Saturday is a Rugby Day.

But on Sunday, I feel like Roadkill.

(and I don't mean for dinner)

Champs

Somehow...we are the division champions. An undefeated regualar season, so in the spring we get to travel for playoffs all that fun stuff.

Rugby groupies feel free to reserve your seats on the bus now.

GRRRRRRR!

I should have stayed on the couch!

Well...finally got my ass off the couch...and started doing something. Yesterday was my first rugby practice. I am twice as old as the rest of the team...but I'm also twice as big.....they tremble at my approach....and stand in awe in my wake. My blog, my lies.

Why?

Today.....my friend "H" tried to kill herself with an overdose of pills. She suffers from cancer, an idiot husband, and low self esteem. I sit her, waiting to hear word from her half way across the country, and realize that eventually she will be gone. I want to believe there is something after, some where for her to go..... but I cannot fool myself. I want to believe in a God and a heaven, or re-incarnation, or even ghosts, so that when she is gone, there will be something left of her. But the fact is, when we die, thats it. It's over. There is no white light, no judgement, no reward and punishment. Life would be easier if I could swallow the lie of religion, but damn it..... I cannot delude myself. FUCK!

I'm back

Stonehenge rocked.....no pun intended.

My screwed up tattoo

This is the tattoo they screwed up.....Fuck!

I don't think I can take much more.......I just want it to end.

Well...turns out I am still screwed up.....I don't know what is wrong with me, but this is driving me insane. I will double my dosage in about a week....maybe that will help. As things stand now tho, this is my last entry. Take care.

I think....that things are finally starting to turn around for me. My emotions seem more in control, and I even allowed three drunk idiots to survive the other night at the Shock game (allthough the more I think about it, the more I regret that decision). I am even to the point were I can trust myself around people again. God I so hated feeling like that. To P....thank you for listening..... and to S....thank you for sticking it out, and thank you for your love. I'm not worth it....but I'm glad you did/do.

Break Time

I won't be on blogger again for a while....my life has take an unexpected turn for the worse..... and has become to painful to talk about. Maybe later...when things sort out, I'll try again. Maybe not. A good friend mentioned the other day... that when I say "maybe" it allways means "no". Anyway, wish me luck.

Sometimes I hate myself.

God, I wish I could just learn to keep my fucking mouth shut sometimes. I swear, I could screw up a wet dream. I need to find myself a new job...possibly as a hermit or trapper somewhere where people would be safe from my stupid bullshit. Maybe a lighthouse keeper. Or mortician.... that way everybody is allready depressed before they get to me. Fuck.

I was mean... I was horrible.... I was nasty and terrible.... and we laughed like kindergartners.... I had a wonderful time... and I teased her so bad.... but she has a sparkle when her back is up.... and she fights back... and can easily hold her own. She kicked me, punched me, and even hid cheese in my Jeep. God I love that woman.

I need

I need a rock to hide beneath
I need quiet
I need S

The Ballad of Chasey Lain

Artist:Bloodhound Gang
Album:Hooray For Boobies
Title: The Ballad Of Chasey Lain

Dear Chasey Lain
I wrote to explain
I'm your biggest fan
I just wanted to ask
Could I eat your ass?
Write back as soon as you can

You've had a lotta dick
Had a lotta dick
I've had a lotta time
Had a lotta time
You've had a lotta dick ChaseyBut you ain't had mine

Dear Chasey LainI wrote to complainYa never wrote me backHow could I ever eatYour ass when ya treatYour biggest fan like that?You've had a lotta dickHad a lotta dickI've had a lotta timeHad a lotta timeYou've had a lotta dick ChaseyBut you ain't had mine


Dear Chasey Lain
I wrote to constrain
This letter is my last
As your biggest fan
I must demand
You let me eat your ass

You've had a lotta dick
Had a lotta dick
I've had a lotta time
Had a lotta time
You've had a lotta dick ChaseyBut you ain't had mine

P.S.Mom and Dad this is Chasey,Chasey this is my mom and dad
Now show ‘em them titties
Now show ‘em them titties

P.S.Mom and Dad this is ChaseyChasey this is my mom and dad
Now show ‘em them titties
Now show ‘em them titties

Would ya fuck me for blow?

King Sized

I have been told.... on more than one occasion.... that I remind people of an unmade bed.... Messy, warm, and inviting. That is perhaps the nicest thing anyone ever said to me.

Skills

Napoleon:Well, nobody's gonna go out with me.

Pedro:Have you asked anybody yet?

Napoleon:No, but who would? I don't even have any good skills.

Pedro:What do you mean?

Napoleon:You know, like numchuck skills, bow hunting skills, computer hacking skills. Girls only want boyfriends who have great skills.

Well guess what....
I GOT SKILLS BABY!

