American in the Nexus of Race and Guns Part 5

There are photos of Jeff Goldblum moving through social media. The are mainly talking about how hot he looks for a 63 year-old man.

This fact is not in dispute. On the sexy hotness scale from Zero to 10 he is burning 13.75 and climbing.

Which puts me back in the cross hairs of being an American and gun culture. On a lazy summer afternoon I watched a movie called Mad Dog Time.




IMDB describes it as:

With his boss in the madhouse, a mobster is temporary boss of the criminal empire just as vicious rivals threaten the control of the empire.

Naw that ain't it. There is a whole lot of shoot 'em up bang bang in this movie. It is stylized. Some times shocking. Occasionally funny.

And there is Goldblum being that fine looking, up to no good and cut me a slice self. In this one scene alone you got Billy Idol, Kyle MacLachlan, Gregory Hines and Jeff Goldblum.

It is an acquired taste movie. It is stylized and mounted well but there is a whole lot of killing going on.

If you got the taste for it, it is a hoot.

Americans did not seem to have a taste for this movie.
Americans sometimes have a problem with sex, comedy and guns all in one place.  

It only opened on 18 screens and seems to have disappeared from distribution shortly after release.

It might have been one of those tax dodge movies that was popular at the time.


I don't know.

I do know that I'll watch almost anything with Goldblum.
I kind feel icky that I remember and liked this movie. 

Kinda like the undercurrent of seduction that goes on in the film and gun culture.

When The Life You Knew Passes You By

One of the things about photography that I like is that it helps me see things. It helps me to remember and maybe one day prove to somebody that this is different. It is not like we thought it was.

It is the small things.

 Like seven dollars for a jar of beets.

I like beets. I like to eat them. I like to drink beet juice.
I would not like to pay seven dollar a jar for picked or non-picked beets.

That is just me. I can afford too. I have the money in my wallet.

But when did this become the norm for downtown Los Angeles?

Since gentrification. I don't see gentrification as good or bad. It is the normal change of how human see resources.

When people with money and no place to go turn their attention to poor or broke folks neighborhoods that is when trouble starts to brew.

What is bad is how humans behave when gentrification arrives. First order of business, jack up the rents and push existing businesses out.

And no matter how many times the existing neighborhood folks asked for assistance in dealing with crime and problem all of the sudden there is a police presence. The undesirables are pushed out and away.

This can include many of the same folks that spent 10+ years trying to get attention.

When people with money and no place to go start to root in poor or broke folks neighborhoods they discover stuff.

Or not. 

People and places and things are disappearing.

I'm taking notes but I'm not sure who to report back to; you see I have been told that I am no longer relevant and hurry up and die.

As always, I chose to be a contrarian.

Too Old For Music - Nah

Today is Make Music in Pasadena day. A bunch of music performers will descend on the joint and play in real time. It is about non-top 40 music. Most of these folks will have their clothes on and will be able to sing without computer enhancement.



This is a good thing. Finding moments and performers you had no clue they were on the planet.

I'm going even though being a cubical bunny is not preparation enough to be walking 10 or more blocks and back. Not to mention trying to find the re-routed buses that will take me home.

Yet I need to walk. To see the trees. The bums and hobos interacting with a in-flux of hipsters. The real folks taking a day for themselves and chilling to some tunes. The pissed off drivers who will have to take side road and get lost and still try to bust through a baracade with cops looking them dead in the eye.

I've seen it happen. Twice.

I'm going. I don't know any of the performers. I do know there will be food trucks. Some day I will see the legendary Kogi truck and bow to the greatness of the Roy. This year I'm hitting the back streets for the alley bands and non-pop performers. 

And though I have rested and prepared I know I'm gonna take one step too far.

Today I walk.

Tomorrow there will be pain. Feet will be angry. Certain joints will commiserate with the feet. That fire shrimp burrito will do a number on my stomach that I will pray to the gods to intercede for mercy.

Tomorrow I'll have to do laundry, finish my homework, work on a portfolio piece and other things that won't get done because I freaking will hurt until the ibuprofen and ice packs kicks in.

