Paul'S PlacE ❗ ⭕❗⭕ ❗⭕
These stories and irreverent points of view usually make sense... to me.
I hope you.ll share my smile.
(©April 2018-22 January Paul)
Keywords | Title View | Refer to a Friend |
Are There Advantages... To a Man With a Titanium Shaft... 😶
Posted:Feb 9, 2021 10:45 am
Last Updated:Aug 23, 2021 1:48 pm
"And then he says to the judge - well, if it were mine, I wouldn't have put it in MY mouth."

I almost choked on my vodka as the four of us sat there and burst out laughing. Jennifer had always reigned supreme as the queen of the triple entendre.
The waitress walked up and paused as we calmed down and wiped the tears from our eyes. She then cleared the table and settled fresh drinks in front of each of us.

Lynn looked at me and rolled her eyes as if to say, haven't we had enough? John caught Lynn's frown and playfully admonished her with a boisterous, "Oh, come on, we're celebrating Wednesday and no one's driving."

I smiled back at Lynn. She'd admit that even though Jennifer and John were a bad influence - and occasionally annoying - sharing a faithful mid-week chuckle had become an oasis in the otherwise empty abyss of our social lives. We looked forward to these weekly adventures; especially since we'd quit the choir.

A dartboard was vacant, and someone signalled us. Drinks in hand, we shuffled over to a spot by the far end of that dark oak wall and readied ourselves. I yanked the worn darts out of the battered and beaten board and eyed the faded bullseye; my undulating target was in sight. Now, if I could only stop seeing double, I might have a chance. I stood and waited for my opponent.

John *assiduously pulled out his custom leather holster. He diligently sharpened the stainless steel tips on all three of those 24 gm titanium gripped darts and gently caressed the fine *fletching with his fingers. Finally satisfied, he raised his head and confidently grinned at me.

I stared back at him and blinked... then took a gulp from my glass. Ok then, let's fling these fucking darts, I laughed to myself; determined more than ever - to beat this grinning ringer.

*assiduously ; with great care and perseverance.
*fletching ; the feathers of a dart.

Miracle Pills... and The Myth of Winning a Bet With the Devil... 😮❗
Posted:Jan 19, 2021 9:49 am
Last Updated:Feb 9, 2021 1:16 pm
Midnight had slipped by as he lay sprawled on his couch, casually flashing through a tessellation of channels, searching for porn.
Momentarily captivated by some frightening images, he gratefully concluded that he couldn't have been happier with his gut.

Especially after seeing all the gross agony others had just shared on his screen. To conclude, they offered a miracle pill, and THAT reassured him. He'd have a foolproof solution if his shit ever hit the fan... so to speak.

Familiar phantoms and late-night zombies lazily nestled in between his ears and began whispering twisted vespers; images of his destiny flashed.

He'd always counted blindness in his top three unwelcome fates; surrendering a brilliant auburn sunset would be unbearable.

The spirits grew more hostile as they chopped off all his limbs, rendered him reliant on strangers, and pushed him along like a hockey puck. For fuck's sake, that helpless aberration gave him shivers.

Those evil ghosts continued - of course - and plastered him with cancer, a tedious and hapless spillage of one's guts into the abyss of endless pain and pharmaceuticals. Infinite torture is the word that came to his mind. Those ghoulish whisperers then rekindled an older memory.

Once upon a time, he'd planned the perfect painless plot; in case he EVER lost a bet with the Devil. He had imagined a romantic summer car crash, yet he'd realized - no one could anticipate intersections. His fear? Despite unbuckled seatbelts, driving with the top-down and rocketing at speeds that would bleed outer limits, what IF he miraculously survived? Ugh. He wasn't a fan of vegetables.

He sat there, shook the horror-filled visions out of his head, and fidgeted with the remote - once again. What had he been searching for? Oh yeah, porn.