"Detachable Penis" by King Missle

I woke up this morning with a bad hangover And my penis was missing again.

This happens all the time. Its detachable.

[background singing begins: "detachable penis" over and over]

This comes in handy a lot of the time.

I can leave it home, when I think its gonna get me in trouble, or I can rent it out, when I dont need it.

But now and then I go to a party, get drunk, and the next morning I cant for the life of me remember what I did with it.

First I looked around my apartment, and I couldnt find it.

So I called up the place where the party was, they hadnt seen it either.

I asked them to check the medicine cabinet cause for some reason I leave it there sometimes but not this time.

So I told them if it pops up to let me know.

I called a few people who were at the party, but they were no help either.

I was starting to get desperate. I really dont like being without my penis for too long.

It makes me feel like less of a man, and I really hate having to sit down every time I take a leak.

After a few hours of searching the house, and calling everyone I could think of, I was starting to get very depressed, so I went to the Kiev, and ate breakfast.

Then, as I walked down Second Avenue towards St. Marks Place, where all those people sell used books and other junk on the street, I saw my penis lying on a blanket next to a broken toaster oven.

Some guy was selling it. I had to buy it off him. He wanted twenty-two bucks, but I talked him down to seventeen.

I took it home, washed it off, and put it back on.

I was happy again.

Complete.

People sometimes tell me I should get it permanently attached, but I dont know.

Even though sometimes its a pain in the ass,

I like having a detachable penis.

Why is the dog getting laid more than me.

I didn't write this I'm afraid....and I know nobody reads this but S and P.....but I wanted to put it on here to share. I dont' know who actually wrote it or I'd give him credit. I just wish I had written it.

Simply put it’s because animals don’t complicate sex with feelings. Animals don’t “go out for a drink or dinner or whatever”. Animals don’t have a “litany of reasons why they have not gotten out in a very long time”. Animals don’t say things like “Please be under 40, single, good looking, professional or at least well read, D/D free, and available Saturday night.” And animals don’t say “YOU HAVE TO SEND ME A PIC!” When an animal is hungry they eat. They don’t care much what they eat. Some dogs will eat themselves sick and will eat poisonous things too. When an animal is thirsty they drink. Again, not too much thought goes into satisfying this need. When an animal is in heat they mate. No talking, no dinner and a movie, no nice car, no nice shoes. They give off a pheromone scent and howl to let others know they’re ready. If you’re truly a good-looking woman, who’s busty, professional, with a big butt, and up for almost anything then the fault is yours alone. I’d do you, and most of my friends would do you too. But being a girl is so very hard. You want to get laid, but you complicate things with history and emotion. If you make him shower and make him wear a condom you have eliminated 95% of the threat to yourself. If you carry a gun or a serrated knife then you’ve cut the remaining threat 5% down to 2%. So there you are, 98% sure he’s safe enough to screw. And statistically speaking, most guys are clean and most guys are safe. Just like most guys’ just want to screw. We like women who like us. If you give it to us we’ll gratefully take it. So what’s stopping you? You’re a girl. You have to talk to him. Have to. Genetic compulsion. If you don’t talk to him then you’d be a guy. Guys don’t talk to the hamburger they eat. If you’re horny then screw. If you’re thirsty then drink. You have to know if he can form sentences like an English teacher, because if he can’t talk then he can’t screw. At least that’s what girls think. You have to know that he has a job, or is looking for a job. You have to know that he lives on his own or he’s had a bad setback and is only living at home recently and temporarily because if he’s not ambitious then he can’t screw. I mean how good could that steak dinner be if the cow was a mamma’s boy and a slacker and couldn’t conjugate Moos to save his life. If he was smart and sensitive, maybe he wouldn’t be on your plate in the first place. No I don’t work for PETA. No I’m not a vegetarian. My point is that women don’t want sex. Why is the dog getting laid more than you? Because the dog wants to get laid. Women don’t want to get laid. If they did, they would. Women want safety and security and comfort and dependability. Women want a shoulder to lean on, a chest to cry on, a lap to sit on, and someone to count on. Women want to cuddle and talk and share secrets. Women want to go out and be out and stay out. Women want to see a great show, have a great meal, and dance at a great club. Women like dressing up and being seen, but when they stay in women like foreplay. Sex is like dessert, but foreplay is the true meal, the reason you came, the entrée, and the most fulfilling part of the dinner. Women can orgasm standing in the supermarket checkout line. They don’t need men for orgasm. They have better toys then men do, trust me. Women don’t want sex. Women want to make a deep quality connection with someone who will listen and respect them until death they do part, except when Patrick Swayze haunted Demi Moore. Even death can’t keep them apart. How romantic is that? Speaking as a man, we’re more like dogs. We can be your best friends and we’re loyal to who feeds us best. We’re trainable, if you take the time to train us, but when it’s time to mate, then mate. Don’t have a headache, and don’t plan a special vacation to Vermont next month. Step up or step back and let some other woman try. I know this is wholly unattractive now, but why would I cheat if you were giving me sex when I wanted it? Everything can’t be blamed on women, but men don’t complicate sex with feelings. We just want to get laid. Just like dogs. Well, I gotta be back to work. I hope this was more educational than funny.

