Strippers have more fun too

What is it about my week that I am attracting the stories of other people. Tonight was the birthday dinner for one of my friends. I was talking to this girl who happens to strip, or did. I didn't want to act too curious about her job. That might be creepy. She told me the story of inviting this guy back to her place Friday night. He thought he would have to stay up late because he was going to get some, so he bought some cocaine. Apparently, he brought a lot of cocaine.
The girl did not find his wanting to do lines when they got back to her place to be a particularity attractive trait. She liked even less that he wanted to do A LOT of lines to be even less attractive. Although she had been planning on sleeping with him like the slut she is, she decided not to when she saw the quantity of altering substances he inhaled. This may not have been a good idea, but then I have the advantage of hind site. She had invited him over and had mentioned sex in the invite. He had every reason to think he was getting some.
He took the news that he wasn't getting any pretty high. He told her, "Ok then, I will need a minute in the bathroom to release some tension." Almost classy, eh?
An hour later, she starts pounding on the bathroom door, she REALLY has to pee. A lot.
"Give me a minute"
"I really have to pee, hurry up"
An hour after that, I am sure she is doing the little kid squat with legs crossed and hands pushed on to crotch move. The move requires begging, as pounding can't be done because the crotch push is important for urine retention.
"Pleeeeeese!?!?"
"ONE MINUTE"
She gives up and goes to the neighbours for their bathroom.
The guy stayed in the bathroom masturbating for 7 and a half hours. Apparently, all the Sunshine girls that had been stored in the newspaper stack had been ripped out of the paper and were left in a stack. She is afraid to use her towels and has been asked by the neighbour with the bathroom to not wash the towels in the building machines. She feels the need to get a couple of gallons of bleach before she will use her own bathroom again. I like the story. I felt kind of proud of the guy. If you are going to go at it, go at it memorably.

Bouncers have more fun

On Thursday, I went with my friend Luc to go looking for drag queens. Luc is a big and brawny bouncer. He is also tied for first place in a radio contest called Snap Happy http://radiosonic.fm/contests/snap_happy_day1.php. It is a digital scavenger hunt. Everyday, there is a different chore that gets a different photo assignment, from high fiving a senior (bonus points for being over 100) to being in a freezer at the grocer's. On day nineteen the assignment was to get your picture taken with a drag queen. He seemed to think that I would know something about that, I don't know why.
So while we are walking in between gay bars on our hunt, this guy walks up to Luc and says, "HEY, I know you!" all excited.
"Are you sure? You don't look familiar," questions Luc.
"Yeah, you are a bouncer right?" the guy seems really excited and happy.
"Uh, yeah,"
"Cool," the dude is way too excited. It is like a drag queen getting to meet Cher, you almost expect him to start peeing on Luc's leg. "You kicked my ass on New Years Eve"
Luc is a funny chap, he has more personality than the state of Ohio. He starts to giggle, a good look on a big man. "Really? Glad to help you out with that, I am glad you are so happy about it."
Dude is still beaming, I was hoping he would ask for Luc's autograph. But alas, they made parting comments and kept walking.
Am I too girlie? It is too much for me to imagine having such a jovial conversation between bouncer and bouncee. I loved it.

Food and Love

Working in a restaurant as I do means I work with love. Whether it is waiting for hands to be unclasped before being able to put a plate down or seeing moans escape after trying a bite of one of those 1500 calorie dishes, we work with love. As such, the air in a good restaurant always has a tingle to it; it speaks of possibilities and romance and a bit of lust. That might be why crushes are so prevalent.
I know at the restaurant I work at that one of the kitchen guys feels it for me (that one has a lot of food related perks), that I have one on a waiter, two of them are dating, there are a couple of ex's and one of the waitresses runs and hides when the manager comes by. This last one give me so much pleasure.
The waitress in the crush, Tania, stared at Tom for every minute of the Christmas party. She really runs away when he approaches. It is hilariously adorable. I love her for it. I have a big mouth though, so her choice in talking to me about it (she claims no one else knows) was probably unwise. I told Tom...
"I know someone who fancies you!!" in a teasing tone, figuring that I could do some taunting. I wouldn't quite tell, just make him keep a look out.
"I know someone too, Tania."
"Uh, yeah, thanks for ruining my fun."

