You Should Have Super Long Hair

You are free spirited and carefree. You are a total wild child, and no one is going to tame you! Your hair tells people that you're an individual who doesn't care what other people think. You and your hair break all the rules. You are a mysterious type who has many secrets. You prefer to keep to yourself. There's a lot hiding behind that hair. Very few people truly understand what you are all about.

Wow! Another accurate quiz result. Most've my life my hair's always been long. When I decided to hire on with the company I'm working for now I decided to go into my short hair mode and it stayed that way until a few months ago. Seems like 2010 was my year to go back to my roots . . . . or something. Whatever happened, I just got really tired of short hair. It seems plumb unnatural! I mean, what the hell! My hair's sort'a like my lawn. If I cut it, it'll just grow back. I'll prob'ly keep mowing the yard, but I doubt I'll get my hair cut again . . . ever. I feel better already!

     Sometimes I feel like life's just an infinite game of cosmic musical chairs. I swear I think I've been goin' up the down staircase since somewhere in the 60's. Now I'm here in the twenty-first century, ramblin' along life's highway, smiling a quiet smile as I see the signs along by the side of the road, sort'a like the pearls of wisdom I used to read on the old BurmaShave billboards. (Now if that doesn't date me, ain't nothin' goin' to.) Pardon me while I digress for a moment, or as the late Jimmy Hendrix so eloquently put it . . . . "pardon me while I kiss the sky."
    There's no brakeman on the train I ride and I swear there seems to be a blue haze all around the engineer in the cab, but we're still on the rails and remaining upright. Life is good. My friend Sixx has started a new blog called StreamWeavers. I love it! It's like a funky, old roadhouse out on Highway 99 where all my old Streamer friends come to share some conversation.
   I've been a wee bit remiss in getting over there on Wednesday nights, but I do manage to stop in when I get a few minutes free and catch up on all that's been goin' on. Thank you Sixx for doing what you're doing! You're awesome! * big smile *
   It seems like my work has wound itself around me tighter than usual lately. It's the same old same . . . . the more we do, the more the company expects. We meet that level and then the demands increase again. As if that weren't enough to dump a sane man into a river of insanity we've been doing another remodel project here at the Ponderosa. We've been doing one room a year for the past several. The first year was the living room, second year a master bedroom, last year the dining room and this year the laundry room and what is now about to be a master bath. Next year will be the kitchen and the year after computer room twice the size it is now. If all goes well we'll remodel the existing bathroom at the same time and then . . . that WILL be the end of remodeling! I'm fairly damn sure of that. * determined grin *
   Through all the long nights and crazy hours I've managed to embark on another writing project, another exploration aboard the Hitchcock Railway. It's been a fascinating journey. When I wrote the first of the railway stories, Railway Riders, I thought it would be the first and last. Before I was finished with that project a few other railway stories fell out've my head and I captured them in what eventually became a collection of Hitchcock Railway short stories entitled Cosmic Railway.
   Once those projects were completed I stopped writing for a short time. I posted most've what I'd written on my blog, intending to share it with all my Streamer friends. I'm sure it must've raised the ambient temperature of the Stream a few degrees. Erotica seems to have that effect. I enjoyed sharing what I wrote with all my friends here on the Stream. With encouragement from those friends I decided to pursue another erotic adventure on that same mystical, magical conveyance known as the Hitchcock Railway. It was then that Celestial Troika was born. I was sure it had reached it's conclusion when I reached page one hundred and ten. I posted some of the chapters and most who read the posts seemed to enjoy the ride.
   As I was doing the final editing on Celestial Troika I began to write a separate short story called Obsession. It was intended to be just a short piece with a strange and unexpected ending. As it came together I realized it was actually a continuation of Celestial Troika and what had been a finished story grew considerably. When it was complete it was three hundred and thirty three pages long, nearly three times it's original length.
   Once Celestial Troika was completed I sort'a withdrew from writing for awhile. I also stopped posting to my blog. All my old Streamer friends had migrated to Facebook and I just didn't feel the magic I once felt on the Stream. I posted Celestial Troika and Railway Riders on Scribd. com and listed both in the public domain section, meaning it was anyone's to use as they wished. I shared my feelings on that decision in my past posts.
   A few months ago I decided to try my hand at writing an erotic tale long on sex and short on plot just to see if it would work. Before I'd finished the first chapter I began to realize it was to become another Hitchcock Railway story. As I've continued to write the rough draft it's taken me to all manner of new places not quite like I've visited before, but familiar just the same. There are some familiar characters from past stories and new characters I'm still getting to know.
   I've got my mojo workin' again. Maybe I'll post chapters of the new story on my blog. It's titled "Erotic Encounters" and . . . . well . . . . they are! And then some. * teasing grin *
   

   Contrary to what you might assume, I'm not posting another of the many erotic bedtime stories I often shared in the past. I still write some intensely erotic stories, it's just that this post deals more with my fascination of how we perceive all things sexual. The topic of sex seems to elicit a fascinating array of responses every bit as varied as those who respond.
  The point of this post is to explore the reasons we react to the topic of sex the way we do, hence the reason I chose the title I did to this post. May the sexual adventures begin:

1)  Do sexual fantasies exist in that special place behind your eyes?

