Jokes and Funny Stories Site

Will trade 12 week supply of Nicorette for cigarettes

2006-05-09T20:03:00.000-07:00

Spent all my money on Mint flavored Nicorette, will happily trade my 12 week supply (minus 1 tablet) for 2 or 3 packs ciggs, preferably Marlboro Lights, box pack. i'll travel to you.

Are you happy where you’re sleeping?

2006-04-19T10:37:00.000-07:00

I love my bed; there’s a great view, a fireplace, a beside table on each side, with cool books and sketch pads. The only problem is others don’t seem to know my bed exists. To wit: I’ve done a horrible job of marketing my bed. Sure, when a woman sees me on the street, she realizes on a super-subconscious level that I have a bed. But I kind of want some of the women I see on the street to actually come over and check my bed out, give it a test drive so to speak.

Now I have an open mind. I’m sure there are other great beds in the city and I would be willing to test drive other beds. My bed won’t be jealous, I’m certain. So maybe I am looking for a mean game of bed-swapping?

What I look like in my bed: I sleep on my stomach, except if there is a woman with me, in which case I can pull off a mean spoon. I am six-feet long, because I think I gain at least a half-inch since that pesky gravity isn’t acting on me in a vertical fashion. I have on boxers and a t-shirt if it’s cold. I have blue eyes, which you can’t see because my eyes are closed. I have a good body (translation: I am not embarrassed to take my shirt off at the beach, and sometimes when I do, someone will say, ‘nice body’).

What you look like in bed: you can sleep any way you want, as long as you don’t push your butt way out into my side of the bed, thus hogging the bed. If you do that, I’ll have to slap you on the ass to make you move over, unless we’re fooling around, then I might slap you on the ass any way, but only if I’ve cleared it with you first. You are wearing underwear and a t-shirt. You are in good shape and maybe you even workout on a regular basis or practice yoga, but not in the bed, unless we’re fooling around…

Please don’t ask to come see my bed if: you are mean; you are materialistic; you don’t like to spend long, but productive, hours in said bed; you eat in bed; you didn’t have a bed at college; you smoke in bed, or any where else; your bed isn’t in the city; you don’t consider yourself intelligent and wise.

* champion freecell player available for even your most boring job *

2006-04-11T22:08:00.000-07:00

do you need someone to sit and stare at a computer screen all day, listlessly answering a barely ringing phone, making the occasional pot of coffee or filing semi-useless documents?

i'm your gal!

i can sit for a full eight hours with little or nothing to do and still keep my sunny personality ready and waiting for your next mindless request. why? because even with endless hours on my ass, i have a trick to prevent my brain from turning into oatmeal.
how does she do it, you ask?

freecell!

yes, enough with this internet nonsense. who needs a T1 when the microsoft office suite comes bountifully equipped with freecell?

god bless you, freecell, the chess of my desktop.

who can win a game with four aces buried in a stack replete with needless 3's? i can!
who throws caution to the wind and has no fear of three kings in the free spots if it'll free up some aces?
i do!

my stats are at 87%, my streak is 6, and i would have better stats if my goddamn computer hadn't crashed and ended a game i was definitively winning.

so if you need someone to sit at a desk and look very very concentrated as though working very very hard when in reality responsibility is menial and far-between, gimme a ring!

i'll call you back when i finish my next game of freecell.

You were sooooo HOT!!!

2006-04-09T13:37:00.000-07:00

You: Hot. There's no other suitably words to describe you. Pure and simple. Scorching, on fire, sizzling....no. Pure and simple you were increadibly hot. I have not been the same since I saw you at lunch. I ache still with your memory.

Who was I. I was the poor sorry schlub who put you in my mouth where you proceeded to burn it's roof with your cheesy saucy crusty goodness. Man, it hurts.

But I got you. I ate you down good. I don't suppose I'll see you again for some hours and I'll be damned if you're ever that hot again. So take that.

FREE: Alarm Clock, Reminder Service, Motivator, Ego Check, and more!

2006-04-07T12:13:00.000-07:00

FREE: Alarm Clock, Reminder Service, Motivator, Ego Check, Bank Account Services, Life Planner and much MUCH MORE!!! (See bottom item)

Alarm Clock: Will wake you up one hour before alarm is set to go off to let you know you have one hour (err..now 59 minutes) left to sleep.

Reminder Service: Will be kind enough to remind you 8 times that the garbage has to go out in the morning, that you haven't sent a thank-you card to her mother for the Cosby sweater she gave you for your birthday, that her last boyfriend had "more", that the two of you never get to talk about anything, and lastly that she is doing you a favor by "Keeping on top of you so that something around here gets done!".

Motivator: It will talk about the last time it wore something sexy to bed before you became an a-hole, that you never had and probably never will amount to anything although you are in school getting your masters and working two jobs to pay for it (although it will ask "Why don't you just have daddy pay for it?", as well as many other helpful comments to get you to "be the person you should be".

Ego Check: When you think you have done a good job on a project, she reminds you that:
A - It shouldn't have taken soooo long to do
B - Her dog could have done it better

Bank Account Services: Have a bank account? Take to much time to balance your accounts? No need to worry! It will clear out all of that mess and clutter you've accumulated in your accounts within months!

Life Planner: Many people have problems finding there way in life. Well, those problems are a thing of the past!!! You'll never have a question as to what you should do or become on your journey through life. It will always have the answer and will let you know in no uncertain terms what you are to do.

If you are interested in these services, please contact me so that you may come and pick-up my girlfriend......who provides all of these services.

She's FREE! Well, to pick-up that is. Once you have her, that's your problem.

Free delivery
Free supply of vodka, Advil and earplugs.

To Spammers Everywhere

2006-04-04T08:57:00.000-07:00

While I'm not fond of the spam, I understand it's a job; and in this economy, a job that pays the bills is to be appreciated.

Since I seem to get over 100 spam emails a day, I consider myself quite knowledgeable. Here's a few suggestions for you to make your spamming more successful:

1. Emailing me the same message 40 times in one day doesn't make me read them. It's just as easy to click the button that says delete all messages as it is to delete only one. Basically, I'm telling you this so you can save some time- it must take a few seconds to repeatedly send out the same message to thousands of addresses.

2. I'm a woman. I have no desire to increase my penis size, or make my erections last longer. Please market your "goods" to the appropriate demographic. I'm sure you got that info from whatever mailing list you purchased my email address from- why not use it?

3. Sending me an email that appears to have been sent from my email address doesn't make me read it. Are you really banking on the thought that I forgot that I sent myself an email about how to make thousands of dollars working from home? First of all, I don't generally send email to myself. If I did, I'm generally going to remember doing it. So why not just put the real email address there?

4. Your newest trick- saying the email is from "Sally" regarding "Tim" (feel free to change the names to whichever ones you're using- I get a variety of them). Clever, but really- do you think we're going to fall for that? In most cases, you're not even using common names. How many Kellys have a friend named Sarota sending them emails about a guy named Jawad? I'm guessing not many. So everyone else will just delete it without opening it. And since your spam has nothing to do with Jawad, why not just be up front with what it's about? Just once, I'd like to see an email titled "yeah, it's more spam, but why not take a look?"... you know what- I would probably look at it!

5. At least try to be creative. If you've got to spam, can you at least entertain me? There's nothing worse than getting spam from "lkdjrfoweir" with a subject titled "jjkkkkkwww"... yeah- it doesn't really make me want to read it.

6. Again, I'm a woman. Not that you'd know my sexuality, but the majority of the population is heterosexual. So sending out nude photos of women isn't going to lure most of us women in. Save that for the men.

7. Titling the subject line "re:" doesn't make me think that you're responding to an email I sent you.

Bottom line, if you must inconvenience me, can you at least have the courtesy to get it right?

A Little Requiem for A Little Cat

2006-03-30T19:57:00.000-08:00

I adopted a little 7 month old grey Siamese mix kitten from Hopalong Rescue last June. He had been previously adopted but returned because the first owner's landlord did not allow pets. I named him Tao. He blended in seamlessly with my other 3 cats. He was just learning how to be comfortable in the house, jumping on counters (which I think he'd been beaten by his prior owner for doing that), challenging Martin, the boss cat, running Weery (the 3 year old gold tubloons Flame Point Siamese mix)through the house and boxing gently with Gaziel, the older, curmudgeonly Flame Point cat. He was regular cat sized, but with a small Siamese head and profile and very slender, delicate pads and legs. Sometimes I'd wake up from sleep, thinking a hand was gently petting my foot only to find that Tao was stroking my sole with his tiny, soft pads.

Taoie was also learning how to really play with the leopard snake that I'd dangle for the guys to jump at and was acquiring a taste for catnip. He'd staked out a place on the bed that he called his own at night, and when I slept, he didn't just cuddle, he clung like a limpet.

We played last night and had a lot of fun. When I woke up this morning, Tao was limp and gasping for air. I touched him and he started to moan and scream. I rushed him to the vet down the block to find that he was dying from a congenitally enlarged heart.

So, employed or jobless, look at the clouds, feel the breeze, enjoy a meal, hug your cat or dog, be kind to your partner and kinder to yourself. Death hides in the shadow of every moment.

Rest in peace, little Tao.

A Letter From An Afghani American

2006-03-28T11:36:00.000-08:00

Dear Friends,
The following was sent to me by my friend Tamim Ansary. Tamim is an
Afghani-American writer. He is also one of the most brilliant
people I know in this life. When he writes, I read. When he talks, I
listen. Here is his take on Afghanistan and the whole mess we are in.
> > >
> > >
> > >
Dear whoever is on this email thread:
> > >
I've been hearing a lot of talk about 'bombing Afghanistan back to
the Stone Age.' Ronn Owens, on KGO Talk Radio today, allowed that this would
mean killing innocent people, people who had nothing to do with
this atrocity, but 'we're at war, we have to accept collateral damage.
What else can we do?' Minutes later I heard some TV pundit discussing whether we 'have the belly to do what must be done.' And I thought about the issues being raised especially hard
because I am from Afghanistan, and even though I've lived here for 35 years
I've never lost track of what's going on there. So I want to tell
anyone who will listen how it all looks from where I'm standing.

I speak as one who hates the Taliban and Osama Bin Laden. There is
no doubt in my mind that these people were responsible for the
atrocity in New York. I agree that something must be done about those
monsters. But the Taliban and Ben Laden are not Afghanistan. They're not even
the government of Afghanistan. The Taliban are a cult of ignorant psychotics who took over Afghanistan in 1997. Bin Laden is a
political criminal with a plan. When you think Taliban, think Nazis. When
you think Bin Laden, think Hitler. And when you think 'the people of Afghanistan' think 'the Jews in the concentration camps.' It's not
only that the Afghan people had nothing to do with this atrocity.
They were the first victims of the perpetrators. They would exult if someone would come in there, take out the Taliban and clear out the rats
nest of international thugs holed up in their country. Some say, why don't the Afghans rise up and overthrow the Taliban?

