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Sharing experiences in the world of debauchery.
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Most Hysterical Thing Ever
Posted:Jul 5, 2019 5:48 pm
Last Updated:Jul 6, 2019 6:28 am
A friend of mine sent a link to my ex-wife's current little side venture. She's become a wedding officiant. Initially, I rolled my eyes, because since we were married, she has discovered she enjoys being the center of attention. Charities where she can be seen, but not actually do anything (according to her ) and so on.

If you recall from my previous posts, I was husband three and she's since married four. So, when I read the first sentence of her little 'about ', I literally spit my drink, laughing.

Weddings bring her so much joy, that she's had four of them!
Look Out!!! He's Got a Gun!!!
Posted:Apr 13, 2019 7:33 pm
Last Updated:Apr 13, 2019 9:04 pm

My first positive post since leaving Richmond. Don't get used to it...

With all of my normal social outlets unavailable in KC (homeless training, Porsche club), my social life has been barren. No surprise this place was killing me. So, I began to consider other means of getting the fuck out of the house. One of the things Kansas has a fuck ton of is shooters. And until 2008, I'd been a pretty hardcore competitive shooter, myself. 5 years of PPC and another of IPSC my belt. But it stopped being fun and more like a semi obsession or job. Shooting four matches a month and never going to the range without a set of skills I wanted to practice. Fun? Not so much. So I walked away in 2008 and sold all my custom built guns and other equipment (I won't tell you how much I discovered I'd sunk into the sport). Hadn't missed it in the least, since quitting.

But I was really wit's end on how to keep from mentally and emotionally imploding, so earlier this year, I bought a used comp gun and got ready to compete in the hell hole I live in. And today was my first match. After a decade away, I wasn't expecting much. In fact, my only goal was to have fun.

Before I get into whether my expectations were met, a bit of explanation of the sport I compete in, IPSC or USPSA. Each match has 5-9 stages and each stage is either a problem to be solved or a set of skills to be bench marked. The former can be anywhere from 3 to targets that need to be shot as quickly and accurately as possible. There are walls, barriers, and other obstacles that require you not just hose targets from one spot. Some stages require you to reload / change magazines at a certain point or fire your gun one handed...left handed. Your score is essentially how many points you scored, by hitting the target, divided by the time it took you. Points second. Equipment is broken into classes, so someone shooting a of the box Glock isn't trying to keep up with a full , purpose built pistol. Regardless of your hardware, you try to fly through a stage.

For example, one of the stages today required you to shoot five targets, lined up in a row (2 shots each), reload, then shoot another five from a different position. All were close, so it was a hose fest. I shot this stage in 6.59 seconds, with only two shots not in the highest scoring area of the target. It was one of the fastest runs on that stage for the day. But super rusty; when I quit the sport in 2008, I would have run it clean in 5. seconds, give or take a tenth.

My performance wasn't my primary focus; today was all about the experience and it didn't disappoint. One of the things I enjoyed most about competition shooting is the people. Every time I've gone somewhere new to shoot a club match, the environment was always friendly and inviting. Sportsmanship is supreme. When someone's gun breaks or ammo doesn't work, there are multiple offers to 'use mine'. You and your fiercest rivals will stand together and figure out the best way to shoot a stage.

As far as how I did overall in the match, I had a couple solid stages, like the one above, where I felt like a rock star. One or two where I was a rock star until I put a round in a no shoot target. There were a few where my gun jammed like reggae festival..bang, FUCK!, bang, FUCK!... And one or two I'd rather not talk about. But good enough for a mid-pack finish for the match. Btw, I shot more rounds today than I had in the previous ten years TOTAL, so there was still rust flying off of me at the end of the day.

I'll admit to deriving just a bit of joy from the last conversation I had, after packing up. Standing with three other shooters on my squad, I said 'not bad for my first match back'. One asked how long I'd been gone. Three mouths literally dropped open when I told them.

