Forest from the trees

I went for a walk a week ago,
I struggled to find my way back home,
I'm home now,
Safe, but not sound...

Belle Sucre...

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Dream Catcher

 Understanding your dreams can greatly increase your knowledge of yourself and your life. However, interpreting your own dreams is very difficult because you will subconsciously skew the analysis towards what you want it to mean instead of what it actually means. Have you ever woken up from a really sweet dream and wished you knew what it meant? Of course, Einstein. Everyone has. I have a splendid idea send me your dream and I'll interpret it. I'll put the best ones on this page for other people to read.


guilty_pleasure2010
Sent: Thursday, September 5, 2010 3:55 PM
To: sweeetmelody@gmail.com
Subject: My Dream


My boyfriend and I have been together for a year and we’ve never had sex yet. However, last night I dreamed of boning a friend whom I find very attractive. In the dream he had a bigger penis than my boyfriend, and I kissed his penis. The dream was so real and I feel guilty whenever I think about it, but it keeps popping into my mind: So what does this mean please?


Please interpret this, I have no idea what the hell is wrong with me.

Best answer - You already admitted that you never engaged in sex with your boyfriend. That means you have the urge but not used it. However, as you thought about this attractive fellow, you dreamed having sex with him. Don't fight the feelings.No you will have sex with him someday. But you will be fine, it is only a dream.  Don't forget, it appears that you could use some sex. Plus admittedly your "dream man" has abigger penis? Very normal and very common. All is well!

sweeetmelody@gmail.com < sweeetmelody@ gmail.com >
Sent: Thursday, September 7, 2010 1:55 A.M
To: sweeetmelody@gmail.com
Subject: My Dream is...


There is this guy I feel virtually attracted to. I want him? I never met him or touched him. I see him in my dreams all the time. In my dream he rejects me. I gracefully accept his invitation to get lost. That is always when I wake up from this nightmare. Sad but true.


Please do not misinterpret this; I have a great idea that I should write or call him. I want to talk to him, what the hell is wrong with me??? He needs to know that I’m dreaming of his penis or at least know that I dream of him. But to be honest it's his intellect I dream about.... "Well maybe his penis a little bit".

Best answer - No comment.

If You're Like Me You Probably Suck At Relationships

Raise your hand if you've ever been in a relationship. Now lower your hand if that relationship wasn't with another person. Now lower it if the other person was a member of your own family, you sick bastard. Now lower your hand if you are currently in a relationship that has lasted more than 3 days. If your hand is still up, you probably suck at being in a relationship. If it's not up, you may suck at it anyway. Now I know what you're thinking: you're thinking "you don't know me, who the heck are you to tell me I'm bad at being a boyfriend or girlfriend?" Well, first of all, if you don't know whether you're a boyfriend or a girlfriend you're already in serious trouble. That aside, however, you suck at it because nobody's ever told you how to not suck at it. Until now. The key to a healthy relationship, professionals will tell you, is communication. They are half right. The other half is what I'm going to start with, which is knowing when to keep that fly-trap of yours shut, and when to nut up and take responsibility for fucking up. I'll begin with an example from my own life. I recently made two serious mistakes with my boyfriend in under a week. The end result? No change at all, because I'm not a moron. Guys, when you screw up with your us there are three things you can do. You can try to shift responsibility to her, you can try to minimize its importance, or you can be a fucking man, stand up, and apologize. If you do the first, you're giving her the right to slap you in the face with a waffle iron for being far too stupid for anyone's good. If you're a good boyfriend, you know enough to shut the hell up when she's telling you what you did wrong, and if she's right then you apologize for it and make a mental note to not do that thing again. Incidentally, apologizing is often followed by makeup sex, so even if you didn't screw up it's sometimes worth apologizing anyway, but you didn't hear that from me. When I screwed up, and he told me what I'd done and why he was upset, there were several places where I could have said things like "but if you were done anyway, what's the problem?" or "but I was doing it" or "I swear that reminds me of KY Jelly." I didn't say those though, because that would have been me trying to play down the importance of him being hurt. Instead I thought about it, realized that it was an ass thing for me to do, and I apologized for it. Then voila sex. See how easy that is? No. If you don't close the page and discontinue your internet service.NOW.Do it. Now, the other side of this is when your girlfriend thinks you screwed up, and you know you did. In that case you look at what you did, ask for her forgivness, realize you didn't do anything wrong after all, and say so. Because under your breath that what you fellas think and say. Women, if your guy does that, it's your job to decide whether you're the one who needs to apologize (but it's never our fault, which, again, is often followed by sex) for accusing him. If neither of you think you should apologize, then whichever of you doesn't really care about the outcome should give in, because it's clearly not important to the other person, but *note: Sex. Of course this goes both ways as well. Ladies, if your guy is upset because you're doing something inconsiderate or rude or selfish or whatever else, the same rules apply, and it's also an not a good move for you guys to say we're screwing up when we're not. The blade cuts one way, just like relationships do. We all know this by now. So think think think. Now, back to communication. We all need to know when to shut up, but we also need to know when not to stay quiet. I know someone who almost lost her family because she and her husband weren't communicating well. You want to know what happened to her? She bent over and admitted her part in it, and they're doing fine now. Thanks to that 3 letter word sex. If you want to be happy in your relationship, and there's something stopping you from doing that, then tell the other person what's wrong so they can fucking fix it! And if you're happy in your relationship but you suspect your partner may not be, ask them what's wrong, because if you don't know about it you can't help. If you are unhappy in your relationship and your partner doesn't know it, it's your own damn fault for sucking at it.

PERFECTION!

  I do believe I've found the secret to a perfect relationship – have four lovers! Fabulous!

Now I’ve been thinking (which could be viewed as a dangerous thing) sharing my life with one other man is too much for me to cope with. When my boyfriend of four glorious months dumped me I figured it all out.

So last night just as I was about drift off to la-la-land, I climbed under the duvet with my eyes wide open I began dreaming. Dreaming that I had four - yes, four - of my dream lovers in bed with me.

Why be alone? Why settle for being with one man? I am no longer interested in being a one-man woman...far from it. My complex love life has somehow been mind-boggling tangle of complicated bullshit with men. Hey: "Guess what? The best part about the deal is I don't have deal with them one at a time. They can hash it out amongst themselves. I'll just deflower a lot of guys." As if. I heard real men like dirty girls in bed, so I'm going practice being a real dirty. To hell with charm school. Little did my mother know she was wasting my father’s hard earned money, because all I learnt in charm school was how to charm men out of their underpants and straight into my bed. So today it goes something to this effect...

