Team Jon, Part 2

This train wreck called Jon & Kate Plus 8 is screwing with my mind. I'm relating their collapsing marriage to my own disfunctional situation too much.

I was talking to Mrs. SCM on the phone this week. I was describing a situation that was causing me stress. Her immediate reflexive comment was that it was basically my fault. The thought that went through my head was:

"Yeah. Thanks, Kate, for pointint that out."

I watched a little bit of the show this week. I could only take ten minutes of Kate sniping at Jon because he wasn't preparing the food the right way for her. Belittling him to their guest. "Well, Jon's not really capable of...". I got up and walked out.

Ladies, you should make this a teachable moment. Give some thought to how you talk to your guy. Do you, as Kate does, communicate to him relentlessly that he doesn't do it right or meet your expectations?

If you do, then - how should I put this delicately - WAKE THE FUCK UP!

Two-Wheel Fever

I wish I had a motorcycle.

I wish I had a woman who wanted to ride behind me on a motorcycle.

I don't have either.

Damn.

They're everywhere, this time of year. Taunting me. Tempting me.

I haven't ridden in years. More than a decade. But I haven't forgotten.

I will have a bike again. Soon.

I can dream until then...

At the Movies

Laughter. It's good for the soul.

And I got a lot of it at the theater watching "The Hangover". Laugh-out-loud funny. A touch raunchy. A lot crazy. Very funny. I haven't heard that much laughter in a theater for a film in a while.

Which gives me a chance to observe this: Heather Graham has still got it! This girl is fun and sexy. A great combination. Killer smile. Killer bod. She exudes life! I could watch her movies any day - especially, however, the ones where she's grinding on a stripper pole in a bikini - in the closing credits anyway. Jade is a memorable character.

Next on my list at the movies: The Taking of Pelham 123.

I distinctly remember the original movie. IT was the first time, in my memory anyway, that I saw a movie made out of a book that I had read. The remake looks pretty good.

In the meantime, I need to find some more pics of Heather Graham to download...

I'm with Jon

Okay, I got suckered in. I watched the season premiere episode of Jon and Kate Plus Eight on TLC on Memorial Day. My bad.

Yes, I've seen a few minutes here and there last year. Mrs. SCM watches the program. She wanted me to watch with her now. Bad idea, I thought. This is a no-win situation for me. I'm going to root for Jon against Kate-zilla and get myself in trouble. But, I pressed on foolishly and watched it.

Watching the episode totally reminded me of the niche on CraigsList called "Cuckolds". These are couples with a dominant "hotwife" and a submissive male who thrives on getting humiliated. Not for me, but to each his own I guess. It's not enough for the cuckold to just get cheated on. Oh no. The cuck gets off on setting up his humiliation. On arranging dates for his hotwife with "bulls", who come over to please the hotwife in all of the ways that the cuckold cannot.

Kate is the hotwife. Jon is the cuckold, participating in his own humiliation. The show is the bull, providing for Kate what Jon can't.

It could play out, whatever, if there weren't kids involved. But, there are. And this is going to end badly.

What were they thinking, going on TV? Kate, in the midst of her martyr rant, observed that parents of multiples have a divorce rate triple the population and that she had thought that they would beat it. Wrong statistic to focus on. How about this one: 100% of married couples on reality TV get divorced. Beat that.

Am I going to watch episode two tonight. Probably. But, I'm rooting for Jon to escape.

Soft Country Porn

I have this thing now for country music. Ever since I made a recent excursion to Music City and the Grand Ole Opry.

So, not only do I have two country music channels on my presets in the car now, but I regularly stop by the Great American Country channel on cable. They actually still play music videos. Country music videos.


Some of which, as it turns out, are startlingly close to soft core porn. Not the booty shaking grind porn like the hip-hop videos. No. These are the cute blonde role-playing in outfits (cheerleader, nurse, name-your-hot-stereotype)videos.

Yes, I'm talking about Taylor Swift, and her "you belong with me" or whatever it's called. Even cuter is her hot brunette doppelganger.

Yes, I'm talking about Carrie Underwood and her "american girl" video. Wow.

Yes Yes, I'm talking about Kellie Pickler's "best days" video, featuring Taylor Swift. Two hot blondes, smiling and singing.

Wow. Makes a nearly-half-century-old-gezer-dude's heart beat fast. I know. I'm a perv. A country-vixen-loving perv.

Semi-Random Thoughts

- Snowblowers! I am waking up this morning to the sound of snowblowers in my neighborhood. Will I ever be warm again? Will this cursed March ever end? Where is this mythical Global Warming when you need it.

- I say waking up. I mean waking up for the tenth time. I am sleeping horribly lately - getting up many times every night. It's dispruptive, and it wears on you. It's like an old joke that I heard long ago: Did you sleep good? No, I made a few mistakes.

- I wish that I could have all or most of the last nine days back. I had some time off of work, not at my choice. I had plans. I always have plans. I got none of them accomplished. There are few things more soul-crushing than having time off and doing absolutely nothing. I even passed on my favorite pastime - golfing. I had the time. I had the money. But, I'm having significant amount of chest pain lately and I was afraid that I would keel over on the back nine. Seriously. That wouldn't be good.

- If I knew in advance that I wasn't going to do anything for nine days, I would have done nothing differently. I would have cashed in a free roundtrip ticket in my account and gone somewhere in the country to do some photography. I miss flying into a town and capturing it digitally in the evenings. I really miss that.

- I did do some semi-naked housecleaning on the one warm day that we had. See picture.

- I wish I had a sex life. Well, one that involved another person anyway. I'm trying, really, to reconnect with Mrs. SCM. I made a point during my week of nothingness to try to "date" Mrs. SCM in some way. I had her meet me for lunch during her work day. Picked a nice restaurant. Ordered for her, her favorite choices off the menu - had it on the table waiting for her. Nothing. She couldn't get her head out of work and it was a long awkward lunch where she ate nothing. I tried. I think it's time to find her a boyfriend and then find other solutions myself.

- Sitting behind the glass at a semi-pro hockey game, with my boys, is awesome! When the players crash into the boards right in front of you is a rush.

- I live in a river town. The water is way, way, way up - and rising. It's going to be a wet spring.

- The War on Terror has come to my hometown. I can't tell you how, without giving up my location (which a few of you, but not all, know). Let's just say that I am not happy with Barry's administration for doing this to us.

- Here's a news story that you should give some thought to: handgun ammunition is sold out around the country. Don't believe me? Go to Walmart today and try to buy your favorite caliber of handgun ammo. I tried last night, after reading a story on my favorite political website about shortages and ammo manufacturers working 24/7. I wanted some 9mm for some time on a gun range that I have a membership in. No go. Empty shelf. I could buy one box of .22 LR (550 rounds). I could buy some shotgun shells. I was limited to two boxes of .762X39 for a rifle. No go on the 9mm. Never had that happen before. So, what are the social implications of all of the handgun ammo in America being sold out? Think about that, and get back to me.

- Devyn, from The Real World - Brooklyn, is without doubt the hottest real woman on TV. She does it for me, is all I'm sayin'.

Semi-back

So, I saw a quote projected at a meeting today. It went something like this:

"Anybody can quit. Quitting is the easiest thing in the world to do. Keeping it together when everyone around you would understand if you fell takes courage."