It will be worth it to hear that voice or band that rocked the hell out of a tune that can't be replicated no matter how many times they perform live. And to hold that in my heart for a moment is worth any pain the flesh can conjure.

Going Binary - The Non-Discussion Video

I strive to understand. Then I understand and then wonder how we ever got out of the mud, the cave and the mire. I don't think we have. We live in houses. We have reasonably safer food and clothing. Yet that sex thing just makes people go cray-cray.

Sex.

Religion.

It is almost the same thing but one is a heck of a lot more pleasurable. Hard to mix and match so I am all for keeping one of them out of public discourse. Americans can't handle it. We just can't. I say put religion back in the closet where it belongs.




But that is just me.

If the premise is that women should only have sex for procreation then I supposed you wouldn't need birth control. If your believe that sex is only for married couples then I supposed those couples should not be doing the bang bang with a pill and a condom.

I beseech thee, one faith does not fit all.

I wanted to respond to the statements made by Huckabee regarding all of us loose, libido driven women. Women who plan when they want to start their families. Women who use their work insurance where they do pay into a plan to have coverage. Women who want to love, have sex, fuck and be fucked well.

Women who take birth controls pills to control their menstrual flow or other medical conditions. I wanted to respond with facts and reason and rock solid verification of the truth.

Not the space and time I live in. Sound bites. Sound bytes. 140 characters and tsk, tsk. So this video is about getting binary with the word fuck. I don't normally use it but since I'm hooked on the sugar I am a known offender.

This is my third attempt at finding ways to make a video poem. It seems that I'm getting progressively shorter in my videos. It is the times I live in; shallow and to the point with links you can't beg folks to read as opposed to skim.

Ah, well.

Passion - A Visual Poem Trying to Make Cents

I'm always fussing about not having time. Not having enough time. Running out of time. Yes, I work a day job and I take classes both on and off-line. Then there is that sleep thing that I never seem to get enough off any more. Or I need more of it. I'm not sure.

I have been blocked. I caught a dose of the writers and video block. Depression. Sadness. Feeling that I don't have anything to say or show. This is not the truth but when you get caught in that loop you are constrained.




One of the things that help to shake me out of it was finding out that someone that was really productive and creative was going through the same thing. If this guy had a creativity block then a shrub like me has every right to have one too.

He wasn't the only one who was fighting to create and carry on with the day to day living. And then you have the other end where folks are popping videos like rabbits after an orgy.

Humbling.

So I have a new project that I have a goal of at least ten videos. The name of this project is Making ¢ents of it all. We pay for what we learn and don't learn. The little things add up. A penny for a thought.

It is a little different than what I've done in the past. I want to use video to create visual types of prose poems or found poetry. Sometimes narrated but sometimes not.

I know it is healthier for me when I create or write. I do have to fight to make the time. It is a fight but planning and lowering expectations are tools in the battle.

Lowing expectation meaning I do what I can this day. I have to hold tight to the fact that I make videos but they are not going to win me a prize anytime soon. But I have things to say so that is more important than being the next Captain Whizbang of Vid-E-Oh.

I have to clear my own path; be my cheerleader and take out the trash.

So be it.

Somedays I Only Want to Hug My Blanket

Status Report: School is going well except when I have to write a paper. I normally can crank out a report without busting a sweat. Not in the Digital Archiving class. I'm learning multiple new skills at the same time that I have to practice them.

The class is doing wonders for my brain cells stimulation but I have to squeeze out time from the early morning or late evening hours. Time I use to allocate to blogging. You might not be aware of this but there really are only 24 hours in a day.

Some of that time is designated for sleeping. It seems that I have been shaving more of my sleep time than my body is willing to accept. There are protest and on certain occasions shutdown actions.

I had a shutdown action last week. I wanted to finish reading a book. The body stated that this was not acceptable and you will enter shutdown mode in 5...4...3...2......zzzzzz.

At which time I fell asleep. Then I woke up ten minutes later with the book still in my hands.

Only to get the shutdown notice again.

Yes, once again I'll dredged up the fact that I could go to school, watch the Late, Late, Late Show on television take a half hour nap and then head back to school.