"Baby I find that the more I love, the greater my capacity to extend love. When I care for someone, I want my lover to share me with someone else to show how open-minded couple we are. And what a loving trusting relationship we have. Because you realize it's unnatural to expect one woman to be able to give you everything your heart needs."

And share I do. Currently I'm seeing seven people at the same time. Tiring? Stressful? Not as far as I'm concerned. Why devote my time with one guy when I can have seven. Wait wait wait...It's eight because I think messing with your Ex counts. So that number has just jumped to eight. Besides why have a boyfriend when I can do as many as I want including my Ex. Think about it. No don't it's a messed up thing.

It was just the other day when I spotted a gorgeous stranger walking down the street. I just knew I had to be with that person. (After all I've been single for a few months since splitting with my former, my ego is slightly bruised) so I nervously stopped my car and introduced myself and then said: Can I give you a drive? Get in. He jumped in. He shook my hand, bat his eyelashes, ran his hand through is hair. I could tell he was one of those touchy-feely types. After the pleasantries I cut –to - the - chase “Hey yah wanna fuck?” I have a few minutes before I write my exam…. He was way too hot and I didn't want to forsake the other seven in my harem, so I took a pass. Next time it won't be so...

It's an unusual set-up, but one which works for all concerned. I know it seems strange to most people, but I don't believe monogamous relationships are natural. Why love one guy or girl and get your heart ripped out of it's packaging? Why.

Maybe this is will provide a fascinating insight into the extraordinary world of, the practice of being in more than one intimate relationship at a time with full consent on all sides. Unlike polygamy - which refers to multiple marriages, and usually involves several wives sharing one man. For the record I’m not marrying anyone.

So you might be reading this, and thinking the situation may seem like a potential breeding ground for resentment and jealousy. But I’m talking about cerebral, attractive, classy, hot horny horny men. [Roll eyes]I insist there is no rivalry. None whatsoever.

No one believes me when I say arguments never crop up, but they don't. If anyone felt jealous, we'd talk it through. I have one rule: NO fighting. If someone feels left out, they must say so. That way we can change things."

Love is one woman, four men and a bed built for five .A one-to-one relationship wouldn't work for me. At least not anymore. This arrangement makes me happy. Sex with a man is like a big showy thunderstorm. But these days sex with myself is like an ocean - there's a depth and subtlety that doesn't exist with anyone else." I can't imagine life any other way.

FAITH LEAPED...

When to temple today. Pretty uneventful. Met some very kool people I actually liked. So next week I 'm invited out to their stables to ride one of their horse, break some bread ,and wash it down with some wine... mmmm yummy I can't wait. I hope my helmet arrives this week.

Reconnected with an old Gal-Pal. I read her the riot act.I think I may have fucked here ears  for two hours but lets face it I had a lot I needed her to know. I had a lot of questions for her.  Plus I mainly called to say: "How fucking dare you forget about me" but when I heard her voice I actually felt relieved. Relieved that I didn't have to send out the tracking dogs to find her AGAIN. For the most part she's fairly stable in all facets of her life except she enjoys moving without a forwarding address. She's done it twice in past 10 years and I hate not knowing. I liken it to when people ask ..."You didn't see that coming?" Well no Baby Einstein - if I did I would have gotten out of the way dumbass. Seriously she can pack up and without warning poof  be gone. I guess it proofs that we are social primates and we need each other no what we might think do and or say. In totality it turned out to be quite an credible conversation. 
I'm too tired I will expound on this later....

GRAND DIGG

Every woman holds an image in her mental wallet of what her perfect lover looks like, and she may spend more than a little alone time playing out a chance meeting with him in her head. Several months ago, while browsing t a dating site, I found my fantasy guy. Dark hair, dark eyes - he was a high - rise of a man, standing a good 5’11 inches taller than my 5'9'' frame. Even under a long sleeved shirt, he had arms that I knew could toss me into the heavens. He was the handsomest man I had ever seen. I was in love. I mean lust. Whatever. Somethings simply defy logic.

I vaguely remember him introducing himself. What I do remember is this: The attraction was mutual, palpable, and instantaneous. We shared some light food, a glass of wine. After several hours of talking, we exchanged numbers.

We spent the next few days talking backgrounds, light flirting, and, eventually, arranging to meet. I couldn’t get him off my mind. I couldn’t wait to see this sexy creature again. Each time I spoke to him my body trembled like a scared child. My words were incoherent and shaky. This eventually passed.

I went to see him. The drive seemed long but in retrospect it was my desire to see him that was longing. Time morphed into walk on the beach, I held his hand, it felt so safe. We dug clams for the feast, then dinner. We walked to the top of the sprawling acres of his property. There we had clams, wine and greens. I had no other place to go, really. At some point it occurred to me that I wanted to kiss him. I offered and even though he was shy he gracefully accepted my offer.

I'd never done anything like that before. Truth is, I probably wanted him more than I had even realized. I didn’t think any less of myself for admitting I was human. But I'd said it, couldn't take it back, and didn't want to. After a few moments of delicious kissing it was getting dark. We hit the pathway back to his abode.

When we finally arrived back at the house I had second thoughts about staying. Looking back I’m glad I did. I kissed him most of the night into the wee hours of the morning and much of the next day. There was no real discussion. I wrestled with him throughout the night trying to keep chastity in place. Yah right! It was a hot summer day. We were also hot. We fondled each others bodies the whole day. The room was small and dirty. Our clothes were trewn all over the small room. We didn't care we were studing each other. Hours passed like seconds. We were practically sustaining ourselves by drinking water and eating honey and some fruits and cereal which we shared. I'm still not sure if we were trying to tell each other something but I was in a certain comfort zone. I knew I had made the right decision.

Talking about sex earlier in the day, it turned out, was the best kind of foreplay. And in the hours that followed, he proved himself a great listener. I wanted to be told what to do by a partner who was physically strong enough to throw me around a little and wasn't afraid of saying what he wanted, accidental noises, rug burns, muscle aches, or sweat. Arms were held back, legs moved up, bodies flipped, turned, licked, and tucked. It was furious and unforgettable.

