wicked and that ain't so easy
"if there were but world enough and time..."

but there isn't.

so......spit it out.
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Posted:Aug 13, 2018 1:41 pm
Last Updated:Aug 14, 2018 12:57 pm

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream- -and not make dreams your master;
If you can think- -and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on! '

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings- -nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And- -which is more- -you'll be a Man, my son!
you've got mail
Posted:Aug 8, 2018 10:40 am
Last Updated:Aug 9, 2018 10:20 am

which you will never be able to read ….HA

'BUT I have been on this site a decent length of time and have managed to survive their farting around with stuff . this time...….I just can't. I can't open mail, I can't respond to mail, I can't stand the little dot thingy where if you miss the delete suddenly you have a new friend. wtf.

is it prettier? meh

personally I like a cleaner less froufrou style. and how do they decide what's important anyway? how incredibly presumptuous.

fix the fact that words keep disappearing the in the blogs. that would be nice. smh.

sorry this is not really a blog - just a pissed off moment.
Posted:Aug 2, 2018 12:12 pm
Last Updated:Aug 13, 2018 1:29 pm

I spent two days drifting through a land filled with emotion, laughter, moving easily up and down without wondering if there would be a slip or a fall or a moment of silence because shared silence is a comfort of sorts a breath taken to celebrate the presence, the present of the being together. Music always backlit the scene and sometimes drove us to move but more often to smile or shout no, no. and search for something less jarring to our perfection.

When you talk about everything nothing all at once the jumble becomes a sort of poetry and the silly becomes hilarity that would rival lucy and ethel in the chocolate factory. To always be so open to the warp and weave of words, to wallow like this, slatternly utterly relaxed with no thought of agenda but only of the flow It seemed to carry us onward from one moment to the next, without effort.

Food and candles on the porch, spotting pears in the tree that for some reason must be picked in the deep darkness. How lovely to watch, boneless, smoking as a hand reached into the branches plucking fruit I could not even see. Then six green pears on the table as we pondered what we would do. Cook them to spoon over ice cream, or simply admire them forever as they shone in the shadowy light.

Faces change as you stare at them, they dance from one face to another in light and shadow. I watched seeing more than one person before me wondering as I did which one was the one I found most real, most tempting to the eye, most like the soul I think I hold within me but drifting, I let it go. pieces to be assembled and not by me.

Time spent like this, with someone you love, you trust is deeply soothing. It feeds your soul. Reminds you that there are spaces where you can be where everything feels exactly like it should. Even when you are crying you are safe.
good questions...care to answer?
Posted:Jul 27, 2018 11:40 am
Last Updated:Aug 2, 2018 12:48 pm
17 Real-Life Would-You-Rathers I, a Woman, Have Had to Ask Myself

1. Would you rather have a career or a family?
2. Would you rather be perceived as likable or competent?
3. Would you rather be told to smile or to calm down?
4. Would you rather be called “Sweetie” or “Ma’am”?
5. Would you rather have a strange man lightly touch your knee or the small of your back?
6. Would you rather spend the rest of your life explaining why you don’t want kids or why you don’t want his dick pic?
7. Would you rather be “shrill” but finish your sentence or polite but interrupted by your male colleague?
8. Would you rather shoot literal botulism into your face or look your real age, you hag?
9. Would you rather breastfeed your child in public like a whore or feed your child toxic commercial formula like a terrible mother?
10. Would you rather be groped in a bus or groped in a bar, and also what were you wearing, you filthy skank?
11. Would you rather be blamed for your partner’s affair because you’re frigid and have too little sex or blamed for your sexual assault because you’re slutty and have too much sex?
12. Would you rather accept societal messaging that tells women they have to compete against each other for men, jobs, and who wore it better, or reject that messaging and support women, you ugly man-hating feminist?
13. Would you rather get your period, which is dirty and shameful and gross and must be hidden at all costs, or not get your period, which means you are not a “real” woman, whether that’s because you’re postmenopausal or you’re trans or you have a medical condition, you bloodless, barren, good-for-nothing crone?
14. Would you rather be vilified for your choice to have an abortion, you selfish, godless baby-killer, or become a mother in America, the only developed nation without paid maternity leave and one of only thirteen countries in the world where maternal mortality rates are rising, especially for black women, who are almost four times more likely than white women to die of pregnancy-related causes, but shut up about health care already, you entitled, hysterical, overemotional, elitist shrew?
15. Would you rather try to take out a loan for your small business, even though female-owned businesses get 4% of all money given out in small business loans and male-owned businesses get the other 96%, or try to take out a loan for your college education, which will probably need to be bigger than the average man’s loan because your family is statistically less likely to have saved money for your lady-education, and which you’ll have more trouble paying back than men do because you’re making 80 cents on his dollar — 54 cents if you are Latina — which means you can’t pay off the loan as fast, which means you accrue more and more interest, which means more and more debt, which means more and more trouble paying it off, which means more and more trouble accumulating wealth over your lifetime, which means a bigger and bigger gender wealth gap, but why do you women hold 2/3 of all outstanding student loan debt, you dumb, ditzy, irrational, hormonal bimbos?
16. Would you rather realize you’ve spent way too much time writing a list of Catch-22s women face in 21st-century America, but you could still keep going because sexism is all around you all the time always any time you step outside, or realize you honestly don’t even know where your own internalized sexism ends because this patriarchal society is the only one you’ve ever known and what if someday everyone of every gender and color was equal but also is that even possible given the entrenched forces of capitalism and the inherent selfishness of human nature and let’s be real right now it’s hard to imagine what that utopian egalitarian feminist society would even look like and you’re just so so tired, you frumpy, melodramatic, PMS-ing, bossy, ball-busting bitch?

