Saturday, March 29, 2014

Sexual Horror Story:The Hard On That Wouldn't Go Away

This story is especially scary because it's true. This really happened to me.
A couple of weeks before Christmas about 8 years ago I messed around where I probably shouldn't have been messing. I took a Viagra like prescription that was totally not prescribed for me. It's called Trimix I believe and like Viagra it is supposed to give you a longer more satisfying erection. Well...I definitely can't say it didn't work.

The first nine hours of my monster erection weren't bad. I took the stuff at about 1am on Saturday night.12 hours later I had already my business and had been expecting "my guest" to get lost. But as I looked down it looked like my little friend (who wasn't so little. In fact he was bigger than I had ever seen him) had other plans. He was engorged with more blood than was probably healthy, standing straight up at attention like a teenager's and had begun to throb painfully. This is about the time that I finally had to admit to my bf, Cain, what I had taken and that things were not fading away down there. (note..we have an sexually open relationship and had started all this with friends of ours while he was asleep. I wasn't confessing to cheating, I was admitting I took some of his Trimex.) He was a little pissed but was more concerned with getting me to the hospital. After all, the commercials for Viagra say if your erection lasts longer than 4 hours to see a Doctor was 12 hours and counting. I refused to go see help because I had to be to work in a few hours and it was too late to call in. Instead I ran "it" under cold water in the bath and insisted that it was going down. But it wasn't.

At five i had to go in to work. Believe me, putting pants on and trying to contain the monster was not fun. It was in fact quite painful, but I was stubborn about not calling in and I did my best . I was at work a few hours when it became clear that I could not do that all night. I had to keep my shirt pulled down over the front of my pants to keep anybody from noticing and I was really starting to hurt. Finally I took my assistant manager aside. "I'm going to tell you something that I really don't want to tell you," I started. I proceeded to tell her what happened and that I should go to the hospital. I called and got somebody to cover for me...after telling her about it too.

When i got home, Cain had been doing research online and suggested we try ice packs...putting pressure on some part of the leg, and other home remedy's. I insisted they were working as I lay on the couch with an icepack over my privates. I was really not wanting to go to the hospital and looking back I was being ridiculous and stupid. About ten the next morning Cain checked on me...And it was as hard as ever.It had been up for 34 hours about. We went to the hospital.

That was a traumatizing experience I don't want to relive again. The doctors and nurses at this religious hospital weren't all that sympathetic and they certainly weren't handling me with a soft touch for sure. Thats not totally true. One Dr. was very nice, and cute. I thought they were being mean and more rough than they had to be with putting the IV in for example. I told Cain, and when the Dr was about to do a procedure and asked Cain to go to the waiting room. Cain refused to go anywhere. So he stayed, and him and the Dr. got to be good buddies. He asked questions and even offered to help out at one point.

I got lots of shots all over my penis to numb it so they could draw the blood out. The blood was black and without any oxygen. Thats what I'm told by Cain, I wouldn't look. Well it didn't work and I ended up having to have surgery. To wrap it up I was put out while they put shunts under my testicle area to flow the blood away. When i woke up I had a black jock strap on which really tripped my post-surgery self out. I spent the night in the hospital with a blood pressure cuff wrapped around my area that would get pumped up every 2 hours to stimulate blood flow. Oh and it was a few more days before the thing looked like it was going down, because it was so swollen after surgery.,

On the plus side, I think they cut some muscles or something down there, because for the next year when it was flaccid and at rest...its in a much bigger state of " rest" than before. 'to put it bluntly what used to be a grower and not a shower, was quite a bit showier. That lasted for about a year . I couldn't have sex for over a month cuz of stitches and healing...but I'm lucky things turned out as well as they did. Oh..and I got told "I loveyou" for the fist time by the bf before I was wheeled into surgery, so that was not bad. Also my orgasms changed considerably. Instead of quick easy cums it frequently took much longer for me to get off building up into huge earth shattering multiple orgasms. They felt incredible but took a lot out of me leaving me exhausted. They are pretty much back to normal these days. The Dr thought there was a chance i could never get hard again... That was not the case.
I guess the moral is if you want a declaration of love and a bigger penis you should take somebody else's prescription and hope it turns out as good. uh yeah..i learned my lesson. Seriously, I will never touch anything like that again.. For fucking real.