I need that kind of energy and it is long gone. I just gotta make it over the hump. December is coming. Normally I hate that month but now it has a certain appeal in that when I finish this semester I'll get some sleep time before the next semester kicks into gear.

In the meantime, I have my old school Kindle read me stories in an automated, non-emotional voice. I usually drop off to sleep as it drones on but I get a taste of the book.

There are days when you only have time for a taste. Savor what you can.

Not Saponaceous Choices and Considerations

This is just an introduction type post about personal lubrication for women over a certain age. I’m not a medical professional, sex expert or a working girl.

I am a person that wants to bring attention to an important issue that is in a choke hold between those that only see lubrication as a sex tool and medical people that try to strip every sexual noun and verb out of female health and sexuality issues.

Okay, now that we are clear that there are multiple reasons to use personal lubrication, such as hormonal changes, stress, a medical issue or, as I was reminded in the drugstore, lubes designed to help with conception.

A reminder, you are adding a substance to your body. You need to be aware that just because it is on a shelf in a drugstore or supermarket it doesn’t necessarily make it a safe product for you.  

Image from 1918 Gray's Anatomy from Wikimedia

My Biases

We all have them but I want to be clear on what my filter system is about items that go into the body. I lean toward natural, non-toxic and will do no harm to the body.

I wanted to say that because some of the choices in the stores are not safe or desirable to use. I’d really rather you didn’t pay cash for chemical cooties but that is a choice you have to make.

Yeah, I know, get on with it.

What You Don’t Want In A Lube

• Parabens – Industrial preservative.


• Glycerin – is a form of sugar. The vagina has bacteria. Sugar + bacteria + a warm environment? For those that do not bake the short answer is yeast. If you are prone to vaginal infections you might want to use Glycerin-Free type products.


• Petrochemicals – If any form of the ingredient can be found in a car engine, gas tank or derived from an oil refinery I’d take a pass at putting it your body.

Oil Lubes

Talk about tradition. One of the oldest forms of lubrication. I’m talking bear fat, butter, Crisco, and, ew, Petroleum Jelly. It is so much better in the now times.

You can do either natural or synthetic oils.

Natural oils can be based on nut and fruit oils such as Avocado, Almond or Olive Oil. You can raid the kitchen but in many drugstores there are oils in the hair and skincare isle that are specific formulated for massage and dry skin control. The are extremely affordable, like under $3 and contain one or two ingredients, the oil and maybe a fragrance.

There are other natural oils that you don’t necessarily want to apply to your lady bits such as Menthol, Eucalyptus, Peppermint or oils that are infused with perfume or irritants if you have sensitive skin.

Synthetic oils will be your petrochemicals such as Baby Oil, Mineral Oil, Petroleum Jelly and an alphabet soup of unpronounceable variations. Synthetic oils will be absorbed by the body and I’m not sure that you really want to ingest petroleum into your system.

The downside? You cannot use oils with Latex condoms. Oils can be runny. They can be messy.

In my opinion, oils might be better for external use on the clitoris as opposed to vaginal use.

Silicone Lubes

Silicone lubes can be formulated to have the texture and consistency users want. You apply it and it stays put. The problem is that it stays put, meaning that it could be a possible way for bacteria and infectious type matter to gain a path to your inners.

It does not quickly dissolve in water. And you can’t use silicone based sex toys with Silicone lubes, it will dissolve your investment. You have to make sure that the lube is removed from the vagina because of the risk of providing an environment for bacteria growth.

Water Based Lubes

Water lubes have water as the prominent ingredient; there is other stuff to help it gel up. If you have sensitive skin and are cautious about the other ingredients use this might be the way to go. Water lubes can dry out; a spritz of water is all you need to re-hydrate.

They are the most affordable of the three commercial types of lube but you gotta be on the look-out for the chemicals you don’t want.

Resources

A Woman’s Touch Guide on How to Choose A Lube

Good Vibrations Article on How To Choose A Lubricant

Everyday Health How to Choose A Lubricant

Not Saponaceous A Dip in the Water

This isn't about me showing off about what I know about lube. The point of these Saponaceous posts is to take this subject out of the medicine cabinet and into the realm of accessible information.




It seems that outside of the sex blog world there is no talk about a health product that also provides pleasure assistance. I don't want to diminish the sexual aspect of personal lubrication.

