Happy Halloween

A friend who knows all the age crap I have to listen to sent me this Halloween greeting. Gave me a giggle, so I thought I’d share it. 🙂  Hope everyone is having fun and lots of chocolate out there.

Correspondence Hall of Shame, 10/29

Been a while, hasn’t it? I don’t have too many offerings, but I couldn’t let Halloween weekend pass without a few frights.

hi mayb we get to know eachother??

Or mayb not.

This one was from a 19-year-old:

I think you are super hot.
Can we fuck?

Well, I know I can, and I suppose you can too. Oh, you mean with each other? No chance, Junior.

You’re 19!!! Why on earth are you propositioning a 53-year-old? Can you even count to 53?

A comment on one of my FetLife photos:

well trained, i must say !

Excuse me? Really?? Do I look like a @#$%ing circus seal to you? Train this, pal.

I looked up his profile; he’s one of those uber-Dom types with “Master” in his name. Here’s my question — if he’s so masterful, why is he writing in all lower case, including “i”? 😀

And this week’s favorite:

I am 6’3, 275, D/D free, non drinker, non smoker, THICK, long lasting and can cum multiple times if the feelings right

Ummmm… good for you?
Let me get this straight: You’re just one inch taller than my boyfriend, yet you weigh about 100 pounds more than he does? I’ll say you’re THICK. Sorry, dude. I’m not into guys whose necks are bigger around than my thigh.

Here’s a follow-up on the guy who posted that comment about “older butts” on my FetLife photo earlier this week. I decided to reply with this:

Please tell me that my eyesight is failing me — someone didn’t actually post the words “older butts” on one of my photos, did they? No one could be that clueless… right?

He then wrote:

Ok, vintage butts is a better term….my bad

Oh yeah, that’s much better. I’m not old… I’m vintage! (rolling eyes) And you’re not stupid, you’re brain-cell deficient.

What else is going on… For those who have been asking about J (and thank you for that), he spent 2 1/2 hours with his doctor yesterday. She took blood, x-rays, asked him all sorts of questions. She thinks he may have some sort of low-grade infection that is keeping him sick all this time, but she wanted to wait to see what the various tests yielded before she threw antibiotics at him. So… we wait. Meanwhile, he’s functioning. The good news is, she isn’t worried about his weight loss. He’s thin, but he’s not underweight and his BMI is good. She told him don’t try to force calories, just try to eat enough now to maintain his weight until he gets his appetite back.

I think this has scared him; it sounds like he’s ready to make some lifestyle changes, cut his work hours, get more sleep. I just hope the resolve doesn’t disappear once he feels better… but I can’t worry about that now. I have to stay in the present and hope for the best.

Meanwhile, I had my first experience with cryotherapy yesterday — I had a benign thing on my face sprayed with liquid nitrogen, which freezes the growth and kills it. Not for the squeamish, folks. The treatment causes an ugly, swollen blister before it heals and sloughs off. So now I have a band-aid on my face so others don’t have to look at this icky thing. Perhaps I’ll take it off on Sunday and go out and scare small children. (OK, it’s not that bad.)

Here’s the insult to injury. This thing on my face has a fancy name: Seborrheic Keratosis. I did a little research on it, and found that an alternate name for it is “senile wart.” In other words, it’s a benign growth that older people get.

And now if you will excuse me, I’m going to go open a vein. Have a great Halloween weekend, y’all.

It’s a [Spanking] Party!

I promised you guys a parody, didn’t I…

I posted this one a few months ago on a “Spanking Karaoke” thread on FetLife, but it got little notice among all the other offerings, so I thought I’d spotlight it here. It’s a parody of Oingo Boingo’s “Dead Man’s Party” from the 1980s, which has become a quintessential Halloween rock song.

For those who aren’t familiar with the song, you can click here to hear it and read the original lyrics:

It’s a fun song with a very cool driving beat; I think you’ll like it. And you’ll enjoy it even more with my lyrics! So, in honor of Halloween, and for all my friends going to the Chicago Crimson Moon party (some are already there — Zelle!), I present “Spanking Party.”

All dressed up, got somewhere to be
Tops are gonna throw me right over their shoulders
Plunk me down right over their knees
Gonna spank my bottom until it smolders!

Waiting for the special weekend to arrive,
Going to a party that makes me feel alive!
Waiting for the tops to threaten me with pain,
Though I really love it, I’ll still complain!

I’ll be struck by paddles
Lying OTK
I’ll be hit by hands and brushes
Night and day

It’s a spanking party
Who could ask for more?
Lots of spankos coming,
Leave your panties at the door
Leave your skirt and panties at the door!

Don’t run away,
It hurts so good
Don’t be afraid
Unless you see wood!

Got my stockings, my heels are high
Waterproof mascara on either eye
Halfway through, I’m gettin’ oh so sore
“Come on, baby, you can take much more!”

I’ll be struck by paddles
Lying OTK
I’ll be hit by canes while my bum’s
On display

It’s a spanking party
Who could ask for more
Lots of spankos coming
Leave your panties at the door
Leave your skirt and panties at the door!

Don’t run away,
It hurts so good
Don’t be afraid
Unless you seeeeeeeeeeeeee wood!

It hurts so good…
It hurts so good…

Do I look like a @#$%ing chef to you??

