Paul'S PlacE ❗ ⭕❗⭕ ❗⭕
These aggregation of stories,
lampoons and irreverent points of view...
occasionally make sense.
I hope you can share my smile.

Once in a while it's nice to sit down.
(* ©April 2018-21 November Paul P. )
Keywords | Title View | Refer to a Friend |
A Woman... And Her Orgasm... A Sight To See... 😊
Posted:Aug 8, 2019 12:25 pm
Last Updated:Jun 2, 2020 12:46 am
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He had slowly... taken her clothes off. He'd made sure to kiss... every bit, of bare skin... he had exposed. She lay naked, on the bed and waited for him. He was fully clothed and sat down, near her feet.

She spread her legs, as his finger tips, feathered, the edges of her. She sensed her arousal growing, in lunging waves. A tingling, filled her body, with a deep longing - as she thrust her hips forward. He refused her offer and brushed his wrist, along her inner thigh... instead. She could feel the heat... from his hand.

"Oh... for fucks sake ! Touch me there," she shouted, in her mind; almost pleading. A soft moan... escaped, from her lips.

He knew, that blood was flowing... furiously... to that spot of hers. He watched with fascination as it quivered... just a tiny bit. It puckered and twitched, almost as if - it had, a mind of its own. A silky wetness, had pooled, at the opening to her vessel. He played with it. A ribbon of her liquid... formed a thin thread... as he stretched it, away from her.

She could feel herself swelling. THAT part of her, ached... and that pleasurable pain, filled her with anticipation. Her legs began to tremble, as she propped them up, against his shoulders.

He could see her clit draw tightly up against her pelvic bone, and grow firm. The sheath of skin protecting that part of her... had peeled away. She revealed herself to him and he rewarded her. He kneeled forward and with a soft lick of his tongue, watched her reaction. She threw her head back, deep, into the pillow.

"Oh my God. Yes! Continue!" she thought.

She felt, the volcanic heat of his mouth, wrap itself around, that button of hers. Then... she felt fingers... slide inside her. Stars filled her closed eyes, as sparkles tickled her brain. Her hips, thrust towards him again, as she clutched his head tightly, against her.

His long fingers, magically reached a spot ... hidden within her. He massaged it, with deft efficiency. "I won't last long," she thought... as she moaned again.

"She won't last long," he thought to himself, as he increased the speed and intensity of his thrusts. His tongue played expertly with her. He could feel her whole body tense and he knew.

She could feel herself giving up. She surrendered herself, completely, to him and to those familiar feelings. They rushed towards her, in wave after wave of increasing pleasure. She moaned again... and bit her lip.

He knew she was peaking. He would bring her over the edge, with one last swirl of his fingers; one last lick, with his tongue.

Her orgasm was intense, as she uttered a deep growl and released a loud moan. Her legs closed like a vice grip, around his head. She pushed his face, even tighter into her. Her hips bucked... high, off the bed.

He managed to pull his head away, while keeping his fingers inside her. He could see the cycle, of rhythmic contractions, as her vaginal muscles, squeezed his fingers. Her sticky fluid... flowed out of her... and down his hand. She gasped for air... as he, continued to ply his digits... gently... inside her.

Eventually... she opened her eyes; out of breath... and flushed with colour. She grasped his head and pulled him to her... and kissed him... passionately. She could taste herself, on his lips... as she smiled slyly and spoke...

"Take your fucking clothes off. It's your turn..."

Have you ever had an orgasm? Or given one?

Bonus Question : How's your summer going?

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One Thousand Five Hundred Reasons... THAT Boat... Was Sexy... 😊
Posted:Aug 6, 2019 12:08 pm
Last Updated:Aug 29, 2020 5:48 pm
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Life ... is where you find it, right? I found an interesting, slice of it... down by the marina, last Saturday morning.

