My Journal # 370 - Tall Blonde

My date with girl B was incredible. She has the longest legs I ever saw. She kisses so softly and passionately I disappear into the mist with every kiss. She dances like a professional. She doesn’t drink much, so I haven’t either.

I like her.

My date with Girl A is cancelled. I just couldn’t bring myself to have a sex date the night after such an amazing date. Yup, I didn’t follow through with being a jerk. I just couldn’t. Girl A is upset, but I feel a lot better. I guess it’s true that true happiness comes from inside, from being good, and not from simple physical pleasure.

Girl B (Let’s call her Tall Blonde) had her company Christmas Party tonight, and is driving to see her son tomorrow. So tonight we are just texting each other.

Life is good.

 

My Journal #369 - A & B (Part deaux)

I met girl B today. And she is everything I described and perceived. I am looking forward to our REAL date Friday night. And I’m looking forward to C&W dancing again!

Girl A, the wild one, is sort of off the charts horny. She wants to know if I have another girl so she can have a lesbian / three way experience. In a way it’s getting creepy. But there is no way I am passing on 42D’s.

Yup, I’ve done “three way” sex before (with two girls of course). But to be honest, when a guy and a girl have sex, the guy is outnumbered from the get go. I mean we have one plug yet the female has three receptacles. So the guy is out gunned 3 to 1 from the start. When a second female is involved it move to 6 to 1. And I am definitely not one to sit on the bench. I get no rise watching two women, I have to be a part of the game.

Anyway, she is my Saturday date. Well, it's not so much a date as we are meeting for sex. Hey, I save money on dinner and drinks and still get the dessert, right?

I digress.

My ex went through my stuff last night and found several text messages from Girl A, seriously nasty text messages. It was a really bad night for me after that. My ex even called girl A to tell her what an ass I am. But girl is apparently resilient and just blew my ex off.

Well, that’s enough for tonight. I need to call girl B to chat.

Luv ya!

My Journal #368 - A & B

Ok . . . . so this is fun but hard.

 

I mentioned earlier this week that there are two new ladies in my life, Lady A and Lady B. Lady A is a case worker and Lady B is a Massage Therapist and was a cheerleader. Lady A is attractive and endowed with those 42D’s. Lady B is freakin’ gorgeous with a nice and sexy look. I am seeing both of these women this weekend, and both seem to be the exact opposite of each other.

 

Both women send me texts each day; actually several times a day. But the conversations are very different and sometimes it’s hard to stay on point with whom I am currently chatting.

 

Girl A is a sex freak. Our date was to meet for drinks and then go to her place for fun. She’s the one I already “did”. But now she wants to skip the drinks and just get to the good stuff (her words, not mine). She sends really sexual texts, calls me “Big Daddy” and wants me to call her all sorts of trashy words. She describes in details what she wants to do and what she wants me to do.

 

Girl B is classy and a romantic. We are meeting for a nice dinner and then dancing. She calls me “dear” and “Luv” and loves it when I call her “sweetie”. She talks about her business and her dreams, and asks about my dreams for the future. And one of her dreams is a weekend trip to the coast with the man of her dreams.

 

[Sound familiar?]

 

But on occasion I get a message from both of them near the same time. Obviously my replies are very different. So I check, and then double check who I am talking to before I hit the send button. I would seriously hate to send girl B a text calling her a “trashy slut”; or send girl A a text referencing the future. That could be disastrous!

 

But even though it’s a bit mental and nerve racking, I JUST LOVE IT!

 

So, for my friends that were worried about me since my love life crashed a few month ago; I’m doing just fine.

 

If I had to predict the future, Girl B may be a long term thing. She is really beautiful, smart, funny, loves the outdoors and called me AMAZINGLY HANDSOME. (Aww shucks!) And she likes to hold hands.

 

[Winner!]

 

Girl A is more of a “stay indoors and have sex” kind of a girl. She is a bit of an “attacher” too, so I have to remind her that we are friends for sex. I would imagine that eventually the craziness will wear off and we will part ways.

