We need to be touched

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We intuitively know this, but with the hustle and bustle of our ‘work a day world’, it’s easy to forget this simple fact.

Massage can fill part of the void, if you’re living alone and aren’t seeing anyone. 

Contrary to popular belief, not every massage is a vehicle to have sex and not every masseuse or masseur is a prostitute using a clever (or not so clever) disguise to take money for sex.

Although I have been fortunate enough to have a number of massages that ended with me being invited to spend the night. However, that was something that two consenting adults entered into as adults, and no-one was “on the clock”. We were just two people having a good time and the vibe was right.

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I’ve had an equal number of massages that ended with me getting dressed, saying, “Thank you” and leaving.

My point however is that If we’re not touched, and acknowledged we start to become a little strange. Our needs aren’t being met and we sometimes become antisocial, or extremely needy. I’ve been both, sometimes simultaneously. 

On a subconscious level we know we need social interaction and a subtext to that is that we need to feel the warmth of another person’s touch. Lots of folks use the sterility of the internet to fill the need for interaction. Twitter, Facebook, and the various dating sites or chat applications have made millions of people feel relevant, perhaps even loved. But I think that the folks feeling “loved” because they have a bunch of “Likes” or thousands of followers is demonstrative of a sort of twisted adaptation to feelings of isolation.

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This point has been recently brought home to me. 

I talk to people all day long, I help people and move on to the next person in need. You’d think I’d have enough interaction to feel fulfilled. 

I don’t. 

Those people that I help are ephemeral. They’re just voices on the phone and most of the time they’re very needy. By the time I’m done with my day, I’m tired and really don’t want to talk to anyone else on the phone. So I entertain myself with the TV until it’s time to go to bed to get up and go back to work.

It doesn’t help that I work odd hours and weekends. By the time most people get to work, I’ve already been working 3 or 4 hours. The oddness of my work schedule has advantages and disadvantages.

The advantage is that I usually miss the stupid traffic of the San Diego area. The disadvantage is that I’m home mid-afternoon and “normal” people aren’t available. When “normal” people are available, I’m heading to bed.

When I’m done with my day, I’m tired. It’s more emotionally tired than physical, so it’s easy to be isolated, and allow that isolation to continue.

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I could stop someplace for happy hour but have you spent much time at a bar at 2PM in the afternoon?

Trust me, it isn’t pretty; not the kinds of people you’re likely to meet and develop healthy friendships with. Bars in general are dimly lit for a reason!

Gyms are better but even there, you’re dealing with folks that are probably not going to have time. They’re squeezing in a workout before they go on to the next thing; picking up the kids, heading to work on their own odd schedule, or in some cases just creepy people looking for something else entirely. 

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I’d been going along for months (possibly years off & on) fooling myself into believing that I was OK. Then because I was in some pain I went and had a massage.

Another person touching me slammed into my consciousness like a sledgehammer. I wanted, needed to feel the warmth of another person. I needed to hear that other person breathing and smell them. I needed the full 3D experience and to know that I was, in fact not alone.

A week or so later, I had the distinct pleasure of having a friend visit, and again I was struck by the power of someone else being physically in my space. It was comforting and settling and again hit me upside the head that I’d been too isolated for too long.

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A few nights later, I went out with a coworker that I enjoy being around. We had drinks, ate and laughed. I realized that even simple (non-work) interactions are very satisfying, while not very intimate or sexual, its far better than the cold interaction of words or pictures on a display.

All of this brings home two undeniable points. It’s not good to be isolated, especially in a crowd. And I need to find another job that pays better and is not on such an isolating schedule.

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All of this is to say; if you’re feeling isolated, or lonely, turning to the internet is probably not the healthiest source of “connection”.  Close the laptop, put the phone down, and turn off the TV. That’s what I’m going to be doing and hopefully I’ll be able to provide some pointers to finding something fulfilling over the next few months.

Okay, Enough!

The cold from hell is still hanging on.

It’s to the point now that if I’m on the mend, I feel like increasing my activity and then it comes back.

I’m in bed again coughing my fool head off, with a slight fever.