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

antique porn

I'm watching a video of old time porn.. Probably from the 30's. early porn is fucking awesome. I love knowing that as soon as cameras were invented there were pervs who immediately started filming sex.
Filming yourself fucking is possibly a little naughty now for some people, but imagine how taboo it probably was a hundred years ago. I have a feeling a lot of the ladies in these early fuck flicks were probably prostitutes.
And let me tell you as about the untouched and out of control pubic hair! In one scene the guy gets a wet rag and starts scrubbing one lady who I assume needed it. I'm pretty sure sex in the old days was a smelly experience. Charles probably wasn't going down on Caroline all that often in their little house on the prairie

marry fuck or kill?

Alright contestants. Its the children's show hosts version of Marry, Fuck out Kill.
Mr Rogers
Captain kangaroo
Or lavar Burton from Reading rainbow?

Personally this is an easy choice. If marry Mr Rogers as he will always make you feel like I'm the very best me that I can be.
I'd fuck Mr Burton aka kunta kinte.
And captain kangaroo gets a cap in his creepy ass

turn it into a porn!

I work at a porn shop and one of the commandments of porn is Thou shall make an XXX version of any TV show, movie, book, news story or weather pattern etc. So let me pitch some porn ideas that I don't believe have been made, which is challenging because the porn industry has turned nearly everything into a fuck flick. Seriously there is a Golden Girls porn.

Take the classic 80's sitcom Different Strokes and make it a hard core gay movie. Call it Deviant Strokes. Its the story of an old white guy in the role of daddy to a hot black twink and his midget brother. It's got interracial, daddy and midget sex! Hey, the pervs like it a little freaky. We don't all move to the beat of just one drum. It takes deviant strokes to rule the world. What might be right for you may not be right for some.

Saturday, July 14, 2007

It's another Friday the 13th!! Last Friday the 13th I was facing one of my big fears..heights...and went skydiving with my brother and sister for her 20th birthday. This time around I wanted to be out camping in the woods with a bunch of teenagers who were smoking dope and having sex waiting for the blood to start running. But alas, I'm sitting in front of a computer. Not the ideal place for a slasher fest but theres always the next time around.
Which brings me to my topic, which is what a weird little freak I was as a kid. I grew up on 80's slasher flicks. Jason and Freddy pretty much raised me. Scary, I know. I saw Halloween 2 over at my Grandma's house when i was about 6 and I was hooked. It scared the shit out of me, they all did, but the little adrenaline junkie in me kind of liked that.
If it wasn't for cable and a lack of one of those damn V chips I might never have experienced all of Jason's many reigns of terror. Friday the 13th parts 1-4 were mainstays during the early years when cable first came to McMinnville. I remember having about 5 neighbor friends over to my Grandparents to watch Friday the 13th part 4, The Final Chapter(yeah right.) My friend Graham lied and said we would be watching The Jungle Book. His ass got in trouble for that one

When we weren't playing Star Wars, Kid Pound (it was like a dog pound, but one person ran around catching kids and throwing them in the playhouse), trying to contact Abraham Lincoln or Amy's dead hamster via séance , or playing naked games like Dr. Ruth and Playboy, we spent hours of playtime acting out sequels to Friday the 13th. The only loophole that always ended up happening during that game was the damn garden. My step dad had a huge garden in back yard which was defenity a big no trespassing area. You did not want to piss him off by running through the garden. Friday the 13th always ended in a stalemate there. Let me back up a little. The game usually started when we would all pile into a car in the driveway and pretended to be morally corrupt teenagers stupid enough to be driving to Camp Crystal Lake. Then out of nowhere the kid who got picked to be Jason would attack the car and everyone would pile out and run. If Jason could catch you he would pretend to stab you to death, or stick a pitchfork in you, or maybe just squeeze your head until your eyes popped out of their sockets. Gosh, we were precocious little angles. Eventually the game would end up at the garden, even though the rules were you couldn't do that. Jason would be on one end and everytime he ran for you the safest thing for the surviving kids to do would be just to circle around the garden. Either Jason would end up getting mad and quitting the game, or he would break all rules and just run through the damn garden, not caring if I ended up getting grounded or not. Fucking Jason.