While we do not see each other as often anymore I'd like to do over. I miss him. I want him. I made some obvious mistakes. I errect no defense. These days he's busy and so am I. But maybe I will call to say hello today! Who knows what can happen.

I USE TO THINK BIRTHDAYS SUCKED!

The last few years I developed a thinking that birthdays sucked. Especially because my mother is not right here to celebrate with me. Maybe selfish in my thinking but ask if I care? I don't! To me birthdays are simply what the name says: Birth Day!!! That day commenced with my mother me and g-d. My father was not there. (He was gallivanting somewhere in the world.) Anyhow as I was saying that day was fully realized by my mothers sheer will to reproduce an image of her.

Sometimes I wish nobody in the world would care about birthday’s period. They might be fun, they may be 'special', and people might give you gifts. But I find birthdays (apart from mine, obviously) very irritating.

Because it's so tough to remember! I can say for a fact, that I forget at least two of four birthdays every year, among the people I know quite well. And then when it hits you that you've forgotten somebody's birthday, you feel all guilty and miserable inside. I just hate it. And I don't know how to talk to that person afterwards or what to say, etc.

The other reason (most will agree) because it's so tough to choose gifts! I mean, when you want to gift someone very close to you, friend or family, it's so hard to come up with an idea. You may love that person or you may just want to give something for the sake of it, doesn't matter. Gifts are gifts. So many times, my friends and me have wasted hours and yet come up with nothing to gift another friend. The fact that I find shopping a waste of time adds to my pain.

I use to say “Once you're born, forget the date!” I figure if we just remember that you were born - in that month, that year all is good. Special occasions like Christmas, Chanukah, Oman, and all the other things are perfect. Because the whole world celebrate them on the same day and hence you won’t forget. You can gift somebody something on those days.

Sigh.. As you might've guessed I forgot a couple of birthdays this year. (I know, I know. Birthdays will remain for a long long time. And if my memory's not going to be apart of the equation why be involved. I better do something about it.

Now let’s get specifical why I’m writing here. A few days ago I celebrated my birthday and it was AWESOME. Two weeks prior to my birthday one of my friend who se birthday is close to mine had a huge birthday bash at one of the local restaurants. It was to celebrate both of our birthdays. Combined effort I call that. It was a surprise for me to walk in and see my friends and acquaintances. Wow! This was nice. (Actually I hate nice. Being nice is like being prudent. And I hope never to be prudent. 'Nice' is the sloppiest adjective in the whole book. I could live my life nicely without 'nice'. Bill Shakespeare used 'nice' to mean correct, fitting, proper, poetically a good connection, and thus forth. Right now it means 'a nice car', 'a nice ice-cream', 'a nice ass on that chick...' It is a word which deserves to disappear. Soon. To hell with nice.) And who ever sat up one day and said: “Hey I have a great idea, lets surprise someone by throwing them a birthday party.” Ummm! What if the surprise is on them and I didn’t show up? I did because I am nice.

Last weekend my friends Rob and Kim hosted my birthday party. It was crazy fun. We cooked, we ate, we drank, we sang songs, we danced, we laughed we hollered at the moon, we walked we ate some more, we kissed; we drank some more we crashed. It’s was one of those weekends you don’t want to end. I saw people I hadn’t seen since my stroke. Most everyone had time off or on vacation so we turned out to be a super long weekend. Mostly because we didn’t know when we would see each other again. Can you say hung-over…

My actual birthday was the perfect day if there ever was such a day. I woke up at 7am.Way too early since the night before was complete mayhem with the flood of calls. Got dressed and headed into town for what I consider to be the best way to kick-off to a birthday. The Spa. It was delicious, delightful, delectable. In other words yummy! I love that sort of thing. Five minutes into the facial I could feel by body totally relaxing to point where if I were ice cream I would melt all over her hands and onto the floor forming a sticky puddle. Ten minutes I was slightly snoring. It’s a unique thing because as soon as the facial is over I knew it and I was awake.

Then came the Pièce de résistance…the massage. So there I was again just a puddle of flesh in her hands. She had me cooing and oooing. G-d I was in heaven and she knew she had me. I was out like a burnt out street lamp. Gone again. When I emerge I felt so alive rejuvenated and completely fresh. That lasted three and half hours. Best part is it was a gift.

I stepped out into the world feeling brand new. I got into my car and drove home humming the tune that was in my head. Even the muddy river somehow looked good that day! Why was that? Again I was having an epiphany that would change the course of this day. Maybe the notion that birthdays suck is really rather negative and I must get a new perspective. I did.

My former mother-in-law called almost as soon as I walked in the door and said where have you been? I’ve been calling for a week now. Get dressed we’re going for lunch. I thankfully said: Hell yea! With the help of my assistant I quickly dressed and out the door. Lunch was great. My former mother –in-law is great too. I love her and she loves me. The rest is history.

After lunch we headed back to my humble abode. I opened my gift she brought. No real surprise there because she always gives money. I am grateful for ANY money I receive. Thoughtless gifts not so much. We said our good-byes and she was on her way.

While I was on the telephone with my sisters there was a knock on door. Low and behold flower delivery. I really was surprised. I was laughing out loud because this was rare. I use to get flowers at the door but it had been so long I forgot what that felt like. My heart was beating and my mind was racing. Who could have been so thoughtful? After all there was not only one delivery; there were two in one day. These were not just the run-a-the mill flowers. These were massive arrangements of everything exotic. I put my sister on the speaker phone and said talk to me while I read the cards. Ha ha ha ha ha…both my mother and my sisters had sent me flowers on the same day from the same place. It was beautiful. The second delivery came from an unlikely source. I gracefully accepted.

I was overwhelmed. I realized that birthdays are ‘special’ no matter how old you are. I love birthdays so much I'd like to be born again. So THAAAANK YOOOOUUUU to everyone for the gifts and cards! I love all of them and am using them already.

Cooking night / Big party in Eglin

Does it look kinda disgusting? It’s tasty butter bean and chorizo salad.

Butter beans are actually lima beans.

Those fuckers tricked me! The chorizo was veggie.

Kim is writing a cookbook and she wanted me to take photos.

I asked how much cleavage she wanted in the shots,

and she said enough to make her book a bestseller.

Birthday bbq goes up in flames

Happy Rob serves up gourmet burgers...yum yum

People ate the food.

People stood around and had a party

Seth is jumping for joy

Couch potatoes: Mike Angella Vince

This is my new friend Andrea.