Ouch. By that standard, Mrs. SCM has plenty of courage. Me, not so much lately.

It's been a long slog back from the deep deep deep funk of the holidays. Getting there though. Plus, almost 1000 people got layoff notices in my plant yesterday. I didn't know there were still 1000 people still here. I'm okay for the moment. But, it's a little stressful. I've taken on so many hats that I'm a walking hat rack.

When I'm not working I'm either couch-potato-ing or commenting on a science thread on another blog that I've become addicted to.

Since I have no semi-erotic stories to tell lately, I'll just ask this question:

Is Julianne Hough on "Dancing With the Stars" mega-watt-hawt or what? Melissa, right behind her.

Also, I'm rooting for Danny Gokey on American Idol.

Wow. Way to much TV lately.

How is everybody?

Back from Laptop Hell

Hello sexy people! I'm back online.

The sad state of my laptop has frustrated me greatly in the last two months or so, and effectively taken me out of blogging recently. It was just too difficult to get online.

First it was a virus. A particularly malicious thing that took over in the background and made it progressively harder to do anything productive. It damaged my Windows operating system so severely that it would take me several attempts and more than an hour to just boot up to read one email. (An hour that I spent wishing painful torture on virus writers.) It got so frustrating that I almost gave up.

Then my built-in wireless card died. Just died. So, I ponied up and bought an external wireless PCMCIA card. It helped, but not enough. It dropped the connection constantly!

I got frustrated, and then gave up.

Giving up was actually liberating, and ultimately solved my problem. I knew I had important files backed up, so I just went for it. Risky as it seemed, I formatted my hard drive to kill everything dead. Then I reinstalled everything, starting with Windows. Finally, I trashed my new wireless card and bought a better one. Viola! I have my laptop back. It boots quickly, has lots of open memory, and connects solidly to the internet. Heaven.

I guess there's a lesson there generally about being willing to risk everything to gain. Or something profound like that.

I'm back.

Pacing the Cage, with Strip Club Flashbacks

"The days drift by, they don't have names...." Jimmy Buffett

"What would you do if you were stuck in a place, and every day was the same, and nothing that you did mattered?" Phil (Bill Murray) - "Groundhog Day"

Question: Is 48 years old too young to be just waiting to die? Yeah, I thought so.

While I'm waiting, I'm watching a lot of junk TV. These days that mostly means VH-1, and the junkiest is Brett Michael's "Rock of Love Bus". Bus loads of skanky girls on tour!

Brett's bus seems to have a propensity toward pulling into strip clubs after his shows. And, for two episodes in a row, they seem to be strip clubs that I have been to.

First was the world famous "Big Al's" in Peoria, IL. Yep, been there. It's a nice club, high end, with some gorgeous dancers. I wrote about one evening there on my original blog "DanceFan: on Strippers and LIfe". Go read about it here.

This week it looks like he's stopping at the Hustler club in St. Louis. (Actually across the river in Illinois). I had a wild night there,in the company of a famous porn starlett feature dancer (Jenna Haze) and another drop in rock star that night. Go read about that night here. It's a good read. Ask me in the comments, and I'll tell you who the rock star was.

Next post, I'll tell you a good story about my last time in a strip club.

Now, back to pacing the cage...

Frigid

I'm really really tired of the cold, and the incessant snow, this year. It's frigid.

Speaking of frigid, I apparently am at the moment. Obsessing about sex, but not having any. Ouch. I have a willing partner, but the dynamics are just f'd up at the moment.

I'm so cold...

But, I'm Not Dead Yet

I hate that my blog has become a decidedly unsexy whinefest about my traumatic life. Of course, I hate that my life has become unsexy and traumatic - and the blog reflects my life. It is what it is.

I'm reduced at the moment to deriving any sexual arousal in my life from tripe like "A Double Shot of Love" on MTV.

Bisexual.Twin.Barbies.

Um, yeah. Works for me. Does anyone think that they will find love on this show? Or at they really can't decide until the end of the show whether they want to end up with a straight guy or a lesbian chick? Can it be any more ironic that they are called the "Ikki Twins"? (Vikki and Rikki) None of that matters.

Bisexual.Twin.Barbies. Yikes!

I needed something tonight to pull myself out of my funk. So, I took myself on a date to a musical. "Spamalot" - based on Monty Python's "The Holy Grail", which I watched several times in the late 70' and could quote by heart. I laughed my ass off, which I definitely needed. Which reminded me:

It's just a flesh wound. I'm not dead yet.

Escaping thru Hollywood

"We all need a little tenderness.
How can love survive in this graceless age?"
Don Henley/Eagles - "The Heart of the Matter"

Good question. I got nuthin'. I think it's about forgiveness, but I don't have it in me right now.

I've been taking a time out from trauma for a week or so. Haven't really spoken to anyone other than at work.

I'm living on the couch in the basement. Sleeping there. Watching a lot of movies.

So, having nothing to say, here's a list of my Top 10 movies that I would rent if I walked in a video store and then hid out for a week - in no particular order.

- Shakespeare in Love
- Groundhog Day
- Lost in Translation
- Underworld
- Tin Cup
- Slapshot
- Phenomenon
- Joe Dirt
- Payback
- Charlie's Angels and/or Mr. & Mrs. Smith (for a little T&A).

I've seen most of them in the last two weeks. I may watch them again today...

Les Miz Therapy

"My soul belongs to God, I know
I made that bargain long ago
He gave me hope when hope was gone
He gave me strength to carry on"

"Who am I", Les Miserables

Let me just say that I love the musical Les Miserables. Love it. I can sing all of the songs. I've seen it several times and would pay to see it again in a heartbeat. What a deep, rich, inspiring storyline.

When I'm in a deep funk I put it on and listen and sing. It helps. Therapeutically.

I'm not sure if it's enough to pull me out of my current funk, but I'm trying it again. Sing it with me....Who am I? I'm Jean val Jean. When I think of my sons, I sing the hauntingly beautiful "Bring Him Home."

I think I'm working it out in my vivid dreams this week.

- one where I'm getting a divorce
- one very hot sex dream
- one weird but great dream where I was somewhere in Europe selling a motorcycle to get on a cruise ship

Last night was my classic stress dream - where I'm back in college. I have that one a lot. This one had a twist though. I was my current age, taking a business class. I had a low tolerance for the immature college age kids, and their unseriousness. Same for the young lady teaching the course. So, I did my own thing. She got in my face for tuning out and not paying attention, and I took none of it and got back in her face. Just a dream.

Now, back to Les Miserables and the barricades!

House of Trauma

Okay, I’ve been practicing a self-preservation form of self-deception on here lately it seems.

I’ve been telling myself that the major depressions that I’ve had in December were due to a hatred of the “holidays”. True enough. But, it’s not about what the holidays are. It’s about what the holidays do: force you to spend time with your family 24/7. That’s a problem, being with my family means exposing myself to trauma on a daily basis. That’s depressing.

The trauma of realizing that my wife of 25 years and I have virtually nothing in common and that there’s no chance of fixing that, for one. But that's for another day.

The trauma of our children’s awful and dangerous behavior for another.

