bed into a murder scene. [If you're feeling extra dumb today, say something like "hey baby, how about a quick service before your folks get here?" and see how long it takes for her to get some matches and set you on fire.]

But wait a minute. What in the hell is wrong with you chicks? I absolutely applaud you for wanting to look good and stay skinny. You should. One Kirstey Alley grazing the US is one too many. But a message to all you single digit sizes: unless you’re 4′2″, you’re probably doing okay, so relax.

I’ll let you gals in on a few secrets. Please memorize them, laminate them on a card, write them in lipstick on the mirror you’re punching right now, or put them on flashcards. Take a minute to decide.

Secret #1: Get ready for this. Here goes — guys do not like the 89 lb look. It’s creepy and feels illegal. No guy (that’s not on the Megan’s Law site) wants to feel like he’s with a 14 year old Kenyan boy. Skinny not scrawny.

Secret #2: We look at your face and think “son of a bitch she’s sexy.” You look at your own face wondering how you caught the Down Syndrome. You look at your own ass and see jiggle. Your guy looks at your ass and sees a “Vacancy” sign. No joke. Again, your view of things is distorted.

Secret #3: Here’s one that none of you mirror-starved nutjobs seem to get. If you’re in your 20’s or 30’s, and your reasonably thin, taking care of yourself, and somewhat active, then enjoy the fact that you look damn good and your husband/boyfriend honestly thinks you’re hot. So do the Mexican gardeners raking leaves at the bank, and as we’re all aware they’re likely the toughest graders on the planet. So enjoy the hell out of it, because you rarely hear dudes gabbing about how hot a 54 year old is. You’re in hottie prime, please enjoy it before it’s gone. That last sentence goes on the flashcard.

Secret #4: Rate yourself right now on a hottie scale of 1-10. Now add +2 to your number. That’s what your husband/boyfriend and most guys see you as. If you gave yourself a 6, you’re probably an 8. [Now, if you gave yourself a 2, then it does mean you're still only a 4 -- and let's be honest if you're a 4 then there's a good amount of work to do right now. There's no pause button on the calendar honey, you and I both know you should be knee deep in sweat and vomit on a treadmill right about now. You can finish reading this at the gym.]

Secret #5: Be more stripper-like. I don’t mean change your name to Jade and start smelling like strawberries. But, guys like strippers because strippers are confident in their bodies. She has some jiggle or other imperfections,  but the stripper knows she’s hot (or pretends to) and radiates that confidence. The stripper is not a size 0 and you don’t need to be either. Get your flashcard out at write the following: size zero bad, acting like a stripper good. No stripper has ever been hanging upside down on a pole and asked if her G-string makes her ass look big. [I actually just changed my mind on the strawberries. While you're messing around with $100 perfumes and expensive lotions, I guarantee you the retard on the other side of the bed is 100% aroused by the $3.99 "Strawberry Daiquiri" lotion in the clearance bin over at CVS. You should please your husband and wallet and go get it.]

So, hopefully I gave you some useful tools and advice to consider the next time you’re wrestling the mirror to the ground. You don’t look fat. Just enjoy how ridiculous you look because there will absolutely come a day when you wish you had the body you have now (see #3). I assure you, if you were a dude you would want to do you. 40,000 Mexican landscapers can’t be wrong.

She sat across from me. She on the couch, I in the rocker. She was nervously giddy, ensconced in more eye makeup than she normally wore, and slightly tipsy from the late night of bowling. I was surprised she even dropped in that late as I don’t live anywhere near anything, am absolutely out of everyone’s way, so my friends never drop in on me. I myself was excited and my mind was racing as to what this unexpected surprise could mean.

Sheila and I had been having intense and unusual conversations lately, more unusual than normal for us, which is saying something as my chosen career of midwifery lent itself quite often to avante garde subjects. We had been talking on the phone for hours every day, me pacing around outside with the baby in the backpack trying to squeeze in another five minutes before the little one really lost it and started wailing. I just never tired of talking to her. She was friend, confidante, kindred spirit, and soon-to-be lover. But I didn’t know this yet. Not quite yet anyway.

I had been feeling the tension in the air for a couple of weeks now. Especially when we were in her subaru together. In close proximity alone. The feeling was foreign to me, but I could have cut it with a knife. I noticed the tension—it was unavoidable—but I knew not what it meant and it had me baffled. I wasn’t intimidated by her, so that couldn’t be it. I wasn’t uncomfortable around her.  I had fun with her. I thought maybe this tension meant that she didn’t like me or was uncomfortable with me in some way, and that I was feeling that; or, the tiny inkling thought made its way into my brain:  Maybe she’s attracted to me and I’ll have to break it to her that I’m totally straight.

Then one night I had the dream. The foursome dream that she, her husband, me, and my husband all went camping together and ended up having a sexual romp in their truck camper. It was a crazy, unfamiliar dream, but when I woke up I was still feeling titillated by it and told my husband about it. He was immediately turned on about it, and we started talking about what if? What if we really did have a foursome? Did he like my friend? Was he attracted to her? Did I like her husband? Could I be with him? Could I be with her? All of these questions hovered in the air as they are when you first begin exploring the concept of open marriage.

That day, during our typical phone conversation I told Sheila about my dream.

She giggled and responded like my husband had responded; excited and curious about the possibility. Then the real awkward subject was broached. Giggle, giggle, would she and I be together in this foursome, giggle, giggle. Then we moved on to safer territory. But the more I pondered my dream and the resulting questions over the next couple of days, the more I realized that it was my friend that I was subconsciously wanting to be with, not her husband.