 

[Gee, I sound like such a cad!]

 

Hey, this is the new me. Like I said, I am tired of doing the right thing, being the nice and respectable guy, and then watching the ladies I like riding some thug’s . . . . . "Little thingy". Sure, that “old me” would have not gone on a first date with girl A. He would be doting over girl B only and whacking off at home late in the evening. And that “old me” wouldn’t dis-respect girl B by “slappin sweaties” with another girl while telling her I am interested in her ONLY.

 

Ya know, I refer to myself today as the new me. But actually it’s the old me from my past. The respectful, caring, loving guy appeared when I got back from my service. And since then I’ve been the doormat a bunch of times. So I guess technically this is the new, old me?!?!?!

 

MOVED ON!

 

Luv ya ladies!

My Journal #367 - Horse Sense?

My mother once told me a very interesting story about her past. When she was young she had 6 brothers and she was the only girl and the youngest sibling. This story is about a prank her brothers pulled on her.

 

As soon as she was old enough to recognize things, all her brothers told her that horses were called cows and that cows were called horses. And my mother had no reason to doubt them. Every time the brothers were around my mother they would perpetuate the prank by openly calling horses as cows and cows as horses.

 

This prank continued until my mother became old enough to attend school. It wasn’t the first day of school, but sometime in the first month or so the class discussed farm animals. And of course when they discussed horses and cows my mother, being very determined, argued that they had it all wrong. It took a while for her to realize that she had been pranked for years by her brothers.

 

What makes this story interesting to me is that after she told me this story I asked if she was embarrassed. Her reply was that she really wasn’t, she just really wanted to believe that she was right. But she eventually gave in to the common nomenclature.

 

Basically what she was saying is that in society there are common nomenclatures that are universally accepted; like the words horse and cow. But to expand it further, this commonality includes such words as “friends”, “relationship”, etc. These words are defined and the definitions are accepted, such as “Horse” and “Cow”. Sometimes someone may get the definition confused to the common definition. And that is fine as long as once the common definition is revealed the person adheres.

 

I mean, if not it’s like you’re talking “pig latin” to people that speak English.

 

If you have the wrong definition then you are wrong. Lick your wounds, apologize, laugh about it, do whatever . . . . but get it right. But I’ve found that some people intentionally invent their own definitions of words, and then use that as an excuse to con others. Honest to god!

 

Making a mistake is ok. Perpetrated a con by creating obscure definitions isn’t.

 

 

And for those of you that do this . . . . . . GROW UP!

My Journal #366 - Back in the Saddle

I know . . . . . .  it’s been a while.

 

I went to my old stomping grounds for Thanksgiving. The first night my brother, his kids and I went to my buddy’s restaurant. I ran into an old flame while I was there. So after dinner my brother took me back to my folks, I got my car, and met up with her. We had a good time.

 

At the end of the night she said she always loved me, and still does. At first that sort of creeped me out. But she was the same girl I liked years ago, so it began to make me feel good.

 

It started a train of thought. I meet women, and 99% like me right away. The one’s that I end up seeing fall for me 100%. Oops, that ratio probably dropped to 98% recently. And that particular ratio drop concerned me. But then I figured that no body’s perfect.

 

Well, I am (Hehehe) so it must be the one that didn’t find me incredible who’s not perfect.

 

The old flame took pictures that night. As you know I am averse to having my picture taken, but it just happened. And then she apparently posted them on her Facebook page. I got two more calls the next day from ladies I used to date who saw me on my friend’s page, looked up my old home number at my folk’s house, and called to see if we could get together.

 

I did choose one and we went to the River Parade. On a side note, if you have never been to that particular river parade you have truly missed an amazing spectacle. It truly would put Scrooge himself in the Christmas spirit.

 

Anyway, the lingering thought that I had lost something recently faded quickly. People that know me were lignin up to spend time with me. So I learned that just because one person doesn’t see it doesn’t mean I’ve lost anything.

