Just a Thought

Ahhhh...back to reality. I can't help but wonder if ther country is going to have a brown out before we fall (or slide as the case may be) over the "Fecal" cliff in a few days since our elected officials have already exhibited what their brain matter consists of...just a thought.

Naughty X-Mas Cookies

Those Cookies are at it again thanks to the Swedish company Pipparkakan for making some naughty cutters. They say 'How about serving breakfast in bed with hot Kama Sutra toast or why not invite friends over for a lovely brunch with enticing fried eggs? We honor out gingerbread pigs and goats, but now they are finally here, the gingerbread cutters that make the Christmas tree rise and the candles glow.' http://www.pipparkakan.se/PIPPARKAKAN.html

About Swinging

Here's an interesting article from Yahoo News of all places that might shed a little light on this subject for you: Swinging Happens: Call it wife-swapping, call it creepy, but no matter what you call it, there’s no denying this alternative lifestyle is on the upswing. http://www.youbeauty.com/relationships/swinging-happens-2

I’LL SECOND THAT EMOTION

I had begun to start writing this several days ago…and then something happened that should never have happened. The emotions I was going to talk about evaporated into a cliché. Needless to say my thought process, along with the world around me, changed and not in a good way, the humor I had hoped to bring to this little rant immediately disappeared and may never return again in the future. As the story unfolded, through every available news source, we would learn twenty-eight people died in all. Twenty of them children between six and seven years old, seven adults tried to protect them from one lone gunman who, in the end, took his own life… but, everyone knows all about this by now. I won’t bore you with a re-hash of it all. As is usually the case when things like this happen (all too frequently these days it seems) heartfelt condolences and decries about how senseless (and preventable) these tragedies are begin to pour out from all corners of the globe pointing fingers in every direction in an effort to exorcise…what? We, as a society, have short memories when it comes to genuine human interaction. The bodies of the lost are barely cold and eulogized yet every numb nut out there breaks out their soapbox and proclaims “We need to (Insert the half baked plan of your choice here) right now!” not really having thought anything completely through. We heartlessly disrespect the fallen and the grief of their families in an effort to grab attention for our own misguided cause at their expense. We do this knowing full well deep inside…we won’t remember anyone’s names a week from now! The only ones who will are the families who will live with this loss for the rest of their lives. Sadly, by then, there will be another tragedy to bring fresh fodder to the non-discussion. The left will still be blaming EVERYONE and want all of the guns no matter how ludicrous a possibility that would be. The survivalists (a mixed bag of political beliefs) will still be worrying they’re going to be used as “scapegoats” for everything that happens while they practice shooting and blowing shit up in the middle of nowhere. The right will still be hiding behind the Bible and their NRA contributions. The NRA will still be largely silent and stand behind their antiquated slogans and bumper stickers. Their slogan “Guns don’t kill people, People kill people” is absolutely true. Minimizing the guns is only a small fraction of the issue. Better background checks, tighter control of gun sales (to include those by the Government), better mental health care, better education, better ways to resolve conflicts need to be taught and discussed. We need to figure out a way to get back to being HUMAN. We need to re-learn how not to be knee-jerk reactionary lemmings and seek understanding and common ground again. It wasn’t all that long ago we were on the path to get there…then, somehow, we took that left turn in Albuquerque Bugs Bunny warned us about. The solution…as it always has been, is somewhere in the middle right next to the donuts on the conference table nobody is willing to sit down at. It’s time we actually did.

