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Gumbo!
Posted:Dec 29, 2018 8:38 am
Last Updated:Nov 21, 2020 1:21 pm
3577 Views
To me, there aren't many foods that will make me run out in traffic as much as gumbo. I may not be able to get my roux quite as dark as the 134 year old Creole lady, who taught me how to make gumbo. But damn, this latest batch turned out fucking amazing, if I do say so myself

Not bad for a forty something white guy...

1 comment
Vanitas, Vanitatum, et Omnia Vanitas
Posted:Dec 28, 2018 11:59 am
Last Updated:Dec 28, 2018 12:14 pm
3051 Views

Earlier this month, I engaged in an activity that, until recently, would have discounted as a non-starter. speaking of cosmetic surgery. Surely, that sort of thing was the domain only of the vain or insecure. Certainly nothing someone like I would engage in. My 'brand', my value proposition as a person is built on intellect, humor, philanthropy, and being inquisitive about the world around me. I have no for such superficial nonsense. Obviously, something changed my mind.

While the rest of my body remains in line with the number of on it, less actually, my face hasn't. Stress, genetics, who knows, but I feel as though I've aged ten in the past three, and certainly look older than I should. One of those reasons is that I was born with hooded eyelids. I've always noticed them, but in the past five , they seem to have begun a mad dash downward. They finally reached the point where they impacted my vision and frankly, my confidence. So I scheduled an appointment with a surgeon. I knew having them addressed would make me look a bit younger, plus the procedure is covered by insurance. That's a win win in my book. Then, the surgeon explained he could do the lower lids at the same time, for less than if I were to have them done separately. Basically, another $4k to have the bags under my eyes, which had also begun to bother me, disappear. He also noted your brows tend to move downward, as you age. He said it was an extra five minutes per side for him to make an incision and put in a stitch to raise them, so he'd throw that in for free. It was a surprisingly easy decision to make. Look noticeably younger for only $4k? Absolutely.

Had all of this activity been out of pocket, I doubt I'd have ever considered having either of the procedures done. But there it was, all laid out and oh, so easy.

And so, on December 12th, I found myself on an operating table, with a surgeon slicing, dicing, burning, and throwing chemicals on the area around my eyes. Initially, I was a bit freaked, knowing I'd be conscious during the procedure ( quite touchy about my vision), but whatever drug cocktail they pumped into my arm provided a suitable level of calm. Still, I was completely awake. I recall joking around with the surgeon and Larry, the anesthesia guy. At one point, I inquired whether they'd brought in the machine that goes ping. (Monty Python...Google it)

As one can imagine, I'd been less than the ultimate example of pulchritude, post operation (thank me now, for not sharing the pics). It was a week before I could leave the house, confident I'd not scare small (any more than normal). But the swelling and bruising have receded and all that remains is a hint of two black eyes. However, the results are undeniable. While I despise selfies, I've taken a series of them to chronicle my recovery. When I compare recent pictures to the one I took immediately prior to surgery, the results are undeniable. My eyebrows are lifted and the bags under my eyes have all but disappeared. Most incredibly of all my eyelids no longer hang over my eyes.

Putting aside the vanity aspect of the procedures, did they improve my life at all? The answer to that is a resounding 'Hell, yeah!'. The first time I left the house, during the day, where my eyes were perfectly clear and not hazed by ointments, I took a moment, while stopped at a light, to perform a quick assessment of my vision. Holy shit, I can see so much more! I'd reached the point where I felt as though I perpetually had a sun visor on, limiting my vertical field of view, and that visor had disappeared. Prior to the surgery, looking above the horizon required rotating my head, whereas now, I only to look with my eyes. It truly is an amazing improvement.

So, here I am on the rare occasion where my position on a subject has been significantly altered, although I still consider those who have elective cosmetic surgery to be vain. So despite what I've always told myself, it seems I am not without some vanity of my own. And okay with that.
1 comment
Dating Absurdity
Posted:Nov 9, 2018 3:14 pm
Last Updated:Nov 11, 2018 6:47 am
3385 Views
Aside from the rude, dysfunctional, and just plain bonkers people you meeting online dating, there are the flat out dumb, with nothing to say.