It was sunny. A few clouds in the sky. I pulled into my favorite spot, slid out of my car and stood, by the edge of the wharf. I inhaled, that invigorating fishy scent... of fresh, lake air. It always, soothed my soul. The waves were timid and the breeze was warm. Nearby, a cluster of hopeful fishermen, sat in folding chairs and clutched their rods. The horizon, was dotted with tiny sail boats, fluttering about. And behind me, a gaggle of sailors, scurried, to ready their crafts.

Brian and Linda were working on their 2005, 'Sea Ray' - securing it to the trailer. Theirs - was a sleek, white and blue vessel, built for water skiing and skimming, along calm waters. Brian, had just sold it. He'd taken 'her' out ... one, last time. He wiped the chrome rail... as he spoke to me. "I'm gonna miss this baby. She was never good, in rough water though. Her keel is too flat. We'd bounce off the waves, like a rubber ball, off cement," he laughed.

As we stood there - 'One Armed Warren' - drove up. His right arm, was lost in a bizarre, boating accident... many years ago. I never got, the full story. He slowly, backed up his truck, down the loading ramp. The trailer, carried his 'Larson Bowrider'. That boat, was a sea worthy, twenty five foot beast. "I've taken her , on the Atlantic. She'll handle any wave," he proudly boasted to me, once.

It's always a bit tricky, to unload a boat, so Brian and I... offered our help. As Warren slipped the stern of his boat, into the water, and unhitched it, Brian called out to him. "Warren... Ya gonna start the motor, before you release? Test it?"

"Nah. Runs fine Brian. Just came back from the Florida Keys. She'll be good."

I don't know much, about boats. Brian does. He looked at me and shrugged his shoulders. With the next lurch of the trailer... Warren's boat... floated gently, onto the water. Brian and I held the ropes, as Waren jumped in, to start the engine. Yes...! You predicted correctly. It wouldn't start.

After another futile, twenty minutes... it still, wouldn't start. Warren, hopped out of the 'captain's chair' and onto the dock.

"Sea water in the engine. I thought I flushed it. But something's messing, with the fuel pump... or filter. Can't reach it, without dismantling half the engine. I'm fucked... for today," he declared, rather annoyed with himself.

I could see Eileen (Warren's wife), trudging towards us, from the marina clubhouse. "What's up Warren?" she called. "Don't tell me - we're not going out?"

"No... The fuel pump is messed up," he replied.

Then... we ALL heard, that familiar sound, rolling in from the far end of the lake.

Twin engines roared, from about a mile away. The 'cigarette boat', flew across the lake. It threw a huge wall of water and misty spray, high into the air... and far behind... in its wake. It was Barry and his - fifteen hundred horsepower - monster! The music (blasting through his speakers)... preceded his entry, to the side of the wharf. His engines idled, with that intimidating... deep... low growl. Heads turned. I could feel my body vibrating... as he finally, killed them (the engines)... and floated towards us.

"Hey guys. What's up?" Barry called out, as he waved. We shared with him, the 'short version' of our morning. And before we knew it, we were all climbing into... Barry's sexy, racing sloop. The engines, rumbled to life. The sound system clicked in and the sub woofers, teased our heartbeats. We gripped the seats and then... ripped across the blue waves at (what felt like), a hundred miles per hour.

Sometime later... after the wind and the brilliant sun, had completely, numbed our bodies... and the music, had totally numbed our ears; we all sat there, in the marina lounge, watching the boats slip in and out of the bay. Drinks were soon - going to be numbing ... our brains.

I'm not a fan, of big boats and motorized water craft. When I'm sitting peacefully, on a chair, by the shore, I find they're intrusive and obnoxiously LOUD. Not to mention, their impact, on the environment.

But damn... they're FUN ... when you're on one! Who wouldn't, enjoy it? Or... is the love of speed... just a 'guy thing' ?


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Guitar Blues... 😎 Or Hunting Down... A Sexual Craving...🤔
Posted:Aug 1, 2019 12:34 pm
Last Updated:Aug 10, 2019 4:08 pm
I met that famous 'Chicago blues' - singer and guitarist - Muddy Waters , once... (in a tiny bar), in 'old town' , Montreal. It was nineteen eighty two... on a really chilly, November night.

