He reads it for the articles

What do you mena it's not going to be at the theatres?

Mena Suvari Sex Scene from Stuck - video powered by Metacafe

Yeah, it's going straight to DVD...Gee is that really all that surprising?

If you failed to get the gist of the clip, or Google anything about it, it's a hit and run that's a hit and miss. It's a film called "Stuck" but it doesn't stick around and well...yeah we could go on and on like this. The three minutes up there, that's probably all anyone is going to watch (which is almost as bad as getting hit by a car).

These for walls

Image of Milan Kundera by Adolph Hoffmeister (1968)

There's a book by Milan Kundera about a character who feels that her identity is defined by the things that she surrounded herself with -- things such as:
her cat, certain photographs, books, clothes, records that she painstakingly accrued -- that all of thee things were deliberate clues about her inner life and self.

The character's sister on the other hand believed that the external was irrelevant and her essence was completely divorced from her physical belongings or surroundings.

I read this book approximately, um...let's just say several years ago -- around the time I had just graduated from high school...grudgingly moving onto college and so on. Wide eyed and full of whatever you're full of at that moment I moved into my first apartment or "flat" for you English folk.

Perhaps the checks still had mom and dad's signatures in them, but it was nonetheless my own personal and private space.

But I digress...
I found myself now with the lone and self supplying responsibilty of decorating and adorning this new place exactly how I wanted, without fear of reprimand from parents or school officials, certainly any professional help.

The book still fresh in my head, I couldn't help but think of Kundera's "first sister." Belongings seemed so important, almost defining and shaping of her way of figuring out who she was and where she fit in the world.

Thinking it was only a book, and knowing the kind of creep I am, I felt a bit superior to this fictional character and the notion that material objects could define me. If years of good school, strong role models, and cable television couldn't get a word in edgewise, there was no way a poster or armoir were going to spell me out.

My identity is so not idefined by an accumulation of THINGS, (uh junk really if you consider where most of these things have been found).

I fully appropriated the second sister's philosophy: I looked down my nose at friends or rather posers who seemed so concerned with buying just the right albums, the right clothes, the right pictures or posters to plaster their places with.

I actually kind of felt a little sorry for them too because it all seemed like a weak, simplistic, fumbling attempt to create a ready-made personality. "I'm the kind of girl who listens to Sixties mod, reads Martin Amis, brushes my teeth with Tom's of Maine." It was lazy conformity.

BLEH.

For the first two years that I lived there, I made it a point to keep my walls bare and make sure books and cd's were not prominently displayed. I hated the idea that someone could just walk into my room and feel they got a sense of who I was merely by glancing at the trash I kept around.

It sounds pretentious and dumb...AND IT WAS!

After a while, the design aesthetic of my living space was not so much rooted in philosophical conviction as in laziness. I never bothered to frame or hang the lovely Frank Lloyd Wright wrapping paper my mother got me as a gift. I had no pictures of family or friends, no artwork, no band posters, nothing. My walls were completely blank, and they were ugly.

The walls in my place these days? Heh.

Well, at least I keep a kind of lazy blog right?

I'm sorry miss, but that ball was OUTSIDE the line.

Oral Intercourse

image found via buzzfeed

As in speaking and using words WORDS, gutterbrain!

Yeah here's a chart of all the little nothings you may or may not say in the middle of well, you know.

Have a look, have a response, do it all here, and then do it elsewhere if you like.

It's like basic economics

Oh The New Yorker, you are so smart.



Is this your way of telling/showing me, or rather your readers all about the proportion of sexual wants to sexual needs?

Yeah, you can't always get what you want - or not all that you want...but that's no reason to set your sights so low as to try only to get what you need, right?

Funny, it mostly makes me think of Basic Economics:

Want vs. Need

"A need is something you have to have, something you can't do without. A good example is food. If you don't eat, you won't survive for long. Many people have gone days without eating, but they eventually eat a lot of food. You might not need a whole lot of food, but you do need to eat.

A want is something you would like to have. It is not absolutely necessary, but it would be a good thing to have. A good example is music. Now, some people might argue that music is a need because they think they can't do without it. But you don't need music to survive. You do however need to eat.

Some categories have both needs and wants. For instance, food could be a need or a want, depending on the type of food.

