Resolutions...

I'm at a complete loss as how to describe my Christmas and New Year...but at least it's over for another year and my liver is still functioning.

There were some highlights...but they all involved the consumption of illegal substances- so I'm hesitant to divulge too much. There were also some lowlights...but these things only happen for a reason- or so I'm told. I think they'd make some great stories but I'm too lazy to start at the beginning and tell them properly right now.

I've been pretty slack at blogging for the past few weeks and am seriously starting to debate whether or not I should go through some of my old diaries just for some more material to post. And having said that I will turn to an old personal favourite of mine for when the old writer's bloc hits and do a TMI Tuesday.

Yes. Even though it's Sunday.

It's That bad.



1. Saddam Hussein - How would you have executed him? Cut off his balls? Cut off his dick? Other?

Am I the only person who Almost shed a tear for Saddam? I didn't- but I came pretty close. Not because he was a convicted murderer of thousands; because for That he probably Did deserve to die. I think what he did to his own people was repugnant but I would have left him to rot in jail for the rest of his life knowing he would never set foot outside it a free man again.

I feel saddened when any life is cut short by someone else. I feel saddened knowing that regardless of what he did Someone(presumably his family members) still loved him and would be devastated by his death. I feel saddened that his dignity was taken in death even though he gave his victims none. Why? Why do feel sorry for a dictator who murdered countless thousands?

Because I really don't know.

2. How would you rate your kinkiness level? Rated G? Rated PG? Rated R? Rated X? Details! This is suppose to be TMI! Tell me!!!

Honestly? Probably PG. I don't mind watching a bit of hard porn but I baulk at the kinkier sort of movies. And you can keep your golden showers, thanks. I owned a good vibrator but it's lived down in the garage now for at least the last six years- so I don't think it's going anywhere near down where it should go ever again. I'm not into other toys really either- Mother Nature gave me fingers for a reason.

And invented carrots for another...


3. Ever stolen something from someone? What was it? or... What would you like to steal? =P

Yes; a Sprite yoyo from a boy when I was in second grade.


4. Do you have a favorite porn star? Gimmie a link! ;)

Anyone know the name of the big-titted red-hed in the shower scene of Bad Wives 2?

Okay...Maybe I'm R Rated after all.


5. Death comes in 3 - James Brown, Gerald Ford... who's next?

It was Saddam. Or Paris Hilton.



Bonus (as in optional): New Year, New Beginnings - What is your New Year's Resolution? Did you bring the new year in with a bang? =P

This year I've decided to try and have at least 365 orgasms. That's one orgasm a day for the entire year for those of you playing along at home. So far I'm 7/365. My Hubby has been warned...

And is also playing along.

Happy New Year everyone!

The (T)ruth Hurts...

Due to a lack of blogging inspiritation I've decided (for better or worse) to post my Mother's reply to the below email.

Oh well; tomorrow is TMI Tuesday so I may have something better then. But until then- all names have been changed to protect the Innocent...

"Even if you or Hubby had provided any of the items you insist be “shared”, I would still not agree with your premise…either something belongs to a person, or it does not. And, if its given, it is up to the receiver/owner who can “share”. There is a perfectly acceptable computer available for an almost 5 year old to use…if you cleaned up a lot of the rubbish off it, it wouldn’t even be so slow. And, the reward of patience, is patience, something little Son needs a little extra of. And, so what if it takes up time to set it up…its not as if you have a lot to do…you find time to do puzzles, something I have never been able to find time for. You criticize Grandpa D for lack of “sharing”….tell me, what do you or Hubby “share”? as far as I can see, you don’t provide eldest Son with breakfast/lunch/lunch money….have you ever even bought him a pair of socks? And we wont talk about the (piano)concerts neither of you can bother to see.

You say he hasn’t said he wont “share” with little Son….have you ever asked him if he wants to? He hates it when you yell at him, he doesn’t handle conflict well…he gets a bellyache…, and, when you “share” he was very upset about the porn that was on his computer!

Little Son “doesn’t get everything “ you say? That’s not the way it looks….I never hear you say the “no” word to him….he certainly knows how to say it to anyone who wont give him what he wants, or he is asked to do anything/eat something that isn’t rubbish!. As for your “supervision” of little Son… asleep in bed, or on the couch doesn’t cut it! There’s a bit more to it than just being in the same house somewhere.

As for it being “up to me” where his computer is…I wouldn’t accept that it is my choice….surely its up to eldest Son?? And, if he wants it at home, surely its up to him to say if little Son can use it, not you! Little Son has the run of his room, his TV…puts food everywhere, picks up nothing, throws things around….just what does belong to eldest Son, can you tell me????

mum

Now, dear Reader; is it any wonder that I know she thinks that I'm a failure?