I'm not a sex educator but Shanna Katz is; in this video she talks about the use of water based lubrication products.

In the next post, I'll go into more detail about the types of lubes and best uses for each version of the product. I wanted to post this video to show that real women talk about sex products and resources.

Each one teach one.

Not Saponaceous Just the Facts

So, I have been meaning to write lubrication posts for months. First, I was going to test them out. It would have been a one sided test but I was game until the blues put a damper on my desire enter the laboratory.

Which is a lousy thing to have happen. If you are deep in the blues lube cannot help you. Moisturizers can’t fix everything.

Lubrication, moisturizer, lube. The language fails me so I guess I’m gonna use all three terms. This is probably a good time to define the terms. I’m not big on euphemisms for body parts.

I can say lady bits but I’m not saying that va jay jay business. I will use grown up words like clitoris and vulva and maybe some other stuff too.




A personal lubricant can be used to restore moisture to the vagina. Yes, there are lubricants for the anus but this isn’t about the anus this is about the vagina.

Lubricants have a use beyond sex play or pleasure enhancement. It can help to relieve vaginal dryness. There is more than one kind of dryness; topical where you just need a a temporary replenishment or it could be vaginal dryness caused by a medical condition.

You’ll need to speak with a health care provider if it is a medical problem.

What Happened?

For age related vaginal dryness it is the loss of estrogen. The vaginal walls are becoming thinner. Not as much moisture is working its way down the chute.

It could be stress; and peri-menopause is indeed a stressful event. It could be depression, anxiety or a number of emotional condition.

It could also be the stuff you use; the soap you bath in, certain shower gels, or so-called hygiene products.

Or it could be a combination of things that you will have to figure out.

If your you are experiencing vagina dryness because of age because of age, peri-menopause or menopause then a topical treatment might do you just fine.

Not Saponaceous 2013 The Pre-Ramble

The day before Valentine’s Day. My understanding is that Saint Valentine was not supposed to be getting it on with the Sister down the road. Or Brother cuz I do want to be inclusive. He probably didn't. I couldn't really say, never met the man.

Spiritually or corporeally when you get it on, or get down or make with the bangity bang bang you sometimes need a bit of assistance. I have a lot of assistance.

About a year ago I noticed how much lubrication product I had in my possession. Lest you think I am having Roscoe Palmer over on Friday nights, the lube in question came from my attendance at BlogHer and other women attended conferences.

Swag can be good and good for you. Meaning it is water based and not the Silicone stuff. But I’m getting a head of the story Yes, women should stock up on non-petrochemical lube.

For the next few posts it is gonna be about lubrication. The personal type used by humans.

Which now leads me to explain the title of this post. Saponaceous means fat or greasy. Which is what most of us do not want in a personal product. Saponaceous has a wonderful mouth sound when you say it.
 

I know full well if I put lube or lubrication in the title I'm going to have visitors. And some of them are gonna be bummed out because there will be no nekkid people. Or really explicit talk.


Or I'll get invitations to certain sites with offers to hook up with certain kinds of services. Can I say no thank you in advance?

I want to tear down the information wall but I'm not a sex blogger. I write about sex sometimes because it interest me. I am still human.  I can prove it.

I smile when I think about that Zardoz photo. Hell, why deprive myself; it is my blog:

Seriously, it never gets old for me. Love those boots.

Ahem.

Real people do talk about sex and health issues. Personal lubrication is a sex AND health issue that needs to be talked about with like minded souls. Souls that experiencing the life change and are finding out that it can be uncomfortable to move or be moved.

I'm talking about walking but other movements as well.

There is a point to this, I swear. 

Peri-menopause changes your body. You are in freaking free fall and yet you are expected to carry on and pretend that everything is okie-dokie. It is not.

And when you land in Menopause then you have to learn how to deal with this new body that ain’t exactly like the old one you had before but looks like it.

There will be videos. There will be places I'll recommend to visit. There will be thoughts. Maybe a podcast recommendation or two to help inspire you to appreciate and apply auditory and tactile transmedia experiences.

Not sure about that one; I'm picky about what I put in my ears as well as my body.