Whatever this bug is, it’s a stone bitch. It’s not like I’ve been doing a lot of stuff. It doesn’t take much at all to cause a set back.

If you’ve got this thing take it easy and give yourself time to heal.

I’m hoping that this weekend is the last weekend I have to put up with this crap. The other half is in worse shape than I am. I keep expecting to see a lung laying on the floor.


When I picked up my car the other day I saw a brand new 4 series that was honestly sex on wheels.

I went to the BMW site and built one for me. Uhh, WOW am I expensive! I noticed that automatic transmission was apparently the only option for the machine.

On a related note, when I returned the loaner car it was shifting much better. I think the transmission just needed to have more than 100 miles on it.

I’m still not a fan of automatic transmissions but I could break my rule for a new 4 series convertible. Maybe I should start a gofundme page?

Hope you have a great weekend.

The cold from hell is finally abating

For those of you that have The Cold. I give you hope. The light you see glimmering at the end of the tunnel is not necessarily an oncoming train or “The Light” you’re supposed to go into when you die.

After two weeks of misery, today I’m finally feeling more like my old self.

This has been the worst cold or flu I’ve had in many years. And to add a little spice and variety to the wonder that the virus brought into my life. The damn thing was morphing as it progressed. It’s a tease too, I’d start to feel better, then wham! A whole new set of symptoms. Then about the time my body would get a handle on those symptoms, pow! Something completely new.

Over the past two weeks, I’ve been chilled to the bone with my teeth chattering in a sleeping bag, while the ambient temp in the house was 70° F. I spent a couple of days where I was too hot with the temp in the house at 65° F. I’ve had my joints ache so bad it was agony to move my legs. That was followed up with body wide cramping of all my muscles. Through it all, my sinuses were producing all manner of gothic horrors (I had a club handy just in case the kleenex started moving!) and the coughing and hacking left my already painful ribcage feeling like I’d been in a violent car accident.

How do I know I’m on the mend? The same way every man knows they’re getting over something… I’m thinking really dirty thoughts and want to just get NASTY.

Ladies, that’s the way we work… As we get sick we want to screw because we know we’ll feel better for a little while and if whatever we’re coming down with kills us, well at least we went out on a good note.

All men want to have an unseemly grin on our faces in our caskets. I personally want to have a dirty smirk so locked on my face that my mother would blush and my spouse can’t have it jackhammered off. I want my last hurrah to be etched on my face and so dirty that folks seriously consider a closed casket. For the sake of the children, don’t ya know.

Once we survive the disease, we want to screw to declare to the world that we’re awesome, victorious, and our genes are worthy. Besides it makes us feel better. ( are you seein a theme here?) Ya just have to picture a big silver back gorilla and you’ve got a snapshot of us and what makes us tick.

So, I’m off to pound my chest, or whatever else seems appealing.

Don’t give up hope, The Cold doesn’t last forever.

It just seems that way.

Balls!

The only good thing about being sick and running a fever is that the boys are hanging really low. Ironically, while the presentation is porn worthy, I have zero desire to engage in sexual activities.

TMI?

Probably!

I’ve spent the past 12 hours running high fevers, and generally napping in bed. At the moment, I feel a lot better. Either I cooked the germs… or my brain. I’m up at 3:00 letting the dog out and having myself a nice cup of tea.

Being up at this hour has it’s advantages. All my internet access is in the bonus time, the house is quiet and every once in a while you see something that you would have missed because you were asleep.

Tonight, I got to watch the moon set. When I first got up the moon, (It was full or dang near full) illuminated the deck and the trees so well that I could see everything in the back yard. While I was waiting for the dog to finish his thing, the moon started dipping below the mountain to the west and so I stood on the deck for a few minutes and watched.

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I skimmed the news, waiting for dog #2 who is always on his own schedule to do his thing outside. I see the world continues to be an insane place. Lately it’s become laughable. Below are the items that jumped off the page at me

Yoga banned at a college (Honestly, I’ve got nothing… Tempest in a teakettle.)