     For me they do. I don't necessarily act on them and they don't always become a part of the erotic stories I write, but they are an important component of my sexuality. The concept of fantasy adds texture to the love I express. Fantasy, I believe gives a sexual relationship dimension and shape.

2)  Do you share your sexual fantasies with anyone else, or do you prefer not to?

     I do, but here's where it becomes difficult for me to quantify. I don't really fantasize about specific scenarios. My fantasies seem to be rather nebulous and fluid. That's not to say my fantasies are meaningless, just that they aren't terribly specific. I love to let them develop as my mood dictates at the moment. That said, I am comfortable sharing what's spilling out of my head with my lover.

3)  Do you share your sexual preferences with your mate?

     I do. I'm at my core a simple man, but I also realize there's a layer of complexity to how I think and feel. I believe an important part of any relationship and sexual relationships in particular is communication.

4)  Are you an auditory lover?

     I am. I find it impossible to remain silent when I'm thoroughly aroused and I find it incredibly pleasurable to hear my lover unleash ecstatic emotions with screams, gasps and moans.

5) Do you express yourself verbally when making love to your mate?

    I do. The sound of my lover sharing intimate desires with me is a tremendous turn-on.

6) Are you an adventurous lover?

    In many ways I suppose I am. I do have my limitations. I think we all do. What another person might find to be a terrific turn-on might not work for me at all, but I'm usually willing to experiment. Sex is like food. There are many different flavors. The only way I can decide if I like the taste is to bite into it.

7) Do you prefer being submissive or aggressive in bed?

    This is something that probably fascinates me the most, because it's so often a choice influenced by gender. Men are expected to be aggressive. Women are assumed to be submissive. If a man is submissive he worries he won't seem macho. If a woman is aggressive she worries she'll be perceived as not ladylike. I strongly suspect there are more than a few guys who are delighted to discover their mate is a tiger in bed. I also suspect that more than a few women are pleased to discover their mate is comfortable allowing himself to be submissive. I move between the two depending on my mood at the moment. I love the freedom of being able to move from one to the other at will, depending on what I sense my lover's preference is at the moment.

    Okay, that's enough exploration for now. I've probably made some who might read this uncomfortable and if I have, please know it was not my intention. I have long been known as, among other infamous descriptions, the Grand Keeper Of Odd Knowledge. I've digressed long enough. Now it's time to write the next chapter of Magical Moments, another erotic bedtime story best appreciated while riding once again on that magical, mystical conveyance known as The Hitchcock Railway.

You Are a Hippie

You may not have long hair or a closet full of tie-dye, but you definitely dance to the beat of your own drums. (And you may even play the drums as well.) You are a true free spirit. You live a simple yet complex life that often defies explanation. You don't let yourself be weighed down by rules and you don't have many unrealistic expectations. You are creative, philosophical, and caring. You want everyone to have a better life. You thrive in a world far removed from the mainstream of BMW's and gated communities. You're equally comfortable whether rambling along a hot, dusty, country road or shuffling down a crowded city street. For you, the worst thing in the world is being stuck in a cramped cubicle in some corporate cage housed in glass and all things synthetic. You'd rather be broke than have to wear a suit and tie.

   While it prob'ly is true, most of us men are largely motivated by sex and food (in that order), we're also innately curious and intrigued by the simplest of things . . . . which can often lead to unintended results. The following is a perfect example of curiosity run amok. I have no idea who to credit for writing this delightful recollection, but it does illustrate my point perfectly. Here ya go . . . . . .

   Last weekend I saw something at Larry 's Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Julie . What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse- sized tazer. The effects of the tazer were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety....??    WAY TOO COOL !
   Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two AAA batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button and pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get the blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.  AWESOME!!! (Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Julie what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.) 
   Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-A batteries, right? There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised.. Am I wrong?   
   So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and tazer in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.   
   All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5" long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really and (loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-A batteries) thinking to myself, 'no possible way!' What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best.. .?  
   I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, 'don't do it dipshit,' reasoning that a one second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad. I decided to give myself a one second burst just for heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and . . . . . . .
HOLY MOTHER OF GOD. . WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION . . . WHAT THE HELL!!!  
   I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, and then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs? The cat was making meowing sounds I had never heard before, clinging to a picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an attempt to avoid getting slammed by my body flopping all over the living room.   
   Note: If you ever feel compelled to 'mug' yourself with a tazer, one note of caution: there is no such thing as a one second burst when you zap yourself! You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor.. A three second burst would be considered conservative?   IT HURT LIKE HELL!!!   
   A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from where it originally was. My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. I had no control over the drooling. 
   Apparently I pooped on myself, but was too numb to know for sure and my sense of smell was gone. I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head which I believe came from my hair. I'm still looking for my nuts and I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return!

P.S. My wife, can't stop laughing about my experience, loved the gift, and now regularly threatens me with it!     
If you think education is difficult, try being stupid !!!