Nasty Comments

For those of you who read comments (I normally don't read other blog comments, so if you are like me, you may not be aware), I have had a nasty anonymous commenter lately.

I normally write for myself and really don't care where you are from (and don't snoop to see where people are from). Anyway, this gal pissed me off, mostly because she hides behind being anonymous. As Prata or Grant would suggest, posting anonymous comments are not really anonymous.

Well, Wednesday night (Oct 29 2008 7:38:05 pm), she posted another note. I don't know a lot about her, but I do know she probably is from Chester, New York. She uses Optimum Online (Cablevision Systems), perhaps uses Firefox for her browser (at work - oh, and her work computer is a PC running Windows XP). And I have her IP Address. And if that is not all, her initials are AF (yeah, I know the name, too, or the name she has used in the past on her work computer).

Sorry I can't have anonymous comments right now.

Presidential Infomercial

I remember when Infomercials first started out (I think). Anyway, there were three main television stations (ABC, CBS and NBC), one public television station, and one independent station. Well, the independent station, every once in a while, would air a 30 minute Infomercial. I am assuming they just did not have the cash to run "What's Happening" again. Remember, I live in the deep south, and people did not like the social commentary of "Good Times." I did not understand it, actually, at the time but I tripped on the differences in an English class in college. For some reason, college English has a lot to do about social commentary, sex and politics. Not just GPS – grammar, punctuation and spelling. Guess it was more about communicating ideas than the vehicles (sentences) in which the ideas are communicated.

Crap, I should remember that – it sounds pretty insightful. Note to self: spew this out at the next cocktail party I attend.

Anyway, I saw Obama's Infomercial last night. I had two thoughts when watching this: (1) Obama could make a killing being the voice-over for documentaries, he really could, and (2) Obama is presidential.

Both presidential candidates this time are presidential – people you wouldn't mind seeing in the oval office. I like that.

I have been on the fence for some time, and my biggest hurdle is not the candidates. It is the people who support them. I don't like either side, and until now, I thought I must be anti-social or something. I don't like the Republicans who are blogging about them (or their talk show hosts that talk about them), and I don't like the Democrats that are telling their part for Obama. I don't like either's supporters. If one side had fewer supporters, perhaps I would favor that side. Either that, or if one side had fewer assholes supporting them.

Now, I have friends on both sides that have tried to sway me – I am not talking about them. I am talking about what I here when driving to work, what I read in the Op-Ed part of the paper (the third most read part of most newspapers, behind the comics and sports).

I am ready for this to be over already so I can start believing in someone who was not like W. or Clinton. I didn't like Bush senior, but he did not annoy me the way the last 16 years have. And I would have been annoyed by Gore as well. Can't we just have someone that doesn't piss off 60% of Americans? Is that too much to ask?

Loved the Infomercial. And I felt that I could just pick up my cell phone and text in my vote for president. Wait, that was another show, right? Made me want to own a Ginsu knife though. Not sure why.

Financial Bailout

Over the last day or so, we have heard a lot about how some banks will use their bailout money. Some reports are that the banks are going to some of it on bonuses. Oh, they say, the bonuses are a significant part of one's salary, and it should be around what they earned last year.

So we have an industry where a bunch of people screwed up, and we want to ensure they are rewarded to the extent they were rewarded the previous year? Doesn't seem to make sense to me.

Can you imagine this in other areas of the world.

Drunk Drivers
Judge: Okay, Mr. Drunk Driver, the state has arrested you for drunk driving. We do not want drunk drivers on the road.

Drunk Driver: Do you are going to lock me up, huh?

Judge: Well, you smashed up your car pretty good when you ran that school bus off the road. We thought we would give you some money so you can buy another car?

Gambler
Casino Boss: Well, Mr. Gambler, you lost lots of money at our casino this week. Looking at your credit at our casino, you seem to be tapped out.

Gambler: Guess you will comp my room tonight and send me on my way.

Casino Boss: Not exactly. We are part of a government program to extend more credit to you. In fact, we don't want your losses to hurt you in any way, so we are also going to comp you some meals, theater tickets, and, what the heck, a prostitute.

Gambler: Thanks. I learned my lesson.

---

We are teaching industry that when they screw up, we will pick them up, dust them off, and give them what they need to fail again. We have always had the government lining the pockets of the rich since the barons of the nineteenth century. It just was not that obvious until now.

