it’s after 12am but i still consider it friday night — which it is as time is relative and it’s only pertains to what we want it to pertain to. right. so it’s friday night and rob has just left. moe and alisha had left earlier after we were all hanging out watching porn (on channel 495 — the TEN network, thanks) and critiquing what we were seeing. Alisha surprised us by naming the fleshy party between the labia (basically your clit) by calling it “roast beef” when a some what money shot showed the nether regions of some perky young babe.
I don’t know what it is about some of the porn we watch but the women look bored and lack any kind of immagination. Why do porn if your heart isn’t going to be into it. I know, big shocker, it’s the money. But fuck, if i was getting into porn, i would all be up in that shit. Or at least faking it. The four of us discussed about directing and starring in our own porn videos. Thankfully, some of them have actually got the training to direct/produce so it wouldn’t be that hard. Scary thought.
But I will pay homage to three of my greatest porn links that I think everyone should buy from:
www.blowfish.com
www.gamelink.com
www.stockroom.com
Btw, i’m in the market for really good still of vintage porn. Pre- Betty if you will. Digital or analog is fine. If anyone knows of any place, let me know. thanks.
x0x0,
lisa
Author: pookiebear
morality and ethics girl
So there I was, standing in line at World Market yesterday evening, with my cute little basket hanging off my arm and adorable plaid oven mitts twirling off my fingers. Ahead of me were the Two Fat Ladies © who were bitching/moaning about the price of the sale items and their 5 dollar bottles of champagne. I was not in a hurry and I did not have any particular place to go. The line behind me seemed to be getting long however, so the clerk called for backup and when the second cashier showed up and asked for next in line, Ken and Barbie jumped at the chance and cut in front of me and several other folks. They were not apologetic about jumping the line, they just did. Other people quickly followed suit and i went from being second in line to the last.
I’ve been hearing for awhile now about how ever since 9/11 people have been getting nicer and nicer. We’ve become a more polite society and a more reasonable one. We are gracious and kind and considerate. Am I the only one who feels like this is a bunch of bullshit and that we are just deluding ourselves? What ever happened to spending 20 seconds to say thank you or even write a nice note for a job well done. Why or how have we become so jaded that we simply do not care any more?
I do not know.
I realised the other day that this was was the reason why I was so angry recently. I am truly sick and tired of people being rude and inconsiderate. From everything from saying please and thank you to not using turn signals when driving. I’m tired of women like the two fat bitches who rather shove products they didn’t want to the side and hide them from the cashier than to give them to the cashier so that he can restock them. I’m tired of people getting short with me when I ask a question because they are being inconsiderate and won’t pay attention to me. I’m sick of being just being mean for no other reason other than to be mean. Not everything is my fault and hence it shouldn’t be treated that way. I’m sorry that the mere thought of spending more than 5 bucks on champagne gives you the willies but that gives you no right to to be rude to the clerk. He just works there. Ken and Barbie could have hold off a few extra minutes to let others through.
I mean, think about it. Stand in line somewhere and watch how people will shove and push to get to the front. Very rarely since 9/11 have I been anywhere where people were not being totally inconsiderate. Take Baltimore Aquarium for instance. Mark and I had stood in line getting tickets and this woman a few paces back lights up and smokes a cigarette WHILE IN LINE. Now you are probably saying to yourself ‘lisa, you used to smoke’ and yah that’s true, but I never was inconsiderate to those around me and i certainly would never smoke in a public place, in line that was packed tighter than sardines. I started coughing from the smoke and Mark swapped places with me because I was seriously thinking about bitchslapping this woman in the face.
in which: lisa gets confused
I’ve been sitting here moving like a sloth today. In fact, if i moved any slower, I’d probably be dead. I’m paying homage to the slugs i saw last night when I was outside at midnight varnishing a chest to hold my linens in. i got these flash brilliant points of light when i was varnishing that i could turn this hobby of one into a project in case i left my job. which is on my mind, a lot, losing my job. it ranks up there with leaving, moving, and being sexy. some would say my train
of thought seems to range down the pretty shallow range. I’d say it’s pretty human.
i just watch a pretty dreadful movie, Kate and Leopold. If you haven’t seen it, I don’t recommend it and the only cute thing was Natasha Lyonne playing Meg Ryan’s admin assist and she gushing over bodice rippers. I love Natasha in just about everything she’s done, except But I’m a Cheerleader!, because that was simply crap. Art house films for the most part seem to be filled with subversive need to push the boundaries because they can not because it actually means something. Modern art does not speak to me, however I like Kandinsky. Go figure that one out.
