Another day, Another Itch

I'm Seriously having an itch to change my job.
Day in and day out, I do the same fucking thing and talk to the same fucking people. Such monotony is killing me. If there’s any consolation, my boredom brings out the creativity in me. Like one time, I thought about what to do with the bitchy co-worker who’s got nothing better to do than babble about her cynical issues. I mean, she talks on the phone for hours, and with an annoying loud voice that even the sound of popping popcorn in the kitchen is overshadowed. Should I strangle her neck with that telephone cord that she uses on her conference calls? Or Should I hit her head with a stapler at least fifty times until I see blood come out of her face?
Anyway, despite the “art” in my ideas, I refuse to take a dip in such office idiosyncrasies, plus I am pretty much stable in holding my violent tendencies. So I chose to sulk in my own cube and bite my own fingers until end of business day, which to my surprise was oddly amusing despite the peculiarity. I was actually quite entertained.
When I got home today, I realized that I am no longer happy with my job. I think it’s time for me to move somewhere (maybe Ohio? Haha). I mean, work should be fun right? I browsed through job search websites and found an opening in the auto/truck industry that I think is quite suitable for me. The job description states that anyone with strong stamina may apply and since I don’t consider myself a weakling, I thought it would be nice to give it a shot.
And so I did.
There were no interviews of some sort, only a physical exam to test if I’m fit for the job. The HR department decided to take videos and photos of my exam, and I was glad to have found one on the company website. I think I really knocked their socks, but so far I got no word yet whether I got the job or not. For now, I just want to share my picture during the exam, click here.Wish me luck everyone

Got Nothing-HNT

White Line Fever-Dare

Ah yes, life on the ol’ highway! Be it a casual ride in the country side, a family vacation, or a way of life. There is nothing better than getting behind the wheel and hitting the open road. Well, almost nothing.
Just as I was about to give up completely on the whole “Truth or Dare” craze that took off quickly, but fizzled out even quicker, a Blogger who requested to remain anonymous came through on one that I had forgotten about. Her dare is basically self explanatory. Some of the details were left out, but hell, I’ll take what I can get.
So I will bid farewell to the “Truth or Dare” weekly postings. I will need to find something else to keep you all entertained. Maybe at some point I will post the “truths and the dares” but for now, give a round of applauds to anonymous (who by the way visits this site regularly). Since this is as much your site as it is mine, tell me what you wanna read or that you’d like to see more of.

Appetite for Destruction

“You get nothing for nothing If that’s what you do Turn around bitch I got a use for you Besides you ain’t got nothing better to do And I’m bored”
I hadn’t listened to “Appetite for Destruction” in years. Probably one of the most kick ass heavy rock albums of its time. I sat there and stared out of the window at thirty five thousand feet and relived the music. I listened to the album in my own world there on the last minute flight out of Detroit Metro.
It was late Friday night when I got the call. It was from an old dear friend of mine, Jason, who I hadn’t heard from in over a decade. I was shocked and excited as I sat there trying to figure out why and how he had found me way out here. My joy and happiness soon ended as he explained the reason for the call. Jason explained that he and others had been searching for me most of the week. Finally one of them drove to Las Vegas and tracked down my cousin Teri. She gave them my contact info. Our good friend and my once best friend had passed away from a long battle. Joe had been sick most of his life, yet if he would have taken better care of himself he could have lived into his sixties or beyond. The funeral was Saturday afternoon.
It was the late eighties and the four of us we inseparable. We all came from very different backgrounds, but you would have thought that we were family. The four of us were in a band. A fairly successful band and we all had high expectations of making it big. In a time where rock was being replaced by alternative, we all still lived by the motto “Sex, drugs and rock n roll”, literally. Sporting the long hair and the attitude we would head off almost every evening to play somewhere in the greater Southern California area. We played along the bars and clubs on the strip in Hollywood when they would have us or basically when there were no up and coming alternative bands headlining. We played the great gigs and the dives. The summer before our senior year we actually got signed on a promotion thing where we played the Pacific North west. All up through California, Oregon and Washington. We were actually on our way, or so we thought until hitting Washington, Seattle in particular. They would not tolerate the rock. Nirvana ruled although we had yet to know or ever hear about anything called Nirvana.
Our last year in school the gigs grew in size and distance we’d have to travel to get to them. The partying became more intense and the evenings grew into early mornings and sometimes late afternoons where we would clean up a bit, sober up a bit and head off to the next location. Joe and I considered ourselves the creative piece of the band as we both wrote and co-wrote all of the songs. Joe and I had known each other since diapers. Yet even in the ever so early stages of our life long dream of being rock stars, between the drugs, parties and chicks our egos where getting in the way. The friendship grew apart and we struggled to act like we were friends. Some days were better than others, but we had to stick to the dream. We cut a demo album and radio was actually giving it some playtime. That was rare because there were several hundred bands coming up at that time. There was talk that a then semi major label was interested in us. Jason and Erik were growing weary from the constant bickering and power struggle between Joe and me. I can remember my last time on stage with the band. It wasn’t fun. I felt like shit from the lack of eating and all of the speed and alcohol that had kept us going like the energizer bunny. After that night I turned my back and walked away from the band, the music and my dream. But I also walked away from my best friends. I immediately hit a recruiter and joined the Army. The only other thing I wanted to do besides play music, was to see the world and the only thing I knew how to do was write and play the guitar. Joe was furious and devastated. Jason and Erik soon followed suit. Joe went on to have a brief moment of fame in a sort of rock, punk, kinda rap thing. After that I hear he went down hill fast. I had talked to the others now and then soon after joining the Army but when I shipped out overseas, I left it all behind.
I sat there looking out of the window. My best friend was gone. He took with him the dream. It’s funny, as long as there were us four, even all of these years later, the dream was still alive.
“It’s gonna bring you down – HA”