Today was a pretty great day; definitely the most fun I've had since moving here. Good people and gun fire. It may sound odd, but definitely food for my starving soul.
Bill, I Believe This is Killing Me
Posted:Apr 13, 2019 2:22 pm
Last Updated:Apr 13, 2019 2:23 pm

The sex hadn't been all that good and there wasn't anything more between us, so I saw her to the door and bid her goodbye. embarrassed to say I couldn't be bothered to be a gentleman and least see her to her car. The line from Piano Man popped into my head; this place is slowly killing .

I'll spare you the complete melodrama, but in addition to every other aspect of life in Kansas sucking my soul, work finally a boiling point. Again long story short, I've got a $20m chunk of my portfolio in jeopardy because we can't build quality product and the most interest I received from the E suite was one of our VP's becoming enamored by the word 'existential', which I used to describe how dire the situation is. Gutless wonders afraid to stick their necks .

This place's ability to suck the soul of was complete and I genuinely felt as though I'd rock bottom. I found myself intentionally avoiding interaction with others, outside of work. Empathy took way too much effort.

But a recent revelation elevated my mood quite dramatically. When I was hired by my current employer, it was contingent upon a commitment that were I to break it, required me to repay the relo I received. I recalled it being 3 or 5 years, but never bothered to verify; I was trapped for the duration. However, while on the phone with my parents last week, I pulled up the document and it turns the period was 1 year. 19 months now. While there was no material change to speak of, I felt an amazing sense of freedom. When and where I go next is up to , so I can blow this shithole whenever I want. And the angels sang.

I've not begun the job search yet, but likely will shortly. That process always involves a ton of stress, so I intend to bask in my new found freedom for a bit.
1 comment
Carrot Cake and Defeat
Posted:Mar 17, 2019 4:44 pm
Last Updated:Mar 18, 2019 7:24 pm
I'm pretty damned good at baking. My carrot cake is the best you'll ever have, with just a bit of extra cinnamon and white chocolate cream cheese frosting. If you're a regular reader, you've seen a few pictures of my output. Unfortunately, I've also got a massive sweet tooth. This combination can be Armageddon to my waistline, which I sweat my ass off in the gym to keep in a reasonable state. If I have a carrot cake in the house, I'll eat a carrot cake (which is a perfect breakfast food).

I thought I had it all figured out. The perfect balance of my love for awesome baked goods and containing my ravenous desire for just one more piece. I'd bake something, such as the aforementioned carrot cake, cookies, or cheesecake. A hunk would be for immediate consumption, another hunk would be vacuum sealed and frozen, then about half would be cut into pieces and taken to work. Unfortunately, word of my baking prowess has spread through the office, so more and more of my colleagues are asking to be on the 'mailing list'. So many, in fact, that just satisfying the demand would require a whole cake. Being the kind soul I am (and I enjoy the accolades of those who get my goodies), I decided the office would get its whole cake.

So, this morning, I baked three layers of carrot cake goodness, along with a double batch of frosting. One layer to go to the office and the other two (one cake) to remain with me. Then it hit me...FUCK! I'm back to having a whole damned cake for myself.

I cut a piece for a light snack and while I'm sure it's delicious as usual, all I can taste are bitterness and defeat. Time to go buy some fat pants.

Email if you want cake...
On First Date Sex
Posted:Feb 24, 2019 3:02 pm
Last Updated:Feb 25, 2019 7:17 am

This one's got some age on it, but I just realized I hadn't posted it.

Recently, I had a conversation with a woman who seemed confused and disheartened over her recent lack of success in dating. She loved sex and occasionally slept with someone on their first date, yet the guy frequently disappeared as rapidly as his post coital erection. She was distressed over feeling used and not knowing what guys want.

I've covered one of the reasons why men disappear after sleeping with a woman here, but wanted to address another consideration with respect to her question (which she shares with many other women); expectations.

I'm specifically referring to expectations associated with a first date. The first date is a no pressure, no commitment way of getting to know someone. To determine what level of chemistry exists between the two parties, and so on. Either party should be able to walk away, after a first date, without any seriously hard feelings.