I have this thing about smells, always have. This weekend I went walking around the mall and was opening up bottles of cologne to sniff to see if i could find a new scene for myself. Foolish counter girls at the stores. Why is it that they assume that if you look like a bum you can’t buy anything? I could buy/sell their damn counter several times over. I did it a few weeks back before my birthday party when i bought out Clinique counter and the woman was amazed (and hooked me upon some free crap as well, which is a good thing considering how much i spent).
i wondered around and sniffed.
CK
—-
it was your smell
that’s all i could remember
laying
down on the sofa, on the
bed
closing my eyes and thinking
of
you
—–
the winner is…
not me.
too much inspiration and not enough creativity. i miss them all and apparently that’s a bad thing. apparently it’s wrong. it’s always wrong.
i’m waiting for the dam to burst and i don’t have any towels to stop the leaks. and i’m glad I don’t, because once the dam bursts open then perhaps we can all save ourselves instead of lying to each other on a daily basis. I’m back to looking at people through green-colored glasses, wishing life was really like that over on that side and knowing that they are mere shallow humans walking around in their lean cuisine and abtastic bodies.
i’ve not had a cigarette in 60+ days and my mouth feels like shit. Nothing can make the taste go away, so what do I do? I eat and I consume mass quanties of water and it stilld oesn’t go away.
———
i’ve written before about my dream of the mystery lover who whom i’d never see but yet he was always with me. the mystery lover whom i knew was a brunette but yet i never saw his face. I have all these qualifications in my head of what they are like, this person. These qualifications that I’ve been fine tuning since i was a wee tot, and today i said to myself “Fuck. it.”
i miss him/them. it never was. i miss their smell.
———
it was your smell
that’s all i could remember
laying
down on the sofa, on the
bed
closing my eyes and thinking
of
you
the freshmen
I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about life and what not. More so than usual, as it were. Basically thinking where I’m going to go once I leave Paul and what direction my life will be heading at that time. i have been sitting on the fence watching both sides and I’m not quite sure which way to lean, if any.
several themes have been swimming in my head, such as friendship and how to be good. both have been ping ponging against my head like there is no tomorrow. i need to deconstruct.
m. and i got into a disagreement if you will, this week and our relationship is now considerably strained. it seems that no matter what i say, it comes out all wrong to him. at least that is what i think.
coupled with my own lovely sense of paranoia, i am probably making it into a much major deal than i thought or think it is. the bottom line is, we are not speaking to each other right now and it hurts. i have thought back and recognized times when there were weeks/months when we didn’t speak to each other. the difference being that you sometimes don’t know what you have until it’s almost gone and then it wasn’t almost gone and now i feel like it is, I realized that he was a better friend than I gave credit for. He’s not an angel by any chance and I’ll mention that in a second but still, he’s one of my closest friends and I’d hate to lose him over something that could be worked out. i think.
the second incident this week was when b. said something she shouldn’t have in public. she, in short, inferred i was sleeping or wanting to sleep or want to start an affair with a mutual friend. now, she will tell you that she is not inferring anything, other than she thinks it’s “odd” that i want to spend time with said friend. What she failed to do was put together how it was circumstantial evidence. such as, said friend and i hung out together a few weeks back because b. and her bf went to dinner without us and we both had made plans with them. Mutual friend and i got together a few days later as he had left some stuff at our house. I also invited mutual friend to dinner a few times as well as to go back up to Baltimore with me to see more of the Inner Harbor. I’m such a little heathen!
I plainly, really, do not like people who sit there and run their mouths and think it’s okay, especially when it’s inferring shit that isn’t happening just because they think it’s “odd”. It down right angers me. Paul is a very temperamental guy and gets blown out of shape if the wind blows wrong, so saying crap like this in front of him isn’t doing anyone any good.
In short, please don’t spread my bidness around if you don’t know all the facts. I tried to communicate to her how I didn’t appreciate what she was saying. She said she didn’t start it, i did by mentioning i asked him to lunch. See, personally, I don’t make the correlation between how asking someone to lunch = hot sex. But apparently it does somewhere somehow. At any rate, she then started jumping down my throat about something that didn’t have anything to do with me. When I mentioned to her that this has nothing to do with me, she got huffed and said how i should care if i care about j (her boyfriend). This woman is all over the damn place. The amazing thing is that everyone but her and her bf see how her words were wrong. Whatever. I told her bottom line is we will agree to disagree and she invited me to tell her what she did was wrong — but at this point I don’t think it matters.
