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)
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Is Sexual Fulfilment Through Turkey and Serotonin... A Real Possibility... 😎❗
Posted:Oct 7, 2020 10:55 am
Last Updated:Nov 20, 2020 10:24 am
On the edge of a thick and hazy summer day, dusk had begun to cloak the auburn sky. I headed south on that six-lane boulevard and braked for the light. Déjà vu brushed a nerve or two as I reached the intersection and rolled to a stop.

I couldn't help but notice, for an ordinarily busy street, it was uncommonly vacant. As I waited (out of nowhere), she pulled up beside me in her 'Town and Country' station wagon, signalled left and gently cut me off. I was relieved as she barely missed my car.

I was also intrigued to find anyone still driving a vehicle with faux wood glued to its sides. I cringed as the pretty woman with the big blond hair stubbornly persisted, inching nearer and nearer to my front bumper. I decided it was best if I got out and helped direct her. As I reached for my door handle, events unfolded in an even more peculiar manner.

My car died, and I couldn't restart it. Abandoning my ride, I stepped out and trudged over to her open window. On cue, the electricity suddenly shuddered to complete 'black'; a total planetary power failure? The blond-haired lady and I had become solitary shadow figures, framed in the faint glow of a cloudy moonlit eve. She looked at me and threw her arms up in confusion as if to say,

"What's going on here?"

I didn't have the time to reply. Brilliant coloured lights blazed in towards us - at streetlight height - then stopped and circled. Those pastel rainbow shades soothingly blinked and pulsed (just in front of us), right above that red stoplight, which had inexplicably lit up again. The blond-haired lady had already hopped out of her car.

Nuzzling her trembling body close to mine, she buried her head against my chest and stared at the dazzling lights. I put my arms under her silk hair, around her shoulders and tightly hugged her supple waist. We watched as those bright beams silently throbbed... and quivered. Our lips unwittingly touched as we both turned to each other to speak. I got the first words in.

"Damn, not this fucking alien stop light again?"

And the dream ends. I know, right? I get pissed off every time as well.

I'd love to be a part of the 'alternate ending'. There has to be a way to pump up one's serotonin levels and orchestrate your unconscious nightlife into some sort of polished symphony. Isn't there?

Some First Impressions... Can Scar You For Life😮❗
Posted:Sep 28, 2020 9:58 am
Last Updated:Nov 21, 2020 6:17 am
My very first impression of the creature was woven into a sturdy memory, when I was a tiny tyke of 5. Young enough to learn a lesson and old enough to never forget.

The cute furry thing nestled up to me clambered into my lap and began to purr. I petted that black ball of hair, and it purred even louder. I did what I thought was best and stroked harder; it hissed. I decided to lean into those long white whiskers and assure it that I was a friend. And BAM- therein bloomed that first indelible memory.

It was surgically etched into my cheek, narrowly missing my eye.

I barely recall the burning pain or my mother screaming as I walked into the kitchen. But I clearly remember all the blood. Damn, there was a lot of it dripping everywhere.

By the time my age and wisdom had doubled, I'd overcome my angst and had grown a thicker skin. Most importantly, I had acquired the technique on how to hold those felines - under their front shoulders - without fear of those nasty razors they brandished. Or so I thought.

On the day that shaggy stray tiptoed into my backyard, I hoped it might be friendly. It was, for a while. Arching its back while brushing against my legs, it gave me all the signs that it liked me - until it didn't and derisively spit. I determined (along with my buddies) that the best place for that critter - was in my neighbour's swimming pool.

"Do they swim?" was the question we posed.

Off we trudged across the street to that blue expanse of chlorinated water. As I dangled that placid furball over the deep end, that beast suddenly realized the predicament it was in. It's hind legs violently slashed, and in a flash, the veins in my arms poured out deep red blood.

Oh, and they DO swim.

Fast-forward to my teens and a New Year's Eve party at a friend's home. I never knew he harboured one. It was a surprise to me that if you have a severe allergy, a near-death asthma attack is the most convincing proof. It was the worst New Year I'd ever spend. You think these encounters were over? Not yet.