He flipped the button, then stalled and eagerly settled into an infomercial on channel 22 - featuring stainless steel steak knives. He had a set of polished chrome sheaths, but he never tired of watching anything that cut through shoes. He wondered if HIS blades could shear leather.

He smiled to himself - as he admired those bayonets sawing through a brick - and realized he should probably watch less television. He was too easily impressed and influenced by the suggestive trance that tube induced. Yet, he was glad he'd learned - earlier - about hope and the miracle pill; and 'hope' is what drives us all, right?

THAT, and free shipping, he muttered as he reached for his phone.

Are You a Slut in a Short Story... Or a Player In a Novel... 😮❗
Posted:Jan 12, 2021 10:41 am
Last Updated:Jun 5, 2021 10:08 am
"Here, let's drink this; it'll make that whole seduction, sex thing less repugnant", she laughed as she passed him his glass. It was only a couple of hours since they'd first met.

Rick had been comfortably settled on the park bench, casually watching the skaters leisurely twirl along and around the small lake. There were couples and families and those cocky teenagers who zipped through small gaps in the midday crowd at illegal limits.

Sarah grappled with the lack of friction and battled to keep her skates on the ice - without success. When her feet met the air for the fourth time, and she landed with a vicious thump, Rick stood up and walked over to see if she needed help.

The enigma of how attraction between two strangers is bridged isn't a formula. Many couples spend a lifetime building a connection; a shared basket of souvenirs and postcards sketched from good and not so good moments. They'll wonder if they love each other for who they are - or because sex is a treat, once in a while. And when THAT stops, well... at least there are those faded memories: for some, that's enough.

"Are you ok? That looked painful", Rick hovered over Sarah as his steadying hand, held her shoulder.

"I don't think skating likes me", Sarah laughed while grimacing, "Are you the lifeguard here?"

"No, Uhm... I'm not", Rick laughed, "just a concerned citizen keeping score. It looks like you could use a break."

Rick helped her up and gingerly, they shuffled over to his bench where they sat down. Sarah let him hold her freezing hands while they talked and laughed. It wasn't long before they'd spontaneously super boiled an inflamed 'chemistry' that sizzled and left them breathless with a carnal craving.

And then they were there; standing amidst Sarah's stuffed animals and replica voodoo dolls, as she approached him with two potions in hand. The dim light that hovered, never reached the cobwebs crouched low in dark corners or high enough to touch those dusty ceramic vessels peering down from up on top of the bookcase.

They weren't seeking a saviour or a witness to their lives. They scarcely asked questions; enabling untamed emotions to spill the promise of a guilt-free reward. The crucial fact was, they'd already changed their hearts, looked around at what the alternatives were and decided - they were sluts in what might be, a very 'short story'.

It was a chance they were willing to take.

The Official A*F*F Top Blogger Awards... For 2020.. 😊 ❗❗❗
Posted:Dec 31, 2020 9:51 am
Last Updated:Jan 28, 2021 4:37 pm
Yes, it's that time of year again, the annual - 'A*F*F Awards for Top Bloggers'.

We all know this has been a challenging year, so special thanks to all those who've put their best efforts into making 'Blogville' a welcoming, inclusive and entertaining place to visit.

*Official Rules*
1. Any blogger who posted regularly, compulsively or insensibly throughout the year was eligible.
2. Voting: Every one of us received the 'OFFICIAL BALLOT' via email - two months ago. The voting deadline for our favourite bloggers was yesterday.
3. Members votes counted for 49%.
4. The two Bobs - CIO & CEO of A*F*F - votes counted for 51%.
5. What is a blog?
Let's not quibble about what a blog is - this site is hardly representative of what it should be; A*F*F's definition of what they think it is will suffice.

Categories for Top Blogger this year include;

1 - Funniest Blogger.
2 - Most Diverse Blogger.
3 - Blogger with the Best Memes and Jokes.
4 - Blogger with the Best Recipes.
5 - Best Storyteller.
6 - Blogger with the Hottest and Clearest, Borrowed Pictures.
7 - Rookie of the Year.
8 - Best Daily Diary.
9 - Most Opinionated.
10 - Blogger with the Most Bus Tokens Distributed.