 

I still want that walk on the beach with my one true love, so I will continue to search. But being in the life I used to have for a few days reminded me of what I do best. I charm people. So when I got back home Saturday I went back to that dating site to try again.

 

Mustang is gone. I gave her one last chance before I left for the Holiday and she passed. The Fox lady is still around, but fate keeps throwing up obstacles to keep us apart. So I sent out three messages to the three most interesting ladies on that site. And this time I was looking for something different.

 

All three replied to me.

 

One is a 42 year old blonde and well endowed substance abuse counselor. (A)

 

One is a 38 year old blonde receptionist that used to be a model and cheerleader. (B)

 

One is a 46 year old African American Manager for a petroleum company. (C)

 

So I’m chatting with A and she mentions that she likes to read romance novels. I mention that I dabble in writing and she asks for one of my stories. So I sent her one. The entire conversation changed immediately. She becomes a very sexual and seductive woman.

 

So I decide that while I’m looking for the perfect woman, I could have a different and unique relationship with her. I had asked to meet her for a drink, but after hours of x-rated talk she decided she just wants me to come to her place. So I drive to her place in the Woodlands and text her when I get to the address to make sure I’m at the right place. She confirms, tells me the door is unlocked and to come on in.

 

I do. She walks out from another room wearing a red mesh nightee and black heels. And she has a set of 42D’s. I’ve never seen boobs so big; I mean she looked like she would tip over while walking to me in those heels. She wasted no time with small talk either.

 

What an amazing night! We agreed that we both crave the same type of a relationship, so she is my new FB.

 

I get back to the house Sunday morning. Girl B has been writing to me. So I reply, and she is up still. We share numbers and end up talking and texting all night. She is absolutely gorgeous, grounded, and bright. So we will have lunch Wednesday to meet. I will ask her out again for next weekend.

 

I haven’t met her yet, but she is one that I would want to date to see if she could be the one. I mean blonde, a model, and ex-cheerleader . . . . ummm!

 

The last night I hear from girl C. She asks for my email address. Moments later I have 7 topless / nude pictures of her. As of today I haven’t replied to her. I am a bit risqué, but by sending naked pics to a stranger sort of makes me thinks she is mentally imbalanced. Anyway, I already have A as my FWB.

 

So that was my weekend. Now back to the Salt Mines, right?

No more lingering thoughts, I'm back in the saddle again.

My Journal #365 - A Duck on the Pond

I spent my Thanksgiving one year in the mountains. I had been lying motionless for 36 hours prior to the dawn of that Thanksgiving. I was covered in snow and had spread animal feces all over me since there were dogs in the area. I spent most of the time gazing through a high power scope, watching a target and mapping his movements.

That was my life then. I’d get sent somewhere, I’d do a job, and then I was supposed to come back perfectly normal. Last week I was told I was suffering from DPSTS. Hearing that news changed me.

I don’t go to doctors or dentists. I always say it because I know my body better than a stranger, even if that stranger is a doctor. But the real reason is I never want to hear that something is wrong. Once I hear the news from someone that supposedly knows, it becomes real.

I broke my arm, elbow and wrist once. I didn’t go to a doctor. I guess I knew it was fucked up, but if I didn’t hear it then I could tell people it was broken; but in my mind I was and would be fine. So I put on a bowlers wrist brace, an elbow pad and a sling on myself and moved on.

So hearing that my mind is a wreck was seriously bad news. I can function well. I have a high IQ, I work hard, I’m opinionated and I always succeed. But when the lights go down or when I’m left alone I drift. I’m like a duck on the water. Everything looks fine on the surface, but under the water it’s a mess.

My latest realization tied to this thought is that I will eventually screw up any relationship I try to enjoy. I was told I screwed one up last night. Also, I haven’t heard from Mustang since last Sunday night, even though I’ve called, sent text messages and emailed. So we can all assume I screwed that one up too. The Fox lady is still around, but I keep missing chances to meet her.

I screw shit up.

