I live in a city that has suffered every natural disaster throughout it's history, earthquake, tornados, floods, and hurricanes. I personally have been through more than one hurricane. Nothing we've ever experienced compares to the horror of Katrina. My heart goes out to everyone suffering.

Having said that, what the hell were people thinking?!?! The storm topped out at 170mph and New Orleans is below sea level. How in the hell could you decide it would be ok to stay? It'd be slightly different if you lived on high ground. But the whole damned city is BELOW SEA LEVEL!! The worst is people with children. They don't have a choice or wisdom to know to get out. They follow your lead. How can people endanger their children this way. It tears at my heart every time I see the video of the family passing their baby to Coast Guard crew. I picture my daughter in mortal danger and I almost cry. How can a parent live with themselves for endangering their children that way. It's not like a hurricane of this magnitude has never been discussed in New Orleans. It's been said for years that something like this could happen. And it's not like they didn't have warning. They defied mandatory evacuations. What the hell did they think would happen?

And now they have anarchy and looters running rampant in the city. As far as I'm concerned (not that any of my opinions have any real bearing), they are the scum of the earth. It's not like they are scrounging for food or water. They are carting off TVs (that won't work without power), clothes, Xboxes. There are people who, for better or worse, decided to stay and are in immenent danger of losing their lives. People need to concentrate on helping them, not carrying TVs or STOPPING those who are carrying TVs out of some guys shop or home. The real pisser is, these people will probably apply for federal aid too. The mayor said in one of the news conferences that if they aren't able to plug the levee by X time today, they would order the complete evacuation of the city. I say spend 24 hours rescueing those who need it. After that, if you are still in the city, you can't be there for anything other than trouble and you are on your own. Make people apply for federal aid outside of the city and the looters can consider their spoils their aid.

Of all of the natural disasters I have been through, NEVER have I seen anarchy to this level. Sure there were a few bad apples. But from the videos on CNN, we're talking 90% of people left in the city appear to be looting. The other 10% appear to be clinging to life by the thinest of threads. You see images of 100 people walking through the streets smashing windows. There have been shootings. People are trying to carjack people. This is the worst of humanity. A disaster of this magnitude was their opportunity to rise above and, like New Yorkers in post 9/11, come together to help each other survive and rebuild. Instead, they are tearing each other down and showing what true animals they are.

This is perhaps the saddest part of it all. That this is the image of New Orleans now.

My how time flies. I've had an interesting time over the last several days. At least interesting to me.

Wed. night was the first night of playoffs for my pool team. This session we did pretty well and managed to make it into the top 4. Last session we made it, but only as the wild card team. Teh team was very serious. If we do well, make it through another round of playoffs, then a couple of tournaments, we COULD go to Vegas for nationals. I didn't drink until I had played both of my matches. After that however.... let's just say I caught up.

WB's... or rather PP's friend and fuck buddy showed up much to my surprise. She was, as ever, convinced that guys are still all gay at heart and want to fuck each other with dildos in the shower at every chance we get. About 1/2 way through the night and after PP had played her match, she said "Well, I'm taking off". As if we couldn't figure out someone was getting laid.

We were so serious about pool that we didn't finish the last match until well after midnight. We managed to win all of them and will advance. I started buying shots to celibrate. THEN we wandered next door for karaoke. THEN we decided to go out for breakfast. I didn't get home until 3:00. I crashed hard.

Around 5:00, I started having a really erotic dream. I dreamed that I was relaxing on a couch, I don't know where. There was someone (faceless) slowly stroking my cock as I sat there. It was almost like I was kicked back having a drink. I could've been watching football or talking to someone. The hand stroking my cock was there as almost a secondary thing. Like times I''ve been working at my computer and someone came up behind me and kinda squeezed my shoulders in a half assed massage. After about 10 minutes, I woke up and realized that Mrs was actually stroking it. This has always been one of those unrealized fantasies. You know, to wake up with someone sucking my cock. In all my years it has never happened. Technically, it still hasn't... at least not the sucking part. But there I was rock hard with Mrs slowly running her hand up and down my shaft. I'm sure I still reeked of bar... alcohol... smoke. I barely remember it. We fucked lazily.