That bar, was a dark, grundgy... beaten down place. Thick, grey stone walls, supported wide, wooden beams, while a black painted ceiling - tried to hide the cracks. Smoke filled the room and lay thick, above our heads. It hovered, in billowing waves, through the white, spot lights. About fifty people, sat, around small, wobbly wooden tables and listened, to a guitarist and his three piece band - blow the blues ... right off, the planet.

I was surprised to find myself, sitting at a spot, right in front of the stage. I watched sweat, form beads, on the forehead of that guitarist, as he sang. I thought, he might have looked at me, a couple of times, and smiled. It was a sad smile... as he played, in front of, that half empty, room. None the less - it was an epic set! A bunch, of special minutes - etched forever, into my brain. I left, after that first set.

Many years later, I found out who he was. I realized, I'd missed out, on a world icon, of music. But, I was and ... and definitely, impatient. And... there were no women, in that club... where he played.

There were no women, anywhere I went... on that night. None I met, at least. Well... there was one ; but she was, waaay... outta my league! Yeah... I just bounced, from place, to place and club to club... aimlessly looking. When I think about it now... I know. I should have stayed, at that tiny grundgy bar, in 'Old Montreal' and enjoyed, that second set. McKinley Morganfield ( Muddy Waters), never played in this city, again. He died in April, nineteen eighty three.

Sometimes, ya gotta take what life gives you. more patient these days... You?

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Sexual Addiction...😮 A True Affliction... Or Just A Fake Ailment... 🤔
Posted:Jul 29, 2019 1:19 pm
Last Updated:Oct 29, 2019 1:01 pm
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Addictions ... they can ruin lives. So when *FrankeeZee confided in me and admitted he had a dependancy issue... I was concerned. When he told me he was addicted to sex and was going into rehab - I told him, to fuck off .

Now... before you start judging me, ya have to understand something. I rarely , believe FrankeeZee - regardless of what he says. He's fooled me or... just stretched the truth, so many times before. I mean... let's f.ace it - is sexual addiction , an actual ailment?

Heroin, alcohol... anti depressants - I get it! Addicted t.o the pursuit of orgasms , with the opposite sex? Highly questionable - in my opinion. I decided, t.o read up on it.

Turns o.ut, some psychologists agree with me. It IS , a fake addiction. More of an obsession than a dependancy. On the other hand... a fair n.umber of doctors - certify t.hat 'sex addiction', is a serious problem.

FrankeeZee went to a well known, beach resort, 'rehab camp' and remained there, for four weeks. He came back last Saturday. I picked him up at the airport and immediately, noticed a change. FrankeeZee was sooo calm; so relaxed. He was (I thought) , a changed man .

"Ya know Paul... I feel, like a changed man," he declared. "I'm grateful, I was able to get treatment."

"Good to have you back Frankee," I replied, while giving my buddy a strong hug.

We sat sat there in the airport lounge... drinking coffee and just catching up on things... the way friends would. FrankeeZee fiddled with his phone and pushed it towards me.

"Here Paul. This is a picture of the rehab people , w.ho were with me. Ya know what? We became ... r.eally really close," Frankee admitted, as he choked up.

I looked at Frankee's picture. It was a shot, of about, t.en o.f them, on the beach. FrankeeZee had his arms around the waist, of a woman. His monstrous hard-on , cast a large shadow, along his shorts... as he grinned, into the lens. I looked at FrankeeZee... and blinked.

"So... I guess... they kicked you outta camp, right Frankee?" I asked the question, but I already knew, the answer.

"Y.ep ... they kicked me o.ut Me... and that l.ady . Hey... I woulda made it. I woulda graduated. But that woman and I, ended up, being tied together ... in the t.hree legged races, on Family Day . Fucked things up... completely. And then... I had a relapse . Many relapses... a.ctually ," FrankeeZee replied, while smiling... sadly.

I sat there and shook my head. I had t.o admit... that the 'Rehab Lady' , in Frankee's picture, was h.ot! I imagine, it was like putting a bottle of scotch, next t.o an alcoholic. Let's f.ace it - unless an addict wants t.o change, do they have any hope, of rehabilitation? Any chance at all?