The answer is, they're starved, exhausted, hurt, incapacitated,
suffering. A few years ago, the United Nations estimated that there are
500,000 disabled orphans in Afghanistan--a country with no economy, no
food. There are millions of widows. And the Taliban has been burying
these widows alive in mass graves. The soil is littered with land mines, the
farms were all destroyed by the Soviets. These are a few of the reasons
why the Afghan people have not overthrown the Taliban.

We come now to the question of bombing Afghanistan back to the
Stone Age. Trouble is, that's been done. The Soviets took care of it already. Make the Afghans suffer? They're already suffering. Level their
houses? Done. Turn their schools into piles of rubble? Done. Eradicate
their hospitals? Done. Destroy their infrastructure? Cut them off from
medicine and health care? Too late. Someone already did all that.

New bombs would only stir the rubble of earlier bombs. Would they
at least get the Taliban? Not likely. In today's Afghanistan, only
the Taliban eat, only they have the means to move around. They'd slip away
and hide. Maybe the bombs would get some of those disabled
orphans, they don't move too fast, they don't even have wheelchairs. But flying
over Kabul and dropping bombs wouldn't really be a strike against the
criminals who did this horrific thing. Actually it would only be making
common cause with the Taliban--by raping once again the people they've
been raping all this time.

So what else is there? What can be done, then? Let me now speak
with true fear and trembling. The only way to get Bin Laden is to go in there
with ground troops. When people speak of 'having the belly to do
what needs to be done' they're thinking in terms of having the belly to kill
as many as needed. Having the belly to overcome any moral qualms about
killing innocent people. Let's pull our heads out of the sand.
What's actually on the table is Americans dying. And not just because
some Americans would die fighting their way through Afghanistan to Bin Laden's hideout. It's much bigger than that folks. Because to get
any troops to Afghanistan, we'd have to go through Pakistan. Would
they let us? Not likely. The conquest of Pakistan would have to be first.
Will other Muslim nations just stand by? You see where I'm going. We're
flirting with a world war between Islam and the West.

And guess what: that's Bin Laden's program. That's exactly what he
wants. That's why he did this. Read his speeches and statements. It's all right there. He really believes Islam would beat the west. It might seem ridiculous, but he figures if he can polarize the world into Islam and the West, he's got a billion soldiers. If the west wreaks a holocaust in those lands, that's a billion people with nothing left to lose, that's even better from Bin Laden's point of view. He's probably wrong, in the end the west would win, whatever that would mean, but the war would last for years and millions would die, not just theirs
but ours. Who has the belly for that? Bin Laden does. Anyone else?

> > > Tamim Ansary

I Want You for Your Brains

2006-03-26T11:30:00.000-08:00

Brainy, liberal-arts oriented, post-punk girl seeks Calculus Tutor.

I could care less what you look like, what you do for fun, whether you are a top or bottom, or whether you eat meat or smoke. Do you go to the gym? That's nice, I could give a fuck.

What I want to know is-- can you simplify a complex rational equation? Do you have a mastery of advanced algebra and college-level Calculus? Can you find the limits, derivatives, points of inflection, points of concavity, etc. of a difficult function? Can you not only *do* Math, but teach it too?

I need to pass Calculus in order to get my very important scholarship to graduate school. I haven't solved for X in about ten years.

Can you help? I don't want sex, or friendship, or "more"... but I will pay you $10/hr for tutoring and buy you beers at the Lex.

I have a midterm next week, help!

Resume (Confidential)

2006-03-24T09:09:00.000-08:00

Objective

Girlfriend position with an interesting, attractive, 24-38 year old man that will build on prior success as a single woman and a long term girlfriend.

Relationship Experience

Single Woman in the City, Ltd., July 2001 – Present.
Single Woman
-- Posted personal ads on the internet resulting in the three highest dating periods in single woman's several year history
-- Wrote and edited personal ads and personal responses to numerous men; also wrote numerous interesting journal entries and short stories
-- Managed inside and outside dates including hiking, dinner, drinks, sleepovers, museum outings, plays, music, and weekend trips
-- Trained dates on etiquette through the use of role-plays, briefings, conversations, and emails
-- Developed strategic plan to enjoy life as single woman including painting, reading, running, yoga, writing, and movie watching
-- Managed life so that dating was not the only concentration
-- Maintained friendships with other single women, old boyfriends, some new acquaintances

Long-Term Girlfriend, Inc., April 1999 - July 2001
Long-Term Girlfriend
-- Consultant to boyfriend on wardrobe, cooking, and family relationship issues
-- Participated in numerous debates including politics, existentialism, religion, business, and toilet seat positions
-- Formulated and implemented dating plan including extensive hiking, breakfasts in bed, high levels of cuddling, and fun with friends and alone
-- Wrote and edited online and print love letters
-- Defined boundaries for success as an entity of my own, not the other half of boyfriend
-- Responsible for PR with our friends to ensure that we kept all friendships and enjoyed time apart

Volunteer Activities

Conversation partner for mother, some cleaning and cooking, massages, and love

Education

Life

References available after we become acquainted.

Greetings...

2006-03-22T20:39:00.000-08:00

Greetings Earthwomen.

I am Kham from the planet Krobernorz. I have traveled many years to meet you. Fourteen of your years ago, our planet suffered a cataclysmic event, forever affecting our future. A race of opposite gender aliens has invaded Krobernorz and have mandated that they will destroy all of us unless we mate with them and become their girlfriends. Obviously, we are very confused.

I have been sent by my superiors to "date", and record the social interactions between your genders. Until recently on Korbernorz we had only one gender. I fear this "dating" will be a difficult task.

I seek your help. I have found your "Internet". Please help. You are our last hope.

I have assumed the shape of a high-temperature (hot) female human being and have taken up residence on Earth. My mission must not fail.

Dear Mr/Miss Spam Writer,

2006-03-20T20:38:00.000-08:00

I know a mass posting is rude- but, you've been sending me so much spam lately, I haven't been able to respond to all of them. Besides- when I do respond, you seem to send me more spam. So here goes,

YesRead Phonics: hey man (or woman). I tried telling you before, I don't have kids! well, that I know of at least. But I was thinking, maybe I should take your free reading assessment. Will that let me know what if my kids will be blockheads?

Kevin Mitchell: You tricked me! You said the subject was 'The server was down,'
I was intrigued, only to find you really wanted to lengthen my penis. Have you seen me in the gym? I mean- adding three inches sounds appealing, but, my partner won't be impressed, I don't have one! I tried replying and telling you that. I know I didn't respond to your first 47 emails- but you really have me thinking

Jenna Meyer: So- 'you want to see me again?' oh fooled AGAIN- you wanna add three inches to my penis too! is it a one time shot- or can kevin do it then you, for a net gain of six inches to my penis? and- be honest- will you see me again if I don't add three inches? I hope you're not that shallow!

Customer Service: Clever, here I thought this was an email from amazon telling me my book on breeding rhino's in an urban environment had been shipped! But no- you wanted to give me a free PDA, er, sorry, a complimentary free PDA (fyi- thats redundant!) thanks- but I have a PDA.

SuckyBlond: You're such a vixen. You know you tease me. But I wonder if we ever did meet- if you'd just tell me to grow my penis three inches.

Brody Macklin: Hey dude! 'please don't take this personal' wow- so you're making money from this email! holy shit! how can I! is this like the bill gates will send you $1000 for testing their new email system? (which by the way I NEVER got!) yes you're right- I have been hesitant before to try one of these get rich quick schemes- but- your 119 emails may have changed my mind!

Bobbles: 'the hottest new toy in america' wow- this sounds kinky- can't wait! oh- bobble head dolls- how disappointing

Madeline_Peterson: you have every intention of getting me laid? is it ok that I probably need to grow my penis another three inches? They're 100% horny, 100% real, 100% amateur and 100% ready to fuck tonight? awesome! wait- tonight? no!!! this sucks! can we do it tomorrow! I can't tonight! I have way too much spam to respond to, for it to happen tonight.

thanks for all of your help and suggestions- especially the pictures of the hot nasty sluts- co workers love catching them on my screen!

take care-

pay The AMAZING _GIRL_!

2006-03-19T18:17:00.000-08:00

now, for the first time ever, you have the opportunity to not only SEE, but to actually PAY the AMAZING _GIRL_! I can put together a computer from garbage! I can dance a really dumb dance! I can make microwave popcorn! I can design web sites! I can carry boxes! I can move furniture! I can feed fish without over-feeding them so as to leave too much food and soil the water with unsightly brown and/or green algaes! I can tie my own shoes, and yours, too! I can write much better than this, but it's 3AM! I can wash dishes really well! I can wait your table! I can tell you a really bad joke! I can run your store! I can tell you a better joke! I can walk your dog! I can clean your embarassingly grungy bathroom! I can hit you! I can introduce you to my alter-ego, the 31337 h4x0r sup4-\/aR3z p1mp n3ga7i/3 zer0! ph33r me! I can set the clock on your VCR, TiVO, DVD+R, or whatever you have! Step up, step, up, don't be shy! Come and PAY the AMAZING _GIRL_! Seriously, i'll do almost anything for money. I have experience in a lot of fields, honestly, but i'm out of a job right now. Make me an offer, tell me what you want me to do. I'm honestly the best at computer-type stuff and writing (yes, I promise, I write better than this), but i can carry heavy stuff without it hurting (or at least i'll act like it doesn't hurt) and i have retail sales experience. I've sold stuff on ebay, and i like building computers. I really must go to bed now, but seriously, i'll do like anything. Have a business or website you want promoted? i'll put on a funny outfit and parade around doing whatever to promote it. just lemme know. (you can see i'm getting tireder by the second here, so i'm off to bed).

OR, I can do nothing and you can pay me everything! (read previous blog post).

I Want Money!

2006-03-18T19:46:00.000-08:00

Hi,
I want money.
I don't need it, just want it.
Will accept all kinds(pennies,hundred dollar bils,pesos,etc)
I have no skills nor desire to acquire any.
I have nothing to barter or sell.
Not willing to help you out around the house or help you move.
I am lazy and don't want to work, but still enjoy the finer things in life.
If you have any laying around, or want to go get a second job and just send me the check, let me know.
You can send it to my pay pal account as soon as you set one up for me.
Otherwise you can deliver it to my home.
No, I will not come pick it up.
We can set up monthly payments if it is more convenient for me, or you can just give me a lump sum.

Living in a Closet Looking for Lilliputian Bed/Easy Chair

2006-03-17T19:04:00.000-08:00

Hello--
On April 1, I will be moving into a walk-in closet and i need some small furniture to put into my "room". I am looking for a large children's mattress, a twin mattress or a thick twin futon pad. I would also love to find a small, comfy easy chair--the upholstered kind, maybe on rockers or a recliner, like my tiny grandma used to have.

I can't pay much (if I could, I wouldn't be living in a closet) but I can pick it up in a car after March. 31. Before March. 31 I can't pick anything up.

Thanks!

Stay in my stationwagon for cheap!

2006-03-16T07:25:00.000-08:00

Here's the deal. I have a BIG lovely stationwagon with 5 cupholders, cloth interior, 6 tube hooka, large ash tray, leopard trash bag, and tinted windows.