I feel nervous so this must be a good thing to do.

Onward.

I Know What A Rutabaga Is Dang It!

I am encountering people perceiving me as less than competent when my grey hair is exposed.

That I am no spring chicken.
That I am nearing my expiration date in terms of my opinions and social relevance.
That I am out of shape and it is too late to do anything about it.
That I have instantly become daft.

I was in the supermarket. I bought rutabagas.  Not turnips.

At checkout, the young man is looking up the vegetable he can enter the right code. I tell him it is a rutabaga.

"No, it is a turnip."

"It is a rutabega," I repeat.

"No, it's a turnip."

Now I could have stood in a busy supermarket arguing the point but I have learned that there are certain things your should not fight to the end of the line.

I could have yanked his behind over to the vegetable section where someone had put a sign that said rutabegas. I could have pulled out my smartphone and spent five minutes searching for a mobile photo of a rutabega.

No, I let the boy child ring it up as he pleased.

Let the record show that I know my vegetables and I did indeed buy a yellow rutabega.

Yes, I know that in some parts of the country both items are called the same things.

Not the point.

He judged the vegetable by the purple banding.
They are not quite the same, rutabages have a very strong taste.

We judge people by the externals.

This is not right.

Robert Scheer and How He Got to Vietnam

Robert Scheer knows a lot of people. Some of the people he mentions in this clip recorded at the Media Makers 99% Summit I haven't a strong connection as to who they are or were. Lots of history gets lost that way.



I have heard of Paul Krassner but not to clear on the details. The good news is that I should probably find out why this man is important or at least why does Scheer think so.

For more information about Robert Scheer you can check out www.truthdig.com.

Robert Scheer on Working for the Los Angeles Times

The realities of current living make me want to hide in a deep cave but that isn't what I was sent here on the planet to do.


In March 2012 I attended the Media Makers for the 99% Summit. Robert Scheer was one of the speakers. He has a lot of things to say and I got about 40 some minutes of him saying it.  In this video clip, he is talking about how he got started, his liberalism and working for the Los Angeles Times.

Objectivity is subjective. Pick the subject and we may or may not have a bias but we are self centered about how we see the world. We all are. You don't have to pick a side, this is human nature.

But it does help to explain how we got into this mess we find ourselves. It is one thing to be sitting in a bar talking trash. Is is another to legislate with trash biased thinking.

The Older Women In the Room

Well that title will scare off a bunch of people. I know my gray hair did at the conference. But that isn't the whole story. I want to tell the whole truth. I was in transit when I heard that President Obama would speak at BlogHer.

Once I got settled into the hotel, I went to a Duane Reed drugstore and bought hair dye. I was not going to be in that ballroom with the President without flashing some reddish hair. I was going to do it. Until I realized that there was no way for me to clean up hair dye in a hotel room.

I wished I had worked this out before spending $9 on Natural Instincts. Or getting the fact straight that he was doing a live video presentation from the White House.

Still, Little Miss Aging Affirmative got stuck in the hoopla of appearance phobia.

Then I went the other way. Washed and picked out my natural hair. It is gray and brown and dark brown and whatever else ancestor want to put a word in. to the mix.



It was like I opened a can of Raid or something. My friends and on-line acquaintances that knew me embraced me like a long lost friend. Newbies and those women under a certain age kept their distance.

There is a reason for that, check out the video.

I walked a lot in New York City. I saw many a woman stroll down the street styled perfectly. Young, old, trendy. They were wearing the perfection suit of invisibility. Attractive enough to approach but only if you could reach the bar of acceptance.



Time and living have raised the bar on me and I didn't know. Or want to know. I kept on walking and looking at the images of Park Avenue mannequins, the ones in the window. Alabaster white, sleek and implacable in the seller's point of view.

To be fair, there were some onyx mannequins that did little more than hold up the status of tight clothes on young ridged bodies.



Brand identity and storytelling they call it. But it leaves a lot of people out of the narrative.

My bodies story isn't being told. This is not acceptable. Really, it is not.

The video clips are excerpts from my recording of the Blogging Into MidLife session at BlogHer 2012 NYC.