FrankeeZee's phone buzzed - incoming t.ext. I looked at the image on the screen - it was that , Rehab Lady .

FrankeeZee... had NO chance.

Do you think sex , can be an addiction?
What things (besides A F F) are you 'addicted'

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Ever Been... Wrapped Up In Your Thoughts... And Sat There... Naked 🤔
Posted:Jul 26, 2019 8:31 am
Last Updated:Aug 29, 2020 6:28 pm
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Have you ever been, wrapped up in your thoughts? Have you ever sat there (perhaps naked, like I was), in a favorite chair or one that's comfortable... and wondered; What if, things would be different, today?

I'm not talking about your regrets or about, second guessing yourself. I'm not talking about, beating yourself up, over some decision you made. I'm just talking about, different . Today!

Different house. Different car. Different friends. A different city or town and maybe even, different country? Perhaps a different or cat or... can I say - ? A different lover, wife or husband. I don't know. I'm not sure... exactly. You know what I mean?

I'm just talking, about different . Like asking her , if she'd... untie these ropes.

Ever have one of those days where... you just THINK too much?
🤔 😀
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Things Men Can Do...😊 That Women... Can Only Dream Of... 😮
Posted:Jul 22, 2019 12:27 pm
Last Updated:Jul 25, 2019 8:09 pm
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Do you recall a recent blog post (by superbjversion2), titled - 'Penis Envy'? I did... as I stood there, holding my dick. I thought hard; about women and the answer, to THAT, question. I wasn't positive, if all ladies envied, what I held. But, I had a feeling...

I was dining, at an Italian restaurant, in Montreal's east end. It was Sunday afternoon and (as things went along), I stepped into the men's room : it was, a fancy place. I could tell... as soon as I cozied up to the urinal and pulled out my little friend. Looking down (as men are apt to do), I noticed a mound of crushed ice (piled ), the bottom of that portal. THAT'S how we men, recognize - we're in a classy spot!

There's a certain... cool, freshness, about the whole event ; when ice is involved. Then of course, there are those little games, men can play; as we melt, tiny tunnels, or spell our names, into that frozen, slush. Yet... it was when I looked up, that I truly ... applauded, the style of that space. 

Above the urinal, was a wide screen TV . Roger Federer and Novak Djokovic, were playing in the Wimbledon Finals , tennis match. There I was, pissing into ice - watching tennis history, unfold.

Does it get, any better, than that ? (Picture me, with a sheepish grin.)

I had no idea, that the tennis match, would last, five hours . I was a little tired, standing there... at the end. The restaurant staff, refreshed the ice for me... twice. 

So.... would women, have enjoyed their time, in that bathroom? Do they have 'penis envy' - as Freud suggested? I don't know. More than likely, they just have - a very serious... craving ... for one!

But I betcha, everyone (here reading), wants one of those wide screen TVs and a bucket of ice in their home bathroom, right? 🤔 And perhaps, a mini fridge, in the corner... with a microwave oven - over by the wall. Oh and... throw in some mood lighting and a decent sound system... 😊

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A Fly On The Wall... Watching - Instant Karma... 😉
Posted:Jul 18, 2019 12:26 pm
Last Updated:Sep 1, 2020 4:30 pm
A fly on the wall... or... a 'Paul' on the curb? They both... see... and hear things. The fly, has wings. Paul (that's me)... waited... for the valet, to deliver his car.

Standing next to me, was a handsome, well dressed, young man. He nodded and smiled. We both waited, for our cars. I'd just stepped out of that 'Thai' restaurant, behind me. The meal was fabulously authentic, if you know what I mean. It was... salty and sweet... and sour and spicy. Really spicy! But I liked it like that.

An attractive young woman, draped in a fitted black dress, sauntered closer and joined our queue. She flashed a radiant smile and gave another valet, her ticket. He... scurried off.

That, young man (the one next to me), turned and spoke to that, young woman.