And just for the record; I've cooked my kids a thousand hot breakfasts- yet can quite clearly remember making all my own school lunches when I was just five.

An Abridged Letter To Mother...

First- a short history lesson...

Some of my regular readers( all three of you) will know that I have two children; aged fourteen and four. The eldest is somewhat of a genius and good as gold; responsibilty is his middle name.

He saved up his pocket money for two years to buy this laptop I'm using right now; and my Mother gets angry and irritable every time I allow my little Son to use it. We have an old computer that takes up half the dining room table that she thinks I should set up instead everytime he wants to use a computer. Eldest Son has no qualms with his brother using the computer, either- for those of you who are wondering.

And little Son's careful when he uses it; he only uses Paint or goes to the Wiggles website. He's not a genius but he's far from stupid; and it's no wonder that he doesn't like going over to her house when she's become such a Nazi towards him lately. Here's the email I just sent to her after she cut short our call...

"What I was going to say before you hung up on me was that if Eldest Son's laptop is so precious that it can not be used by everybody under this roof(mine- where it's My rules that are the ones that matter)then it can be packed up and can stay at your house under your protection.

You mentioned Grandpa D and how he won't even let Eldest Son use his Precious laptop; that is typical of D; Hubby has always said that was one of the things that made his father a wanker- his incapacity to share his things. From guitars to laptops to steak. You know those people who gave their kids the fish fingers while they had Barramurrundi; yeah that was him. What a fine example for me to follow. No.

I'm sick of this argument. Littlest Son is allowed to use anything in this house-within reason and under supervision. He's never spilt anythnig on it and hasn't even caused it to crash- which if you remember correctly Eldest Son did plenty of times. Anyway it's up to you where the computer lives- but the computer is allowed to be used by everybody while it's here.

So get over it."

Okay- so I left the last bit out.

But what do you think? Was I being too harsh?

Goof's Story Part Two...

Goof and I drifted apart during high school- though we were still always friendly towards each other. We just weren't in the same group, that's all. She sat with the Cool Kids at lunch time- like Joolz and Reevesy. They didn't like Me very much; I don't wear the right sort of clothes and none of the boys liked me; just for a start...

But Goof was still my friend; she'd wave at me as I rode my crappy bike past her house every afternoon on the way to feed my horse- I think she even came with me for a ride on her one time.

After she did the HSC Goof moved away to go to University- but she never got her degree; she took up Heroin instead. I think she had always been depressed since her mother's death and saw it as an escape. She told me, many years later, that she was eighteen the first time that she ever shot up. And then she did it the next day. And the next. And that's the way it went every day; even on the day of her Lover's funeral three days after she found him slumped and alone, in the toilet dead, chin on his chest. Apparently he'd cut off his own air supply and had been too stoned to realise...

From what I can deduce, this is the Precise moment when Goof should have gotten the thought in her head to stop using the shit herself- this should have been the wake-up call she needed; losing her lover of four years to the same drug she's infatuated with. She told me once that losing him was the hardest thing she'd ever been through- but that still wasn't enough to make her seek help for her own drug addiction.

I'm the same. I probably won't get help until I'm forced to, either.

By the time Goof and I were organising the Year Ten of Nineteen-eighty-nine ten-year Reunion she had a well-kept secret habit of eight hundred dollars a week. She doesn't have a job but she has two inheritances to spend; her dead Lover's Life Insurance and a favourite Great-Aunt's legacy. It's just such a shame that she wasted it all on Heroin trying to escape her painful past.

I haven't seen Goof since a few months after the School Reunion was held. She slept on my creaky lounge for three awful nights and I watched on while she sweated and trembled and vomited as she tried to go Cold Turkey. On the last morning she woke up and begged me for some money for a taxi- which I Knew deep down was going to be spent on a hit of Hammer- and left; telling me she would be back the next day. I know I shouldn't have given her the money knowing that it would probably go on drugs- besides; I needed the money myself to pay for the back hoe to come and dig the hole in the ground that I was going to bury my horse in next week when she was getting put down- finally, because of her gammy legs...

As Goof left she gave me a swift kiss on the cheek and promised that she'd see me tomorrow. That was five and half years ago. I rang her for the first few weeks- up to thirty times a day- leaving message after message on her voice-mail- trying to find her- until she changed her phone number. I know. Stalker-Girl sux doesn't she?

But it wasn't about the money Goof. Never.

