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Travel Boner

November 5, 2011
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So I’m headed out on an international trip this morning with my girlfriend/partner/BFF. I opted out of the full body scanner at the airport and received my first TSA pat down. Is it weird I got a boner?

I texted my friend to ask him and his reply was, “Tell him not to rub the lamp if he doesn’t want to see the Genie.”

This is going to be a great trip, ya’ll.


November 1, 2011

I love social media. I have accounts on Facebook, Google+, and Twitter that are updated regularly. When I found that I could link a Twitter account with my WordPress account and get Tweets automatically created and Tweeted when I posted a new blog entry, I immediately set it up.

There is something quite satisfying to me after posting a blog update and then seeing it instantly blasted off into the Twitterverse. When I posted my Halloween blog entry, I jumped over to Twitter to check out the WordPress generated link. I noticed that I had 5 more followers than I had an hour earlier. “Bad Ass!”, I thought. Twitter was starting to recognize it’s newest rising star and pretty soon I would be trending and would have a million followers!

Then I took a closer look at my newest followers. One is “the sex shop I can trust.” The next three had the word ‘kegel’ either in the title, user name or description. The last one seems to be a legitimate retired USPS worker and grandfather.

It boggles my mind how the spam bots on Twitter work. Do they really think that the sheer quantity of fake user accounts following me will convince me to use their kegel products? Of course they do! I’m sure this is how the conversation with myself would go if I were to give in to their kegel seductions.

“It’s Monday morning. There’s something I’m forgetting to do…oh, right! Thanks for the reminder @kegeluniverse! It’s time for my morning kegel exercises!

Now that I’m done with my exercises, I wonder what I can do to make my kegels more fun and entertaining. Wow, @moonglowbabe has the answer – 1/2 off of kegel exercise panties at!

Aw, thanks @kegelprincess for reminding me that tighter *is* better.

Oh, look, @edencafe has let me know about their GLBQT Eden Porn Club anniversary.

Now I need to go a sex shop I can trust for a new high torque, multi-speed, water proof dildo. @edenfantasys has me covered with a website that is powered by thousands of reviews.

What would I do without all of these great spam bots helping me do my kegels and keep me swimming in gay porn? Hooray, Internets!”

I just wish I knew what the hell a kegel *IS*.

Halloween Rocks

October 31, 2011

This is how we kick it in my neighborhood. Scaring the shit out of kids 10 and under.

This family has run their Haunted Forest for a few years now and I have not actually been. This year though, the sign sealed the deal. I am SO THERE. Who doesn’t want to watch people jump, scream, cry, and run away when they are frightened? Like it or not, I think people are the most honest when they are startled. You get a small glimpse of who somebody really is in that one instant of total terror.

If a hand in the dark reaches out from the ground and grabs my ankle, I’m pretty sure *this kid* will require a parent…and some clean skivvies.

Best. Kid. Ever.

October 29, 2011
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I came home from work to find this waiting for me in the refrigerator.

I wept.

My First Internet Crush

October 28, 2011

I actually don’t read a lot of blogs. Every once in a while I will read one that is linked from Twitter or mentioned in IRC. I just haven’t found a lot of people who I am interested in regularly reading what they have to say. It’s totally ironic, and a little hypocritical of me, that I’ve started a blog of my own.

Until I found her. I think I may have my first bona fide internet crush, and I’ve been on the internet for a LONG time. It’s not an internet crush in a creepy, sexual, stalkerish, find her IRL kind of way. It’s more of, “I can’t wait to hear what she has to say next so I can laugh out loud and make the people in the cubes around me wonder what I’m doing over here” kind of crush.

I totally get Jenny and her sense of humor. I can hear the correct emphasis on the words she bolds, italicises, encloses in asterisks, and places in all caps. Her writing style is how I talk to myself in my head ALL DAY LONG. I love her style, her topics, her storytelling, and her philosophies ( be furiously happy!).  I don’t *really* want to kiss Jenny because she has a husband and I have a girlfriend/partner/BFF, but I would like to kiss her brain. Just a quick little peck. A brain smooch, if you will. No tongue. (Okay, now that may be internet stalker creepy.)

I know there are a LOT of other good blogs out there and I am going to make an honest and real attempt to regularly read more of them. I know that following others is good for them and will also help make me a better writer.

But Jenny will always be my first. <3

Brain Damage and Sammiches

October 27, 2011

I heard a famous comedian say one time that all teenagers were brain-damaged. Not permanently, just while they are in their angsty teenage years. Considering that I was a brain-damaged teenager when I heard this theory, I didn’t understand it, pretended to laugh, and shrugged it off.

Now that I have my very own brain-damaged fifteen year old, I find myself sometimes thinking, “Holy. Shit. Did that really just come out of your mouth?”

My son has to be at the bus stop in his mother’s neighborhood at 6 am. It’s about 5 miles from my house and about a 10 minute drive. That means I have to get up at 5 am to make sure that he is up and keep us both on schedule to be out the door by 5:50 am. Without fail, my son will sleep through his alarm and I will have to rouse him. It’s hard enough getting myself out of bed (did I really need that extra beer?), but then I get the extra special joy of waking up a grumpy man-child.

Before the school year started, my amazing partner suggested that Tommy make his lunch the night before going to bed to help keep us on schedule. Genius!

Except that Tommy has also become “teenage lazy”. Every night he has to be reminded to make his lunch. He waits until the very last minute and when he does do it, he may just put some chips in a bag and declare, “I won’t be hungry at lunch tomorrow.”

One recent morning, in my bleary haze of pre-caffeine idiocy, I asked Tommy if his lunch was ready. I received a grunt and he gestured to a bag of chips and a granola bar laid out on the counter. “Where is your sandwich,” I ignorantly blurted. “I don’t like the way my sandwich tastes when I make it the night before,” he replied while keeping his head down in his bowl of cereal and noisily slurping milk.

Do what?

“Dude, all you like is some sandwich meat between two pieces of dry bread,” I implored. He does not use condiments, cheese, nor foliage. I could understand a PB&J getting soggy, but what harm might befall a pre-built dry meat sandwich? “I just don’t, okay,” he mumbled in an irritated voice between milk slurps.

As I stood there, trying not topple over and fall back asleep on the kitchen floor, I weighed the options of fighting this battle…at 5:15 in the morning. I had nothing. My mind was too foggy and wanted to be back  in my warm bed. “Just make sure you get it made and we aren’t late,” was all I could muster as I stumbled off to the shower.

Teenage brain damage. And teenage manipulation.

Somebody wake me when he is twenty-four.