If I had a dollar for every opening note I've received consisting solely of 'Hi, how are you?', I don't know how many dollars I'd have but it would be a bunch. In order to head them off, I've included the following in my OK profile:
If you send me a lame 'Hi, how are you?' message, here's your response:
' great! Done with parole and all the paternity tests came back negative. Hoes be tryin' to bleed me dry!'

Of course, I still receive those notes, but I received one today that made my head hurt.

This was on a vanilla dating site, where you are encouraged to display your first name.
They've eliminated usernames and key off your email. So, my first name was clearly displayed on my profile as was her's, which you can see.

I'll just leave this here...
6 Comments
Sexual Preferences and Closed Mindedness
Posted:Oct 29, 2018 4:39 pm
Last Updated:Feb 16, 2019 5:29 pm
3352 Views

Having been away from the online dating scene for a bit, I ventured in over the weekend. I chatted on the phone with one woman last night, who left a bit of an impression. Considering writing about it, that impression clearly wasn't positive. There were positives, though. She was engaging, incredibly smart and knowledgeable across a realm of topics, and funny.

Long story short, we ventured into the topic of sex, where she portrayed herself as insatiable, doing it everywhere at any time. Regaling me with stories of 48 hour fuckfests. Not so bad, right? Except I forgot one of my universal truths I'll share at the end. Because she was being graphic herself, and seemed to enjoy the exchange, I violated one of my rules and waded into the 'higher level of difficulty' portion of the sexual floor routine during the first conversation. This included women enjoying being treated as fuck toys in the bedroom. I've written about this dynamic before in my entry celebrating sluts.

Eventually, she told me that she had no interest in being degraded that way and the concept of degrading a woman during sex was foreign to her. She went so far as to question what kind of women I spent time with that would enjoy such treatment. I responded that the only woman who didn't enjoy that dynamic had some hefty self-esteem issues and couldn't separate in and out of bedroom dynamics. ?They were the same to her. Back to last night, I threw out my personal observation of the more successful, intelligent, and self-assured a woman was, the more likely she wanted to be submissive in the bedroom. Toward the end, she made a comment about how such behavior was out of line (I forget the exact word she used) and asked if I could only get off by degrading women. Then, she stated 'the best sex of my life was during that 48 hour fuckfest, and we never had to resort to that sort of behavior'. Resort to???

That was the proverbial straw... I told her I took exception to her characterization that the power exchange dynamic was in any way abnormal or aberrant. I explained that the most recent partners I had were a VP of HR with a multi billion dollar company, an attorney, a senior policy adviser to the VA House, a university professor, and a psychologist. All very successful and intelligent women and all wanted to be whores for me. Two of them used that word, unsolicited. What she said was in a not so accusatory manner; in fact, we ended the conversation with her indicating she still wanted to meet me. Yeah, I'll get back to you...

There are a lot of sexual activities I don't find to be of interest. Full on BDSM holds little interest to me, but I'd never consider insulting those who partake as aberrant.

While I initially kicked myself for violating my 'save the high level of difficulty' material for later, it's probably good to have exposed this up front.

Finally, this episode became another data point to validate one of my universal truths, which is the more a woman brags about liking sex, wanting sex, and fucking at the drop of a hat, the less varied her sexual experiences have been.

Happy dating, friends.
8 Comments
Smoke Detectors
Posted:Sep 16, 2018 12:46 pm
Last Updated:Sep 16, 2018 4:04 pm
3979 Views

On an unrelated to dating note, I've uncovered another constant of the universe, with respect to smoke detector batteries.

First, when a battery begins to die, should you be awake when it happens, it will chirp constantly until you begin walking around the house, attempting to determine which alarm is making the noise.

Second, when it goes into the death throes of constant, unrelenting chirps, it will always occur between the hours of 2 and 4 a.m.