I just wanted to know that you were okay...

If I could tell her one thing- Today- it would be that I miss having her as my funny friend. I never judged her for her drug problem; just like she never judged my own drinking problems. And if you're reading this, Goof, then by now you'll know I'm a Pot Head as well. I want you to meet my littlest Son. And my eldest Son misses you, too. He loved flying kites with you in the Park and going for walks down past the Hanging Tree.

The last I heard was that Kahn had finally died- aged twenty one; that You had finally gotten your drivers licence- aged thirty one; and that you were in rehab getting shock therapy. Aunty Joan told me when I saw her at the shops. I just hope that you're alright now, Goof. You are too beautiful to be wasted. You're also one of the few people I know who could never hurt anybody- not even if they tried.

Well- except for Themselves I mean...

News For The Blogging Public...

1. Ever had your toes sucked on?

Ever seen my feet? I'm a size ten who prepares not to wear shoes and I've never had a pedicure. I manage my toe-hairs reasonably well but my toenails definitely need urgent attention.

Fergie I'm not...

2. Ever had a hickey... sexy or trashy? Why?

Yes; hasn't everyone had a hickey? Sexy on yourself or someone you've just sucked on the neck- trashy on teenagers and old people. I remember once my Hubby gave me one when we first started going out - he smiled at me after giving it- he'd sucked so hard he must have burst some capillaries or something. His front teeth had blood on them anyway and it wasn't gingivitis...

3. Ever stolen from a store? If so, what?

Just once and I got caught. It was a pair of earrings and I didn't even have pierced ears then.

4. Ever got a speeding ticket? If so, how many?

No- I've never lost a point off my licence. But perhaps I Should have...

I don't speed much these days but back when I first got my licence I remember driving my mate Stan in his car (a hotted up V8 Torana) to Sydney doing 180km/h the whole way. It took me just over an hour to get there when I should have only been half way. Stan had fallen sleep in the back seat cos he had to work the next day and we were just past the Sydney Harbour Bridge- when he woke up and looked at the time and asked if we'd gone past the half-way point he nearly killed me when I told him how fast I'd been driving. I can still remember whizzing past all the semi-trailers with Bryan Adams blasting on the stereo.

Hey it Was the 80's...and I thought I was invincible back then!

5. Ever faked an orgasm?

Probably hundreds. When I was with my Bastard Ex I had to!

I wouldn't bother faking it anymore; that's just One you can't ever get back!

Bonus (as in optional): What's the trick to being multiorgasmic?

Not stopping after one? I'm not sure- being as I'm not the multiorgasmic type. But I can proudly say that persistence Does pay off in the end- and can now announce to the Blogging Public that I've at last cracked the two orgasms-in-one-day scenario. They weren't simultaneous (or even witnessed for verification) but I'm working on that side of things- almost as we speak...

Mind over matter as they say!

Lifting Goof...

She called Me Goof when we were little, so that's what I'll call her now.

I wonder if she'd remember that?

I suppose we were about ten years old when she first came to my school. It was the same year that Cecily was our teacher, anyway- I remember that for sure. Goof's got a Rat's Tail that goes half-way down her back but otherwise her hair is only shoulder length- and she's got shiny excited eyes and a big smile.

It doesn't take long for the word to spread that She's moved here to our Town because she's come to live with her aunty and uncle- her Mother has just died from cancer and her father's no where to be found- and you can tell she really misses her Mum. On the first day of school I tell her that my sister's cat Kimba has recently had kittens in our shed and she begs Me to let her come over to my house that afternoon to see them.

We've been friends ever since...

There were two left; my older Sister had given her friend the black runt last week, which left the grey one, and the white and black one with the Puzzle piece on his back- which eventually earned him his name. She likes the grey one better, anyway, and takes him home and calls him Kahn- after Imran the cricketer- before her Aunty Joan can tell her to take him back to where she got him.

That year, at her eleventh birthday slumber party, we performed a seance to summon her dead mother, because that was her wish for her birthday; to see her mother one more time. My Kindred Spirit starts freaking out at all the talk of spirits and bodies rising from the grave- and because Kahn the kitten is acting really skittishly and apparently cats are super sensitive to the supernatural. She starts to cry a little; and we promise to stop when she threatens to tell Aunty Joan what we are all doing.

As soon as she falls asleep we start the seance again; sitting cross legged around the Scrabble pieces. A girl named Felicity whispers promises to everyone that it's not her who is pushing the glass; but who else could it have been? The glass was always moving in the same direction...

And after that we 'lifted' Goof.