First date activities can be whatever the two parties decide. Drinks only, lunch, drinks and dinner, dinner and a movie, dinner and dancing, drinks and painting class, smoking pot and cow tipping, drinks and sex, dinner and sex, just sex, and so on. Wait, did he just say sex as a first date activity? Yes, some people desire sex enough to make it a first date activity. And why not? We're (mostly) all grownups here. Who's to say sex on a first date isn't right? Clearly the woman I referenced earlier considers it to be acceptable. Besides, at some point, you'll have to determine whether you're sexually compatible with the other party; why not do it up front? Speaking for my gender, none of us will turn down first date sex; it's just not done. Therefore, sex shall be considered as reasonable as a first date activity as dinner or anything else, including cow tipping.

Regardless of the activity, first dates often don't work out for one reason or another. One or both parties decide they don't want to see the other again. This is perfectly reasonable, regardless of what the first date activity is. My female readers are throwing rotten fruit at their screens (you'll have quite the mess to clean up later) because they 'know very well' sex has greater implications than say a kiss goodnight. I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but on a first date, not so much. The key words here are 'FIRST DATE'. Those are zero pressure meetings intended to decide whether mutual interest exists to warrant a second date. Therefore, I don't care whether a date consists of cow tipping or dirty, raw sex, nothing can be inferred as to whether there will be a second date. And seriously, how can anyone claim to have a deep emotional bond after a first date? Not much more to be said there.

As an example, awhile back, I contacted a woman via a dating site and we seemed to get along well. The conversation migrated to sex and we wound up having a bit of phone fun. I was traveling at the time, but she flat out said she wanted to have sex with me upon my return. If I must... She came to my house and we did just that. The sex was okay but as we got to know each other better, it was clear to both of us we weren't compatible, with respect to an LTR. She left, we had the one further obligatory email exchange, then we both moved on. No one was upset or had their feelings hurt, because it was a first date.

With that in mind, let's delve into motivations, specifically why women sleep with men on the first date. We know how the men see the topic. Ladies, it's great you have a healthy sex drive; seriously, I applaud it. If you have a need such that you'll satisfy it on a first date, such as the woman in my example, I have absolutely zero issue with it. Hell, as a guy, I'll be the first to sign up.

However, if a woman sleeps with a man on the first date to create an emotional bond? Not a valid reason. Creating a situation where the guy feels obligated to see her again? No fucking way. That other thing I haven't thought of? Out as well. I'd go into further detail, but do I really need to write about being emotionally healthy?

But he tricked me!

One of the most common complaints from women who've had a guy disappear, particularly after sleeping with her on the first date, is 'he said felt something so strong for me and that he wanted us to be together for a long time'. Or something of the sort. Fucker lied, just to get you in the sack, didn't he? While it's fun to male bash, things aren't always what they seem as I alluded to in my womanizer post, linked above.

Additionally, circumstances may materially change in the period immediately following the sexual interlude. I had just such an experience, not a week ago after I'd started this entry (perfect timing). Things began in much the same way as in my previous example except that immediately following the sex, I still intended to see this woman again. Then things changed. She was constantly blowing up my phone with texts, even after I'd told her I was going to sleep, in one instance. There were sentiments such as 'I've never felt this way before' and 'I can't wait to see you again', which in my opinion, isn't what a 'normal' person would be saying after a first date. In short, she was making me nuts after only one date. So, I politely exited. I have no doubt she was upset and felt used. Indeed, I received the 'I thought you were different from other guys' message. If she meant that other guys couldn't deal with her critical mass clinging, I guess she's right.

I was discussing this topic with a woman and she said 'women's hearts and pussies wired together'. I get that; women develop feelings much more easily from sex than men do. My response to her was that we're all big boys and girls. It's incumbent upon us to understand how we'll respond to certain situations. And let's face it, most of us have had sex on the first date, so it's not an unknown.