Ann Dunnewold writes about aging issues on her blog at VibrantNation.com
Darryle Pollack blogs at http://blog.darrylepollack.com
Patricia Patton hangs her shingle at http://www.boomerwizdom.com

I'm working on uploading the full session, hope to have it up soon.

In Memory of Fred and Tears of Remembrance

Each generation brings something new to the party. What we held true 20 years ago gets pushed to the past and then evaporated. It is hard to understand until you live it. I have my memories and they can't really be touched by re-inventors.

Most of the time.

This is a re-mix video by PBS Digital Studios called Garden of the Mind. It is some words and moments  with a neighbor.



It has been a good long while since Fred Rogers has passed on. Certainly a icon in children's television and as an advocate of quality television.

I remember seeing Mr. Rogers talking to Congress about the need for a national educational television system. In that quiet powerful way the real Fred Rogers got the money.


I've seen Fred parodied by comedians and some were less than kind.  You had to work hard to find people who would publicly said they didn't care for the man or his show. Sure, they would have had to been a couple of folks. But not many.

On of my favorite stories is when his car was stolen on day one and on day two it was returned with an apology because they didn't know it was "his car."

Truth be told, I barely hear the music in the video. I think what struck me was his reminder to be creative, to explore, to be open.

To be kind. Civil. Engaged.

I'm tearing up again. That man has me in tears and it is not logical.

I gotta brace up and get on with the day.

Confirmed - I'm Not In the One Percent

The appointment was for 4:30 p.m. I get there at 4:10 p.m. and wait for about an hour or so. In the meantime I get to read a 1% magazine. I am sure that the 1% folks read this magazine because there were ads in it for jewelry that crested around the $367,000 level.

I'm not into polished rocks but I have to say there was not a cubic zirconia in the entire magazine. Fire stones and ice laced with golden circles. There was skimpy food served on porcelain . There were rich guys on private islands trying to keep the natives from encroaching on their land.

There were men in pinstripe suits so tight they couldn't pass gas. You could tell they steamed those male models to make sure not a fleck of dirt got near the cloth of the hem of that suit.

Truth be told I was focusing on the men because if you see one blonde woman wearing an evening gown on a surf board you have seen plenty.

No ads for plastic surgery or lap bands. No ads for ED. There were a lot of stories about exclusive hotels that have rooms for $2, 500+ a night.

Photographically the place looked magical. Until it got to the food. If I'm paying $100 a meal there has got to be some food on the plate. I like impressionistic paintings but I just can't do impressionistic dinning.

I read that sucker from stem to stern and not only did I learn that I am not worthy of the finer things in life I am content in my undesirability to swig up on high tone white rum. Unless you are going to mix some in rum raisin ice cream or rum water ice.

See, pedestrian. I know it.

This is not to say that if my long lost Sugar Daddy, or as I would prefer it, My patron and artistic supporter, happen to show up and offered me a weekend on the island I'd refuse.

I would not.

But we'd be stopping at the market to pick up some real food before we board the flight.

Passing Through June Gloom

June Gloom here in Los Angeles is when the mornings are really cloudy. It is cool outside. It is blah. As the day moves on it get sunny and bright. The warmth hits the body and life is good again.

But you have to pass through June Gloom.

Not only a weather condition but a reality of life. You can BS yourself into saying you want make a change or you can just up and do it.

Most folks would rather not. People change because they are in trouble and they have no choice in the matter. I am of the opinion you should not wait for life to kick your tushy in order to make it happen. Life kicks kinda hard and it is usually the same lesson I thought I learned the last time.

I know I have to put new things in place. I am ready. I've been ready but that fear monster creeps up on you. The "woulda, coulda, shoulda's" are hitting me hard now.

I am being cryptic and I don't mean to be. I would like to take different kinds of multimedia storytelling classes. That can happen; I just need to find one that I can afford and I don't need to drive to get there.

I need to clear out old unused ideas and how it use to be.  Those days are gone. What do I want to do now?

What I know is that the world I was prepped for is almost gone. Since I am planning to be around for a bunch more years what do I do? With what skills?

How many tribes will I have to hook up with that will have me? 

I'm thinking hard about it and it is still the June Gloom that envelopes me.