I know that everyone has problems with their kids. I know that. I’m not trying to whine or be special. But really, our two boys seem to have a higher level of insanity than most people, hopefully, ever experience and no one sees that side of them but Mrs. SCM and I. We keep it contained in the house. The House of Trauma.

The House of Trauma – a Play in Three Acts:

Scene: interior of a house in the early morning.

- Teen (15 years old), after a two-day binge of house-destroying and parent-defying insanity, wakes up early and begins playing a video game on the family computer in the kitchen.
- Junior (9 years old), after a relatively quiet week, wakes up cranky and feisty and pulls up a chair unnervingly close to Teen.
- Dad, already up and quietly reading on the couch.
- Mom, waking and prepping in the bathroom.

Teen: “Dad, would you tell Junior to get away from me. He’s bothering me.”

Dad: “Junior, get away from Teen and stop bothering him, like you don’t want to be bothered when you’re playing.”

Junior: “Shut up, Dad.”

Dad: “Junior, get up out of your chair and walk away right now.”

Junior: “I said shut up, bitch.”

Dad: “Junior, you cannot talk to your parents that way. You are harming our family with your behavior. Stop it. Get up now and go back to your room”.

Junior (loudly and hysterical): “You stop it, Dad. You’re the one harming our family. Everytime you open your mouth you cause trouble. You stop it. Why don’t you leave you bitch.”

Action: Teen and Junior start aggressively punching each other, with intent to harm.

Dad (bellowing): “GET AWAY FROM EACH OTHER, NOW!!!!!!”

Mom (entering the kitchen hurriedly from the bathroom): “I’m coming, I’m coming! What is going on in here.”

Dad: “Junior is acting up and needs to leave the room now.”

Junior: “You’re acting up, Dad. You need to stop it.”

Action: Junior begins throwing objects at Dad. A shoe. A pencil. A plate. Dad restrains himself, knowing from past experience that if he even touches Junior to remove him to his room it will escalate into an hour-long fit of screaming “You’r eabusing me!” Mom steps between Junior and Dad.

Mom: “Junior, you stop this now! Get on the time out chair.”

Dad (getting in Junior’s face): “You heard her. Close your mouth and get over on that chair.”

Mom (turning on Dad): “WOULD EVERYONE PLEASE JUST STOP?”

Action: Junior screams at mom “Asshole!” and starts physically assaulting her.

Mom: “Stop it now!”

Action: Mom sits on Junior and puts him in a physical restraint taught to us by DCFS during our Foster Parent training. Junior thrashes in her grasp, trying to kick and bite her. Dad keeps hands-off.

Junior: “Let me go or I will kill you, you fucking bitch!”

Dad: “You say that again and I will call the police”

Junior: “I’ll kill you too Dad, you bitch asshole.”

Action: Mom restrains Junior for 30 minutes, enduring invective and assault until Junior finally wears out and stops.

Mom: “Now, get on the time-out chair.”

Dad: “I want him out of this house for the day. He can’t win and be rewarded for this behavior.”

Mom: “How is he being rewarded? He’s going to time-out, and he won’t get on the computer.”

Dad: “He leaves the house or I leave the house.”

Mom: “How does running away make any sense?”

Act II

Action: Dad takes Teen and leaves the house for hours. Hours. Almost checks into a hotel, but instead wanders around town with his phone off.

Dad eventually arrives back home.

Junior meets Dad at the door with a long apology note and a remorseful sad look on his face.

Dad: “I don’t care. Get away from me.”

Action: Dad retreats to the basement for the rest of the day, speaking to no one.

Act III

??????????????????????? What new trauma awaits today?

I Got Your Crazy...

"you say I'm crazy, I got your crazy" - Britney Spears, "Womanizer"

Wow, it's been quite a roller coaster for me, psychologically, in the last few weeks. The holidays do that to me. And you, my few and faithful readers, get to see behind the curtain of my mind. Raw and mosty unedited. Much more than family or friends ever get to see.

I am who I am. Roughly, in unequal parts: flawed, funny, smart, lazy, selfish, giving, charming, deceitful, inquisitive, cultured, resourceful, respectful, confident, patient, withdrawn, lustful, risk-taking, friendly, religious, stubborn....etc.

But, the holiday are over and life is returning to a normal level of disfunction for me. Which means that I am smiling today and thinking about the future. So, without further ado, more new year’s resolutions off of the top of my head:

- spend focused time with the boys: play, encourage, mentor.

- continue working on the house to make it a positive home environment for the family. Fix all of the broken things that are sapping our will, and re-purpose rooms to make living together smoother.

- Teach one of my sons to play guitar. Not sure which one.

- Read more, and I already read a lot. Read all of the things that I’ve been wanting to that I haven’t gotten to lately. Shakespeare. Darwin vs. Intelligent Design (Johnson, Dembski, and Behe). More Bible. Plays and novels.

- Learn Tai Chi. Okay, this has been on my list for twenty years. This year I am going to do it.

- Lose 25 lbs and be fitter. For my health. This I can do. I need to get back to my Air Force weight.

- Start preparing for the end or the world in 2012, as per the Mayan calendars. Stocking up on food supplies and guns.

- Less politics. This one is hard for a political junkie. But, I need to tune out for the next 8 years or I will have a stroke.

- More music. You can’t have too much.-

I'll stop there, although I'm sure I'll think of more.

Happy New Year, everyone.

P.S. I'm at least partially kidding about the 2012 thing. Just threw that in to see if you were reading closely. Although, the MiddleEast is flaring up and there was a swarm of earthquakes in the Yellowstone Supervolcano caldera last week and...as you were.

Blogging the New Year

Here I am again. Unexpctedly on the road again in a hotel - away from Mrs. SCM on New Year's Eve! Sad. Very sad.

A hotel with a bar, at least. Happy couples all around me, dancing the night away minutes from the big kiss.

So, with a cold brew in hand and a good view of the sexy girls in party dresses on the dance floor (eye candy!), I'll share New Year's Resolutions:

1. More and better sex and romance:

- of the marital kind preferrably
- romance, because I'm that kind of guy
- sex, because....just because! Good sex. Tender sex. Rough sex. Kinky sex.

I've given that last one some thought in the last two days. Oh, yeah. I have a plan. I'm going to be pushing the boundaries in 2009. It's either going to get better or break. I'm hoping for better. I'm making changes, taking charge. Mrs. SCM does not know what is coming her way, but I'm going to do my damndest to make it a banner year.

2. Ah hell, do you really care what the other 9 are?

Happy New Year's, everyone out there in blogland. You were all awesome in 2008.

Surfing the Sexual Smorgasbord on Craigs List

Something I like to do when I’m lonely or blue or fruitlessly horny is to surf CraigsList.com, especially the “casual encounters” section.

I’m not talking about using CL to try to actually hook up with another living person or persons for NSA (no strings attached) sex. That’s mostly an exercise in frustration and disappointment. Not that I would know…

I’m talking about surfing CL for amusement and titillation. Sort of a sexual amusement park or a university level sex education. Surf it to watch other people trying to hook up. It’s amateur porn at it’s best. There are some hot pictures of real people on there if you work for it, just a right-click from being in your hidden porn folder. Plus the erotica of people pitching a sexual encounter in just a few lines.