Years later, I met a woman who became my fiancee and my wife. You guessed it - she owned one. I was in love and thought I'd learn to adapt and compromise. Instead, I endured years of sneezing grief, and hairball hell.

Cats and I have braved a long savage history, lavishly illustrated with gushing plasma! These days I ignore them. Yet, I find it ironic that a frequent foe shares its name with that warm, wet and exciting variety I invariably seek.

That species - if you get close enough - is always friendly and playful. And I've never met a pussy that's ever scratched me.

Have you?

Can The Food You Eat... Ruin a Hot Date? 🤔 🔥
Posted:Sep 22, 2020 9:46 am
Last Updated:Apr 20, 2021 9:16 pm
She wore a long flowing emerald dress and sat on a black leather couch. The apartment was broadly spaced and sparsely furnished. Glass windows were framed with sheer drapes, which barely hid shimmering towers as they loomed in. Slowly she slipped on her high-heeled shoes, rose from her seat and strode into the delicately glowing bedroom.

That's where he was.

Without a word, she lay down. He was kneeling on the floor - his dress pants impatiently creased - while he'd waited at the foot of the bed. Gently he removed her shoes as her head nestled into the silk pillowcase. Her eyes shut and she sighed as he caressed and massaged her feet.

Lovingly he deliberately kissed every one of her toes. He wrapped his mouth around them suckling each one individually. She smiled blissfully as she felt his warm wet lips glide onto her tiny digits.

The feeling - albeit a simple one - was indescribable. Have you ever revelled in it? There's a shudder created when performed to perfection.

She gasped as her own tongue flicked to dampen her trembling lips. A shiver greeted her as his hands soothed her ankles then ran up along her calves. Softly he barely brushed her thighs and continued upwards, tracing the outline of her leg. Her skin was electrified as ecstasy had quickly become a welcome companion.

She drew her arms to her sides to meet his fingers as they followed the curves she'd provided. Instinctively she spread her legs and raised her hips. She wasn't wearing any panties and he knew that.

The doorbell rang...

"Oh, NOT the fucking doorman," she hissed. She'd asked him to hold the delivery for them. The doorbell impatiently rang again.

"Sorry darling, I ordered sushi," she apologized.

"Really? I thought we'd agreed on ribs?" came his disappointed reply as he dislodged his mouth from her big toe and raised his head.

What Price Would You Pay... For Love... ❤️❗
Posted:Sep 15, 2020 8:54 am
Last Updated:Oct 10, 2020 5:41 am
Love exalts us into God's arms. It assuredly captures and captivates strangers' eyes. He felt all of them peering in, as she leaned forward, grasped the nape of his neck and kissed him.

After the party when they were safely back at his apartment, he brazenly took her. His fingers dug into her ass as he pulled her close. His tongue plunged into her throat as his other hand slipped up her skirt and brushed her moist spot. She moaned and returned his passion. With both hands, she unbuckled his pants and thrust her slender fingers around the rigid, smouldering heat between his legs.

Imagine how lust's hunger had been fed, for an hour or more. Imagine how each, had commanded the other. It's effortless, isn't it? Later, when she stood at his door he closed his eyes and kissed her slowly, adoringly. There were no passengers to witness his ardour this time.

She smiled and with a gentle twirl of her hair, left. A second later she knocked.

"I forgot my cell on your table."

He walked back into the room then returned with it and kissed her again.

As she sunk into the deep leather seats of the cab, her phone rang. It was him. She answered.

"I told you NEVER to call this number. Did you not understand? If you ever call me at this number again, it will be the last fucking time you ever see me. Understood?"

Then with a growl still painted on her lips, she hung up the phone.

Love does exalt us to God. But there's always a price to pay, for the counterfeit variety.

An Intimate Companion... He Wished He.d Never Met... 😮❗🔥
Posted:Sep 10, 2020 9:54 am
Last Updated:Sep 16, 2020 7:40 pm
In a time long ago, on a land far away, she touched him.

Twas a slight brush of her shawl - a glancing caresses as she passed. His body shivered and trembled. He shuddered, wondering if she'd ever return. When he was much older, she did.