AND the WINNERS are:

The two Bobs faxed me the RESULTS, and here they are.
CLICK this picture below, to reveal the details.

Wow! I'm shocked at some of this year's recipients, but then again, who's to say anything about ballot stuffing, last-minute mail-ins, and those pissed off east coast voters.

Congratulations to all the winners!

Did your favourite blogger win?
Was there a category missed?
Should awards and 'Best of ' be abolished, and everyone receives a 'participation' ribbon?

Make your comments known and I'll pass them on to the Bobs.

We're all in a buttermilk cloud of sexy happiness and expectant eroticism, so let's keep on blogging.
Do You Have What it Takes to Prosper... as a Certified Sexuality Coach... 😊 ❗
Posted:Dec 17, 2020 10:29 am
Last Updated:Jun 5, 2021 10:26 am
My cell phone chimes daily. It's prodded by news sites and music feeds, and a half dozen other trivial pursuits that poke my curious mind. I might linger for a minute or two; a pocket of insight absorbed, then forgotten. But today, I received an invitation to become a - Certified Sexuality Coach; a lucrative six-digit income was dangled. Now, who could refuse such a ubiquitous proposal?

A 'measly' $997 for the introductory course and a 'paltry' $1,997 for the live, 5-day (four-module), certification lectures will;

- teach me how to transform sexual shame and trauma on this planet, into a healthy, fulfilling sexual connection and Erotic Freedom for my .

- provide me with support by a robust community of thriving sexuality coaches who'll help me be fully ME; unashamed and unleashed!

- enable me to have the most fulfilling, orgasmic sex life ever while making an INCREDIBLE living; coaching others to manifest the relationships and sex lives of their
wildest dreams.

"Wow! A roadmap for me to have it all", I thought to myself, "I've got to look at this more closely", so I did.

Descriptions of the curriculum were appropriately vague and impressively worded. Trademarked terms such as - Erotic Blueprint Technology™ and Accelerated Evolution™ sounded exotic.

Yet, it was when I read the testimonials - from actual graduates - that my eyes widened.

Roberta was a single mom with a 6-month-old, living on rice and beans. "It was a terrifying time in my life", she admitted. Remarkably, the first weekend that she graduated, she made $12,000 and has had consistent income ever since.

Gloria's tale was even more phenomenal. She's about to finish 2020 earning more than $500,000 (*that's five hundred thousand dollars*), and doing this number - in the year of the apocalypse.

And the cherry on the cake? Graduates will have their yearly certification fee - of $1,497 - included, free.

I know what you're all screaming, "Paul, are you crazy? There are only 60 available seats in that class. Do the math; what couple wouldn't pay $180 per session to improve their sexual health? All you need are 2,777 appointments, and half a million bucks are yours. Go for it, Paul."

Should I quit my job and pursue a lucrative career as an Erotic Blueprint Coach™? I'm thinking about it.

I'll keep you posted.

Lowering the Curtain... Do Any of Us Have a Real Choice... 🤔❗
Posted:Dec 11, 2020 10:44 am
Last Updated:Apr 5, 2021 8:50 pm
We asked her how she'd do it; his sister had worked out a spurious plan. She persuaded the nurses he wanted fresh air and wheeled him down the halls and into the van and along the road toward that church basement. That's where we all waited; where we all met him, to say goodbye.

Tony was the most violent drummer I'd ever met. His cascading rolls and sick frills were epic. Things he did on his drum kit - I could only dream of replicating. He, of course, was surprised to see us all there; 10 of his closest friends, musicians mostly. The beer flowed while the music played and we toasted meaningless invocations to his health; irrelevant pagan rituals born of habit.