She’s smart, fun, cute and always says yes to adventure.

There was crazy sleepover / brunch the next day action.

That’s Hanna! She moved here from Toronto!

Check out the stylish ladies in Elgin!:

Cheerful Cindy

Boom! I’was cured, no water will seem cold to me for the rest of the summer!

Elgin is all right. Gordon Falls it picturesque in the morning.

It’s like deep mountainous woods, but only 40 minutes from Moncton Maybe I’ll raise kids there.

Stay tuned for a post about how I like Elgin now and don’t just say that to console myself.

GOODBYE

The Torah lays out that when a Jewish person dies they must be buried within 24-48 hours absolute maximum. There are many reason but I am not going to discuss that because its irrelevant, but that is just how it is. Even though it's the 21st cwntury makes no difference.

Lastnight I barely slept. I spent the better part of the night talking to friends back home and in the USA. When I said goodbye to my friends it was around 3: 20. I must have fallen asleep at some point. Hard to say what time. Woke up this morning at 6:15 feeling forelorn and extremely lonely. I had a dilema. A decision to make. I was thinking that perhaps the right thing to do was to catch a flight (even if it were just one day) to pay my respect to Danny but also to his family. Sending flowers is a nice thing when the person is alive but it is an unacceptable standard in death. Bugger bugger bugger...fuck fuck fuck.  The heartfelt sorrow seems too much to bear today.

I learnt from my mother that my sister who resides in the USA will be taking the trip today to say goodbye on behalf of my family. Overall it changes nothing in my books. My mind is winding like the hand of a clock spining backwards out of control. All I want to do is hurl... I can't get this out of me. I want to run and scream. I want to get into my car and drive really far to nowhere just drive, ALONE.

What is it about dying that makes it difficult to comprehend. I mean I use to always say "There were two things in life that are for sure. You are born and then you die." Then why am I feeling so miserable today? Is it that I have been punched in my heart by my own words? Is it that I really cannot come to grips with my own emotions after all the years of missing him and now he's gone forever? Somehow it seems so unreal. Danny use to always tell me that is was never goodbye. He always said we'll talk soon. He flatly resused to say that word. Maybe the truth lies in the fact that it is goodbye.

But today it really is goodbye my lovely dove.

TIE ONE ON

It's been years since I've been invited to a formal party. A "black and white" party is a very formal event where everyone dresses up. But when DINKS (dual income no kids) put on a formal party, it's basically a party where by the end of the evening they destroy expensive suits.

There was one of these parties last night. I was invited and I went. And going to this party lead me to having the worst, most painful feeling I've ever had. Slight exaggeration but close enough…

There was a guy. Of course it involves a guy. I picked him out right away as being the most gorgeous guy I'd seen in a long time. Although he wasn't blatantly flirtatious with me, throughout the course of the party he made it clear and apparent that he wanted everything to do with my butterfly.

Toward the end of the night, he asked if I'd drive him to his car. I was way too inebriated to drive, but I said yes. On the way there, he talked a lot. I don't remember much of it because it was drizzling so I was thinking more about getting to the car than anything else. I think he tried to give me a kiss. Either that or he accidentally dropped his mouth while it was still attached to his face. But I refused because I was busy staying alive. I did hold his hand though to defuse the situation.

We got to the place where his car was. He got his key, opened my door, and asked, "Wanna follow me home?" And it was so excellently sexy. If you can relate this experience in any way, you'll know that it is probably the best feeling in the world. This feeling is the sole reason why parties exist.

I got in my car and followed him. He changed lanes, I followed. A car cut in front of me. He turned, and then changed lanes again, I followed. The red lights refracting off the windshield blurred together. His tail lights were like the eyes of hope looking back at me. He turned again. I followed. I think. I saw a blinker somewhere. I turned in the general area of the blinker. The road was dark. He was gone. The eyes had shut. I was alone.

If you can relate to this experience, you'll probably know that it is the worst feeling in the world. This feeling is the sole reason why psychologist exists.

I was about to get out of the car, drop to my knees, and cry his name while screaming, "Why? Why?" And eat mud and rub it all over myself. But I didn't do any of that, because I forgot his name. And it'd be embarrassing if I was on my knees passionately balling, "Oh brown hair man from the party? Why!? Oh where are you, the tall dark brown hair man with possibly too much cologne? Whyyyy?"

I stopped the car and turned off the engine. It was miserable. That was the worst, saddest, and most helpless I've ever felt. So I took a deep breath and thoroughly assessed my situation. And by assessing my situation, I mean pulling my dress up and had a romantic moment with my butterfly.

In retrospect, I did a few things wrong. These mistakes in a story generally are called morals. Here are the morals of this story.

1. If you meet a guy at a party, always bang him as quickly and close-by as possible. Never follow him home. No matter how drunk either of you are, find someplace nearby.

2. If you're driving a guy somewhere and he tries to kiss you, take it. It might be your only chance. If you don't take it, you might end up like me - lost and alone.

3. Never wear too much cologne. That's what makes girls want to follow you home. Help us both out and don't do that. And don't wear ugly shoes to a formal party. Girls can tell the difference between a Boat shoes and Good Italian leather shoes. You're better off putting plastic bags around your feet.

5. A "black and white" party does not mean everyone speaks in absolutes. And this is not in opposition to a Shades of Black or Blue Club where everyone is undecided and dithering.

5a. Always keep Kleenex in your glove compartment in case you get p***y blocked by global warming.

That's all. Take it or leave it. I'm going to go into my room and assess my situation some more.

UNDERLYING REASON WHY I WANT A BOYFRIEND

#10. So I have someone to share intimate thoughts and secrets with.


#9. So I have someone honest and forgiving in my life.


#8. So I can split a one-room apartment for $100/mo because spending $1000 each month to sleep and cook canned soup is bullshit.


#7. So I have someone to hang out with other than my penisless friends.


Also I have something to do when while waiting for Desperate Housewives to come on.


#6. So I have something "real" to blame my problems on.


#5. So I have someone to consistently dislike on a daily basis.