I had a few weird Jason dreams about that time too...I would have been about 9 for most of the events in this story. In the dream I was going camping with a bunch of easy target teens. Do you remember that stupid sitcom in the early 80's with Ted Knight and Jim J. Bullock called...I think it was Too Close For Comfort? Anyway...the girls that played the daughters were camping with us. In the dream we kept trying to camp on the top of this big hill with a cherry tree on top. Well Jason kept showing up and ripping peoples arms off and throwing them down the hill. I ended up hiding under the seat of the car (in dreams its not such an impossiblle fit) while I listened to the stupid girls who wouldn't hide with me die. Stupid girls. Thats when a creepy/sweet change occurred. Suddenly Jason was my friend. I understood his pain in a way nobody else was willing to do. When the cops showed up I led Jason by the hand up the winding hill desperatly trying to get somewhere safe. The cops were hot on our trail and I urged Jason to go faster. It was all in vain. The cops shot a bunch of holes in my friend and he fell off the cliff. I sat at the edge looking down at his falling body and cried. The dream ended with Jason's encouraging words echoing back to me..."Don't worry. I always come back." Geez, imagine what a therapist could do with that whacked out shit?

Exhibit C to my creepiness would be a camping ritual of mine. We went camping a lot, and I was more than a little concerned about my safety out there in Jason Country. While everyone was setting up camp I would walk out in the woods a ways and talk loud enough for Jason to hear me if he was listening. I pretty much explained to him that I was truly his friend and I understood what he did. I didn't judge Jason. Instead I extended an offer of friendship in hopes that the crazy bastard would spare me on the off chance that any brutal slayings began.

One last note. In third grade, I guess I was 8, we used to have to write stories with our spelling words. It was kind of my thing to write little slasher movie stories with the words using kids in class as characters. One sentence I clearly remember writing was for the word doughnuts. In it I wrote how "Jason slashed Julie in the stomach and doughnuts came falling out". You know if a kid was writing that shit nowadays it would result in suspension, therapy and probably make the channel 2 news. Those were different times, my friend, different times. Much more innocent,lol. Really though, as obsessed as I was with horror movies and writing Friday the 13th scripts and imagining all that evil..I really was a good kid. I could never actually hurt anybody and I never wanted to. That same year, third grade) I was embarrassed twice in class for crying. Once was during "Where the Red Fern Grows" and once when we were reading another story about a dog dying. For someone who once said Jason was my hero (I don't know what that meant) I really did have a strong sense of empathy. It just kind of shows that you don't need to get freaked out by how freaky kids can be. It might not mean anything.

Have fun out there tonight kids. If your out there in the woods tonight I'll pray for you. If you plan on smoking dope and having sex while you out there....I can write a kick ass eulogy. Happy Friday the 13th!!

Dear Diary..on America's birthday I became a Man

think I may have joined the ranks of semi responsible adult on the 4th,
at least on the family scorecard. The reason for such a drastic image
change is due to the Holiday miracle that was my Independence Day
Bar-B-Q. Yes faithful reader, I was trusted to host a family event and
not only did it not end with me blacked out in jail for arson or with
me going to another party having forgotten about my own but it was a

I should probably give credit to my partner in crime, Cain, without
whom it would have not been nearly as awesome. We threw the party
together the night before, having originally planned to just go to the
blues festival. It was all last minute, but thats the way I roll. heh.

This was also the first time any of my family or friends from back
home had been to our house, and if it went differently it might have
been the last.

You may not get what a big deal it is, but even thought I'm the
oldest cousin, the idea of letting me be responsible for the entire
holiday is usually not very realistic. My cousin Christina is the
obvious choice and the face that she is an incredible cook doesn't
hurt. But she welcomed the chance to not have to spend all her money
and clean the house before and after the guests arrived.