A wonderful time.

I had an awesome weekend.....Mistress S is supposed to be writing out the details. I can't wait to read them.

Finally, tomorrow, a day I have looked forward to for months, is almost here. Tomorrow, S and I will finally get to spend some time together, alone, all night. 70 miles from here is a hotel room waiting for us, with a king size bed and on the water. Tomorrow…at 8:00… I get to pick her up and then off we go. We get to do some exploring…of the country side and each other...and I finally have S all to myself…. if only for a little while. It will be wonderful.

And no...we aren't actually staying at the Holiday Inn Express. LOL

Welcome To My Brain

Guess What's On My Mind

Bonus Day

It was a bonus day. I had not planned on seeing her, but things just somehow worked out. We meet where we always do, and S told me that she wanted to pick up her friend, now our friend, G, and then we could do something together. Cool.

We picked up G, and then went to lunch. They ganged up on me, lots of barbs and comments, and I threw out a few stupid comments so that they would have some ammunition, and I had a blast. After we ate, we went back to G’s apartment, just to hang out…not plan or expectations. When we walked in, I didn’t wait, I didn’t fool around. I grabbed G by the hair, and forced her to her knees. I didn’t ask, I didn’t suggest, I didn’t’ even tell her what to do, I made her do it. She unbuckled my belt and took out my cock and took it in her mouth, and S sat in a chair with her sunglasses on and watched. I pointed at S and crooked my finger at her, and she got up and came to me, and I kissed her deeply and whispered in her ear that I love her. S began to unbutton my shirt and take if off m as G sucked my cock. Heaven.

The redirection of blood flow made me light headed, and I sat on the edge of the bed. S kissed me again, then she took my cock in her mouth…..sometimes I am soooo lucky.

Finally, as they kissed each other, I began to cum. G took me in her mouth again and I came and came, and she got every drop. She turned and kissed S, sharing it with her, and I heard S whisper “thank you.”

If we only had had more time.

Caught With My Pants Down

Bear Lake was beautiful. It was a little cold, and the wind was up, so we had the place to ourselves. Since its winter, the park service still has the gates closed, so we parked up near the road, and walked in. As we walked along the lake, S looked longingly at the Cattails along the edge, and I promised her I would get one for her. I was freezing, since, even though I told her to bring a jacket, all S had was a thin sweater. I couldn’t let her freeze, so I gave her my big thick Carhart to keep her warm.

The far side of the lake was so peaceful and quite. There is a beautiful picnic area, with tables and a pavilion. Off to the side is a playground for smaller children. We walked hand in hand along the edge of lake, telling each other stories about times we had spent there, her with M, me with my dog. S was beautiful there…the cold making her cheeks red and her nipples hard, and I decided that I didn’t want to wait…..I wanted to take her now….right now…hard and rough. I still held her hand, and led her up to the picnic area, and under the pavilion I found a nice, sturdy, clean picnic table.

I took my jacket off her, and laid it on the table, so that S would not have to lie on the boards. I pushed her back on the table, laying her down, and pulled her pants and thong down to her knees. This was not about romance, this was not about making love, this was about rough, animal sex. I dropped my jeans, and holding her legs up on my shoulder, I entered her. I took her hard….I took her long….. and I wish it could have gone on forever. It went on for so long, that I started looking longingly at the next table were I had set my Dr Pepper. I was sooooo thirsty, and it was just out of reach. But I wasn’t about to stop.

With S on the table, and me standing beside it, every thing was perfect. The only problem, with every thrust, I pushed her up the table an inch. S tried to hang on to the edge of the table, but it was rough, and she is just not strong enough to hold on. After every 7 or 8 strokes I would have to stop, and drag her back to the edge, then begin again. The sound of my belt buckle hitting the edge of the table with every thrust reminded me of Christmas bells….but of course, Christmas only comes once a year.

Finally, I admit it, I had to stop…my shoulder was giving out. Some old injuries never really heal, and this was one of them. I was nice, and put her pants and thong back on her, and then, we traded places. S took me in her mouth, and it was wonderful…I lay back on the table, and just enjoyed. Every time I tried to sit up, to see her or look around, S pushed me back. Finally, I came….I came like an explosion, like dynamite, and yeah, I was loud…very loud.

Then things got interesting.

I propped myself up on one elbow to look at S, and over her shoulder….in the playground, maybe 30 yards away, I saw 2 little kids with what looked like their grandmother. Grandpa was marching straight at us with a furious look on his face. Oh Fun!