Moving on, let's touch on what men want. I'll be the first to say I have no fucking clue what men want. It may sound like a cheesy pickup line, but I've been told I'm rather unique in the dating world. I'd like to think we all want a healthy, loving relationship with a woman who brings us joy. Unfortunately, I think more men than you realize suffer from insecurity and other fears that prevent them from being successful in the endeavor. This assertion comes from my own experience in the aftermath of my marriage.

Some readers are undoubtedly saying 'you're just trying to justify a one night stand', to which I respond that a one night stand is a different animal. In the case of a ONS, one or both parties know, before the first article of clothing is shed, that this will be a well, one nighter. In the case of first date sex, both parties intend to see the other for additional dates. While it's true that both carry the risk of one party being hurt in the process, first date sex and ONS's are two separate encounters, by virtue of intent alone.

The bottom line is this: If you sleep with someone on your first date, whether you're a man or woman, it's still a first date and subject to first date norms. Any emotional attachment you may have developed on ONE DATE is your own albatross.
The Midwest....Now With Even More Repressed Sexuality
Posted:Feb 23, 2019 6:38 pm
Last Updated:Feb 24, 2019 1:36 pm

My last blog was quite the rant on how Kansas seemed to be the land of the vanilla. Since then, I've gathered additional data points and my position has changed. Kansas doesn't seem to be the land of the vanilla. It IS the land of the vanilla.

We'll begin with a woman I met on another site. After some chatting, we slowly dipped our toes into the sex pool. Long story short, she had the tendencies of a dirty girl, but had a hangup about the word. "I prefer naughty." Yep, because naughty isn't quite as deviant and allows you to go to church the next morning after having your ass spanked, while a guy hammers you bent over a bed (an activity she was explicit about enjoying). I'd like a side of hypocrisy with my sexual repression, please. In any case, I'd sent her the link to my 'dating in your 40's' entry on my not here blog. She explored further and found my account of the lost weekend. "That was hot!!!" I asked if she'd like to explore that sort of dynamic. "Oh no, I hate the names you called her. I have far too much self-respect for that."

I swear the next woman that looks down her nose at my previous partners is going to hear "yes, you're completely different. The partners who've enthusiastically professed being my possession include a patent attorney and Richmond socialite, a university professor, the VP of HR for a $300 billion company, a senior policy adviser to the VA House, and a psychologist. You're nothing like those women. Enjoy being sexually repressed."

The second example is a woman who contacted me here. She read pieces of my blog and said she didn't like vanilla sex either. She then apparently copy pasted a description of what she did want, which was exactly the opposite of not vanilla!

.not into pain...erotic fun...foreplay , kissing, and I love sucking a cock balls deep....

Sounds like a nice start, but that's pretty vanilla. What made the virtual encounter even stranger was that she was dominant and wanted a submissive guy. Ummm, if you read my blog, it's pretty darned clear I'm anything but submissive. When she finally realized that, we parted ways.

Back home, in civilization, I could spot a dirty girl by looking at her eyes; they all shared a look of something interesting going on beneath the surface. No surprise, that look doesn't exist here. I bet the BDSM clubs are a bunch of people being respectful and kind, too. Yeah, that's the end.
Land Of Vanilla?
Posted:Jan 20, 2019 7:12 pm
Last Updated:Jan 21, 2019 4:47 pm

Some additional drivel on my ongoing (lack of) dating experience, otherwise known as my path to being a loser who can't get a date.

As an update to the previous entry, it turns out my dating foray may not last much longer, anyway. I've pretty much exhausted Match's members who meet my criteria (i.e. at home, age, education, etc.), beyond those who are way the hell out of my league and vice versa. Seriously, I just checked and there are only a handful (I hide those to whom I send emails and don't respond).