Since bad things come in threes, the final thing was at work. Apparently my next up level manager is either having issues with me or something else is going on, i have zero clue. The reason I am saying this is because she called me into her office with my immediate supervisor (which I found out later that she was not supposed to) and started comparing me to co-workers who no longer work there, which was an insult to me. I got miffed because not only did she remove my team lead status, but my new backup is not up to par technically. She said that she did it for my backup to have a bar to reach to, i blanched. I don’t buy this BS any longer. She also said my lateness is a problem — which I mentioned that there were several co-workers who repeatedly were late every day as well as those who took 2hr lunches as well as those who leave work 1/2 hour+ early. I said hey, if I’m in the wrong, fine. But i want to make sure that you are being fair across the board here. She said she’ll look into it. Right. I’m sure she will. I am not quite sure what I’m going to do about that little instance but I’ve gone and gotten counseling from non-involved persons. I guess my quandary is, why kill myself to protect myself for a job that i feel burned out by?
friends classification:
COWARDLY LION-TYPE: M. falls into this type. You know these kinds, very easy to spot. They are there through thick and thin as long as it doesn’t concern them. But when the chips really fall or you try and have some sort of substantial conversation with them, it falls fucking apart. They curl up and hide. I’ve noticed that when I push M., M. doesn’t push back. I know his issues but he seems to timid to really take charge and be there, really, as a friend. example: He offered his place to stay in case shit got bad with Paul and then reneged it. Said his sister thought it was a bad idea. Too coincidental for me, thanks. I could be reading too much into this, but hey, that’s my charm.
ME-ME’S: B. and a few other of my friends fall into this type. It is never about you, it’s about them. If you fall and break your ankle, they broke same ankle but worse. It’s competition with them. And it’s about attention gathering, and people buy into this lock stock and two broken barrels. The times I’ve watched people get suckered in to this and I just want to shake them for being silly.
Fakies: Maybe I should just walk the fence.
with a girl like you
one of my coworkers, whom i’ve nicknamed HIM, recently has started speaking to me again. The reason why this is remarkable because our relationship is damn fucking weird. Shortly after he broke up with his girlfriend of several years, he started hanging out in my cube. Then we started hanging out for lunch, going to have sushi. we would email each other every day and went back and forth for awhile, even while he was dating gf #2. Then gf #2 and he broke up and he kept bugging me to go clubbing with him (like that would go over well with paul! hah!) and then gf #3 came into the picture. My birthday party was a few weeks ago, and I invited him to show. He said he was and RSVP’d that he and the gf were going to show up. They never did.
It bothered me that he didn’t show up. I couldn’t figure out why it bothered me so much but I think because I thought we’re being friends or starting to be friends. I feel so awkward socially sometimes and I can only attribute that to the fact that I don’t go out with Paul at all, and our social circle is short.
when we were kids
he left me when we were kids.
i was 19 and he was 21 at the time when the affair had started. mere children. shortly after i had turned 20, the man who i had thought was the one i was going to marry me, was planning on marrying someone else.
for a decade he has haunted me.
i moved as far away as possible and yet i still see him nearly everywhere i go. one day i was having lunch with a friend and I had thought I had seen him and his wife walking by us, leaving the restaurant. i was three thousand miles from home and i think this is him.
it wasn’t, obviously, he.
it wasn’t me he had wanted, it was her. it wasn’t him at the restaurant, it was someone else. but seeing or thinking i saw him was enough, if even for that briefest of seconds.
when he and i lived in the same city, i used to see him occasionally around town. driving down the street, going into clubs, seeing him in stores. he was always alone and she was never around.
when he had broken up with me, i was devastated. with him, i was everything i thought i could be. i was loved and loving. old and young. pure and a whore. he made possible everything in my heart that had know even known existed or was too scared to show. my own sensual and sexual identities were pushed forward and ripped apart when he was around.
i thought he was the one. i thought we were going to get married.
this to me was love.
it was christmas 1992. I was wearing some paisley/floral type dress i had purchased for the informal christmas party that was being held at his brothers place. i remember watching his brother and his wife and thinking ‘this is what i want. i want to marry him and bear him children and we can have this fantastic life together’. i truly believed that. i envied his brother and adored his sister- in-law. his nephews were not that much younger than we were at the time. I remember us leaving and holding the jewelry box they had given me for christmas that year. his mother had given me a ring that belonged to her mother several months prior to all of this. i think they thought that i was the one, and i wasn’t. i do not know what happened to the jewelry box. the ring i kept and have lost it along the years.
harder, better, faster, stronger
on-line right now talking to some stranger in seattle, my brother in michigan and my high-school sweetheart who happens to now reside in Portland, OR. As I had stated in my livejournal, the past is falling out of the woodwork. First Josh and now Aaron.