I jumped up and began pulling on my pants, and whispered to S that someone was there. As I buckled up, the old man screams at my back “GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! THIS IN NOT A PORN SHOP!”

Two thoughts immediately pop into my head, and for once in my life, I leave them there. The first is “Nice language in front of the grandkids Pops!” The second was “What in the hell is a Porn Shop?” Since neither would truly help the situation, I left them unsaid. Too bad, both would have been funny as hell.

As S was pulling on her shoes (I had to pull those off during, because she was leaving a Nike pattern on my forehead) I stepped back to block his view of her. She pulled on her second shoe, and we started walking. As we left, the old man yelled “You are lucky I don’t arrest you right now!” I wanted to point out that I was twice his size, mean as hell…and fight dirty, but decided I should let him win this one. I didn’t say a word, never looked back, but I could hear his footsteps and he followed us a little way. When we got to the trees, I stopped so S could tie her shoes. We were both giggling so hard at that point, I am surprised she didn’t tie them to each other.

About half way back to the car, I stopped. S looked at me, saw the look on my face, and asked me what was wrong. I told her I had to go back; I had forgotten my Dr. Pepper. I thought she was going to hit me, and she told me “No fucking way! Buy another one.” Damn, it was still half full.

As we got to the parking lot, I saw the backside of the sign for the first time. It said:

Bear Lake
Thank you for coming.

I have plans for her, plans to take her places she hasn't been before, to show her that what she thought were her limits...her extremes, are only starting points. She has learned to trust me, and she has had a taste of submission, and we both are longing for a chance to take this further. She has given me gifts I never thought to have, and I hope to do the same for her. I need to finish the story I began...about what will happen when we finally have the chance to spend the time we both need so badly. I love her madly.

BAR GOD

In a booth....in the back....S on one side, her friend on the other side, I was a GOD to the other men in the bar.

Ferdinand the Bull

It seems that S has, perhaps, the largest fingers in the known world. Between her freakishly enormous digits, and someone elses fondness for icecubes, I feel like I have been raped by Ferdinand the Bull. At this rate, these two awesome, incredible women will have me wearing Depends Undergarmets by my next birthday. But, turn about is fair play, so watch out girls!

My new favorite shirt

Ta da!

Save the Kittens.

Remember....everytime you masturbate...God kills a kitten.

(You know who you are.)

A guy dies while making love to his wife. A few days later the undertaker calls her and says, "Your husband still has an erection ma'am, what shall I do with it?"

The wife replies, "Cut it off and shove it up his ass!"

The undertaker does as he is told. On the day of the funeral the wife visits her husband for the last time and sees what appears to be a tear rolling down his face, so she bends over the casket and whispers in his ear,

"It fucking hurts doesn't it!"

Part 2

.....the gift will be for later.

Later, as we lay in bed, I tell her that now, if she is ready, she can wear the gift. The cuffs are a symbol of submission I tell her, and when she puts them on, she belongs to me ….to use as I wish. She may not tell me no, she may not take them off, until I allow it. Although I know that it is not in the nature of S to submit, she is eager to wear them. I am eager too, because I mean to test her resolve.

I begin with an impossible instruction, one that I know she will refuse, because I want her to learn, immediately, what she has agreed to. I send her out to my truck to get my cigars. She begins to get dressed and I stop her. I didn’t tell her to get dressed, I told her to get my cigars. S drops her clothes on the floor, and goes to the door, cracking it to peak outside. I am positive that she will refuse, that she will tell me no, and I look forward to correcting her behavior. She looks back at me, grins, then walks outside into the afternoon sunlight, across the lot to my truck, and back to the room. She does not run or try to cover herself, and I realize that testing her will be harder than I supposed.

S brings me my cigars, and from the smirk on her face, I can see that she believes she has surprised me, scored a point on me. Damn it, but she has.

I tell her to stand in front of me and she quickly does. Close your eyes and turn around, and bend over. She does. I take out a small plug…and lightly lubing the tip…I slowly work the tip into her ass, then roughly push it the rest of the way in, until the thin part is held by her. I tell her to keep it there…not to let it out…not until I allow it. She says she understands....and I tell S to get dressed.

I take her out to a bar…one with a dance floor….and buy us each a drink. She is wearing jeans, which cover the ankle cuffs, but the ones on her wrists are obvious. I take her out on the floor during a slow song…. and hold her close to me…and remind her…not to let the plug slip out…no matter what. As we dance, I see that other men in the bar look at her….and I know what they are thinking. I take her back to our table, and tell her that if anyone in the bar asks her dance….she must.

I walk to the bar and sit down, watching her in the mirror behind the bar. The “leg humpers”, as she calls them, don’t waste any time, and one asks her to dance almost immediately. I watch….making sure he crosses no lines as they dance. I will let no man touch her…no man have her….I do not share. But she is safe in this bar….no one will cross me. I am too damn scary looking.