Flesh 4 Fantasy-HNT

I couldn’t leave her, and she was in no shape to make it to wherever it was she needed to go on her own. Here I was with this beautiful girl propped up against me. I had been eyeing her all evening. I saw her boyfriend or whom I assumed was her boyfriend not only making out with some skank on the dance floor earlier, but I also watched him walk out the door and leave with her. I approached this beauty to break the news to her that her ride might have just left, but she apparently already knew. She explained how he was a dick head, as the tears ran down her face. As she vented, I took a good look at her. I guessed her age to be around 22, early twenties for sure. I couldn’t believe that the guy left this lovely girl for the infestation that he took off with. Either way, there I stood wondering what to do next. The music thumped around us. “Can I take you somewhere, give you a ride”, I asked? She looked up at me with her big beautiful eyes and boldly told me that she was coming home with me. Not exactly, in this case home was in another state, but my room was steps away as we departed “Club Safari” which was conveniently connected to the Palm Gardens Marriott there in Palm Beach Florida.
The elevator door opened and we stepped in. I checked out her ass as she entered first. I must be ten years her senior I thought to myself as I pushed “7” and the doors closed. She turned to me, again with those big beautiful eyes gazing into mine and places her hands on each side of my face and pulled me in. The kiss was one of the most passionate kisses that I have had to date. I melted to the touch of her lips upon mine. The heat from her lips radiated and flushed across my face. Something else was radiating inside of my pants. The elevator ride seemed an eternity, as our mouths became one and our tongues intertwined around each other. The car came to a stop at my floor and at the same time we gasped air in and exited the elevator. When we got to my door I fetched the plastic key card from my rear pocket. I turned to tell her that this was not my routine, and I had no ulterior motives for asking her if she needed a ride. I never got a word out. Again her hands pressed each side of my face gently and another grandiose kiss sent shivers up and down my spine and blood flowing to my cock. She pulled her lips away, still holding my head. Staring intensely into my eyes she said, “I want you to take me inside and fuck me. Will you fuck me”?
I led her by the hand into my dimly lit room. As we neared the bed, she giggled and pushed me down upon it. Lying on top of me she felt right. That feeling when two people are just the right size that their bodies fit perfectly within one another. That was what I was feeling as she unbuttoned my shirt and exposed my bare chest. She bent her head down as she began placing soft wet kisses upon me, which quickly turned into her tongue slivering like a snake along my skin, leaving a warm wet trail behind it. She teased at my nipple as she nibbled softly, holding it hostage in between her teeth. She smelled sweet and fresh and her skin tasted ripe. “How long had it been since I experienced someone so young, so alive?” I thought to myself. My cock throbbed beneath the fabric of my slacks and underwear. I knew that it wanted out and as I watched her molest my chest with her tongue, I couldn’t wait to be deep inside of her.
On her way down she skillfully managed to remove my jeans and underwear. With one hand she seized my sack and had my balls cinched between her fore finger and thumb, pulling them while I watched her tongue trace along the head of my shaft. Her eyes never left mine as she teased it, licked it and lashed away at it giving me a devilish smile. She was now kneading my balls with her left hand and her lips parted and I watched her descend and my arousal disappear inside her mouth. I was really impressed and beside myself as she took her time but took it all the way. She left it in that state for a moment teasing me and I thought for sure that I would lose it and cum right there. She then slowly lifted off of it and started a combination of licks, sucks and small nibbles. She must have known that the pressure was such that I was going to spout at any moment.
She removed her blouse and bra and exposed to me the most beautiful, firm breasts I had seen to date. They were massive in size but fit her frame to a tee. She spread my legs wider and positioned herself between them. She wrapped my cock within her breasts and squeezed them firmly. I naturally began pumping and thrusting upward, retreating back, and thrusting again. After a few strokes within her breasts my wetness lubricated her skin such that ecstasy was not far off. She bent her head down and her mouth caught my swollen head on every thrust upward. I was ready, but wished that I could hold back. Thus far I had not so much as touched her, yet here I was ready to shoot my appreciation in loads between her breasts. I knew this would be the first of many orgasms this evening. My pelvis rocked and thrust upward, she placed her hand underneath to hold me there as my seed released in multiple spurts there upon her bosom. My skin tingled and Goosebumps rose as she milked each and every drop from my now relaxing member. Her smile soothed me and I watched as she ran her fingers through the mess I had left. I finally said to her that I thought it was her intent that I fuck her. She replied “You will”, as her hand grasped the base of my limp cock and began to stroke it back to life.