Despite the lack of interest, here in Kansas, I did manage to go on a date, last weekend. She was interesting to talk to, and we both had a good time. We shared an interest in human behavior, so that wound up filling a large part of the conversation. I'd written a full entry about our trajectory, but it failed the 'is it sufficiently interesting that I'd read it' test. So, here's the whole thing in a Campbell's condensed version. I said, "We all have our traumas. I went on a dating tear after my marriage ended, jumping from woman to woman, due to the fear of intimacy caused by my wife's borderline personality disorder. I didn't recognize the signs until I encountered this beautiful woman who was so detached in bed, I stopped the encounter. Oh, and I chatted with a black woman who wanted me to wear Klan robes." What she heard was, "I've had a steady stream of nympho supermodels flow through my bedroom and they were all freaks."

Insecurity ensued ('I'm concerned I won't live up to your past experiences&#39), culminating in a conversation in which she told me she wanted to see me again, then actually slut shamed me, and finished by calling me a misogynist (she never read the 'I don't date men' entry), in so many words. Just when you don't think you have any firsts left to experience, someone comes along and proves otherwise.

Needless to say, she was escorted to the metaphoric door and ejected. I've had other women express concern about my history, when I've shared it, but this one had some insecurities that smelled a lot like I'd smelled before, in women with abandonment issues. From what she shared about her previous relationships, I'd be surprised if they weren't present.

Shit, still longer than I'd hoped, but we'll soldier on to the main point I wanted to make. When I was attempting to allele this woman's fears, I was also trying to feel her out for sexual compatibility. I don't do Tab A into Slot B vanilla sex; there's a level of intensity that must be present for me in the bedroom. So long as my partner is open minded to new experiences, I'm good with her being inexperienced. Without those traits, things never go well. But despite my best efforts, she never shared a damned thing on the topic of sex. Before anyone comments that she may have just chosen to be classy, or some shit, let me point out that a. women much classier than she were much more open and b. that was the only thing she chose to be classy about. Anyway, that led to my revisiting interactions I'd had with other women, here in Hell and to my suspicion that I'm living in a sexual wasteland.

To establish some context, back home, there were very few women with whom the conversation hadn't at least tangentially touched on sex long before the second date. Not the 'here's what I'm gonna do to you' sort of chat; just feeling each other out on the capability to satisfy one another. Here, not so much. More importantly, there was only one woman in RVA I dated who wasn't either dirty or a blank slate for dirtiness. She had some serious hangups about sex, which were rooted elsewhere in a place I never had the interest in going.

Again, from what I've encountered here so far, not so much. If we throw out Klan Girl as a flyer, and look at the rest of the population (i.e. who I've interacted with), there were a number of women who made it clear sex was potentially on offer for the first date and those who acted upon such an offer. The first woman I slept with (out of a whopping two) was willing to explore. The second, who I dated for a few weeks was only into Tab A / Slot B. Granted, it was fairly good Tab A / Slot B, but even after establishing some trust with her, she summarily dismissed anything further. I had some dirty talk with the out of work trophy wife, but her idea of an amazing fantasy was a skirt, without panties, and play in risky places. Hell, with my previous partners, we called that 'Thursday'. But I was rebuked over my aberrant fantasies I tried to force on her (known to previous partners as 'a quiet weekend'. Then, there was the one who wanted to fuck, but asked if I had to degrade a woman to get off (previous entry).

Admittedly, my sample size here isn't nearly as large as that back home, but the percentages are quite alarming, just the same. Garnering interest from women is difficult enough, at the moment, but what happens when I finally do meet someone I enjoy spending time with, only to find she considers anything beyond vanilla off the table? Looks like I may be celibate for the remainder of my stay in Hell, because I just can't deal with boring sex.

As God is my witness, you'll take my restraints away when you pry them from my cold, dead hands, you vanilla fucks!
1 comment
Back to the Dating Slog
Posted:Jan 20, 2019 12:37 pm
Last Updated:Jan 20, 2019 6:30 pm

With the bruises and scars from surgery healed, and my self-confidence appropriately renewed, I decided all that positive self image needed to be blown back to hell. No better way to wonder what the fuck's wrong with you than internet dating, so a little over two weeks ago, back online I went. So far, my expectations have been exceeded.