Finally, after she has danced with several men….I claim what is mine. The looks they give me are comical….I could crush them like bugs. I bend over to kiss her…and reach down to squeeze her ass…and I feel the plug is still in place…. S has done well.

I take S back to our room and lead her inside….and tell her to undress for me. She does and I watch…and I can see it excites her…me watching. As she bend over to step out of her jeans…she drops the plug….finally….and looks up at me in apprehension. Neither of us says a word…..and as she finishes undressing, I stand….and pull off my belt.

I point at the bed….and without either of us saying a word…. S kneels beside it and bends over. I lay my belt gently on her oh-so-white ass…and imagine the stripes it will soon have. I ask her is she understands why I am doing this….and she says yes.

I am too big….and too strong….so I am careful not to hurt her. I do not hit her hard…or too many times…..but I do leave my mark on her…..and she will not soon forget. Next time she will be more careful.

I reach down and grab her by the hair and throw her, face down onto the bed. I am on top of her before she can move, and pin her to the bed. I reach down and grab the second part of the gift. Four bright red ropes, each with a snap spliced onto the end. I have spent hours splicing the ropes for a professional look. I hate half assed work. I snap a rope onto each of her wrists, and flip her over onto her back. I run the end of the rope thru the D rings on her ankles, and pull them tight. She in now trapped, with her legs and hands straight in the air. I hold the ends of the ropes, one in each fist, and pull them down and out, spreading her legs for me. She tries to struggle briefly, but quickly realizes there is no point. I am hard again, throbbing again, and as my cock enters her, I look into her eyes, and see a smile on her face. I stop, with my cock barely inside her….and when I feel her rise up to me…I slam it inside her…as hard as I can….moving her up the bed a foot with the thrust. Her eyes open wide with surprise, her mouth also. I stop….and look at her….and slowly move my cock in and out….she is so wet now….so slick….that I know she is ready….

I pull my cock out slowly…and moving it slightly….press the tip against her ass….I still have the ropes….one in each fist….and I pull hard…spreading her legs even wider…and I push my cock into her tight….tight ass. I see a look of pain….of apprehension on her face….in her eyes….but I slowly push deeper and deeper….until everything I have is buried deep, deep inside her. I can see it hurts her…so I stop….inside her….rocking slightly…..and whisper to her “Relax”.

I wait…..and eventually I feel the muscles relax slightly….and I slowly pull out….not all the way….but almost. Looking in her eyes…I slowly bury my cock in her ass again…and watching her eyes…I see that she is almost ready for me to really take it. I move a bit faster....and I see that she is starting to relax….and then….I pause…..pull the ropes tighter still…look deep into those beautiful green eyes…and I drive my cock as hard and as fast and as deep into her ass as I can….over and over and over…it hurts her I know….but it also pleases her….and I fuck her ass as hard as I can….and as long as I can….and she screams for me when she cums…my cock buried deep in her ass….and finally I let go of the ropes…..and grab her by the hair…and staring into her eyes…I kiss her as I cum in her ass……

I grab her by the hair....and pull her into the bathroom and order her to bathe me….to clean me. As she rinses away the soap from my cock….I think of how lucky I am to have S….and what I am going to do to her next. I still have two more ropes I haven’t used….. and a bag of toys she hasn’t seen.

I woke this morning
as always
with S on my mind
the scent of her hair
the touch of her nails on my chest
the way she tastes
but mostly
the way she looks at me.
I am lost in those green, green eyes.

There was much about me that she didn’t know, things inside me that I had kept hidden from her, things I had not wanted to share. We had been lovers for many months, but I had not allowed her so see the darker part of me, the part that sometimes I am afraid to expose. This woman had broken through the wall I have always kept around my heart, and now, finally, I needed for her to see all of me. The risk was great, but the rewards....

I arraigned to get away for the weekend, and we drove to a place that was special for her, that meant a lot to her. All the way there she was excited, happy at the thought that we would finally spend the night together, finally sleep in each others arms, finally wake up together. We checked in, and I carried our bags to the room as she walked before me. She was in a playful mood (but then she always is) and kept turning to me, pinching or grabbing at me. The feeling that this woman would love me, would be here with me, fills me with pride…..and lust... I wanted to take her then, in the hall….take her and take her and never stop, but I didn’t. Not then.

We walked into the room, and she turned to me and put her arms around me, trying to kiss me. I grabbed her wrists and stoppd her…..holding her arms out to the side. She is a wild cat at times ( 24/7) and tried to break free, but I held her. I told her I had a gift for her first, and she lit up, the delight in her face was obvious. I know her, and I know that the delight was not at the idea of a present, but because I had made the gesture. I released her wrists, kissed her lightly on the forehead, and walked to my bag.