I have two tips for you to enhance your CL surfing experience:

1. Go traveling. Don’t just focus on where you live, although that’s a good starting place. Go bigger. Go exotic. Go to the “cities” column and start picking out big cities that might have hot people in them trying to hook up. Places known for hot bodies and/or sin. Las Vegas of course – I check it weekly. Miami, LA, Orange County next – all featuring a high percentage of the beautiful people. Work your way through Chicago and New York. It’s cheaper than airfare.

2. Open all of the casual encounters categories one by one and explore. Here are some for starters:

a. M4W (men for women): the heart of NSA sex. Lonely men desperate for the hook up. Trying to sell themselves, usually with dick pix and/or promises of great oral ability.

b. W4M (women for men): a sea of enticing but mythical ads. There are no real women looking for NSA sex on CL. Just traps for lonely men, taking them to pay sites.

c. M4M (men for men): Wow. NSA at it’s purest – hookups on the downlow. Tops looking for someone to take their load. Bottoms looking to take them. This section is very real, and has a language all it’s own. Lots of dick pics.

d. W4W (women for women): my favorite surfing zone. Lesbian, bi, and bi-curious women seeking each other. (Pausing while I am imagining them kissing. Yeah. Okay, I’m back). Some fakes here, but they seem mostly real. Femmes and Studs. Two types: women really wanting to lick kitty or have their kitty licked (NO COUPLES, NO MEN!!!), and women that have a man that will join or watch. A few sexy girl pics to be found in the mix.

e. MW4MW (couples for couples): the lifestyle. Swapping, either soft or full. Hot couple pics found here, either clothed or in the act. Penetration pics.

f. MW4W (couples for women): Couples looking for the unicorn – the single sexy female that will swing with them. Either for the wife alone of hubby will join in. If you’re a female willing to be with a couple, the world is your oyster here. You could have a date every night, it seems. Couple pics here, but usually individual of the male and the female. Selling her bi-ness and his package.

g. MW4M (couples for men): This is a mixed bag. Couples wanting an extra straight guy to double team her. Wanting a bi-guy to have contact with him, though more rare. Cuckold men looking for a “bull” for their hot wife. Domme females looking for an extra sub. Not as many pics in this section.

h. W4MW (women for couples): mythical unicorns. Enough said.

i. M4MW (men for couples): men in their 40’s trying to find the NSA sex via a couple, having given up on finding a unattached lady.

j. Exotic categories: I particularly like to look at the m4ww category – hey might as well throw the hail mary pass. If you really want to get out there, try the t4m (tranny for men) category. See if you can find a good picture of a “passable” transvestite or cross-dresser looking to hook up with a guy.

Did I leave anything out?

It’s a veritable sexual smorgasbord on Craigs List. An eye-opener, I think. An education, no doubt. Happy surfing.

A Magnificent Christmas

One of the best Christmases ever for my family, today - Day 7 of the frozen Crystal City.

My children well behaved. Ecstatic that Santa finally brought their longed-for Wii.

Mrs. SCM face lighting up over small but well thought out gifts.

A dinner with extended family, survived.

Getting laid would have been the topper.

I'm settling for watching my favorite movie after all are in bed: "Shakespeare in Love".

A good day to remember.

Merry Christmas

Ahhh, the quietness of Christmas Eve. Nice.

I've got all of the presents wrapped. I'm sitting by a beautiful Christmas tree, everyone else in bed already. I've got to fill up some stockings yet, and arrange the gifts under the tree.

Watching my wife and kids light up tomorrow morning and spending a good day together will more than make up for a lot of dark days lately. They are a blessing, and I am grateful for my family.

I am a Christian man, and I realize the reason for the season.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

Semi-Funky

I'm back, for the most part, from the disturbingly deep funk that I dropped into for the last few days. The holidays, some family dynamics, and the never ending icestorm were taking me down.

I appreciate the advice that I got to try anti-depressant medication. I do. My doctor has recommended it, actually. It's not for me though. My thought about it is this: some days depression is the only rational response to my life situation. It's temporary, and I get through it. Snap myself out of it.

It was time today to snap out of it today. I took some steps to feel human again. A long hot soapy shower. Some fresh clean new boxer briefs. A short masculine haircut. Some time outside.

Though I have three more family gatherings in the next two weeks that have the potential to take me down again, I'm optimistic.

I'm up. I'm frisky. Bring it on...

Dateless and Virtual in the Semi-Arctic

The fucking holidays are wearing me down, as is my family.

I'm no good being around anyone at the moment. I couldn't be more depressed right now, and no one else needs to be taken down by that.

Which is why I have been sitting in my car outside our McDonald's (great WiFi)for the last 3 hours, engine idling to protect against -20 deg windchill, surfing the internet - mostly because I don't want to go home. Pathetic.

Did you know that they play Britney Spear's "Womanizer" about every 20 minutes? Yeah, they do. I'm starting to like it.

I tried to cheer myself up last night by going out to a movie. A good flick, I guess. But, I couldn't help noticing that I was the only one there date-less at a romantic comedy on a Saturday night. It wasn't the first time, won't be the last. Pathetic.

What the fuck went wrong with my life?

I'm a good guy, I think. Flawed, but good on the whole. Trying to be a good husband and father - for all of the good that does me. I'm reasonably handsome. I'm a caring and giving lover. I've taken the time and effort to learn how to please a woman in bed. I'm not a jerk. I'm relatively creative and interesting.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Why can't I have a fulfilling sex life? Is that too much to ask? Really?

Fuck.

I may just sit here in my car all night, or at least until I run out of gas.

I can't pull out of this funk.

HNT - Hiding From the World

Brrrrrr, it's cold outside. Plus, I'm maximum bummed out today.

So, I'm hiding out under my flannel sheets until further notice.

There's extra room under here. Anyone want to join me?





Happy, Half-Nekkid Thursday, everyone.

Now, go see Os.

I need a Hug. A Naked Therapuetic Hug.

I wish I could write something sexy today. Not in me today.

I'm depressed and craving intimacy today. Not easy things to pull out of.

The Holidays always depress me, starting before Halloween and running all the way through the new year. It's too much demand to be social. I'm not that social. I can't live up to the demands of the season and I always end up letting someone, typically Mrs. SCM, down. I try. I really do. But it wears me down to a nub. I'm there right now. Nubbish.

I've also been having an incredible string of bad luck on the small things. I'm grateful for the big things - like still having my job for one. But the small things are adding up and bumming me out. A computer virus that's relentless. (Death to hackers!) My car broken into and robbed. My car rear-ended. The mental toll is adding up. I'm needing a crawl in bed with a cup of hot chocolate and read a book day. Soon.

To top it off, I'm unusually aware of all of the great women aroud me everywhere everyday.

My wife to start, who has a great tush. I was noticing that again the other day. Not much happening in the romance departmnent this week, mostly because of the damn busy season.

Co-workers. Good God how many good looking women there are where I work now! It's unfair, to not be able to do anything about that.

Horny and depressed at the same time is not a good thing.

I'm craving some restorative intimacy. Or some rocking sex. I want both - I'll take either.

The Equalizer

I'm constantly amazed by this internet thingy - how it equalizes us all out in the best possible way.