Limiting One's Choices

There is a photographer I absolutely love in Flickr. Well two, but this one (named AustinTX) took the picture to the right of my words. I love this picture. And not for the reasons that others may like this picture.
Yeah, she is a beautiful young woman, completely nude – but tastefully so – and she is looking at pictures on the bed. Well, I am not sure that's what she is looking at, but that's what the image suggests. When I was in my late teens and early twenties, I did not take any naughty pictures. I mean, there is one picture of me, but it was not a "photo shoot." And now I don't have my twenty-year-old bod anymore. So I really can't ever do nudie pics that show me in my twenties.

If I had to do it all over again, would I want some naughty pics of me? Maybe. Maybe.

Getting to Know Your Cyber-Lover

Like many thirty-something women, on rare occasion, I chat with guys. You can go any of a number of public chat rooms and find people who want nothing more than to discuss sex. Sometimes these discussions concern previous experiences – which is nice because it is a way of reminding yourself of previous liaisons, and sometimes the guy wants to masturbate, and your words and attentions help him do that.

But when you meet such a man online, you really don't know much about him. You can't really trust what he says about his age, location or marital status, or even his real likes and dislikes. You can chat and talk and sometimes get a better idea, but you really don't know for sure.

Okay, so let's say I had a friend, let's call him Push77. Turns out he is a bit older than me, graduating college in 1977, and he loves to push his cock inside of women. That's how he got his name.

Anyway, after one cybersex session, we were chatting about this and that, and I asked him which video sides he thought were good. He turned me onto a site I had not ever seen – fantasti.cc. If is definitely not work friendly. But neither were our chats.

Anyway, afterwards, I trek on over to the site. You have to sign up, which is a major pain in the ass, but I do anyway. Turns out the site links to lots of other sites – it uses frames so you can see many other sites without having to leave their site. Sort of cheating, but if you can search for good porn, why not?

After looking at the site for just a little while, I get bored and leave.

A couple of weeks later, I get a note from the site, saying that I have a new "friend", Push77. Well, I log onto the site, wondering what a new friend means to a site that just serves up porn. Well, turns out that you can "save" porn that you like to view later. Not that I knew that, but I investigate it. Turns out, since Push77 is now a friend, I can see his taste in porn. I am psyched, because I want to see if he views what we chat about.

I log onto the site, and one of his favorites is "Amazing Girl Fucking Fantastic (22:11)". It starts out with this 20-year-old hottie, small boobs, shoulder-length light brunette hair, long eyelashes. Oh, and it is from megarotic (remember the site does not have its own videos). She is a cutie, but I would get bored very easily if she is just looking at herself in the closet door mirror.

Enter skanky guy. At first I don't know it is skanky guy. All I see is a huge penis, thick and long. And then my focus is really taken away. I mean, she licks him, takes him deep inside her mouth and all I see is his fantastic manhood. It is not for a minute or two when he starts fingering her and she says something about "my little pussy," that I remember there is a girl in the video.

But really, for me, the action is still on him. I mean, she is there, bending over, accepting his penis deep inside of her, but her gaping labial lips seem like just the right place for his cock to be. Their juices flow, and my heart begins beating faster. I love that Push77 has picked a video that he can enjoy that seems to give me pleasure as well. The only thing that detracts slightly is that she spits on his penis several times. And I wonder when I do the same, do I seem less ladylike.

The girl swallows the cum expertly and smiles. Video over.

After watching it, I go back to see what over videos Push77 has selected. I start to feel that he really has not lied, that our sessions are similar to the video I have just seen. Then I see his short bio. Apparently he is gay. Not bisexual on the bio page but gay. Still a great cyber lover, but gay. Guess I did not see that one coming.

Political Decisions

I am completely beside myself. I have to decide by November 4 on who I should vote for. If you think about it, ruminating over this decision is fairly inefficient. There will be more than 120 million people deciding on who the next president should be. And a bunch of people are figuring out for themselves who to vote for. If half are not decided (not voting in step with their party affiliation), that is 60 million people who were trying to figure this thing out.

Anyway, I have got an idea. I started keeping a list of drivers – some with Obama bumper stickers, some with McCain bumper stickers – and what they have done to piss me off. I am not normally a half-empty person, but I don't notice cars unless there is something unusual they have done, and most of the unusual seems to be bad.