The box was wrapped in red foil, with a black bow and ribbon. I could see that it had the effect I had hoped for, and was glad I spent the time searching for the paper. She opened it, reluctant to tear the paper, and opened the box inside. Inside she saw my gift for her, a set of 4 black leather cuffs. The grin on her face was huge, and I saw the wheels turning inside her head. She made a joke about whether they would fit me, and we both laughed. I looked at her, and she could see that I had something serious to say, and she tried to stop giggling. How can anyone look at her and not love her.

I told her that these were for her, but that they came with a price. She may only wear them for me, and no one else. Not for her husband or any one else. She told me that she would not do that anyway, and I held up a finger to her lips to stop her. There is more, I told her. When you wear these, you belong to me, body and soul. When you put these on for me, you are submitting to my will. We are equals, we are partners, we are combatants at times, but everything changes, when you put these on. These are a symbol of your submission to me.

She is a strong woman, perhaps the strongest I have ever known, and submission, true submission, is not in her nature; if it were, I would not have wanted her. She is my equal in most ways, superior in some, and the relationship we have is amazing. She is anxious to put on the cuffs for me, to show me that she is ready, but I stop her. This is not the time.

Right now, I want her, I want to take her, I want hot wild monkey sex, I want the manager of the bowling alley next door to complain about the noise, I want the kind of sex that violates zoning ordinances. I want to feel her nails on my back…her teeth on my nipples….I want to see those green eyes lose focus when she cums…the gift is for later. (To be continued)

Goats and Matresses

Once upon a time I had the unique opportunity to serve the cause of freedom and democracy while working on my tan and making an obscene amount of money. In 1994 I was selected by the U.S. Department of Justice to train Haitian refugees at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. The Clinton Administration had conceived of the brilliant plan that if we (the United States) were to train the cream of the refugee crop in modern police methods, we would have a manpower pool for staffing the new department that President Aristide would need in his new, free, democracy. Unfortunately, no one in a position of power did any research into the levels of education or sophistication of our would-be guardians of the public trust, and the results, while humorous, were predictable.

I was teaching a class of about 30 refugees the basic Rights and Laws of Arrest under Napoleonic Law. Since no one has had Rights in Haiti in decades, qualifying as an expert in the field required me to read the course handouts five minutes before class. I was explaining to them the process for taking a newly arrested prisoner before a Judge prior to booking, when one of the students at the rear of the class raised his hand with a question. Since I do not speak Creole, and very few of the refugees spoke English, the classes were taught with the aid of interpreters. As the student asked his question, I saw from the reaction of the rest of the class that they thought it was good question, and they all turned to me, eager for what ever pearls of wisdom I cast before them. I turned to my interpreter, and saw the grin on his face, and knew I had an interesting question headed my way.
“What do you do if you arrest a man, but on the way to jail, he turns into a goat?” I looked at my interpreter, and he nodded, yes, they were serious. So, being a no nonsense kind of guy, I decided, right there, to clear up their funny ideas about magic. I looked at the class, and saw that they were on the edge of their seats, waiting for my response to this everyday Haitian occurrence. I said “First of all, it is impossible for a man to turn into a goat. It cannot happen.” There, I thought, problem solved.

Suddenly the class was in an uproar. Maybe it didn’t happen in America, but in Haiti, this was a common problem, and obviously needed a better answer than I had given. “How many of you actually believe that a man can turn into a goat?” I asked, expecting 3 or 4 students to raise their hands. Every hand in the classroom shot up, and on every face an expression of earnestness. I dropped my head in defeat.

An inspiration! “How many of you have actually, with your own eyes, seen a man turn himself into a goat?” Now I had the right approach, I thought. They may believe, but none of them have every actually witnessed this impossible event. Logic will prevail. Half of the hands in the room were raised, and again I hung my head. I decided to end this line of argument and move on, so I told them “Take the goat to jail.” To me, this was an admission of defeat in the face of adversity, but the class was awestruck. I could tell from their faces that this was not an idea that had occurred to them. No wonder I was the teacher and they mere students. I was an oracle from America, and must know everything. I left the class with the respect and admiration of my students, and the knowledge that I was leaving the field of battle in disgrace.

Word of my genius spread throughout the compound of approximately 700 refuges, and after that it became common for problems involving magic and voodoo to be brought to me. I suspect that my fellow instructors had a hand in that, but was never able to prove it. One day, while instructing a class on Jail Operations, I saw a timid hand raised at the back of class. I pointed out a student, who stood up and asked a simple question. “What do you do when a prisoner escapes from jail?” At last, a question with a firm foot on the ground. “When a prisoner escapes from jail, you hunt him down like the dog that he is, arrest him, and throw his ass back in jail.” Now there was a question that had been answered, and would stay answered. In fact, I thought, I answered the hell out of that question. Apparently the class agreed, because I saw looks of admiration on their faces as they furiously wrote their notes.