Seriously, I've got one chirping its fucking head off right now; the whole way through my last entry. Once that entry was posted, I began the process of determining which alarm it was. The chirping stopped until I sat back down to write this. Now it's chirping away.

Fuck!!!!
2 Comments
Kansas Sucks - Part 1 of Many
Posted:Sep 15, 2018 9:03 am
Last Updated:Sep 16, 2018 11:36 am
3489 Views

A few of my previous posts have alluded to the challenges of living in Kansas, but they don't tell the whole story. Having lived on the East Coast all my life, I didn't realize what I'd be getting myself into by moving here. I figured KC was a halfway decent metro area and the US had become so homogenized...how bad could it be? This is the first part in a series I wrote for a blog I post elsewhere, outlining empirical aspects of the total suck that is Kansas.

For those whose first reaction to these posts is 'well, move the fuck back, asshole', it's not that easy. First, the job offer I received to get me to the flat lands was quite attractive. Also, there's the little matter of the section of my contract that requires me to repay the $20k in relo money I was given, should I leave inside of five years. Therefore, any comments challenging me to move back to Richmond should include a separate pm requesting account numbers in order to wire me the $20k I'd have to pay back.

Also, for those who take issue with my bashing the state, those who live here mostly recognize the state sucks as well and bemoan it's shortcomings.

Moving along, let's begin with the DMV.

The DMV is never fun, regardless of where you live. However, this week, Kansas took the experience to a new and painful level for me. In this state, you must traverse a multi-stage process for titling / registering your vehicles, when you move from another state. First, you must present the vehicle and title to the Kansas Highway Patrol for them to validate the VIN's match, then do the DMV purgatory. I took both of my cars for the VIN check, a few weeks ago; each requiring over an hour of waiting and messing about with apathetic civil servants.

Wednesday morning, I set out for the drivers license facility (different than the DMV) and managed to knock that out in about an hour. Not bad for the typical government parade of sloths. What made me chuckle is the temporary DL I received, which looks like a bar receipt; on thermal paper and everything. This thing has to last 30-45 days; imagine trying to keep a receipt from Target that long (in your wallet). Both PA and VA (the two other states in which I've lived) had the capability to create the card on site, so you walked out with a real license.

Bar receipt in hand, I trekked to the DMV to finish the process. After waiting the proper 25 minutes, I was called to window 12, where I presented my completed paperwork. The drone behind the counter told me I must have handed her the wrong title, because the inspection sheet noted a KTM motorcycle. I don't own a motorcycle which meant the damned inspection station screwed up. Back in the car, I trudged to the KHP facility, where I was told to sign in and take a seat. I responded 'I don't plan on being here long enough to need a seat. You need to remedy this mixup and have me on my way.' The woman manning the counter looked at me and, I swear on my grandmother's grave, looked at me in confusion and asked 'remedy?' I glared at her and said 'fix'. 'Oh, okay; wait a minute.' A few minutes later, I made the return trip back to the DMV. I approached another counter, this time, and presented my now correct paperwork.

'Do you have your VA registration?'

'Uh, no...it wasn't on the list of documents I was to provide, based upon your website.'

'Well, I need it to determine timing for your taxes.'

It's obvious I had the registration for the vehicle I was driving, but the reg for my other car was, shocker, in my other car.

Thus, I found myself making another trek, still nowhere near completing my task. After grabbing some lunch, kicking a few kittens, and otherwise releasing my frustrations, I returned to the DMV. This time, I had everything I needed and was able to complete the full transaction. Although, the final act was to pay KS property tax on my cars, which was 20% higher than what I paid in VA. I pretty much said to the drone behind the counter 'you've got to be kidding! You charge more than a real state and still have shit roads and services. How the hell do you charge this much?' Not surprising I received no response on that one.

In any case, I'm now legal in the state of...I can't even say it.
5 Comments
Date From Hell, Kansas Style
Posted:Sep 14, 2018 7:17 pm
Last Updated:Jan 1, 2019 11:41 am
3543 Views

A little story of a date from hell I had this summer (previously posted elsewhere).

