Brown Egg, Green Egg.

The first two!  Woo Hoo!  Whitney called me today while I was at work and told me that something was wrong.  She said that the chickens had been making the most horrendous sounds for the better part of the morning (Oh man, I should have recorded Whitney’s impersonation when she reenacted the sounds later on that night).  At my prompting she got closer to investigate and she exclaimed, “I think they’re laying EGGS!!!  I see something tan where Britany is sitting!”  A huge grin came across my face and I started beaming like a proud chicken-father.  I’m such a jackass!  Ha!

And so it was so.  But the chickens, in their haste to become productive members of the family could not wait any longer for my procrastinating ass.  They have no nesting box to lay in, (I haven’t found the time to build one) so they laid in the next best thing…  The compost pile.  Yup.  The compost pile.  Dug themselves a nice little depository and went to work…  Right into the decomposing vegetable scraps, trimmings and leaves.  Eggs a la compost.  Sounds appetizing huh?

Well none the less we have eggage!  First task this weekend is to complete some minor modifications to the chicken coop and build said nesting box.  The Ameraucuana, Fifi, laid the green one and Britany laid the brown one.  They are both not “usual” size eggs and unfortunately you can’t see the difference as well through pictures.  Fifi’s egg is a beautiful mossy green and in all shapes and appearances looks pretty normal.  Just smaller than a “normal” large chicken egg.  Britany’s on the other hand is the prerequisite Rhodie brown, but in shape it is extremely skinny and long and not really egg-shaped at all but rather quite oblong (I’m telling you, these pictures just don’t capture it!).  Size comparison below to a normal chicken egg (Much wider and taller than the homegrown).

White egg, green egg, brown egg.  Now the hard decision of what to make with the first eggs?

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the aesthetics of skin flaked on the kitchen floor
is so 1961, when
it was acceptable to have
dandruff because proctor & gamble hadn’t
yet told you that you were repulsive and
flax seed oil
wasn’t yet cool.
the truth is, apple cider vinegar is cheaper
and better, and
if you’re not getting laid
it’s not your skin’s fault, it’s yours.

if you suffer from poor self-esteem, try
our new shampoo.  i personally
guarantee more sex or your money
back. 
call now and you’ll receive a
free head and shoulders condom with your purchase.
head and shoulders is the anti-dandruff shampoo
your penis can trust.

and so you try it but the cnoodm is
rbiebd in all the wnrog pcelas and

has a hloe in the tip taht
you ddin’t ntcioe
utinl it was too ltae and

yuor soon-to-be chlid is
gnoig to hvae the wosrt
darundff
ever.

Hundreds of people flock to jobs centers to find a job.

The Ministry of Labor, Invalids, and Social Affairs has informed Prime Minister Nguyen Tan Dung that tens of thousands of people lost their jobs last year found jobs in the third  quarter, only 11,200 lost-job people remain unemployed, 68 percent down since the end of June.

As the economy climbed out of the global financial crisis, thousands of unemployed workers found jobs in the third quarter, it said, adding the demand for workers has also risen.

Binh Duong Province needed around 20,000 workers, Long An 8,700, Vinh Long 7,000, and Ca Mau more than 3,000, it said.

In related news, a conference on measures to build capacity among ethnic minority officials in the Central Highlands region was held in Kontum town on November 10.

Ethnic officials make up more than 30 percent of all public officials in the highlands provinces.

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Can’t be bothered to work, was listening to the radio. This was on:

I had never seen the video. Had a few chuckles.

How often do you get laid?

Try to get Jake laid…that is the mission.

Unfortunately, romp.com no longer exists…’twas a sad day for fans of the Booty Call game series.

Thanks to the invention of the internet (kudos Al Gore) – you can still play on an Australian version of the Romp site.
Click here to see all of the episodes.

(Find this and other great writers at memoirbloggers.wordpress.com)

I would be fired the next day, but the night before I went out with Gino. I never really had any super Italian friends growing up. One of the more overlooked differences between Boston and New York is their flavor of Catholic. In my phone I had him listed as Ginoooooooo. Gino was an actor with a manic vibe and I’m not sure if we ever had a real conversation, but he was funny.

It was my first Halloween weekend and the real happening in NY is right after the parade in the Village. I followed my still co-workers down into Alphabet City, to a charming little dump called Doc Holladay’s named after my second favorite Val Kilmer role. It was the kind of bar where you spend hours behind a cheap beer excavating 70’s graffiti through the layers of wall grime with your fingernail. There was a thrill of possibly digging up a place where the Ramones had once pissed on a unsuspecting fan.

The costume contest had begun a touch before we arrived and sans costumes we could just sit back with a tub of Pabst and take in the seedy faire. It seemed like an easy formula. Round by round, the intoxicated contestants would stand on the bar so that the intoxicated crowd could cheer on the woman with the least amount of clothes. The frontrunner was a girl who had apparently tailor-made her outfit for just such a contest. She wore a cardboard box extending neck to knees, painted in black and bedazzled. On the front, she had cut herself some swinging door and wrote, in what I assumed was red lipstick, the words, PEEP SHOW 25¢. And just as promised when some forth coming patron would chuck a quarter up at her, she opened the doors revealin just the skin she was in.

It was going to be a landslide.