For instance:

McCain Lexus ES330. Was stopped on a red light. Blinker indicating the car wanted to turn right. No other traffic. Owner on cell phone and did not turn until the light was green. McCain 0 Obama 1

Obama Toyota Celica. Driving on the highway and the car passes me on the right. Nearly clips the side of my car, and I was traveling 8 miles above the speed limit. McCain 1 Obama 1

Obama Ford Truck. Turning left on a red light. The arrow changed to green and the owner makes the turn right before the light changes to yellow. Lots of cars had to wait because owner was not paying attention, and not even on the phone. McCain 2 Obama 1

McCain Saturn sedan. Owner picking nose at stop light. Gross. McCain 2 Obama 2

McCain Ford Focus. Owner listening to loud Christian music at stop light. Not sure one should blast Bethany Dillon ever. McCain 2 Obama 3

Anyway, you get the idea. I am not sure where this will lead me, but I will at least be as informed as those who listen to political commercials. It is hard to believe that some people don't understand that political commercials are really advertisements. I mean, if you are not going to trust George Foreman when you buy your next hibachi, why trust political ads to make your decision for you.

On Writing

It's almost here: National Novel Writing Month. I have thought about doing this year after year. Last year, I started it – but I fizzled out fast. I did about 6,000 words over four days. And I did not do a darn thing for the rest of the month. I trashed the words – I did not like where the plot was going, and I was sort of frustrated as well. So I trashed it. It felt good, actually.

Kerry McFee, NaNo-Overachiever, wrote a piece about how she wrote so many words last year. Sort of funny, but not sure I just want to write words. Still, she wrote a whole lot last year. Pretty impressive.

I have read that writers write because a bunch of woman will sleep with you if you publish a book. When I was younger, I may have been in that screaming throng, eager to shed my panties for a playwright or a poet. I don't know what it is about men who can write. But that's not what I am writing about today.

I find myself on the edge of November once again, and I desperately want to write, but I am not sure how to begin. I know, I know. You begin by diving in, writing word after delectable word. But I don't even know what genre I want to write in. I mean, because it is a novel, that would eliminate all the books on buckeyballs and nanotechnology. Okay, I will admit it, I know nothing about them, but they sound darned impressive. Nearly damned impressive. And I will not write a cookbook. Or a travel book.

Everyone's mind leaps to erotica. And you know, I have the stored knowledge and experience to write a nice tale. But when I write about erotica, I tend to want to masturbate A LOT, and I am not sure I would have the energy to write 50,000 words about erotica and masturbate nearly continuously in order to find my muse.

Doctor: "This is a highly unusual case. Notice the vaginal tearings, the engorged clitoris, and the carpel tunnel syndrome from typing. Frankly, I have no idea how she got into this condition. Very strange."

Nurse: "You can stop examining her, doctor."

I just don't want to visit the ER for such a reason. Yikes.

And I am not thrilled about writing a children's book. I know, I know, JK Rawlins may be the highest paid author ever – going from living in her car with her kids to a nest egg that is over one billion dollars – but that only happens to one author (and it already happened to her).

I don't want to write about vampires – I find them too creepy – or romance novels – too trite. And the more I write here, the more I have a "don't list" instead of a "do" list. Perhaps writing turns me into a negative person. I write about what not to say to someone who has lost of loved one instead of what to say. How not to fuck 40 of your co-workers instead of how to fuck 40 of your co-workers. How not to contract an STD in a public restroom instead . . . you get the idea.

This year I am going to write about how to ring 50,000 words from my brain in the month of November instead of worrying about not being able to do it. One word at a time.

Voting Strategy

Okay, there is a bit of an election in early November, and I figured that I would let you know who to vote for. I am not going to give you a name, but a strategy in which to choose a president.

First, I want you to think back to past elections. You have to have selective amnesia, of sorts, and remember who you voted for and why. Then, if they were elected, how did they perform in the office. Then think of people you thought were bozos pre-election, and then how they performed. Then you look to see how your pre-election thoughts panned out. Obviously, your pre-election thoughts may be different than my pre-election thoughts, and that is okay. I am not telling you that you are right or I am right. Just look at your pre-election thoughts and then what happened while the president was in office. Were they congruent? Did your predictions pan out?

Here are two examples I have:

President Reagan
I was not of voting age when Carter and Reagan were campaigning for president in 1980. But I remember the election and remember what I thought. I remember thinking that even though Carter was not really doing a super job as president, mostly due to things beyond his control, I thought that electing a B-list actor from California did not seem like a smooth move. Plus he was governor of California. I am living in Georgia – and people from California were considered nuts at the time. My reaction to Reagan was really unflattering, and I think his presidency, even though I did not agree with everything, was very positive.

Summary:
pre-election view of Reagan: he sucked
post-election view of Reagan: how wrong could I be?