#4. So my less intelligent friends don't feel justified complaining about their boyfriends on the grounds that I don't "understand" because I don't have one, and then refusing to take my brilliantly crafted advice because somehow it's not relevant because I'm single and no single person could ever possibly have any understanding of relationships or the human condition. What's with people who ask for advice, and then don't take it? It's insulting. And it's not even relationship advice. You'll go to a restaurant with them, and they'll ask the waitress, "Is the fish and chips any good?" Of course the waitress replies, "Yes, it's excellent." Then your friend goes, "Ok. I'll have a hot soggy turkey sandwich." What the fuck were they asking for? Did the waitress give the wrong answer? Was my friend hoping the fish and chips was lousy? "Hi, I'll have the fish and chips, but only if it's rancid." People are WEIRD.


#3. Because boyfriends do stupid stuff all the time and it's fun to laugh at even though I think it's sad and pathetic. And also because guys find girls in relationships more attractive.


#2. So when I'm having a crappy day, I can make his life miserable by whining and sulking.


#1. So I have someone to have cybersex with.


-#10. So when I'm at a nightclub and can't find a guy to taunt, tease and tear off my panties, I have a backup plan.


-#9. So when I f@#K him, I can use a hidden camera. I've always wanted to do this with a guy. And he'll be like, "Oh! Baby! What the fuck are you shoving up my butt?" And I'll be like, "It's a hidden camera! Look! Now it's hidden, now it's not... Now it's hidden, now it's not!" And we'll have a few laughs and a torn butt@#
$l and then break up and I'll be back to where I am now - wishing I had something even though I know for a fact that I don't want it.


-#8. Apparently if one falls in love, one loses. And I have lost a lot in a short time but I'm curious to see how it feels again so I want one.


-#7. So I can practice lying.


-#6. So I can practice cheating although I've never done it, I want to hone my skills. And I heard the most exciting way to do this is to get a boyfriend first.


-#5.


-#4.

-#3.


-#2.

-#1.


I ran out of ideas but when I think of something I'll update. Too bad I disabled comments because I could use some suggestions. Anyhow, you get the jest.

You like having fun? Me too!

I found the perfect man online. He enjoys having fun, I like having fun. He likes watching movies, I like watching movies. He likes listening to music, and wouldn’t you know it I can’t live without music, I just love music. He enjoys long walks on beach holding hands, I enjoy long walks on beach holding hands. Loves cuddling on the sofa and kissing, I like cuddling on the sofa and kissing too. He loves travel, gourmet cuisine, literature, poetry….He absolutely loves himself, I’m narcissistic too. I like all of those things too! We're obviously a perfect match because nobody else could possibly enjoy music and fun. There is just no way can any guy be quite as unique and cultured as this one. He has a very descriptive profile that accents his intellect and incredible individuality:

Basics: Stallion69

“hey girls i’m just looking for that girl I can be friends with and maybe more”

That's interesting because most guys are looking for a girl who can cook clean iron your shirt, get you a beer, have a job, and take care of the children Of course, this is what he's really saying:

Basics: “if i said i’m looking for a slave girlfriend/wife that would mean i want sex and i don’t want you ladies to think that i’m a manwhore. if i say i’m looking for just a friend, people will only want to be my friend and that won’t work for me because i want sex, sex, sex.

I like a guy who can cover up his sluttiness with such elegance and style but still manage to say something brilliant and intriguing. Here are some more amazing highlights:

Basics: “i love hanging out with my friends and partying with them…i love watchin movies of all kinds sports readin and havin fun fun fun…i’m outgoin, openminded person but i have a shy side…lol he he he he”

First things first, I really hate that lol he he crap so just cut it out ok Romeo. It's not cute under your circumstances. Also mine for that matter.

Outgoing with a shy side? That's great because most guys aren't shy or self-conscious at all. Whenever I meet a guy for the first time, they tell me all of their deepest secrets about their penis and inner organ (tongue) and what not. It's quite a put off and I wish more guys were outgoing with a shy side. The "havin fun" trait really turns me on. I'm tired of guys asking me, "Hey Cj wanna go stare at a wall?" I like this one because he seeks entertainment and that's abnormal and mysterious.

Favourite things: “well my favourite things would be listenin to music watchin movies, hangin out with my friendz ummmm drivin around in my red shiny corvette with the music blastin ummm the music, drinkin and thatz about it”

He likes listening to music. ME TOO! I love music! Holy cow, this is incredible. It's like I'm reading my own profile! G-d forbid, he even enjoys hanging out with friends. Most guys I've met only hang out with their enemies. This is truly my dream guy.

About me and dream date:

“i am searching for a woman who is caring sensitive smart hot faithful, honest. i will not tolerate a cheater or a slut liar. i just want a normal girl to have fun fun fun with and get to know after.”

After WHAT?

While most girls are looking for that stupid, insensitive type who cheats and lies, this guy is the opposite. I'm sick of my gal - pals telling me to sleep around behind their back. It gets boring. I say to them, "Honey, I love you so much and would never dream of being with anyone else." That pisses them off and they yell at me, are you nuts? "Why are you being so sensitive and smart? Hit yourself in the head with a brick because I want a retarded boyfriend who fucks other women and beats the living piss out of me in front of my friends."

Music, movies, monogamy... I couldn't possibly find anyone as extraordinary and I can't see myself with any other guy. I sure hope he finds my site and falls in love with me. What an exotic pair of thrillseekers we will be - watching movies, listening to music, and hanging out with friends. If you're the guy I'm talking about, email me right now because you are the one and I will spend my entire life finding you. I've attached my email so you can  copy and paste it without having to think ok babe.
funfunfun@hotfemale.com

My Contribution....

To be a famous scientist, one needs a catchy equation or theory associated with their name. When you think "Einstein", you say "E=MC squared" That's what makes him so famous. Newton is well-known for stating the extremely poetic phrase, "For every action, there is an equal or opposite reaction." Plus, he was named after a cookie.