So, in conclusion, I am a terrible friend.
Especially when we had dinner last night, she asked me if I thought he knew. I said that I was pretty sure he did. She was shocked that I would think that.

PS. Yesterday was the prettiest day I have ever had in my life. Everything that could work was working. I expected more compliments than I got. I had a friend who told me that if I was as hot as I said I was, then he needed to come on my face. I guess I wasn't that hot because nobody came on my face, or even in their pants. Damn.

Girl Masturbation Pt 2

As demanded, more about my masturbatory habits. Well, actually, not really more than a few sentences before I talk about the repercussions, but I wanted a second part to something.
I had a relapse one day this April. I made myself come with my own hands. But apart from that singular self encounter (if that is a word or phrase) I have not ridden my slimy highway for over two years.
I only intended to let the masturbation monkey off my back for a short while. I was picturing a couple of months, really just to prove to my body that I was in charge, not it. But I started to change. Really since my sensitivity has returned, it has done so with a vengeance. I am the Queen of the Orgasms. I have had more orgasms in one night than years I have lived. I have come in every position, from many body parts. I am very proud to say that I have had orgasms from my ears, my toes, getting a back rub, getting my nipples sucked, pretty much touching my shoulder will make me come.
Since I gave up my clit, every nerve ending on my body seems to have become alive. Giving my masturbation has completely been worth it.
What is more, when I am with you (as infrequently as that passes), holding hands even, or kissing; I am very conscious of my skin. I can feel my jeans hem touching my calf. I can feel every knot in the sewing of my teeshirt. Every inch of my skin feels my arousal, and quickly too.
If we begin to kiss, there is a good chance that I will feel a pain in my cunny so much. My 'gine feels like it is ready to jump out of my panties to get something, anything to touch it. I am sure that it never did that before. It is the most impassive vessel that could be.
These are the things that make giving up masturbation worth it.

Girl Masturbation

I was late in the self love arena. I didn't make myself come until I was almost 19, if happened after the purchase of a shiny silver vibrator from the local sex shop.
I liked it.
I liked it a lot.
I was uber-sensitive. It could take me less than a second to come the first time each session. That is not an exaggeration. I would let each orgasm roll off of each other forever. Maybe a half an hour here, a half an hour there. It was great. Feeling air get caught in my throat making it difficult to swallow, then the warmth in my belly as my energy built up, then the clenching and eventual release with the shakes then relax. Only to be built up all over again in another minute. It was a good time.
I did it in the morning, staring at myself in the mirror. I did it after my shower, before I left to work. Budgeting my time so that I would not be too late for work. I got written up a few times for my masturbating related tardiness. I think maybe I was an addict for quite a few months. I had a lot of years to fit into those months, I was just catching up.
I did some things to make my new play zone more fun. I had a hood piercing already, but I went and got a clit piercing to compliment it.
That made it even more sensitive. MORE FUN!!
I tapered off, but never went below twice a day. All this action my clit was getting was gradually desensitizing me. It went from 1 second to two, the eight, to minutes and on up.
Then, one day about a year and a half ago, I was plugging away at it with my trusty silver. Silver and I were about 20 minutes into it when I smelled something... smoke. I figured it was a roommate burning something, so didn't worry about it. The the knob fell off my vibe. The plastic knob had melted. I had burnt out my vibrator. I killed my bestfriend. It was a sad day, I decided that if I can kill a machine, then I had a problem. I vowed to never masturbate again.

Saturday Night

So, Saturday night with Jeff has come and gone. My crush is still alive and going strong. We went out as planned to the local Irish pub and proceeded to get our dance on. There was a bunch of our friends their, but it seemed to me that I was singled out for a lot more attention than equal share merited. I was delighted. We talked, touched and flirted. I was a very happy camper. Things were lining up perfectly. Which means that something would bring my disaster back.
We went outside to cool down and this drunk guy was trying to talk to us about what we did last night. He was under the impression that all of us had hung out together. We were quite sure that we had never met.
Guy was all, "You know me, man, we were hanging out last night."
We said, "We don't know you."
Guy gets a bit louder, "What are you ashamed of me? Am I not cool enough for you to admit that we go way back? You got a problem with me."
This is where we split up. The girls, including me, head back inside to get bouncer to get man away from us. The boys stay outside to finish a cigarette. Apparently what happened next was this:
Guy gets closer and angrier about not getting respect. Jeff has a mouth on him and said something like "I know I am not your friend because I am too cool to hang out with guys who wear pink shirts."
Which means drunk guy must attack him. He lost, by a lot, but the bouncer knew he was trouble so he made Jeff leave immediately in a cab (I still have his jacket that he was not allowed to fetch) and called the cops on drunk guy.
The moral of the story is that it seems I will never get the opportunity to tell Jeff about my massive crush on him.