Her profile and initial round of notes indicated she was a special needs teacher. She was quite attractive, well educated, and well spoken. I'll fast forward through much of the intervening communication and provide the salient facts. On the topic of sex, she wanted it. I'm fairly skilled at creating images, which resulted in her specifically stating we'd meet for dinner and she'd come over and begin to explore her submissive side. I do love me some exploration. We both seemed to want a genuine relationship and I parroted her desires, in that aspect of our communication.

At this point, I'll mention recognizing a few red flags, including how her successful, and apparently fuck nuts, attorney husband had traded her in on a younger model. But considering she earned two masters degrees, and worked with special needs , she didn't register as an Out of Work Trophy Wife.

The day before our date, she went a bit dark, cutting email down to a single note. I asked her if everything was okay, at which point she told me she thought I was pushing for something more serious than she wanted. I responded that I had no interest in jumping into anything. Her note made it clear she didn't accept what I'd told her. Perhaps I'd have changed her mind if I'd mentioned that there's no way in hell I want to establish anything remotely resembling roots in fucking Kansas. (more on my hatred of the state in another entry)

By the time our date rolled around, I knew there was no way she was coming home with me. She arrived decked out in designer clothing and admittedly, looked quite delicious. Dinner was full of vacuous conversation, where I learned she actually wasn't teaching, or really working at all. She was dabbling and not happy with any of her teaching options. That one wasn't an immediate bell, because I was still determining whether I could get her in the sack. Sorry, I'm a guy after all. Dinner ended, with no conversation about her coming home with me, so I broached the topic. As expected, she declined, sticking to her story of my wanting to move too quickly and how she didn't want to hurt me. I commented that she had clearly made up her mind before coming to dinner, which she denied. I'll come back to that.

I made the mistake of somehow giving her the impression I was interested in why she came to dinner, knowing she wasn't going home with me. Oh shit, was that a mistake.

This woman let me have it with everything she could think of:
Rushing into a relationship,
How she didn't like the phrasing I used in one of my notes
How I didn't apologize properly for something she felt I needed to apologize.

She was put off that I couldn't come up with any sexual fantasies, when she asked (sorry, they're not really fantasies after they've been fulfilled).

Then, she berated me for foisting fantasies onto her (except they weren't fantasies, but dirty things most other women enjoyed).

She took issue with things I'd said that I never said; those had to have come from some other guy.

On and on it went, with no end in sight. I've had women I'd been dating for months tell me off in a shorter amount of time than this woman I'd just met. She'd run through her list of transgressions, then circle back to the beginning, finding some new grievance to add for the next rotation. I've never experienced anything like this!

I did everything I could think of to indicate the conversation was over, to gracefully make an exit. I did this twice, but she wasn't losing any steam! In order to eject from this ride to hell, I wound up doing something I've never done to a woman before. I got up and walked out on her, muttering something to the effect of 'have a nice life'.

What a truly horrible encounter.

On top of it all, she had this lovely sense of entitlement and air of self-importance. I had a difficult time not blurting out, 'listen princess, you're just an educated, unemployed woman, who hasn't accomplished jack. You may want to back your attitude down a bit.'
Transparent and shallow; not the things I look for in a woman.

To add insult to injury, I spent $30 on some fucking grapefruit flavored Absolut that she asked for me to have for her. The money has nothing to do with it, but I don't appreciate of the bitch every time I open the freezer. I sure as hell won't drink it. Anyone want a bottle of nasty vodka?
9 Comments
Even Gorillas Blame The Cat
Posted:Jun 23, 2018 8:08 am
Last Updated:Jun 23, 2018 7:25 pm
4172 Views

It seems Koko, the gorilla, passed this week at the age of 46.

She apparently had quite the personality, and with the ability to sign over 1000 words, was able to share it with others. Koko had a pet cat, she named All Ball. The best story I've heard about Koko was her ability to scapegoat All Ball, just like a person would.

When no one was around, Koko managed to rip a sink out of the wall in her habitat. When the humans returned, they asked Koko who ripped out the sink.

Koko signed, "The cat did it."