With these thoughts in mind, I spent a few weeks drawing nothing but blanks. At first I thought about changing my name from Jasmine to Flower, but that didn't fly with my mom. Then, one magical night as I was boning my former, it dawned on me that nobody truly understood the mathematics involved with sex. I thought it was absurd that the two coolest things on the planet hadn't been linked together yet. "Hmm," I thought, "Being both a sex goddess and a math guru, finding that connection should be easy for me."
And it was. I threw him off, grabbed a pen, and wrote this formula down on his butt cheek:

There you have it: sex equals fun. Damn, I'm a genius. I should get a full ride scholarship to Harvard. That, or the Playgirl Mansion, either one is okay with me. Actually, I'd probably go with Playgirl if they both offered at the same time, but Harvard would be alright too. Do they actually have a Playgirl Mansion? They must…

BACHELOR DEGREE

When you think it's just about over it never truly is. So I wrote one exam today and it went seeminly well. Then I learnt I must write the next within ten days. Which means I don't get to scratch my rear end. What it really means is if look up form my book even for a second, some curse is going to get me. For example lets take Nobert here if I just stare at him forever why the hell do I need a Bachelors degree. He has earned his Masters degree and I already have a Bachelors. He a bachelor and I'm a bachelorette with that combonation we have earned a PhD. Afterall who wants to do homework when Norbert is coming to town to celebrate my birthday this weekend. I'll just have do a different kind of studying but not the kind common to writing an exam. Just my luck. What's a girl to do???

LOVE LUST DEBAUCHERY

Loving, cherishing and celebrating ex-lovers is an unpopular phenomenon that completely and utterly blows my skirt up. And it’s a phenomenon in which nowadays many appreciate but not me. We often see and experience break-ups that end in malice and with hard feelings. I said some things, he said some things but in the end I have to believe we were both hurt by things said. I don’t need to cite any examples, as I’m sure we all know of plenty.

But as unpleasant as this may be, I cannot justify or entertain the transition from love to hate. They say the line between love and hate is only thin when there was no love to begin with. I only hold love in my heart when I smile upon the memories of my ex-lover. I can truly appreciate the learning experiences of these journeys and the tiny connection that we shared.

When I love someone, I find that it is a merging of lives at some level. When you part ways, I find that this merging doesn’t fully come undone; instead, I enjoy keeping in touch and exploring our connection in a different context. If someone played any role in my experience on this Earth, I don’t think that I’d want to write them out of my life forever unless the relationship was truly toxic. It really wasn’t.

The weeks that passed in many ways felt like I had graduated from the feelings of missing him and I didn’t really love him. I was literally a new woman; incapable of seeing life the way I had previously. I had undergone the most radical, holistic, and spiritual rebirth anyone could imagine. It was intense but worth the time and the painful truth.

My mother and close friends couldn’t relate to me any more and I felt myself drifting away from them like insignificant acquaintances, making way for a new set of rules and friends who vibrated on a higher plane. It was a plane I hadn’t even known existed months ago, one I couldn’t grasp or conceive of until I met my therapist.

Leaving what I would call a healthy marriage and venturing into the unknown was scary but I was up for the challenge. And now this new found love was going to challenge me further and boy I was ready. Change was still a little scary for me but I knew that I was better prepared to face the unknown than I had ever been before in my life. When I shut the door to the therapist office, I knew I was shutting the door on my thoughts of wanting to use sex to numb the pain of my insecurities, of projecting my lust onto men and expecting them to conform to my distorted view. It was only after 8 very intense weeks of radical therapy that I took responsibility for my emotions, owned them, and didn’t try to hide from them in a blur of irrational and immature behaviour that made excuses for my new dysfunction. I couldn’t look at men the same way because I was a new woman.

After each secession as I would drive home I was relinquishing my fears and embracing my future. My old self would have seen this as an excuse to celebrate by getting tipsy and waking up the next day with fuzzy memories and regrets.

Instead I stopped off at WalMart to see if I could get some things to help me organize my closet.

But this is where things take a turn in the wrong direction. I called my former lover one night because I truly missed him. We continued to exchange pleasantries. He referred to my cry for his affection as a 'booty call'. I never could figure out why he would regard my passion and deep affection for him in such a manner. I was so proud of myself for not making crude, sexual jokes even at a time li it felt natural. The truth is I wanted to feel him deep within the depths of me. I wanted to taste his sweet nectar. I wanted his scent all over me.

I made plans to call the next day, and I called. I called around supper time to see what we would like to eat that evening. True to my word, I came bearing gifts. I greeted him with a big huge smile like he was a long lost friend. I was confident that there was a connection that couldn’t be denied. It was a relationship that had potential; there was an undeniable heat that was smouldering between us. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed his mouth softly. I could feel the divided mounts. I felt his wrath that was upon me. I had butterflies in my stomach and my knees were weak. It was like my first kiss ever. I heard HIS whisper like music to my ears. The thought of him on my body, made my brown skin glow. The sheets were fresh and he helped to undress me. I laid down on the bed and it was all I could do to keep from hyperventilating. All I was thinking at that point is “Stay with me, don’t leave me” as I spread my legs and invited him to reside in me.

His skin next to mine was like heaven. I wrapped my legs around him and felt like I was in a cocoon of sweet masculinity. His dick was as hard as a rock and I was grinding my body against him, making him dizzy with sensations.

It was important for me to take things slowly, to give him great pleasure. I wanted to re-learn his body, to let go of everything I’d learned in the past to experience making love with him, as if it was my first time. I could feel the heat from his body scorching me; I wanted him to be inside me in a way I’d never felt before. It was an overwhelming desire to reconnect to him. He began sucking my hardened nipples. I kissed my way down his body, licking his tummy and down my way to his manhood. He slid my panties down my legs and stared at my butterfly. My wings opened sensually and seemed to be calling to him. He lowered his hand and began gently penetrating at her flowing juices. My tongue softly licked his sweetness tasting his sweet wine and savouring his flavours.

Minutes passed like milliseconds I was desperate to have him inside me. My heart skipped a beat as he asked if I did not want him inside me. He took the head of his Penis and placed it  near my wings. The heat traveled from his body and into mine. My silky walls grabbed him and pulled him deeper. Our cries echoed out into the calm night sky. He was stroking me hard and I was meeting each thrust with passion. It was too intense. I couldn’t control myself. It had been many weeks. I needed to have him deep inside me, to fill me completely. He was, giving me pleasure like he’d never done before, and I experiencing pleasure in ways I’d never known were possible.

I was cumming all over him. My body was trembling and my juices were flowing freely. He concentrated and kept up his technique. He lowered my legs from his shoulders and gripped my hips tightly. The head of his penis was hitting bottom and he couldn’t stop his own orgasm from overtaking him. The cum in his nuts boiled up and exploded inside me as I held him tightly to my body.