i found this and was cry laughing by the end but that's because as a woman i get to so don't think you'll win any favor by snorking it up men. this is real shit. funny shit but real shit.

oh shit...……….we
44-45 equals negative one
Posted:Jul 18, 2018 12:05 pm
Last Updated:Jul 30, 2018 1:06 pm
if you have a free hour....check out Obama's speech at the Mandela tribute. it is well worth watching


and because we all need to remember the laughter

Purple Pimping
Posted:Jul 10, 2018 2:46 pm
Last Updated:Jul 26, 2018 3:53 pm

Read JanuaryMan99's Day at the Beach


if I knew how to link to it I would have - just find it
"we are all just walking each other home" Ram Dass
Posted:Jul 10, 2018 2:28 pm
Last Updated:Jul 26, 2018 3:57 pm

She stood on her back porch, listening to the of the neighbor’s bug zapper, flinching with each sizzle. Her hand trembled as she lit up, a line ran across her brain, “smoking sawdust cigarettes in the middle of the night…”. The man in the bakery, handing her the collected works, what was she, 19. 20? It had moved with her, this book, dozens of times; more of a home than some of her homes had been.

Now here in this house for such a long time, time enough to grow a child, to bury a marriage, to witness the crumbling of kinships that had seemed built on stone. A life filled with small sorrows. She had learned to bend.

As a child she and her cousin who had lived in each other’s pockets would swing birches for hours, just for that moment when the birch having bent as far as it could would revolt, toss them up and away, into the sky into the possibilities. Ridding itself of the burden, the weight, finding itself once again straight tall, free.

But sometimes, a birch would under their weight, the careless weight of youth. They would sit then, by the tree, no longer giddy youth but almost women, feeling the shame of breaking something beautiful.

Having spent an hour driving, an hour sitting in a plastic chair waiting for someone to leave so there would be space for her to go in, she was almost dazed when they called her name and she entered the trap. Hands up, hands down, open your mouth, ruffle your hair, flip your ears, turn out pockets, fingers around your waistband. Her stomach knotted, her mouth dry.

His face, his smile,suddenly she is ravenous. They talk about a book they’re reading together, about a letter he wrote to her Sister the Saint who wrote back, about nothing and everything, blessed be, but time was gone so they stood for a second hands against the glass before she turned to leave, looking back to see him watching her, to catch a last smile but instead catching him just staring so she touched her chin, he grinned.

And now, now sleep was not hers to find.

It would be a long walk home, this time. Still, it would come.
the other shoe
Posted:Jul 5, 2018 9:20 am
Last Updated:Jul 10, 2018 2:29 pm

life has a way of biting me in the ass lately and not in a good way.

my ex husband who is not really an ex since I never bothered to divorce him, I just haven't lived with for over 25 years asked to move home. it was an odd request coming as it did timing wise...a story I have yet to tell....and it seemed that it was based on his health although it wasn't actually verbalized. However, we did go to a lawyer and rewrite our will. his idea.

also lots of doctor appointment and meds. though I haven't snooped.

so i'm worried. and it's also a little weird to have him here although he was always here a fair amount. he walked Charlie every day, did all the holidays, etc. dropped by with goodies.

I don't know, I hope i'm wrong.
vacation sex - symposium entry
Posted:Jun 18, 2018 12:10 pm
Last Updated:Jun 21, 2018 1:26 pm
Ah the joy of sharing a cabin with another couple, thinking what fun this will be and then finding what fun this was not at all. One ocd person who put everything away before you’d even finished using it, the constant carping on who ate the last brownie that was being saved. When I’d made the damn things so if anyone got to eat it, yanno?

So, in the dark of night my lover and I swam out to the float for privacy and to get it on, under a starlit sky with no moon and a lot of delicious giggling. Romantic, right? As we pulled ourselves back out of the water back at the camp, he brushed at something on my back. Which didn’t move. He brushed harder. Then he screamed like a girl.

Our friends came running which turned on the power light on the porch for scaring away critters and I looked at his legs. I screamed then too.