Daddy's Prostitute

My parents have been split for near twenty years, they are both middle class, educated people, less you think I am some redneck hick. My mom is your stereotypical office lady; very conservative, Ralph Klein voting gal, has been financial prepared for retirement since she was 24. My dad likes his drink, his times, his toys and his stuff. They were not really a good match. Recently, my mom has been telling stories about my dad from when they were together. I don't know what brought this on. She went my whole like without bashing him, and now she likes to share stuff. They are cute little stories, like this one.
My dad lost his wallet and reported it to the cops so that if it was recovered or credit cards or something got used. It can happen to anyone.
But it didn't happen to my dad. A few days after he reported it, someone called the house. My mom answered, and low and behold it was a pimp, calling for my dad. The pimp was rather pissed off at my dad. Apparently, my dad had skipped out on his bill with one of the pimps ho's. The pimp offered to come beat the shit out of my dad, so my mom told him "You can do whatever you want with him, but I have two small children here, so don't let it happen here"
My mom called the cops and confirmed the pimp's pimphood. The cops heard the story and called my dad a moron.
My parents relationship didn't last too much longer after that.

Green Eyed Monster

I have special feelings towards jealousy. The most admirable thing I see in a boy is the lack of jealous. I had gone out on a couple of dates with this guy I liked but didn't particularily see a fit with, his name was James. James was nice and jolly, actually one of the few people that jolly actually applied too. One day, I was having a few people over to my house for a dinner that he called in the middle of. I promised him that I would call him back after things wound down. When I did call him, I told him that a male friend of mine would be sleeping in my bed that night and that I would like to sleep with him, due to lack of blankets and the fact that I lived in an industrial loft with cement everything and crappy heating. It was cold, so I was faced with sleeping with a friend in a cozy bed with an electric blanket and down duvets or the couch with a throw. He knew the status of my loft, but not the status of my friendship. James asked a few questions about my friend; questions like if I had any romantic desire towards him, and if we had a past. Since all his questions were answered negative, James told me that he was okay with us sharing a bed, but that he trusted I would leave if I started to feel any desires or if I felt that my friend was indicated he was. The way that he handled the situation just made my heart go *squish*. James and I started a serious relationship a few days later.

I hate jealousy. But I am a little ashamed to say that I can be quite jealous at times. If someone flirts with me at a party and then flirts with someone else, gets shot down and then comes back to me. I will have internal glares at them forever almost. I am thinking of you, Phil, you are a jackass.

Start things out terribly wrong

Hi. I am going to give a try to this blogging thing. I have been writing for a while, but have figured that my life is too lame to be able to entertain people with it on a semi regular basis. So prepare to be bored half the time and entertained 1% of the time. I am not so sure about what will go on the other 49%, maybe mild disinterest or some waffling. Let's get this disaster rolling...

I have had a crush on a bloke for quite a couple of months. Jeff (the bloke in question) and I work together at the local Italian restaurant. It is great fun, flirting back and forth all night while we pour water and coffee makes the nights go by rather quickly. We are both rather sarcastic and everything turns into a joke. I have recently crossed a line.
I reached over and picked a piece of fluff off his shirt and said, "Wow, your mom isn't very good at doing your laundry, is she?"
"Yeah, I know, she died last week."
"She must have died after that night we spent together." I said when I saw the big smile on his face, I figured he had made a terribly inappropriate joke. I thought it was funny.
"She really did die last week"
"Stop fucking around!" I couldn't have possible have a mouth big enough for that much foot. It couldn't have been true.
"She did, liver failure!"
"Fuuuuuuuuuck!!!!!!!!!

So that was Wednsday, this is Saturday. I think I ought to ask him out when we go out for drinks after work today. That is enough time for him to forget how much of a moron I am, isn't it?