Sunday Ear Candy

Oldie but, still a goodie. I love this song and it puts me in a creative sense of mind.

These and Those

... This, that, and the other. Much of the same. In the meantime, I'm researching how to create my own opportunity, implementing the things I truly enjoy doing, while these tired feet continue to pound the pavement. Yes, perhaps I'm tardy for this party, but sometimes it takes the rug being snatched out from under you for an extended period, to light a fire under one's ass. It's an ample ass... so I have a lot of brainstorming to do.

Save Your Own-damn-self

There's a certain type of man that agitates my gut, and causes it to gurgle with unpleasantness... making the pressure build up and hold my colon in its clutches with a vice-like grip. This type of guy orgasms and messes his drawers with creme de la man, when he thinks a woman is in great distress. He just can't bear to know that she'll be okay, and really doesn't want, desire, or need to confide in him, despite his constant pleas for her to do so...

This manly man has self-esteem issues of his own, and lest he obsesses over some woman who could care less about his prying, he can't thrive and feel good about himself. "I'm fine. My personal affairs are none of your business" usually generates a smug chuckle, and he interprets the response as combative and frustrated behavior. This type of character exists on different levels of the spectrum. Sometimes he relishes the thought of a woman having a bad day or a difficult spell and will shiver with pleasure... so he antagonizes and doles out unsolicited advice... patronizes because he's unhappy with himself, and thinks he's some sort of big shot who knows everything. He becomes even more antagonistic and self-satisfied in a desperate attempt to feel needed.. to feel superior. My theory is this type of guy was a big shot in high school and college, and is used to women giving a damn about his douchey behavior. Or that he may, quite possibly for certain, be a premature ejaculator and needs to feel adequate in some way.

He'll nibble, poke, and prod away like some mouse o'er top a hunk of cheese... a feeble attempt to break her resolve, until she crumbles into a crying heap, in his arms... as he rocks her and whispers know-it-all witticisms in her ear. This is what he's hoping will happen anyway. A regular limerent type, that one. With delusions of grandeur ... Might I suggest getting a life? It's not that serious. Regardless of how much you antagonize, patronize, and flex... you will remain insignificant in a universe known as Just Don't Give A Damn. You can be a tiny little satellite that orbits outside perimeter though.

Sick

I've been out of the loop for the past few days and was in the midst of catching up, when I stumbled onto this sick and twisted story.

Since the depravity of it all speaks volumes in and of itself, I'll keep mine turned down low mostly because I'm rendered speechless and am perplexed by growing violence toward young women, somehow serving as a blueprint for budding manhood and coming of age, as well as the disintegration of healthy sexuality and precociousness. I will say that my stomach turned even tighter, because it reminded me of this disturbing film I blogged about, that I probably won't ever watch again.