This is a one person stationwagon rental. I am asking for $175.00 per month and all other expenses are paid. However, you are reponsible for washing the windshield, morning defrosting, and oil changes.

I work from 9:00am- 7:00pm weekdays......SO THE CAR-APARTMENT will not be available at those times for entertaining, sleeping, or cooking. Weekends are flexible.

The CAR-APARTMENT is furnished with a futon, one yellow pillow, a stuffed care-bear, and some left-over candy wrappers. (I like candy) Sometimes I like to leave my tenants snacks and such.

Of course you will have have to live/rent the CAR APARTMENT in my drive-way. It's quite nice and near the Berkeley Capus, 7-11, various neighborhood bars, and a laundromat. If you ask nicely I can even park my car at the laundromat so you have easy access to clean your clothing.

Bring your inverter and laptop and you can have a clear line of site shot of my 15dbi antenna with WPA-PSK encrypted wi-fi access.

i have many brains, they think all at same time

2006-03-15T07:39:00.000-08:00

I like you. I give you resume. Me talented person, management experience. Counting things, inventory. Control, yes, inventory control. I control it with great squeeze, manly squeeze. Inventory run away squeaking after how I control it. All inventory know how big man I am. I train students with no past experience in glory of design, project management. I teach willing grasshoppers use of programs. I coordinate in single bound, leap over feats of organization with encompassing gaze. I solidify all; all coalesce into shining units of genius under my power. All organized. All little parts counted for. All run smoothly.

I cheerful, chipper, orderly. Yes, everything run smoothly. I workhorse, stolid, superhuman. I have many brains, all work at same time. I genius at these things. I sit at reception desk, greet lawyers, clients. I peck away at keyboard sending seething rays of data into file management programs. I beautiful admin goddess. Epiphanies of organization, files leap into my hands and beg to be made sense of. Paper likes me. You want me.

You look at resume, I send you. You like. Speak soon. I like you.

Cars in the Sunset

2006-03-13T07:59:00.000-08:00

You were the beautiful asian woman in the blue(?) car yelling sweet obscenities in my ear.

I was the smitten asian guy in the tan Corolla that almost hit you.

We both stopped and held eye contact for several seconds as you screamed your pretty head off. I thought I felt a spark. I was willing to take up your offer to teach me how to drive but didn't catch your info as you sped off. Coffee?

Tweaker Flea Market!!

2006-03-12T08:12:00.000-08:00

We were going through our house the other day (on day 12) and noticed that we have a lot of fabulous things we could sell for more of that crystalized nectar of the gods!! So...we're gonna' have a little sale.

EVERYTHING MUST GO---CHEAP CHEAP CHEAP!!!

Here are a few things we uncovered from the layers of graph paper and expired coupons:

-A gingerbread house made out of peanutbutter cookie dough ice cream. When the idea came upon us to construct this masterpiece it was (of course) too late to go to the store and actually get gingerbread. So, who cares if we used the kids breakfast, we gave them 50 cents for a Slim-Jim...to split.

-My neighbor's collection of empty cigarette packs from the last 3 weeks. This fine treasure consists of 63 boxes of GPCs. This one, I tell you, is a real find.

-A few strands of copper wiring I stole from a homeless guy sleeping outside Allstar Donuts.

-This pack of matches I found in the bottom drawer of my desk. This one is really useful, there are 3 whole matches left. They're a little sticky but sulfer doesn't go bad does it?

-A roll of toilet paper that fell in the toilet but now it's okay because it's dry.

-Some freak we brought home from a rave last week. This one is free.

-A re-wrapped blow pop. This one will be expensive because the gum is still there and hardly chewed.

-That bent fork I was trying to fix the thermostat with. (wow, that zap I got actually felt really good. On second thought, I'm not selling that one)

-Several pairs of dirty underwear. I don't know how many days I've worn each pair, or even if they're mine, but if you wash them no one will know. ;)

-1 pair of genuine converse high-tops from the late '80s. The duct tape on the toe is complimentary.

-1,286 Top Ramen proof of purchase labels.

-The phone number of this biker guy I met in Truckee last year who said he has some really good shit.

-Several broken light bulbs (they come in handy when you misplace your "devil's johnson")

-Little Johnny, he eats too much. And his box, I mean crib too.

-----Be there or be asleep.

Its Great to be a Cat

2006-03-11T09:02:00.000-08:00

Normally, I couldn't be bothered with something as silly as this "It's great to be a man/It's great to be a woman" debate. Usually, I'd rather just sleep on the couch or scratch something.

But I feel compelled to offer my two cents.

<<>>

Sorry about that. Furball.

See, the real issue is this: it's great to be a cat. Male OR female--it doesn't matter.

For all of you "dog people" out there, I'll type slower so you can understand. It's...great...to...be....a...cat. Got it?

Here are some reasons why:

1. We sleep and eat all day while you work.

2. We know how to get on the internet (unlike dogs who are still trying to figure out the doorknob).

3. We have attitude. (Or, as some SOMA kitties like to say, "cattitude.")

4. Ladies: would you rather be described as a "sex kitten" or a "dog"?

5. What sound would you rather hear from your date: "mrrrow!" or "ruff!"?

6. We're civilized. We know how to savor our meals. (Unlike dogs, who mow through their entire bowl of food in five seconds. I mean, c'mon, do they even TASTE it?)

7. Would you rather be called a "hip cat" or a "sick puppy"?

8. Catnip. (Is there any "Dognip"? I don't think so...)

9. On the rare occasions a cat and dog are in the same room (assuming they get along), no one EVER blames a fart on the cat.

10. We don't "fetch." If we happen to chase after something you throw, it becomes OURS.

There are many, many more reasons, but I'm sure some dog owners' eyes are starting to glaze over, so I'll stop here.

Before I go, I'd like to give a quick "meow" out to Larry the Tabby in the Sunset. Sorry to hear about the neutering, man. You'll get used to it.

Sincerely,
Simon the cat

Ode to the Recruiter

2006-03-08T09:18:00.000-08:00

Four months ago, I had time to relax
Oh some time off, free from e-mail from fax

Three months ago, I was still holding out
For that one perfect job, I still dreamt about

Two months ago, I was starting to find
No money for bills, and I longed for the grind

One month ago, I started to panic
Sent out more resumes! I became crazy and manic

So here’s to the recruiter, lord of my fate
Reader of the resume Keeper of the gate

Just one year ago, you were my best friend
Praising and fawning o'er the resumes I’d send

“We want you, we love you, you’ll be our new star!
You’re the brightest, the greatest, the best out here by far!”

But where are you now? Not a callback in months
While more and more “qualified” join the unemployed bunch

So I sit and obsess about typos and such
Did I get the right name? Did I bug you too much?

I rewrite, and I tweak, and I bullet and bold
“But we’ll keep this on file,” is all I’ve been told

I know I am qualified, I posses every skill
GO GETTER you say? I can and I will!

So I fax, and I mail, I network, I call
And talk about career fairs, I’ve been to them all

Oh Apple... Oh Netscape… Oh Adobe… and more…
I’d do anything to get my foot in the door

I’d die for some feedback, if you can’t bring me in
Do you see my bio amongst the hordes in the bin?

I just want to work, I don’t want to retreat
Please give me a chance, e-mail me, let’s meet!

Oh Dear Recruiter Gatekeeper of all,
Please do me a favor, please give me a call.

Project Manager, amateur poet, seeks position in the Internet or software industry.

P0RN sucks

2006-03-08T07:15:00.000-08:00

It's official: porn doesn't do it for me anymore...

...The orgasm took way too much effort. I almost laughed when watching one guy get placed in what must have been a terribly uncomfortable position, and I simultaneously was annoyed at how boring the whole thing was...

Source: this blog is so gay: P0RN Sucks

Me Daydreaming Again

2006-03-06T12:49:00.000-08:00

tarzan carry me on shoulder - me scream and squirm - me grab hanging vine, legs hugging tarzan face - tarzan grow stiff like jungle tree - tarzan snort and grunt - me beg jungle love - tarzan say good idea - tarzan throw me on bed of leaves- me hit tarzan with stick, call him beast - tarzan say "the beast is yet to come" - me laugh at stupid joke, get even hornier - tarzan peel off leopard skin - me smile - tarzan say "me bear, me dripping honeycomb" - me say "we'll work on the poetry later, now come here already" - tarzan leap - tarzan, me bounce like monkeys on trampoline - jungle animals frightened by ruckus - me hit high c note, tarzan melt like ice cream in microwave.

Pre-relationship Agreement

2006-03-05T03:47:00.000-08:00

The party of the first part (herein referred to as "she"), being of sound mind and pretty good body, agrees to the following with the party of the second part (herein referred to as "him"):

1. FULL DISCLOSURE: At the commencement of said relationship
(colloquially referred to as the "first date"), each party agrees to fully disclose any current girl/boyfriends, dependent children, bizarre religious beliefs, phobias, fears, social diseases, strange political affiliations, or currently active relationships with anyone else that have not yet been terminated.

Further, each party agrees to make known any deep-seated complexes and/or fanatical obsessions with pets, careers, and/or organized sports. Failure to make these disclosures will result in the immediate termination of said relationship before it has a chance to get anywhere.

2. INDEMNIFICATION OF FRIENDS: Both parties agree to hold the person who arranged the liaison (colloquially referred to as the "matchmaker") blameless in the event that the "fix-up" turns out to be a "real loser" or "psycho bitch". (For definition of "real loser", see "John DeLorean My Story", available at most bookstores, or any picture of Bob Guccione in "Penthouse". For definition of "psycho bitch," see Sharon Stone in "Basic Instinct" or Glenn Close in "Fatal Attraction.")

3. DEFINITION OF RELATIONSHIP: Should said relationship proceed past the first date, both parties mutually agree to use the following terminology in describing their said "dating": For the first thirty (30) days, both parties consent to say they are "going out". (This neither implies nor states any guarantee of exclusivity.) Following the first thirty 30) days, both parties may say they are "seeing somebody" and may be referred to by third parties as "an item". Sixty (60) days following the commencement of the first date, either member may elect to use the terms "girl/boyfriend" or "lover" and their mutual acquaintances may refer to them as "a couple". Under no circumstances are the phrases "my better half," "the little woman," "the old ball and chain," or "my old man/lady" acceptable. Furthermore, if both members consent, this timetable may be sped up; however, if either party "gets too serious" and disregards this schedule, the other party may dissolve the relationship on the grounds of "moving too fast" and may once again be said to be "on the market."

4. TERMS OF EXCLUSIVITY: For the first thirty (30) days, both parties agree not to ask questions about the other's whereabouts on weekends, weeknights, or over long holiday periods. No unreasonable demands or expectations will be made; "rights" or "holds" on the other's time. Following the first six weeks or forty-five (45) days, if one party continues to be "missing in action" the "wounded party" agrees to "give up".