I know it.

I am not a patient person. I am still working on that lesson. I still am rubbing my tushy.

Searching for Auditory Pleasures Part 2

After a long day at the salt mine I get to come home and look for non-skeezy and titillating podcasts. Friends, it ain't easy but somebody has to do it. I think I was flapping my jaws about some sexually repressive outrage. Next thing you know I am trying to avoid malware and bad sex writers.

That might be one and the same thing. You can learn a lot by seeking out erotic podcasts.

I have to be careful what I listen to because it could wind up in a dream. I got plenty enough action. So much so I have a hard time waking up. Unless I am hanging on a cliff or something. You don't want to be banging somebody in a dream and then fall of the cliff.

I've done that. In real life or a dream you do not want to go over a cliff. Trust me.


There are ad free erotic podcasts. There are also the ones for sale after you get a sample listen. Sadly there is crud. For now, I'm staying on the public roads. I should mention that many of the erotic podcasts are sponsored by Adam and Eve. Nothing I can do about it except maybe fast forward.

Any more disclaimers? Yes. I am really more interested in the story and how sex facilitates telling the tale. Not really fond of the man-dang-bang kind of stories. Your taste will be different.

Where was I? Oh yeah. for our literary celebration of Masturbation Month 2012 I have found Spice, Romantic Stories of Love. This is also on iTunes which you now can do a web preview.


Sassy is the narrator. She does a good job but I think the stories are more for couples. There is a situation, a lot of description so that you have the set up in your head and then off to the races. There are about fifty stories and they don't run longer than 15 minutes.


I also found The Kiss Me Quick Erotic Podcast. This is a relatively new show but has got potential. Rose Caraway does the honors of writing and performing her work. Rose's podcast is also on iTunes. I did like her Succubus series specially episode #4 but the shorter work are a challenge for me.

I think if I was a guy I'd like them better. They are often written with a male point of view. Women can get off on a story written that way but I generally don't. Again, I do like long form storytelling so it is more me than her.

Okay that should help some of you get to sleep and you won't need a pill either.

You Are Still A Young Man - Idiot!

I have to straddle a line between retaliation and just let it pass. I haven't told you the story yet. There is always a story. It is not apocryphal. It is tough out there in the brick and mortar world.

I was on the train. Young man and his friend enter the car as they start talking about girls. I have dubbed him Dumbstruck and his sidekick, Goofy.

So Dumbstruck was yacking on how he could not find any chicks. It was too early and the girls were not liquored up yet.  It was around 5pm so I could kinda see his dilemma. It was all I could do not to want to hit Dumbstruck upside the head.

Goofy co-sign with an understanding head bob to Dumbstruck's assessment of the situation.

Dumbstruck then continued conversing how he could find nothing but ugly women all day long. He had a need to find pretty girls.

I'm taking a quick look. The body seemed to be between 18-20 years of age. Rail skinny. Could not detect any form of rump on his behind. It looked to be all bone and not much of that. A strong draft beer in a tea cup could knock him down the street.

He wasn't ugly but I can't seen anybody rushing to lock lips on him. You couldn't do it anyway. The main feature was his mouth. Damn thing would not stop moving unless he was coming up for air. 

Goofy had a half pound more meat on his frame but his main attraction is that he doesn't say much.

Anyway, Dumbstruck goes on and on and on until a woman ask him "where he is getting off the train?' He responds "MacArthur Park."

She gets up and moves to the far end of the car.

Normal people might have taken that as a clue but Dumbstruck starts to harp on her that if she didn't like what he had to say "she shoulda put on her earphones". He rags on her for about three minutes about his right of freedom of speech and then goes back to his subject of choice.

Girls.

There are ugly women. There are old women.There are pretty girls.

These can be divided into the ones that will talk with you, the ones that won't (forget them, he told Goofy) and the ones that will do stuff. His job, as he sees it, is to locate that female objectified possessive noun and do what he wants.

Not his fault if they are stupid. 

You know just typing this I want to smack him for all the girl children on the planet. 

I didn't trust myself. I would have smacked him on behalf of the decent guys too.