"Great meal, wasn't it? This place deserves its reputation... no?" he remarked.

She nodded her head. "I thought it was fantastic. I wish my boyfriend had felt the same. He didn't like it. I blew a wad of cash here - its his birthday. And he's in the bathroom, throwing up... half the bill," she replied while laughing. "He lied to me, about liking spicy food," she'd stopped laughing. A tear... propped itself, into a corner of one of her dark, smokey eyes.

Taken aback... by her honesty and vulnerability, the young man spoke again; "Don't feel bad. My girlfriend, is doing the EXACT, same thing. She's in the lady's room. She couldn't stand , this place. She never stopped complaining."

The young woman, wiped the tear from her eye and laughed nervously. "Really? I loved the meal. I made reservations, months ago. I had to save a few weeks. He told me, he wants to try different foods. No matter where we go... he fucking hates it."

"He sounds exactly , like my girlfriend. I can't take her anywhere," the young man replied. "Maybe... we should hook up... your guy and my girl ," he continued while laughing. "You should have heard what she told me, when I asked her to go sky diving with me..." and he laughed again.

The young woman perked up and spoke. "Sky diving? Are you serious? I'd love to go sky diving. I've been asking my boyfriend when WE can go. He told me; 'When Hell freezes over', " she shrugged her shoulders and smiled sadly.

And with that tiny shrug, the conversation ended. There were no 'goodbyes'. The valets had arrived. Their dates, stepped out of the restaurant and into, their respective cars.

I stood there and then watched something, completely unexpected.

That handsome young man -bumped - the car, of THAT beautiful young woman. It was a nudge, that was hardly worth noticing - but I did. So did, both drivers. He immediately, opened his door and began apologizing profusely. She, was already walking toward her rear bumper. The young man, promised to pay for any damage he had caused. There was none , to see.

I watched, as he scribbled his name and number on a piece of paper and gave it to her. She touched his hand and took it from his fingers... and folded it, into her purse. I watched, as they smiled at each other. And then... they drove away.

I stood at the curb and realized what I'd just witnessed. Damn...! I'm not sure, if I would've had the imagination (or balls), to try THAT.

The valet spoke. "Sir. Sir...? Your car..."

I wondered... what it would be like, to be that fly on the wall... next time, those two meet.

How did YOU meet your ; wife, husband, lover, girlfriend, boyfriend, dentist... or dance instructor?

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Being A Famous A F F Celebrity Blogger...😎 Is Not Easy... It Is Hard... 🤔
Posted:Jul 15, 2019 10:44 am
Last Updated:Sep 1, 2020 4:51 pm
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Being a famous - A F F Celebrity Blogger - is not easy. I'm constantly being recognized and hounded for autographs and selfies... wherever I go. Take last weekend...

Now I'll admit... I don't really mind. I mean... if I can help motivate someone, to achieve their life goals, then so be it. As a role model (for some), I am always aware, of the standard I'm setting. My "dick pics" (for example) - are for Friends only! So... I sat there in the restaurant, taking tiny bites of food, wiping my mouth, quickly. I wasn't at all surprised, when THEY, approached me.

Their cell phone cameras were at the ready; paper and pens in hand. I put my knife and fork down, in anticipation of the inevitable gawking. I expected their gushing requests, for proof and confirmation - of their brush, with a. r.eal, live, superstar... and famous person . Then... to my complete surprise, they walked right by, MY table and trudged quickly, to the group seated behind me.

"What the fuck?"; were my first thoughts... until I turned around and realized who, was sitting behind me.

He was leaning on his elbows, a mouthful of grilled salmon sticking outta his mouth. Tartar sauce clung to the edges of his lips and his fingers were smeared with butter. It was Captain Kirk -William Shatner. 'Comic-Con' was in town at the Convention Center and he was there for the festivities.

Hmmm... I Waited until that silly cluster of people, had left Captain Kirk's table, before I turned back in my chair and asked him to sign my napkin.