So here we were about a week later, quietly sitting in my cozy living room looking at each other but sorta speechless with nervous smiles on our faces. Well, I’m shy sometimes, but I can’t take that kind of tense pressure very long. So I said, after some small talk, “You know it wasn’t Charlie I wanted to be with in my dream.” And she said, “Oh? Really?” And sat quietly and waited for me to finish. And I said, “I want to be with you.” There. Out. Said. Oh my god! I can’t believe I just said that. She responded in a positive way, slightly laughingly, not really surprised by what I had said, but nervous nonetheless.

I can’t remember every detail after that. It was 11 years ago. But we ended up making out on the couch. I had never made out with a woman before and I was struck that each of us was waiting for the other to lean in and be the ‘giver’ of the kiss, while we both sorta were passively waiting to receive. And just to kiss someone different than my husband was weird. Little lips. Taste. Smell. Response.

I couldn’t wait to get in her pants. Really. I can’t believe how badly I wanted her. But I wanted her. I didn’t give much thought to my husband sacked out in the bedroom, dead out from drinking too much with his golfing buddies. He did cross my mind, but I knew what I wanted and nothing was stopping me. Plus he and I had talked about the dream and the possibilities that could be created in a foursome scenario. So on the edges of my consciousness, I told myself he would be okay with it. It wasn’t like I was sleeping with a man, after all. She was my best friend.

My hand plunged down and she was so wet it turned me on immensely. It wasn’t long until I had her pants down and was exploring her with my tongue. Again, like the kiss, I was in foreign territory, had never come close to doing anything like this before. I was fumbling and awkward. I opened her lips with my hand and just started licking all around, no rhyme or reason to what I was doing. She tasted musky, like my pussy smelled. She was taken slightly aback at my ferocity. But we were both feverish and moaning and on some sexual roller coaster ride that wasn’t stopping until it was over.

We enjoyed each other immensely that night, pleasing each other in an awkward and new, naive sort of way.  I was surprised at how intensely my body responded to her that night, yet there was so much trust and safety between us already, that I felt comfortable being vulnerable, and a whole new way of being Woman was opened up for me.  It was over after about an hour.  There really hadn’t been much foreplay, unless you consider the fantasizing and tension and sexual innuendoes of the previous two weeks foreplay.

I moved away and got ready for bed.

She followed my lead and left pretty quickly. I wasn’t embarrassed about what we had done, but I was ready to move on and not hang out. My feeling of “being done” sorta caught me off guard because all I had wanted that week had been her. I snuggled in to bed with my hubby and prepared what I was going to say to him in the morning, because we didn’t keep secrets from each other. I thought.

(unless you’re the kinda person that enjoys killing two birds with one stone)

Joshua: i got like pages left in dis book man

Conrad: aint too many things better than a good book

Joshua: well, i mean, yeah, theres a few
Joshua: lets be honest

Conrad: no there isnt man
Conrad: i challenge you to name one

Joshua: maybe if your reading while getting a blowjob but more often then not id just take the blowjob
Joshua: i mean yeah of course it would take a truly outstanding piece of literature to get me to not put the book down while receiving said blowjob
Joshua: but those come once in a life time i think

Conrad: bjs are so fuckin overrated man
Conrad: so tired of hearing about them all the time

Joshua: im more then mildly offended by that

Conrad: well ull just have to convince me otherwise……

Joshua: considering you’ve spoken quite highly of me in the past

Conrad: i could never have said that to ur face after all the effort you put into it
Conrad: sweatin bullets
Conrad: and that poor jaw

Joshua: i appreciate the concern
Joshua: but im a big boy
Joshua: i can take more then jetting shots of cum
Joshua: and i’d like you to kindly remember that in the future

Conrad: 45 minutes

Joshua: i was counting too!!!!!!!
Joshua: you motherfucker you!

Conrad: *wink*
Conrad: would  a girlfriend have a right to be jealous at our convos?
Conrad: cuz we get pretty graphic

Joshua: maybe by the brutal honesty
Joshua: something we’d be more then hesitant to show a woman

Conrad: uve never tried to use our back and forths as a form of foreplay?

Joshua: with a woman?

Conrad: hahahahahaha
Conrad: alright that cracked me

Joshua: hahahaha

Conrad: game over

 

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Originally uploaded by empty_netters

I’ve noticed that I’m getting a lot of hits from the search “Devin Setoguchi’s girlfriend”, which is a little odd because I don’t remember ever posting anything about who he’s dating. Because I don’t know…yet. I do know someone who can ask him directly though. So once I ever find out, I might post to satisfy your curiosity.

I can’t blame you all for wondering though.

Until then, just hope for a speedy recovery for him, Staubitz, and all the other injured Sharks.

So here I am, sitting in her room. We just dealt with a possible problem in the way that most young lovers do things – we dealt with the possible consequences. Do I regret doing that? Not in the least. Do I wish I had not given her a reason to take that pill? Yes. God, yes. I feel a little using, me getting the benefits and her taking the brunt of the risk. Sure, I am assuming some responsibility if things don’t go according to plan b, but really, I wish I hadn’t given us reason to have to deal with consequences. I’m not going to again. It’s not that hard not to, which is another reason why I feel a little betraying. I hope she never finds this, because in truth, I hope never to give her reason to second-guess anything I do, and definitely anything we do together. I want to be a strong point in her life, someone that she can rely on in times of trouble, someone who takes excellent care of her, and is her keeper, her husband. Sometimes though, I feel like I’m doing a shitty job of it. Onus # infinity.