Then I got up, picked up my brother-in-law and drove to Florida to go fishing with my Dad. The BIL managed to turn a 6 hour trip into a 9 hour trip. He is just back from Iraq. The whole trip down he would see something he hasn't had (usually food) in months. We just HAD to stop for it. We had lunch at the Macaroni Grill. He took full advantage of their "honor" system wine by the glass deal. He marked every glass he drank. He just opted to skip the little tuscan wine glass for the larger water glass version. So we stopped every 1/2 hour so he could piss. He decided to buy a new computer on the road. Never let friends drink and buy consumer electronics.

We got there just in time to meet my Dad at a local restaurant. The schtick with this place is it's mostly a karaoke bar. The owner is an Elvis impersonator. He walks around with one of those ear microphones on and will burst into one Elvis song or another. Usually it's accompanied by a bit of comedy. He's also former military of some sort and is real big on honoring the troops. My Dad snuck over and told him about the BIL. He came over and announced to the room that an Iraq vet was in the house. Then proceeded to completely screw with him. The poor guy was sitting there with his hand resting on his thigh when he walked up. That started the whole thing. Jokes about it being a family restaurant and he would have to keep his palms on the table for the rest of the night and he knew it was lonely in the desert but... etc. etc. were flying. We were all rolling. My poor BIL. He usually shies away from any kind of attention and was scarlett.

We were staying in a travel trailer. The sleeping arrangements were a little skimpy. Since he'd been sleeping in essentially a box car on plywood for the better part of a year I opted for the floor so he could have the last real bunk. By the time I crashed I had been travelling all day on just 2 hours sleep. Which used to be a breeze when I was younger. Now it kills me. I forgot what sleeping on the floor was like. I didn't get much more sleep that night either.

The trip was really great though. The last time the BIL went fishing with us, we couldn't catch a cold much less fish. While he was gone we started getting a lot more local knowledge and knew how to get on them. This time we caught our limit most times out. My BIL grew up without a real father figure and is new to the sport. I think we got him hooked (ha!). We talked about the trip the whole way back. Knowing him, he's probably already hit a Macaroni grill and the Bass Pro shop.

A couple of weeks ago, WB moved to a new house. She asked a bunch of us at work to help. A few weeks before I went to her house to help her reinstall a toilet she had removed to tile the floor. At the time, I noticed her house was a little bit messy. But nothing really unusual. When we started helping her move though, I realized that there was a layer of filth covering the entire house. I guess when I was there before I didn't really notice because it was a uniform layer of dirt. But when you started moving things and realized the brown table was in fact black under all the dust and dirt, you actually could tell how filthy the place was. It was disgusting. I'm no neat freak. My house is generally cluttered. But DAMN this was nasty. So much so that my boss wouldn't allow anything in his vehicle until it had been thoroughly cleaned. As result, we gave her the nick name "Pig Pen". So from now on her name shall be PP on this site.

Continuing the theme, I walked by PP in the hallway and was almost bowled over by BO. I can't believe I had ever considered fucking her if the opportunity arose. I mean DAMN. Talk about losing the shine.

This past weekend WC and I went to participate in one of my hobbies of the redder kind. We went shooting. Except this time we participated in a competition. The event was the most disorganized thing I've ever seen in my life. The web site said registration was at one time. The description hinted that we would be shooting at night. Nightfall and registration were many hours apart. The guy in charge of the event didn't show up until almost nightfall. There were about 10 people standing around wondering what the hell was going on. A couple of phone calls confirmed it was on. But we were baffled as to why the late start. WC and I stuck around later and later because a) neither of us have ever done anything like this and b) after a couple of hours you sort of felt you had made an investment and wanted to see it through. We finally got to shoot well after nightfall. It was an absolute blast, but because it was so poorly organized we only got to shoot a little bit. It was a real shame. I think it could be a lot of fun. Now I'm jonesing to blow some more shit up.

While we were waiting, we met some of the people who were there to shoot too. Have you ever had one of those moments where you are talking to someone and realize they are exactly like some character you've seen in the movies or TV? I met the real life Dale Gribble from King of the Hill. This guy worked for a pest control company. He was WAY into the chemicals and what they could do to a human in certain combinations. He talked about conspiracy theories... He even looked a lot like the guy. All he needed was a ball cap and mirrored sunglasses. Usually I'm pretty quick to notice these similarities. But this time it completely escaped me until I was telling Mrs about it the next day. I told her about this scary guy who talked about how the government did this or that and how he talked about mixing various chemicals to poison people in an untraceable way. She shouted "Oh my God, that's DALE GRIBBLE!!!". I almost shit I was laughing so hard.