Never presume! Life will always surprise you with the unexpected. I wore my sunglasses for the balance of my meal. I hoped no one, would recognize me. No one , did.

Are there any valid role models, out there... these days?

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I Was Relieved... 😊 When She Came... 😃
Posted:Jul 11, 2019 12:14 pm
Last Updated:Oct 27, 2019 11:51 am
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The incessant buzz , of an air conditioner and the uninterrupted rattle , of the Coke machine - had numbed my brain. A beep warned me, my phone, was slowly dying. I closed it. The charger, was in the trunk of my car. My car, was in the repair shop. The repair shop waiting room, was where I sat. I sat there ... alone .

I looked around. An assortment of magazines, were scattered about, on a table. I picked one up ( 'Popular Science' ) and randomly, turned to an article ; 'Electric Cars... The Future Is Coming'. It was written in "Alrighty... Let's try something else," I thought, as I picked up another.

'Time Magazine'... "Ahhh... they always, have stuff, that's interesting." I flipped to a piece titled ; 'Will Trump, Beat Hillary?'. Somehow... I already knew the answer, to that question. There was a dusty old phone book, on one of the shelves. I hadn't read a phone book in years, but I recalled the plot. I let it be. At that moment, she came ... into my waiting room and sat down. I was relieved... Someone to talk with... perhaps?

She was attractive... and smiled brightly at me. I smiled back and welcomed her, with an original question ;"Fixing your car?"

"Beklager. Jeg snakker ikke engelsk. Jeg er fra Norge," she replied while raising her hands and furrowing her eyebrows.

She didn't speak English. I don't speak, Norwegian.

I sat there, almost alone... and waited.

I counted... the fucking grimy, greasy, faded yellow... floor tiles. Five hundred and ninety four...

Where are your WORST places, to wait? 🤔

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Drake Played... 🎵At FrankeeZee's Pool Party...😎
Posted:Jul 9, 2019 12:14 pm
Last Updated:Nov 23, 2020 11:42 pm
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The ice trays were empty. I peered into the freezer. "Frankee...! " I yelled. "You're outta ice?"

"Paul... why dont'cha get some," he yelled back, from down in the bowels, of the play room. "Order more pizza too." I barely heard him, above the din of Drake, singing - "God's Plan".

FrankeeZee, was throwing his summer pool party. It was five in the morning. Can you imagine the carnage?

Walking into the dining room (to search for my cell phone), I stopped in my tracks. "Hey Frankee!" I yelled again. "One of your goats, is eating the curtains. Someone, opened the pen again." No answer from Frankee. His three goats, maintained the lawn... in case you were wondering. My phone, must have been, in one of the bedrooms. I trudged upstairs and pushed the first door open.

There lay, Silvia and Doug; entwined... and sleeping - on the bed. They were supposedly , separated. I guess, they'd reconciled. No phone. I stepped into another room. No phone there either... although, I found a second goat. She ... looked up at me and continued, to munch the potato chips, spilled on the floor. I searched the other rooms, without success. Down... and outside, to the pool. I might have left my phone, by the barbeque.

Soft lights... shimmered, beneath the mirror calm, turquoise water. There were a pair, of white panties, resting at the bottom; Linda's... I think. Guests were sprawled, on deck chairs. Some were talking, others sleeping. Bill was passed out, floating in the deep end... on one of those big, inflatable swans. Still no phone. I shuffled back, into the living room. The doorbell rang. I opened the door - almost expecting, to greet the police.

Standing there, was FrankeeZee's neighbour, Steve. He was wearing his 'Golden State Warriors' pyjamas... and a sour look on his face.

"I found Frankee's fricken goat, eating my compost heap." He handed me the rope leash, with a goat attached.

"Thanks," I replied. "Hey Steve... would you happen to have any ice?"

"Sure. Come on over Paul. By the way... tell Frankee, to stop playing Drake, or I will go down there and break, his fucking stereo."

I nodded... knowingly. "Steve... How's your wife? I haven't seen anyone, throw up THAT much, since highschool. She OK?"