Tony grinned from ear to ear as we all regaled him in stories and adventures we'd shared. Each of us had a moment or two, where we spoke with him and clutched his shoulder or arm and exchanged a thought. For a while we'd all forgotten why we were there; the beer had dimmed reality, and we were convinced there'd be a ' next time'

When he had to leave, he lifted his frail arms and waved. Tears spilt from his sunken eyes, but we knew he was happy. His sister bit her lip and tried to smile... she failed and inhaled a sob as she nodded to us and pushed his chair back to the van. We stood there and waved for the last time; then hung around till the beer was gone, and the vodka... and then the whisky. We were in that hall for a long while talking about Tony, retelling tales we'd all told before.

Tony passed away peacefully a month ago, with only his sister by his side. I was at home working when I got the message, but I wasn't sad. I smiled, knowing I'd had a chance to see him one last time - some folks these days aren't as lucky. I can't think of anything worse than being alone without a chance to say goodbye.

Choices - none of us has them when it comes to that final curtain, do we?

A Guaranteed Way to Meet New People... In The Time of The Bug... ❤️❗😎
Posted:Dec 3, 2020 9:29 am
Last Updated:Dec 18, 2020 10:50 am
There is no hope. None of us will meet anyone new during this time of the 'bug', or so we're all lead to believe. Certainly not if we follow social media, watch the news or practise civil responsibility. But what if I've found a guaranteed way to succeed - without any risk?

It happened the other day. I was standing by the avocados - squeezing them for ripeness - when she walked up to me and those green orbs.

Peeking above the Covid mask, were her unmistakable deep blue eyes; inviting pools of aquamarine that had always captivated my imagination. I was surprised and happy to recognise her.

"Hey, how are you? What's it been - more than a year?" I beamed under my veil.

"Must be," She replied.

"How's the family? Your daughters? "

"Great," she continued to describe her oldest's new position at a law firm and her youngest's push towards a Master's degree. I filled in the blanks about my two, and we shared a few laughs about how things have evolved over the years.

We went back and forth about current events and the health of our parents. But when I asked about her husband, her tone changed.

"We're no longer together."

I sensed her discomfort, "My apologies, I wasn't aware."

"No worries, it was a long time coming. Our divorce was peaceful. The girls are ok with it, and so am I."

We'd been lingering by those fruits for a while, and I didn't want to seem too needy, but I had to extend an invitation as naturally as I could, so I did.

"I've lost contact with some of my friends on Face*book; I should look you up again," I spoke as I threw a pair of avocados in my bag and prepared to walk away. She nodded and replied.

"I don't mind if we keep in touch, but I have a question - who are you?"

And with that query, the reality of our dialogue became clear. She had no idea who I was.

"Aren't you Linda from Kirkland? Didn't our go to school together?"

"I am from Kirkland, but I just moved here last year," she answered. "Looks like you thought I was someone else," and she began to laugh. At that point, I chuckled as well.

"It's these damn masks. I could have sworn I knew you," I lowered my disguise and smiled. She shifted hers and confirmed I had no clue who she was. We continued to laugh at our encounter.

"Sorry about that. My name is Paul."

"No problem. My name is Kathy. Perhaps I should give you my Face*book name so we can keep tabs on each other?"

And THAT'S how you meet strangers during this improbable period of our global history. I'm not suggesting this strategy will work all the time or predicting success for everyone who tries it. I'm merely pointing something out - for those who say it's impossible.

I have proof that there IS a way to meet. All you need are a cluster of avocados, a willingness to step out of your comfort zone and the skill to carry a friendly conversation.

We're all capable of that, aren't we?

Do All Women Have This Super Power... Over Men... 🤔❗
Posted:Dec 1, 2020 11:01 am
Last Updated:Dec 12, 2020 1:34 am
They sat at the kitchen table - two women and Dan. Their goal was to map a lucrative business deal that required another man's blessing. That man will soon fall prey to the sublime influence only a passionate female can provide.

Sex has a way of inspiring desired results, doesn't it?

Dan's lady sipped red wine and asked the other woman what her plan was.

"I'm gonna fuck that guy's brains out 'til he's convinced our idea will work," she chuckled.

"No! What you're going to do - is seduce him," chimed Dan's lady in a sultry tone, "there's a difference."

Dan's smile was wide as his lady winked and began her disquisition.

"Wear your sexiest panties and weave like a stripper. Lean in close to his ear and whisper with warm breaths; tell him how horny and wet you are. As you take off his clothes, pause when he's inches from your open mouth; he'll twitch when you're doing it right."

Dan gazed at his lady's lips as she continued.

"Make sure to tell him how big he is and how you've never had larger and how you love how he feels, throbbing inside of you. Then you'll arch the nape of your back and twist your head, so he knows that he's about to make you come. When you moan, sound like that first time you ever had an orgasm."

His throat parched, Dan reached for his drink and listened.

"Afterwards, you'll drape your thigh over him and nuzzle your cheek onto his chest. Then tell him that story about your parent's summer cottage and how you'd hide in the boathouse by the lake during thunderstorms and dream - of what it would be like to share your bed with a man. And you'll confess that you've never told this tale to anyone before."

Dan raised his eyebrows as if he'd once heard a similar anecdote.

"In the morning, you'll snuggle up to him, all warm and doe-eyed and slightly confused. And you'll admit you had the most memorable night of your life. Look into his eyes and squeeze out a tear; he'll love your honesty. And that's it - he'll be all yours."

Dan's once broad smile had waned - a bit - as he stared at his lady and blinked. Content with her lecture, she grinned and reached for her wine. The other woman sat silently, absorbing the minutia of her task - then spoke.

"But I still fuck his brains out, right?"

"Hell yeah!" Dan's lady beamed from ear to ear, "Always fuck their brains out when you want something from them!"

How To Disturb Shit On A Quality Sex Site...AND Get Away With It... 😊
Posted:Nov 24, 2020 11:12 am
Last Updated:Feb 16, 2021 10:39 pm
How would you disturb shit on a quality sex site and get away with it? And why would you do it? What a conundrum! Of course, I wasn't implying anyone detonates a point of view here; I DID say, 'quality website'.

FrankeeZee and I were commiserating on the phone the other day when the topic came up. Frankee is a top blogger - a member of another sex site - and shared with me some of his recent trials and tribulations.

"So this witch calls me a 'flaming bassist'; for fuck's sake - everyone knows I play the saxophone. She faked a phantom link and quoted herself babbling. What do you expect from a self-proclaimed princess who wears a plastic crown and doles out free bridge tokens to the insolvent? What decade did those trinkets become obsolete?"

I listened with amused interest as Frankee continued his rant.

"Yeah... then this one fucktard - who prances about wearing a silk jupe - had the balls to call me a 'raging workaholic'; I'm semi-retired. Get this, he's engraved his business cards with the motto - 'Yank my digit'. The irony is, rumors, he's an ex Boy Scout Leader or Priest or something like that. I thought those guys were supposed to fucking practise discretion?"

"You're making that stuff up," I interjected while laughing, "I don't know why you're getting so upset, Frankee. They're just vilipended words spewed by people who don't know you. Why bother? And how did you get yourself into THAT position? Ya musta said something ta piss them off."

"Paul, it doesn't take much. The sex site I'm on is filled with needy, judgemental people who have peripheral lives and a scant sense of humour."

"Really? I think you're being too harsh, Frankee. People are on your site for amusement, just like those over here. What happened to the thick-skinned, 'happy go lucky' FrankeeZee I used to know."

"Damn it, Paul, it's that fucking virus; it's zapping the strength outta me. It's making me crazy; I'm bored."

"I'm not going to disagree with you, Frankee, but it'll all get back to normal one day. Hang in there," I tried to sound reassuring, "So whatcha gonna do?"