Tonight is pool night. Our team made the play-offs. I'm not sure what to think about tonight. Usually I look forward to hanging out and having a good time. Shooting some pool etc. A lot of what I look forward to is the fantasy of possibilities. I.e. one night WB whispering in my ear "Mr, I'm really horny. You think we could have some casual fun?" Or some variation on that theme. Complete stranger. One of the really hot waitresses we've gotten to know pretty well etc. But now that WB is PP, I'm not sure what to think. She's the only real prospect. We know enough about each other that I think something COULD happen if circumstances were just so... But I'm revolted at the thought now. So much so that I'm having a hard time picturing anyone else. Even as just a fantasy. It's even cramping my one handed affair. In my mind's eye I see one of the gorgeous bartenders kneeling between my legs, taking my cock in her mouth while gazing up at me... reaching into the drawer beside her bed to grab some implement of pleasure... then knocking off the 3 week old cup of milk on to the floor creating a mixture not unlike chocolate pudding of the congealed milk and dustballs.... ugh... shudder... .gag!! (think pleasant thoughts... palm trees... beaches...)

This weekend I'm going fishing with my BIL. We are leaving tommorrow morning. He just got back from Iraq a couple of weeks ago. We're heading to Fla to fish with my Dad. Should be a good time... unless that pesky Katrina turns north. Maybe if nothing else we'll get REALLY hammered. The BIL is a riot drunk.

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There must be something in the water. Mrs went to her girls night out last night. While she was gone I surfed TV. I came across a movie. The scene I stumbled on was of a woman on top of a man. At first, I couldn't tell what was going on. But after a minute or so it was obvious that he was incapacitated and she was taking advantage of that fact. She was slowly fucking him. It was clear that she was the "bad guy" in this movie. She wasn't fucking him for pleasure. It was to frame the guy. She was taunting him with what she planned to do as well as encouragement to cum (not in an erotic way so much as the way a nurse would talk to you while taking blood). I was reminded of a Clint Eastwood movie. It had Charlie Sheen in it. At one point in the movie, the bad guys had tied Clint Eastwood to a chair. They left a woman to guard him. She waltzed over, undid his pants and fucked him while a video camera caught it all on tape. Anyway, I was watching this scene trying to figure out what the hell was going on. As soon as it hit me what she was doing I got extremely aroused. Something about him being helpless to stop her really had me rock hard. Mrs was gone... there I was with a nice boner... so I took the opportunity to rub one out.

Then, in the middle of the night I started to have the most erotic dream about the ex Mrs. I don't know why she keeps popping up in my dreams. We have now been divorced much longer than we were married. About 3 times as long to be exact. The last time we had sex was... to say awkward would be an understatement. I've never felt dirtier. I don't understand why she of all people keep popping into my dreams. There are many others who I had more erotic times with.

Anyway, we fucked in my dreams not once, but twice. I never have more than 1 erotic dream. Usually they turn into some drawn out reason as to why we can't finish, some interuption or we just fuck on and on and I eventually dream about something else. But this time, in my dream, we fucked twice. I don't know whether I came or not the first time. I don't think so. But there was a sense that we finished nonetheless. Then we went about unmemorable tasks. After a while I still had a raging hard on and showed it to her. She got down on her knees, turned her ass towards me while leaning on her elbows, looked over her shoulder and said "Well, come on". So I started fucking her from behind. Another strange thing, usually I know what's going on. I.e. position and that we're fucking in concept. But I can't really say that I know my cock is sliding in and out of a pussy or whatever. It's weird. But in these dreams, I vividly remember looking down and seeing my cock slide in and the feeling of her pussy wrapping itself around it. Sadly, in my dream, someone came to the door. I was freaked because I knew I shouldn't be there. I don't really remember what happened after that. I remember looking over at the clock (in real life I think) and seeing that it was still the wee hours and went back to sleep. When Mrs woke me up I still had a raging hard on.