To the left of the class I spotted another hand, and called on a young woman to hear her question. “What do you do if he escapes again?” Well, I thought indulgently, I can’t expect them to make the logical jump that, say, An American would, so I responded “I would hunt him down like the dog that he is, arrest him, and throw his ass back in jail, again.” Somehow, the second time, my great answer didn’t have the same impact on me. The class, however, was amazed at my ability to cut straight to the meat of the problem and unerringly come to the answer that, on reflection, should have been so obvious. When the scratching of pencils ceased, a sea of hands appeared with more questions.

I selected a quiet man at the front of the class, and he stood to ask his question. His face showed his puzzlement as he spoke. I don’t speak Creole, or French, but with enough repetition even I can learn at times. I looked around the class, and realized that we could be asking and answering this same question until dawn the next day if I allowed it. They seemed to be expecting, after the umpteenth escape that something might change. I realized I need to stop this and regain control fast.

“I left something out” I told the class. “The first time the prisoner escaped, I would, of course, hunt him down like the dog that he is, and throw his ass back in jail, but I would also find out how he escaped, so that I could make sure no one was ever able to escape that way again.” There, I thought, that should cover it. “How did he escape?” After a rather lengthy exchange between the class and the interpreter, I was told that a witchdoctor, in jail, would cut open and take apart his mattress. With the string used to bind the straw, he would tie a knot around his big toe, and would become invisible. The prisoner could then simply walk out unobserved.
Oh God, not again, I thought. Having been through this before, I had my responses down pat. “Look” I said, “it is impossible for a man to turn invisible simply because he has tied a string around his toe. However” I added, “if this should become a problem in MY jail, I would simply remove the straw mattresses and replace them with foam rubber ones.” The class erupted in celebration. Here, finally, was an American who understood the problems of magic in Haiti and was a match for the evil witchdoctors that plagued them. Haitians being Haitians, they immediately broke into song.

Before the end of the day, news of my answer spread through the camp, building on my reputation as a man of genius. Throughout the camp, new songs of my daring and exploits in the face of evil shamen grew. The resident witchdoctors in the camp felt threatened by my growing reputation, and I had to arrange a peace conference after being informed that voodoo dolls bearing a striking resemblance to me had been found in the port-a-potty.

They say that due to the comedic brilliance of Jerry Lewis, he is considered a genius in France. I am happy knowing that somewhere in the interior of Haiti on the island of Hispaniola, villagers are still singing about the pale American who challenged the dark magic of the witchdoctors. That’s right; I am a genius in Haiti.

Seeing her broken hearted

She is everything to me....and I want to be everything I can for her.... but the phone rings, bringing her heartache and pain that I am powerless to take away. I feel helpless knowing I cannot fix this for her, furious that someone would hurt her this way, insignificant that I cannot make the pain go away. By nature I take care of things.....I control things..... I protect things.... but I can't do any of this for her. Not this time....and actually...not ever. She would resent that type of control, and I don't need to control her to possess her. She knows I am here for her…..that I still have one good shoulder to cry on.....

