Rain

It's been raining since yesterday when I left for work. Some people don't like the rain. Me? I kind of like it. I've always enjoyed rainy days, as it often lets me reflect on life and memories long since buried. The first time I became a man was after playing in the mud, in the rain with a friend--one I've not seen nor heard from in a long time. She took a shower first; I followed after. When I came out, she was toweling off her hair by her dresser. Our eyes met in the mirror. As if in a dream, I suddenly found myself drawn to her, her lips so tantalizingly close; I could not fight the urge to touch them with my own. Tentatively at first, light fleeting touch turned to longer, more urgent contact. The rest of the afternoon was bliss. Life would never be the same. The world had somehow changed with the passing rains.

Sure, sometimes, bad things come with the rain, like flooding or car wrecks. Still, rain can can have a wonderful effect. Rain makes the bed so much more comfy, easier to sleep in and dream. Or, you can be out in it, enjoying a cool refreshing shower. Everyone looks good when they're wet (and sometimes, being moist can be most fun and satisfying). Who doesn't love a good wet T shirt contest? And I so enjoy playing sports in the rain. Water sports are fun--the outdoors kind, not the kind involving a tarp. I once dated someone who enjoyed golden showers, and all I could think about the first time she told me was, dear gawd, I hope I'm sitting in a clean spot; but that's another story.

Animal Planet

Two more days of work, then I'm off for some much needed rest and relaxation. Among my plans are to visit the zoo (to see the animals). Go to a BBQ (to eat some animals). And check out the local club scene (to party like an animal).



I'd like to think I'm going to hunt, eat, and play like those adventurous meerkats from Meerkat Manor. Except that I don't plan on doing any of that anal marking crap those horny meerkats seem fond of doing. I'd like to think I'm adventurous, but not that adventurous.

One Night in Bangkok

I just got home from dinner and hanging out with some friends. We ate at a new Thai food place called Bangkok Cafe. I do love sampling lovely dishes from various countries. However, as much as I enjoyed eating out delicious Thai, I can't help but wonder at one taste in particular that seems to appear in almost all spicy Thai cuisine. The taste of...soap? I swear, that's the closest taste I can compare to this particularly peculiar flavor in spicy Thai dishes. Why soap? Well, let's just say I'm familiar with it from having mom clean out my potty mouth when I was growing up. My best friend swears to me that it's the taste of ginger. Now, I've tasted ginger before, and I don't think that this spice was ginger...unless of course all those gingers I've tasted before were fake, dyed imitations.

Gift Horse

Today, I received the weirdest compliment (or maybe insult) of my life. An older, worldly woman stopped by my station, asking for directions. After giving her what she wanted, she laughed, caressed my shoulder, winked and said to me, "How wonderful! You've all your teeth!" Thanks...I think. Then, with a quick turn and a flip of her bouncy, shimmering brown hair, she was sashaying towards her destination, leaving a hint of jasmine and a trail of craning necks, stares, and excited whispers in her wake. I suppose I should be grateful that my daily regimen of brushing and flossing has ensured that all my teeth are in place as well as attracting attention. I'm just not sure it's the right type of attention.

Having all your teeth is a plus if you happen to be a retired gentleman or a well bred horse. I'm not anywhere near collecting any pensions, and I don't live in a barn--though growing up, there were times when my mother said my room resembled one. I don't have any hooves or tails--of course, there was that sophomore year in high school when I sported a long tail to go with my luxurious mullet, but that's another story.


Sure, I've been compared to a horse before because of my large size and for giving people wonderful rides. Every so often I'm told to hold my horses or get off my high horse. People say "Hey" to me on a daily basis. I'm should be grateful to have been compared to a glorious animal known for it's beauty, power, and hard work pulling out big loads or working hard as a stud. I'd like to think that I've some good horse sense, but truthfully, my sense of whores is much better.

Accidental Relationship

Today, I found out from some coworkers that I'm apparently in a relationship with another coworker. Surprising news, especially to me, since I don't recall ever asking this flirtatious (and possibly delusional) woman out. What happened was that last week after work, I asked my coworkers if anyone wanted to hangout at a local karaoke bar. The majority said yes, but come 7pm that evening, only I and said woman showed up. All we did was eat our meal, had a few drinks, met up with some new people, and sang, err, listened to a couple of songs. That's it. Somehow, this meant we were going out. When did the definition of a relationship change from repeated and planned pleasurable exchange of bodily fluids to singing Cruisin as a duet?



The bigger question is, though, how do you breakup with someone you had no clue that you were dating? The truth is, I'm really bad at break ups; I usually never call the person ever again, hoping they get the hint. I've had two separate experiences where breaking up in person ended up with the cops involved after the neighbors complained about the screaming (her) and other loud noises (me ducking her fists of female fury and objects hurled at me). I'm basically a nice guy (aka coward) when it comes to ending relationships. I don't like to see the other person get hurt (and I certainly don't want to get hurt, either). No matter what, ending a relationship usually means one person ends up crying--I just hope it's not me.

Terryfing Treat

Imagine my surprise--and horror--at finding out that I've won the (in)famous Green Elf Shorts. I hope that I can live up to the high standards set up the previous winners. I'm flattered (and frightened). I do have concerns about coming into contact with the Shorts that has literally touched so many, so intimately. Surely this must be some kind of public health violation. Do I really want to touch it?



I shall look into wearing protection and starting on prophylaxis antibiotics. Perhaps I should also update my will.

Working Man

Monday, and I start my fourth week at work. As the new guy, I've been very lucky to have been welcomed and supported by the regular staff. It could be my excellent skills, but truthfully, I think it helps to be absolutely handsome--and I'm only repeating what I've been told ;) Unfortunately, as the new (good looking--again, just repeating what I've been told) fellow, I've unwittingly attracted the attention of two female coworkers. Now, I don't mind the attention, but as some of my sexy readers can surely relate, being beautiful can sometimes be a burden.

I don't mind that these two ladies are few years older. After all, experience teaches many new skills. I do however, have a major problem with dating coworkers. Sure, I also have reservations about one of them being married with a child--I don't need no baby daddy drama. Trust me, it's no fun trying to duck the crazy husband/boyfriend of the lady you're dating, especially when you've both done things that led you to believe that she was single. The other lady, while pleasantly plump, shows signs of being psychotic. It's that true crazy girls (and artists) are often unbelievable fantastic in adult recreation. Unfortunately, they're also likely to throw heavy/sharp objects at you and threaten to kill you or themselves on a daily basis. That gets very dangerous, not to mention very messy. After a short while, it completely drains the joy of adventurous adult relations.

The main objection I have, though, is that I don't believe in dating coworkers. It can get very messy and productivity often declines. You should never mix business with pleasure...unless you're in the pleasure business. In which case, you're either a porn star or a prostitute; I'm not either, at least, not yet...

Come Undone

After years of reading, lurking, laughing, and finally commenting, I've decided to take the plunge into starting a blog. It's a new experiment, and my place here is very new, but all are welcomed. I don't know what I'll post about or how long it's going to last, but I'm feeling adventurous. So, come on in, and come undone...