So now I'm stuck at work actually feeling like I have blue balls. I can't remember the last time I've had them. Maybe back in college... Whoda thunk I'd be my own source of blue balls.

Where was this site when I first decided to trim the boys?! I could've saved myself the geiser of blood followed by the sound of my own head cracking on the tile when I nicked a nether part!! Let me tell you, you only nick something once... ONCE! While their advice is too little too late for me, any guys out there considering letting their razor wander south would do well to stop by and read. From personal experience, I cannot emphasize enough their warnings about the little wrinkles on your nuts being prone to catch the razor. Using a beard trimmer, while safer, doesn't mean it can't happen. Those very wrinkles and folds are apt to end up between the fence teeth. So approach the boys with caution. Using the razor like you would tackle an overgrown hedge will only lead to mass quantities of blood, the inevitable call to the emergency room after the color drains from your face and you promptly topple out of your shower giving yourself a concussion, and are doomed to spend the next week walking like you have a severe rash on your ass.

During my daily blogging I ran across this site. I am admittedly ignorant in the many things that turn people on. I can see where this could be a turn on for many. If it weren't associated with other practices that I didn't find appealing I could even see myself toying with it. What is confusing me is the use of the original name of these devices. If you read the history on the afformentioned site, they discuss the various forms these devices took and why they were used in different parts of history. Theories about their use in ancient history were mixed. Some were to prevent women from being sexual during their partners absence. To ensure the virginity of young women. Others were to display the sex in an enticing way for slaves and prostitutes. In more modern history they seemed to be used solely for the purpose of preventing "immoral" thoughts or actions. I assume the name "chastity belt" came to be as result. Which brings me to the fetish. Webster's defines chastity as:

Pronunciation: 'chas-t&-tE
Function: noun
1 : the quality or state of being chaste : as a : abstention from unlawful sexual intercourse b : abstention from all sexual intercourse c : purity in conduct and intention d : restraint and simplicity in design or expression
2 : personal integrity

Not being judgemental, but none of the literature or pictures from this site seem to meet the definition of chastity or chaste. Pictures of a guy in leather drag with his dick in a sterling silver "captiv" while his mistresse holds a crop to it do not inspire visions of "purity". You never hear of other implements of kink called something so innocent. Take a nipple clamp for example. To me they appear to be ordinary alligator clips attached to various chains or leather accoutrements. Yet they are never simply referred to as "alligator clips" in BDSM circles. They are "nipple clamps". Basements are "dungeons". You see where I'm going with this. "Chastity belt" doesn't exactly speak to the kink. Maybe "cock block"... or "pussy trap". Perhaps "chastity belt" in this context is a bit of a joke in and of itself. I can just imagine the little christian Mom setting up parental controls in aol thinking to herself "What a lovely place for my little Maria to learn about the virtues of chastity. Let's add http://www.chastity-uk.co.uk to the allowed sites list".

I think I just learned to love brits. I mean, I liked them before. But I get a warm tingly feeling every time I read this:

Foreigners who preach hatred, sponsor violence or belong to extremist groups could be deported from Britain under strict new measures that Prime Minister Tony Blair announced Friday

No I'm not going to start spouting about how the US should adopt the same rules/laws. I still believe in every American citizen's right to spew forth any form of speech they want including hate filled ignorant crap. Our forefathers guaranteed us the right to be complete dicks. Having to put up with them is the burden we bear in a truly free society. Under current US laws it is still unlawful to incite violence. But being a narrow minded asshole isn't a crime.

Having said that, I think I'll tuck this away along with any other fantasy I have of what I would do or say to people who have offended me. You know, the bully from school who knocked my books out of my hands every time he saw me. In my fantasy, I get all Bruce Lee on his ass and he cries for mercy. Same thing. I see some ignoramus spouting off about white supremacy... my mind will drift longingly to the image of the "Hate" squad showing up with batons and tasers and hauling his ass screaming to the nearest flight to... Syria... or Sierra Leone... or really any country that would welcome an American like a hyena welcomes a wildebeast.

Oh... there I go getting all tingly again.

Ah well... no one is interested in coming over to play tonight... sigh... Just as well, I have a feeling Mrs is going to be home early. Maybe pay per view porn will suffice...