If I'm honest, I thought looking younger than I did five years ago would make me the proverbial belle of the ball, but the level of interest I've been receiving has been amazingly dismal. When I lived in Richmond, the response rate to my first contact emails was probably 20% and I received one to two first contacts per day initiated by women. Not bad for a guy who isn't six foot four, with six pack abs and a thriving law practice. Contrast that to the last two weeks, where the rate is closer to five percent and I've received three first contacts from women. What the hell memo did I miss?

Since I've not suddenly become boring or less interesting, for lack of a better descriptor, it's something else that's contributing to my suddenly becoming a loser. Actually, I think there are a few factors. First, women have stopped reading profiles, and those who do no longer bother with a computer. So, a profile with any depth (length) will be lost on their phones. (Guys never read profiles, so no change there.) And while mine isn't an epic, it's a solid read. There's also the whole Midwest culture, which seems to value pablum over any sort of edginess. There were two components of my profile that garnered significant attention at home, but have been highlighted by women here as potentially off putting to their fellow flat land women. One had to do with knowing when my partner wanted me to be less than a gentleman, the other was a riff on Johnny Cash, where I said shooting a man in Reno just to watch him die would have been more fulfilling with the right partner. As a marketing professional, I recognize I should position myself to my audience, but this is personal and I refuse to dumb down who I am for Kansas. I'd rather be single and true to myself than date someone provincial enough to be offended by what I wrote.

So, fuck you again, Kansas.
More Kansas Goodness - Concealed Carry Permits
Posted:Jan 5, 2019 12:11 pm
Last Updated:Jan 6, 2019 8:28 pm

Returning to our continuing series on 'The Many Wonderful Ways In Which Kansas Sucks', this entry will tackle handgun concealed carry. Just as I did with the piece on religion and dating, I'll preface by saying this isn't intended to become a debate on gun control. Regardless of what end of the spectrum you fall, your opinion is yours and I respect that. Should someone post a 'guns should be outlawed' response, I will ridicule them for not reading this opening paragraph. Onward...

If I'm allowed to carry a concealed handgun in the state I live, I'll have a carry permit (and have for 25 years). Since many readers have likely never applied for a concealed carry permit (CCW), I'll compare and contrast Kansas with the two other states in which I've held permits, Virginia and Pennsylvania. All three are 'shall issue' states, which means they will issue anyone a carry permit, unless a legitimate reason exists to not do so (i.e. felon, domestic abuse, etc.). In other words, the applicant need not justify the need for a permit (i.e. owns a jewelry store and carries large sums of cash) to receive one.

Rather than prosthelytize on why I hold a carry permit or any of that nonsense, I'll skip right to the processes. For Kansas, it's a long read.

Step 1 - Complete a mandatory 8 or 9 hour class on handgun proficiency and laws, then pass the shooting practical and a written exam (that literally no one was allowed to fail). Cost $99 and a whole Saturday learning where the trigger was. Do your best to not call out the instructor when his claims of speed and accuracy would make him far better than the pro shooters you know (I shot competitively for 15 years, so I know a few; more on that soon). Also, try to not poke fun at the convoluted process, when he explains it (I failed that one).

Step 2 - Have a passport photo taken. Cost $5

Step 3 - Complete application, affix passport photo, and write two different checks, totaling $132.50.

Step 4 - Submit application, checks, and your cert of completion from the class to the local sheriff's office, in person. While there, get fingerprinted by an attractive deputy.

Step 5 - Wait for your notification of approval to arrive in the mail; it was two months to the day, for me.

Step 6 - Take notification letter to local drivers license center and have your picture taken and receive a temporary permit (that looks like a bar bill). Try to not wonder where the passport photo you submitted went to. Cost $16

Step 7 - Wait for your final final permit to arrive in the mail. That only took a little over a week.

All in, you'll invest $250+, in addition to time and fuel. BTW, the permit is good for 4 years.

Let's compare to Pennsylvania and Virginia. They're similar, so I'll run them down in the same process listing.