You need to eat protein, vitamins, and minerals. How you get them is up to you (and your family). You can eat meat, nuts, or soy products to get protein. You can get fruits and vegetables to get vitamins and minerals. You can eat yogurt or cheese to get other vitamins and minerals. You can eat bread to get still more vitamins and minerals. These basic kinds of foods are needs.

Ice cream is a want. You don't really need to eat ice cream to survive. You can eat it to get some vitamins and minerals, but other foods like cheese and yogurt give you more of those same vitamins and minerals without giving you the fat that ice cream does. Still, ice cream tastes good to many people. They like to eat it. They want it, but they don't need it. They like it, but they don't have to have it to survive." --Economics 101

Well I really need to want something now...Ice cream and ITunes comes to mind. G'night.

Photos anyone?

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
Nothing but net:

I think I was half expecting to find crabs and shells on that net.

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +


Hey it's just a game, no sense in losing your head about it right?

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
What can I say?

We had a ball.
(This ball was found in a parking lot...all by it's lonesome)

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

If a blog could have a theme song...

This might very well be it (well kinda)


Everyone sing along:

That's right, pleased to meet you
I still won't tell you my name.
Don't you believe in mystery,
Don't you want to play my game?

I'm looking for a man to love me,
Like I've never been loved before.
I'm looking for a man who'll do it anywhere,
Even on the limousine floor.

Chorus:
'Cause tonight, living in a fantasy,
My own little nasty world.
Tonight, don't you want to come with me,
Do you think I'm a nasty girl?
(repeat)

Actually Prince might find this, tear it down and sue... :(

Here's to music genius and short lived blog theme songs.

Cheers!

Eating Pumpkin

Cheating.

Is it learned behavior?
We don't know.

Is it instinct or environment?
We don't know.

Is it stupid?
Oh completely.

Do we do it anyway?
EVERY chance we get...until we get caught (I never got caught, had suspicion sure, but eh).

*(VO=voice-over

The term voice-over refers to a production technique where a non-diagetic voice is broadcast live or pre-recorded in radio, television, film, theater and/or presentation.^[1] The voice-over may be spoken by someone who also appears on-screen in other segments or it may be performed by a specialist voice actor. Voice-over is also commonly referred to as "off camera" commentary.

The term voice-over can also refer to the actual voice actor who performed the recording. The terms voice actor, narrator, voice artist, announcer are all similarly used.

For the purpose of this blog, this technique has been used badly. So much so, the GF decided to create an OV=over-voice. The voice this blog will use as the voice over's foil)

But those questions aside...am I one?

VO: Hmm...I suppose so, yes.
OV: I'm reformed (I think)...or recovering?

OV: Recovering cheater?
VO: Alcoholics are always alcoholics GF.
OV: Not that I'm addicted to penis (as fun an addiction that might sound like).

But I'd say I'm reformed and cool considering that in the last 4 years I have not cheated on my current BF (yeah we've been together five, shut up).

I'd say that's quite sobering and healthy --one day at a time journey....

Ex's, if you're out there (I'll deny it, plus how would you even know I was the one blogging?) reading this right now, yeah I probably and most definitely cheated on you at one point or other.

I never did it as a personal attack.
I don't think I ever actively pursued others or meant to do the cheating, but I also didn't fight hard enough not to, so yeah--I was a dick.

Sometimes I didn't even think it was cheating because I had a set of rules about it...

Something about not looking,or not being availble makes you the sudden fad of the day...I dunno.

Maybe there was a growing interest in dweeby girls...who knows.

The point is, I've cheated on every BF I've ever had...okay except one. But that tale is too heartbreaking/lame a tale to get into right now...

I also suddenly have a powerful hankering for pumpkin pie.

Later.

Has it really been that long?

Bloggy, there's no need to get down about my predicament. Life's long and end all is not sustained by my "getting any."

Remember, for a good 16 years I went with out.
Of course for those 16 years I was also quite content with cartoons, Nintendo, and going to the movies WITHOUT parental guidance.

Yeah those were some days. :)

Heheh, plus let's not forget that when I got it then, I didn't know what I was supposed to do with it. I think I was also more interested in getting a driver's license.

Uh, so strange how our standards change and stay the same as the years go by, huh?

I mean I still dont' know how to get it, but I still beam at how well I do at parallel parking. ;)

Don't you wanna know how we keep starting fires?

This came into question earlier...just trust me. :)

Did the earth move?

Hardly.