Her only competition was a girl in what could only be described in the Village as a delicious catsuit, showing off every curve and fold her body provided. Even the whiskers seemed like a detail I would be embarrassed to buy.
The conversation was again not premium but I enjoyed new friendships. Trying to pick out the ones I could hang out with in the future over those who I would just merely be friendly with at work. I really felt like I was settling to New York. Two months in and I was beginning to make friends and I had found a restaurant I could see myself at until I didn’t have to. It was Goodfellas kinda joint and the owner, a scion of another more established Italian icon, loved to keep me late drinking with him at the bar until his wife called. He loved me. He wanted to make t shirts with me out of these ironic lil drawing that I had made and once sold as postcards in Union Square for a buck a piece. He had plans for me. I felt like it was going to work out.

Around my 5th or 6th PBR, the semi finalists were announced and the Peep Girl, drunk with tangible confidence ascended the bar for what would merely be a victory lap. Her opponent, the cat, stood waiting and hissing and prowling the crowd intending to go down fighting. When Miss Peeps finally got her footing and the first quarter was cast, the unthinkable happened. She slipped. Fell straight off the bar into the bartender, the ice bin, a rail of cheap liqour and hopefully a latticed rubber and impossible unclean floor mat below. The crowd let out an audible gasp followed quickly by laughter and then cheer for the cat girl, left standing, who took the opportunity and egged the crowd to show her love for her balance and dexterity. Twenty minutes later, she would crowned with what ever one wins in a bar choking with cigarette smoke and tables piled with Spartan beer cans shrines.

I would call in to find out my schedule the next day, only to discover I had none. My eyes teared with shock.

Published October 2009 by Seal Press

Canadian sex educator Shannon T. Boodram thought it was about time that someone let young people speak for themselves and tell the truth about their sexual experiences. In Laid: Young People’s Experiences with Sex in an Easy-Access Culture, she presents a collection of essays, poems, stories, and personal writings about sex by young adults, for young adults. Acknowledging that “there is no one-size-fits-all format,” Boodram introduces Laid by speaking directly to her readers—a practice she repeats throughout the text—and letting them know that her goal is “to arm you with the information, hindsight, and confident to pursue an amazing sex life.”

Now that’s a goal I can get on board with!

Boodram presents Laid in five sections designed to represent common young adult experiences with sexuality: “Hookups That Fell Down” (that one’s self-explanatory), “And Then I Saw Stars” (stories of positive sexual experiences), “Haven’t Been Quite Right Since That Night” (physical and emotional consequences of sexual behavior), “When No! Loses All Meaning” (rape), and “Save Your Cherry…Or Banana (about young adults who practice abstinence).  Each chapter ends with a Q & A section, with answers provided by the contributors, and a “checkpoint” that serves as a mini-quiz and supports the book’s goal of providing sex-positive education for young people.

If you’ve been reading The Book Lady’s Blog for a while, you’ve probably seen me mention my previous life as a clinical psychology graduate student and sex researcher. I believe in talking about sex and educating young people. I believe in empowering people with information and supporting individuals’ right to make their own decisions about what constitutes appropriate sexual behavior. I believe that the best sex education is the kind that does not imply any value judgments but instead encourages people to combine their personal values with medically accurate information and go from there.

This book has many strengths, but I also saw several weaknesses. I’ve read a lot of books like this, so while I wouldn’t claim to be an expert, I certainly have high expectations and a good idea of what it takes to create solid sex ed materials for teens.

The title of the first section, “Hookups That Fell Down,” kind of says it all. As implied in the title, the pieces are wholly negative and support Boodram’s opening statement that “hooking up is nothing more than settling; it is the microwavable burrito of sex.” Now, I happen to agree with that idea, but those are my personal values, and I don’t think values really belong in what is supposed to be an educational book. Surely, there are some young people who enjoy hooking up occasionally and have had positive experiences with it, and I would have liked to see this section include some pieces by those young people. (Of course, it’s possible that all of the submitters who wrote about hook-ups wrote about negative ones, but still.)

It also irked me that so few of the pieces in this section (and in the book in general) were written by men, and the ones that were written by men all focused on the male writer lamenting his role in contributing to the tarnishing of a woman’s “purity.” One of them actually writes about his regret “for meddling with her wholesome purity,” and that was just too much for me, as was one writer’s meditation on the idea that she would someday be giving her husband “all of my heart but a used body.”  I know that many people buy into these ideas, but I find them contradictory to the book’s stated goal of being sex-positive.

I do, however, love that Boodram included pieces in which young people discuss the consequences of their hook-ups because really, teenagers have a hard time thinking about consequences, especially in the heat of the moment, and these stories provide excellent “been there, done that” examples.

The section on positive sexual experiences, entitled “And Then I Saw Stars,” really took me back to the days of raging hormones and throbbing, well, you know. These essays and poems show young people discovering that sex can be a great and wonderful thing, and they delicately explore issues of sexual identity, coming out, and the confusion between love and lust, and those are all great strengths. But there are a few weaknesses….namely, the fact that many of the pieces read like amateur romance novels and actually include the word “johnson” as a euphemism for penis. For real?

Boodram also inserts her personal values into the introduction of this section by reminding readers that “positive sexual experiences are created only through mutual admiration,” and again, I generally agree with the statement (and it’s certainly an author’s prerogative to include something like that), but why the always? Additionally, a few of the pieces in this section seemed like they would have fit more appropriately into the chapter on hookups (like the piece where a guy meets a hot girl on a cruise ship and they get it on), and doesn’t that contradict the previously-stated idea that hookups are generally not positive experiences?

The strengths of this second chapter outweighed the weaknesses for me, but I would have liked to see more editing and less editorializing.