President Clinton
I could vote for President Clinton when he was first elected. I was not focused on the election, but it seems that he seemed to have come out of nowhere. I thought, this man rocks. He is not like other politicians. Not like Bush at all. I was not a Bush supporter, and I thought about voting for Clinton. I actually voted for Ross Perot – because I wanted to give those in office cause for worry about third party candidates. But when Clinton was elected, I was pleased. Since I was – and to a great extent, still am – an idealist, when I learned of Travelgate (the White House travel office controversy), Whitewater (the Susan McDougal land deal controversy), the FBI file controversy, and the circumstances surrounding Vince Foster's death (just felt fishy). And that has nothing to do with Clinton's apparent liaisons with women (when Arkansas governor, a couple of troopers had a bit to say about this), Gennifer Flowers, Monica and her blue dress, and I may have missed some. I remember reading portions of the Starr report – an interesting read.

Summary:
pre-election view of Clinton: very favorable
post-election view of Reagan: how wrong could I be?

Bottom line is that I am not really good at picking the president. I should really just do the opposite of what I want to do. Who knows, you may be better at discerning who would make a good president based on pre-election thoughts.
It is easier to pick the trifecta after you know the results of the race, but then it is too late to bet. I, am a voter, sort of suck at picking a good representative. Is that because my choosing skills suck or because the whole process is hosed? Sometime to think about.

In Love with Eli Stone

Last year, I fell in love with Eli Stone. And I don't mean Jonny Lee Miller, the man who plays Eli Stone. I am talking about the television show. Okay, I like www.ibdb.com. It makes me sound so much more with-it when talking about pop culture. The premier of Eli Stone is Tuesday, October 14, on prime time.

I guess I like the story because it is about redemption. You have some lawyer who may have not made the best decisions in his life. Then, he has an epiphany. Or a brain aneurism. Or something.

I like stories about redemption, perhaps because I want very much so to be redeemed. And willpower is a bit more courageous than keeping a dime between one's knees. Don’t believe me – give it a try.

I sometimes feel that God is communicating to all of us – perhaps not through cataclysmic visions (one of Stone's visions was of an earthquake). That would be too easy. I think we are all trying to find our way in the world, and I think it would be sort of humorous if God was guiding us through, but most of us were not in tune to hear what He was telling us.

Reminds me of an Abba song: Cassandra. Okay, the song is actually a re-telling of the Greek tale. Here is the "Leesa version" of the story. Cassandra hooked up with Apollo. Apollo is the god of light and sun. From the statues I remember when I was in high school, he had a little penis but a large scrotum. I figure he really knew how to use his junk, though, because he had lots of lovers. Cassandra must have been a good lay because Apollo gave her the gift of seeing (or hearing, depending on the story) the future. Well, Cassandra did not return Apollo's love, so then Apollo placed a curse on her so that no one would ever believe her predictions.

Things went downhill after that. She predicted the Trojan War; no one believed her. Her parents locked her up because apparently she was a raving lunatic. She was raped (by "Locrian" Ajax) and taken as a concubine (by King Agamemnon of Mycenae). Moral of the story: don't screw around with the gods.

So I have gone from a television show, to my religious views, to the Greek stories. No answers. Just God trying to talk to us and most of us (me included) having ear buds blocking our ears. Sorry, God.

A MILF By Any Other Name

The other day, I was watching some television shows online, and there was a commercial about the "Gilmore Girls." I did not know that Lauren Graham being a MILF was why some men enjoyed the show. Actually, I don't know of a single man who ever commented on the show. But to have a commercial, even online, that highlights the fact that the show is "MILF and Cookies."

Okay, I have heard the term MILF. And when I looked at the Urban Dictionary, there is an entry for "MILF and Cookies." But I think the definition was made up. I mean, is this a MILF that is sweet? Or fattening? The definition is not so entertaining.

Then we fast forward to Sarah Palin. Yeah, you know the one.



I am neither Democrat nor Republican, but I have heard not one but two Republican pundits mention that they'd like to . . . . Well, I mean, if you are part of a party that is prudish, it seems silly to shout for joy that your VP candidate is more f***able than the other party's candidate.

When I was young, I remember hearing something in the news about Jimmy Carter. Mr. President said that "he had lust in his heart for some Playboy Playmate." All you have to do is google Jimmy Carter and Playmate and you get Patti McGuire's name. Jimmy Carter is still a bit of a legend in my state. Mr. President was an honorable man. He did say something about lusting for a playmate. Okay, we had a president with a libido. Again, understandable.

I never understood the moment that MILF became a household word – a line we crossed as a society. I saw a sit-com last year, and they used the word, "cameltoe." Really. It is official; the world is going to hell in a hand basket. Enjoy the ride.