An example, from this week:

I signed up on Classmates.com a while back, mainly to RSVP for a class reunion and also to see if I could contact my high school friend and college roommate to see where he wound up. I haven't been very active on that site. A little surfing to see who I might recognize. But, I'm not trying to meet people or chat on there.

I have an email capability on there, which I'm barely aware of. In fact, I've received emails on there from only two people.

One, from the aforementioned roomie who - it turns out - is still as irritating as he was when I lived with him.

And two, last week out of the blue from the class Goddess! I believe that I clicked on her profile and it must have registered a visit. So, she emailed me.

I was thunderstruck. This was a girl who was WAY out of my league in HS. She was gorgeous, although that word is inadequate. She had an ethereal beauty and a high-intensity smile. And she definitely had an "unobtainable" quality about her. She wasn't a "hottie" as I understand them now - that word is too crass for her. Not a cheerleader. She didn't even run around with the popular crowd. She was above them even, in a class by herself. She was aware of my existence, and that was enough for me in a school of almost 4000.

Ever since then, if I had an occassion to open a Year Book and look up some friends I would make sure to go by her picture. "Wonder what happened to her?", I would think.

Now I know. She has a good and quiet life in another part of the country, with a hubby and kids. She has a good stable job that I would never have guessed her in. And she comes home once a year to see family. She seems to be happy with where life has taken her, though with some small regrets.

How do I know? Because she's emailed me now a few times. She remembers me, and seems to like me.

As it turns out, we're both just people. Equals, at least on the internet. And that is a really cool thing.

From Famine to Feast!

Four times. In two weeks. Really.

That's like an annual record for us lately.

The woman cannot keep her hands off of me. Not that I'm complaining.

"Wow - 5 to 7 inches", She said...

...of snow, of course. Winter has arrived! Brrrrrrrr.

Half of me likes winter. Half of me is freezing my buns off.

Stay warm, everyone.

Aphrodesiac Cinema

Old me would have caught the signs, but not acted on it. New me had other ideas.

"How was your movie?", I asked as she walked in the house. "Oh, really good", she said - and I caught the purr in her voice.

See, here's the thing: this is a recognizable repeating pattern. I send Mrs. SCM out for a gettaway evening. She goes to the local multi-screen and sees a romantic comedy. She comes home frisky.

The tricky part is what happens next. What usually happens is that I pick up on the frisky vibe but find a way to ignore it or divert. Anything but act on it. Not because I don't find her sexy or attractive - because I certainly do. But there are so many other dynamics involved that kill a desire for intimacy.

But, and here is the critical but, I'm trying to change that.

I heard the purr in her voice. I acted. First, I made sure that the kids were put away for night. Then I slipped into the bedroom after her.

"Would you like some company?", I said with a devious smile. The surprise look on her face was replaced with a smile. "Sure, let me get ready."

And it was on.

Passionate and aggressive. I was taking charge. Taking things in hand. Probing and taking with my mouth and my fingers. Taking her.

I moved in between her legs faster than usual. Kneeling there, slathering on lube as I made my raging hard-on evident to her.

"Wow, is that thing bigger than usual?". What guy does not want to hear that! No, but thank you Cialis.

Penetration. Teasing as I do - with just the engorged head stretching out her opening where all of the nerve endings are - but just for a moment. Then, penetration, deep and strong. Pounding. My mouth gripping her at the base of her throat as I drive into her.

"You really feel good in me", she gasps. Breath coming hard for her. My whole frame pressing her into the mattress. She takes me in. Compliant. Arms wrapped around me holding on as I press deeply into her, determined to stretch her.

Flip over, I command with my hands. No words necessary. Doggy-style with conviction. Gripping her ass in my hand, determined to bruise her with my fingertips. To leave a mark. Feeling her press wantingly back onto my hard cock. Come to me, baby. Come for me.

"Make it feel good for you", she whispers back to me. Oh, it does. How could it not?

But, here's the thing, here's what I know: I am not going to get off. The con of the ED meds. A reliable rock hard erection, but way too long to come. And I don't really care. It's all in the journey.

So, I switch us to afterplay. Our way. Her vibrator on her clit. My finger(s) probing her pussy as only I can. She is oblivious. Lost in multiple orgasms. Only barely coming back to awareness at one point:

"Is that a just a finger?", she asks, puzzled.

Oh, no. Not just a finger. A highly skilled tantric finger. Knowledgeable in the folds and nerve endings of her delectable anatomy. An orgasmic finger.

With her sated, we retired for the night.

That's my goal for now. To hear the purr in her voice. To act when I hear it.

HNT - Thanksgiving

I have a lot be thankful for this year, all things considered.

I don't see it that way every day, but that's my bad. It's all in how you see it. So, I'm taking today to be thankful and hopeful.

Thankful for my wife, a good woman of incredibly generous spirit. Thankful for my children, two vital and talented boys. As chaotic and disfunctional as we are, we are a family.

And hopeful. Hopeful that I'll have more partnered time than solo time on this big bed.

Happy Half-Nekkid Thursday, everyone.

Go see Os.

High-Caliber Male Bonding

"Dad, would you take me hunting?"

I was surprised by the question from my teenager, but grateful. I've been struggling, since I've been home with him more, to find ways to spend positive quality time with him. He sees to hate me more than he values me, which is disheatening to say the least. I keep looking for opportunities to change that.

Hunting? Probably not right for us right now. I'm not opposed to hunting. Been there, done that. Not in while though and I would have to get back up to speed on it before I could teach him. Plus, I can't say that I would feel completely safe with him out in the woods with him for an extended period with a loaded firearm. He's more than a little clumsy, and it's a long way to the emergency room.

"How about target shooting instead? With a real gun?"

"Yeah, that would be great!" His excitement seemed real. I was hopeful.

So, I took the necessary steps.

Paid a trip to the local gun store. (Where, by the way, guns were flying off of the shelf pre-election with the knowledge that our frontrunner for President would quickly ban them. Better get them while you can. So, I did.) Found a nice used scoped .22 rifle for him. Something orders of magnitude more fierce for me - you wouldn't want to mess with me, just sayin'.

A nice handgun or two. One his size. One my size.

A membership to a gun range. Eye protection and ear plugs. We were ready.

Not Mrs. SCM. She doesn't need to know, as far as I'm concerned. She'll just worry. This is just between us guys.


So, we set off by ourselves for a Saturday adventure at the range. I told him where we were going after we got in the car. Talked to him about gun safety all the way there. Put the fear of God, and me, in him about safety. I also told him that I could teach him to be a marksman just as I was in the military many years ago.

We took our time at the range. Stood in the chill air and learned to load a clip. To keep the barrel down range at all time. To use his scope. To check that the gun was clear after shooting before any thing else to check that the range was clear before running to check his target.

I got his attention right away by blowing apart a two liter coke bottle at close range with a military round. Ka-BAM! I showed him the ragged tear in the hard plastic. Imagine if that was the skin, and that spilled coke was the blood, of someone that you loved but accidently shot. What would happen to them? "They would be dead", he said somberly. "That's right. Now let's have fun learning how to shoot safely."