I am supervising the 'lift' because my Grandmother's house on the Hill is haunted by the ghost of an old Sea Captain; so I have the next most experience with spirits after Goof herself. She tells us what we have to do; how we have to place only our index fingers beneath her so that we are barely supporting her at all.

In hushed voices we whisper the words 'Stiff as a Board Stiff as a Board" over and over again; and Goof is steadily rising into the air- until a small scream from my Kindred Spirit shatters the spell. Goof drops a small distance to the floor as Aunty Joan rushes out from her bedroom with the rollers still in her hair; and ends the seance once and for all.

But as we were all drifting off to sleep in our sleeping bags we were all certain that Goof's mum was still there in the room with us. Goof said that she even smelt her favourite perfume in the air at one stage...

And I believed her.

(Oh How I Wish That I Was) Jessie's Girl...

The first time that I met Jessie was on board the HMAS Parramatta where he cooked me the worst bacon and eggs I've ever eaten in my life...

I forgave him for it; eventually- about ten years later if my memory serves Me correctly.

The second time I met him was at a party when I was still sixteen; I think it was his twenty-first birthday. Stan and Yobbo took Me and Dano; I suppose anyone who didn't know any better might have imagined that I was there with Stan- but I wasn't. The feelings he felt for Me were never mutual I'm afraid. I liked Jessie straight away; though that's not his real name of course. I've never called him by his real name either, though- so I suppose what name You know him by doesn't matter in the slightest. Stan told me that the reason behind Jessie's nickname was that it had been the name of an athlete from the Berlin Olympics; so if you want to go digging and delving into History then you can be my guest- try and work out his identity for yourselves.

But you'll never hear it from me; because to this day he is the only other man I think I could have loved and been happy with- aside from my Hubby of course...

If I have one Sexual Regret in my life then it's that Jessie and I didn't get to have sex on the one and only night when we both had the freedom to do so. If we had chosen to. It was a few months after I had turned seventeen when I ran into Jessie and his cousin Johnny at a night club. They both bought me drinks all night; but I stupidly chose to go home with Johnny instead of Jessie- thinking that Jess was only interested in me as a mate because of Stan- and also because he was five years older than me- and only went out with women; not little girls like Me.

And so I ended up back at the house- but with the wrong family member...

Johnny was alright; except that he was a terrible snorer. I had sex with him twice more before we got bored with each other. But because I never slept with Jessie I suppose I always have secretly wished that I did. The few times he Did kiss me he had the softest lips and the wildest tongue imaginable; though I worried he would never be able to kiss me slowly- as he would've if he had really been 'into' me.

He could make me feel dizzy just by looking at me with his intense black eyes; eyes that seemed to find me desirable and hot. By the time I realised that I wanted to fuck him-badly- it was too late; and I had already reunited with my Hubby. But I have seen Jessie since. There was a time when we even drank together regularly- but only ever as friends...

The last time I saw him he looked at me, his lust only thinly disguised, and told me that I was still as 'fine' as I ever was. It made my Year that he thought I was still rootable. We reminisced about That Time down at the beach when we were younger - and the Other Time at the bowling alley- which I think he had totally forgotten about until I reminded him- and then he left; before I could think about ruining the relationship I already have.

It's the closest I've ever come to cheating on my Hubby; and not because anything happened- but because I really would have liked it to. That's why I knew that I had to move away- needed to- even if it was only a few suburbs away; because it would get the Thought of Him out of my mind once and for all. And when I didn't see him every day I got over it. Really.

Jessie didn't want the kind of relationship that I had with my Hubby and Son and I would never give that up- having a family with them. It wouldn't feel right. I know that I've long missed the proverbial boat when it comes to being with Jessie- but it still made me smile when I was talking to one of our long-ago mutual friends, not all that long ago- and he told me that back then Jess had told him that he was really keen on a gorgeous girl with long black hair.

Me.

rn-buffoon...

I suppose that's why I've found Myself thinking of Jessie again recently, because he used to look at me in a way my Hubby never has- like everything I had to say was funny or sexy or interesting or whatever. Jesse listened to me when I raved on with my craziness and laughed when I spoke it out loud.

I know he thought I was rootable, too...

I just wish I had done something different about it when I first had the chance- when I was seventeen and not with my Hubby- things would have turned out very differently if I had- that's for sure.

It's long gone now- any chance of being with Jessie. I don't regret staying faithful to my Hubby, either, even though he never even knew until Just Now that I had ever considered being anything else but faithful to him.

Oh well. I was. And that's the most important thing isn't it?

Just thought I'd point that part out, though.

Twice...