Rich Bitch and Bubble Baths

News flash. I am not rich. I have not even whiffed real money. Big money. So when someone like me thinks of an expensive watch, my mind drifts to Rolex. I don't think of Roger Dubois (their new men's watch, the Excalibur, retails for $657,150. The one thing I don't get – if you are spending over $650K for a watch, why tack on the $150 on the end of the watch? Really, like someone is going to say, "You know, I was looking for something under $657,120. Makes no sense to me. Oh, and if I was watch shopping for hubbie and saw this watch along side a decent Timex, I would have purchased the Timex (even if I did not know one watch cost more than a house more than the other watch).

Similarly, I don't know good threads. Oh, and I am talking about bedsheets. Apparently Hästens is a fine brand that I have not heard of. I mean, I would get my sheets from JC Penneys. They hold up in hot water when you are getting cum stains out. I mean, isn't that important? Either right people don't cum, or they throw the damn sheets out. Again, a foreign concept.

For me, I can remember a few airlines. Southwest is my favorite. I am not looking for an outfit like Netjets (they are one of the large charter jet services; not sure if they have frequent flier mile program). Flexjet is another carrier.

When I look for a deal, I look to Wal-Mart. Actually, truth-be-known, I prefer Target (pronounced Tarczey for a classier sound). I don't fly to wherever and attend a Sotheby's auction.

I mention this because every once in a while, I read a magazine called Worth. I make a warm bubble bath and read it from cover to cover. I don't dream of being rich, but while reading this $6 magazine, I sometimes wonder how the other 1% lives.

Receptionist Sandy

I wanted to relay a conversation I had the other day with a receptionist. Okay, I am going to exaggerate the phone conversation a little bit, but only a very little bit. It was nearly this bizarre. I called a friend of mine, and I wanted her to call me back. All I was looking for was the receptionist to get my name and phone number. That's it. Over the years, I have learned that just getting those two pieces of information correct can be considered a minor miracle. Anyway, here is the conversation, as I remember it:

Receptionist/Sandy: Good morning, ABC Incorporated. Sandy speaking. How may I delight you today?

Leesa: I would like to speak with Barbara. Is she available?

Sandy: I am sorry. Barbara is on another line. Can I take a message?

Leesa: Actually, can you forward me to her voice mail?

Sandy: I am sorry. We no longer have voicemail at ABC Incorporated. Your phone calls are important to us, and we want to give them personalized attention. May I take a message, Leesa?

Leesa: Sure. Please have her call Leesa at 912-555-1212.

Sandy: I am going to read the message to ensure I have this correct.

What Leesa is thinking: Sandy is delightful. She took time to tell me in a delightful way that the company no long has voicemail. She also got my name right and wants to ensure she got the message right. So far, I love this (other than the fact I can't go directly to voicemail, something which should be a God-given right. Or at least something we should expect in the United States.

Sandy pauses, and then the following ensues.

Sandy: "Leesa, a disgruntled customer, is calling to speak with Barbara X. She needs immediate attention and satisfaction and can be reached at 512-555-1212." How is that, Leesa?

Leesa: Sandy, I am not disgruntled. I am not upset. I just want Barbara to give me a call.

Sandy: Oh. I thought since you called, you were disgruntled. Most people who call this office need us to fix something, so I wanted to add something to give your message special attention.

Leesa: Oh, and you got my area code wrong as well.

Sandy: Well, excuse me. I am trying to give your message attention, and I have already written it down on my note pad. Tell you what I am going to do. (I hear the tearing of paper in the background.) I am going to leave three messages from you to Barbara. That way she will call you back.

Leesa: One message is sufficient. But please correct the area code. It is 912, not 512.

Sandy: Well, Leesa, our work is monitored, and because I want to delight you, I have spent more time than I normally would on the call.

Leesa: Can you read the message again?

Sandy: "Leesa, a pleased customer, is calling to speak with Barbara X. She needs immediate attention and satisfaction and can be reached at 512-555-1212." How is that, Leesa?

Leesa: Sandy, I don't want to nit-pick, but my area code is 912, not 512.

Sandy: What zip code is 512, anyway?

Leesa: I am sure I don't know. But can you please change the area code.

The phone call went downhill after that. Sandy did not delight me, and Barbara did not call. I fully expect Sandy to be promoted to a spot where she cannot mangle telephone numbers and piss off customers (I was a friend, not a customer of Barbara). And I have a feeling that was Sandy's plan all along. At least she delighted herself on that day.