Mmm . . . cappuccino & vanilla.

Just thought I'd give a little plug to Kama Sutra products. (Whose site only appears to work with IE - feh.)

I have the Cappuccino Oil of Love and the Vanilla Massage Creme sitting, unopened, in my basement. (I got them on sale a while ago, but haven't had occasion to use them. Apparently they're discontinued flavors.) In my last relationship, my friends kept buying me gift sets from there, so I also have the Weekender, the Oil of Love Collection, and Honey Dust.

I like the stuff; the flavors are non-cloying, the textures sensual.

Perhaps one of these days I'll have occasion to use them again. (I don't think they go bad, do they?)

I ask again: who worked her up?

It seems like every year or two I go out with friends and get all hedonistic ... there's usually dancing involved, and drinking (natch) ... and for no apparent reason I just become a kissing fool. Almost any guy I dance with, I end up kissing. And not just a peck on the cheek in appreciation for the dance.

Normally, I'm far more restrained. (ie. more celibate than a monk)

Don't get me wrong, I really like kissing. Really. A lot. But I usually don't go about all willy-nilly like that.

And usually I have sense enough to only kiss strangers, whom I don't know and have no intention of seeing ever again, not people I know and see regularly ... groan.

So, last night I played the fool and fooled around with all of these guys who are too young for me and/or otherwise problematic, but it was still fun. And it's not serious. I don't anticipate any repercussions other than my girlfriends teasing me for a few days.

In fact, it makes me regret the week before, when I was out with a friend to whom I'm attracted. I perceived kissing tension, but I got on my ethical high horse & ignored it. I should have just kissed him; he strikes me as being a good kisser and none of our friends were around to see it. What the hell?

There should be more kissing in life.

so much for humor day . . .

It's hard to have a sense of humor when this is the first article I see in the Times today:

Muzzling Sex Education on Anything but Abstinence

Alright, who got her worked up?

I'm having lascivious thoughts of late.

Sometimes/most of the time I hate boys, but most of the time/sometimes I find them terribly distracting.

It's funny, the one who is distracting me now, he fits almost perfectly into an awful piece of erotica I wrote years ago. I happened to come across it and read it, thinking of him as the main character . . . oh my! It's like a whole new story. And it works, because I wrote that story for/about a guy whom I'd never seen in person, so there's really just the most generic description.

And like the guy for/about whom I originally wrote the story, I have no intention of really pursuing this man in real life . . . because I don't do "mistress."

But, the point I'm trying to get to (if I can refrain from picturing said guy as that character for just 5 minutes) is that one should write, erotica or otherwise. I don't care if it is horrible. It's a neat little time capsule of who you are at a given point in time. I cringe with every reading of that story, but it reminds me of who I once was, and how I've grown since then.

Back to my regularly scheduled fantasious dalliances.