PARALLEL LIVES

Mike finally has woken from the stupor of the past twenty-four hours. He had been painting and binging until he could no longer maintain consciousness and now finds himself within reach of the bed he never made it to on the floor looking and smelling like shit. He sits up and collects his thoughts as the rumbling in his stomach loudly announces how empty it is and glances around the space he calls home to see the empty bottles and discarded fast food wrappers and bags while he visually verifies what little he has is still there and hasn’t gone “missing” while he was passed out. This is hardly the life he was supposed to have. He was a graduate of a prestigious art school who blew the doors off the competition while he was there wining award after award…along with one other person…unfortunately. Across town Mike’s twin brother Matt, also an artist who went to the same school, has just come back from a last minute run to the deli not too far from where his brother lives for some items needed before guests arrive later in the evening for a “post-gallery party” with some friends after the opening of his one man show at a nearby gallery. His wife Cheryl is in the shower beginning her preparation for the evening’s festivities as Matt unloads his bags and begins prepping the food and chilling the wine, caviar and cooked shrimp. Mike makes himself presentable as best he can. He’s hungry, dirty, broke and in need of more alcohol but he knows what he must do to get what he needs so out the door and into the night he goes. He’s not proud of what he’s about to subject himself to but in his mind he justifies it all with a “You’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do to survive.” thought in his head. He makes his way down the street and passes the deli, that unbeknownst to him his brother had been at a short time earlier, and looks in to see the cases of meat, fish and cheese all brightly lit up with cured meats and sausages hanging above them. The walls of the small store were filled with fresh breads and specialty foods and wine. The bins filled with olives and pickles of all types…just like they’ve always been even when Mike and Matt were small boys and they would go there with their parents or grandparents. Mike doesn’t go in. He can’t afford anything in there right now and he’s too big to get away with snagging a pickle like he did years ago so he continues on down the street and around the corner in silence. Where he is going poses more danger to him than stealing a pickle. Matt wanders in to the bedroom to check on Cheryl’s progress and change himself. He sees her chosen outfit lying on the bed. A clingy sheer backless black dress with rhinestone accents and a pair of black platform pumps…that’s all she’ll be wearing and she’ll stun the world in it again. He takes his clothes off and heads into the bathroom for a shower and sees his wife standing in front of the mirror putting her makeup on wearing nothing but a thin gold waist chain around her hips highlighting her athletic frame. Matt steps up behind her and kisses her on the neck as their eyes meet seductively in the mirror and his hands lightly stroke her sides. A gasp and a shudder emit from her as she reaches for the counter in an effort to maintain her balance while her lipstick bounces into the sink with a clatter. Cheryl turns and puts her hands on Matt’s shoulders as he raises her petite body up slightly and sits her on the counter. Mike has made his way further into the darkness encountering few people in the process. The ones he does see are of “questionable” purpose on this street. Matt has stepped closer into Cheryl and gently begins to slide his cock into her, freshly shaven, pussy as he continues to kiss her neck avoiding mussing up her fresh makeup. There is still more to do and people to see and play with later. It would be in poor taste to start out with that “freshly fucked” look right from the get-go. As Mike passes an alleyway a middle aged man in a football jersey approaches him. Mike had expected to be approached by someone but not this balding, chubby, average looking person who looks very out of place outside of the suburban neighborhood where he must live. Mike is offered fifty dollars to give the man a blowjob. Mike counters with “make it a hundred and you can have more than a blowjob.” Which the man quickly agrees to and hands Mike the money as they step into the alley. He puts the money in his pocket, unzips his pants and leans into a trash bin for support. The stench is overwhelming but he does everything he can to block the whole thing out of his mind as the man’s meat finds its way up Mike’s ass. The pleasure Matt is finding inside Cheryl has become intoxicating and the pace of their fucking is increasing with each thrust. Mike’s “patron” has begun to grunt and pick up speed causing Mike to do the same while reaching down and grab his own cock and begin to frantically stroke it. Matt and Cheryl’s breathing has become hard and animal like. So has Mike’s over on the other side of the city. At the same time Mike and Matt let out a loud scream that is part orgasm, part anguish and somewhere over the city the two screams meet and mesh sounding as one before fading into the night sky. Matt gently kisses his wife as he jumps into the shower to quickly clean up and get dressed. They don’t want to be late for the opening. There are deals to be made and playmates still to enjoy. Mike looks around to see his benefactor has disappeared back into the shadows from where he came as Mike fished around in the trash bin to find something to clean himself up with before re-doing his pants. He makes his way back up the street to the deli only to find it closed. He remembered his brother’s opening is tonight and boards a bus for the hour or so trip to the gallery. “There’s always food and booze at those.” He thinks to himself as he sat there in the silence of the nearly empty bus. Matt and Cheryl waste no time in making the rounds and glad-handing the guests upon their arrival. Everyone is in a sexy and festive mood so the drinks and conversation flow quickly and freely. In what seemed to be a blink of an eye it is decided to take the party home for more food, drink and “intimate” fun. The crowd pours out of the gallery and off to Matt and Cheryl’s. A short time later Mike gets off the bus and walks the two blocks to the gallery only to find it closed. He looks through the window to see the thirty or so paintings his brother had shown that night. All neatly hung with the small title and price cards affixed to the wall next to them. Many had the magic red dot on them signifying they had been sold that night. Mike smiled a weak smile as he wished it were his stuff not his brother’s. He dejectedly turns and heads back towards the bus stop. His footsteps echo loudly down the vacant street as he plans his next destination. Somewhere out there is a hamburger and a beer with his name on it. He’ll eat and stock up on liquid supplies and return to his place to paint some more and, hopefully, get something to come out right. Matt will be engulfed in a sea of passionate flesh for the remainder of the evening. Tomorrow morning he’ll go to the gallery and collect his check for the works sold tonight. He’ll then return home and begin to work on a new series. Both he and his brother will be looking for that all elusive “new edge” to make their work continue to be relevant. One or the other may succeed. Maybe they both will or maybe they’ll both fail. When the sun comes up in the morning it will be a new day filled with opportunity. It remains to be seen who takes advantage of it.