5. DATING ETIQUETTE: For the first thirty (30) days, both members of the couple agree to be overly considerate of the other's work pressures, schedules, and business ambitions. All dates will be made at least twenty-four(24) hours in advance; there will be no "running off in the middle of the night to console an old girl/boyfriend", and both parties agree to strike the phrase "but he/she needs me" from their vocabularies. Further, during the first six (6) weeks each member of said relationship agrees to attempt one spontaneous home-cooked meal or to arrange the delivery of at least one unexpected bouquet of flowers.
Following the first forty-five (45) days, both parties will return to their normal personalities.

6. TERMS OF PAYMENT: It is agreed that -- respective gross income aside "he" will pick up the tab at all dinners, clubs, theaters, and breakfasts until: He considers her suitably impressed, He is broke, or He says, "this is ridiculous, you pay!" Not included in this agreement are meals ordered from the bedroom, which are subject to the availability of discretionary funds on hand at the time.

7. LIVING ARRANGEMENTS (occasionally known as the "Why do I bother to keep my own apartment?" codicil): Should said relationship progress to the point where the couple spends more than four nights a week together, every effort shall be made to split the time between their respective apartments. Further, it is agreed that both sides will attempt to silence the lewd remarks of landlords, or roommates. Both will avoid having their mothers call at 7:30 in the morning. He agrees to "pick up after himself" while in residence at her apartment, including washing his whiskers out of the sink, and assisting with household duties. By the same token, she agrees to respect his right to keep his apartment "a mess".

8. THE 90-DAY GRACE PERIOD: For the first three months, each member of the phrases couple agrees to hold the other blameless in the euphoric use of like "Let's move in together," "Why don't we start a family?" and – using archaic terminology -- "Let's get married."

9. THE "L" WORD: For the first sixty (60) days, both parties agree not to use the phrase "I love you." They may love plants, dogs, cats, cars, concerts, or the way a particular pair of jeans fits, but not each other. Failure by one party to abide by this rule will result in the other party using the "G" word ... "Gone."

10. GROUNDS FOR TERMINATION: Any of the following will be grounds for immediate termination and final dissolution of said relationship:
Infidelity: Running off at any time to console an ex-girl/boyfriend, ending any argument with the sentence "My ex used to do that same ...."

Ode To Men

2006-03-03T13:19:00.000-08:00

I love men for their strength. Sometimes it is that vein that bulges on the upper part of their foremarm. Sometimes it is the way they heft a tire out of the trunk – something I can never do without making it a major production. Sometimes, it is the way the tense their jaw and remain silent when their wife or girlfriend or mother is nagging and acting bitchy and close-to-hysterical, for no real reason (and never asking “Is it your time of the month?” even when they know it is). Always, it is the way that they get up and pad through the darkened house to see what that noise was, or stand in front of their girl when scary tough guys are approaching too fast or talking too loud and crude.

I love men for the way they give up everything but themselves for love (hanging onto their self is a form of their strength). How they worry during the day, is the guy driving her to that meeting a safe driver? Will she wear her seatbelt? How they stop me from crossing into traffic with a reflexive forearm. How they smile at me, eyes so bright, when I talk about some big success I had. How they get turned on when I win. How they try to think of ways to make their women more successful, and watch proudly from the sidelines. How they will stare, openly and with unabashed admiration, at a woman they admire and want to know better. How being in love makes them want to be better men. How they will willingly make a fool of themselves to get the ‘right’ girl to notice. How they kick themselves when they pass up the opportunity to make a fool of themselves, and the girl disappears. How they will pick up the phone, or walk over in a bar, and say something, anything - - knowing they might be rejected by the girl they are interested in but taking the risk anyway. How they hate to see a girl cry, no matter what.

I love men for the way they throw their all into sex – body and soul. How they get so much pleasure from giving a woman pleasure. How they don’t wonder if they look fat or ugly when they are naked. How they like to have sex with the lights on. How they can make any woman feel desirable and beautiful, if only she will stop judging herself and let him. How they like to look right into a woman’s eyes while making love. How pleading and slightly abashed they are before knowing they will get sex. Their single minded purpose in getting me to say yes, because of their confidence in the pleasure to be had. Their ability to focus on the pleasure alone, for it’s own worthy sake. How they fall in love a little bit every time they have sex. How they are so happy after sex, their defenses down, their outlook positive.

I love men for their beautiful bodies – they way the hair can grow thick on their arms. Their broad shoulders, and their tapering waists. Their rough palms, their broad fingernails, the way their hands can look both elegant and capable. Their cute butts –just like when they are babies, sometimes with downy fuzz. Their big masculine feet. Their comfortableness with being naked. Their unself-consciousness about the size of their penis. How noncommittal they are about their testicles – an endless source of masculine mystery to a woman. Their pretty eyelashes and seductive eyes. The way they hardly ever look into the mirror - even the most beautiful ones. The way they walk. Their ease with their bodies. Their optimism about their physical gifts, their refusal to brood on their less-than-perfect physical traits. Their smiling acceptance of their flaws, confident that they can overcome them with their better points.

I love to watch men eat. They never say, “this is too rich,” or “I really shouldn’t” or “this is going straight to my thigh”, even if all of these things might accurately describe the food and/or it’s effects. They just eat.

I love the way men give all of their attention to the things they are interested in. The way they can focus utterly on televised sport, driving the girlfriends and wives insane with their perfect indifference to their feminine companions (the game will soon be over and she’ll still be here, right? why miss the game?). The way they are puzzled that their girlfriends and wives can think attention to baseball or football or soccer takes anything away from their love of a woman. The way they can work hard and play hard. The way they refuse to be martyrs for their jobs. The way they channel surf for sports scores.

Most of all I love the way men love women. The way they indulge women’s endless obsession with ‘imperfections’ and often love the object of the woman’s insecurity and disdain – a large butt, a bit of a tummy, soft thighs. How they can generously see something attractive in almost any woman. How their attention is so often more directed to the woman than to themselves. How they eroticize the humble and bizarre – the arch of the foot, the space behind the knee, the collarbone, the muscles of the lower back. How very much they appreciate it when a pretty girl smiles at them. How they admire intelligence and strength and beauty and independence in a woman – the whole package. But how they can also love vulnerability and insecurity in that same woman. How they can let bygones be bygones – and really not need to ‘talk it out’, not because he’s uncommunicative but because he won’t hold minor things against the girl or the relationship. He just won’t. How he will ‘talk it out’ if she insists, even though he’s forgiven her and knows that he deserves to be forgiven, because it makes her feel better. How he will make sure the oil is changed and the smog inspection is up to date, because she never thinks to do it. How he will admire her in sexy expensive shoes and a great leather skirt but also admire her barefoot in a white tank top and jeans. How he likes women without makeup. How he likes women who are wearing too much makeup. How he can look at me speculatively in the check out line in the grocery store even when I’m wearing baggy sweat pants and flip flops. How he doesn’t weigh himself more than once every three months or so and always guesses that woman weighs about 15 lbs less than she actually does. How he loves the things we can’t take credit for - breasts, the curve from bust to hip, hips.

I love men. I just love them! Thank you, men.

Foreplay - A Reader's Guide

2006-03-01T09:56:00.000-08:00

Do not give me five minutes
with your fingers twisting at my nipples. No,
that will not do at all. Nor do I want
an assault on my nether regions, your breath
vehement and alcoholic at my ear. My GOD,
what do you think I am, a vending machine? I need time, dear lover,
time to get comfortable, time to get horizontal, time to get my juices optimal.
I would never, unless under extreme urgency like a flood coming or the Spanish
Inquisition (or parents in the other room) tear at your belt buckle, hoist your cock out of its
Hanes shell, and mount. Well, maybe I would but that’s just after the beginning,
after the Victorian courting procedures involving lengthy emails and simmering
innuendo, after first and second and third base have been stolen in
back seats and late-night booty calls, after movies and dinners and after you have kissed me
long and hard. Then maybe I will approve of this batten-down-the-hatches
sex I know you love, that whoa-nelly-a-storm’s-a-brewin’ fucking
that makes us dash indoors like the skittish breeders we are.
Then it’s alright to twist and pin and squirm and squint and truncate what might be
in the night, to you, an overlong procedure.

Not now, though, or ever if we can make this work accordingly.
Because it is this that keeps me awake at night, shimmying
like a hula girl on a humming dashboard. A thumb drawing, meticulously,
the curve made by a juxtaposing hip. The timid orchid scent of an opening eyelid.
The musk convinced out of the pre-dawn sheets,
when we wake and are awakened by the waking.
Your hunger coupled with my hunger coupled with the music
we are capable of orchestrating, and the beauty of the metronome in all of that.
The conversation your tongue could make with my lower back. What I would do
if given the time to articulate the syllables
resting in your collarbone.

420 Explained

2006-02-27T11:33:00.000-08:00

Connotative Use/Meaning

420 is a phreak's (and not just a hippie's) favorite number for a variety of reasons, or maybe for no reason at all, but colloquially the number says pot -- "let's smoke pot", or "someone's smoking pot", or "gee, i really like pot", or "time to smoke pot", either by time (4:20 a.m. or p.m.), date (April 20th), or otherwise (e.g. State Route 420). April 20th at 4:20 is marked by annual events in Mount Tamalpais, CA (an informal gathering); Marin Conty, CA (the 420 Hemp Fest); Ann Arbor, MI (the Hash Bash); and Washington, D.C. (buildup towards the July 4th Smoke-In).

Original Source(s)

Conventional wisdom: The most common tale is that 420 is the police radio code or criminal code (and therefore the police "call") in certain part(s) of California (e.g. in Los Angeles or San Francisco) for having spotted someone consuming cannabis publicly, i.e. "pot smoking in progress"; that local cannabis users picked up on the code and began celebrating the number temporally (esp. 4:20 a.m., 4:20 p.m., and April 20); that the number became nationally popularized in the late 1980s and, more ferverently, in the early- to mid-1990s; and is colloquially applied to a variety of relaxed and/or inspired contexts, including not only pot consumption but also a "good time" more generally (in contrast to the drug war surrounding).

Conventions are legends: 420 is not police radio code for anything, anywhere. Checks of criminal codes (including those of the City of San Francisco, the City of Los Angeles, Los Angeles County, the State of California, and the federal penal code) suggest that the origin is neither Californian nor federal (the two best guesses). For instance, California Penal Code 420 defines as a misdemeanor the hindrance of use ("obstructing entry") of public lands, and California Family Code 420 defines what constitutes a wedding ceremony (Marco). One state does come close: "The Illinois Department of Revenue classifies the Alcoholic Liquor Act under Part 420, and the Cannabis and Controlled Substances Tax Act are next, under Part 428." (RB 5/19/99)

True story?: "According to Steven Hager, editor of High Times, the term 420 originated at San Rafael High School, in 1971, among a group of about a dozen pot-smoking wiseacres who called themselves the Waldos. The term 420 was shorthand for the time of day the group would meet, at the campus statue of Louis Pasteur, to smoke pot. ``Waldo Steve,' a member of the group who now owns a business in San Francisco, says the Waldos would salute each other in the school hallway and say ``420 Louis!' The term was one of many invented by the group, but it was the one that caught on. ``It was just a joke, but it came to mean all kinds of things, like `Do you have any?' or `Do I look stoned?' ' he said. ``Parents and teachers wouldn't know what we were talking about.' The term took root, and flourished, and spread beyond San Rafael with the assistance of the Grateful Dead and their dedicated cohort of pot-smoking fans. The Waldos decided to assert their claim to the history of the term after decades of watching it spread, mutate and be appropriated by commercial interests. The Waldos contacted Hager, and presented him with evidence of 420's history, primarily a collection of postmarked letters from the early '70s with lots of mention of 420. They also started a Web site, waldo420.com. ``We have proof, we were the first,' Waldo Steve said. ``I mean, it's not like we wrote a book or invented anything. We just came up with a phrase. But it's kind of an honor that this emanated from San Rafael.'" Maria Alicia Gaura for the San Francisco Chronicle, 4/20/00 p. A19; and thanks to Noah Cole for the submission

Alternate explanations

There are a variety of other explanations, all much more interesting than "police code", and many plausible. Some are more likely uses of the 420/hemp connection rather than sources of it, such as the score for the football game in Fast Times at Ridgement High, 42-0.