We pulled the blanket over us still vibrating from the sweet essence of our lovemaking. I was in haven of romance and intimacy, one that we had created with our own mind and hands. My independence wasn’t threatening but I realized that was indicative of my own growth as woman and as a human being. I gave myself a passing grade on my life test and went on about my life feeling empowered

Eat Your Heart Out

Ok so I sent a message in a vacuum to see if my X wanted to celebrate Passover/Easter weekend together,eat some really nice food, (I was all too willing to prepare with the help of my personal assistant), sample some wine (four glasses preferbly but more if necessary), eat some sweets including me(food and sex go hand in hand for me)...hahaha, tell some funy silly stories even laugh at ourselves and just relax in general. My X has as much manners as a pig in his sty. He doesn't reply. When he does he uses the same format I use only because I remain convinced that he is a coward and lacks the substance to articulate clearly his expectations, needs wants and desires. Calling me is just way out of his relm. What did I ever see in him? What do I see now? Last evening at a dinner party I made mention of his name to someone I trust more than my mother for g-dsakes and without warning WHAM she slaps me with who is this guy? Before I could say one full sentence - she stops me dead in my tracks and says "You're not seeing him, we're going for a run instead - that is a dead issue, leave that alone it does not concern you anymore, forget it, do not call him ANYMORE, wtf is wrong with you she said, don't you get it - it's fucking over over over." So after a funfilled evening she drove me home. The drive was short, but the silence bore holes through me. I checked my messages to see if he replied to my offer to spend some Q time with me breaking bread. Ofcourse there was no response. I dry my eyes and head off to bed. Today I woke early with several things on my mind. 1) I knew I need to be alert for the confrence call that I was going to be having with my tutor and my Prof. at 8:30 a.m to iron the strategy for my upcoming final exam this week. 2) I was really hoping to get a message saying "Yes I think its a great idea to bread bread and drink some wine" but just as my pragmatic mind told, do not hold your breath you will die from the lack of air. For some it’s easier to accept than others. But I don’t think anyone enjoys being ignored. It's like a death occured.  The first few days I cried my heart out. I let out all of my negative feelings, and do almost nothing more all day than to "think about him". Whenever I try to slip in a positive thought, I’ll disregard it right away. It’s my privelege to be sad just a few days a year. Initially I thought it really important in this phase is that you don’t talk to anyone about the break up. At least not more than something like “we’re not together anymore”. I stopped listening to the radio, unplugged the television, because that will fuck with your emotions, and I was already fucked up so why bother.So I just let myself be as sad as I could, without talking to anyone, and without getting feelings from anyone else other than myrself(very important). I got to the point where I was sick thinking about him. I started realizing that he wasn’t "the one" for me, and that I have my whole life waiting, along with millions of cute guys. But the tricky part is the mind has a way of playing tricks on you. I did allow my human instint to get in the way after spending time ridding myself of the emotional baggage that came with this relationship.  I was fluctuating backwars and forward each day, but the crying is over. My heart has harden to its reality. Soon, I’ll meet another guy, twice as nice, and it’s all uphill from here with joy and happiness. So in conclusion I am taking my gal-pal advice and leave this alone. I am going to spend the weekend studying and will be cooking a feast for my girls. Besides they love and care for me. Added bonus, they love my cooking and they tell me so with all the ooos and ahhhhs, but they always ask when will we do this again. Life’s strange isn’t it?


Cheers

Hot Date...4/1/10

My friends and I are having dinner Thursday evening. Not only because they think I 'need' to get a life, but because they also feel I’m wasting my G-d given energy on someone who does not deserve a moment of my time. So my friend Paula, (Paula’s husband Steven) and Joanna (Joanna husband Constantine) collectively got together and planned a dinner party where I am the guest of honour. Since it’s a holiday they seem to feel it’s a great time to throw such a party where all invited guests would have no excuses but just show up. They have told me also that there will be several single suitors to choose from who are daring and want to meet me. Yikes!So now my stomach is doing that churning thing again. Not to mention the flutter of butterflies in my belly causing bouts of nausea. It’s a day away and I’m not sure what to wear. I could sabotage the entire evening and wear sweats, but that would be cheesy, plus my gal pals would not be amused. Apparently it’s going to formal and I was ordered to wear my Saturday best. In other words wear a dress and a smile. The part that I am excited about is not only do both those ladies have fabulous homes but Constantine is an amazing Chef. Food glorious food…sex of the aged…

Now I know many people would agree that dating, especially the first date is about as much fun as having a picnic in a minefield in Afghanistan. For some reason that no-one knows, to prove that we are one step above lowly animals, humans are required to date before choosing their life mate. For many, a date is synonymous with fornicate. Fornicating is a rather fun thing, something I welcome in the right situation. However, the words just rhyme, and don't necessary go hand in hand. Dating is a very painful process for someone like me. While I could decide to remain forever single and just hang out with a group of friends, I do want to eventually be in a permanent relationship. I liken dating to bungee jumping. You get that adrenalin rush when you meet someone new. It's the anxiety...uh...oh, um, maybe I didn't really like dating as much as I thought I did."

Contrary to popular belief, dating is not easier when you are younger, and dating doesn't get any easier as you get older. Let's cut to the chase and get down to the nitty gritty...What exactly is it about dating that I hate so much? Why does the very word fill me many with fear and trepidation? I got it... Maybe it’s because it reminds me of a job interview. That's probably quite close to the mark. I have to be on my best behaviour to try and impress the person across the table from me that I’m the right person for the job as life partner. And it's the same, if they don't like you, you don't get the job. If you don't like them or they make you feel uncomfortable, you don't take the job.

Dating is as uncomfortable as sitting next to a hugely obese man whose ample body overflows from his seat onto yours on a flight from Dubai to Shanghai, where if he isn't snoring loudly he's farting silently, and every time he lifts an arm you almost pass out from the reek of his armpit. Also its uncomfortable because you're having to move out of your comfort zone and enter unchartered territory and is an extremely daunting. I hate not knowing. Unless I become a psychic or a clairvoyant, I just will not get this knot out of my gut. And if I did know, then where is the anticipation or the surprise? Sometimes you have to just go with your gut instinct and take a chance. More often than not, I can't be bothered to share myself with anybody again. Yeah, yeah, same old, same old. It does get tiring telling the same stories and relating the same incidents over and over again. It is de-motivating to open yourself up again to someone, and risk them abusing your trust and all that openness was for nought.