Sad that Koko is with us no more, but she's left her mark for showing a gorilla can often display more humanity than humans.
3 Comments
Safety Is Important - Flotation Devices
Posted:Jun 18, 2018 8:39 pm
Last Updated:Jun 20, 2018 10:32 am
4316 Views

Well, I've reached a point where I'm back to the online dating world and have noticed something new about women in Kansas. Damn, there are a lot of them here with implants! These enhanced blouse bunnies are easy to spot, because chests just don't match the rest of these women's bodies. I'm sure there are plenty of women with implants who seek a more natural look, and you'd never know without a feel test, but these women have chosen the porn star big wahwahs route. No way you could miss those pontoons.

Giving it some thought, this trend shouldn't be much of a surprise; of the first observations I made, viewing dating profiles, was the rather robust trade in cosmetics, here in the KC area.

And while finding time to pen this short 'holy shit, lots of fake sweater meat here' entry, I've also encountered a bunch of women who seemingly wear false eyelashes all the time. As with many of these things, I encountered woman in particular who had fake lashes so large, they prevented her from wearing sunglasses and smeared her windshield, which hened my awareness to them on other women. But even in the most casual photo, there's full makeup and accoutrements.

I'll resist the temptation to venture further into what the dedication to bolt on's and such say about some. It's a woman's body and she's free to do with it as she chooses. Perhaps it's a thing, here in flyover states. People sure as hell don't spend their on travel or other enrichment, so they might as well buy a set of rockin' tamales. Some major league yabos, I tell ya.

And yes, I enjoyed working in as many euphemisms as I could in the short entry; because like most men, I'm twelve and easily amused.
1 comment
Welcome To Kansas!
Posted:Jun 9, 2018 8:48 pm
Last Updated:Jun 10, 2018 6:35 am
4233 Views
I've alluded to the difficulty I've been having meeting a good fit, here in Kansas. There are a few key reasons, which I really do promise I'll get to. Until then, I'll just leave this here...
3 Comments
The Girl Who Owned Nothing - The Turkish FWB
Posted:Jun 6, 2018 3:36 pm
Last Updated:Jun 23, 2018 8:12 am
4504 Views

As promised, here's the rest of the story about the FWB I mentid in my previous entry. This is a copy paste from my other blog, with no updates or other edits.

Preface: Most of the names, places, and details in this post have been changed, or omitted, to protect the identities of those portrayed. These obfuations do not materially impact the story. This post also introduces the use of green font, which will be utilized to denote when a particular sentence is pure sarcasm. There have been issues with some readers taking everything I write literally, so this should assist in clearing that up.

Over the , I've encountered just about every personality type and disorder can, but recently I ran across some whose actions made it clear they were messed up, but in way I just couldn't put my finger on. I was friends with this person for a period earlier this year. Fadwa was highly educated with a couple of doctorates, cute, and an international traveler, according to her Match profile. We traded a few notes before my better judgment took over; I told her I wouldn't date her because she was separated. If you've read my post on the topic, you'll understand why. She was disappointed and initially tried to convince me to reverse my decision. That wasn't happening, so we agreed to be friends. Fadwa shared that 20 ago, she emigrated from a middle eastern country, was Muslim, and a virgin when she married her husband. She said she could probably use some friendly assistance navigating the world of online dating, considering her lack of life experience. I agreed to offer the insight I'd gathered over the past several .

She would share 'shots' of the various men she was communicating with and ask my opinion on each. Most weren't accompanied by enough information to offer much insight, but a few were quite clearly s to stay away from, in my experience. who became a source of friction between Fadwa and myself was Nick. She shared how Nick was smart, successful, witty, etc. which made him sound like a good match for her. Then she shared that Nick was a recovering alcoholic. Danger, Will Robinson! She said he was sober and did yoga, running, and a few other athletic endeavors to assist in maintaining his sobriety. I warned her that she'd do best to steer clear of a former addict (having experience with this, myself) and that his sobriety seemed fragile, considering all the work he was putting into propping it up. She chose to ignore my input and went out with him anyway.