Known Myths: It isn't police code (see above). There are 315 chemicals in marijuana, not 420. And although tea time in Amsterdam is rumored to be 4:20, it is actually 5:30 (Gerhard den Hollander).
Sixties Songs: For instance, Bob Dylan's famous "Rainy Day Women #12 and 35" is a possible reference, or source -- 12x35=420. And Stephen Stills wrote (and Crosby Stills Nash & Young performed) a song "4+20" (first recorded 7/16/69, released on Deja Vu 3/11/70) about an 84-year-old poverty-stricken man who started and finished with nothing. (Thanks to Sherry Keel 12/6/98.) Dylan aslo mentions "4 and 20 windows" in "The Balland of Frankie Lee and Judas Priest" (on John Wesley Harding).
Older Verse: But 420 in poetry is older than that - Greg Keller notes the old nursery rhyme line, "four and twenty black birds baked in a pie". Revelation 5:14 (in the King James Version of the Christian Bible) reads, "And the four beasts said 'A-Men.' And the four and twenty elders fell down and worshipped him that liveth for ever and ever." (Travis Spurley 2/15/99) And in Midnight's_Children, Salman Rushdie wrote, "Inevitably, a number of these children failed to survive. Malnutrition, disease and the misfortunes of everyday life had accounted for no less than four hundred and twenty of them by the time I became conscious of their existence; although it is possible to hypothesize that these deaths, too, had their purpose, since 420 has been, since time immemorial, the number associated with fraud, deception and trickery." (Comet 2/14/98) Comet's "best guess is that this refers to something in Indian mythology or numerology, since the book is set in India and frequently involves Indian history, culture, and religion. Given the high interest in Eastern religion among the phish/dead community, this seems a likely origin of 420's current significance."
Temporal Significance: "Hands on analog clock at 4:20 look like position of doobie dangling from mouth" "Larry in Tuscan" and Alex Mack 5/19/99). Disruptive students are out of detention and safetly away from school by 4:20, also rumored to be "the time that you should dose to be peaking when the Dead went on stage" Hart. "The Waldos" were a group of teens back in the 70's that lived in San Rafael, CA. 420 was the way they talked about pot in front of teachers, non-smoking family members etc. Also it was the time of day they could just go relax, and get baked." ("PhunkCellar") Jamaicans purportedly "worked till 4 then walked home then lit up. They would talk 420 like our parents talked about after 5. That's when partying began" "Larry in Tuscan"). Albert (not Abbie) Hofmann supposedly first encountered LSD at 4:20 p.m. on 4/19/1943 (Bart Coleman citing Storming Heaven by Jay Stevens, recommended by Mickey Hart in Planet Drum). Surrealist painter Miro was born April 20, 1893. And www.filmspeed.com says the propoganda film Reefer Madness has a copyright date of April 20, 1936 (i.e. 4/20). (Patrick Woolford)
Misc: Could be that it comes from hydroponics, the practice of cultivating plants in water often used by indoor marijuana cultivators, since 4 is used for H on a calculator (420/H20). (Nick Lowe 3/30/00) The number 80 (eight) is "quatre vingt" (pronounced "cah-truh vahn"), meaning "four (times} twenty". Dan Nijjar 1/27/00 (No connection yet between the number 80 and pot. A quarter pound is roughly 120 grams, rounding quarter-ounces to 7.5.) The titanic was supposed to arrive 4/20/1912. (Thanks to RB.) Perhaps the heavy use of vt420 terminals in the Berkeley area is to blame? (BTW, 420 in binary code is 110100100.)

Ubiquitous?

Now there's a 420 Pale Ale. One of the late-97/early-98 "Got Milk" ads featured a character eating cookies without milk and then passing a sign that reads "Next Rest Area 420 miles" (as Ross Bruning). Reportedly, all of the clocks in the movie Pulp Fiction are stuck on 4:20. Shirts with the number 420 on the red-and-blue interstate highway shield (Interstate 420?) have show up on the sitcom Will and Grace (Paul Risenhoover 5/14/99) and in several videos. UPS' labelling software has a "420 postal code" legend for next-day/2-day deliveries (which is how Phish tickets are sent). (Jack Lebowitz 10/3/98) MTV's 1997 Viewer's Choice Award (for the MTV Video Awards) was decided by calls to 1-800-420-4MTV. And by May of 1998, the number was appearing in so many ads (eg Copenhagen 5/14/98 Rolling Stone p54, Corvette p55 5/98 Car & Driver) that its presence is presumed to be intentional. Many songs are around 4 minutes 20 seconds long (since many songs fall between 2:30 and 5:30), including for example Pink Floyd's "A Great Day for Freedom" (on The Division Bell, 1994), the Foo Fighters' "My Hero", and "Smokin'" from Boston's first album. "There have also been some 420 references on The Simpsons. In the re-run episode aired on April 20th, 1999 at a special time (probably in honor of those college students staying in the holiday spirit ;-), Homer mentions to Flanders that Barney's birthday is April 20th. Also, the jackpot sign in one part of the casino says $420,000. There are a couple less concrete ones, but these two have to be legit, especially since they decided to air THAT particular episode on 4/20/99." (Submitted by Matt Meehan 4/21/99) And (as of Fall '99) the 60 free minutes that Working Assets Long Distance offers, at the 7 cents per minute rate, is $4.20 free. There's even a band named 420, and another names . In the first fifteen pages of Karel Capek's novel War with the Newts, a man diving under wonder stayed down for four minutes and twenty seconds. Grant Garstka 1/6/00 At the suggested retail price ($3.96) and Michigan (6%) sales tax, a deck of Uno cards costs $4.20. Nic Boris 4:20 marks the first downbeat of the drums in Led Zeppelin's epic "Stairway to Heaven." (Dan Harris) The bill authorizing force after the World Trade Center attacks of 9/11/01 passed 420 to 1, and news reports in following months noted many times that there are (or were then, anyway) 420 airports in the U.S. Allan Morris And don't forget that Adolf Hitler was born on April 20, macabely "celebrated" (or at least referenced) via the Columbine High School shootings.

Very pregnant and very evil

2006-02-24T22:10:00.000-08:00

Are you in your third trimester of pregnancy and going totally insane? Did you friend come stay the weekend with her one year and three year old who shrieked, tantrumed, and bratted until the wee hours every night, causing you to bang your head repeatedly against the wall screaming IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT quietly to yourself, bemoaning the urge to reproduce that struck you eight months ago? Do you mourn your flat stomach like a dead favorite uncle? Do you dread leaking fluid from multiple orifices more than labor pain? Do you make pitiful attempts to dress like your old self in your black maternity tank top only to gape in horror at the gothic watermelon belly that stares back at you from your bathroom mirror? Did you refuse to register before your co-workers threw you a shower and are now drowning in 985,324 ruffled pink 3-6 months outfits that you will burn before you ever dress your fetus in them? Do you make valiant attempts not to waddle at the expense of severe back pain? Do the Noe Valley baby jogger moms scare the living crap out of you? Would you sell your soul for a vodka martini?

If the answers to any of the above questions are a resounding YES, then perhaps I am the sarcastic, black-humored, witty, anti-everything babys' r' us pregnancy companion that you dread sitting next to in Lamaze class. I haven't decorated my nursery yet (and when I do I'll be damned if there is gonna be any ducks in bonnets or winnie the poos in evidence), my husband is scared of me and thinks I will be a horrible mother, and now that I am done with work for the summer, I spend all my time doing construction work on my decaying TIC and then take great pleasure in horrifying my mother by telling her all about it, in detail, complete with descriptions of me climbing up ladders and breathing in paint fumes (kidding).

I fear I am the only pregnant person like me in existence. Am I?

Cyber Sex

2006-02-22T23:17:00.000-08:00

What happened to cyber sex. I remember it having some popularity in the late 90's but I don't here about it anymore, must have been lousy.

Fair is Fair

2006-02-21T23:07:00.000-08:00

...if men are so insistent that we all look good in a bikini, then we should insist that they be rich, have a full head of hair, and a big dick. It's only fair, right?

Cold Eeze and Airborne losers

2006-02-20T18:22:00.000-08:00

How can you be so stupid? You think there's a cure for the common cold? Let me guess. You felt like you were getting a cold, you took some Airborne and you never got a cold. I feel like I might be getting a cold all the time. Sometimes I do and sometimes I don't. It has nothing to do with any snake oil, bullshit, homeopathic, hocus pocus. You're being made a fool of. Wake up and stop buying that crap. The creators of this stuff are laughing at you all the way to the bank. Think for goodness sakes!

WHEN WILL MY FATHER PICK A BRIDE FOR ME?

2006-02-19T10:29:00.000-08:00

Someone e-mailed me this so I figured I'll post it.
//////////////////////////////////////////

I am an Indian boy, age 22

I am very handsome, one meter tall and thin.

I will screw anyone with my small cock but the bride must be a virgin with a big dowry We will live together in a room in Leeds that my mother cleans once in a fortnight. I have a VISA It is a quiet room (good for studies) because all the neighbors have moved out due to my cooking stink

vroom vroom!

2006-02-16T19:33:00.000-08:00

I am looking for someone to share my fantasy. I have blonde long straight hair, blue eyes, 5'10 thin and 27. I would love to meet a man who has lots of vibrating or noisy appliances! I, myself have a small collection going.

We can start in the bedroom, with all the lights on, all the fans on, the computer on, NPR has to be on. First, we will kiss softly, and then you will proceed to unbutton my blouse, and feel my breasts.

Next we will move to the den where we will turn on the laptop, the TV, the paper shredder, turn on the fax machine I'll make sure my printer is printing and feeding directly into the paper shredder. I will sit in my vibrating office chair while you perform cunnilingus.

From there we will move to the living room, where we will start the vacuum cleaner, and the TV . My fish tank will be turned on so it produces noise, I will also turn on my humidifier, and stereo. I will release my 3 noisy parakeets so they can fly around the room and climb the blinds. In this room, I will give you oral ecastsy, but no cumming yet.