I'm becoming one of "them"

My alarm did not go off. That I know for sure. It wasn’t one of those times that I hit the snooze button so many times that the clock gave up on me. The thing never made a peep. I sat on the edge of the bed wondering if it had issues with me, but as I came into the world of the living I knew I had no time to analyze or wander. I was late. I did not shave nor did I shower. I slapped some gel crap in my hair and got dressed without ironing and took my unshaven, non-bathed, wrinkled self into work. I had a meeting and had 30 minutes to make it.
I hopped into the Ford and turned the key. I bolted out of the drive like a bat outta hell. Normally I am not a full time smoker, but when I am out drinking I tend to partake in that what is Tobacco. Right or wrong I looked over and saw my bar pack of Marlboros upon the center consol. I gabbed one and lit it and it honestly tasted great at that moment. I was late and of course everyone knew it because they were all out on the road at that moment and it was slow going. I puffed my Marlboro and my cell phone rang. It was my manager and he was calling to know where in the hell I was. We shouted back and forth over the cell, I puffed the Marlboro and traffic picked up. At that moment while talking on my cell phone, puffing away at my Marlboro and listening to “Bob and Tom” I didn’t see the car that was stopped in front of me. Steering the truck with my knee I saw the stopped vehicle in my path. I slammed on my brakes. I about lost control of the truck. Wheels screeched, tires smoked and gravity about threw me through the windshield. I stopped inches from slamming into the car. I forgot about my manager and threw the cell phone to the floor of the passenger side of the cab. Everyone was staring, I got a finger. The light changed, I accelerated and made a left turn. I sped along more upset at myself than anything else. I inhaled off of the Marlboro and it now tasted and smelled like fertilizer. I flicked it out the window and continued to my meeting.
I was almost to work when I noticed, not really sure what I was sensing. I smelled something. I had a bad feeling but again, there was no time to get all logical. I ignored the law and continued speeding my way to work. With my building in site, it became clear that I had a problem. Smoke was filling the cab of my truck. I immediately knew what I had done. I scanned the highway ahead for a spot to turn off. I sat there in a fog of smoke from the carpet and what ever else was smoldering behind me. I found a place and pulled off of the road, skidded to a stop and jumped out. I opened the third door to the truck exposing the space behind the driver’s seat and saw my carpet and part of my rear seat smoldering and next to it was the Marlboro butt I had flicked. I put out the hot spot with my coat. I missed my meeting and found out later from the Ford dealer that it would cost in and around $175 dollars to repair my truck. I am becoming one of them!
Today’s lovely flasher comes from one of the links to the left. The first person who can guess the correct Blogger will be awarded a cash prize! Good luck

What dreams may come

I had severed ties with my therapist after he mishandled my trauma during my M&Ms phobia sessions. So, I am asking you, dear readers, to put on your Freudian hat and help me interpret my recent dreams.
It starts with me walking on a street. I don’t exactly know where the place is but the houses in that small neighborhood are usually made of concrete and have semi-private porches in front.
After walking a few blocks, I would stumble into an old crooked house that has black paint all over it. I would get inside the house without hesitation. Once inside, I would find that the house is empty. I would then walk to the backyard only to find an Olympic size swimming pool. However, this is not an ordinary pool because it is not filled with water, but instead is filled with French Fries.
Yes. French Fries. The most notorious fast food menu item and also the top contributor to this nation’s increasing obesity problem. In my dreams, I would jump into the pool without even removing my clothes. I would then swim in that pool using different strokes: freestyle, breaststroke, butterfly and backstroke.
Ahh. I even remember that I was swimming in slow motion, similar to a brief snippet from an Olympic T.V. special that highlights dramatic effects of that episode.
And I have no idea what this means. I don’t eat a lot of French Fries, and I don’t crave for it either.