At some point, our friendship expanded to include benefits. She wanted to experience all the sexual freedom and pleasure she'd been missing, having only ever been with a man who sometimes wouldn't even get his clothes off before finishing. I made the offer and she accepted. And yes, this is germane to the story.

On either their first or second date, Nick flaked. I don't recall where the photo was (house, ph, etc.) but Nick saw of Fadwa and her hubby together, it freaked him out, and he disappeared, saying he couldn't take seeing her with another man. At that point, I more strongly advised her to put him out of her mind and said, very specifically, that he seemed to be on the verge of a relapse. Freaking out at the thought of some you're interested with another is rewy to begin with, but after dates? That's just ary. She told me she really liked him and still wanted to see him.

Long story short, she went to visit him Saturday night, and he was drunk. Wow, what a shock! No saw that coming! But he convinced her that he had just started and this was his first relapse. Sure, because an addict would never lie about something like this. I did my best to make Fadwa realize this guy couldn't be trusted. That addicts will lie their asses off to every; I sent her a ton of source material to back up what I was saying. She was convinced otherwise, repeatedly telling me 'he's always been hst with me'. Of course he has.... She wanted to him get sober in the hopes they could date again. Ladies and gentleman, I give you the h of naivete.

To be clear, I'm not unsympathetic to her situation. Having feelings for some who isn't healthy for you or emotionally equipped for a relationship sucks. In fact, I can empathize, because despite my best efforts, I still have feelings for the woman I've mentid in previous posts, whose abandonment issues destroyed our relationship. It's not just your rational and emotional sides duking it out on this particular issue. Logic says 'we care about each other, we're both available, and neither of us are in prison, so we should be together!' But you can't and attempting to wrap your head around that can be maddening. In any case, the strong feelings Fadwa had were out of place, after dates.

At some point, Nick was temporarily put on the back burner and a new cast of characters came into , of whom became the straw that broke the camel's back for me. She wasn't terribly interested in most of the men, save who looked good on paper. I shall call him Gomez. She pursued meeting Gomez but noticed what she thought were a few red flags, and solicited my input. For the sake of brevity, I'll just say he was attempting to 'couple' himself to her before they'd even met. I told her those were signs of either intimacy or abandonment issues. I warned her to be cautious, which seemed to motivate her to interact with him with him further. Gomez revealed a great deal about his past to Fadwa, which she then shared with me. This guy's history could have been included in a textbook for abandonment issues. Mother died, father remarried, new wife didn't like so was shipped off to live with family in Europe, previous significant other died, the list goes on. I practically yelled at her to stay away from this guy; to learn not make the same mistake I had. Seriously, if there's thing I've got a ton of experience on, it's abandonment issues.

Throughout this period, conversations between Fadwa and I had become increasingly tense. I openly shared my frustration that she continued to make poor dating choices, despite having my guidance to prevent her from doing so. I pointed out that in every instance, what I'd said to her had been spot on, and listed them off by . I'd correctly called out Nick as being fragile and predicted his relapse. Before that, I'd provided input on how her mental well being had been impacted by an emotionally abusive husband and that she should break off contact with him. That he was continuing to manipulate her. Her therapist told her the exact same things as I did; that, she took seriously. But she repeatedly ignored my input. It doesn't take much of an imagination to realize this dynamic became incredibly frustrating to me. It even felt a bit insulting.

She told me she listened to my advice, but made her own decisions. I have to admit her response grated on me a bit because she just didn't get it. What I offered wasn't advice; advice implies an opinion. You ask for advice on whether the green dress or the blue looks better on you. Whether you should study engineering or marketing. What I was offering was informed guidance that comes from possessing vastly greater life experience than her as well as my knowledge of human behavior. As parallel example, I'm not a certified mechanic but have wrenched on almost every car I've owned. So, I know a few things about them. Enough to be able to recognize that if a wheel has lug nuts missing and the others having thread of engagement, said wheel will fall off. That outcome is almost a certainty and well beyond the level of opinion.