Paradise

Meatloaf

Paradise by the Dashboard Lights

Boy:I remember every little thingAs if it happened only yesterdayParking by the lakeAnd there was not another car in sightAnd I never had a girlLooking any better than you didAnd all the kids at schoolThey were wishing they were me that night
And now our bodies are oh so close and tightIt never felt so good, it never felt so rightAnd we're glowing like the metal on the edge of a knifeC'mon! Hold on tight!C'mon! Hold on tight!
Though it's cold and lonely in the deep dark nightI can see paradise by the dashboard light
Girl:Ain't no doubt about itWe were doubly blessedCause we were barely seventeenAnd we were barely dressed
Ain't no doubt about itBaby got to go and shout itAin't no doubt about itWe were doubly blessed
Boy:Cause we were barely seventeenAnd we were barely dressed
Baby doncha hear my heartYou got it drowning out the radioI've been waiting so longFor you to come along and have some fun
And I gotta let ya knowNo you're never gonna regret itSo open up your eyes I got a big surpriseIt'll feel all rightWell I wanna make your motor run
And now our bodies are oh so close and tightIt never felt so good, it never felt so rightAnd we're glowing like the metal on the edge of a knifeC'mon! Hold on tight!C'mon! Hold on tight!
Though it's cold and lonley in the deep dark nightI can see paradise by the dashboard lightParadise by the dashboard light
You got to do what you canAnd let Mother Nature do the restAin't no doubt about itWe were doubly blessedCause we were barely seventeenAnd we were barely--
We're gonna go all the way tonightWe're gonna go allt he wayAn tonight's the night...
Radio Broadcast:Ok, here we go, we got a real pressure cookergoing here, two down, nobody on, no score,bottom of the ninth, there's the wind-up andthere it is, a line shot up the middle, lookat him go. This boy can really fly!He's rounding first and really turning it onnow, he's not letting up at all, he's gonnatry for second; the ball is bobbled out in center,and here comes the throw, and what a throw!He's gonna slide in head first, here he comes, he's out!No, wait, safe--safe at second base, this kid reallymakes things happen out there.Batter steps up to the plate, here's the pitch--he's going, and what a jump he's got, he's tryingfor third, here's the throw, it's in the dirt--safe at third! Holy cow, stolen base!He's taking a pretty big lead out there, almostdaring him to try and pick him off. The pitcherglance over, winds up, and it's bunted, bunteddown the third base line, the suicide squeeze in on!Here he comes, squeeze play, it's gonna be close,here's the throw, there's the play at the plate,holy cow, I think he's gonna make it!
II. Let Me Sleep On It
Girl:Stop right there!I gotta know right now!Before we go any further--!
Do you love me?Will you love me forever?Do you need me?Will you never leave me?Will you make me so happy for the rest of my life?Will you take me away and will you make me your wife?Do you love me!?Will you love me forever!?Do you need me!?Will you never leave me!?Will you make me so happy for the rest of my life!?Will you take me away and will you make me your wife!?I gotta know right nowBefore we go any furtherDo you love me!!!?Will you love me forever!!!?
Boy:Let me sleep on itBaby, baby let me sleep on itLet me sleep on itAnd I'll give you my answer in the morning
Let me sleep on itBaby, baby let me sleep on itLet me sleep on itAnd I'll give you my answer in the morning
Let me sleep on itBaby, baby let me sleep on itLet me sleep on itAnd I'll give you my answer in the morning
Girl:I gotta know right now!Do you love me?Will you love me forever?Do you need me?Will you never leave me?Will you make me so happy for the rest of my life?Will you take me away and will you make me your wife?I gotta know right now!Before we go any furtherDo you love me?And will you love me forever?
Boy:Let me sleep on itBaby, baby let me sleep on itLet me sleep on itAnd I'll give you my answer in the morningLet me sleep on it!!!
Girl:Will you love me forever?
Boy:Let me sleep on it!!!
Girl:Will you love me forever!!!
III. Praying for the End of Time
Boy:I couldn't take it any longerLord I was crazedAnd when the feeling came upon meLike a tidal waveI started swearing to my god and on my mother's graveThat I would love you to the end of timeI swore that I would love you to the end of time!
So now I'm praying for the end of timeTo hurry up and arriveCause if I gotta spend another minute with youI don't think that I can really surviveI'll never break my promise or forget my vowBut God only knows what I can do right nowI'm praying for the end of timeIt's all that I can doPraying for the end of time, so I can end my time with you!!!
Boy:It was long ago and it was far awayand it was so much better than it is today
Girl:It never felt so goodIt never felt so rightAnd we were glowing likeA metal on the edge of a knife

pleasure and pain

I still carry the wounds from our last encounter.....fingernails digging deep into my hand as I held her down...and took her..... my blood running down my hand...mixing with our sweat ...and other things. As I sit in class...I look at the half moon scars on the web of my hand...and am reminded of the look in those beautiful green eyes as she looses control. I love her so.

Mistress S

Laying before the fire on the floor on her red bedspread..... a can of whip cream....sparks in my hair because I left the screen open...the look in her eyes when she peaks... the way her hand feels on my chest.... the sound of mine on her ass...but mostly...the way she looks at me, and the way that makes me feel, these are the thoughts that keep my awake at night.

I don't deserve her... she deserves better than me.... but I am selfish... and will hang on as long as I can. My heart breaks to be away from her. She has the eyes of a goddess....and I am lost.

This is her...she is amazing. I am a lucky man

Cheap Trick

Big Eyes

It's not the way you look, no.

It's not the way you walk.

Your eyes are so very good.

You know they're clear and bright,

It's not the color of your hair.

Big eyesI keep fallin' for those big eyes.

They keep calling my name, big eyes.

I keep fallin' for those big eyes.

They keep calling my name.

You're such a losing cause.

Why don't you go get lost?

Who says you write the laws?

You're such a losing cause,Go on and get out of here.

Big eyesI keep fallin' for those big eyes.

They keep calling my name.

You're such a losing cause.
Why don't you go get lost?

Who says you write the laws?

You're such a losing cause,Go on and get out of here.

It's not the way you look, no.

It's not the way you walk.

Your eyes are so very good.

You know they're clear and bright,

It's not the color of your hair.

Big eyesI keep fallin' for those big eyes

Today is the first day of the rest of my life...and I over slept.

I have found someone that makes me happy, that makes me feel like a man, and that I love with all my heart. This is for you S.