Oh yeah I hate waiting for the phone to ring for a follow-up date, even if I don't want to see that person again. I am aware that men hate spending money on a girl and then she doesn't put out. Then not only does he feel he wasted his time, but his money as well. Oh well, I guess they'll just have to get someone who equates a date with sex. They think if they spend all their pocket money on a date then they'll be able to get your leg over your neck. I hate the falseness of it, and people being all fake to try and impress you. This is probably because people are uncertain of what they want, and what you're looking for. They take a gamble on what they think you might like, and try and change to be that person. It would be much better if they were just themselves.

Friends have told me of the mistakes I will never make. For example: "A good date with just a good bonk. They both felt that animal attraction and end up having the most mind-blowing passionate sex on the first date. Then, the guy never calls you back." Obviously, they were just looking to get laid and nothing more.

I console myself with the fact that thus far FATE has intervened and spared me from a probable psychopathic pathologically schizophrenic stalker rapist. Surely I can come up with a multitude of reasons but it is because it's a pain trying to feign interest in learning about someone else who doesn't really interest me. And of course you don't want to appear rude, but who gives a shit why their partner cheated on them and ditched them. So as I was composing this message I was taking stock of some of the irritants of dating, and why I just can't stand doing it....

• I really hate it when I can't get their name right on the first date. Okay, this is a bad mistake to make and maybe I need to make up a silly song with their name in it to get it committed to my memory. Calling a date by the wrong name is a faux pas of the tenth degree. I've done it and I highly do not recommend it especially if you like the date.

• I hate awkward silences when we both try and think of what you can say. If we’re having awkward silences, then we obviously don't have much in common.

• I hate being asked what are you thinking about. Find an online psychic course and you'll be able to tell what I’m thinking. You'll never be able to figure out what I’m really thinking, so why waste your energy trying to read my mind.

• I am never sure if I am reading the signals correctly, like does he want sex on the first date because he is paying for dinner. If he is I need to call my mother and sharpen my Houdini skills and make myself disappear, FAST!

• I never know when I should call him to thank him for a NOT so interesting evening but dinner was great. I just think it's a polite thing to do, especially if the getaway was quick. But if he calls within five minutes of leaving me is tantamount to stalking. And please do not inundate my inbox with text messages because for me that is definite passion killer.

• I hate blind dates, especially when people misrepresent themselves. Buffed body and intelligent can turn out to be geeky and weedy with an IQ the size of a retarded ant. Sometimes, friends misrepresent friends when they set you up on a blind date. There's also a hint of desperation in the whole blind date scenario. If they're so perfect, then why are they resorting to blind dates to get a date? Not that I'm not worthy but think on this for a second...  times up.

• I hate breaking the ice the first time by saying the wrong things and then feeling stupid afterwards. Like saying the most random things and many Freudian slips are made at times like these. I've called a date by my former husbands name...OPPS! Or like him catching me staring at his crotch or him at my mammary glands. Actually if I like the guy I find it sexy when he ogles my body.

• I hate it when other people show an interest in my date and start to flirt with them while I'm  standing right next to them, and your date likes it. If they're basking in the attention like a chimpanzee at a chimpanzee's tea party in the zoo, enjoy it for a New York minute because I will dump you right there and move on. Not classy. Don't do it. At least not with me.

• I hate saying goodbye at the end of the date, not knowing if he’s going to kiss on the cheek or lips or what. I typically go for the European double cheek kiss, and if they want 'lips on the mouth' type of kiss, then they can make the first move and latch onto my lips like there's a magnetic pull of some kind. But I better be feeling you otherwise this could spell rejection.

• I hate it when my date is trying to be funny to impress me and I find it hard to smile or laugh as what they said wasn't at all funny. If you can't make me genuinely laugh, I just dump him. Smiling falsely will give me serious wrinkles and will require me to have expensive plastic surgery in the future.

• I hate it when after dating for a while; my date loses their manners and farts and burps after drinking anything, especially beer. But I’m supposed to be pleased that they feel comfortable enough around me to show me the real deal. It’s offensive. Stop it.

• Dating is exhausting as smiling inanely hurts my face. As mentioned above, it is not good for your complexion and appearance and there will be long-term effects. Maybe a pharmaceutical company needs to develop a 'Dating Tonic' which serial daters can use to boost their body's energy levels.

In my view of the whole thing - dating sucks and I hate the thought of it. I’ve been wondering for some time now, is there another way to meet up with a life partner, other than going through the trials and tribulations of dating? Here's a thought. Let's look at animals, as humans are really just a slightly more advanced form of animal. Take dogs for instance. They don't date at all. When the bitch is ovulating, she gives off a scent that attracts every randy dog in the neighbourhood. She lifts her tail, the dogs sniff her posterior end, get an erection, mount her and bonk away until climax, then leave, never to see her again. Imagine, if we were like dogs. If some perfume factory managed to create a special scent called 'Ovulation Scent.' When a woman knew she was ovulating, she'd spray herself with Ovulation Scent and walk down the street. Soon, males from all over will be following her and only the strongest will get near her. He'd have to sniff her nether regions, whip out his erection and fornicate madly, before zipping up and going back to work. This could do wonders for the motel industry, in case people don't fancy just doing it on the street. Physiotherapists and masseuses will also make a fortune as many men will put their backs out when bending at the waist to sniff a woman. All this increased business - perfume companies, hotels and physiotherapists might also create more job opportunities and ease the global credit crisis. People will be more relaxed - women because they'll only be having sex when they're in the mood, and men - because they'll be getting plenty of action as they'll continually encounter women wearing 'Ovulation Scent.' This could be something to look for in the future.

 I''ll follow up laterif things go according to the above.  However, in an event things turn out GREAT, I will not be back because I never kiss and tell.

Deaf Ears

Ting!

To you, adored one ... Well spring of my loin desire, exquisitely souvenir of all my loves lunacy. Fuck you are one hot sexy thing. Shit - you are my all encompassing sexy things! I couldn't even stop thinking about you all day in my head. I tried to pass on to you that message. 'Jasmine' is a lovely name. A subtle perfume on the air of a warm and humid evening. From a small pink flower with dark green foliage. Perhaps that's the fragrance you can smell right now? Something whispered at me that "he thinks your slippery", and he wouldn't open the note from my trembling heart, trembling like a stabbed bird with my trapped desires for your elicit sweet sweet sugar words. But even I knew it was like some carelessly worded backhanded compliment- you knew what you meant to say. "Damn man - I dig your skinny ass, but bad!"