Cain gets an A+ in party throwing. We had candy necklaces and glow
bracelets for my nieces (best friends girls...but close enough), red,
white and blue little mini fans, and so many flags I worried the
neighbors might think I was a Republican. I even bought a slip and
slide like water thing...a water hop scotch sprinkler to be exact. So
what if I broke it almost immediately. So I'm a little over the
recommended age range.

The real test would be the potato salad. My cousin makes what could
modestly be called a fan favorite. I think the promise of Christina's
potato salad was the extra incentive that lured Sarah over here instead
of on board a yacht watching fireworks on the river. I don't presume to
claim it was as good as hers, but it was close. And Christina was
impressed that I made her a special batch without pickles, something
nobody had done before.

That potato salad was actually the source of at least 4 fights Cain
and I had over the course of two days. The salad represented a lot more
than just a summer side dish in my mind and any suggestions or anything
short of applause didn't really go over to well with me. Yeah..I was a
sensitive bitch. But I admit my lunacy most of the time.

I also got kinda buzzed, much more than I have in a long time.
Surprisingly it was the closest to drunk Cain has ever seen me, which
is shocking considering just a couple years ago I was drunk every
night. And was quickly reminded why I drink less the next day when it
was brought to my attention that apparently I can be kind of a dick.

I had no idea he was mad, but looking back it makes some kind of
sense. I was sharing stories and details about some personal things
with my friends that embarrassed him. But they got big laughs! I'm a
sucker for a good audience and its hard to stop when I'm on a roll.
Just anther aspect to my personality thats kind of whorish.

I found out he was upset the next night, and by that time he had
promoted the incident to the post of officially a big deal. This is how
we differ. When I'm mad or upset you hear about it almost immediately.
Or you get the deafening silent treatment. Either way I react in the
moment. Cain lets it stew, while he decides what he thinks and how he
feels about the particular offense. And while he decides he wants to be
alone. As in he wants me to give him some space. As in he is ok with
going to bed mad, while i work up a good amount of anxiety in my room.
I hate going to bed mad as much as I hate it when he goes all silent
and cold.

Instead of going into anxiety attack mode I did what always makes
me feel more in control.....I went into some serious craft time. I
made a card that acknowledged that I was a dick and had taken him for
granted. Inside the card I put my secret weapons. Homemade coupons.
valuable ones.

1. I Owe You one blow job to be redeemed anytime and place of your choice.

2. I Owe You one Top to Bottom Room cleaning. Room of your choice.

a Give Me a Break card. Anytime I am bitching, whining, freaking out or
obsessing on something or just being annoying he can hand me the card
and I will promise to stop and at least fake a pleasant mood.

4. 1 Get Out Of Jail Free Card. This
is a big one. He can bail himself out of any big trouble he's gotten
into with me with this card. He could have used it when he was off
slumming around on my birthday while I sat at home plotting his

I also wrote a card that promised that the subjects that I was blabbing
about to my friends that are sensitive to him would no longer be topics
I would discuss with others.

The cards worked. He was happy and I got out of having to actually
discuss the way I acted that caused the trouble in the first place.
Gee...sorry about how long and boring this blog was. This will just be
one of those rare times I use the blog like a journal. Next time I'll
warn you with some Dear Diary heads up in the subject. Now I owe you
some of those damn cards...fine. I Owe You one Blow job.....

your weekly slap on the ass from the stars

your weekly -ish slap on the ass from the stars
Jupiter conjoins with Mars this week, Aries, leaving you with a nasty case of the crabs. NO, not the cute little sand crabs they sell at the Mall. I'm talking about the ones that live in your pubic hair and lay eggs. gross. Nobody have sex with any Aries for this week if you don't want little bugs sucking the blood out of your sexual regions. Which reminds me of a cute little anecdote. A nursing home I used to work at years ago had a call in sheet by the phones with a checklist with all the various reasons employees might call in sick. There was the usual boxes for the flu and cold. But also on the list of reasons why someone might call in was the option of herpes. It made me wonder if someone had actually called in and said they couldn't possibly come in to work because of a raging case of herpes. That really has nothing to do with you though Aries, because there is no box for crabs.