But yeah you know...
Bloggy, without having to get really graphic, I think we can safely say that a certain lil' engine got her way after all. In a sense...

Sure it took some major convincing on my part (and I am quite the orator), but at least I didn't even have to buy him dinner.

Off track is the same track

Worked another really really really long day. We're talking feet barking up a storm and back just totally aching.

Mindless little details, dull repetition and banter I just didn't want to listen to (and I didn't).

Most of the time, I kept thinking, "I'd really like to get laid."

At least I think I want that.

It's mindless, it's repetition, it's a banter...

Like that's what's was going to make my life simpler...as if getting that accomplished would make everything else during the day (or week or past month) all go away.

I guess it did help a little, because after a while, I started to think like The Little Engine.



I think i can get laid, I think I can I think I can.

I thought about calling my BF's mobile. I had an hour for lunch, I was also really close to home.

His phone was off.

I texted his sister (how fucked up is that?), to call him at home (I don't call home--the mother could answer), but she couldn't get a hold of him either.

I decided to email, to text...to think ESP or rather anything to keep the little engine in some kind of chuga chuga.

Still working, and not mentally reciting cheeky SMS to the BF, I hear my phone.

I've got a text.

It's dirty, it's cheeky, BUT
it's not from my BF.

Instead it's from a friend in the UK, who's been trying to get into my pants for years (to no avail, because--1) I'm always attached when he's offered and 2) He lives in the UK 3.) He's a bit of a player--actually he's pretty darn whorey--can't be safe or smart...)
(I wonder if my little euro friend, doesn't have some kind of hormonal ESP...or maybe he just knows when I'm down...at any rate, he tends to drop the occasional sweet if not inappropriate email and text every now and then.)

Still, I'm thinking, it's gotta count for something that someone's thought enough to send me some harassment, no?

Maybe I can use this little boost of self esteem to work some magic on the BF.

Cut to hours later, way way way later (after my BF's not gotten or returned any of my calls, after my BF decided to eat before seeing me, so I had to dine alone, and after well you get the picture), we're at my BF's sister's house.

She excuses herself to use the phone in her bedroom.

BF is puttering away on his cell phone, playing some game or checking his email (maybe even all the messages I sent him).

I crawl up right next to him on his sister's sofa, tap his shoulder and calmly say, "I want booty."
He shushes me, "In my sister's house? Are you crazy?"
Me, "Noo, we can go home, we can go right now. We'll say we need to do an errand...errand being me"
BF, "I don't think so."
Me, "You never give me any."
BF, "Cause it'll spoil you."

Spoil?

His sister comes back, "Spoil, is something spoiling?'
BF, "No, nothing."
Me, "Nothing exactly."

WTF?

waxing and waning

Life's a Beach

Or is it that other B thing?

While you were out

Believe it or not bloggy, but life had a way of going on even when I wasn't posting it on here with you....
Crazy, right?

Well, what did you miss?

Yeah, I was out of town. Yeah, I went alone, and yeah it's not what I'm going to blog about tonight.

Something else?

Remember "Whoreface?"
Yeah?
Okay, remember how she was engaged and was having an engagement party?
Why am I using the word "was"?

Yep. It's over.

Luckily I didn't buy a gift. Luckier still, I didn't put my foot in my mouth at work...

I've been doing the texting thing with HF now too. Granted it's always work related, but I may have to call her something else. Probably should change her contact name on my phone, huh? :-P

Yeah, I'm doing my best to not be so grumpy about people anymore.
Baby steps GF, baby steps.

Actually, her face doesn't so much look like a whore as much as she looks like Hillary Banks from that old Will Smith show--"Fresh Prince of Bel Air."

On odder but kinda nice(?) news. My BF's sister called me "family."
TWICE.

She even changed clothes in front of me, which I found kind of uh...embarrassing. I'm such a prude.

We're going to go shopping later, and I think I might have volunteered to help her with some moving.

Eeeep, moving...that's what people ask their "Friends" to help them with, no?

Could this be the start of a...(gulp)--> friendship?

To be continued.

H8

Bloggie, so sorry.

I've been out of town.

I've been thinking about you, and were there a way to send you a postcard from my trip (oh right there is)...

Yeah, I'll blog first thing after I unpack, yeah?

There's so much going on though, doubt you missed me much.

See you soon.

Oh and what's going on in Georgia? This 8 business...eassh.

GF in a coma