The conclusion of every of these exchanges was always the same. Fadwa would push her bad choices off on others. Things were left 'in God's hands' or it didn't matter because fate had already determined her path. My personal favorite was her saying she'd pray for guidance. I'd ream at her that I'd already given her great fucking guidance if she'd open her ears. That I was fairly certain God would want her to use the fucking brain he'd given her. But she wouldn't be the driving; God needed to take the wheel. If you've read my religion post, you know that's something I consider to be beyond ignorant. And thus the title for this entry. She'd make bad decision after another and pawn it off elsewhere. She owned nothing.

I recall the crux of the last few conversations we had. She told me she was in love with Nick. Sure, that's emotionally healthy after a few dates. The last conversation we had ended with her considering dating Gomez again. I'd had about enough of her acting like a , so my warning at the time was only half-hearted. Besides, I'd said it all before and she never listened. The last words I heard from her were 'but I do like a smart man', referring to why Gomez was attractive to her. I know they were the last words because I hung up on her after she said them. I'd had enough and cut ties with her.

But the story, and the theme, don't end there. I'd apparently mentid her (well disguised, of course) in a previous entry and she sent me a less than pleasant note demanding I remove the reference. Of course, I always do what I'm told by people who ignore my advice. I'm certain she'll throw a major fit after reading this post. Anyway, included in the email was this gem:

I don't want to be friends with you. I feel much happier now that I am not in a fwb relationship as it is against my nature and interest.

It seems she didn't quite get my not having anything to do with her for a month meant our friendship was over. More importantly, without context, could infer that I'd manipulated this chaste and virtuous woman into being fwb's. Clearly I'd d an excellent job at it because she would regularly ask if she could come over for extra benefits, over and above the nights we'd planned. (In the interest of good taste, I'll skip deribing the less than virtuous things she wanted me to do to her.) But yet another decision that she couldn't take responsibility for and wanted to pawn off elsewhere. And that's why she'll forever be known as the girl who owned nothing.
1 comment
FWB And The Foundations Of Language
Posted:Jun 3, 2018 4:49 pm
Last Updated:Jun 23, 2018 8:13 am
4442 Views

I hate Kansas and regret moving here (more on that in posts to come), but I remain single (another topic I'll cover). Because I plan on getting the fuck out of here as soon as it's feasible, I don't have much of a desire to meet 'someone special' and put down roots. However, there are certain needs that remain unfilled, obviously, so I've been on the hunt for something more casual.

Early last week, I found a woman on another site who said she was looking for a friend with benefits. Perfect, I thought, and sent her a note. What followed was an exchange that continues to befuddle and frustrate me, a little. I'll spare you the blow by blow, but when I began moving the conversation into naughtier waters, she made it clear we'd have to develop a connection before we jumped into the sack. That she loved her last FWB and wanted the same thing in a new one.

I sort of scratched my head and responded that the absence of an emotional connection is an existential requirement for FWB arrangements. That even the Oxford Dictionary defined it as a casual sexual relationship and all of my previous FWB arrangements fell within that dynamic. She said FWB can mean different things and it comes down to those who are engaged in it. And why was I so hung up on definitions? At that point, she also accused me of mansplaining. Clearly, there are at least two words / phrases that don't mean what she thinks they do.

The point I decided to not try to make with her is that shared meaning of words and phrases are how we effectively communicate with one another. It's the basis for fucking language! We can't just decide to adopt our own meaning for generally accepted words and concepts or language breaks down. If you consider hiking to be wearing hiking boots while standing up on a long board as it rides a wave, you can't just say 'Perhaps I do hiking differently than the textbook definition.' No, you're not hiking, you're surfing! Likewise, if you're expecting an emotional connection to a FWB, you're doing it wrong.

Hoping your weekend was more fruitful than mine!
12 Comments
Russian_Anna
Posted:May 20, 2018 7:44 pm
Last Updated:May 25, 2018 10:04 am
4047 Views
Gotta love a quality bot. They're getting better; she even was able to name a KC restaurant.
4 Comments

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