"Nothing at all, Paul. I'm just venting. Now, if I had a friend...someone who had zero to lose, someone like you, for instance? Paul, get a membership on my site, log on and blast those assholes for me. What's the worst that can happen - they ban you for a day or two?"

I'm not about to pursue Frankee's suggestion... and he'll probably calm down. Imagine me, strutting into that plethora of parasites? EVERYONE is entitled to an opinion. After all, these sex sites are just for fun.

And everyone has their definition, of what shits and giggles are - right?

How to draw a fricken sheep.
How to Have Fun With Queens... Rope and Naked Games... 😮
Posted:Nov 18, 2020 10:27 am
Last Updated:Nov 25, 2020 1:29 am
"Bishop to Queen's Rook 4... checkmate," I declared while smiling at her.

Lynn looked at the chessboard, grinned and blinked. Several seconds passed before she finally tipped her King over and surrendered. She stood up and pushed her chair aside.

Provocatively she turned her back to me and playfully plunged her thumbs onto the sides of her white lace panties and then, gently tugged them down her thighs and along her legs.  She angled her supple body until she was finally completely bent over. Revealing all of herself to me, she then flicked her panties off with her fingers and toes.

I stared, mesmerized and swore I saw something between her legs had twitched. She twirled around and faced me.

"Why am I the only one who's naked, Paul? What other rules are there in this game of yours?" Lynn giggled.

I thought for a second.

"Spin around again. I want to see you in this light."

Lynn obeyed and turned clockwise, her arms by her sides. 

"Wait. Stop right there and don't move. Don't move a muscle!"

Her back was towards me once again. I stood up from my chair, took two steps and reached for her. My hands met her silky thighs, traced curved outlines on her hips then delicately brushed across her velvet belly. My fingers lingered, then slipped and fell between her legs and came to rest, just above a place where I knew she loved to be touched and tickled. I could feel her heat.

She arched her neck to her left and read my mind - as my lips met hers with a passionate kiss. As our mouths parted, she quickly spun to face me and began fumbling with the belt on my pants. I seized both her wrists and held them steady.

"No Lynn! We'll play the rest of this game in the bedroom. Go, I'll be right there," I kissed and released her. 

Lynn paused - momentarily disappointed - then gleefully ran towards the bedroom.

"Do I get the handcuffs or are we going to use the ropes this time?" she shouted from down the hall.

"Interesting query," I thought; I just wasn't sure. It was the toughest fucking question Lynn had asked me all day.

How Mastering Levitation... Can Satisfy Amorous Women... ❤️❗
Posted:Oct 22, 2020 10:53 am
Last Updated:Nov 18, 2020 1:02 pm
Magic is real. How else could my uncle have found a nickel in my ear if it wasn't? Exactly! It must be, and I've been a fan of that mystical science ever since.

I was just a when Ed Sullivan's guest amazed me. I watched as that trickster put his scantily clad assistant in a box and sawed her in half. Then - while her toes wiggled from one end and she smiled and blinked from the other - he separated the box in two halves and rolled them apart. What, I thought. Eventually, he put her back together. My parents suggested a midget, and mirrors were his associates. I knew they'd lied.

Years later, I sat in awe and watched as David Copperfield made the Statue of Liberty disappear. I don't think midgets (or should I refer to them as little people ) were involved; cynics blamed a slowly revolving stage. I'm sure they were mistaken.

The most credible proof for my belief in wizards was when I watched a David Blaine TV special. He'd thrown a deck of cards into a plate glass window and had the Jack of Hearts materialize on the other side. Well, I was impressed.

But later on - when he levitated off the ground - I knew he was a TRUE wizard. He distinguished himself from all those other wire monkeys who'd cheated. He'd mastered levitation! YouTube tried to taint his talent by showing me how he'd done it. I found their explanation less than satisfying.

In any case, I realized - long ago - that I'm a bit of a magician as well. With just a raunchy thought or two, I can levitate. And if I ever need a 4-hour guarantee, there's this thing called Viagra that I can buy. Now that's levitation any woman would be satisfied with; if I was lucky enough to run into one with my zipper open.

Yep... Good magic is something else, isn't it? I'm sure there's some deception you've seen that has you stumped. Or perhaps you can tell me how the heck David Blaine did that card trick?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A Sears Catalogue... And Secret Lives of Spurned Lovers... 😮❤️
Posted:Oct 15, 2020 11:47 am
Last Updated:Nov 20, 2020 7:58 am
I used to enjoy browsing the Sears catalogue. I'd glance at the pages and wonder which coffee table would define me? Could only one represent all of me?

Friends who'd visit would frown, but it was MY space, and I ignored their snotty appraisals. My style was more conformist when I'd go to work. I'd always make sure my belt matched my shoes, and my tie endorsed the shirt and suit I wore. That's a distinction we all share, isn't it?

Your public self isn't always your private you unless you decide to make it so.

Nobody at work knew that on weekends, I was committed to losing a portion of my hearing. Who'd guess that I was slamming a set of drums on a stage with three other crazies while building an ear-bleeding wall of sound?

Those good times and late nights wove themselves into a rhythmic expression of who I am. The hours near midnight? Now they were the most intriguing. People would inevitably morph into various shades of themselves.

She did.

We were playing a wedding in a hotel ballroom. They'd just rolled out the roast pig and buffet spread, and guests were having a great time. Others, already too drunk to dance, were slumped at their tables. Then there were the few who cried at every ballad we played. She was one of those - wrapped in a purple polyester dress and flowing tears.

Her long-time boyfriend had recently dumped her, and she was wallowing in self-pity. She wept her entire life story to me - in between sets. At one point, she leaned towards me and whispered;

"Let's go to my room and fuck."

Before I could reply, she excused herself and dashed into the bathroom to puke. Later, as the band packed up, she staggered out of the hall with a friend in hand and waved goodbye.

On the following Monday, I was shocked to see her again.

She was strutting up the hallway of the office tower I worked in. I did a double-take, and she stopped. She was wearing a designer business suit and carried herself as if she had a position with a title - and a private parking spot. She turned white as we shared an awkward silence. Finally, we traded a few words, and she continued walking to wherever she was going.

It's bizarre when someone's public image smacks into their private one, isn't it? Ever have one of those bumps? I never saw her after that.

Oh, and my eclectic coffee table? My wife got rid of it when she moved in. She said it was, 'A bohemian piece of shit.'

I thought it was a great place to keep my Sears catalogues. Someone still prints them, don't they?

Seven In a Row... Why and What The F**k is With the Number Seven?
Posted:Oct 11, 2020 3:09 pm
Last Updated:Nov 23, 2020 11:08 am
We all move in cycles of seconds, minutes, hours, and days and we ALL - knowingly or not - worship the number 7. It's imbedded into every fabric of our lives, even though we may not be aware of it.

" Reeeelee... " you ask me skeptically.

"Yepper," I reply with a smirk.

Let's summarize some important sevens on this planet.

7 dwarfs
7 oceans
7 continents
7 vertebrae in the neck
7 layers of skin
7 rolls in an ocean wave
7 colors in a rainbow
7 notes in sound
7 directions to choose
7 candles in the Menorah
7 holes in your head
7 days to create Earth
7 days in a week
7 dimensions
7 parts to the male body

Ya think I'm done? Not yet.

7 deadly sins
7 virtues
7 gifts of the Holy Spirit
7 classical planets
7 numbers in a N.A phone number after the area code
7 hills in Istanbul, Rome and Jerusalem
7 liberal arts
7 wonders of the ancient world
7 games in the playoffs for NHL, MLB and NBA

Can you think of any other sevens that might exist?

I can...
Seven blog posts in a row.


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