Steve grunted and turned, towards his house. I followed him, picked up the ice and walked back, into Frankee's home. And there it was - a pink phone... IN ... the kitchen sink. It wasn't mine , but it worked! I was just ending, the 'pizza call', when FrankeeZee walked in... carrying a chicken, under his arm.

"Wow! What a party Paul. And no cops this year... so far."

I looked at FrankeeZee and blinked. The chicken clucked. "Steve wants you to stop playing Drake. Oh... and where's Debra? I found, her phone."

"Steve's a sore looser," Frankee replied laughing. "Debra? She's sittin' next to the chicken coup, drinkin' a slushy and talkin', with my chickens."

Yep... Frankee knew, how to throw a bash.

FrankeeZee is having another party (later in the summer)... as soon as he repairs the damage from this one.

Do you recall, your last 'Epic' Party?

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Rear View Mirrors... Sex Toys 🥒... and Traffic Tips...😮
Posted:Jun 26, 2019 11:58 am
Last Updated:Oct 28, 2019 9:21 am
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I don't have anything, hanging from the rear view mirror, in my car. But SHE did.

I understand why men, dangle wedding garters; they caught a trophy. Cd's...? You've failed, at burning one. I've never had beads, necklaces or feathers - gracing my sight lines. I haven't thought of attaching a 'dream catcher' or a set of keys. My headphones, always have a resting place; rather than flopping, side to side, in front of my face. Religious pictures or symbols; no thanks! I DID... try that green Christmas tree, air freshener - once. It freshened for a while... until it didn't. So the other day, there I was... moored, in the morning mess, of the freeway frenzy. And... well...

You know, how you peer into the cars beside you, when you're bored? That's what I did. I was, surprised, by what I saw. Hanging from HER rear view mirror... was a dildo . It was bright pink. And it proudly bounced, up and down, to the rhythm, of the bumps in the road.

I wondered what she might have been thinking. Was it a joke? Perhaps it served as inspiration and motivation for her. Was it a cherished gift, from a close friend?

My eyes were drawn to that shlong and its brown haired owner. She was certainly attractive enough. I caught her eye and grinned. She smiled back. My window was lowered and so was hers. You know me, I'm the shy type. I pointed and spoke, as our cars lingered, at a dead stop. "You're not distracted, by the view?"

She laughed and replied; "Not at all. It brings me good luck."

Traffic nudged forward and began to merge into one lane. I motioned to her. She waved and scooted her car in front of me. "Ahhh..." then it dawned on me. "She uses IT, to get ahead in traffic jams. Smart move," I thought.

Tomorrow... I'm stopping in at the Sex Shop and picking myself up a - 'Fleshlight'. I'll hang it on my rear view mirror. We'll see, if THAT gets me through traffic, any quicker. Can't be worse than it is. Heck... if I get horny I can... uh... never mind.

I let another car, squeeze in front of me. She... was a cute red head. She waved. I sheepishly waved back.

So... Even if ya don't drive...
Ya think women have an advantage, when it comes to moving about - in traffic? 🤔

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Sex... Lies... And The Missing Chicken... 🐔🤔
Posted:Jun 24, 2019 1:22 pm
Last Updated:Jul 10, 2019 8:08 pm
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I told my a small lie the other day. She texted me, and asked what I was up to. I didn't feel comfortable replying; "I'm on a 'world famous sex site', perving naked women." So instead... I told her; "I'm making chicken parmesan." Which was GOING to be true... soon enough. It reminded me of the times, adults in my tribe, had fibbed. Were they trying to protect me?

My grandparents emmigrated from Europe and tried to emulate their rural lifestyle, in urban Montreal. So of course... they bred rabbits, in a pen - in their backyard. Didn't everyone?

My brother and I were very young. We didn't understand, that whole 'sex thing'. Every month or so, we'd see new baby bunnies, hopping about, in that fenced in enclosure. We'd be told, that a friendly neighbour, had brought them as gifts. Come to think of it... it was kinda strange, to see that fat male bunny, always flopped, on top of the female bunny. She never seemed to mind.