For the grand finale, we will make our way to the kitchen, where we will turn on the garbage disposal, dishwasher, blender, food processor, microwave, and sink. You will then throw me on the kitchen table, have your way with me and climax amidst the cacaphony. Any new additions to the appliance collections are welcome. Please send me a picture of youself, or one with your favorite appliance. Hope to find you soon.

+++++++++++++
Just a joke people
+++++++++++++

We played Magic(tm), now let's make it!

2006-02-15T11:48:00.000-08:00

You know who you are.

Last week's Voladon Grand Battle: you were wearing the Punisher t-shirt, I was wearing a teal tank-top.

I played my Thoren the Warrior card.

Your eyes twinkled. You layed down your Volcazon the Beastmaster.

Smart move.

But you knew I had the Cheeze. I could see in the way that you looked at me while gathering your cards that you wanted to meet again. But not for battle, this time.

The Perfect Casual Encounter

2006-02-13T17:25:00.000-08:00

It’s been more than a month since your last boyfriend called you. Depressed and lonely, you say to yourself, “Why do I bother?” Then an idea strikes you late one night, while reading the Newspaper Ads. On a lark, you call in an ad on the LA times, just to see what the response would be. You check your email and, to your surprise, realize your mailbox has over 100 responses. After rejecting most of crazies, you find one that actually seems pretty decent. A sexy blend of Brad Pitt and Antonio Banderas, he captures your attention. So you email him back, chatting flirtatiously, until you both agree on a time to meet for a drink later this week at a nice bar/restaurant nearby.

The day arrives, and you look fabulous. He is even better looking in person. You hit it off immediately, moving effortlessly through small talk, where you grew up, favorite music and sports, and onto philosophical discussions. He makes you laugh and you flirt shamelessly. You’re tempted to sleep with him, but you’re not sure yet. You want to see how good a kisser he is. Then, you look at your watch and realize that it’s after midnight. He walks you to your car and you stand together talking in the parking lot for another 30 minutes, not wanting the date to end. He leans in and gives you a tender, sweet kiss with no tongue, making you melt. Then he kisses you again and builds up to French kissing. Okay, he’s definitely a good kisser. You embrace tightly, but are still not sure if you should sleep with him. He senses your hesitation, and doesn’t push you for sex.

The next day he calls you and tells you what a wonderful time he had. You go out with him a few more times with him, and spend hot makeout sessions at his place, learning about each other’s bodies. Then, your new love invites you to go away for the weekend at a romantic inn in Napa. Finally, you give in to your overwhelming desire to sleep with him. The sex is mind-blowing and magical, but also tender and sweet. After hours of foreplay and cunnilingus, he enters you powerfully. You lose count of your orgasms and wonder how you could have possibly waited so long. In the soft firelight of your cozy room, he tells you he loves you, and asks you to move in with him. You weep with joy and agree. Six months after you move in together, he proposes. You are ecstatic.

You plan an extravagant wedding with picture-perfect details. You find the perfect wedding dress on sale, and as a result, your whole wedding comes in under budget. You use the extra money to bump up to first-class airfare on your honeymoon in Tahiti. In the bungalow on your wedding night, you hold each other closely. You can’t believe that happiness like this is even possible. “I must be dreaming,” you say to yourself.

And then you wake up, alone in your bed. Your first words of the day echo those you spoke late last night: “Why do I bother?” But you get up, and get online again, hoping for a chance that you might one day have the Perfect Casual Encounter.

You never know.

I need work! Skill: Professional Slacker

2006-02-11T08:25:00.000-08:00

Being a dot com casualty, I find that I have become indolent, jaded, and, most of all, disillusioned by this 'Blessed' American way of life.

And yet, being that this exodus of economic vitality has left behind a sea of boarded up commercial spaces, overpriced rents, and embittered people in its wake, I find that survival is still a necessity that has persevered.

And so, having been faced with innumerable rejections from job listings that are really not that appealing to begin with, I have outlined a list of criteria that delineate the ideal job for me.

*Salary of at least 150K plus stock options
*2 hour minimum lunch period with bar tab covered by expense account
*Unlimited access to internet during work time
*Being allowed to say, "F**k you" to supervisor and middle managers as necessary without repercussion.
*Taking dumps on company time permissable.
*Embezzlement of company coffers is tolerated to a degree
*Flirting with hot guys during work hours.
*No requirement to stay after 2:00 in the afternoon
*No real work production is required

Well it seems as though I have just described the typical government job. However, a job like this in industry would not be unheard of...particularly at the executive level.
*

Bitchy, Fickle Chicks ..Read This

2006-02-10T13:18:00.000-08:00

If you're into:
-wasting my time,
-sending double-messages,
-whining about never getting what you want from me,
-complaining about my drinking and drug use,
-expecting me to be your mommy and fix your life,
-thinking you're the only thing worthwhile in my life,
-using me to carry your heavy bags of groceries that you feel resentful sharing with me,
-telling me you love me then disappearing without an explanation,
-talking shit about me to my/your/anyone's friends,
-ignoring me in public,
-not introducing me to your family,
-guilting me for spending time with my buddies,
-making me listen to your droll monologues about the unbearably boring things in your head
-thinking I can read your mind when you say nothing is wrong-and you're crying and won't look at me,
-forgetting my birthday,
-blaming all of your problems on me
-abusing my dog,
-killing my cat,
-kicking me out of my home when I am disabled and broke,
-being a self-rightous, controlling, spoiled victim/princess,
-leaving me for a man,
-ignoring my safe word,
-thinking yours is the only valid perspective,
-flirting with all my friends and lying about it,
-getting lazy in bed after the first two misleading months of our hot relationship
-stealing the gifts you've given to me after you get mad,
-dressing up to go out with your friends and wearing sweatpants and hairy legs when we have a date,
-constantly chattering just to hear your own irritating voice
-calling me someone else's name........................

You are the one for me...coffee?

THE BOOTY CALL AGREEMENT

2006-02-09T07:06:00.000-08:00

This Booty Call Agreement (hereinafter referred to as the Agreement)
is entered into on the _____ day of __________, 2006, by
_______________, between _____________ and ___________.

THIS AGREEMENT SHALL COVER THE FOLLOWING RULES AND PRINCIPLES:

1. No sleeping over--unless it is very good and we need to repeat it in
the morning.
2. No meeting in public except for dinner or drinks before the events
of the evening.
3. No calls before 9 PM--we don't have shit to talk about.
4. None of that "lovemaking" shit--only mind-blowing sex allowed.
5. No emotional discussions--Ex.: Where are we heading with this? Do you love me? The answer is no, so don't ask.
6. No plans made in advance--that is why you are called the "back-up,"
unless you are from out-of-town, then it's only a one-time, advanced-arrangement.
7. All gifts accepted--money is always good.
8. No baby talk--however, dirty talk is encouraged.
9. No asking for comparisons with former lovers--it's really none of your damn business.
10. No calling each other "friends with privileges"--we are not
friends, just sex buddies.
11. Calling out the wrong name during sex is OK--don't be offended.
12. No extra clothing--I don't want your ass leaving anything behind
when you leave.
13. No falling asleep right after sex--it's over, so get your ass up andv go home.
14. Don't be offended if I don't ask if you enjoyed it--I don't care.
15. You cannot borrow my car for any reason.
16. If anyone asks who you are, the standard response will be: "My
roommate's girlfriend/boyfriend."
17. Doggie style preferred--just hit it hard and right or get the hell
out.
18. Reason for doggie style: the less eye contact the better. I don't want to look at you, just fuck you.
19. We hook up absolutely whenever the mood strikes ME--so don't keep
calling.
*** EXTRA TIP FOR SUCCESSFUL BOOTY CALLS***
The aforementioned rules may be altered by the holder of the
agreement.
If the other party attempts to change or alter any terms of This
agreement, it will automatically become null and void and you will then be removed from the BOOTY CALL LIST and deleted from phone
memory and email list, BLOCKED from all communications until your silly
ass understands the rules.
Participating partners:
Signature: ______________________
Date: __________________________

$599 down payment - Mud Hut Studio

2006-02-08T10:30:00.000-08:00

For those of you who went to the first open house -- sorry about the lights going out. The electrical wiring and wet mud occasionally cause shorts. For those of you who missed the ad in the New York Times:

Modern mud hut with straw roof and bamboo partitions. Renter agrees to fix the roof after it rains (it leaks and caves in after awhile). No dogs or cats, but groundhogs are ok. Parking is available at a nearby lean-to shelter.

Bonus -- I just upgraded the kitchen sink from standard mud to ceramic so it won't wash away when you do the dishes.

Female Operative Needed for Long Term Surveillance Operation

2006-02-07T18:45:00.000-08:00

Thanks for coming in this morning agent. Please have a seat.

As you know the directorate of operations occasionally conducts interviews to place agents in operations on the high risk board.

Just so you know, no one knows we are having this meeting but you and I so no record of your interest, should you accept or reject the operation, will exist. Nothing will show up in your Bureau file or anywhere else in writing. If you reject the operation it will not be held against you in any way.

The operation I am going to discuss with you is highly dangerous and classified "secure compartmentalized" so no word of it leaves this room regardless of how you decide.

Your taking this assignment is, of course, entirely voluntary. This particular operation would require you to leave the Bureau virtually permanently if the initial phase is a success so we are taking volunteers only. You can, of course, decide to leave the operation at any time.

So, that out of the way, and as I see you are still sitting here, let me lay out the details.

Description:

The subject of this operation is a Caucasian male with a very light olive complexion, approximately 28 years of age, 6'3" 175 pounds, slim to athletic build, clean shaven, brown hair with some auburn highlights and dark brown eyes. The subject is of Austrian-Swiss and Northern Italian decent but arrived in America at a young age. Schooled in the Midwestern United States until 17 and then at University in the Eastern United States he can for all intents and purposes pass easily and without conflict as an American citizen. He has virtually no accent, but traces of an Oxford English accent emerge if the subject is agitated. The subject has no immediately discernable scars or other physical maladies.

Physical Ability and Classification:

The suspect should be regarded with extreme caution. Although he appears of slim build, the subject possesses significant athletic ability. He is known to have studied the Japanese art of Aikido for at least 6 years and served in the Swiss Alpine Corps in an airborne unit at a young age. The subject is a certified coast guard captain and sails avidly. The subject is an exceptional skier and competed semi-professionally in alpine downhill at a young age. The subject studied Olympic fencing for 9 years and is therefore adept in the use of the fencing foil and has a catlike disposition when agitated or alarmed. The subject also possesses a 5 handicap in equestrian polo and can be assumed to be a riding expert.

Other Skills:

As recently as 1999 the subject held a current pilot's license and was FAA certified for multi engine IFR operation. Said license appears to have expired in recent months, however. The subject appears to have completed anti-terrorist/anti-surveillance driving classes in Europe and possesses exceptional driving and mechanical skills.