The third chapter, “Haven’t Been Quite Right Since That Night,” which explores the physical and emotional consequences of sex (all of which, in these pieces, happen to be negative) is incredibly candid and actually quite terrifying, though I don’t think that was Boodram’s intent. It covers all the bases—unplanned pregnancy, abortion, STIs—but has very few submissions from men, which just seems to (unintentionally) capitulate to the idea that women are somehow entirely responsible for safe sex practices. However, it also has a very useful glossary of common STIs and sexual illnesses and a reminder (in the form of a girl who gets pregnant her very first time) that YOU HAVE TO USE A CONDOM EVERY TIME!

The chapter on rape, entitled “When No! Loses All Meaning,” is frighteningly realistic, and the writers who submitted pieces demonstrate great strength in telling their stories. The selections in this chapter are very affecting, and they succeed in avoding the all-too-common tendency to blame the victim. This chapter is a must-read for anyone who has experience rape or sexual abuse and anyone who works with survivors. It concludes with a fantastic piece by a young woman who chose to fight back against her attacker, stating “He looked angry but so was I. It was at that time I decided it was either him or me,” and though it was difficult to read, this chapter was very worthwhile.

The final section of the book, given the obnoxiously adolescent title “Save Your Cherry…Or Banana,” presents young people’s discussions of their reasons for practicing abstinence. If you’ve read this review, then you know I’m not a fan of the abstinence-only movement, but I’m happy to say that this chapter did not bother me nearly as much as I expected it to.  One young writer muses that “sex gets its value from true love, not the opposite,” and another wins the award for best line with “It’s not my responsibility to make sure that a guy’s penis has a great day.” Sure, some of these pieces are a bit saccharine and sentimental, and I wished that Boodram had opened the book with this chapter and then included a chapter with young people discussing why they chose not to abstain, but overall, it wasn’t bad.

So, the bottom line on Laid?  The pieces are candid and realistic, but the book feels unbalanced and skewed toward negative stories. Despite the weaknesses, Laid will be a solid resource for young people who want to hear about their peers’ experiences, and it is an excellent conversation starter, but it should not be used as a primary source of sex education material or viewed as a representative sample. Teen readers will probably relate to the writers’ voices and the nature of their stories better than I did, though I do think the pieces should have been edited more closely. Overall, this one is a 3.5 out of 5.

Full disclosure: I received a review copy of this book from the publisher.

The government is laying out its vision for the future of English universities, stressing the "customer experience" of students and ties with business…. From BBC News. Full story

This site may contain information about: homeschooling. For a different topic see here. The blog is also related to: seminars.

SAY WORD ?!??!!

Yo, So this was my first video interview, was most definitely fun to shoot. Shannon Boodram is a super duper cool gyal so I was thankful for the experience. I definitely can’t ignore how goofy I look but it’s all good. You learn from experiences. This was also my first time editing with iMovie application, it was cool, definitely more easier and basic than Final Cut, I guess that I am living the iLife

Major thanks to Ashley McFarlane for shooting it..

LAID: Young People’s Experiences with Sex in an Easy-Access Culture

For More Information about Shannon Boodram’s “LAID” , please go to laidthebook.com

]]> http://thinningtheherd.wordpress.com/2009/10/28/23-wtf-halloween-costumes/ Wed, 28 Oct 2009 21:06:41 +0000 thinningtheherd http://thinningtheherd.wordpress.com/2009/10/28/23-wtf-halloween-costumes/

My spidey nutsack is tingling!

Species Name:  Areyouretardicus Dumbfuckius

Halloween, a time for sluts to embrace their whoredom and stupid frat boys to expect to get laid dressed as a “Free Mammogram booth.”  Real fucking clever asshole.  I’m sure no women think you’re going to try and rape them with a costume like that.  Halloween is filled with people who come up with really creative costumes that impress the shit out of you, but it’s also a time when you see costumes and all you can think is, “what the fuck was that person thinking walking out of the house like that?”  You know you’ve been at a Halloween party or two when the above guy shows up and you proceed to find someone dressed as Wolverine so you can have them gouge your eyes out with their adamantium claws.

To these people say I say, WHHHHHYYYYYY?!?!?!?!?!  You had the chance to wow everyone with a creative getup for Halloween but instead you chose to drive people to eat the dry ice out of the punch bowl.  These people not only shouldn’t be able to dress up for Halloween but also shouldn’t be allowed to be functioning members of society if they think these costumes are “cool.”  To make everyone’s life more aestically pleasing on Halloween, let’s imagine that the people in the following costumes didn’t exist to burn their image into your retina’s for all eternity.

In a world where these creepy fucks didn’t exist to leave innocent trick or treating children scarred for life:

• Dude!  Seriously?!  Nobody wants to see your placenta covered head emerging from any vagina, real or fake.  This dipshit should’ve been aborted.

• Aww…little Adolf…adorable!  Now that he’s finished exterminating that juice, he’s off to finish what he started with the Jews.  Mom, Dad, are you fucking retarded or just Klan members?  Or both?  Kid, I’m sorry but you’d be better off as an orphan than with the fucktards that call themselves your parents.

• Okay, just because you thought you were being clever embracing your fatness by dressing up as “Fat Girl,” that doesn’t change the fact that spandex was never intended to grace your flesh.  The material is only so strong!

• Hahaha, oh terrorism, why do you make such a great Halloween costume idea?  You don’t, and if you ask me, that little Timothy McVeigh looks way too happy to be dressed as a suicide bomber.  Someone call the Department of Homeland Security, stat.

• Dressing in blackface is never okay, not even for your Mr. T costume.  It wasn’t okay when Al Jolson did it, and it still isn’t today.  Although I have to say, it is a pretty good blackfacing job.  But I still pity this fool when he gets lost on his way to his Halloween party and ends up in Harlem.  Uh-oh!

• Why does Venom look like he’s about to crap out the baby he ate for lunch?  Imagine a fight between Venom here and the above Spider Man, his mortal enemy.  Enjoy that image in your head.

• Not only is the idea of posing as someone who enjoys boffing a sheep now and then not okay, but fuck does that costume look impractical.  Waddling around everywhere with your pants around your ankles, no thanks.  Have another PBR redneck and someone call PETA.

• Guys, costumes that highlight how big your penis is only translates to others that you’re hung like an infant.  I’d almost feel bad for the model in this picture if he didn’t look like such a douchebag.

• Guys, costumes highlighting the female genitalia are the closest you are going to get to said gentitalia.  Oh, and the tampon was a nice touch, you stay classy San Diego…

• If you see this sick fuck somehow maneuver his way into your children’s trick-or-treat group, call the police.  There are so many wrong things in this picture, I don’t even know where to begin.

• Do you think this guy was racking his brain over what to be for Halloween, and eventually decided, “Yup, I’m going to cover myself in dicks.  West Hollywood here I come!”

• Avoiding the obvious here, I’m more interested in what good friend put in the time and effort to create this Ass-0-Lantern.  I do not envy you sir/madam.

I don’t know what it is about Halloween, but it seems like a signal for people to let their freak flags fly.  That’s not okay, put some goddamn clothes on you fucking creeps.  It would be nice to know you could venture out on Halloween without one of these crazy bastards popping out of the bushes.  Alas, I fear people will only continue to get more bold with their Halloween attire choices and we will be forced to withstand projectile vomiting.

But one has to have dreams right?

A welder works on a piece of farm equipment at the factory in Saskatoon. The company that makes Case and New Holland brands of machinery announced 300 layoffs Friday. (CBC)

CNH Global, a maker of farm equipment under the Case and New Holland brands, is chopping 300 jobs at its Saskatoon plant.

At full capacity, the factory employs more than 900 people.

The company confirmed in a release Friday that layoff notices would be issued. The last day on the job will be Nov. 23 and the layoffs are “indefinite.”

“Well, it’s a shock wave,” Murray Facca, an employee at the plant for 25 years, told CBC News, referring to the general slowdown that has hit the world economy.

Facca said workers were expecting some bad news. “It was just a matter of time, and we are starting to feel the effects now. So it’s reality setting in, basically.”

Facca said individual workers haven’t been told who will be affected. He said his seniority may help him.

The company, also known as Case New Holland, did not comment on the move beyond its news release, which cited “continuing weakness of the economy and a need to align production with demand.”

Saskatchewan’s overall job numbers have been relatively strong, compared with other provinces. The notable exceptions have been in the resource sector.

“Saskatchewan is very much an export-based economy,” Richard Gray, an economics professor at the University of Saskatchewan, told CBC News. “Even our manufacturing sector is very much export-based. When the markets are in trouble elsewhere, it comes home to roost here.”

CNH, majority-owned by the Fiat Group of Italy, has about 30,000 employees worldwide, with 40 factories in North America, Europe, Latin America and Asia.

In the most recent quarter, the company reported an operating profit of $72 million US, down 79 per cent from a year earlier as sales slumped 32 per cent to $2.96 billion.

Chinese ban on Canadian canola shocks industryWheelchair maker to build new plant in Lebanon

New image in the chilled out photography contest

Three week old Labrador pup on my daughter’s lap. Taken a few years ago with one of those wee cheap capsule shaped cameras hence the quality or lack …
Laid Back photography picture

On my way to work this morning I noticed an odd bumper sticker on the car idling in front of me at the red light.  It said “I better get laid soon or I’m going to hurt somebody” 

Well then.  I’m not one to cheat on my wife but if I can help avoid blood shed from lack of someone’s sexual needs being met I will do what I have to do.  Although I couldn’t see if it was a male or female in the driver’s seat I blew them kisses when they looked up.  Gender be damned.  Lives were on the line people.  Honking the horn is a great way to get someone’s attentions when your sending a little love their way. 

Now I know just air mailing a kiss doesn’t count as getting laid as their bumper put it but hopefully this act of lust will satisfy their urges enough for a little while so the don’t go postal.  Who know.  I might have just saved some innocent people.  No need to thank me.

And to let the possible future sex starved brawler in the Honda in front of me know there was still passion in our now ten second old romance I mouthed the words “I LOVE YOU” then licked my lips for an extra “MMMmmmmmm” factor.  Most people wouldn’t go that far.  I do……because I care.

Funny thing happened after that.  The light turned green and they gunned it.  Here I am being all provocative (and dare I say sexy) for a motorist at the end of their sex starved rope while they’re on the verge of being prone to a violent act and they just leave me.  Shows what I get for putting myself out there.

But I was smitten.  Never mind they tried to run from my sexual advances.  I persuaded them like Loony Toon’s Peppy LaPeu.  Out my rolled down window I proclaimed to joggers, bikers and people taking trash to the road side that  “I love the driver of the car in front of me and I want everyone to know!!.  We’re going to be together”

I think they might change that bumper sticker from “If I don’t get laid soon I’m going to hurt somebody” to “If I get laid by that guy behind me I might get hurt soon”

A Prom Night/Wedding To Remember

Sometimes bitchy women need to be taught a lesson, and sometimes that lesson could be an adventure.

When a guy takes a girl somewhere as his date, she should at least go through the motions accordingly. I’m not saying fuck, although I don’t see anything wrong with it, but in public she should be social, conversational and put on a good show.

I was hanging out with this chick Lindsay, you know nothing serious. We hung out a few times, hooked up, etc.

She was one of many. And then it came up in conversation that I was going to a friend’s wedding. It also turned out although she didn’t know the groom as well as I did, she also knew a lot of people in the wedding party.

What a small world.

So she basically invited herself to along as my date. Cool. Normally I like to roll to weddings solo for creeping purpose (I’m sure you’ve seen the Wedding Crashers), but she’s fun to hang with… so whatever.

Plus I like the challenge of having multiple creeps going at the same time… it makes for an action-packed roller coaster ride of an evening. And if it blows up, it makes for a better story.

See, I sacrifice to entertain you.

Lindsay and I had groped each other on club couches, and knibbled and grinded on the dance floor, but I had yet to take her to the bathroom stall.

So a wedding should be a layup.

We’re from Northeastern Pennsylvania — Clarks Summit for me and Wilkes Barre for her — and the festivities are in New York City at the Ritz Carlton Hotel.

It’s close to two and a half hours away, so I’m getting a room there with her.

So the stage is set for an evening of drunken hedonism, and there’s no need to hang with her too much now.

I wanna keep our experience fresh, and give the lady something to look forward to.

So I keep living life… spreading my skills through the mean streets of Scranton and Wilkes Barre, as well as throwing in the occasional road trip of creepin’.

Either way I’m gonna close Lindsay on wedding night. It’s only appropriate.

Of course, I’m excited. I do love this game, and I play it with a fiery enthusiasm.

THE WEDDING

Six weeks later the wedding comes around and we’re at the reception… it’s lavish, and luxurious. They’re serving surf and turf, the bride’s father is fucking chunked.

The groom done good.

Despite the extravagant accommodations, Lindsay is being a fucking bitch.

She’s sitting at the table, texting like crazy, being very rude. I quickly put it together she had recently acquired a boyfriend. Which is fine. I had no interest in anything but fucking her anyway, and of I course, I love being the other man.

So now this broad is not living up to her date commitment. It’s very rude not only to me, but to the happy couple chaining themselves to one another like slaves on a ship where some sort of manual labor is required.

I don’t know, the only manual labor I’ve ever done is eating out a fat girl. If you see how soft my hands are you’ll notice I’ve made conscious attempts to avoid real work.

As our lovely full course gourmet dinner spread rolls to a close, Lindsay tells me that she may just drive home early. I say okay and then proceed to ignore her as if she’s a leper, or a cling magnet.

Both are infectious and a true player must make attempts to avoid them.

Lindsay didn’t want to partake in the party, so I’m not gonna babysit her sulking ass… I hope the nasty puss on her face forms crow’s feet.

MY NEXT MARK

I hang out with my friends at the wedding, dance my ass off, and leave Lindsay in solitude to continue her endless stream of texting at the table.

She seems pissed, but at this point that’s what I want. So I bust a’ move with some girls at the wedding, even make out with a girl when we go out for a cigarette.

She was a fantastic kisser, excellent with the lower lip nibble, but she had to leave with her parents.

(Don’t worry, I ended up tapping that at a later date).

POST WEDDING PROM PARTY

Regardless, after the wedding myself, my friends at the wedding – many who are in the bridal party – are partying at the hotel. We’re shooting the shit, getting wasted, and partying like rockstars at the Ritz. It’s a good time.

I hadn’t seen Lindsay since, didn’t particularly care to unless she was planning on apologizing for her rudeness by dropping to her knees like a catcher firing to second, and I figured she jetted home like she said.

I end up spotting this group of hotties on the patio. They’re having beers and passing around a bottle of Vodka on this cool, and clear spring evening.

I feel I must say hello. It would be rude not to be sociable, and I wasn’t raised that way. So I walk to the patio, make an introduction, and endear myself to the crowd. Of course I’m doing well.

These girls are dressed to the nines, sporting fancy, stylish party dresses and gowns, like they were just at a ball.

I took an interest in a beautiful busty blonde bombshell in the group. She had a bimbo look… tanned, tall, and rolling with hair extensions. She had a massive rack, stood about 5-10, and was in good shape but definitely had some curves. She had an ass on her.

Of course, I planned on plowing her. It’s my nature.

ME: “So what brings you all to the Ritz Carlton tonight?”

BIMBO: “Well we got a room here to party. We just had our prom.”

This excites me.

ME: “Oh… that’s nice. It’s a milestone you know.”

(A milestone I’d love to be a part of.)

BIMBO: “Yeah.”

ME: “Was it fun?”

BIMBO: “Oh yeah, it was a blast!”

ME: “Time goes by so fast, doesn’t it. I mean could you believe you already had your senior prom?”

BIMBO: “Actually I’m a junior.”

This excites me even more.

ME: “Oh… I’m sorry.”

BIMBO: “Why do I look older?”

ME: “You’re just very mature for your age.”

BIMBO: “Cool. Yeah I’m taking my driver’s test next week.”

ME: “Wow. Cool. It took me four times to pass mine… parallel parking is a bitch.”

BIMBO: “When did you get your license?”

ME: “Umm… Nine years ago.”

BIMBO: “Really… so you’re….”

ME: “Twenty-five.”

Some would lie themselves down, but I think that’s stupid. Well if legalities, authorities and statutory charges surface then lie your ass off, but as for drunken hookups… high school chicks, girls in general, dig older guys.

That doesn’t mean you want to be “creepy old” like the girl’s parent’s age, but twenty five is still so young that it gives off a stigma of seductive maturity.

BIMBO: “Does it matter that I’m 16.”

ME: “I thought you were mature.”

(The Bimbo giggles)

ME: “Does it matter that I’m 25?”

As usual, I know the answer.

BIMBO: “It’s hot.”

ME: “So what, no prom date?”

BIMBO: “I just broke up with my boyfriend a few weeks ago, so I just went with my friend Justin.”

ME: “Oh cool.”

BIMBO: “Yeah it was fun.”

ME: “You know, though, there’s a certain way you’re supposed to close your prom night.”

BIMBO: “Yeah.”

ME: “I mean, it’s a big night.”

BIMBO: “Yeah it is.”

ME: “It’s tradition.”

BIMBO: “Do you have a room here?”

ME: “Woah, woah, woah… what makes you think I’m that kind of guy?”

BIMBO: “Sorry.”

ME: “About what? I am that kind of guy… Let’s go to my room.”

PROM NIGHT TRADITION

On the walk to my room I learned that my date was a cheerleader (no surprise there), and third in line for prom queen.

I was pumped. I mean I was ready to mount royalty. She saw something in me, a simple commoner and now my penis and face (she seemed clean enough) was going to be used as her throne.

We made our way down the hall, passionately making out, throwing each other against the wall. She was unbuttoning my shirt and unzipping my pants as I struggled for my key card, and we quietly crept in. I turned the light on, and we noticed something on the bed.

My date Lindsay appeared to be asleep. This could be problematic.

I turned the light off.

PROM ROYALTY: “Who is she?”

ME: “She went to the wedding with me, but it’s nothing… she has a boyfriend.”

PROM ROYALTY: “Why would you bring me back where she was sleeping?”

ME: “It’s my room, and she said she was going home.”

The prom royalty kissed me, and I opened the door to our spacious bathroom.

ME: “Come on.”

I pulled some towels off the counter, and laid them down on the floor. I structured them nicely. I have to say I did well at assembling a bed on a bathroom floor. It was like building a teepee or setting up camp. Although the first thing I did was pitch a tent.

It was on. The bathroom brought out the best in this broad.

The prom royal and I mauled each other on the floor, ripping each other’s clothes off, sweating like dirty zoo animals.

It was a lovely exchange that we shared.

As the aftermath left us sweaty and dirty, we simply cleaned each other up in the shower, where we fucked again.

It was a nice evening. After all the dancing, drinking and fucking – I mean it was prom night – we earned a good night’s rest.

So we walked over to the bed. Lindsay was spread out in the middle of the bed, taking up space. Even asleep she’s an inconsiderate bitch.

I slid her to the left, and took every pillow I could find and constructed a pillow wall in the middle of the bed.

My girl from the prom is giggling through all this. My kind of girl.

Prom royalty and I slept on the one side of the pillow-laden fortress, with Lindsay on the other.

Myself and the Prom Royalty passed right out. It was a well deserved rest.

GOOD MORNING

A few hours later, I felt my girl from the prom feeling me up. She was grabbing downstairs again, and I let her do her thing. She ended up blowing me, and I found myself firing my load into her mouth as the daylight seeped through the shades.

It’s hard to resist a blowjob… especially when you’re barely alive as it is.

As the Prom Royal is showcasing her skills — she was good for a youngin’ — Lindsay awoke… SCREAMING!

LINDSAY: “What are you doing!?”

ME: “What does it look like?”

Prom royalty raised her head.

PROM ROYALTY: “Hi.”

ME: “You could keep going honey.”

And she did.

LINDSAY: “I can’t believe you.”

ME: “What… I built a pillow wall.”

LINDSAY: “Fuck you!”

ME: “Don’t be so rude! We have a guest. – And I already got fucked. — Say hello to Courtney, she did it.”

My cock’s still in the Prom Royalty’s perty mouth.

Lindsay is silent.

ME: “You said you were leaving! — Frankly, I can’t believe you’re disrupting me and my friend here. We’re trying to have a moment. You’re being downright uncouth.”

LINDSAY: “I’m leaving! (She screamed as if it would disappoint me).”

ME: “Well that would be the respectful thing to do… we enjoy our space.”

Lindsay grabbed her shit, and stormed off.

(Joke’s on her though, she left her ITouch video Ipod which is now mine baby! I deleted all her shit to make room for my stuff. She’s called me a few times since, leaving me messages asking if I’d seen it. I didn’t respond. I love my new Ipod.)

So after Lindsay left, Prom Royalty continued the lip service.

ME: “I apologize for her rudeness.”

PROM ROYALTY: “That’s okay,” she exclaimed as she came up for air with a slurp and a wipe of the mouth.

ME: “Finish up dear.”

And Prom Royalty went back to work. I returned the favor, and thanked her for her goodwill.

Her situation was both well-kempt and tasty. Then again she was royalty.

That was a prom night, and a wedding the three of us will never forget.

And the moral of the story is, have no morals… but don’t ever let anybody stifle your adventure.

How badly do you want to get LAID?  We all do it, yes! SEX so why don’t we talk about it, better yet educate ourselves before engaging in it. Should have, would have, could have, but you didn’t. Well this new book LAID edited by Shannon Boodram is the ish! I must say. As you can see (that’s me in the pic) I have purchased the book and I find it to be very insightful. It expresses the raw, raunchy deal of teens/young adult’s sexual experiences.  It is very descriptive with light (I say light since the creative descriptives had me laughing at some points), but very serious undertones. I’ll let you be the judge. On the other hand, this weekend I will be digging deeper between the sheets of this book to find that G-spot.

Have you copped LAID as yet? Let me know how you like it so far.

 Enjoy your weekend!

A little video from us to you for your Thursday viewing pleasure!
Just as we’ve always suspected here at ManTown, they do like it in the Bum!

Hello all. You may be wondering what in the world this blog is about.

Well my husband and I plan around and actually make decisions based on what our bad luck could bring us. I will be sharing the story of my life. The bad luck I bring that my best friends calls “Good bad luck” myself I call it HELL! lol. No its actually not so bad anymore I have learned to expect the worste. And try to laugh at it all. I will update frequently about the present things going on in my life. I will also tell you past experiences such as how we bid on a HUD home and were jerked back and forth needing no money to thousands down, to not qualifying to getting the keys 6 long hard working stressful months later. How not only was I just 6 weeks pregnant and got KIDNEY STONES and noone would help me as I had no insurance but that day was also my 25th birthday! My best friend ran me over with yes her car when I was 17. The completely whacked couple of months prior to my wedding that had my mom leaving my dad, husband got laid off, bridesmaid got pregnant, had every family member with their own input. Oh and I am the only person I know that gets kidney stones when I am pregnant and they can’t do anything about them, then I get them again and they want me admitted into the hospital to take care of them, of course it was the day before my wedding and I would not allow them to admit me. So I busted out of the hospital and got pulled over on my way to the wedding. lol. I know my like is one big mess. Stay tuned to my wonderful train wreck of a life!

Did the wedding go on?

Did I get a Ticket!

Did the pregnancy go ok?

 Stay tuned to find out.

I was used by Damaged Goods, but I got revenge.

It started when the stood up asked if I’d pay her tab.

As rude as it was, things were looking good as far as getting laid.

So I agreed. How much could it be at Sherlock’s bar in Erie? She was little, she wasn’t that drunk, and they didn’t serve food.

Since the Cougar’s tab was already on her debit card, the magnificent genius of a bartender couldn’t figure out how to switch it over. Lucky break I thought. I just beat $15.50.

And then she asked me if I would give her the cash to put in her account so she wouldn’t be over-drawn. She was going far with this whole acting-like-her-date thing. And my date was a high-maintenance bitch.

I can’t believe it, but I humbly obliged, and handed her a twenty. The only thing that made me feel good about this transaction was that I felt like I was hiring a prostitute.

Getting her wet

We went back to my friend Brian’s house, sipped some Asti Nando, and rocked out to The Doors. We strolled on the porch for a cigarette, and between puffs of menthol smoke and swigs of champagne I grasped her tiny hips, and gazed into her eyes as I sat in a chair and pulled her on top of me. I nibbled her neck and ears, and kissed her.

“It’s been so long, I don’t know how to makeout anymore,” she said. “Was that okay?”

“You’re a great kisser,” I replied.

“Well you kiss me,” she said.

“Whatever you say,” I answered.

I kissed her again, slowly and softly, then pulled out my secret weapon: the lower lip nibble.

COUGAR: “If you keep doing that I’m gonna want to have sex with you.”

ME: “As your date, I’m ready to go all the way.”

COUGAR: “Well I don’t do that on the first date.”

ME: “Are you wet?”

COUGAR: “I might be… Check and see.”

I caressed her crotch to notice her transparent nylons (she wasn’t wearing any underwear) were dripping with secretions.

“Could we go back inside,” she asked repeatedly, but continued the passion.

She wanted to avoid having sex, but I could tell she was breaking. It was time to close.

As she finally dragged me back in the house, I caressed her body and made my move.

“Want me to go down on you?” I whispered to her.
COUGAR: “I’m not prepared for that. I smell like a bar.”

ME: “I like that.”

COUGAR: “Do you have a towel or something I could use to clean up?”

ME: “We’ll find you something.”

Cunnilingus: Part One

We headed up to Brian’s un-made up guest bedroom, she took all her clothes off, and I proceeded to establish foreplay, and ultimately go downstairs . It was evident by the way she screamed and contorted her body across the bare mattress that she enjoyed the oral accommodations I provided.

I have not met a woman who could resist my skills in the oral realm. Not to brag, but I eat box like a lesbian pornstar.

So provided a girl is well-kempt, I often like to initiate the french kiss of the crotch quickly because the benefits pay off in the end. As one of my earliest mentors always said, “eat em’ for twenty, then you could fuck em’ for two… That’s how you get the stud status.”

Plus I liked doing it. Her pussy was really nice. It was clean and smooth, soft and tight, with a sweet flavor. There wasn’t a hair to be found anywhere near it. As I finished, she snuggled up in the lone sheet.

ME: “Are you gonna return the favor?”

COUGAR: “I can’t believe you’d have to ask me.”

ME: “Well, you know.”

COUGAR: “Don’t worry I will, just let me sleep for a little bit.”

ME: “OK.”

Revenge

I had a deadline, so once she passed out around 4 a.m. I went downstairs — in the townhouse — to finish a column (the one you read last week – HYPE WHORE). After I’d emailed it to my editor I noticed the Cougar’s purse on the coffee table.

I opened it up, dug through some makeup, gum, and other various crap and found my twenty dollar bill, which I took back. Then I even grabbed a few stray ones, since I’d remembered she made me tip the coat check guy.

I was feeling good. Nobody was using me. I made sure her purse was in the order she left it, put it back, and crawled into bed next to the Cougar.

Human Vibrator

I started with the spoon, and lightly ran my hands up and down her body, gradually getting more and more intimate. Wet again. I was on my way to get what I had coming to me.

COUGAR: “Blindfold me.”

ME: “Really… OK.”

COUGAR: “Tie me to the bed.”

ME: “Anything for you, my love.”

Brian had recently moved in, and hadn’t done much unpacking so I grabbed pillow cases to fasten her arms to the headboard, and cover her eyes.

COUGAR: “Let me be your slave.”

ME: “What does that mean?”

COUGAR: “It means whatever you want.”

I pulled down my pants, crept up near her face, and pressed my hard cock against her lips.

COUGAR: “Get that away from my mouth.”

ME: “I thought you were my slave.”

COUGAR: “I want you to gag me, and go down on me.”

ME: “OK.”

Fuck. I thought I was supposed to be in control of this S and M session. She was calling all the shots.

I grabbed the tyrant’s juicy nylons, stuffed them into a ball, and shoved them in her mouth.

“Uggh,” she grimaced in disgust.

Somehow, I once again ended up eating pussy. This time, it was a marathon that went on for hours – orgasm, after orgasm, after orgasm.

When it comes to cunnilingus most girls I’ve known wanted me to stop after getting them off, but this bitch wanted to spray me again and again. She must’ve been very well hydrated.

I swirled my tongue around, bit the clit, fired my tongue up inside her, and repeated again and again, and again. I pulled it wide open and licked until I was out of saliva.

She had cum for what felt like the millionth time, lost her gag, and broken free of the loosely fastened pillow cases. I raised my head for air, hoping she’d finally suck my dick.

COUGAR: “Do you wanna get me off one more time?”

ME: “… Uggh… I guess.”

I thought I was her date, I thought we were equal partners, but she was using me like a human-vibrator with a never-ending charge.

As the sun shined in through the opened blinds, she began to pleasure herself a little bit. Nice.  I just sat back and watched as she manipulated her clit. My neck was sore and I needed oxygen. Plus it was sexy. She had a request.

COUGAR: “It would be hot if someone else was watching, like you’re friend was in here.”

ME: “Gimme a second.”

I walked out of the room, and sent Brian a summons.

Using a Wingman

“Brian could you come in here a second?” I yelled to him.

BRIAN: “What’s up?”

ME: “Just come.”

BRIAN: “Is everything ok?”

ME: “You need to come in here.”

BRIAN: “What happened?”

ME: “Just… I think you’re gonna wanna come in here!”

Finally Brian walked in, as the Cougar lay on the bed naked, using a sheet only for warmth. Her legs were spread eagle, as she held court with Brian and me.

“You get me off,” she looked to Brian. “You  watch,” she looked at me.

Brian apprehensively began to finger her, and he and I locked eyes with each other in utter amazement. Was this actually happening?

COUGAR: “Stop looking at each other. It’s gay.”

ME: “Okay.”

I burst out laughing.

COUGAR: “Stop laughing.”

ME: “It’s funny.”

“You’re like doing standup,” Brian told her.

I held back my laughter, while Brian continued. I lightly giggled again.

COUGAR: “I imagined this being a lot hotter.”

ME: “What?”

COUGAR: “Just get outta here so I could get off.”

ME: “Fine.”

I walked out of the room, downstairs into the kitchen, and grabbed my blackberry.

I stood over Brian’s shoulder holding my curve as I pretended to check email, send a text, or update my twitter, while in actuality I was capturing the sight of some morning muff diving.

Brian’s cargo shorts crept down exposing a classic repair-man’s crack as he diddled the cougar’s vagina in a medium-paced circular manner. The picture was amazing, and she had no idea.

I walked out of the room then came back in to get the reverse angle, with Brian’s eyes looking up at me as his face was at the center of the extended wishbone. The footage looked like she was giving birth to a baby with a very big head.

After Brian concluded his business, we realized no favors were being returned. What a selfish bitch! We were used!

On Trial

She sat on the couch naked, opened her purse, and sifted through.

“That twenty you gave me is missing,” she said. “Did you take it?”

How dare she accuse me?

ME: “No… I didn’t take it!”

COUGAR: “Don’t yell at me.”

ME: “I’m sorry, when you’re accusing me of stealing from you after I get you off fifteen times, I get a little fucken’ defensive!”

COUGAR: “Well where could it be? It was in here!”

ME: “You were drunk. It could be anywhere. It probably fell out.”

COUGAR: “I wasn’t that drunk. There’s no way I would’ve lost it.”

ME: “Sorry. I don’t know.”

COUGAR: “Will you give me another twenty?”

ME: “No.”

COUGAR: “Well my account’s gonna be overdrawn,” (she whined).

ME: “You charged your tab last night, right?”

COUGAR: “Yeah.”

ME: “It’ll take a few days to go through.”

COUGAR: “I need that twenty so I could pay my bills.”

ME: “Sorry.”

So we dropped her off at her car (we had driven home from the bar and she left her car at the club). By the way, she had a 2008 Mercedes C280 so I wasn’t too empathetic of her financial situation.

COUGAR: “Oh my God. I have a ten-dollar ticket. Last night was so expensive! Will you pay this?”

ME: “No, bye.”

I was done with the ungrateful bitch — I mean I enjoy providing oral, but who the fuck doesn’t return the favor? No class. So that was it.

We ended up finding her imitation-pearl earrings next to the bed, which I pocketed as a souvenir.

The next day Brian, who manages a chain restaurant in Erie, was visited by The Cougar at work. Stupidly, he had let her know his place of business, and his name.

COUGAR: “I left my pearl earrings. Could you find them and get them back to me?”

BRIAN: “I haven’t seen them.”

COUGAR: “Well could you look again, and get them back to me.”

BRIAN: “If I find them, I’ll give you a call.”

COUGAR: “Okay… And look again for that twenty dollars.”

Yeah, Brian never looked. I use the earrings to treasure the memory of the stood up.

In the end, since I stole her money, I was the whore and she was the john. It made me feel better.

If you haven’t already, read part one of this story at www.theweekender.com … Just click on bonus, then click WINGMAN CHRONICLES.

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