I’ve been pacing myself outside myself recently to see what I was really like, you know, to everyone else. I used to think that I was unphotogenic but due to the recent rash of pictures that have surfaced, that little line will have to go back. So I look at these pictures and what I see and what I think I am and how
people perceive me are obviously three different things. I didn’t like the young woman in the images I saw. I didn’t like the poses or the facial expressions. I thought i was seeing a fat ugly whore. really. I’m not saying that to be negative but I am saying that to be true – at least to me. Now friends, friends say different things. They always have, but I don’t feel like I am a hot piece of ass. Now Alisha, she’s a hot piece of ass. She just oozes sensual and sex. Me on the other hand do not and I wish I did. And then the there is the opinion of me by me when I see myself in mirrors and what not. Depending on the view, I do think of myself as a hot piece of ass.
Infatuated with a lunatic and cornered by the muse
I’ll warn you, if cornered, I’ll scratch my way out of the pen
Wired, an animal
The claustrophobia begins
You think I’m scared of girls
Well maybe
But I’m not afraid of you
You want to scare me then you’ll cling to me no matter what I do
Tell you a secret
They shared a needle once or twice
I loved her, she loved me
We slept together a couple of times
You think I’m proud of this
Well maybe
But the shame you never lose
Infatuated with a lunatic and cornered by the muse
And it goes down every night
This must be what jail is really like
And I will scratch my way out of this pen, again
Lonely?
Maybe
Or maybe not
It all depends
Your ideal, your image
Your definition of a friend
If what you’re shoveling is company
Then I’d rather be alone
Resentment always goes much further than it was supposed to go
what jail is like by afghan whigs
I don’t know what has been my deal lately with Afghan Whigs, especially Greg Dulli. This is the second night in a row that I’ve been sitting here listening to various mp3s that I have spanning nearly their whole career. I felt like, to be honest, my whole life of emotion listening to their music. I felt pain, sorrow, pity, fear, love.
What was worse (or cute if you are into that sort of thing) is that on the way into work today, I was bopping along to them in the car cranked up and car dancing. I’m a wonderful car dancer BY FAR. Which brings me to this past saturday night: so there is this live band playing at my party, which is total coincidence. I won’t mention the details but in short those in my party were COMPLAINING about the loud music. Hell even paul acts like an old man when it comes to listening to music. The car stereo can’t be above x or else he pitches a fit. Home stereo is the same thing. Right now I’ve got head phones on so I can enjoy the sultry tones of that which is Greg Dulli.
It’s not really a choice of music but when I listen to tunes I want to feel like I’m either at a show, being sung to, being fucked while at the show or feel like i’m being possessed. I want to feel ALIVE when i listen to music, not this pamby ass shit that they pass for music these days. pfft on that.
let me in, i’m cold. all dressed up and no where to go.
Today was the grandiose day that I had to go to Anger Management training, and to be truthful, i thought (and expected) it to be a joke. The joke it turns out, was on me.
I hate these interpersonal training classes they give at work. For the most part, they are always taught by undereducated fuckwits who keep it boring and snoozefest. So yes, I was pleasantly suprised when we actually had someone teach the class who held a doctrate and worked in the field of mental health and has been teaching this for years! Woah. Impressive. Makes me wonder what WCOM does sometimes with its few brain cells.
when we two parted
it starts out with an obsession.
it always does.
it starts out with Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. I was in desperate and determined need to get their new cd. Which turns out is not really new, it’s two years old but you know the music biz, what is new last year is not necessarily fresh at the time. So i hunt and hunt for the damn thing and can’t find it. I don’t want to buy it online because i want instant gratification of having it in my hot little hands asap.
i end up finding it at barnes and noble of all places, hidden at the back of the ‘b’ bin. i grab it greedily, somehow expecting that someone else wants it (well considering everywhere else it was gone …). I walked around and then took it up to the semi-cute cashier who kept raving about the greatness of said cd. I nodded in agreement and toyed with buying some remix cd of Verve singles and passed on it. I got into the car and put the cd in and shivered in delight. turns out i knew BRMC from several other songs other than the one i had originally bought them for.
I keep playing the cd over and over. I take it into work where I speak to cute-guy-at-work (who, btw, dissed me on my birthday for a concert, but i digress) and get him to listen to the said cd. He then starts raving about it and then I kick myself in the proverbial ass because BRMC has been to DC TWICE.