Looks like Virgin Slut is dropping me from her links. I'll keep her on my blogroll because it's interesting reading. Her site is interesting to me because I don't understand her point of view. I would never pass judgment because I'm sure many people don't understand mine either. Maybe it's the male perspective, but considering the things she IS willing to do, oral, toys, anal (unless I misread), I don't get why straight sex is taboo. I mean, she explained in a post that sex is more than just being physical and she hadn't found a guy she was willing to be that close to emotionally. But when I was younger and my views of sex were being formed, some acts were... reserved so to speak. Obviously, sex was the pinnacle back then. As you progressed from kissing, the next steps were always petting. Starting with tits OVER the clothes, then UNDER. Using your mouth was something that may or may not be cool depending on the girl. Then came the pussy. Outside the clothes followed by inside. Handjobs came later. My girlfriend would never touch me. At least not until MUCH later. We were also always partially clothed. For one thing, we were always fearful of being caught. Two naked bodies are a dead give away of forbidden acts. But also because, at that point in our lives, we didn't even get naked in front of our parents. Being naked in front of each other was something only reserved for "true love". And I honestly can't remember whether orgasms were ever acceptable. Whenever things got too hot it always seemed that the brakes came on. The orgasm itself was intertwined with sex and virginity. Oral sex, hell even different positions were always reserved for AFTER the loss of virginity. The act of actual sex was the defining moment. Being completely naked, vulnerable, entertwined was a level of intimacy only reserved for people who were special enough to do so for the first time. At least together. I have no doubt in my mind that self gratification, while not talked about, was widely practiced by both sexes... alone. But that is conceptually different if not physiologically. Granted, there were people engaging in various forms of sex all around us. I mean, my town, at the time, had one of the highest teenage pregnancy rates in the state. I'm sure that everyone rationalized whatever level of intimacy they were practicing in some way. MY experience at least was, that all other forms of sex, while technically keeping your virginity intact, emotionally and symbolically were the same as straight sex.

Case in point. If a young girl realizes she is a lesbian before she has ever had sex with a boy, does she consider the first time she's with a girl "losing her virginity"?

In that context, it doesn't matter whether it's oral, anal, or with two vibrators and a fist. It's the symbolism of sharing the most imtimate part of you with someone. The mechanics of sex are secondary. I'm afraid that once virgin-slut decides it's time to lose her virginity to someone, she may realize, too late, that what she's built that moment to mean something to her and it has long come and gone.

When I lost my virginity, both of us were virgins. We had been dating for a couple of years in high school when we finally decided we'd do it. And it was a big deal too. Not some sweaty "slip" in the backseat of a car. There was planning, and dinner, candles etc. But once we did it, EVERYTHING was open for experimentation. I remember the first time I ever went down on her. She told me "I almost came instantly". It was such a turn on I think it really was a defining moment and the reason I love it so much now. It was also a defining moment in our relationship. We had built it up for so long that anything else in our relationship sort of hinged on sex. Almost like we had invested so much time to this point that we were willing to overlook other aspects we weren't so happy about. Once we had sex, it was like that stepping stone had been reached and now it was time to look at the NEXT step. We both realized we didn't think we could take the next step and we split up not long after.

Of course, complicating matters was my realization as to how AWESOME sex was. Maybe that's why I want the "strange" now. After years of build up, sex was everything I imagined it would be. Maybe I associate sex with the immense gratification and emotions of the first time. Maybe being with someone new brings back those feelings... hmmm.... I've never thought of it like that before. God help me I'm psycho-analyzing myself!! AAAHHH!!!!!

The gang went out for happy hour Fri. afternoon. Or rather, WB and I did as no one else showed up. The evening had great promise early. WB and I shot the shit for a long time. Mrs was going to a happy hour with some of her friends. Around here, happy hour starts at 3. Mrs and I debated whether or not I would meet her later. My thoughts were to hang out with WB... but hey, in spite of how boring some of Mrs friends can be.. it's my duty to occasionally hang out with them.

Anyway, after a few hours hanging out at the bar with WB, I got a call from Mrs who decided to come out with us instead of her friends. Damnit! Not that anything really interesting would've happened anyway. A bunch of WB's friends were going to come out as well, including WB's new booty call. After a while Mrs showed up. It was a little bit awkward for me because it was just WB and myself when Mrs got there. Fortunately, about 5 minutes later WB's friends started wandering in. I could just see Mrs grilling me later if we had left before anyone else came.