Expressing your opinion at many colleges is now considered hate speech (Only if your opinion differs from the group consensus. The little snowflakes heads would explode if they read this blog)

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Eating Ethnic food is racist (I don’t know if this is only if you’re white or if eating food with ethnic origins different from yours is racist regardless of your skin color)

5 people have been shot… at a protest about a guy getting shot (Some media claim white supremacists were the shooters. Really? The media needs to look up the definition of white supremacist. Just because someone happens to be white doesn’t mean they’re a supremacist.)

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Clock Boy is butthurt and demanding 15 million to make him feel better. (Weren’t he & his family moving to Qatar?)

Gender specificity in stores like Target and Toys R Us is wrong. So where do I look for jock straps, and catcher’s cups? Just askin…

My cup of tea is finished, time to go back to bed.

It appears that I am going to die… just not today, and not from this cold.

Kill me, kill me now.

Shining

It would be a mercy.

I had a cold thing for a few days, then I started to get over it, I thought, “cool.”

I started to resume my normal activities, then Wham!

This thing came back like gangbusters, and now I’m beginning to think it would be more merciful to just beat me to death with a baseball bat.

(Note to self… If you survive, get a baseball bat! One of my favorite home defense tools! All my bats were lost in the fire of ’08.)

I’ve thought about heading to the gym and alternating between the dry and steam sauna. I just don’t have the energy to make the drive and I’m not even sure I have the focus to be on the road at all.

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I need to deal with the Bullshit of “Open Enrollment” on the health insurance front. GOD! I miss the days when my policy was in force as long as I paid the damn premium. I miss not having to deal with figuring out how I’m being fucked differently this year as opposed to last year.  Only our government could fuck up a simple transaction.

I pay you… you keep the contract in force it’s a really simple arrangement. I don’t have to review my car insurance or my homeowners insurance and renegotiate the deal every year. I shouldn’t have to do it with health insurance, except that apparently because of phased implementation we all get the “Joy” of reviewing all the wonderful shit that folks like Nancy Peolsi couldn’t be bothered to read before their “Rubber Stamp” vote on the “Messiah’s” healthcare plan.

I don’t blame ‘ol stompy foot for the healthcare bullshit. I blame the assholes on both sides of the aisle in congress for not reading the plan, and if they did read it and disagreed, for not standing up to the “rubber stampers”.

Sauna

Then there’s the annoyance that I haven’t been getting emails or regular mail to pay the insurance bill in the first place I’m going to have to review all this bullshit online or over the phone as I try to straighten out what’s, what.  Feeling the way I do I don’t really have the patience to deal with it.

On the plus side, I haven’t seen or read much in the way of news lately. I got a heavy dose of CNN while I was at the car dealership.  France “On lockdown”, Belgium “On lockdown”, Colleges across America “Racist hotbeds making people feel bad”.  To hear the News, you’d think that Stormfront or Northwestfront were in control of our college campuses and that the SS was hauling persons of color off to the camps. 

I’m assuming that in the intervening 3 days nothing has changed.

I’m going back to bed, my temp reads as 102° F so that means it’s time to shut down, stay warm & hydrated and wait for it to pass.

I can’t think anymore…

3AM

Also known as, “The Soul’s Midnight” 

It’s that time of night (morning) that can either be a whole lot of fun if you’re fucking around with someone or a group of someones, and a good time is being had by all or when you’re heading home from somewhere you shouldn’t have been. (To paraphrase Garth Brooks)

Luckily in my life I’ve had both of those situations. I’ve been toying with a book of rules to observe if you’re involved with the latter.  


Not my Brand

Helpful hint: Shower, YES! Make sure you bring your own brand of soap and don’t scrub your pits. You can scrub the skank off your nether regions and body leaving them fresh as a daisy, don’t bother with your hair or pits because after a hard day at work you aren’t supposed to smell like you just stepped out of a shower.

On the other hand you don’t want the smell of someone else’s perfume on you when you snuggle into bed with your spouse. This method splits the difference leaving you smelling just about like you should.