We were covered in what looked like river leeches. So gross. The systematic removal took over an hour, the bloom was off the rose. The lake once a shiny sparkly place no longer called to any of us and we left the next day, requesting a refund, which we did not receive.

I doubt there is much that could reinstate passion once you’ve seen a lover covered in big slimy things and heard them screaming like a bitch, so he never did call me again. It’s okay really, we were not that into each other. My friends still vacation with me, still recall swamp night with laughter. Once you’ve burnt a leech off someone’s ass crack, you are either in the wind, or bound for life.
wanton soup
Posted:Jun 8, 2018 11:07 am
Last Updated:Jun 18, 2018 2:13 pm

words are just about my favorite thing. good sex is high on the list too. now put the two together and you can watch my head spin like linda blair.

someone called me wanton...……..I about died of happy. and he did it in that voice he has, you know that voice ladies, the one that turns your legs weak. if your man has THAT voice, he can get you to do just about anything. smh. hell you will come when he calls, just sayin'. forget the words, just ride the sound.

so, where was I...……...words

succulent. another very good word. someone asks you how you are, just say succulent. it's a show stopper. helps if you sashay away. lol.

redolent. not so easy to slip into a convo but when you can, do it and make the comparison a real stinker.....grins.

mellifluous. it is what it is.

vellichour. not sure if I spelled that correctly might not have a u in it but it is the wistful smell of a used bookstore. isn't that fabulous? I love bookstores but used bookstores are the best. find a corner and settle in for an hour or so...heaven.

do you have a word or a phrase that you love? has someone called you something that just made you light up?

care to share?
Posted:Jun 3, 2018 9:05 am
Last Updated:Jun 18, 2018 2:08 pm

There were so many people in the room, she felt like her head would burst from all the energy bouncing around. She should have stayed home as she’d planned but no, something had made her come here so now she had all but flattened herself against a wall in a vain attempt to escape the charged room.

The kitchen had been worse, all that enamel sent the vibes ricocheting to and fro. She almost fell to her knees to crawl out to safety, smirking now at that image as she sipped a very nice Sauvignon Blanc she’d scored.

“Who are you?”

Her eyes had to go up then up some more to find the eyes of the person who was asking. Big nose, prominent cheeks, losing his hair, former athlete or maybe just a runner. Great mouth though.

“I’m the person least likely to be of any interest to you.”

“Odd, since you’re the only person I’ve bothered to speak to so far.”

She thought, not bad but said, ”Wow, work on that for a while did you?”

He hunkered down on the arm of a chair. “Nope. So, what’s your name?”

“Sam. You?”

“Sam. Go figure.”

“That’ll make it easier when we fuck eh?” Realizing what she’d said she blushed then laughed. Well there you go, in for a penny...

He looked at her with a question mark.

“You strike me as arrogant.”

his laughter was deep, sending a wave of need through her, her eyes half closing as her legs nearly let go.

“But how will you know if I’m yelling out my name or yours?”


He nodded.

“Another wine?”

“No, thank you. I’m ready to leave when you are.”

“Well, this is my house, so unfortunately, we’ve a while to wait.”

“Then yes, another wine.”

As he moved away, she felt both a loss and a spaciousness, the room no longer claustrophobic. She slipped herself into the chair, waited.
the desert
Posted:May 25, 2018 8:18 am
Last Updated:Jun 18, 2018 2:11 pm

she stood watching him work on that old bike. bare chested, sweating in the afternoon sun. nothing she hadn't seen a million times. his jeans catching him tight on his thighs when he hunkered down. She could almost taste the salt on his skin. times like this made her breasts ache, fill up with need of him. still, she just stood, eyes savoring the length of him.

He could feel her eyes on him. his cock twitched wishing she’d hurry the hell up. He knew not to turn, just to wait her out. sometimes she'd startle and then the whole thing would be taken by the wind. He stood and pulled his shoulder to stop the stiffening. He smelled kinds of awful. grabbed a bottle of water and poured it over his head. the sand just ate it like it never was. there was no breeze so the moment stood for the moment. he gulped the rest to soothe his throat.

her breasts on his back, hands around his belly. lips on his neck. she'd be standing on her toes to reach.

his long arms reached behind him pulling her tight to him, find her ass already wet with sweat, sliding over them easily, lifting her off the ground, heading for the barn.

could feel her watching him but didn’t stop working.

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Most Recent Comments by Others

Post Poster Post Date
If... (11)Januaryman99
Aug 14, 2018 8:32 am
you've got mail (19)sweet_VM
Aug 12, 2018 3:02 pm
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Aug 3, 2018 12:10 am
good questions...care to answer? (32)kzoopair
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44-45 equals negative one (14)photon46
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Jul 28, 2018 8:29 pm
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Jul 14, 2018 5:44 pm
the other shoe (19)christylovesfun
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vacation sex - symposium entry (19)Januaryman99
Jul 4, 2018 9:33 pm
wanton soup (32)poetic777
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