Step 1 - Fill out form

Step 2 - Take form and check for $35 (give or take) to sheriff's office. Fingerprints all around.

Step 2A - VA requires you to prove some level of proficiency with a gun, but the hurdle is low. I submitted old score sheets from matches I shot.

Step 2D - I also seem to recall that PA wanted a photo as well, last time I renewed there. But it went directly from you to your permit.

Step 3 - Receive permit in mail in around 2 weeks.

Permits are good for 5 years.

Holy fucking shit! One can't help but think that the folks who came up with the Kansas process were both drooling, inbred morons and completely corrupt. So again, welcome to my shit show...refreshments are available in the lobby.
Posted:Dec 29, 2018 8:38 am
Last Updated:Nov 21, 2020 1:21 pm
To me, there aren't many foods that will make me run out in traffic as much as gumbo. I may not be able to get my roux quite as dark as the 134 year old Creole lady, who taught me how to make gumbo. But damn, this latest batch turned out fucking amazing, if I do say so myself

Not bad for a forty something white guy...

1 comment
Vanitas, Vanitatum, et Omnia Vanitas
Posted:Dec 28, 2018 11:59 am
Last Updated:Dec 28, 2018 12:14 pm

Earlier this month, I engaged in an activity that, until recently, would have discounted as a non-starter. speaking of cosmetic surgery. Surely, that sort of thing was the domain only of the vain or insecure. Certainly nothing someone like I would engage in. My 'brand', my value proposition as a person is built on intellect, humor, philanthropy, and being inquisitive about the world around me. I have no for such superficial nonsense. Obviously, something changed my mind.

While the rest of my body remains in line with the number of on it, less actually, my face hasn't. Stress, genetics, who knows, but I feel as though I've aged ten in the past three, and certainly look older than I should. One of those reasons is that I was born with hooded eyelids. I've always noticed them, but in the past five , they seem to have begun a mad dash downward. They finally reached the point where they impacted my vision and frankly, my confidence. So I scheduled an appointment with a surgeon. I knew having them addressed would make me look a bit younger, plus the procedure is covered by insurance. That's a win win in my book. Then, the surgeon explained he could do the lower lids at the same time, for less than if I were to have them done separately. Basically, another $4k to have the bags under my eyes, which had also begun to bother me, disappear. He also noted your brows tend to move downward, as you age. He said it was an extra five minutes per side for him to make an incision and put in a stitch to raise them, so he'd throw that in for free. It was a surprisingly easy decision to make. Look noticeably younger for only $4k? Absolutely.

Had all of this activity been out of pocket, I doubt I'd have ever considered having either of the procedures done. But there it was, all laid out and oh, so easy.

And so, on December 12th, I found myself on an operating table, with a surgeon slicing, dicing, burning, and throwing chemicals on the area around my eyes. Initially, I was a bit freaked, knowing I'd be conscious during the procedure ( quite touchy about my vision), but whatever drug cocktail they pumped into my arm provided a suitable level of calm. Still, I was completely awake. I recall joking around with the surgeon and Larry, the anesthesia guy. At one point, I inquired whether they'd brought in the machine that goes ping. (Monty Python...Google it)

As one can imagine, I'd been less than the ultimate example of pulchritude, post operation (thank me now, for not sharing the pics). It was a week before I could leave the house, confident I'd not scare small (any more than normal). But the swelling and bruising have receded and all that remains is a hint of two black eyes. However, the results are undeniable. While I despise selfies, I've taken a series of them to chronicle my recovery. When I compare recent pictures to the one I took immediately prior to surgery, the results are undeniable. My eyebrows are lifted and the bags under my eyes have all but disappeared. Most incredibly of all my eyelids no longer hang over my eyes.

Putting aside the vanity aspect of the procedures, did they improve my life at all? The answer to that is a resounding 'Hell, yeah!'. The first time I left the house, during the day, where my eyes were perfectly clear and not hazed by ointments, I took a moment, while stopped at a light, to perform a quick assessment of my vision. Holy shit, I can see so much more! I'd reached the point where I felt as though I perpetually had a sun visor on, limiting my vertical field of view, and that visor had disappeared. Prior to the surgery, looking above the horizon required rotating my head, whereas now, I only to look with my eyes. It truly is an amazing improvement.