New Guy came over tonight with a three-pack of brand-new wooden spoons. WTF?? The first time he came here, he brought me a birthday balloon and a flower. Now I get freaking spoons?? Is the honeymoon over?

Since they were kitchen implements, he got this crazy idea that I should spend more time in the kitchen. Needless to say, I didn’t share that sentiment. OK, he said, if I wasn’t going to use the kitchen for cooking, then he’d use it to toast my buns.

Yeah, well… I showed him. And his damn spoons.

We moved into the living room, where I was OTK for a long hand spanking and then put over my ottoman for strapping and paddling. I wasn’t as giggly tonight; I was feeling a bit high-strung and knew I wanted to play hard. So I pushed. What a shock, huh?

However, there are times when I really am foolish. I mean, I forget where I am and how many evil implements are at the ready. At one point, he kept whacking me with the paddle I hate most, and I complained loudly about it.

“I can’t help it,” he said, “it just looks so good on your bottom.”

“It would look a lot better shoved up yours,” I snapped.

News flash: That was the wrong thing to say. I don’t know what gets into me sometimes. But he made sure it got whaled out of me. For a while, anyway. I’m sure whatever it is will return. It never stays away for very long.

For tonight, though, I was tearful and contrite, and he held me for a long time afterward. Once I’d returned to Earth, we realized that once again, we didn’t have enough pictures. Naturally, we had to address that situation.

If you look close, you can see that my mascara is smeared. Feel sorry for me?

(sigh) I didn’t think so. I don’t care. I still think he’s a big meanie.

And yet, and yet… I kinda like him anyway. 🙂

Oh, and get this… I posted the broken spoons picture on FetLife, and got this gem of a comment:

Are newer utensils getting weaker or are older butts getting stronger?

OLDER BUTTS????????????

I haven’t thought of a proper comeback yet. I simply must say something; I can’t let that one go.

Later. Right now, I feel too good to be bitchy.

Rhythm of the Rain

It’s a rainy Sunday night, but not cold enough to close the window. So I sit here near the open living-room window, listening to the quiet drizzle outside and feeling oh-so serene. How is it that rain depresses some people? I wish I understood that. OK, when it’s coming down in sheets and torrents for days on end, causing mudslides, it’s not so great. But nights like this are like a healing balm.

Anyway, an old song comes to mind, from way back in the Dark Ages (i.e., the 1960s), called “Rhythm of the Rain.” It’s a very sad song, actually. The first verse goes:

Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain 

Telling me just what a fool I’ve been

I wish that it would go and let me cry in vain

And let me be alone again

Of course, as I hear these lyrics in my head, my mind transforms them to:

Listen to the rhythm of your falling hand,

Telling me just what a brat I’ve been

I wish that it would stop and let me catch my breath

So I could sass you once again

That’s all I got, folks. I read the rest of the song’s lyrics — mushy stuff about how this guy’s girl left him and took his heart with her — and my inspiration dried up. Perhaps I’ll finish the song if the parody muse comes through for me.

Or how about Eric Clapton’s “Let it Rain”?

Let it rain,

let it rain,

Let your hand rain down on me…

Ugh. That sucks, Erica. Give it up.

Never mind. I will have a good Halloween song parody for you later this week.

J is a little better. I have a fresh new episode of Desperate Housewives waiting for me on my DVR. And I’m playing tomorrow. Beyond that, at the moment, I don’t care. 🙂

When it’s raining, the world is mine.

Looks like LOL V was a success!

Looking through the spanko blogosphere, it looks like Bonnie’s Love Our Lurkers Day #5 did very well. Many participants and hundreds of comments; how cool is that! For everyone who stopped by here, thank you. I did get some new commenters, and that made me smile. Two people sent me comments via email — Carolyn and Rob, thank you as well.

After a day of so much positivity, I can’t bring myself to post a Correspondence Hall of Shame. It will keep.

Before I forget — everyone go wish Pixie a very happy birthday! 🙂

I confess, I am in a bit of subdued place today. Five weeks of worrying about J have taken a toll on me. So many caring friends have been writing and calling, expressing concern and making suggestions, all valid. However, ultimately, I’m not the one who makes any decisions about J — he is. And he insists up and down and sideways that for him, this is a normal duration of illness. I told him today that he needs to make a lifestyle change, even after he recovers from this thing. Get more sleep, not work so many hours. Running himself into the ground every day spends his reserves, and he has nothing shored up to fight off illness. He actually agreed with me… but whether or not he’ll do it remains to be seen. And frankly, I don’t know how much longer I can sit by and watch him killing himself.

The good news is, his appetite is returning. Sugar still makes him sick, but he’s eating more of other things. I will head to his place tomorrow morning and assess him this weekend. He promised me that he will go back to Kaiser yet again next week if he doesn’t continue to improve. I will hold him to that.

So, fun and light-heartedness have been a rare commodity lately, except for Mondays. I’d say New Guy has been a Godsend, but I don’t believe in those. So I’ll just say he’s been one helluva bright spot. 🙂  I still can’t believe he rose out of the slime pit that is alt.com. See, what did I tell you guys about leaving my ad there, just for the hell of it — every few years, it pays off!

Seems he took exception to my public dissemination of his grammatical gaffe, and has sworn to LAY me across my bed and LAY into my butt. Uh oh. Ah well, it was worth it.

Onward, a day at a time. Have a good weekend, y’all.