Still sorrowful.  Less than last week.  Appropriately angry at times.  Panic attacks about my own mortality.  Powerful dreams.  But it’s time to move forward… sideways… maybe a little diagonal to the left.

98% of life is repetitious monotony.  You wake up, shower, eat, drive, work with the exact same people, drive, eat, sleep, wake up, shower, eat, drive, work with the exact same people, drive, eat, sleep, wake up, shower, take a video of yourself peeing, eat, drive, work with the exact same people, drive, eat, sleep, wakeupshowereatdriveworkdriveeatsexsleep.   1% of life is when you run off to forget about the pointless cycle.  You go to Disneyland, or Paris, France, or Omaha, Nebraska.  The last 1% of life is random greatness which pops your little reality bubble in a way you couldn’t possibly have foreskinned… foreseen.

just the eyesThese are the eyes of a woman who sent me nude photos of herself when I asked for another picture of her.  The first picture she sent wasn’t a nude, I didn’t ask for nudes, but nudes are what I received.  When asked why I was blessed with camera shots of chubby carnal greatness, she replied, “I don’t know.  Just thought you could use something for your imagination.”

Now while she is a complete beauty, it’s her eyes that really caught my attention.  You can see the confidence, the comfort with her own skin, and the playfulness.  The eyes have indeed sparked my imagination, and at a time where my creativity was begging for some jumper cables and a car battery.  She has my thanks and part of my anatomy salutes her.

99% odds we’ll never get to play together… but that leaves 1% opportunity for greatness.

Speaking of books, I visited the local library yesterday on a whim.  I haven’t found a good book to read in quite a while and was just hoping to find something interesting.  I wasn’t in the mood for fiction:  I have a hefty personal collection of fantasy and sci-fi books to entertain me with fluff.  I wanted to learn something new.  Part of me wanted to go buy a camera, find a book on shooting nude photography, then convince Ms. Eyes to pose for me.  Wasn’t realistic.  Maybe I can convince the girlfriend (Hi Cheri!) to pose (not nude-nude, maybe semi-nude?)  a little in June.  Wife (Hi Denise!) will pose (nude, semi-nude, nun-nude, whatever) almost any time.

Anyways, I wandered through the non-fiction shelves.  As a hobbyist writer, I found a book called “The Elements of Eloquence” by Mark Forsyth.  A very fun book filled with rhetoric techniques and examples.  I admit to sprinkling several suggested techniques throughout this blog.  It’s always good to expand and practice a craft.  Perhaps someday I’ll actually get good at this writing shit.

The other book I found, “Perv:  The Sexual Deviant in All of Us,” just screamed at me to read it.  It hooked me when I read the inside dust cover, “You are a sexual deviant.  A pervert, through and through.”  It’s like Jesse Bering wrote a book just for my strange curiosity.  I’ve always found psychology to be a fascinating topic, and human sexuality has been something of a passion of mine for decades.  I’m looking forward to sitting in my comfy love seat tomorrow afternoon with a beer in hand, reading the chapter entitled “Sister Nymph and Brother Satyr.”

Speaking of ethical thought exercises, an interesting puzzle popped into my head while driving up I-5 (oh no!  now my readers know I live on the West Coast!).  Consider the recent push to make college students aware that no one can consent to sex while drunk.  A very worthy pursuit, as I am a firm believer that no person should ever be subjected to the tragedy of sexual assault (controversial stance, I know).  So:

  1. Being drunk means no consent.
  2. Why?  Because drinking excessive amounts of alcohol impairs a person’s ability to make “appropriate” choices.
  3. If being drunk impairs a person’s ability to make appropriate choices, than ANY choice made while drunk shouldn’t be “honored” by those around said drunk person.
  4. But… what if someone agrees to sex BEFORE getting drunk, gets drunk, and then says no while drunk?  Shouldn’t the impaired drunken choice of “no” be overruled by the non-impaired choice of “yes?”

My instinct was to say, “No always means no.”  It’s what society has drilled into all of us.  But then reality snuck into my head and started pointing out that “no” doesn’t always mean no.

Example 1 –
“Honey, is something wrong?”
“No.  Nothing is wrong.  I’m fine.”
“You just haven’t said a word to me since I mentioned having coffee with Kendra.  Are you upset?”
“No.  Why would I be upset about you having coffee with your sexy co-worker?”

Example 2 –
BDSM roleplaying where a safe word is given instead of “No.”  Sometimes in sexual play, “no” means “more” and “Bread!” or “Mars!” or “Meep!” means “No!”

It’s just complicated when alcohol is involved.  What if I got drunk on a Friday night, and my boss happened to call me while I was drunk and said, “Hey.  I just want to make sure that you’re coming back in tomorrow to finish that report?”  I would want my first response of “Yes I will be in tomorrow” sent by email before leaving work to trump my stupid drunk brain’s instant reaction of, “Nope.  I’m driving to Mexico to see a donkey show… Yahoo!”  If I walked into work the next day and found I was fired, then I would beg, plead, and argue that my drunk response shouldn’t have mattered.

I suppose I see gray in what people want to be a black and white situation.  Speaking of rainbow candies… what kind of weirdo prefers Skittles over M&Ms?

 

 

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