Not again...

More under-30 women having inappropriate relations with HS students.

Enough already!

I covered this a bit in my March 1 entry, but the problem seems to be creeping northward. And in a place with a population the size of NY's, you know we're going to do it in spades. Apparently, the magic ratio is having the woman 12 years older than the boy. Harrumph.

Age is such an odd thing though. A 27 year old woman with a 15 year old boy is seriously skeevy. But one doesn't really mind a 37 year old woman with a 25 year old man, or a 47 y-o with a 35 y-o. A lot has to do with the fact that the men are adults in the latter two cases. A 15 y-o doesn't have the (mental/emotional/sexual) wherewithal to give consent at that age. Not to mention the physical immaturity... And childhood should be sacrosanct. Let him worry about soccer, not sex.

My advice to these women: go buy a vibrator and leave the children to their childhood.

Just in case.

Well, it looks like I've had a setback in my healing. I neglected to do my jaw stretches for a couple of days (I over did it on Sunday and gave myself a migraine) so now I can barely open my jaw the width of two fingers. Which reminds me of a joke (paraphrased from Erotique Noire):

This man was fooling around with a girl. She tells him, "I can't. I can't do that, I'm on my period."

So he tries again from the back (so to speak) and she says , "No, don't touch me there; I've got hemorrhoids."

The man is completely frustrated now, he gets out, goes to the trunk of his car and gets a crowbar. She says, "What's the crowbar for?" He says, "Just in case you've got lockjaw too!"

Maybe by starting the day with a joke, I'll be in a better mood and less apt to go on one of my rants like I did yesterday. The world can't be that bad, can it? (I have a sneaking suspicion that it's worse, but I'll ignore that for the moment.)

Ah, yes, now I remember why I don't date.

"No, no, no, you don't understand! I'm not a lesbian! I hate men, but I'm not a lesbian!" Elaine Benes - Seinfeld

Men are idiots.

I forget that every now and again, so I stick my toes in the dating pool to test the water... the stagnant, fetid, scum-infested water ... and I realize why I haven't been bothering in the first place. Silly me to think things might have changed for the better.

That is not to say all men are useless. I was deluded by having made the acquaintance of several nice, respectable, intelligent, humorous guys (all of whom are married or otherwise unavailable, of course) and I thought, "well there have got to be more like them out there." HA! Maybe there are, but apparently they're not where I was looking. And/or they're not looking for me.

Please to explain: when did dating disappear? I either get the guys on a robotic wife-quest, or the ones who want you to come over right now and service them; the hell with meeting for even a drink first. I've barely even met you; I don't want to be your wife and I don't want to be your whore! Is that clear enough for you? Is it so much to ask that we meet for a drink, chat, and get to know each other before making any hasty decisions? What makes you so sure we'll even get along? If I can't have a conversation with you, I'm not bloody likely to want to fuck you. And I certainly don't want to fuck you RIGHT THIS MINUTE. That does not make me a prude, or frigid (ohmigawd - you're kidding, right?!?) ... I think that makes me rather normal ... rather sane, in fact. And if that's not sane, I'll happily be crazy.

I always thought my dating standards were rather lax:

• I don't usually get involved with committed relationships - they're "open" with the stipulation that if you find someone who becomes important to you, be man enough to let me know. (You'd think this would be an easy enough rule ... sigh.)
  

• I don't need to be with a guy all of the time, but when he's with me I want his attention. What he does when I'm not there is his business.

• I will treat a guy as well as he treats me, usually better, but if I get an inkling of being taken for granted, it turns off like a tap.

but even this much seems to be too much to ask nowadays. Well, you know what? Screw it - I don't have the patience.

Mi dispiace!

I must apologize, I've gotten quite lazy about maintaining this blog. It's not so much that I don't want to keep it up, it's just that I haven't been thinking about sex lately. Well, that's not entirely true ... I've just been distracted.

Pain, first of all, is really a buzzkill. My jaw's still acting up (although the last stitch seems to have fallen out today). Secondly, I didn't manage much debauchery in New Orleans. That was a disappointment. I was hoping for some fodder about which to write. Lastly, there are things I don't want to think about which keep popping into my mind. I have to purge myself of them before I can speak freely again.

One bit of amusement did occur. I found an old porn story I'd written, like, 6 years ago. It is bloody awful, and I'm not going to make you suffer through it. But it was fun to get a snapshot into my thinking back then. I highly recommend writing, if only for the joy of rediscovering yourself years later.

Bedroom Golf

Sorry not to have been posting much lately - my mind is otherwise occupied. Here is a mild bit of humor with which I was spammed today.

Rules For Bedroom Golf
********************
1. Each player shall furnish his own equipment for play, normally one club and two balls.

2. Play on a course must be approved by the owner of the hole.

3. Unlike outdoor golf, the object is to get the club in the hole and keep the balls out of the hole.

4. For most effective play, the club should have a firm shaft. Course owners are permitted to check the shaft for firmness before play begins.

5. Course owners reserve the right to restrict the length of the club to avoid damage to the hole.

6. The object of the game is to take as many strokes as necessary until the course owner is satisfied that play is complete. Failure to do so may result in being denied permission to play on the course again.

7. It is considered bad form to begin playing the hole immediately upon arrival at the course. The experienced player will normally take time to admire the entire course with special attention to the well formed bunkers.

8. Players are cautioned not to mention other courses they have played or are currently playing to the owner of the course being played. Upset course owners have been known to damage a player's equipment for this reason.

9. Players are encouraged to have proper rain gear (rubbers, et al.) along at all times.

10. Players should assure themselves that their match has been properly scheduled, particularly when a new course is being played for the first time. Previous players have been known to become irate if they discover someone else is playing what they consider to be a private course.

11. Players should not assume a course is in shape for play at all times. Some players may be embarrassed if they find the course is temporarily under repair. Players are advised to be extremely tactful in this situation. More advanced players will find alternate means of play when this is the case.

12. Players are STRONGLY advised to obtain the course owner's permission before attempting to play the back nine.

13. Slow play is encouraged, however, players should be prepared to proceed at quicker pace, at least temporarily, at the course owner's request.

14. It is considered outstanding performance, time permitting, to play
the same hole several times in one match.

15. The course owner will be the sole judge of who is the best player.
*HINT- Players are advised to think twice before considering membership at a given course. Additional assessments may be levied by the owner and the rules are subject to change. For this reason, many players prefer to continue to play several different courses.

It only hurts when I laugh.

Pain is not conducive to thinking about sex. And stitches in one's face are not conducive to one's good humor. But since it's Humor Day, I'll give it the old college try.

Being stuck at home recuperating, I've dragged out the old knitting needles and 2.5 pounds of cashmere to try to be creative. It's not working. I wanted to create an original aran-type sweater, with bits of genitalia in the cabling, but I'm a bit lazy and will probably just make an entrelac turtleneck instead. So here is a blog showcasing other knitted bits. I like the penis (with cabled veins!) but what would you do with it? I refuse to make things which serve no purpose.

In the meantime, I've corralled my creativity to the kitchen. Monday I made Seafood Gumbo, Tuesday I smoked some chicken to make Gumbo Ya-Ya (Smoked Chicken and Andouille), and I've just baked a shitload of Key Lime Pies. (Why yes, it is annoying to juice two 16 ounce bags of tiny key limes, why do you ask?) Mind you, I can't really eat any of this because I've still got stitches in my jaw, but it's something to do. It's more interesting than cleaning. I'll give some of it away, put the rest in the freezer.

Ah well, off to whip cream for the pies.