An hour later, and a lot of spent brass later, we packed up. The kid listened well and is a pretty good shot. A nice pattern in his target. And ole Dad could still put one where I wanted it at 100 yards with just the sights. That felt good.

High quality male bonding, via ballistically punching holes in paper with hot lead. Fun. We need more of this in our lives.

I taught him to use his weapon confidentally and safely. Hmmmmmm, that reminds me that we still need to have the sex talk...

HNT - Horndog Lunchtime

A dilemma. I was very hungry. And, I was horny as fuck. What to do.

Parking in the alley behind the restaurant took care of one of those problems. 15 minutes later in the drive through took care of the other. Then it was back to work.

Happy Half Nekkid Thursday.

Now, click on the button and go see Os.

"So, do you want to fool around a little?"

She started it.

And by she, I mean a very pretty and sexy woman. That would be my wife.

And by it, I mean two hours of passionate and orgasmic reconnecting sex.

And by orgasmic, I mean somewhere in the neighborhood of six toe-curling orgasms for her. None for me, but that's alright. I'm always focused on her pleasure the first time we reconnect after it's been a while.

And by focusing on her, I mean lingering. Lingering as I tenderly kiss her soft lips. Lingering as I rain kisses down her shapely neck. Lingering as I firmly trace the pad of my fingertip across her engorged clit and then inside to her G-spot. Lingering as I spoon against her side and stroke my hard cock into her while she holds her favorite vibe in just the right place for ever so long. Lingering.

And by the first time, I mean last night. Tonight is a different story. The throbbing inside my slacks as I write this tell me that we're in for a more aggressive night. My turn.

So. Do I want to fool around? No, I SERIOUSLY want to take her.

HNT - Waking Up Wet

Yeah, I usually don't wake-up until I am half-way through my morning shower.

Pass the soap!

Happy Half-Nekkid Thursday.

Rebuilding My Home

If you walked into my house on any given day, you would recognize it as a metaphor for my marriage.

Crumbling. Cluttered (to understate it greatly). Chaos.

You would attribute it to the state of the two overwhelmed care-takers: defeated.

We are. For the most part, we've given up.

I still don't want to giveup. I'm not leaving. And, I'm tired of walking around defeated.

I've made major changes in my life. Changed careers and got off of the road. I'm home now, spending time with my family.

Lately, I've been inspired by the show "Extreme Makeover-Home Edition" to take one more step and to rebuild my home emotionally, by rebuilding my home physically.

Fix the many items in disrepair. Even though my kids break things faster than I can fix them - I have to get ahead of that.

Re-purpose many of the rooms. Use physical space to create separation from conflict in a good way.

Banish the clutter. It would lift our morale.

My wife deserves to live in a better home than we do currently. We all do. I am not a handyman - far from it. But I can try.

Rebuilding my home, as a metaphor. Wish me luck.

And I'll see you at Home Depot.

Glue-less

So, I was driving around in my car last week listening to my favorite radio hostess - Ms. Tiffany Granath, of Playboy Radio's "Afternoon Advice" on Sirius.

It's a sexy show, with good advice.

Tiffany is a PhD (Phone host Diva) who dispenses relationship advice, including this profound nugget injust 4 words:

Sex is the glue

Wow. Probably true.

Which is why it is a miracle that my marriage is still surviving glue-less.

I have to work on that.

Happy Halloween!

I'm not a big Halloween fan. Too much candy around that I can't eat.

Oh well. I try to participate anyway.

I spent some time taking the younguns around the neighborhood collecting bucketsful of the candy that I can't eat.

So far, so good.

I spent some time hanging out dispensing lots more of the candy that I can't eat. Complimenting all the kids on their costumes.

So far, so good.

Until a couple came by. Older than all the rest. 16 or 17 ish (I hope).

The guy in some nondescript costume. Whatever.

The girl, STOP EVERYTHING!!!!, oh the girl. Defininitely not non-descript..

Pretty, oh yes. Strikingly so. Perky cute face with a megawatt smile.

Platinum blonde hair in ponytails.

VERY sexy very short gingham dress with ruffles and a very low and full cleavage.

White stockings going up to luscious firm thighs.

Coming very close to me and leaning in to take her choice from my basket of goodies and

OH COME ON! That's not fair.

Thou shalt not tempt the old guy. Not nice.

Happy Halloween everyone.

Return to HNT

I am amped up for the election next tuesday, so here's my election week HNT.

Happy Half-Nekkid Thursday, everyone.

Hit the red button on my sidebar to see why we get half-nekkid on Thursdays.

And then, go vote! (Only if you're voting for my guy, that is. Everyone else - stay home!)

Coming Back

I was laying on my side on the X-Ray table this week. Trying not to fall off. Trying to keep the gown that closes in the back closed in the back - and trying to remember what color underwear I put on that morning.

She was very pleasant and efficient, techy girl, as she positioned me on the table. Her hand firmly moved along my body, probing for landmark features to align the beam. Ribs, muscles, hipbone.

And it was that moment, when her hand lingered with her fingers pressed firmly and confidently into the hollow of my hipbone, that froze in time for an eternity and I realized that this was the most intimate female touch that I had experienced in months.

How sad is that?

Sad, but true. Such is the state of my continued semi-celibacy.

So, I am coming back to write Semi-Celibate Erotica once again. Why? Well, for the most basic reason of all for us bloggers - I need a forum to express my inner life again. To speak out loud what's rattling around in my head. To work things out, to observe, to opine, to make myself - and maybe you - laugh now and then.

To recap: when I said goodbye a year ago it was to focus all of my attention and efforts on my family. Two reasons. Major and overwhelming and unexplainable kid stress for one. And my life on the road in planes and trains and hotel rooms every night which kept me from dealing with our issues.

My kids needed me home to teach them and set boundaries and be there. My wife needed me home to carry my weight in the war zone.

I've done that. I've made major changes in my life to do that. I'm home. I'm engaged in life. I'm doing my part.

But, sadly, I am still semi-celibate. Still isolated from my wife. There is a serious lack of intimacy in the war zone and it's not what I want for my life or hers.

I haven't given up. I want to work through that.

And I will. Here on these pages, again.

I'm back. Let's talk about the semi-celibate life.

Wow, has it been a year already?

So, what would you think if I came back?

Final HNT: A Retrospective End to this Blog

Hi. If you're just finding this blog, this was the last of 300+ posts in 18 months or so, speaking to the topic of semi-celibacy - whatever that means to you. This is about what it meant to me. Read this post, and perhaps the first post, and any or all in between. Enjoy.

Yes, as I announced in my last post on Monday, I am choosing to end the run of this blog that has meant a lot to me over the last 18 months or so. I'm still reeling from the impact of the first sentence of that post, you have no idea how much, but the right course of action is still clear to me. I need to set aside this blog and devote everything to my family.

I won't be an "internet vandal" and delete the blog, leaving many of you with a broken link. I plan to leave it up as is. I wrote 310 posts in 18 months, so feel free to scroll back down through them. (I set my settings so you can scroll down all the way to the beginning.) I think there are some gems there, but that's just me being vain.

Let me go out on a positive note, with some observations and thanks.

I hope that I added something to this fascinating conversation and community that is the blogosphere. I wrote what I felt, mostly unedited. I expressed myself honestly. I tried to offer some insight into the Semi-Celibate life, some humor, some honest lust.