I opened my eyes and saw my cat staring back at me. We have become pretty close over the past weeks and she tends to sleep on my chest while I am in bed. I guess after the whole refrigerator ordeal this place wasn’t too shabby. I said good morning to her and she responded by opening her mouth and heaving. It was a full body heave too. Kitty hurl splattered upon my face and bed. I knew this was a sign that it would be a rough day.
I go into the office and for the most part things were normal through to lunch. Maybe I was wrong to assume just because Ms. Pattie decided to blow her “Tender Vitals” on me that it was a sign of impending doom. Lunch time arrived and against my better judgment I joined the “Lunch Table Girls”for lunch. It was rare for all of us to actually leave the building for lunch and even rarer for them to invite me to join them. I was hesitant at first, thinking that it may not be such a great idea, then riding along in Linda’s backseat and finding out that we were going to some Indian place I knew I had made a mistake. Indian food and Mike are not friends. I mean I eat the stuff but it always comes back to haunt me. I think it is the curry or some shit they put in their food. I was hungry so at this point it really didn’t matter and I figured that I would deal with it.
After lunch, I was told that I was being sent to DC for a task that I really can’t go into, but is something that I do not dig. I was to complete a full day at work, then go home, quickly pack and get on a puddle jumper to Chicago’s O’Hare. From there I had a three hour lay over then board to fly to DC, get in late, get up early, perform the task and turn around and repeat.
Upon our decent into Chicago I felt the first rumblings of protest from my stomach rejecting the Indian food. I reached up to twist the air thingy fully open as a sweat began forming on my scalp and forehead. The cramps were intense as my bowls argued with my stomach as to who was to blame. The pressure from the seat belt was not helping matters. I flagged a waitress, I mean stewardess over and asked if I could use the bathroom (in my condition turbulence could really turn this situation worse). She told me that due to our preparation for landing that I could not leave my seat. I tried to speak as quietly as possible and leaned over to her and explained the situation. She was not sympathetic to my situation and told me no and walked away.
We were taxiing to our gate and I was facing a dilemma. Not only was I puckered to the point I wasn’t sure if I could walk, not only were the cramps and pressure so bad that I feared I would spring a leak through my navel and never mind the tears streaming down my face, worse than that, I would have to face the “Away Game”phobia. Those of you that know me understand that I do not like or deal with shitting anywhere besides my own throne. In fact I rarely do. With that said, add in the fact we were talking airport facilities on top of Chicago O’Hare facilities and I am now wishing I were dead.
I hobbled off of the plane relishing and dreading the moment my cheeks hit the hard plastic seat. As I hurried down the long terminal corridor, my carry on tilting on its wheels behind me, I searched for a sign. The international blue sign that in my case meant relief. I approached the spot and once there realized that times have changed and we have come along way as a nation. There in between the Men and Women’s facility was a door. The door said “Family”. I had no time to analyze. I threw open the door and hurled my luggage into the rather large, clean and private bathroom. It had a lock! What a concept. My pants hit the floor and dangled around my ankles and I’ll bet my ass hadn’t hit the seat before I unclenched and expelled the toxins. I sat there in agony as the Indian food, now liquid bile, shot out my ass like the great flood from the bible. The smell was horrendous. The pain came and went in waves as I cursed the “Lunch Table Girls”. I sat there trembling as the last of it splashed into the water beneath me. I thought that I heard the door a few times, like someone was trying to get in, but that was the least of my concerns. Right now I had to manage to clean up with the “No Ply” five cent paper provided. I did just that. With my bung clean and raw from the experience, I gathered myself got my trousers back up and on, washed and recovered my tattered luggage. I went to flush the commode and it clogged. Not only did it clog but it began to over flow. The smell that minutes ago was harsh was now like cologne in comparison to the stench over flowing from the bowl. I didn’t need this or have time for it. My stomach was empty and I was hungry again. I unlocked the door to leave and came face to face with people, kids, a guy in a wheel chair and a guy with a key. The maintenance dude said “This is for families and the handicap”. I apologized and started to walk away quickly as I heard the sounds of disgust at the discovery of the family shitter and the mess I had left. Shouts came from behind me, but I never looked back. So, how was your day.