The first of WB's friend to arrive was Heather. She and I get along great now. We had a first meeting spat back in december. But since then I guess she has decided that I'm ok since I didn't turn into a complete male chauvenist asshole. Mrs had yet to meet her. They got along great. Then Heather's girlfriend showed up. I had been talking to WB about the happy hour Mrs was supposed to go to. Her booty call I met back in june (there are too many interconnected posts to link them now... it's in the archives if your REALLY dying to follow along) is from the same crowd Mrs was going to meet.. in a round about sort of way anyway. This town isn't that big. I figured there were more circle intersections than just her since the predominant common factor was they are all lesbian. Sure enough, Heather's girlfriend was also someone we knew from Mrs crowd. A few minutes later booty call herself showed up.

So there we were, surrounded by WB's lesbian friends (not a bad thing mind you). We had a great time. Around 8ish or so, Mrs had to leave to go pick up C from her Mom's. I hung around for a bit longer. Heather and I were having great conversations about the different points of view people have of military. After a few minutes, WB's booty call (I will call BC to save time) said "So, you're wife won't let you go down on her unless she's just showered?" I remember having an interesting discussion with her about my sex life back in june. Of course, the primary thing that stuck out in my mind from that conversation was her insistence that every marriage needed the wife to wear a strap on and fuck the husband in the ass. I didn't really recall saying specifically that she would only let me go down on her after a shower, but I might've. It isn't really true though. So I said I didn't remember that specifically but it's possible. She dropped it. But then she said "So you never find guys attractive?" I said "No". This seemed like familiar ground as well but I couldn't say definitively. She asked "Never?" in an incredulous kind of way. I said "Never in a turn me on kind of way. I mean, I'll see a guy and think to myself that he's good looking. But it's an observation. I never get a chub or anything". She said "I sometimes find a guy hot". She continued pressing the issue. Eventually, I told her about my childhood. I grew up with a single Mom. My Dad lived far away. I only saw him during the summer and occasionally he would pop in for a quick visit. Mostly it was just me, my Sister, and my Mom. My Mom was huge into the community theater. At one point, she served as president for the board. We spent almost every free weekend there building sets, or watching rehearsals. Some times we actually tried out and had parts. Not to stereotype, especially in a small town, but a sizable percentage of the guys were openly gay. It's not like I was brought up in a hick town without any exposure to homosexuality. If you prescribe to the environment theory, I'm the poster boy AGAINST it. Of all the time I hung around gay men back stage, not once was I ever inclined to feel I might be attracted to men. And no, I have no dark tales of the one older guy who cornered me etc. etc. I never really identified with them as "gay", just people from the theater.

She pretty much dropped the conversation after that. The whole time we were talking, I got the distinct impression that she wasn't really interested in anything I had to say. I detected a hint of... aggression. Almost like she wasn't so much interested in what I had to say, as to either take satisfaction that a guy like me could have "fag" tendencies, or that a guy like me has to be closed minded as to his own and therefore other people's sexuality. I can't really put my finger on the conversation. I got the feeling that, in spite of saying she sometimes found guys hot, she really found all guys repulsive and that she was fishing for something. Like the conversation was on the edge of a fight or an accusation or something. I could never really nail it down. Maybe I'll discuss it with WB some.

I'm kind of interested in hanging out with her some more. It's challenging to me to get beneath it. What is she really after? Does she sense that I'm curiously attracted to WB and feel I'm a threat? Does she view all guys with distaste and is looking for a chance to smack me down? Am I just nuts?

In other parts of Pluff Land, Mrs is going out of town Wed. I won't go into great details. But her Mom is seeing a specialist for something she's already seen 5 different ones for. They've done everything imaginable including surgery. But her hypochondria requires she drag my wife to distant places to hear the same thing yet again. They actually want her to see a psychiatrist this time. They tried this once before. She went along with it but lied to him. Said her childhood was perfect. Her life was perfect. So on and so on. They have already given her the same diagnosis her previous doctors have. I'm not really sure why she's still there now. Or why my wife has to be there too. But she's a good daughter.

So anyway, I will have the house to myself Wed night. Now, if only I had someone to play with... Anyone? Anyone? Beuller?