Unexpectedly to me, I offered quite a bit of exhibitionist photograpy. Who knew that was in me? I didn't. Most fun for me was "January's 31 days of My Dick"! Wow, did I get carried away there or what? Unfortunately, many of those "click-thru" pictures have been found and deleted by my photo hosting site as "unsuitable". Sorry for the broken links. I hope you right-clicked and saved them before they disappeared. :) If not, email me and I can send you a few of them.

You not only saw a lot of me, you learned a lot about me. About my semi-celibate life. About my BOB-of-the-Month club. About my struggles to square my faith life with the flawed side of me. About my porn habits. 6 weird things about me. Etc. You guys know more about me than anyone in my real life knows. And, it's been a privilege to be a blogger.

I got more than I gave, I know that. You fellow bloggers are wonderfully talented people. I am grateful for the blogging technology that gives all of us a chance to live a bigger life than we would otherwise. Thank you Blogger!, and all of the other platforms that you write on. My friends, you have talents that are mostly unknown and unappreciated by your friends and family in your real life. They have no idea who you really are and the amazing things you are capable of. I know you. I appreciate you! All of you out there.

I want to say a special thanks to all of you who I became friends with, in a very real sense, because of this blog. Those of you who comment regularly and email me. I know I will leave some of you out unintentionally in a list, but I want to try.

I appreciate you (in no particular order!) - Kim, Chelle, Bunny, Al Sensu, Lee Ann, Phain, Lime, Jean, Stealth, Tara Tainton, Piper, Shay, Desireous, ZigZag Man, Polt, Kitty, Mom the Minx, Lapis Ruber, Zoot, BadBadGirl, BadInfluenceGirl, The Girl With Secrets, Lushly Me, Sarengetty, Sarah, Always Curious, Sophry, Oksana, Susie, SeaRabbit, Blither, Hot4U,AG, M_o_o_nspells, Ryann Rain, MG, Moosekahl, Vixen, Drama, Anastasia, JeN, Janeway, Always Curious, and my first commenter - Pharoah's Girl.

If I left you out - I'm sorry! - or if you have been a lurker, say hi in the comments. Please? I'd love to have 100 comments on this last post. I don't think I ever got more than 35.

Finally, I want to say something about the title of this blog: Semi-Celibate Erotica. It wasn't just a cute name that I thought up. Is it just me, or did this idea of being married yet frustrated by the "chasm that is your marriage" - as one astute commenter put it - resonate with a lot of you. I almost felt like this could be a team blog. That a lot of you could write excellent posts on the topic of the pain of losing that level of intimacy with the one person you should have it with. If so, I wish it wasn't true. I wish you all happiness with your mate, and great sex to go with it. I hope to find that again, myself.

Peace out, to all of you terrific people - bloggers and lurkers alike.

Finally, I'll leave you with a retrospective of my favorites of my HNT pictures.
























Happy Half-Nekkid Thursday to you. Go. Blog. Be Happy. I wish you all well.

Farewell to Summer, and this Blog

"Dad, when you're sleeping I'm going to stab you in the heart with a steak knife and kill you."

Was my son, glaring at me from with hate-filled eyes, serious? I didn't sleep in the same house with him that night, if that answers your question.

We're having a bad weekend at SCM's house. As bad as it gets without the police or the emergency room or pediatric psychiatric incarceration involved, although we almost got to all 3. I had big plans for the holiday weekend. Family time together. Fun times in good weather. And, of course, it all went straight to hell by Friday night.

Bottom line: when you hear a threat like that directed seriously at you from your own deeply disturbed child, you have a decision to make.

Rather, a decision to finalize. I was heading that way back in May when I announced a Semi-Hiatus for the Summer. I said then that family needed to be attended to. That distractions needed to be minimized while I tuned in. It started with a conversation with that same son that went like this:

Son: "Dad, would you play checkers with me?"

SCM (working on my laptop): "Not now. I need to get some work done." - Not true, I was blog surfing.

Son: "Dad, you never play games with me." Not entirely true, but true enough. I heard him and I got the point.

So, I minimized distractions some. I listened. I tuned in to my family. Or perhaps more accurately, I spent less time escaping on the internet from the deep disfunctionality of our little simple home.

Here's what I know:

My wife and I live in a war zone. We are casualties of that war. The War Zone that is our daily routine has damaged all opportunity to share an intimate life - and is ultimately the cause of me (us!) being Semi-Celibate. If that sounds melodramatic, too bad. It's true. Our best efforts, and the best efforts of countless doctors and medicines and social workers and friends and family, have not resulted in any semblance of a normal life.

Our two boys, both adopted from foster care - sweet and precious and smart and athletic and a blessing in the best of moments - are deeply troubled and disfunctional. They are capable in their worst moments of causing great damage and of hurting themselves, us, or others. I take the threat to my life - not the first time I've heard it - seriously. They are each, in their own way, both troubled and trouble.

(On a side note, or maybe not: Do you remember the day of the shootings by the student at Virgina Tech campus earlier this month? The stark tragedy of that day? Well, I was distraught that day and days following. Not just for the 32 or so students senselessly slain. But for the parents of the shooter. I feel for them. What do you do when you know that your child is capable of harming self and others and that despite your best efforts you might not be able to change that course? What do you do?)

Lastly, here's what I know most:

- I need to man-up like I've never manned up in my life.

- There is no bailing out. No escaping. This is what I signed up for. A committment to my wife for life - for better of for worse. A committment to two judges to raise these two boys, come what may. There is no help coming over the horizon. No one to hand them off to. We're it. We're their hope of a stable life.

- My family does not need a blogging husband/father, escaping selfishly. They need a present one, tuned it with no distractions. They need a praying one, praying for intercession and blessings in their lives.

I'm re-dedicating everything that I have to them, my family. Ruthlessly eliminating distractions. Faithfully giving them everything of me. Changing the course we're on, as best as I humanely can.

I have one more post in me, later this week, to summarize the blog and to say some thanks on my way out. Later....

Update: Obviously, I had a "dark night of the soul" kind of weekend. I just want to add this morning that I love my boys and have endless optimism for them and their lives. But, I am also gravely worried for them and serious about what it will take to keep them out of trouble and help them have a good life. That's what I'm focused on this morning. I appreciate everyone's comments, thoughts, and prayers.

HNT # 57: House Cleaning

So how many of you like to be naked when you're at home alone? Yeah? Me too.

Here's me from this week, cleaning the way I like to. Half-Nekkid. (Okay, I'm wearing a hat so that I'm not fully nekkid. You'll just have to trust me on that one.



Click on the pic to turn me around.

As a bonus, just because I haven't posted one of these in a while: if you're feeling frisky while you're surfing HNT's then click on the pic below for something a little more "in your face" NSFW.



Hmmmm. I didn't realize that my vasectomy scar was that prominent. But then again, I don't see that view very often. Learn something new every day. Remind me to tell the vasectomy story some day. It's hilarious to everyone except me. Ouch!


Happy Half-Nekkid Thursday, everyone.

Porn Purge

I've been in purge mode for a few days. It happens every so often - the porn stash gets unmanageable and it's got to go.

