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Monday, March 21, 2011

It could happen.

Do you remember Judy Tenuta, the comic?  She seems to be out of the mainstream media these days.  I remember watching her perform stand up.  She'd be in the middle of some outrageous story, such as: "I was snow skiing in the alps with the Pope and.... " she'd get a laugh of incredulity from the audience.  Her response would be to give the audience a look and say: "What? It could happen."

I've been told that I have a vivid imagination.  That is indeed the case.  I suppose it developed when I was a kid in part to stave off boredom, and as I mentioned in a previous post, I used to tell myself stories to put myself to sleep. 

I reading Ms. Marie's recent post about the limits of her play, and a link she had to another post about the same, I came across some more artwork by Xrenderer.  Speaking of a vivid imagination, below is some of his work:

Three piercings, interesting tattoos.  I think that one on the scrotum would be next to impossible, yes?

This looks like fun.  All that ornamentation and he still has body hair? 

Perhaps I should have waited until next Valentine's day, given the heart theme?

Friday, March 18, 2011

Nothing's simple.

I sometimes find an interesting bit on the web, and then I lose track of where I saw it.  Such was the case with a post in a 'group' setting that I read, and I think about from time to time.  It was written by a woman.  She thought she'd found the man of her dreams.  Everything was great in their marriage except that her husband had no interest in participating in the kind of sexual relationship that she had envisioned they would have.  That being one wherein she would master him.  He would be subject to whippings and so on as she would have it.  She said that she thought it would change, or that she could change him, once they were married.  At times she felt as if she would explode, (or something like that), if she didn't get to release her pent up desire.

Relationships and marriages are complicated things to achieve and keep up.  Much like a house.  You have to keep after it all the time, cleaning, picking up, painting the eaves, keeping water out of it.

Even when people plan carefully their path they sometimes find themselves in places they don't expect, and perhaps never wanted to be.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Irish Folk Tales

Happy Saint Patrick's Day, Y'all! 

This from 'The Henpecked Giant' in the book 'Irish Wonders', popular folk tales as told by the people of Ireland:

"But its me own belafe that the most sarious mishtake av Finn's was in marryin' a little woman.  There's thim that says all wimmin is a mishtake be nacherbut there's a big differ bechuxt a little woman an' a big wan, the the little wans have sowls too big for their bodies, so are always lookin' out for a big man to marry, an the bigger he is, the betther they like him , as knowin' they can manage him all the aisier.  So it was wid Finn an' his little wife, for be hook an' crook she rejuiced him in that obejince that if she towld him for to go an' shtand on his head in the corner he'd do it wid the risk av his life, bekase he'd wanted to die an' go to heaven as he heard the priest say there was no marryin' there, an' though he did n't dare to hint it, he belaved in his sowl that the rayzon was the wimmin did n't get that far."

Monday, March 7, 2011

When I was a boy....

...we had a cottage on a lake in the country.  It was a rural resort community.  I spent all the summers of my youth on or about the water.  I can smell the lake right now, in my minds eye. Water, blue-green algae, two stroke oil and gasoline.

There was no trash pick up there, so dad used to burn some of the things he didn't feel like hauling all the way back to the city to dispose of, like the newspapers that he used to line the cat's litter box. (Smells a little like cigarettes when it burns, but less repulsive.)

Anyhow, he used an old 55 gallon drum as a burning barrel.  Those things were everywhere in those days.  People used them to float their docks.  They'd spring a leak and sink, becoming a nesting area for fish, or sometimes just be floating around the lake half full of water.  A hazard to swimmers and boaters alike. 

That barrel used to get really hot.  I was five or six or so.  I would wonder; 'How would it feel to touch that thing?'  One day, my curiosity got the better of me.  I could resist temptation no longer and I put both of my hands on it.

To date, this was not one of my better ideas.  I didn't get burned too bad.  Blisters on my fingers, they're all still intact.  No one bothered to ask me why I'd done it.

For years thereafter, I had to resist that temptation to burn myself just to feel what it was like. I got over it, and found healthier ways to make the endorphins flow.  Am I therefore a masochist?  I suppose by some definitions yes, but I've never really liked labels as such.

So, what made me think of this was that I've read some posts about branding of late.  I like the idea. As a symbol of ownership, love and devotion, done by someone I want to belong to.