Watch out for roving gangs of horny rabid midgets prowling the streets this weekend committing unspeakable sex acts on every big person that crosses their path. So if you've never been sexually assaulted by a dozen perved out little people, now is your chance to cross that off your list. I know I will.

The laws of Fate are very clear that you should really try not to ever have children. It's a proven fact that if you make fun of someone that is different or that has a handicap Fate will punish you by inflicting that same abnormality on your children. And since you make fun of nearly everybody you come in contact with that is a little...differently-abled the odds that your kid will be a deaf colorblind Jehovah's Witness albino with a hilarious case of Turrets Syndrome are pretty high.They will also watch hour after hour of Dora the Explorer and Bratzs movies when they aren't involuntarily calling you a Motherfucker over and over at the grocery store. Use a condom.
Your starting to grow a mono brow Cancer, but for the love of Jesus don't use a razor and try to shave between your eyebrows. I knew a guy in high school who did that and ended up taking out half of his left eyebrow out in one stroke. Unfortunately he didn't stop there. Once half the eyebrow was gone the only thing he could think of to do was shave the other 1 and 1/2 eyebrows off and make up a story about having a seizure and calling the ambulance. He claimed that the paramedics had to attach electrodes to his forehead and the only way they could do it correctly was by guessed it...shaving his eyebrows off. Man did he look scary. Kinda Frankenstein like. And the sad part is that once I found out the truth and accidentally told everybody what really happened nobody believed him about the whole seizure thing. So the moral of the story is...pluck or wax.

The stars are aligning in just the right position making this the perfect week to take up smoking Leo. Smoke em if you've got em.

You can go right to Hell if you think you so special that you can tell me my potato salad has too much mayonnaise in it Virgo. You heard me. Straight to Hell.

Why do you always lie all the time? Nobody believes any of those far out stories about cool things you've done or neat skills you have. You sure got that lying lier skill down pat. That's pretty neat. lier.

- Everybody's always saying how good you are in bed. "Scorpio is just so good in bed" they say. "Scorpio is a insatiable twisted perv" they say. "Scorpio is so talented with his tongue" they all say. Whatever. You weren't that good. And to be Grandmother could probably out perv you if last night was any judge. Prude.

You should never have messed around with that Necronomocon
Sag. It's just common sense not to go around playing with the book of the dead. Now we have this whole zombie infestation to worry about, not to mention all the flying demon things. Sheesh. Thanks a lot you big ruiner.

Do I even know any Capricorns? Does even one single goat person read my blog? I could whip up some awesome, imaginative horoscope that nobody's ever gonna read or I could save any flares of genius I could waste on you and give it to Aquarius. I think I'll do that.

Don't leave the house this week. Don't answer the phone. Don't read and mail and for the love of Pete don't watch TV. Hmmm...what else? Don't eat any shellfish or eat any farm raised catfish. Don't put your penis in a hollowed out cucumber that was just in the microwave until you are sure its not too hot. Only put it in there for like 4 seconds or you'll get burned. And don't have sex with any Aries or you'll get crabs. Just sit there. And Wait. I'll let you know when it's safe again.

This is going to sound like really far out advice Pisces, but I swear I'm not crazy. This totally doesn't make any sense and it goes against everything you know...but I'm just gonna say it. It might not be a good idea to trust a crackhead this week. I know..they are usually right on the money...oh and speaking of money. Don't loan them any money this week either. In fact it might be a good idea if you hide your money. And if you decide to have sex with one be prepared to get crabs. Even if they aren't an Aries. The crabs are coming down hard on the crack heads and the Aries right now. And possibly the Aquarius too if they do anything besides just sit there. Oh...and Scorpio and Libra look like they have one creepy crawly or another too.Did you just itch your down yonder area? Oh God..between the zombies and the horned out midgets and the crabs this is like...the best week ever! Well..if your into that sort of thing.