Truth or Dare Week 2

Yes, things have been busy around here with the whole “Truth or Dare” craze. I still have way more “Truths” than I would like, but the brave ones are coming out from the woodwork. Hell, I even conceded to a dare myself caught up in the whole thing. I know that there are a lot of you that participated and put in some good work. I will get them up! Thus far I am going in order. For those who have made requests, I am hoping to get to you all this week.
Our first submission is a “Truth”. This is from the lovely Jen
“Tell me about a time that you or your actions made you feel bad,cheated, disgusted, disgusting or remorse.Describe why and what were the circumstances that led you to do the act you did.”
I was 16 at the time, (so this was 5 years ago) and my best friend Dave, and my other “friend” Travis came over to my house. And I say “friend” because Travis and I were currently sleeping together.
We shall move on to our first “Dare”. Green Eyes was up for the challenge, so I sent her out on a mission.
“Go to your local adult store and purchase something. Before you open it, write DARE, HI MIKE on the package with a marker.
Then write a review of the product you purchased. Good or bad.”











First of all, I’m single. So, having to review the product right away put limitations on my purchase. Not to mention I had just purchased some other toys, that were already out of their packaging. Mike has impeccable timing!
I purchased a waterproof 5” multi-speed massager. Not quiet, but not overtly loud either. Highest speed setting was necessary for orgasm. I personally would have preferred a wider tip to the massager.
Best part of the purchase is being able to play with a toy in the tub! Always a good thing to multi-task!
Would I recommend this product to you? I’d have to answer no. In my humble opinion, nothing beats a cock!
The next “Truth” is from an unidentified (their choice) Blogger.
“Tell me about a time that you engaged in or were asked to perform a “Kinky” sexual act? What was it and did you get into it?”
Last but not least, I was played by the lovely Stefi who defaulted on her dare (After I completed mine) but her lovely sis Paige took one for the team and followed through with the dare. I think that Paige and her HOT little belly may just actually become a permanent fixture on this site

Stranger things have happened-A fave in the crowd

Serious Shit
I opened my eyes and gave them a minute to adjust. I looked around, where was I? My head ached. I lie there and try to rewind, go back through the events prior to waking up in this foreign place. I remember it was St. Patrick’s Day, I remember starting off at the “Village Idiot” (a local pub). I remember asking the hot chick how she got her head to dread lock like that. I remember how damn smoky it was there and I remember heading to the strip club. I remember doing shots from the shooter girl’s breasts. I remember calling Sugar –
It was vaguely coming back to me. The club was having a “Show me your Clover” contest. The premise was the audience would sign up to get nude and prance around on the stage with the hot naked chicks and the winner would then do an encore in the shower on the stage with girls soaping him up in hopes the to get the “Clover” to turn into a “Sham – Rockhardon” I remember thinking what in the hell am I doing. I remember I had to dance to “I want your sex” by that Wham dude. I remember being embarrassed up there naked dancing in front of all of these people. I also remember being so polluted that I didn’t care. I remember the shower and getting the five one hundred dollar bills. But I had yet to remember where I was or how I got here.
My eyes were now focused and I realized that I was not alone lying here in this strange bed. I turned and looked over. I saw a female, she had long red hair. She was partially covered and her exposed parts led me to believe that she was hot. I propped myself up a bit and squinted as I scanned the room. I saw clothes on the floor. I saw my boxers torn in two hanging from a lamp shade. What in the hell? I saw condom wrappers lying on the floor. “Oh Mike, what have you done” I thought. I went into survival mode and began to plan, a plan to get dressed and get out of here as quickly as I could. I went to get out of bed and she turned around. She was incredible. I felt that I knew her, yet I have no clue as to she is. She said good morning and her breath had a distinct hint of alcohol and semen. I acted cool, like every thing was OK and said good morning. At this point I already had one leg inside of my jeans. “Where you going” she asked. OK, busted! As much as my head throbbed and my mouth tasted like an ashtray, I still had it. “Well, you caught me” I said. I explained to her that I was going to sneak out and go fetch some things so that I could make her a surprise breakfast in bed. She smiled a beautiful smile. I asked her to roll back over, to go back to sleep and pretend that she never saw me sneaking out. I told her I would wake her when her breakfast was ready.
I gathered all of my stuff lying amongst the empty bottles. I couldn’t remember what I had when I got here, so I stuck to the basics and grabbed my wallet and my clothes and bolted for the door, never looking back.
I must have showered for over an hour. I felt so bad, so dirty, so twenty years old again. Next year I will remember to keep the Shamrock in my pants on St. Patrick’s Day.
MIA - I am saddened! One of my favorite Blogs and Bloggers are GONE! Vanished without a trace. If ANYONE knows where Steph has gone, or what happened to her blog, please let me know