But at the darkest moment I got a call from HMPOA. She was busting my balls for sending rather drunk text messages to her from the game this Sunday. She said she knew I was drunk because I mis-spelled every other word, and she knows I hate mis-spelling. It made me smile a bit.

Somehow we got onto the topic of us. HMPOA and I started as co-workers, then became friends and had a tumultuous time. Everyone thought we were fucking because we were friends. After a few years of being friends and being accused of having sex everywhere including the office, we decided to try dating. That lasted about 5 weeks before we both decided that we were better friends than lovers.

I was just thinking about that relationship. Yes, it ended just like every other relationship I had tried. But it didn’t end bloody. And after thinking through it I figured out why. HMPOA is a lot like me, she is very direct and honest. Ok, she will lie in the moment; but every time she would come clean shortly after. I think that directness was the reason we stayed friends.

She used to critique our dates after we would get back to her place. I’m sure that sounds bizarre, but it was exactly what I loved about her. We would talk about everything. Where we went, how close we stood, what was said, how we kissed, we discussed everything. So I ALWAYS knew exactly where I stood with her. And after 5 weeks it was easily obvious that we weren’t meant to be romantic.

So perhaps, even though I am supposedly a mental wreck, my relationships end poorly because I need that amount of honesty. And every relationship I’ve had lately was sprinkled with inconsistencies, confusion and frustration. Yes, I take full responsibility for screwing up all my relationships. But maybe a little blame goes to all those women who wouldn’t just tell me what the heck was going on.

I know I can be good in a relationship, and I am certain that I am a great catch. Maybe my disorder creates this confusion and causes most women to pull back and keep things to themselves. But still, talking to me might have made the relationship blossom into a great friendship like I have with Banana Rama, Martel, Lovely girl . . . . and HMPOA.

I’m leaving for SA tomorrow. My folks don’t have internet so I won’t be able to write. So today I will give you my shout outs.

Banana Rama – Thank you for putting up with me all these years. You truly are the sister, and the family I need now.

Martel – Thank you for always knowing when to bug me and when to let me be in my cave. You’re my football bitch, and my trusted friend. You get me thorough a lot of tough nights even though you have no idea I’m a mess.

HMPOA – Thank you for reminding me that I’m not always the ONLY problem.

Lovely girl – We’ve drifted apart twice before. Once was your choice and once was my choice. I just glad we keep finding each other.

I have one more line for someone that I will never speak to again, and the last thing I shared with them was anger. I never want a relationship of mine to end that way.

So I choose these words as my last words ever to that person . . . . I really care about you.

Happy Thanksgiving.

My Journal #364 - Let's be Serious . . .

I used to lie my ass off. And damn, I was really good at it. I lied to get things for me. I lied to get things from others. I lied to get chicks to drop their panties. And sometimes I lied just because I knew I could get away with it.

 

I was a freakin’ liar. Yet back then everyone thought I was the most honest and trusted man in the world.

 

Then one day someone lied to me, and it bugged the shit out of me. So right then and there I chose to be honest. I became one of those guys you hate because if you ask me if “this dress makes you look fat” I will tell you what I think. But for the most part people appreciate that I am 100% honest.

 

Yet since I became honest I have been accused of lying more times than I can remember.

 

So this is a chat I thought everyone already understood; but I am now obligated to state it in public.

 

This is a journal of my life and a series of illogical stories. When it comes to entertaining you, then there may be some “fluffing”. But when it comes to me, I tell the truth. I don’t force anyone to read my journal. I ask people to try it. If you find it entertaining then read again. If you don't, then you can tell me why and we can have an adult conversation; or you can read something else.

 

But this journal is for me to vent, to dump shit off of my shoulders, and to just write. I love to write. You are welcome to challenge anything I write. I welcome all your comments and questions.

 

But don’t threaten me, it’s not very becoming. And it seriously pisses me off.

 

So, if you enjoy reading then please continue. If it makes you feel better about yourself  or your life to call me a liar then feel free, but then you probably should stop reading too. And if you don’t enjoy my journal go read the newspaper or something, I’m sure there are no lies there.