If you forget, and scrub all over, all is not lost. Have a nice long J/O session in your car, after you get off, relax a few minutes and let your natural smell develop. Just don’t get caught by the local cops looking for perverts.

If on the other hand you’ve forgotten your normal brand of soap… Brother, You’re on your own and may God have mercy on your soul.


Angel of Death

The Urban dictionary defines Soul’s Midnight a bit differently than I do.

Soul’s Midnight

3AM; more specifically when clubs close and everyone eating at 24-hour diners should vacate lest they be subjected to the deluge of belligerent glitter-covered drunkards and party girls exiting said clubs.
If it’s 2:58, you’re fine. If it’s 2:59, start running. You don’t want to be in the Denny’s parking lot for Soul’s Midnight.

My primary definition has an older, darker, meaning. This was the time of night when hospital staff noticed more people died.

There are other possibilities for why you might be up at this hour.

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You could be a bartender coming home from a your shift.  <— Count your money AFTER you’ve gotten home.

You could be awakened by a dog who needs to go out <— Not so bad, way better than waking up to a mess.

You could wake up from a nightmare and decide after tossing & turning from the adrenaline hit that you might as well just get up. Not so much from the adrenaline but because your brain rebooted in the full ON position and you’re unable to stop thinking about the shit that has you worried.

Sadly, it’s a combination of 2 and 3 on tonite’s agenda.

NPH

I’d woken up from a slight nightmare, and I think because a music playlist finished. I was just settling back to sleep when I realized the dog was at the side of the bed looking at me.

Okay pup, let me get something on; Dog has gone down the hall at a good clip; OR NOT. I haul my carcass out of bed, my naughty bits pulling up tight from the cold.

“Damn! what the hell is the temp in this place, 50 below?”

I open the door, the dog trots down the stairs into the backyard.  I wait for a minute or two but when the dog is heard ralphing I figure he’s going to be a while.

I close the door, I’m officially awake! 

I crank the thermostat to warm the house to something slightly warmer than the surface temperature of Pluto.

After trying the usual distractions, Here I sit.

I DONT NORMALLY WATCH PORN BUT WHEN I DO I DO IT LIVE

On the plus side I rediscovered a 3 hour long porn I’d forgotten about. I guess I should wander through the porn collection more often. This film has some fun scenes, and I think I’m going to dig out the DVD and re-rip it so that the scene markers are preserved. As it is now, all you can do with the file is fast forward. It might be nice to be able to use the “Next” scene function.

I like switching on porn at this hour because there’s nothing more celebratory of life, than ropey jets of cum shooting across a room. (paraphrasing that line, with thanks to Henry Rollins.) 

I popped out to some “On-line” hangouts some acquaintances are on late at night. No-one was up, or if they were they were, they were in private chats or fooling around in real life instead. So much for the live show and conversation.

I’d fire off the re-ripping of the DVD right now but I’d wake the rest of the household trying to find the thing, then I’d be listening for the drive to spin down signaling that the machine was finished.

I’m a little OCD about that kind of thing. I guess that the fear of the computer actually cooking while “cooking” on the task I set it keeps me cat napping instead of sleeping.

Nah, I’ll start that process tomorrow. 

So what to do now?

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Work at making ropey jets of cum??  I know as soon as I get into it, there will be a scratch at the door. Speaking of which, the dog should have been back by now. Ahh and of course the other dog wants out. 

Okay.

Oh Thanks #2 dog! Leaving poo neatly centered in the dirt right off the back stair, while qualifying as doing your business in the yard, means that I have to do Poo patrol before #1 dog comes back in and steps in it.  #1 doesn’t see very well at night anymore.

Not my preferred method of spending the hour between 3am and 4am but at least now I am looking forward to getting back into my nice warm bed and falling asleep.

Finish poo patrol. Turn off the lights. Lock the door. Head for bedroom.

#1 & #2 dogs are on their cushions asleep already. They’re snoring and as I step over them to get to my bed, they both give me the “Oh, you’re still up?” look.

Ya know Dogs…

Sometimes you guys are real jackasses!

I see a treat shortage in your immediate future.