I tried tuning him out. I had my mediation music. I'm trying to go to my happy place but Dumbstruck's voice carried louder than I could safely turn up the volume on my media player.

My understanding is that he was heading home to get ready to go to a party or series of parties where he could find and "do something" with some liquored up young girl.

Goofy was down widdit widdit. Non-verbally speaking.

Now, maybe it is me. I haven't been around a young man in a long time.  It is one thing to brag about your imaginary skills with the ladies.

It is another to announce to captive train audience that you need to have the object of your desire incapacitated before you can get anywhere.

I don't think you can be that drunk to let Dumbstruck touch you let alone "do something"  but I don't know what the heck is going on with young folks now days.

Eggad, I've crossed over. 

All I know is that by the time the clowns got off the train I mentally turned in my imaginary cougar card. I was thinking about guys in the 30s or 40s but it would take 20 plus years to clean out the dreck in that kind of head. At that rate I'd be 75.

No. If they are making the current crop of young men that stupid, that selfish, hate based and penile directed then whomever wants that slab of bones can have him. And Goofy too.


As for me, I gotta find better headphones.

There Is Still Much to Say

There was a time when 999 was the highest amount of posts you could upload on Blogger. I wasn't too worried about it because I didn't think I'd reach 999 posts. I don't think about things like that because they intimidate me.

Here I am. Number 1,000 according to my post log. Dang! I feel good about it.

I wrote long before there was blogging. Use to do an e-mail news letter. Had a old school user page that required HTML. I never warmed up to Dreamweaver but I gave it a go because I had much to say and thought my voice was as valid as some of the others on the World Wide Web.

In 2004 I came to Blogger.


In one of my early post I shared the lyrics to Sky Pilot. There was no way to easily embed video. There was no YouTube and I would not have known about this video from the CBC in Vancouver.  This is a video montage created by the CBC performed by Eric Burdon and The Animals:



I have an attacment to this song because I would hear it on the radio. I might have been between 9 and 11 years of age. I don't remember. But I didn't connected the song with the Vietnam war.

I thought of Snoopy and the Red Baron. I was a kid.  I related to the world that I knew.

This is such a different place. I now understand about the price of war on human bodies and minds. I understand that there have been other wars and some folks are now shopping for a new one to keep the military industrial corporation going.

"You'll never, never, never, reach the sky."

There was a time when I did not have my face on the blog. In 1999 had read a book about being on the Internet that talked about this guy who was making serious cash money doing web work but it got out that he was a black man.

His work dried up. At that time there were people that would attack you for being "the other."

Not much has changed. There are increasing attacks on women and feminist bloggers.

I have learned that you can't hide who you are. There are people that need to see that an African American woman has a blog. That I write about a variety of issues and concerns.

There is no point in trying to pin me down to a specific topic, not in this blog. One day it is politics, the next is noticing that Brookstone in the mall has a bunch of vibrators on sale for the holidays.

Seriously, not the cheap stuff. We are talking the upper level stroke, stroke, stroke until le petit mort kind of gear.

I get distracted. Too much is going on these days.

I bought a fountain pen. I'm going back to writing on paper first and then uploading. Has more to do with eye and hand preservation. It also has to do with allowing the words to come at a contemplative speed. I want time to think, not just react.

I don't like Facebook but I check in on friends. I like Google+ better but I don't have the time to do more than and comment on friends and followers post. There is some new widget that allows me to copy my post here to my G+ page. I might do that. Not sure.

Twitter, which I didn't initially care for, has been my day to day catch up with folks.

My blog - this is my home ground. My stoop. I know it. I'm okay here. I haven't been posting much because I got stuff going on. I have to make decisions about my life in 2012. What do I want to do? What do I need to do?

No matter what those choices are I still intend to blog. And write. Maybe a video now and then.

This blog is what made the connections with other people possible.

There are days when I get fed up with the stupidity of human beings. The American branch has plum lost their minds. Not sure they are going to get it together, it will take something awful to re-connect with each other.

It doesn't have to be that way but not sure if we can come together. Too many forces profit from keeping us apart.

So I still blog. One post at a time. I hope I remain unpredictable but who knows what changes can happen. Be open to the possible has served me well. I commit to that and the future.