So, here I am on the rare occasion where my position on a subject has been significantly altered, although I still consider those who have elective cosmetic surgery to be vain. So despite what I've always told myself, it seems I am not without some vanity of my own. And okay with that.
1 comment
Dating Absurdity
Posted:Nov 9, 2018 3:14 pm
Last Updated:Nov 11, 2018 6:47 am
Aside from the rude, dysfunctional, and just plain bonkers people you meeting online dating, there are the flat out dumb, with nothing to say.

If I had a dollar for every opening note I've received consisting solely of 'Hi, how are you?', I don't know how many dollars I'd have but it would be a bunch. In order to head them off, I've included the following in my OK profile:
If you send me a lame 'Hi, how are you?' message, here's your response:
' great! Done with parole and all the paternity tests came back negative. Hoes be tryin' to bleed me dry!'

Of course, I still receive those notes, but I received one today that made my head hurt.

This was on a vanilla dating site, where you are encouraged to display your first name.
They've eliminated usernames and key off your email. So, my first name was clearly displayed on my profile as was her's, which you can see.

I'll just leave this here...
Sexual Preferences and Closed Mindedness
Posted:Oct 29, 2018 4:39 pm
Last Updated:Feb 16, 2019 5:29 pm

Having been away from the online dating scene for a bit, I ventured in over the weekend. I chatted on the phone with one woman last night, who left a bit of an impression. Considering writing about it, that impression clearly wasn't positive. There were positives, though. She was engaging, incredibly smart and knowledgeable across a realm of topics, and funny.

Long story short, we ventured into the topic of sex, where she portrayed herself as insatiable, doing it everywhere at any time. Regaling me with stories of 48 hour fuckfests. Not so bad, right? Except I forgot one of my universal truths I'll share at the end. Because she was being graphic herself, and seemed to enjoy the exchange, I violated one of my rules and waded into the 'higher level of difficulty' portion of the sexual floor routine during the first conversation. This included women enjoying being treated as fuck toys in the bedroom. I've written about this dynamic before in my entry celebrating sluts.

Eventually, she told me that she had no interest in being degraded that way and the concept of degrading a woman during sex was foreign to her. She went so far as to question what kind of women I spent time with that would enjoy such treatment. I responded that the only woman who didn't enjoy that dynamic had some hefty self-esteem issues and couldn't separate in and out of bedroom dynamics. ?They were the same to her. Back to last night, I threw out my personal observation of the more successful, intelligent, and self-assured a woman was, the more likely she wanted to be submissive in the bedroom. Toward the end, she made a comment about how such behavior was out of line (I forget the exact word she used) and asked if I could only get off by degrading women. Then, she stated 'the best sex of my life was during that 48 hour fuckfest, and we never had to resort to that sort of behavior'. Resort to???

That was the proverbial straw... I told her I took exception to her characterization that the power exchange dynamic was in any way abnormal or aberrant. I explained that the most recent partners I had were a VP of HR with a multi billion dollar company, an attorney, a senior policy adviser to the VA House, a university professor, and a psychologist. All very successful and intelligent women and all wanted to be whores for me. Two of them used that word, unsolicited. What she said was in a not so accusatory manner; in fact, we ended the conversation with her indicating she still wanted to meet me. Yeah, I'll get back to you...

There are a lot of sexual activities I don't find to be of interest. Full on BDSM holds little interest to me, but I'd never consider insulting those who partake as aberrant.

While I initially kicked myself for violating my 'save the high level of difficulty' material for later, it's probably good to have exposed this up front.

Finally, this episode became another data point to validate one of my universal truths, which is the more a woman brags about liking sex, wanting sex, and fucking at the drop of a hat, the less varied her sexual experiences have been.

Happy dating, friends.

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