He lost his balance the day she appeared. Work on the farm was impossible - it was a feat just to walk or sit. He persevered with the resolve he had. He gritted his teeth with the determination he hoped would satisfy her. She persisted.

When she'd press herself up against him, he felt an ache. It was a punishing, throbbing misery - paralyzing every fibre of his soul. To confirm her control, she besieged him relentlessly. With a sharp squeeze of her fingers, he'd suddenly see vivid stars and shut his eyes. She wasn't done.

He sought everything, anything, anyone... in an effort to elude her. There was nowhere to hide. There was no sleep... imagine if you can. There were no moments in the day or night when he didn't feel her nestled up beside him. She was always with him, clinging and draining hope from his heart.

Her cruelty bore no boundaries as he prayed for relief. She'd mock him with a fire so hot, he wanted to rip the melting skin off his body - just for a moment or a few seconds reprieve. Exhausted, he finally begged and bargained for clemency.

She laughed derisively as tears streamed down from his bleeding eyes. Wielding more of her sharp thorns, she thrashed him until finally... he surrendered, sobbing.

He was ready. If God had touched his hand, he would have eagerly grasped it and followed.

And then... she was gone.

He blinked. He could barely believe it. He hardly understood his good fortune, nor could he explain it.

"Truly beholding and blessed am I. Words, cannot describe how I feel now," he whispered breathlessly to a dark and empty room.

That merciless companion he'd known intimately, for far too long had left him and moved on.

She's not shy. That sorceress proudly keeps the same name, right up to this very day. Some of us might have met her. None of us, want to know her.

How Long Does It Take… For a Maid To Bring Fresh Towels …❗🤔
Posted:Sep 1, 2020 12:01 pm
Last Updated:Sep 12, 2020 12:53 pm
She slid the hotel key card in the slot, pulled the polished brass handle up and stepped into the darkened room. She paused - adjusting to the gloom - then spotted the shadow sitting in a chair. She strutted across the capacious space and spoke.

“I want to see the view. Where’s the remote?”

The man in the chair nodded toward the coffee table. Motors soon hummed as a half dozen burgundy curtains parted to reveal broad lengths of floor to ceiling glass. They were perched high above the city, facing a steel and mirrored monolith nearby. Brilliant sunlight instantly beamed in and bounced off ivory walls and black marble floors. She turned to him and met his ravenous eyes.

He was naked - his hands and feet handcuffed to the high-back wooden chair. Her heels clicked a hypnotic rhythm as she circled him. She leaned forward and let him inhale her scent. Her crimson lips held back just far enough to let him feel their heat. She watched and smiled as his cock twitched. Then she stood aside.

She took off her short dress and flung it on a nearby couch. His pupils grew wide as he watched her unclasp her lace bra and slip out of her white panties. She approached him again.

With the softest of touches, she traced a path with her nails from his chest, down his stomach, along his thighs and to that spot he wanted her to touch. It twitched again as her warm fingers clasped his throbbing appendage. It hadn’t been 5 minutes and he was already wet with desire. She smirked when she whispered in his ear.

“Do you think you can last ten minutes? I’ll make sure you’ll be begging me, an hour from now.”

He accepted that he was hers to command. The deep ache he felt worsened as she straddled him, grabbed his cock and stroked it. His head flung backward in the chair as he moaned. And as he did, she released her digits and laughed again. This would be the persecution he could expect from her. She’d bring him closer and closer, encouraging his desperate, acquiescent whimpers before she’d let him cum. His legs were already trembling and he’d begun to pant.

Sometime later, she finally released him from his inflamed sensual agony. He groaned and moaned loudly in grateful spasms. And eventually, he sat spent… breathing as if he’d just run a sprint.

She walked to the couch, slipped on her clothes and turned to him.

“Don’t get up,” she spoke facetiously while giggling; “I noticed that you left it in the black leather billfold on the table by the door.”

Wait. Hold on a second. The keys to the handcuffs are in the kitchen,” he called to her.

“Oh, I’ll let room service know that you need fresh towels. She’ll find those keys for you. Can you wait that long?”

Without another word she walked toward the table at the door, picked up the billfold and left. The only sounds were of his breathing as it grew louder and quicker. A thought formed in his head as he squirmed impatiently in his seat, “How long does it take for a maid to bring fresh towels?”

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Are you patient and think it’s an asset or do you think having patience is over-rated?
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Me and My Big Mouth… and A Solid Offer…😮❗
Posted:Aug 27, 2020 11:12 am
Last Updated:Sep 25, 2020 9:00 pm
You know me, right? I opened my big mouth and before I knew it, I’d stepped into something that I hadn't expected.

It all began simply enough, yesterday afternoon. I’d stopped in a tranquil park and walked out of my car to breathe in the fresh, pine forest air. Phone in hand, I took a random picture and was putting my camera away when I heard a voice.

"Is your car for sale?"

The question came from a young man who was sitting in a nearby black sedan. I hadn't even remotely considered selling my vehicle. I'd just changed the rear disc brakes, put in a new front suspension and replaced the tie rods and ball joints. The car handled like a precision-tuned appendage to my body. But, I answered with the first stupid thing that flew into my brain.

"Sure, if the price was right," and I waited for the young man's reply.

"What number did you have in mind?" was his response.

"Throw one at me," was my retort.

He flung a - ‘I’m not fucking around’ - dollar figure at me. My jaw would have dropped, but I'm a trained salesman and never flinched. As I began to describe my 'ride' and all its particular quirks and features, that young man stepped out of his car and strode towards mine - with keen interest.

For shits and giggles, I suggested a test drive and in a flash, we were zipping along a winding country road. That put my car through some strenuous paces. Wide gummy tires gripped tight curves and bends and flew up hills, and sprinted long stretches of the flat open road. The tachometer easily kissed 7,000 rpm a few times, as the engine roared in approval. That young man was smiling from ear to ear.

When we got back to our original spot - and after examining the guts under the hood and up, and around my four-wheel consort - we exchanged contact information and parted ways. I thought nothing more was to come. An hour later I was proved wrong.

I was sitting in my living room when I received his text. It was a better than fair offer to purchase my car. He added one request; the deal had to be finalized by today. NOW, my jaw had dropped.

I stopped what I was doing and quickly drove to my 'car guy', to see what he had in stock. I was actually relieved when he announced his verdict, "I don't have anything good at the number you're looking for Paul."

After all the repairs and the money I'd just put into my car, the offer I had was great - just not GREAT enough to put me into a comparable car.

I texted back the disappointing news to the man with the offer and thought for a second, “I think I should keep my mouth shut next time.” Then I thought again, “What if, he’d offered me a couple of thousand dollars more?”

Do you have anything that you WOULDN’T sell - REGARDLESS of the price?
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7 Signs You’ve Been On A Sex Site For Too Long 😮❗❤️
Posted:Aug 18, 2020 8:50 am
Last Updated:Aug 23, 2020 1:26 pm
I thought I’d mix things up and go with the number 7 again. Whadja think?

Introspection, self-reflection and insight - they’re all words that I found on the ‘Google’. And they’re all practical tools for understanding yourself, processing what you learn and coming up with some answers to questions. What question did I ask myself?

How can you tell if you’ve stayed too long on a sex site?

I had some thoughts about this website and the signs that I might be on it past my expiration date. Much like that banana on the kitchen table - everything has a lifespan. Who likes those brown soft, mushy ones, right? Surprisingly the Mayo Clinic knows about this affliction. With their help, I’ve compiled the - 7 signs that you might have stayed on a sex site (like this one)… for a touch too long.

1. Unexplained weight loss
This might be a dream come true for some of us, but in reality, it can signal more serious issues. Are you depressed that you haven’t found a partner here yet? Unless you’re exercising like a nut - weight loss can be a sign this site is getting to you.

2. Persistent or high fever
Yes, we have that ‘virus’ thingy, but I’m not talking about THAT. Excessive, persistent and unfulfilled horniness can lead to temperature spikes. If you’re not getting relief here, maybe it’s time to take a step away.

3. Shortness of breath
Very strenuous masturbation, high altitude, extreme temperatures and… sex sites - can cause this breathlessness. Do you experience panic attacks when you look at the number of years you’ve been here without meeting up with anyone? It might be time to look elsewhere.

4. Unexplained changes in bowel habits
What’s normal varies widely but frustration with sex sites may cause;
- Bloody, black or tarry-coloured stools
- Persistent diarrhea or constipation
- Unexplained urges to take a shit or to throw some shit around.

5. Confusion or personality changes
Sex sites and the frustration associated with them can cause;
- Poor thinking and decision-making skills
- Behaviour changes
- Anger, nastiness and rude remarks on blog posts.

6. Feeling full after eating very little
If you consistently feel full sooner than normal or after eating less than usual, you’re probably drinking more than average. And it’s probably due to that stupid sex site you’re on and the idiots you see.

7. Flashes of light
Although marijuana is legal in many parts of the world, bright spots or flashes of light shouldn’t be something you’d expect to see. More likely, that sex site you’re on is causing a mild retinal detachment. Are you staring at a tiny computer screen hour after hour, trying to read mindless profiles while responding to pointless emails and rude instant messages?

Now, all or none of the symptoms I’ve just listed, may or may not have anything to do with the sex site you’re a member of. But be mindful and self-aware, if you experience any of these signs while you’re on a sex site. That brown mushy banana on that kitchen table I mentioned earlier? No one wants to be one of those. It might be time to cut your losses and step away.

Hey… I might have missed a few other symptoms so feel free to throw your two cents in. We all might learn something here.

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4 Things You Can Do To Guarantee… You Will Taste Better… 😊❤️
Posted:Aug 13, 2020 9:42 am
Last Updated:Aug 27, 2020 11:08 am
Yes… as some of you may have noticed, I’m learning how to count backward from 7.

Men, have you ever thought of what you can do, to make yourselves taste better to her or him… or to your dog? Since I have no life, I’ve given it some significant thought, researched the ‘Google’, and come up with - 4 things you can do to improve how you taste. Ladies… share this information with your partner.

As you probably knew, semen is only one percent sperm. The rest is made up of vitamins, minerals, chlorine, calcium, fructose, citric acid, nitrogen, potassium, phosphorus, zinc, sodium, and over 200 separate proteins.

What it tastes like depends on what you put into your body.

Here are 8 ways to make your cum taste bad.

1. Smoking: makes your semen taste like a stale cigarette.

2. Dairy: while good for your gut, makes your semen taste terrible.

3. Drugs + Alcohol: it's a given.

4. Meat: makes your semen extra salty.

5. High-Sulfur Foods: intensifies the taste in a bad way (e.g. broccoli, cabbage, cauliflower).

6. Caffeine: some is alright, but too much will result in a bitter taste.

7. Asparagus: look at how it affects your pee; now translate that to your semen.

8. Fast Food: includes chemicals that make your semen bitter.

How do you improve the taste of semen? Try these simple 4 steps.

1. Sweeten It Up: wheatgrass, cinnamon, lemon, peppermint, and parsley all sweeten the taste of your semen. Naturally sugary fruits like pineapple, kiwi fruits, blueberries and plumbs also improve your taste.

2. Celery: it's high in Vitamin C which will help flush out the salty flavour.

3. Cranberries: they actually help balance the pH levels in your semen, making for a better taste.

4. Water: remembering your semen is made up of mostly water, so if you aren't having enough of it (8-10 glasses daily) your semen will not taste good.

There’s a popular myth that pineapple is the miracle food that will transform your semen into some sort of magical elixir. And this is partially true. Because pineapple is pretty acidic, eating a lot of it or drinking a lot of pineapple juice can help cut down on the bitter taste of semen. I always knew that my vodka pineapple slushies helped with something other than with the buzz. My grocer has the no-name brand on special - 3 cans for $6, so I’m set till winter 2021.

And that’s it... a blog post that’s short, sweet, and to the point - and tasty, if you follow these tips.
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Now I ask the questions, right? But what will those be?

Have you tasted yourself and what do you think?

Women - do you always swallow and have you ever suggested your partner drink more pineapple juice?

Or I might (for those of you who are shy) simply ask:
How was your day?

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5 Ways to Deal With Insults and Put-Downs… on Dating Sites... 😊❗❤️
Posted:Aug 10, 2020 11:52 am
Last Updated:May 26, 2021 8:27 am
Recently, a lady friend of mine asked me for some advice. She's a member of another dating site and had been experiencing a spate of insults and put-downs while 'chatting'. I thought of how I might support her. With the benefit of a 2020 article in 'Psychology Today', I came up with a plan that might also help you.

Harmful Words...
Insults and put-downs can affect your happiness, confidence, and self-esteem, as well as your sex life. Over time, they can lead to lead to feelings of isolation, alienation, anger, anxiety, and depression.

That's what my lady friend was feeling. Evidently, a trio of peeps in her chat room found her use of acronyms and emojis worthy of attack. They questioned her integrity and humility and went as far as calling her an asshole, a narcissist, and a ‘crack-head’. Can you believe it? Neither could I.

What do you do when painful words are flung your way? Let's look at your possible choices.

1. Anger
Anger is your worst choice. It shows that you take the insult seriously, there might be truth in the words, and it upsets you.

2. Return the Insult
Are you clever and quick? The issue with the put-down - however brilliant it may be - is that it equalizes us with our insulters. It brings them up to our level and us down to theirs. This gives them, their words and behavior, far too much legitimacy. Returning the insult also risks injuring the insulter (who is probably very fragile) and invites further attacks.

3. Humor
Humor, if successful, can be an especially effective response, for three main reasons:
- It undercuts the insulter and his or her insult.
- It brings any third parties on side.
- It diffuses the tension of the situation.

A similar strategy is to go with the insult and even add to it, for example: "Ah, if you knew me better, you would find greater fault still!" This makes a mockery of the insult and, by extension, of the insulter.

4. Rebuking the Insulter
Ignoring the insult works with strangers but it’s not a sensible strategy when it comes to people with whom we have an ongoing personal or professional relationship. In such cases, have a quiet word, and reassert your boundaries.

5. Ignore the Remarks - the way you would a yapping puppy.
THIS is your strongest response. If you don't know or respect the people flinging the words at you, their venom should be taken with the same reaction you'd have - to a barking or a naughty . Just ignore it. It implies - “You’re so insignificant to me that I don’t even care to register your insult."

We never have to take offense at an insult. Offense exists NOT in the insult but in our REACTION to it. Our attitude is completely within our control. It’s unreasonable to expect a boor to be anything but a boor; if we take offense at his or her bad behavior - we have only ourselves to blame.

How do you deal with insults and put-downs here and in the ‘real world’?
6 Tips On How to Successfully Blog... While Drinking... 🍷🍷😎❗
Posted:Aug 4, 2020 9:05 am
Last Updated:Sep 2, 2020 10:00 pm
Drinking, while doing anything - except partying - doesn't work. And even then, it should be done in moderation. You say you want to drink and write? Well THAT'S, a recipe for failure. But what if , someone challenged you to a game. Let's assume the question was - 'Can you successfully blog while drinking?' Here are six tips to help you win that bet.

1. Choose a Title or Theme, Ahead Of Time:
Don't count on thinking with impartial clarity while that bottle is open. Develop a theme, outline, and title - before that cork comes off. A 'good idea' - while your brain is fuzzy - is often, not as good as you think it is.

2. Eat Beforehand:
Never drink on an empty stomach. A tasty balance of starches and carbs provides your gut with a satisfying surge of energy. More importantly, it will coat your stomach with a protective layer of nutrients to prevent those alcohol molecules from overpowering your brain too quickly.

3. Don't Mix Drinks :
Choose your favorite beverage and stick with it. Don't mix red with white or beer with hard stuff. What would you lean towards?

4. Choose a Good Word Editor:
Nothing worse than a poorly crafted sentence or one with tons of mistakes in it. I use 'Word' to manage my prose and eliminate typos and grammar errors. 'Grammarly' is a good choice as well. Copy and paste your final version into your target document.

5. Edit, Edit... Then Edit Some More:
Don't get carried away. Just because you have 2 thousand words swimming in your head, doesn't mean you're obliged to put them all down. Less is more. If you can take a paragraph and put it into a sentence, then chop that sentence and find one word that fits - do it. A thesaurus is a great tool, especially for the tipsy mind.

6. Be Safe Before You're Sorry:
Before you finally press 'enter' and send your thoughts out into the web, triple and quadruple check what you've scribbled. You don't want to offend or piss anyone off - unless THAT'S your goal. Remember, once out there your words can't be taken back!

And there you have it. A guide and 6 tips to successfully combining the bottle with the blog - or any written words, for that matter.

Personally, I never drink while typing a written piece of anything. Those vodka pineapple slushies - I'm fond of - are for weekends by the lake. Now, mind you, if it's a letter to my bank or a comment to a person who's brushed a nerve - my inner monologue disappears and I might let some un-sanded words fly.

Can you think of anything I've missed? How do you edit your words and thoughts before pressing 'enter' and letting them flutter?

7 Ways To Build A Successful Sex Boutique... In The South Pacific.... ❗❗❗
Posted:Jul 30, 2020 10:57 am
Last Updated:Aug 19, 2020 6:45 am
Did I ever tell you about my visit last summer, to a bizarre island in the South Pacific? It had no name. It didn't appear on any map and it was populated by strange men and women all searching for one thing... a partner in sex.

Upon my arrival, I immediately noticed that the majority of tenants were women - 80% at least. Women of all shapes, colors, and sizes. Yet, they all had one thing in common; they were all desperate to find a man. And strangely enough, the men controlled everything .

Those men held their erotic carrots (and the promise of sex), just far enough - from the reach of those women - to keep them all intrigued.

The principal commerce on that plot of sand was the boutique business . In the main market square was a huge billboard listing all the top boutiques to visit. And let me tell you; competition to be the 'Top Boutique' was stiff. Dozens and dozens of men and women would try all sorts of tricks to attract that honor.

Each boutique was unique. Some told stories, others shared jokes or recipes, and even cute anecdotes of the owner's life. But the most popular ones (managed by the males), invited their guests to look at postcards of naked men. Can you imagine?

The way the system worked was simple. The more visitors and signatures in your Guest Book - the more popular you'd be and the higher you'd rise on that all-important billboard.

I was curious about how those boutique owners had become so famous . I mean, postcards ... of naked men? No one had internet access on the island, so perhaps it made sense. What trick did they use? You'll never guess.

They gave away free televisions. Can you believe it? Most of the female island residents couldn't afford one.

That top boutique owner - a stout grumpy man in his mid-forties - proudly displayed banal postcards (pictures borrowed from the TV) that otherwise would be ignored. Yet once a month, he'd give away a television. Thousands of women (and other men), would flock to his cramped, stuffy little boutique to glance at those fuzzy postcards and nod (hypnotically) in approval. More importantly, they'd all put their names in the hat for that grand prize draw - a television. What a great idea, right?

Now that grumpy boutique owner never took too kindly to any competition. Nor did he suffer poorly written signatures in his guest book. He'd complain and grumble and even call the island police to report perpetrators of his list of fictional infractions.

If you went to another boutique - without his permission - you'd be banned from his boutique. If you said anything bad about him - whether true or not - he'd ban you from his boutique. He'd even invent stories about other boutique owners, just to create havoc and make sure his name remained on that board - as a Top Boutique Owner .

Was he a self-absorbed nihilistic, pompous, delusional, ignorant dick?

No, not really. All the top boutique owners had basic human flaws; he just owned a majority of the negative ones.

Just before I was about to leave the island - my visa was expiring - I heard a rumor. The island curators were going to ban the free television giveaways. I heard his screams of anguish echo through the palm trees, as I boarded my boat.

How did things turn out on that island enclave? Hmmm... good question. Perhaps after this virus thing resolves itself, I'll visit again. The food was great and the waters were an inviting , crystal clear turquoise.

We Have Lost Forty Million Good Men… WTF?😮
Posted:Jun 15, 2020 10:03 am
Last Updated:Jul 26, 2020 7:51 pm
I occasionally go for the ‘Gold’ on this site. I perv about with liberty and impunity and then, get bored and …let things lapse. I don’t bother renewing. