Follow Up

I want to thank everyone for your kind words, both in response to the initial post and via email. It really means a lot to me and I appreciate you all. I’ll write as I have time, and I really want to tell you about my sister, but that’s going to be later on.

The hard part is being at work. Fortunately I’m only going to be here a few hours this morning, taking care of the normal Monday things, then I’m leaving for the rest of the week. Which, by the way, even though the bereavement leave is there for exactly this reason I hate taking it. I feel like I’m using a tragedy to get some “free” time off.

But it’s hard at work because I really don’t want to tell people here about it. It’s not entirely a privacy thing, though that is a part of it; it’s mostly that I just don’t want to be that guy: “How was my holiday? MY SISTER DIED!” It’s bad enough writing about it here, like I’m whoring for attention, but writing is how I cope so y’all just have to deal with it. But I don’t want to be that guy at work, too. Nobody wants to have their good feelings from a holiday week pissed on by hearing about someone else’s tragedy. (Just to be clear, though, I don't feel that way about anyone else who does these things.)

But around here, a typical Monday is everyone asking “how was your weekend?” And the acceptable response is “fine” or “pretty good” followed by “and how was yours?” And you expect the same courtesy back. Oh, you can elaborate on having gone skiing or out of town or camping or whatever, but you don’t talk about the bad things. And that goes doubly so after a long break away; you ask out of courtesy and you answer blandly out of that same courtesy.

But of course I had to tell the manager in charge (my boss is out of the country and won’t be at work until Thursday) so I could take the bereavement leave. So when people ask how my holiday was, I can politely say “it was fine,” but if they find out through the grapevine what happened that will seem like a really inappropriate response. But I damned sure don’t want to go into “well, it turned out bad because…” with each of them. Thankfully almost half of us are out for vacation, so it’s not as bad as it could be on a typical Monday.

I passed the site of her wreck this morning, and will again on my way home, and it was harder than I thought it would be. That’ll pass with time, and maybe pretty quickly, but this morning was rough.

Dark Days

I was in the middle of writing my holiday wrap-up Friday afternoon, thinking I had another hour before the wife got of work. They didn't have a lot going on there, though, so she wound up coming home early, interrupting me. I figured I'd finish the post up Saturday or Sunday (this) morning and didn't think too much about it.

(For the record, it we had a good Christmas though I was disappointed that we didn't get a chance to catch up with L and her family that day.)

Unfortunately, things have gone all to hell since then. Friday night, my oldest sister (the niece's mother) was killed in a car wreck. We don't know all the details, but she was on her way home from work and had just gotten on the interstate when her car hit the guardrail, flipped over through the median, and crossed into on-coming traffic. Her car was struck by another car, and that driver got out and attempted to warn off a truck that was coming towards them, but that truck struck her car as well. The coroner thinks that she probably died on the initial impact of the car flipping, even before the first car struck her, when her head hit the roof (she wasn't wearing a seat belt.)

My mother is in her mid 70s and is beside herself; you aren't supposed to bury your children. The niece (the one who's staying with us) is handling things pretty well for a 22 year-old who's never had to deal with a close family member's death, but it's starting to wear on her. Both of her older brothers are in jail (long stories short, they were both stupid and got caught, and are paying for it) and her younger sister (half-sister, really) is just 13 and is an emotional wreck.

My sister's current husband (the younger niece's father) is a good man for the most part, but not particularly bright under the best of circumstances, and he doesn't know what to do at this point. He hasn't had a steady job in years, and they really don't have much more than the trailer they live in. My parents are going to pay for the funeral, and the wife and I will do everything we can to help, though it isn't going to be much.

L is sad for us and our loss, of course. It's also a loss for her because she's her sister too, though they never met face-to-face. I'd always held out hope that the older sister would have a change of heart and agree to meet L; unfortunately that can't happen now. The middle sister is going to come into town for the service, of course, and I really want to try to get her to meet L. I doubt it will happen, though. The middle sister was always non-receptive to the whole idea of L being any relation to us, and at this point I don't know if L would even want to meet her. She's understandably angry with both of them for rejecting her for no reason other than circumstances she had no control over. But we'll see.

I'll write more about my older sister later, when I have more time.

Weekend Update

Happy Monday, everyone! Only two more days until Christmas; I hope you’re all finished with whatever shopping you have to do.

This weekend was another quiet one for the most part. The wife was off Friday and got her shopping done, plus some other errands she needed to do. I honestly can’t remember if we went out Friday evening for anything, but if we did it was just to pick some things up or something.

Saturday we went to see my parents, as we usually do. My mother is 74 and starting to show signs of memory loss and other confusion. She remembers things once she’s reminded, but will ask the same questions three or four times in the course of a visit. She also has a curvature of her spine that is causing her a lot of back pain, but her doctors have told her that at her age any surgery to correct the issue would be more damaging than the curvature itself. She has quite a bit of pain in her back and hip because of it, and it’s making her even more grumpy than usual.

L came into town to see her friend and the wife and I met the two of them for lunch. This is the guy who’s had a crush on her since they were in school together, and she finally slept with him two summers ago when she was on the outs with both B and S. She’d told me she never felt anything for K but she did fuck him just to see if there was something other than friendship there. She said there wasn’t, and it felt weird afterwards, so she told K that couldn’t happen again.

I know how L is with her “that’ll never happen again” resolve, so I do kind of wonder if they had sex Saturday. She went to his house first before meeting us, then after lunch took him back home (she drove her car) before heading back out of town. On the front end, they would have had about an hour from the time she got there to when they would have left the house to meet us. On the back end, if she took him straight home, they would have had about 30 minutes. In both cases plenty of time for a quick fuck, but unless she went there with the intention of fucking K, I don’t think L would have changed her mind in that short of a time.

I was tempted to ask her about it, but decided not to. Despite the detailed analysis above, I don’t really care if she did or not; it’s more out of curiosity than jealousy that I want to know. I keep getting mixed signals from her as to whether or not there’s any chance of further shenanigans between us, but that would be true whether she did or didn’t fuck K.

When the wife and I got home from lunch, I smoked a cigar (it was cloudy but the temperatures got into the low 70s) while she ran out to the store again. After, we took a quick, playful shower together, then got in bed for further fun. I’d been pretty horny Saturday morning and rubbed one out before she woke up, but I was raring to go again. She wouldn’t let me go down on her because of a cut on my lip that is still healing, but she gave me a pretty good blowjob before I entered her for some good fucking.

One thing I like to do while I’m in her (or any woman, for that matter) is play with her clit. But the wife doesn’t like that for whatever reason, so after a few sneaky tweaks she told me to get her toy. She doesn’t mind using her vibrator on her clit while I’m fucking her, but she doesn’t want my finger on her. Go figure!

I reached for the vibrator, but didn’t know if it was plugged in or not because we’d taken it with us to the beach a few weeks earlier and hadn’t used it since. I saw it in it’s normal place, though, and as I was getting it the wife said she’d plugged it in the day before (while she was off work.) I jokingly asked if she’d used it, knowing that she doesn’t play with herself other than as part of our sex. This isn’t me being in denial by any means, it’s just recognizing that her need for sexual release is much lower than for most people. She likes when we have sex, and will get her own orgasm if it happens, but she just doesn’t miss it if she doesn’t.

However, even the wife has her limits, and as I said we hadn’t had any use for her vibrator in the three previous weeks. We’d only had sex twice, and both times she said she didn’t need anything after I came. So when I asked, expecting her normal answer of a derisive “no”, I was pleasantly surprised when she said “Yes” instead. She blushed, and was embarrassed to admit it, but I told her she had nothing to be embarrassed by, and I thought it was hot. I was able to tease out a few details, but she didn’t want to talk about it. Still, just knowing that even she can have the urge, and that she’d played with herself without me being there got me even harder and soon I had a pretty powerful orgasm of my own. We polished her off with the same toy (I made her show me how she’d done it the day before) then took a quick power nap.

We met up with another friend for dinner at a local establishment later in the evening, and I had a few beers with her. We exchanged bottles of wine for Christmas gifts and when we got home the wife and I had a few drinks before heading to bed.

I did some last minute Christmas shopping for the wife Sunday morning and got back home in time to watch the Cowboys almost lose to the Redskins. They pulled it out at the last minute, though, setting up another do-or-die game next week. For the third year in a row, the Cowboys will be playing a division opponent to determine who goes to the playoffs, this year the Philadelphia Eagles. I have no doubt that this will be the third year in a row that the Cowboys lose that game, even though they’ll be at home, and with the way the Eagles are playing lately I don’t think it will even be close. Dallas’ defense is just atrocious, and injuries or not I expect there will be some changes on the defensive coaching staff. And if they lose as badly as I imagine they will, they might be looking for another head coach going into next year too.

Not that it will help; as long as Jerry Jones owns the team, no really good coach will want to come in because they know they’ll be undermined. Bill Parcells tried, and for a couple of years I think Jerry stayed out of his hair for the most part. But by the third year it became obvious that Jerry again was calling all the shots, and Parcells was just another figurehead coach; I’m sure that’s why he resigned after his fourth year.

The wife and I drank a bottle of wine together last night, then I had a couple other drinks and woke with a bit of a hangover this morning. But aftertoday I have the rest of the week off, and except for Christmas day, all my days off will be MY time; the wife can’t take any vacation this week.

How was your weekends?

Joke of the Week (Plus Bonus)

While searching for a good Joke of the Week, I ran across this cute riddle: What’s the difference between horny and hungry? Where the cucumber goes!

I got a chuckle out of it, though I’m not sure it applies to men as well as women (or not all men, anyway.) Now on to this week’s joke.

An elderly couple was having dinner one evening when the husband reached across the table, took his wife’s hand in his, and said “Martha, soon we will celebrate our 50^th anniversary, and there’s something I have to know: in all these years, have you ever been unfaithful to me?”

Martha replied “Well, Henry, I have to be honest with you. Yes, I’ve been unfaithful to you three times during these 50 years, but always for a good reason.”

Henry was obviously hurt by his wife’s confession, but said “Thank you for being honest with me; I never suspected a thing. Can you tell me what you mean by ‘good reasons’?”

Martha said “The first time was shortly after we were first married, and we were going to lose our little house because we couldn’t pay the mortgage. Remember how I went to see the banker one evening, and the next day he told you the loan would be extended?”

Henry did recall the event, and said “I can forgive you for that; you saved our home. What about the second time?”

Martha replied “When we didn’t have the money to pay for your heart surgery 30 years ago. I was so afraid you were going to die. I went to see your surgeon, and the next day he performed the surgery for free.”

Henry said “Yes, I remember that as well. I always thought the surgeon had done it out of the goodness of his heart. But you saved my life, so of course I can forgive you for that. And what about the third time?”

“Well,” Martha said, “do you remember when you were running for president of your golf club and you needed 73 more votes?”

In case I don’t write anything more before next Wednesday, Merry Christmas to those of you who celebrate it, Happy Holidays to those of you who celebrate something different, and for the rest of you: have a good week!

FFF - First Blood - 12/20

Word Limit= 213

Required Ending- "WOW, that was.....(fill in the blank)"Forbidden words -SmokeBonus Words - Don't leave her alone (unless you are into that)Extra Credit - Buy and extra present for a local Christmas toy drive
(50 words and a smug feeling of satisfaction for each toy donated)

Jennifer lay on my bed, waiting for the dawn light to stream through my window. “We still have about 15 minutes,” I said. “Want to go again?”

She smiled with little humor. “Don’t be greedy, Seth. Three times is enough.”

True, especially for someone who had still been a virgin two hours ago. “You said I could do anything I wanted until sunrise,” I smiled. “I bet I could cum again.”

“You’d be betting with your life,” she answered. “If you’re in contact with me when the light takes me, you’ll die too.”

I sighed; not this again. She’d told me two weeks earlier that she’d been “turned” and couldn’t see me anymore. I’m glad she changed her mind on that part, at least. “Jennifer, you are not a vampire, and the sunlight will not immolate you.”

“I’m glad you were my first, Seth, and that I was yours.” She was crying; I’d never seen her do that. “You don’t know what the craving for blood is like. I haven't had any yet, though I desperately want to; but I don’t want to hurt anyone, especially you. And I’d rather die than lose my soul for eternity.”

It was easier to just let the sun come up and prove her wrong than to argue, so we waited. I thought the shimmering haze coming off her crotch was an illusion, but the haze became more substantial, and her skin blistered and cracked.

The pain became too much for her; she bolted from the bed into the dark corner, screeching like a wounded animal. Her wild eyes turned to me and without warning she sprang. Just as her teeth closed over my neck, a wooden stake burst through her chest, almost impaling me. Jennifer disappeared in a cloud of dust, and a blond was kneeling over me.

“I’m Buffy,” she said. “Wow, that was close!”

313 words exactly, so I’ll have to donate two toys to Toys for Tots. I usually do anyway, so I don’t mind. But there’s no way I could have written anything worth reading if I’d stuck to 213 words. I still may not have, lol.

It felt a little too obvious to go the vampire route, but it felt even more, uh... too obvious to write about the friction from sex causing the poor girl’s nether regions to smoke. And since we couldn’t use the word “smoke”, it was just easier this way.

The picture does remind me of a joke that I’m sure you’ve all heard, that my Psychology professor told us in our Human Sexuality class one day: A boy asked a girl “Do you smoke after sex?” The girl said “I don’t know; I’ve never looked.”

Hopefully my Joke of the Week will be better. Meanwhile, click on over to Advizor’s site and read the other entries for this week’s Flash Fiction Friday!

Christmas Time is Here Again

A lot of people are surprised to find out that I enjoy Christmas because 1) I’m a curmudgeon in general and 2) I’m an Atheist. But despite the normal blahs I feel due to the weather and limited sunshine this time of year, I do look forward to the holidays. I don’t like the stress of shopping (ever) or figuring out what gifts to get for friends and family, but I love getting together with them, overeating (of course) and, yes, giving and getting presents.

I also like Christmas songs, but like most people I tend to burn out on them pretty quick. Two radio stations in my area started playing 24/7 Christmas music the week before Thanksgiving! I’ve been up and down the dial, trying to find other stations to listen to for the time being. I’ll happily listen to and sing along with them for the week leading up to Christmas, but I can only take one or two a day before then.

I mostly like the old classics, sung by the old classics. As a kid, we had some records my Mom played all day long the day we put our tree up and on Christmas day. We might listen to them here and there on the other days, but those two days in particular. The ones I remember best are a Bing Crosby album, which had “Christmas Dinner Country Style,” “Silent Night,” “Do you Hear What I Hear?” among others; “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” with Gene Autry, Rosemary Clooney, and I think Brenda Lee is on this one singing “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree”; and Burl Ives’ album A Holly Jolly Christmas. Burl has one of the better voices for Christmas songs, in my opinion, but I personally like Gene Autry’s version of “Rudolph” better; Burl sped through it too fast.

There aren’t many Christmas songs I actively dislike; I find some of them to be tedious and boring, or overly preachy, and there are certainly some songs I otherwise like, but I really can’t stand someone’s version. I don’t like hearing Johnny Mathis singing any Christmas song because, though he has a very good voice, he sings them like marching songs. The wife actually likes that for some reason, but it’s too regimental for my taste. Still, if one of his songs comes on, I’ll listen to it (unless the other station has a better song on.) “Winter Wonderland” and “Sleigh Ride” are both songs I like if they are sung well, but they can be completely ruined for me if the wrong person sings them.

But there are three (at least) songs I absolutely cannot stand, no matter who sings them. The songs simply suck outright on their own merit. Below I’ll name what I consider the worst of them are and explain why I don’t like them. I’m not trying to step on any toes though; if you happen to like one or more of these songs, that’s fine. This is purely based on my opinion (which is always right.)

3) Feliz Navidad – Jose Feliciano 1970

Length:  3:02 

Feels like: 30:00 

This song features Feliciano repeating “Feliz Navidad” and “I want to wish you a Merry Christmas” over and over again, ad nauseum. If it were cut down to the 1:00 or 1:30 it should have been, it might be okay. Well, no, it’d still suck, but I probably wouldn’t bother reaching for the buttons to change the radio station. I'm lazy enough to put up with a shitty song for a minute-and-a-half, but not for three minutes.

2) Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer – Randy Brooks 1979

Some novelty songs are okay, and I’m actually kind of fond of “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas,” but GMGROBARD just sucks. I know it’s popular but I can’t for the life of me figure out why. It’s not clever, or cute, and the tune isn’t even catchy … it really doesn’t have any redeeming qualities at all.

Randy Brooks wrote the song and he was pretty much a one-hit wonder. He did write a follow-up to this, about how Grandpa decided to sue Santa, but I don’t remember the name of it and I won’t dignify it enough to go back and look again. A husband and wife team sang the song originally as a duet, but they divorced and he re-recorded it alone. I believe that’s the version that gets the most airplay.

The only good thing is that I believe Brooks made pretty good money off the song, but I’m also glad he didn’t go any further with his career. I’d certainly hate to sit back some day and think “he wrote GMGROBARD, but he also wrote <some great song> so I guess I have to like him again.” (If I’m wrong about this, please do not tell me; I don’t want that fragile bubble burst.)

1) The Christmas Shoes – NewSong (Christian vocal group) with various covers – 2000

I’m not the first person to hate this song by any means; it has been on a number of “worst song” lists ever since it came out. Even the movie that was based on the song was roundly panned. My hatred for it stems from the cynical attempt to manipulate the audiences emotions, using the tragedy of a young boy’s mother’s death.  It’s also pretty god-damned formulaic, like it followed a “tear-jerking Christmas songs for dummies” instruction manual.

One trick on a lot of Christmas songs is to have a choir of children come in near the end to really pump up the emotions. “Christmas Through Your Eyes” by Gloria Estefan and Diane Warren uses that trick, and an otherwise serviceable (but by no means good) song is ruined for me because of it. Honestly, I’ve never made it to the end of “The Christmas Shoes” to know if they use the same trick, but it wouldn’t surprise me if they did.

Now I know you're all thinking "but Curious, if you have your least favorite songs, surely you have your most favorite songs." Well, you're right, I do. 

3) The Gift – Stephanie Davis  - Released 1992 by Garth Brooks

I’ve never heard Garth Brooks sing this song (this is on purpose, by the way,) but based on what I’ve heard throughout his career I’m going to assume that it’s best sung by Aselin Debison. She was 12 or 14 when she recorded her version, and her voice is just so sweet and innocent.

In case you’ve never heard it, and can’t click on the link above, little orphan Maria finds an injured nightingale on her way to market and decides to nurse it back to health. She buys a little cage for it and feeds it, and eventually it’s right as rain.

On “Gift Giving Day” in her (I assume Mexican) village, she’s distraught because she doesn’t have anything to offer. Everyone else will be leaving precious items at the local church as offerings to an unnamed receiver (but I bet you can guess who it is), and she wants to participate as well. She’s embarrassed, though, because she doesn’t have anything of value except for a bird, and doesn’t think it’s worthy of this unnamed… it’s Jesus, okay? We all know it’s Jesus and the gifts are for his birthday. She doesn’t think her lowly bird is a good enough gift, but it’s all she has.

Then a voice spoke to her through the darkness
Maria what brings you to me
If the bird in the cage is your offering
Open the door let me see
So she trembled she did as he asked her
An' out of the cage the bird flew
Soaring up into the rafters
On a wing that had healed good as new

I have to admit that I can’t listen to this song if anyone else is around because I tear up every time at this point. I’m not a religious person at all, but I’m still moved by a good story. I don’t know if I’d have the same reaction if a man was singing the song, though, so perhaps having Aselin sing it leaves this song open to charges of emotional manipulation as well.

2) Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht – Joseph More/Franz Gruber

I like the English version of this song (depending on who sings it) but there’s just something about hearing it in German that really affects me. I don’t understand the words completely, despite having gone though it line by line to tweeze out the literal translation (and then Googling it to find out someone else had already done that, and much better than I had). But I understand enough German to get the gist of it while I’m listening to it (similar to when I’m listening to the German version of “99 Luftballoons”) and it just feels more powerful to me that way.

Having a Children's Choir sing a song is fine, by the way. It's the trick of bringing them in near the end backing up the singer that I don't like.

1) Do You Hear What I Hear? – Noel Regney/Gloria Shane Baker

Written by Noel Regney (lyrics) and Gloria Shane Baker (music) in 1962 during the Cuban Missals Crisis, Bing’s version from 1963 is the only really good one for me. This song truly needs to be sung “with a voice as deep as the sea,” and if it’s not a big bass-baritone like Bing’s was then it just doesn’t work. (His voice is also the best voice for “White Christmas”, but his version of the song is just too slow for my tastes; I prefer a little faster pace to that song. It doesn’t have to be totally upbeat and snappy, but it shouldn’t be a dirge, either.)

There are many other Christmas songs I like, and some of them could have wound up in my top three under different circumstances; Nat King Cole’s version of “A Christmas Carol” (aka “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire”), “Little Drummer Boy”, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” (except James Taylor’s version is a bit of a downer) etc. Even a simple song like “Jingle Bells” is fun to listen to. There's a jazzy, big band-like version I like where the middle eighth goes:

I love those j-i-n-g-l-e bells
those holiday j-i-n-g-l-e bells
I love those j-i-n-g-l-e-b-e-double l-s
I love those j-i-n-g-l-e bells

By the way, do you know all the verses to “Jingle Bells”? There are actually four, and they make "Jingle Bells" a pretty solid song. 

XTC's “Thanks for Christmas” is another song I like. It was recorded under the name The Three Wise Men in 1983, but it's really XTC, my all-time second favorite four-man pop band from England. I was surprised when I first heard this song on the radio several Christmases ago, because except for some college radio stations, XTC doesn't get a lot (if any) air play despite being a very talented band.

Speaking of my all-time favorite four-man pop band from England, Beatles fans might be interested in the Christmas greetings tracks the band recorded from 1963 to 1969 as exclusive gifts for their fan club members. When the Beatles officially broke up, the individual recordings were compiled into The Christmas Album, which was released to the fan clubs. Bootleg copies quickly followed (see the full details here) and I first heard these recordings in the early 1980s when my cousin got his hands on one. They are hilarious, and get increasingly more bizarre each year.

FFF - But Then Again, Too Few to Mention - 12/13

This week's Flash Fiction Friday challenge: 275 words (nailed it), and we must start with the phrase "I could not believe what I was reading..." We were not allowed to use the words master, servant, postage, parchment, or poisson (French version), and we could earn bonus words by writing a wildly inappropriate letter to an on-line crush.

I opted not to try for the bonus, because nothing would be considered inappropriate by any of the on-line women I know. But I will say this: if you are a woman I have interacted with online in any way, I have imagined a scenario where we have sex together. Yes, even you! (And especially you!)I cannot include the pictures at this time because I'm finishing and posting this from work (which is dangerous enough) and I have no easy way to add the images. If I get a chance later from home I'll try to fix it then.

Meanwhile, go to Advizor's site (sorry, I can't link either) and read the other entries. As of this posting he hadn't yet posted his story, but when he does it's sure to be great!

On with the story!

I could not believe what I was reading. It was strange to see my lover’s words on paper instead of a phone or computer screen; her handwriting was surprisingly delicate, and easy to read.

Except the words weren’t easy to read.

My parents have threatened to stop paying for college unless I end our “unnatural, disgusting relationship.” We must desist at once, but only a while. I graduate next year and from that point on they cannot control me. I will no longer be in the will, but we’ll make do. Please wait for me, my love!

I did what I always do when I’m mad: I stripped naked and had two bottles of wine for dinner. Then I sat down and wrote my own letter.

You would put money before me, then? You would deprive yourself of my touch, my taste, my tongue for the coins your parents throw at your feet? If our love is of so little importance, then your parents are correct; this relationship is unnatural and disgusting. Wait for you? I shall never speak to you again!

I addressed and stamped the envelope (I didn’t know I even had stamps) and put the letter in the post box on the corner. When she returned for the fall semester, I’d already moved out of the apartment we’d shared with no forwarding address.

She tried once to contact me after she turned 21, but I ignored her. A friend told me she got married, as did I; she in Vermont, and Tikki and I in Maryland. We’re both happy, and that’s all that matters. Still, I often wonder what could have been.

Joke of the Week

I don't have a FFF story written, but I might get one up later. I've started one but don't know if I can finish it. Meanwhile, enjoy this joke.

Three Army Generals were told they were being retired but would receive a generous separation bonus.

"You will be paid one thousand dollars for each centimeter of distance you create from one body part to another."

The first general stretched his arms as far from each other as he possibly could, and said "Measure the distance from the fingertips on my left hand, to the fingertips on my right hand." The general left happy with a large sum of money.

The second general stretched his arms as far above his head as possible and said "Measure the distance from the tip of my fingers to the tip of my toes." He also left happy with an even larger sum of money.

The final general said "I want you to measure the distance from my left nut to my right nut." The soldier with the measuring tape didn't understand what was happening but did as he was told. A few moments later the confused soldier said "Sir, I don't understand. I can only see your right nut."

The general said with a big smile on his face: "I know, I lost my left nut in 'nam."

Weekend Update

Happy Monday everyone. I had my little grumpy snit at the end of the week, and after a relaxing weekend I feel much better. No telling how long that will last, but so far so good.

Friday evening the wife, the niece and I went downtown for the local Christmas parade. I wasn’t so much in a bad mood by then as I was just shut down. The wife noticed and asked several times if anything was wrong and if I was mad at her, and of course I said no. At the parade I saw my cousin (who is one of my lifelong best friends) and a friend of ours who retired from the Navy recently (he was in for 25 years as a lawyer). It was good catching up with him and my cousin, and by the time the parade was over I was feeling better.

I didn’t talk to L all day Saturday, more or less by design. I would have responded if she’d sent me a text, but I didn’t have the desire to start a conversation. As this is unusual for me, the wife asked if we’d had a fight or something. I told her no, just sometimes I need a break from L’s bullshit. The wife understood (she doesn’t know everything, obviously, but she knows plenty about the “safe” stuff) and didn’t push it. I also removed L’s face book posts from my news feed; I didn’t unfriend her or anything, I just don’t need to constantly see what she’s posting.

L did text me early on Sunday to chit-chat about the weather (rainy and cold, light ice) and cooking and whatnot. She asked about my days off during the holidays and I told her that I had the week of Christmas off except that Monday. I mentioned that the wife and the niece both have to work every day except Christmas, and she said “that sucks for them but could be fun for you!” I let that go without comment and instead continued on from an earlier point in the conversation. Later she said she might have the Friday after Christmas off, and that she and I should do something together without everyone else knowing. I said we should try to make that happen, so she’s going to keep me up to date on her schedule.

I made two batches of crock-pot chili for dinner Sunday, and the smell of it cooking all morning and afternoon was driving us all crazy. I made two batches because my wife doesn’t like diced tomatoes, no matter how small, and she definitely doesn’t like spicy food. So I made a big batch the right way (adding a Serrano and jalapeño pepper and using the diced tomatoes) and a smaller batch for her; no heat and tomato paste instead of tomatoes. I hate the way it tastes with tomato paste, but she likes it pretty good.

Well, that was my weekend. How was yours?

Joke of the Day

Two sisters, a blonde and a brunette, inherit the family ranch. Unfortunately, after just a few years, they are in financial trouble. In order to keep the bank from repossessing the ranch, they need to purchase a bull so they can breed their own stock.

The brunette balances their checkbook, then decides to take their last $600 dollars out west to another ranch where a man has a prize bull for sale. Upon leaving, she tells her sister, "If I decide to buy the bull, I'll contact you to drive out after me and haul it home."

The brunette arrives at the man's ranch, inspects the bull, and decides she does want to buy it. The man tells her that he can sell it for $599, no less. After paying him, she drives to the nearest town to send her sister a telegram.

She walks into the telegraph office, and says, "I want to send a telegram to my sister telling her that I've bought a bull for our ranch. I need her to hitch the trailer to our pick-up truck and drive out here so we can haul it home."

The telegraph operator explains that he'll be glad to help her, then adds, "It's just 99 cents a word."

Well, with only $1 left after paying for the bull, the brunette realizes that she'll only be able to send her sister one word. After thinking for a few minutes, she nods, and says, "I want you to send her the word, comfortable."

The telegraph operator shakes his head. "How is she ever going to know that you want her to hitch the trailer to your pick-up truck and drive out here to haul that bull back to your ranch if you just write, comfortable?"

The brunette explains, "My sister's a slow reader."

Unrequited Everything!

Apparently L has been back in contact with TOG, the old school friend she almost had an affair with early on in our relationship, then later fucked a couple of times after the divorce when she wasn’t officially with either B or S. (I'd link to the other blog entries that talk about him, but I can't when I'm writing this at work.) When she first found out that S had killed himself, TOG was in state and she talked like she wanted to get with him if he’d come to town. (Apparently he buys houses, fixes them up, and then attempts to flip them for a profit, which brings him back to the state. Sometimes he’s in the area because of family, but often he’s four hours away.) Then out of the blue she asked me to block him on Facebook for her (she couldn’t figure out how to do it from her phone) saying she didn’t want the drama and wanted to focus on making things better with her and B. I guess she’s past that now.

On top of a week of her spearing me in the gut with other hurtful, off-hand comments, she texted me yesterday evening to ask how to hide a picture from her phones Gallery. Her phone is similar enough to mine, so I told her she can’t do what she wants without another app. I was driving at the time and couldn’t go into the details, but I did “jokingly” ask who she was getting pictures from that she needed to hide. She said “Utah”, which is where TOG lives.

We’ve had this discussion before about how to hide pictures. Back in August when she was fooling around with S again and wanted to save some pictures (and hinting that she wanted to keep my pictures too) I offered to set it up for her. Once I set it up, all she’d have to do is move the pictures to that folder, which I could show her how to do. I warned that the folder would still be visible browsing with the file manager, but casually looking in the Gallery wouldn’t pop them up. She decided it was too risky, and too complicated, and would just have to delete the pictures before B had a chance to go through her phone. And this isn’t the first time we’ve talked about it.

So asking me how to do it last night, when she knew I was driving home, and there’s no way I’d be able to set it up or talk her through it (I’d honestly rather try to talk my mother through something tech related than L) seems very much like a deliberate move to let me know she’s fucking around with TOG again. I don’t guess she’s actually fucking him (yet), but they’re exchanging pictures and I’ll bet he’s going to be at least in state soon. The point is, she does this as another dig at me, knowing how it will make me feel.

I’d be okay with it if I thought it was just that she wanted to make me jealous, but it’s a lot deeper than that. Earlier in the week she told me she was going to see a counselor, which is something we both know she’s needed for some time now. She said not to tell the wife because she didn’t want anyone gossiping about her (which the wife wouldn’t do, but whatever) then said “I didn’t even really want to tell you.” If I’d somehow tricked the info out of her, or found out some other way, saying that would make sense; her volunteering the information and then saying that is just a dig.

Likewise when she was telling me about the counselor visit Wednesday afternoon, she mentioned that part of the reason she finally is going is because of her drinking, and threw out “Oh, last Saturday was bad.” When I asked about what had happened, she said “I don’t want to go into details about it.” That didn’t bother me that much, but then she followed up with “Don’t be upset, I just don’t want there to be a lot of gossip or drama over it. I’m having major trust issues with everyone.” That attempt to smooth things over actually made it worse, in my mind.

So rubbing TOG’s dick in my face (figuratively) isn’t about making me jealous; it’s about reminding me of my place. Never mind how I go out of my way to help her when she needs it, or that I’m the one she dumps on when things are going shitty; I’m inadequate and untrustworthy, and I only really mean anything to her when she needs something from me. And if I dare to get too comfortable with how our relationship is going, she’s eager and willing to smack me down and remind me that it’s all just smoke and mirrors.

I’m trying to control my increasingly bad mood, but I’m on the edge of… something. I snapped at the wife this morning over nothing, and had to really fight to maintain my composure on the drive in this morning. I feel like I want something to come to a head with L; a real fight where I tell her exactly how I feel and end with a “fuck you!” And maybe worse! Of course I get too much into my own head with shit, and instead of just letting loose and telling her how fucked up it all is, I feel like I have to wait for the right opportunity. I can get as irrationally angry as the next person, but I want to be logical about it dammit!

I know it’s what I should do to either clear the air (for a while) or just fucking blow the whole thing up once and for all. Sometimes I feel like I’d be better off, and maybe she would be too, if we just broke everything and didn’t bother each other anymore. And honestly, if she weren’t my sister (on top of everything else) I almost certainly would try.

Weekend Update

Happy Monday, everyone! To my US readers, I hope you had a safe and joyous Thanksgiving holiday. If you aren’t in the US or otherwise don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, I hope your weekend was still pleasant.

My parents took the family to a local restaurant for Thanksgiving dinner Thursday, and though I tried hard not to overeat I was still stuffed. The food was better than it had been in the past few years, and my mother was in a relatively good mood and didn’t bring everyone else down. In my family we count those as wins!

The Cowboys looked bad early in their game Thursday afternoon, but ended the first half with a touchdown to draw close. Then they dominated the second half, winning a game that wasn’t as close as the final score made it appear. I think they’ll make the playoffs (though the Eagles are starting to look strong again), but I don’t expect them to advance very far; they still have too many flaws to win against the upper tier teams.

I didn’t work Friday, but the wife did. That meant we had to delay our vacation to Virginia Beach until she got off work. While I had some time I did some cleaning around the house (mainly the stove) and lay down to take a nap so I wouldn’t be too tired that evening during a longish drive. L texted me, and said I could call if I wanted (she had the day off as well.) We talked for a bit, and I felt like she was being a little flirtier than normal, but I couldn’t reciprocate because the niece was home and would overhear.

We did mildly tease a little, and it was a nice conversation. She was supposed to stop by and see us Thursday afternoon but wound up running behind too much and had to head back home before she could. I was horny after we hung up, so I quietly rubbed one out. I didn’t nap as well as I’d hoped, but the wife got home around 3:30, and by4:30 we were on the road.

We got to Virginia Beach right at 9 p.m., and though I was tired I was too wound up from the drive and needed to relax. We walked around the area a bit to see if we could find an open place to get a couple of beers, but the only places open were nightclubs playing too loud music and wanting cover charges. We did find a 7-11, though, and wound up buying some beer and snacks and taking them back to the room. I was hoping for some action, but the wife was tired and we went on to sleep before midnight.

I woke up way too early Saturday morning, and had time to get on the computer and touch on all my favorite sites. I was supposed to wake the wife up at 8 but I wound up crawling back in bed around7:30 and playing around until she woke up. She was a little disappointed to be up earlier than she wanted, but after a quick pee and brushing her teeth she came back to bed and we cuddled some. She wound up giving me head, but wouldn’t let me go down on her. We had a nice, slow fuck, and I came on her stomach. I wanted to finish her off with the toy we packed, but she declined saying we had all weekend. As true as that was, I knew we would almost certainly not do anything else the weekend, and I was right.

Still, we had a nice day of walking around and finding things to look at and do. The weather was cool, of course, but she spent about an hour walking the beach looking for shark teeth while I smoked a cigar. She didn’t find any, but was happy to have a chance to look. We had a nice seafood dinner at a real restaurant (instead of the usual seafood buffet) then road around a bit looking at some of the sights. It’s off season at the beach, so there wasn’t really a lot to do, but they had holiday lights up all along the boardwalk so we walked up and down a bit taking pictures before it got too cold for us. We went back to the room and had a little wine and a few beers and watched some college football. I was hoping for a repeat of the morning, but she declined; she was too tired, it was too late, etc.

Sunday morning we got up early so we could grab some breakfast then start getting packed up to head home. While the wife was in the shower, I noticed a video on my tablet’s “Gallery” that looked familiar. I played it, and it turned out to be one L sent me three years ago of her with her vibrator; I thought it was lost for good! I had accidentally deleted some files from my phone (which is where I had it stored) but apparently I’d transferred it to my computer before that happened. When I moved some music files to the tablet, that video went with it. I was so happy, and I watched it three or four times while the wife was showering.

Unfortunately she didn’t want to fool around when she got out, so I was left hanging once again. Then last night she didn’t want to do anything after we got home because, again, she decided we were both too tired. I would have tried to sneakily rub one out, but I never got the chance. I’m hoping I’ll find some time today at work to sneak into the men’s room and take care of that.

Well, that was my weekend. How was yours?

Joke of the Week

I decided, with Simplicity's encouragement, to post this week's joke early because of the holidays. The wife and I are going out of town sometime Friday (she probably has to work, and probably for the whole day, so we'll get a late start) and I'm going to be too busy to get this up. Plus, everyone needs a good laugh, right?

I stole this week's joke from Reddit.com; I wish I could remember the user who posted it so I could properly attribute him/her, but that's the nature of 1) the internet and 2) my aging brain.

For those who celebrate it, Happy Thanksgiving! For those who don't, happy Wednesday!

So a man is driving home from a buisness trip. He has a pretty low paying job, so obviously he doesn't have the best of cars.

After a few hours of driving, he drives past a monastery. That kind with all the monks.

And holy tits, his car breaks down right in front of the monastery.

Being a man of God, he obviously figures, "I bet the monks will let me stay with them while my car is repaired." So he goes to the front gate and knocks on the door. A man in robes answers. He tells the monk his predicament and the monk, being a monk, lets him stay the night, and even helps with repair costs for his car.

While the business man is sleeping that night, he hears this strange noise. It just perplexes him, and for the life of him, he can't figure out what it is. He decides when he wakes up in the morning, he'll ask the monks about it.

When he wakes up, he finds the monk who he met when his car first broke down, and asks him, "Can you tell me what that noise I heard was last night?"

The monk replies, "I'm sorry, brother. I cannot tell you, for you are not a monk." The man accepts this. He thanks the monks for their graciousness, and goes about his way when he gets his car back. 3 years later, he is driving on another buisness trip. And wouldn't you know it, his car breaks down in front of the monastery again.

Again, he figures, he can stay the night. And, of course, the monks let him stay and offer him the same help as before.

And once again, during the night, he hears that noise. He has no idea what it could be. He decides to ask the monk once again, with hopes that he would trust him more this time around. In the morning he meets the monk again, and asks, "I'm sorry for asking again, but what is that noise!?"

The monk replies, "I cannot tell you, for you are not a monk."

The man says, "Alright! I'll become a monk! What do I need to do!?"

The monk replies, "I need you to travel the world, and count every blade of grass if you truly wish to become a monk."

The man swiftly accepts and leaves all of his worldly possessions behind him to travel the world on this mission.

He goes to all corners of the globe counting grass blades.

After 50 years, he comes back to the monastery. He gives the monk accurate numbers and the monks give him monk-hood. And obviously, the first thing he wants to do is find out what that noise was. So he asks the head monk.

The head monk beckons him to follow him and he does. After a few minutes of walking through corridors and rooms, they happen upon a wooden door.

The man can hear the noise. He gets excited. The head monk hands him a brass key. He reaches with the key to the lock, and unlocks the door.

There is another door though. This time iron. And the monk hands him an iron key.
This happens again and again. So many types of doors and keys. Every thing you could imagine. Glass doors, gold doors. Everything

Finally, they get to a door made of solid diamond. The noise is louder than ever. The monk hands the man the final key.

He opens the door and finally sees what has been making the noise.

But I can't tell you what it is, because you aren't a monk.

Weekend Update

Happy Monday, everyone. I hope all of my fellow ‘Mercans will be able to enjoy a safe and enjoyable Thanksgiving on Thursday.

There wasn’t a lot going on this weekend to speak of, so this will be a relatively short update. We’ve been trying to get out of the house a little more on Saturday evenings, even if it’s just to run to the store or something, to break up the day some. It can’t be good, and it certainly isn’t very fun, to stay on the couch the whole day until it’s time for bed.

The one interesting thing that did occur is that I posted a link to this blog on Reddit.com which generated substantially more hits than I’ve gotten in the past. It helps that I posted in the Incest subreddit, and told a little about my relationship with L. I linked to the stories I wrote about our first time and to the blog.

I normally get around 30 or 40 page views a day, and if I’m writing anything interesting I might get up to 100. My highest hit count for a single day prior to Sunday was around 180, when JFB linked to my blog. By Sunday night, when the count switches over to the next day, I’d had over 1300 hits! And I’m close to 900 already today!

Now I’m sure it’s a much smaller number of new readers and they are clicking through the past updates to catch up, but still! I’m an attention hound, so this pleases me, lol.

Well, that’s about it for my exciting weekend. How was yours?

Joke of the Week

A wealthy lawyer was riding in his limousine when he saw two men along the roadside eating grass. Disturbed, he ordered his driver to stop and he got out to investigate. He asked one man, "Why are you eating grass?"

"We don't have any money for food," the poor man replied. "We have to eat grass."

"Well then, you can come with me to my house and I'll feed you," the lawyer said.

"But sir, I have a wife and two children with me. They are over there, under that tree."

"Bring them along," the lawyer replied. Turning to the other poor man he stated, "You come with us also."

The second man, in a pitiful voice then said, "But sir, I also have a wife and SIX children with me!"

"Bring them all, as well," the lawyer answered. They all entered the car, which was no easy task, even for a car as large as the limousine.

Once underway, one of the poor fellows turned to the lawyer and said, "Sir, you are too kind. Thank you for taking all of us with you."

The lawyer replied, "Glad to do it. You'll really love my place; the grass is almost a foot high!"

Flash Fiction Friday - Distraction - 11/22

Key Words:  (searching or seeking) and asphalt

Word Limit:  210

Forbidden words:  flippers

Extra Credit:  What kind of trees are in the background?

Bonus Words: Donate to the Red Cross fund for the Philippines hurricane relief, 

or to their general fund  1 word per dollar.

Andy pulled his police car behind the van, noting the out-of-state plate. The woman was sitting beside it, looking through binoculars. Andy glanced where she was looking but didn’t see anything of interest.

“Howdy, ma’am. Watcha searching for?” he asked.

“Good morning, sheriff,” she answered without lowering the binoculars. “I don’t know yet, but I will when I see it.” She lazily scratched her side, causing her bare breasts to jiggle. Despite his best efforts to remain professional, Andy felt his cock stirring.

“I see,” he answered. “Is there a reason you are sitting there naked?”

She grinned. “It beats standing. Besides, I’m not naked,” she said. “I’ve got my swim fins on.”

Andy started feeling uneasy; something was off about this woman. He walked closer and said “Ma’am, you’re going to have to come with m…” He never heard the ringing sound the shovel made as it smashed into his head.

She jumped up in shock, staring at the gangly man standing over the sheriff. “What the…? Are you trying to kill him?”

“I hope I did! I’m tired of living in his shadow!” the man exclaimed. “He’s still breathing, though.”

“Okay, good. Put him in the van and we’ll go rob that bank you told me about, Barney.”

210 Words. I probably will donate to the relief effort, but I don't know when I'll be able to or how much.

Get over to Advizor's site to read the other fine entries for this week's Flash Fiction Friday.

Grammar Question

I’m sure that some of you are cunning linguists, so I’m asking for your help on a question. In fact, if you want to forward this on to others in order to find an answer, I welcome that as well.

B and B’s father (whom I’ll call J) (and if you don’t know who B and J are, it’s not really important, but it’s part of the whole L narrative)…

Let me start over for clarity. B and J both have an idiosyncratic grammar usage that I have never heard anyone use, or heard of it being a part of a regional dialect. They use negative contractions (isn’t, doesn’t, aren’t, etc) as positives in specific circumstances.

For instance, the wife and I were talking with J one night, and he said “I had a golf tournament the next day, and so didn’t my wife.” In the context it was clear that he meant “… so did my wife.” As near as I can tell, J does this every time he means to say someone else also did something. B does it a lot, but not every time, which leads me to believe he learned it from J.

I once asked B about it, pointing out where he’d even written it that way on a Facebook posting, and he said he had no idea that he did that. He agreed that it’s clearly incorrect usage, and said he’d have to watch what he said from then on, but he still does it maybe once in every three or four times that it would come up.

I've never heard either of them say something like "I wasn't at the store" when they meant they were. But both will say "I was at the store and so wasn't he." It's only when they are including someone else that they do this. But they use it correctly when they say "I was at the store but she wasn't" or "I wasn't there and neither was he."

J was in the Navy for 30 plus years, and apparently among all their travels they spent a great deal of time in Spain, so I wonder if something regional there would have influenced them. I picked up the habit of saying things like “I’ll go with” from the way sentences are structured in German (though the first time I became aware of that usage was from some young adult book I read when I was 9 or 10.)

So anyway, the question is: have any of you heard of this usage of negative contractions to mean a positive? I’m really curious how something like this would have started.

Weekend Update

Happy Monday everyone; I can’t believe Thanksgiving is next week!

 This weekend could have worked out better; the niece went out of town Friday after work for a concert so the wife and I had the house to ourselves until late Sunday evening. Unfortunately, it’s shark week so we didn’t get to take advantage of the situation as much as we’d have liked. It was nice being able to walk around the house naked again, and leaving the door open while peeing, though.

I made Maryland Cream of Crab soup Saturday for dinner, and it came out pretty good. I didn’t like the bits of shell still in the crab; for what I paid for a pound of it, I wish it had been cleaned better. But it was tasty. The wife suggested that next time we use imitation crab and that I use half the other ingredients. I agree, as we wound up with way more soup than the two of us can eat, and now I don’t trust reheating what was left over. I’m sure health wise it’s fine because it’s been in the refrigerator; I don’t think it’ll taste very good, though, so I’m going to throw out quite a bit of it.

We both needed to get out of the house for a while after dinner, so we drove out to the mall and walked around some. Then the wife thought to look at some inexpensive jackets to replace the one she’s been wearing for seven or eight years and is pretty worn. We looked in two different stores but she couldn’t find anything that appealed to her, and my knees and feet started hurting something fierce, so we came on home and had a few drinks before heading to bed. We were both so stuffed from eating two big bowls of the soup (and Red Lobster cheese and garlic biscuits) that the alcohol wasn’t giving us the buzz we really wanted.

We did some more running around Sunday and wound up getting a few nice gifts for various people. The wife looked at some more coats, and though she found a few she liked she didn’t to spend as much as they’d cost. Personally I didn’t think they were too expensive, and told her, but she didn’t want them. I’m a cheap bastard when it comes to what I’m willing to spend on my own clothes, but I don’t mind her getting what she wants and needs.

For dinner Sunday night I used a recipe a Facebook friend of mine posted. He didn’t name the recipe, but it’s chicken breasts stuffed with cheese and coated with crushed Gold Fish crackers. Fried on both sides for browning then baked in the oven. It turned out really good, and I’ve already got some ideas of what I’ll do next time to make it even better. The cheese was a good stuffing, but I think it would be even better with cheese, ham, and mushrooms. Or perhaps a mushroom sauce over it. Yes, I know I’m basically describing a Cordon Bleu, but I’m not skilled enough of a cook to make Cordon Bleu. I am, however, skilled enough to make a chicken breast stuffed with ham and cheese and covered in a creamy mushroom sauce.

As an aside, I still think it’s funny that my favorite meal of all times was a chicken cordon bleu (French) served at an Italian Ristorante in the German town my wife grew up in.

At least this weekend I didn’t have to watch my Cowboys lose another game; they had their by week and didn’t play. I was hoping the Eagles and Giants would lose, but no such luck. Yes, that means I was nominally rooting for the Redskins, but I believe I can safely say that’s the last game they play this year that I’ll root for them. On the other hand, I’m not sure why I even care about what the rest of the division does. The Cowboys simply aren’t good enough to do anything with a playoff berth even if they squeak in.

How were your weekends?

Joke of the Week

Druggist's Bad Day

Upon arriving home in eager anticipation of a leisurely evening, the husband was met at the door by his sobbing wife. Tearfully she explained, "It's the druggist - he insulted me terribly this morning on the phone."

Immediately the husband drove downtown to accost the druggist and demand an apology. Before he could say more than a word or two, the druggist told him, "Now, just a minute - listen to my side of it.

This morning the alarm failed to go off, so I was late getting up. I went without breakfast and hurried out to the car, but I'll be damned if I didn't lock the house with both house and car keys inside. I had to break a window to get my keys.

Driving a little too fast, I got a speeding ticket. Then, about three blocks from the store I had a flat tire.

When I finally got to the store there was a bunch of people waiting for me to open up. I got the store opened and started waiting on these people, and all the time the darn phone was ringing its head off.

Then I had to break a roll of nickels against the cash register drawer to make change, and they spilled all over the floor. I got down on my hands and knees to pick up the nickels - the phone is still ringing - when I came up I cracked my head on the open cash drawer, which made me stagger back against a showcase with a bunch of perfume bottles on it, and half of them hit the floor and broke.

The phone is still ringing with no let up, and I finally got back to answer it. It was your wife -- she wanted to know how to use a rectal thermometer. Well, Mister, I TOLD HER!"

Out with it!

Something has been going on with L lately; she hasn’t made much effort to contact me during the day, and when we do talk (via text messaging) her answers are curt and don’t really encourage further comment. I’ve been obliging and just letting the conversation drop, and today I’ve decided I just won’t start any conversation. If she wants to talk, she has my number; if she doesn’t, fuck it.

Now on Monday she was a little more animated, even wishing me a Happy Veteran’s Day. But as it happens, she also wanted to ask me to set a few of her boxes out the next morning for B to pick up when he was in town to look in on his father. Once I agreed, she went quiet again. I’ve consider maybe she’s just been really busy, but when I ask how her day is, she answers “Slow.” That’s it; nothing more. If I talk about how my day has been, I might get an “Okay”, “right”, or “cool”, but that’s it.

She and B have been in town twice since the wife and I last spent the night with them, and she was in town herself this past weekend visiting a friend of hers. The only time we saw her was when she wanted to get a few other boxes, and then they only stopped long enough to grab them and they were gone. I don't expect them to go out of their way to see us, but when they're already in the area? I couldn't imagine going down to their neck of the woods and not at least letting her know and seeing if they want to meet up. Usually I find out their in town because she posted something on Facebook after the fact.

I don’t like confrontation generally, but I’m also impatient; so probably sometime today I’m just going to come out and ask her what’s going on. I’d rather get it out in the open than just sit here sullenly, harrumphing about how she can text me first if she wants to talk, by god, because I’m certainly not texting her first. It may turn into a fight, but better that than this cold distance.

I suspect she’s not even really mad at me; she usually is quite upfront about it when she has a problem with something I’ve said or done. I think she’s still sulking because the wife said something kind of rude (but not that big a deal, really) the last time we stayed there. When L complained about it that Monday after, she said something along the lines of “I only put up with her because of you.” I didn’t really say anything to that, because if I had it would have been to tell her to go fuck herself. I mean, yea, the wife shouldn’t have said what she did (and I did talk to the wife about her habit of saying what’s on her mind no matter how inappropriate) but L is exactly the same way and has no room to complain.

Another possibility occurred to me today, though. The last time L got this distant with me without a specific reason to be mad at me was when she and S were first ramping up their relationship. She later told me that it was because she was emailing so much with him she didn’t have time for me. It does make me wonder if she’s starting something with someone new (or even someone from the past.) At the moment I give the chance of that about a 15% or less, and 70% more likely it’s the thing with the wife. And the remaining 15% is just recognizing that it could be something else altogether.

Like I said, I’ll probably confront her about it before the end of the day so hopefully I’ll at least know what’s going on. The problem with that, though, is that no matter what she says is the reason (if she says anything at all), it’s not necessarily going to be the truth.

Weekend Update

Happy Monday, and to my fellow Veterans, Happy Veteran's Day! It's a short update this weekend because nothing really worth writing about happened. Virginia Tech won and the Dallas Cowboys lost, so it was an up and down weekend.

This Isn't About Football!

If you follow the NFL at all you’re probably aware of a recent problem with the Miami Dolphins. One player, Jonathan Martin, has accused another player, Ritchie Incognito, with bullying and racist behavior. I’m not going to get into the debate about whether Martin needs to toughen up or Incognito needs to tone it down; I’ll leave it to ESPN to blow that shit way out of proportion. Frankly, as long as it’s not the Cowboys locker room in disarray, I’ve moved from mild interest to mostly indifference about the specific issue.

One thing did catch my eye yesterday, though. A lot of the Dolphins’ players have come out in support of Incognito, and most of them say he is not racist despite his use of the “N” word in a voice mail left for Martin (who is bi-racial). And this is coming from the other Black players, one of whom said (paraphrasing) “He [Incognito] is honorary. You don’t understand because you ain’t Black, but he’s honorary. He’s more Black than Martin.”

Martin is bi-racial, from a well-to-do family, and graduated from an Ivy League college. Those factors apparently make him “less” Black than the blonde-haired, pasty skinned (except where he has tattoos) Incognito in the eyes of his teammates (and probably a fair amount of the Black population in general.) A statement like that is obviously intended to be an insult to Martin and, conversely, to be a compliment for Incognito as well as a defense. I haven’t heard anybody else mention this, but one wonders what would have been the reaction if a White player, in defense of a Black person, had said something similar.

It caught my eye because of a couple of experiences I had in the military with this kind of double standard. The first one happened in Basic Training between two of my fellow recruits (thankfully I wasn’t directly involved in this one.) I wish I could remember their names, but that’s beyond me at this point, almost 30 years later. So let’s call them Burt and Ernie.

Burt was White (I assume he still is) and Ernie was Black, and the two of them struck up a pretty good friendship early on. At least once a day Ernie could be heard calling Burt a “cracka-ass redneck”, though it was understood to be good-natured. Burt was actually from the mid-west, if I remember correctly, and didn’t really have any of the characteristics I would have associated with either a cracka-ass or redneck, but it was all in fun.

One day the two of them got into an actual argument over something, and it was apparent that their tempers were heating up. This wasn’t their typical back-and-forth banter where one would take a contrary view just to have something to do; they were honestly at odds on some idea or another and were having a heated exchange about it. It didn’t help that this argument was being played out in front of everyone in the barracks, especially since four or five of the other Black soldiers were behind Ernie, egging him on. Now this was not in any way a racial argument, or a Black versus White thing; it was probably something as banal as which college was better or the like. But every point Ernie made was underscored by screaming laughter of his peanut gallery, and Burt would get shouted down when he tried to counter.

Finally, Ernie said “What the fuck do you know? You ain’t nothing but a dumb, cracka-ass redneck!” which of course resulted in howls of laughter from the others. Burt answered “I think I know as much as a Black boy who never left home until two months ago.”

Did you cringe just now? Did you do that reflexive thing White people do when they read about a White person who said “boy” to a Black person? It’s especially bad that he used the qualifier “Black” with it, but “boy” was the over-the-line moment, wasn’t it? If you didn’t, then hey, that’s great; you’re more enlightened than most. If you did, don’t feel too bad; I cringed writing it.

Well, pandemonium ensued as can probably be expected. The four or five Black guys behind Ernie went nuts, screaming at Burt and edging closer to him. For his part, Ernie looked as surprised at their reaction as Burt, who later told me he never considered that they would take what he said as anything other than the tit-for-tat exchange that he intended it to be. But if a Drill Sergeant hadn’t come in to see what all the ruckus was about, it could have gotten bad for Burt.

As it was he got reamed for making a racist comment, and there was some talk (though probably more to scare Burt than actual intent) of kicking him out of Basic Training. Of course Ernie didn’t get in trouble for calling Burt a “cracka-ass redneck” because, you know, they’re just words and Burt should have been  mature enough not to be bothered by mere words. (For the record, Burt and Ernie remained friends. It took a few days for things to settle down, but by the end of training it was mostly forgotten about by most of us.)

The second incident was a few years later, when I was stationed in Germany, and did involve me directly. I’d gone bowling with a group of guys from my unit one night, and the beer was going down pretty easy. The good-natured insults that were a normal part of Army life were flying, and though I’m normally quieter and more reserved, that night I was giving as good as I got. I got in a number of good zingers that even the brothers were impressed by, and we all had a good time.

The next morning I was eating breakfast with some of the guys who’d been there that night. Mitchell, one of the E-3s (Private) in my crew, was telling me that one of the girls working at the alley the night before had asked him who I was. I fake-angrily berated him for not having told me the night before when I could have done something about it, which had the guys at the table laughing. The angle I was playing up was that I’m married and can’t go back over there while sober to chat the girl up, but I’d been drinking the night before and could have gotten away with it then. Not to brag (yea, right) but I had them in stitches.

When Mitchell caught his breath he said “Man, that chick was right when she said you talk shit as good as a brutha.” To put that in context, most of the guys that I’d been there with were Black, including Mitchell, and there was a lot of shit-talking going on. I laughed and said “What did she mean ‘like a brutha’? ‘Bruthas’ ain’t the only ones who can talk shit, now!” I was mainly just playing around, still in character from before, but I was genuinely confused as to why she would have put it that way.

Jones, also Black, was laughing and said “Sgt. CuriousRob, she meant that as a compliment! You should be proud!” Still in a joking mood, I said “That’s not a compliment; it’s insulting! It’s as bad as if I said you play tennis as well as a White person!”

You just cringed again, didn’t you?

Of course the point I was making, and however much I was joking I was still making a point, was lost with those at the table. Jones, who actually was a pretty good tennis player, assured me he would whip my ass on the tennis court right then and there to prove Black people can play tennis as good as Whites can, and even better! I didn’t get in any trouble over the incident, but it sure drove home the fact that the double standard exists (and that people willfully misunderstand a point if it means they can get their rage on.)

Flash Fiction Friday - Midday Express - 11/8

Required Words - Conductor, Ticket, Destination
Word Limit - 200 words, exactly
Forbidden words - suitcase, vulva, Wysteria,
or Horwarts Express
Bonus Points - Remember that private compartments
cost triple that of a regular seat.
Extra Words - Include a rhyming couplet = 25 words,
Name her Tammy = 15 words. Put her in charge = 25 words.
BUT, you can only chose one of the Extra word categories.

Howard shifted slightly when the rail employee entered the car. “Stop!” he hissed. “It’s the conductor!”

“The conductor drives the train, dummy,” Harriet smirked, keeping him firmly in her grasp. “That’s the porter; he’s coming to check our tickets.”

Howard tented the blanket they were under to hide her motions. He’d wanted to get a private compartment, but those were three times more expensive. Fortunately, this car wasn’t as crowded as usual considering their destination. The porter made his way slowly up the aisle while Harriet continued to stroke him.

“Harriet, please stop!” he whispered urgently. Without warning he grunted softly, jerking as his orgasm spun through him. His cum smeared messily between the blanket and his naked stomach and groin.

Harriet wiped her hand clean on the blanket, smiling broadly; Howard noticed she didn’t seem to care if others were watching. In his post-orgasmic bliss, he realized he really didn’t care either.

“Tickets please,” the porter intoned, bored. He knew what they were doing, but had seen far worse in his time. At least they were using their own blanket.

Harriet stood up, the blanket sliding off and revealing her bra and panties. “Sorry,” she smiled at the porter and pointing to the overhead bin, “our tickets are in my purse.”

The porter smiled broadly. “No problem ma’am.” Yes, he’d seen far worse indeed!

225 words. Get over to Advizor's site to read the other entries, and remember to check back there throughout the day to catch the later entries.

Dinner with T

The last time I talked to T (y'all remember T, right? The gay guy I used to work with who was going to be my "first" if things had worked out? Right, him; okay good you do remember) was a few months ago. I'd messaged him asking how things were, and he said things were "fine", but didn't offer any elaboration. We messaged back and forth a bit, and I said we still needed to do dinner sometime to which he agreed, and that was it. I still feel some guilt over whatever part I played in his and P's problems, so I let it drop. I figured if he wanted to meet up he'd contact me.

Early last week I received a Linkd-In request to add T to my connections, and I accepted. I wondered if he was going to try to contact me through there, but a day or two later he hadn't so I messaged him and asked (as always) how things were going. Previously he always answered "we're doing fine" but this time he simply said "I'm doing fine." I wondered if that meant he and P had broken up for good, and whether it made any difference. We talked a bit, then I asked if he would be free the next Monday (last night) to meet for dinner, and he said he would be. We set a time and place, and to skip ahead we met at a local Applebee's he chose, inside a mall in our area.

Aside: I'm not a fan of Applebee's and it wouldn't have been my first choice, or even my seventh or eighth choice, but it did have the advantage of being out of the way and not likely I'd see anyone I know there. And really, they've made some menu changes, and I rather liked the Wonton Chicken Tacos.

We exchanged pleasantries while we looked over the menu, and put in our order, then got down to serious talking. He told me that he and P are doing better than ever after almost splitting up. It had gotten so far that P had gotten his own apartment and was in the process of moving out. But at the last moment they admitted they didn't want that, hugged it out and are back together. It's actually more complicated than that, of course, and they are still working on their issues, but really that's about what it came down to.

I apologized for my hand in the problems, with the text I sent so long ago that P saw. T assured me that it was a minor ripple in the waves of all their problems, and that I shouldn't feel guilty about it at all. He said he told P that I just make a lot of sexual innuendo, but that I'm straight and married and not a threat to him at all. I asked if he'd told P that he was meeting me for dinner and he said he did.

I caught him up on my busy summer, telling him about my adventures with Brent, Simplicity, and the resumption of things with L. No, he doesn't know about my relationship with L, and I spoke of that in really vague terms, that it was just a one-time (so far) resumption of a prior relationship. He wasn't very interested in that or my adventures with Simplicity (again, fairly vague details.) But brother, did he want to know about Brent!

I explained how he and I met online and, after some time, decided to meet up. I didn't sexualize the encounter like I did here on my blog, but I didn't leave anything out. T asked if I would do it again, and I told him that though I'm not obsessed with it like I was previously, the curiosity is still a part of me and under the right circumstances I'm pretty sure I would. T said he understood, and that he wished things could have worked out between us. I agreed, and said that I'd thought about that, not knowing what his and P's status was, but that I wouldn't feel right about it now since he and P were making an effort to put things back together. He agreed and said he didn't want to screw things up with him, and we pretended we didn't know we were both lying.

T said "I would like to see it though, you know, in person," then excused himself to go to the men's room. I had a feeling he was hoping I'd follow but I wasn't going to. When I lie about how I wouldn't feel right about messing around because of the possible effect it could have on the person's relationship, I like to wait more than five minutes before going ahead and messing around anyway. He came back to the table and seemed a little disappointed, so I offered to send him a picture. He said that wasn't the real thing, but sure go ahead. I sent two I thought he'd like, and I was right.

We left the restaurant and walked around the mall some and continued to talk. As we approached the other end of the mall, T said he needed to piss again, so we walked to the restroom. I followed him in, knowing that he wanted to have a look and thinking I'd let him, but I chickened out. The urinals were too close together, and I really did have to pee; there's no way I would have been able to with him gawking at me. Hell, even if he had no interest in looking at my dick, I wouldn't be able to pee standing that close to someone else. I ducked into a stall and finished up, and wondered if he'd step in and ask to see. The mall was almost dead, as usual (I don't know how it's managed to stay open as long as it has) so it would have been safe enough. But he didn't, so I zipped up and washed my hands and followed him out.

We continued walking around and talking, and at one point he made a joking sexual reference about something I don't remember. I chuckled my nervous laugh, and he asked if he'd stepped over the line. I assured him he hadn't; I just laugh like that. He said he jokes around like that to try to help me feel more comfortable about it, "so the next time, whoever it's with, you hopefully won't be as nervous." He said he was disappointed when I went into the stall in the bathroom, because (duh) he wanted to look. I told him about the shy bladder, and said "besides, T, I'm a grower not a show-er. There just wouldn't be that much to see." I thought to say he could have come to the stall and asked, but decided not to.

Finally we were at the end of the mall where he'd parked. He admitted to feeling a little jealous that my first time wasn't with him, and asked again if I would do it again. I understood what he was really asking, and told him that I would, under the right circumstances, and that he would be someone I would be willing to do it with if those circumstances came together. He looked satisfied, and maybe a little relieved, with that answer. We said we'd get together again soon, shook hands and said our goodbyes.