We had (what I now realize, was), rabbit stew, quite often... at Granny's place. She would tell us, that it was chicken. What did WE know? It tasted like chicken. They soon got rid of the rabbit farm.
Grandma and Grandpa then diversified... into chickens.

I'll always remember that FIRST one. My granny brought home, a live chicken, from the market.
She put the 'poulet', under a clothes hamper and told my brother and me, that there was a chicken, in the basement. Well... can you imagine, our excitement, when we ran down those stairs, and actually saw, a live chicken? My grandfather asked us, if we wanted to pet that bird. What do you think we said? "Of course!" 

Twenty minutes later, my grandpa, was still chasing, that fricken chicken, around his work bench. My brother and I were laughing so hard, we could hardly supervise, the chase. He wasn't amused!

A few days later.... we no longer found, our pet chicken downstairs. When we asked grandma about 'Bob' (that was his name), she replied;

"The chicken escaped!" 

We were sad. With my four year old mind, I didn't think of asking; how he got out, or where he might have run to. There were two sets of doors to open and they lived, on a six lane boulevard. How did he turn the door handles? A better question, might have been - why did he cross the road?

That night, grandma served rabbit stew ; or so she said. That rabbit, tasted great. And surprisingly... a lot, like chicken.

To this day, I have no idea where.... that silly chicken went to. D'ja think it's still roamin' the streets of Montreal... somewhere?

Yep... little lies and tiny deceptions. All meant to protect young minds. I somehow doubt, today's have that same buffer. Or do they need one? I was pretty open about everything, with my . Except the thing about THAT sex site, last week.

She'll figure it out one day. Or not. Doesn't really matter, does it? Maybe SHE'S ... on one.

Sugar coated lies... did you tell them?
Ever notice, how many things taste like chicken?

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Throw Me a Party🎉... When I'm Dead and Gone 😄... I'll Bring The Music 🎶 🤗
Posted:Jun 21, 2019 10:56 am
Last Updated:Jun 10, 2020 6:04 pm
Note : A F F is deleting words in the text. Please be patient.

Last Sunday, I spent the afternoon at the cemetery. It was a hot and balmy, June day. Fat, grey squirrels, scurried amongst the gravestones. A clear blue sky and a lush green vista... framed my view. The scent of apple blossoms and lilac, filled the air. I stood there... amongst the dead. It was quiet and peaceful. But I was there, for a purpose.

There is, a Christian Orthodox tradition, 'Trinity Sunday' (celebrated eight weeks after Easter, on the 'Julian Calender' ), where ALL the departed, are honored with a gravesite ceremony. It's presided by family and friends and a priest. The prayer and incense infused, 'Thurible' blessing is brief - but it brings people together.

When my grandmother was alive, we'd all go back to her home and have a simple meal. The adults would recall stories and share memories and drink shots of vodka. They'd spend time laughing and reminiscing. As a ... I'd just look forward, to eating Grandma's roasted chicken and garlic mashed potatoes. Since my grandmother passed away, WE all just go, our separate ways... home. Kinda sad, when I think about it. But what I saw, as I drove through the cemetery... struck me. Some people - still get it RIGHT !

I was heading towards the Main Gates, when I passed a cluster of people, spread out by a gravestone. Blankets on the ground, marked a crawl way, for the tiny toddlers, too small to walk. The women sitting there, doled out bread and meats and cheeses and... filled up plastic glasses, with wine. Younger played round the monuments, chasing each other, giggling. The men stood by, telling stories, while they laughed and toasted in the air, with arms raised.

Ya know... I think that's the way, I'd like to be remembered. When I'm dead and gone, throw me a fucking PARTY... by my gravesite. Bring on the food and wine and vodka. Oh and... put the music up, FULL blast. It'll be tough, for me to hear the tunes!

Damn... I thought of something; "They better not play any fricken disco ." I'll start working, on that music mix. I wonder, what my first song would be?

Ya think you'd want, or deserve, a party in your honor, when you're gone?
What would be, your first tune? 🤔

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