Imagine for a moment a large Hefty garbage bag full of magazines, videos, signed Hooters calendar, VHS cassettes that were themselves mix tapes of a lot of earlier porn that was purged, sex toys - including the well-enjoyed rubber Jenna Haze pussy featured in earlier posts. Gone. In the dumpster. Goodbye.

That's a lot of porn. More than most people have ever even seen. Gone.

I did keep the CD wallet with about 100 DVD's in it.

But a lot of my classic porn is no more.

Whatever.

HNT #56: Razor Free Zone

I don't shave on vacation. Never have. Never will.

It's fun to have whiskers for a while. But alas, they had to go coming back to the real world.

Happy Half-Nekkid Thursday, everyone.

More Towels Please.....

I've heard it said that hotel maids can tell if a man or woman stayed overnight in a room. If it was a man only, then only one towel will be used. If there is a woman in the room, all the towels will be used followed by a call to the front desk to ask for more. What's up with that.

I live up to that joke in my business travel. I only ever use one towel - even if I'm there a week. :)

Vacation is a different story. With the whole family in tow, let me just say that the call to the front desk has been placed.

Vacation is wonderful. A chance to live a bigger and more exotic life than our everday one. But it is definitely not restful!

It's been a fun week. More creating memories to come....

Down Time

I'll be off the grid for a few days - vacationing. Yay!

Some quick thoughts while I'm gone:

- Standing waist deep at a wave pool at a waterpark is highly arousing. That wave action tossing you around and such. And arousal is not helpful in that situation.

- Same for the ample amount of bikinis and tanned skin and ponytails on display at said waterpark. Again, arousal is not helpful.

- Ouch! A sunburn, and I'm only one day in. I'll need lots more sunscreen for the beach later in the week. I think I'm radiating heat back out into the universe today.

- I'm bailing on the laptop for the rest of the week and focusing all of my attention on Mrs. SCM and my younguns. If they can stand me for that long.

While I'm gone, check out the links on my sidebar. I revised it this week. Said bye to some old friends who have moved on. Added some new friends. Check them out.

I'm off for some fun and chill time. Later.

HNT # 55: Hanging Around

If you've read my prolific posts this week, you know it's been a crazy one. First, intensely horny. Later, grouchy and outspoken. How do you people put up with me?

Okay, I'm back to horny again. Enough with the grouchy.

And what I need, to get completely out of the grouchy funk, is Half-Nekkid Thursday! A chaste one for me, I think you'll agree. If you want more out of the pic - and know your tailoring - use your imagination and guess whether I "dress right" or "dress left".

Happy Half-Nekkid Thursday, everyone.

Click on the red button on my sidebar to learn how to participate in the HNT fun.

I am what I am...

Okay, while I'm still in a bummed out mood - and at the risk of alienating everyone - let me take on the question that two of you asked in comments on my last post: why don't husbands change, but instead say "It's just the way that I am." ?

It's a perfectly good answer, I would say. I am who I am. I am who you married. In fact, I'm a better man now than I was 3 decades ago when you married me. And yet, I get very little credit for it. I get the opposite - judgement 24/7.

I like me okay. Everyone else I know seems to like me okay. The one person who clearly does not like me - who communicates to me regularly that I'm doing it wrong, and wants more than anything else to change me - is the one person who should like me the most.

I know that you want me to change. I get that. It comes through loud and clear. 5 X 5. You are incredibly talented at delivering that message. I don't meet your standards. I don't make you happy. I don't do it right. I get that.

Why is that so one-sided though? I've never asked you to change. It's never a conversation about "two people who want things better". It's about how we can fix me. Screw that.

I like me, mostly, the way I am. Why don't you? I'm generally happy with our life together. Why aren't you?

Here's the bottom line: You wanting me to change, and communicating to me every day that what I am is not enough to make you happy, does not motivate me to change! It motivates me to avoid you at all costs. I won't argue with you about it. But, I will work too much to not have to interact with you and hear the moment I walk in the door what I've not done right this week. I will find things to do in the house to minimize conversation. I will escape into the internet. And so goes the vicious cycle. And then I'm supposed to want to initiate intimacy with you?

Back the fuck up off me already. I am what I am. Either be happy with me, or don't.

- rant off. That's pretty much how I would answer that question.

Flawed

Every now and then and I get a comment or an email from you readers, my friends, after I've posted an erotic photo or told an erotic story that says something along the lines of "your wife is very lucky".

I appreciate that compliment. More than you know. Thank you for saying it, and please keep doing so as you inclined.

But it also makes me wince. And feel very sad. Because I know the truth.

The truth is that I'm a flawed man. Maybe the majority of us bloggers are that - flawed. Maybe it's just me. But, I know that I'm flawed. I know what my many failings are.

The truth is also that if my wife wrote a blog, and maybe she does and I just don't know it yet, her blog would not be much different from many that I read in that I would make frequent appearances as "that asshole spouse of mine". (I could even write those posts for her.) She knows my failings ad nauseum. She reminds me of them, in her way, often. Daily in fact. She's not impressed. I have no illusions after three decades as to how she sees me, or of how I've failed her and my children.

I wish that I could do better than that with my life. I do.

I can escape that here in the blogosphere. But, I can't escape me. I'm flawed and that's all there is to that.

I need to get seriously drunk tonight. On a Tuesday. Does anyone mind if I don't show up for work tomorrow?

Incoherent

I was caught by a phrase used by Bad Bad Girl in her hot post "Overpower":

"She was lost in the center of the fuck....."

I was thinking about that thought. It resonated with me.

Incoherence - as I've seen it. Not submission, per se. Incoherence. That moment in the sexual act where the details go sketchy and only the intensity of feelings register.

I haven't experienced that incoherent state for more than mere seconds - if ever - myself, as a straight man usually in "control" . But, and here's the interesting but, I have caused it.

I can take you there. To those moments when speech leaves you.

I can take you there softly. Laying beside you, my body pressed into you. One hand cradling behind your neck as I nibble on your lips at my leisure. My other hand playing between your thighs. The soft pad on the tip of my finger teasing your sensitive clit. The flat of a finger rubbing up and down the length of your wet slit. One finger penetrating, just inside your opening. Teasing softly in and out. Covering your mouth completely with mine as you cum and scream into me.

I can take you there roughly. My slut in that one particular moment. Hearing my voice and the guidance of my hands as I strip you and bend you over on the bed. On you quickly. Kissing the back of your neck as my thick fingers penetrate you from behind to bring out your wetness. Standing behind you to slam straight into you in one strong stoke. Penetrated. Pinned down into the bed under me. Fucking you hard enough to keep you off balance. Uncertain. Taken. Pushing you down with my hand in your back as I stroke rapidly into your pussy. Grasping your pony tail and pushing your head down into the covers. Straining into you with every ounce of my will, driven by the sounds of your moans. My finger taking your ass as I stroke, feeling my cock through the separating membrane. Hot. Plunging into your ass until you cry out from the intensity of it all.

I can take you there.

And I've seen you there. In those sweet moments of incoherence. Seen a you that you have not seen. Lost. Angelic. At peace.

Incoherent. In the best way.

Devious Thoughts

I'm pent up.

Horny beyond description.

With a vivid imagination.

And I really, really, really want to use these.