Intelligence and Education:

The subject is highly intelligent (170+ IQ) and well educated, holding an undergraduate degree in International Relations and graduate degrees in International Affairs and a degree in Law, all from top 10 or top 20 American Universities. The subject has also attended Oxford and Cambridge in England at length, which may account for the occasional appearance of an English accent. Apparently while at Oxford the subject, who had intended to study theoretical physics in England, elected to abandon that course of study owing to the lack of social skills exhibited by his academic colleagues in the sciences. Subject was heard by one of our agents to remark: "Bloody science geeks are driving me mad."

The subject is unusually cultured and enjoys a wide ranging knowledge in conventional, traditional, contemporary and obscure cultural subjects ranging from art (old masters to contemporary to post modern to western to east asian) to media and other cultural studies.

Travel and World Experience:

The subject has been sighted at one time or another in virtually every country in Western Europe as well as the Baltic Republics, the Ukraine, Belarus, Yugoslavia (before the war), Croatia (after the war), various locations in the Middle East including Morraco and South Africa, the Caribbean, South and Central America including Costa Rica, Venezuela, Chile, Argentina, Panama, Peru, Mexico, Japan and Russia. The subject was deported from Canada while on vacation in 1994 and agents accepting the operation are requested to obtain more information about this incident. The subject is known to speak at least 6 languages, at least 3 with high fluency including German, English and Spanish.

Intelligence/Counterintelligence/Espionage ability:

The subject is known to have served in the Swiss Diplomatic Corps for at least 3 years as a foreign embassy attache and probably in an intelligence/espionage capacity in the economic espionage directorate.

The subject is clearly schooled in surveillance and countersurvellence and has evaded our cover agents on numerous occasions with remarkable skill and daring. The subject is known to have exceptional interrogation and interpersonal skills. The subject's charisma and charm are disarming and a real potential threat to the careless female agent.

Social Interaction:

As a former diplomat the subject possesses exceptionally adroit social skills and easily blends into any environment from high society to Eastern European to South American to collegiate bar to artistic coffee house. On several occasions our agents have witnessed the subject hosting upscale cocktail parties in the San Francisco and Chicago areas.

Relationships/Sexual Persuasion:

Some confusion originally existed with respect to the subject's sexual persuasion. Two novice agents noted the subject wearing an ascot and, being ignorant in the nuances of European style, incorrectly assumed the subject to be homosexual. Corroborating this mistake was the subject's documented and unusual cooking expertise (souffles in particular), habit of overdressing, propensity to turn down dates with women of all ages and persuasions as well as his ability to get out stains of all origins and colors. It has since become clear that the subject is decidedly heterosexual, primarily monogamous but quite picky in selecting partners. The subject seems to tend towards longer term relationships based on deep trust and fidelity. Adept agents will attempt to capitalize on this feature.

Debriefing of a former liaison of the subject's revealed that the subject is extremely attentive to the intimate needs of his lovers in general and prone to spoiling significant others mercilessly while asking little for himself aside from their attention. The subject's monthly florist bill while dating rarely fails to exceed $150. The subject fails to exhibit jealousy, even when provoked in public situations and is reputed to be self-secure and non-controlling in relationships with the opposite sex.

The subject appears to have had substantial bad luck in past relationships- which have involved unstable or otherwise psychologically impaired significant others- in at least two cases substantial personal tragedies unrelated to the subject caused the significant other to break off long term relations with the subject.

Psychological analysis shows the subject to be impressed and fascinated with what he perceives as the elegance of design and function of the female form. Subject has been heard to comment with great eloquence on the beauty of women who attract his eye and has been known to employ novel, creative and persistent efforts to woo potential mates. Subject clearly has a high level of respect for, and in depth knowledge of the female body and its many nuances.

The subject is a licensed masseuse in Switzerland.

Agents are cautioned that the subject is extremely engaging and disarming and to avoid at all costs being seduced by the subject's substantial charms as there is a distinct threat of the agent "going rogue" and abandoning all thought of betrayal of the subject for the mission or life without the subject- intelligence collection may suffer as a result. The subject's seduction technique is varied, subtle and long term- resulting in a "creeping attachment" which builds over time.

Note: Sexual contact between the subject and the agent seeking to remain objective with respect to the subject is strongly discouraged.

General Demeanor:

The subject has a disarming look and demeanor, is usually quiet and reserved, appearing professional and intelligent but conservative. The subject is cautious when meeting new people and will not be prone to boasting or even self-exposition unless and until comfortable with the surroundings and the company. The subject is often seen at higher end establishments in San Francisco and is prone to drink Gray Goose Martinis when Chopin vodka is unavailable. The subject occasionally is seen at more conventional and colleagete venues. The subject appears to be a social drinker and is rarely seen to over indulge in liquor. The subject is a non-smoker. Stolen health records indicate that the subject is healthy and disease free. Subject tests negative for marijuana depravities.

Political Leanings:

The subject is decidedly fiscally conservative and socially extremely liberal. Subject is a free speech hawk, vehemently pro-choice, at least cynical if not hostile to modern manifestations of organized religion. The subject bristles at the suggestion he might be a republican but enjoys a reputation among friends and colleagues for being a capitalist thinker.

Current Disposition:

The subject currently maintains a cover as an executive and shareholder of a small private banking firm based in Europe with a new branch office in San Francisco. This gives the subject the opportunity and means to conduct operations in and around the West Coast, as well as the Midwest (Chicago) and the East (New York). The subject appears to take 90 days of vacation per year, often in the Caribbean or Europe.

We suspect, but cannot confirm, the suspect to be a current foreign intelligence asset.

Operative's Objective:

This is a "sleeper" deep cover operation. Your task will be to get close to the subject, and by (ahem) whatever means necessary establish a relationship with the subject and gain his trust and confidence. Ideally, you should cultivate a close relationship with the subject over as long a period as possible, perhaps even years, during which time you will maintain cover as the subject's associate (or other unspecified relation) until further tasked by the bureau. Once you have introduced yourself into his affairs you should endeavor to learn anything you can about his activities, interests, desires, travels, business affairs, philosophies, intellectual pursuits, hobbies, likes, dislikes and so forth.

Operational Methodology:

The successful agent will be between the ages of 22 and 32 with a preference to the 24-26 age group. Younger agents must have substantial operational experience to be considered for selection. Agents should be between 5'4 and 5'11 with a preference for the 5'6 - 5'10 range. Agents should be highly intelligent and intellectually as well as psychologically sound. Agents should possess exceptional educational experience. The successful agent should mirror the subject's political and intellectual beliefs and pursuits as closely as possible. The agent must be of slim to athletic build. The subject's rumored eye for members of the opposite sex with red hair has been noted and should recommend redheaded agents as leading (but not exclusive) candidates for the operation. All agent candidates must possess a current passport. The successful agent will have completed the following agency courses and be proficient in the skills taught therein:

Espionage 104 - Snobby Cocktail Parties as a Source of Espionage Contacts
Espionage 105 - Gathering Intelligence in Dives
Espionage 106 - Etiquette for Agents
International Espionage 202 - International Travel Clinic
Intelligence 302 - Political Analysis
Intelligence 404 - International Affairs and Current Events
Espionage 202 - Encryption
Espionage 405 - Honey Traps and Male Subjects
Espionage 504 - Advanced Seduction Techniques (Female Agents - Restricted Enrollment)
Espionage 509 - Therapeutic Massage, Hypnosis Pillowtalk and Afterglow in Interrogation Techniques

Tactics:

The agent is counseled to engage the subject in conversation over drinks in or in the vicinity of San Francisco, request further meetings of increased frequency, intensity and (ahem) intimacy until the subject's trust is gained. The agent should seek to be by the subject's side whenever possible (within the bounds of her own professional developmental requirements) and maintain a constant- if witty and intellectually challenging- tete-a-tete with the subject. Over the several weeks that follow the agent should engage the subject in a myriad of activities involving travel, dancing, dinner, cocktails, socialization and otherwise attract the attention of the subject.

Because of prior history specific to the subject agents are strongly recommended to make efforts at appearing financially independent. Indications of financial dependence on the subject are likely to exhibit a negative response from the subject and may terminate the relationship prematurely.

I understand that this is a big decision for a young agent. You need not decide now. If you wish to take the operation submit your completed application via the anonymous remailing system (photo is mandatory) with a description of the agent's qualifications and skills as well as the tactics and methodology the agent expects to use to complete the first phase of the operation. All applications will receive replies.

If your application is accepted you will be given cover documentation, survellance photos and other personal details of the subject and may attend other briefings relevant to the operation. A handler will be assigned and contact codes and communications security procedures will be outlined.

Thanks for coming in, Agent. Let us know what you decide... and good luck!

Other ways to contact me: Dead Drop #304

Notes on How to Perform Cunnlingus

2006-02-06T06:59:00.000-08:00

As of late it has come to my attention that a lot of my fellow men suck at going down on girls. I think part of it comes from apathy; some of it comes from a lack of experience and some of it comes from a lack of understanding.

The apathy I cannot help with. Most likely if you don't care as to whether you're the greatest greatest she's ever had, you also don't care about things like how fast you can lap Willow Springs (1:30's with street tires). And that to me is just sad.

Understanding I can help with. I guess the most important piece of understanding is that male and female parts originate from the same embryonic tissues and the nerves that goto those tissues are reasonably similar. Knowing this gives us a common point of reference.

Here is how things roughly match up.
Female / Male
Clitoris / head of penis
Inner lips / shaft of penis
Outer lips / testacles
G-spot / something we don't reach

So for us to put light pressure on a clitoris is the same as if a girl were giving us light pressure on the head of our penis.

The way those nervous impulses are perceived by our brains is does not translate 100% the same way. For example, imagine sexual stimulus as entering keystrokes on a computer game. The object of the game is to hit the "H" key as many times as possible in a smooth and controlled manner. Well for guys H works, so do G, Y, U, J, N, B and maybe the space bar. So if you're in the neighborhood with what you are doing it's not as good as H but it's pretty good. For women H give a positive response but too much of G, Y, U, J, N, B will drown out the response given by H.

What does this mean? It means that we have to be spot on precise with what we are doing. What is H? H is both a spot and a speed of tonguing (which will vary with arousal). The spot to the best of my knowledge is pretty small. It is approximately 2.5mm below the clitoris and is about 10mm in size. This means when we are going down on her that the total swept area is only about 15-17mm in size and reaches from the clitoris/hood complex down.

The motion of licking should be slow-fast-slow. All of her hardware is complex and for complex systems the preferred rate is always slow-fast-slow. If you do not go slow-fast-slow she perceives it as a "sharp" feeling. As her arousal increases you will have to increase the rate at which your tongue is moving. Once she is close enough to orgasm the sharp feeling she can deal with but only once she's good-N-worked up. So this is H and everything else you do; tonguing the hole, nibbling in lips etc falls under the category of G, Y, U, J, N, B.

A word about rates. As with everything delta rate; the rate @ which your rate of licking changes is best changed slow-fast-slow. Think about your rates as a sinusoidal curve. Slow at first, fast getting her up on arousal and the slow towards the finish; optionally you can finish fast.

The entire time while you are doing this you're also sucking lightly just enough to engorge that critical 15-17mm area with blood, but not too hard as that is part of what leads to over stimulation.

A word about orgasms. When women orgasm it is different than when we orgasm. The uterus plays a large role in a normal healthy orgasm. It's muscular and it contracts. Much like a weight lifter with a weight belt; you can give the uterus something to push against which will increase the strength and intensity of orgasms. To do this you place your hand on her lower abdomen about where the uterus is and push firmly with the force being transmitted in about a 45 degree angle towards her upper body when she is close to orgasm. Note to be careful about doing this as a push in the wrong place or wrong orientation can and will make her want to pee.

A note about types of orgasm. Women have 2 distinct types of orgasm clitoral and vaginal. Clitoral orgasms are analogous to our orgasms. They are peaky, intense and generally it's not something that can happen for long stretches. They also have vaginal orgasms which are more like a wave of orgasm that flows over their body. Vaginal orgasms when stimulated properly can go on for hours. The most efficient way I have found for stimulating a vaginal orgasm is the G-spot it's a textured area inside the front/top of the vagina about a finger in and stroking with light/medium/hard/med/light pressure and well trimmed nails works wonderfully. You can also time your clitoral and vaginal stimulation so that they compliment each other.

The hardware and software that run both orgasms are different enough that you can stimulate both pathways which results in both orgasms happening together. The amount of stimulation for a vaginal orgasm is about 50% greater than a clitoral one so focusing on the licking approximately 50% more will get both orgasms to happen pretty close together. Oh; vanginal orgasms seem to work better when they are pushed to orgasm slowly, clitoral orgasms seem to work better when they are pushed over quickly (but not always)

Reading what her body is telling you is important. Things to watch out for are muscle contraction, noises, wetness, reddening of the lips, and body movement.

Her breathing and her body movement tell you the approximate speed that her body wants to be stimulated; for best effect you want to be close to this rate. As she get more aroused this rate will increase and as it increases the rate @ which your are stimulating her should increase also. Even rhythmic muscle contractions are good; they are what you are looking for. When you get an arrhythmic muscle contraction/and or arrhythmic noise chances are that you just did something that she doesn't like (hitting G, Y, U, J, N, B) so you don't do that again unless she says something differently. Wetness and reddening/warmth of the lips increasing through out tells you that you are indeed doing what you should be doing.

Interestingly one of the things that help with female orgasms is simply how relaxed they are going into sex. It's for this reason that I try to always spend 10-15 min giving a backrub and rubbing legs/feet before going down.

Every woman is different; what I've posted up will work for about 90% of the girls out there. The thing to note is that sometimes the nerves are wired differently which means that her center of pleasure; that critical 15-17mm will be in a different place. Generally she'll have a pretty good idea of where that is and will tell you if you ask.

Lastly I do a debriefing after. Questions like "what worked for you", "did I do anything that didn't help get you off", "when you did X, what was happening", etc. You’d be surprised what you can learn. Opentrackers have this, racers do this, and pilots landing on a carrier get each landing critiqued.

Hopefully this will help some girl explain to her guy what he needs to know. I've noticed that too often women have no freaking idea just what good cunnilingus feels like and are often pleasantly amused @ the different sensations they feel.

Free Advice

2006-02-05T08:21:00.000-08:00

If you are an alien disguised as human and or have the technology to travel physically through time I need your help! Also if you are from, I'm not sure this is the correct pronunciation: The planet (Valnator) please reply. My life has been severely tampered with and cursed by very evil men of my past. I need to be able to: Travel physically back in time. Rewind my life including my age. Be able to remember what I know now so that I can prevent my life from being tampered with again after I go back. I am in great danger and need this immediately! Only if you are an alien or have this technology please send leave a comment, Thanks

2006-02-04T07:45:00.000-08:00

RANT: Pregnancy

Who in the hell's idea was this shit? Let's give a woman a f-in' uterus, some handle-bar like tubes comin' off it, and smack some "ovaries" on the end, so she can MAKE BABIES. Yeah! Good idea!!

NO!

F**K NO!

Alright, to start off...yeah, I'm pregnant. And no, not the "Shit the condom broke, and I don't even know his name, how the hell am I gonna finish middle school now?" kinda pregnant. The pregnant by someone I knew I wanted to have children with, spend the rest of my life with, and consequently got married to, kinda pregnant. (And no, we didn't get hitched because of the rugrat to be, we didn't even know at the time...)
*Ahem* Anyway - although I do know for sure that I want to be a parent, can't we just skip this part? I mean really? Can my hubby and I trade off month for month?
Why? Here's why:
1. I HATE my favorite food. Yet I eat things a goat would puke at the thought of.
2. Anyone need a pool toy? Well, you can use my pasty, white bloated ass. Breathing makes me bloat. THINKING about breathing makes me bloat.
3. I am the definition of bitch. Look in the dictionary. (I'll wait while you dig it out and dust it off.) Good? Ok, now flip to the B's. Yeah, there, the picture next to bitch? Thats yours truly!
4. Suddenly I have narcolepsy. I fall asleep while sleeping! My bedtime is now 5:30pm. Most of the time I'm not even home from work yet. (Sorry to the guy I almost swerved into on the highway yesterday!)
5. Mysterious aches and twitches. If it weren't for the date on my driver's license, I would honestly believe I'm 60. WTF? I can't even bend over anymore!
6. Nausea. Know what if feels like to be just one shot off praying to the porcelain goddess all night on a night out with the girls? Imagine that ALL day, sans the night o' fun.
7. Stretch marks. Geeeeezus. I'm not even SHOWING and I'm getting stretch marks. I'm gonna look like an albino tiger by the time this is all over.
8. Zits. Holy Clean & Clear, Batman! My fingernails get zits. My zits get zits. Go ahead, change your face wash, I dare ya.
9. Migraines. At least for me. Jiminy cricket, I know there is increased blood, but does it ALL have to do to my head, atthesametime?
10. Gas. As in walking farts. And not just walking farts, sleeping farts, cuddling with the husband farts, working farts, driving farts, and farting farts.

Adopt. Save yourself. There are millions of children out there that need you. Take it from a Prego.

2006-02-03T09:51:00.000-08:00

Dear Sir,

I have a fat ass. I'm fully aware of my rotundness and the amount of space that I take when sitting on the train. While I've recently lost some weight and continue to lose weight, I still am larger than your average train rider. One might even say that I am large and in charge. Why is that you ask? Because I am big, I know I'm big, and I'm doing my damndest not to burden others with my size, especially on the train. It is for this reason that I strategically choose my seat on the train on my commute to and from work in the loop every day. You see, I am one of the lucky one's who lives near a far stop and works near a stop where hardly anyone gets on. I almost always get a seat on the train. This is the strategy that I follow, in order of preference:

- If there is a single seater row, take it.
- If there are no single seats available, always take a seat on the inside of a completely empty two seater, leaving the aisle free
- If the only completely empty two-seater left is the sideways seat nearest the door, take the seat farthest from the door and metal partition so that in the event that someone sits next to me, I have some room to scoot over.
- If there are no two seaters available, stand.

By following this strategy of chosing seats on the train, I leave the decision to sit with the fat girl up to someone else's discretion. I've found that a majority of the people who choose to sit with me are petite and as such are unbothered by my fat ass sitting next to them. My absolute refusal to foist myself upon anyone already seated is also highly efficient in decreasing the incidents of annoying anyone with my fat ass. Taking great pride in my plan, I thought that I had train riding down to an exact science. That is, until you came along. Little did I realize that my near perfect train sitting strategy had one tiny flaw which you so deftfully reavealed.

Sir, you too have a fat ass. Perhaps it hadn't occurred to you, or maybe you still picture yourself as the much smaller, younger man with more hair from your college days. Another possibility is that you have severe depth perception issues that have caused you to seek the care of an opthomologist. Regardless of the cause of your denial of the self-evident, the simple truth remains that you are a large man. Realize and embrace your stature! It's OK. As stated above, I'm fat too. I fully understand the fat person's plight in the world.

Congratulations, you have successfully joined the ranks of many fat people all over Chicago. That being said, I take it as my duty to inform you that due to the nature of reality, two bodies may not simultaneously occupy the same space. Similarly, two fatasses cannot sit in the same two seater on the train, especially in the sideways two seater with the metal partition nearest to the door. I can understand that you enjoy a challenge and would love to prove the nature of reality wrong. However, I would've deeply appreciated it if you had found another fat ass to take part in your experiment, preferably one who had given prior written consent.

Perhaps the scent of my tuna sandwich from lunch hadn't completely vanished from my breath with the sugar-free gum I had chewed in the afternoon, and you mistook me for a sardine. Also still full from your lunch of various batter dipped and fried seafood, you may have been feeling very sardine-like when you squeezed your fat ass into the seat next to me deciding that that was the time, and I was your gal for conducting the penultimate experiment and proving reality wrong. Much to my dismay and to that of the two sitting perpendicular to us, your flawlessly executed although painfully unproductive maneuver proved your hypothesis that one could indeed fit two fatasses into the two seater nearest the door dreadfully wrong. Instead of our two fat asses occupying a similar space, I had been squeezed partially onto the laps of the couple who were sitting perpendicular to us as well as having my leg wrenched into the support and grip pole. Although I am thankful for its exsistance, the two seater certainly needing the support with you trying to squeeze your fat ass into it next to mine, I discovered the next morning that the pole left a little bruisey reminder of your failed plight.

While understanding that your dreams had just been shattered, as your test subject, I could've done without your heavy breathing and sighs of annoyance, which only caused your biomass to take up more space and further served to prove you wrong. Additionally, post experiment, when you were desparately trying to release your mind from failure's strong grip by rummaging through your bag to pull out some sort of reading material, a code of ethics and best practices manual, to find out where, oh god where, could you have absolutely gone wrong to face such career suicide and demise, you could've shed some mercy upon me, your severely disappointed test subject, and refrained from consistently elbowing me in the side and placing your arms and biomass on top of mine. As can be expected, your genius was unfaltered and you still could not find anything in the manual to explain the failure of the experiment. Unfortunately this realization made you nervous and caused you to twitch, shake, and fidget nervously, sending me further off the seat with additional biomass jiggling upon me. Yet you still pressed forth into the manual, searching for answers you knew were not there, flipping page after page while still subconsciously yet physically still trying to make everything right.

I know that I have been fortunate. I usually take the brown home, but this evening I diverted my usual path home to take part in a container gardening class at whole foods which caused me to take the red train to howard and fall helplessly into your revolutionary scientific experiment as well as into your loving elbows and fat ass. I value and cherish every single moment that we spent together. I respect the way that you tore open my strategic train sitting plan so that I could further perfect it. I know you had my best interests in mind.

Thank you sir, I owe you a debt far greater than one could ever imagine. However, if you ever pull that bullshit again and try to squeeze your fatass in the small seat next to the one where I am already seated, I'm going to reach under your spare tire, between your globulous legs, grab onto your nutsac and rip your balls right off of your body. Mind your size, asshole, and learn to have some respect and common courtesy for those around you, especially the fat asses. I would love to write more, but it's time for lunch. I think we both know better than to keep a fatass from his or her food.

Yours truly,

Girl with fat ass
XOXO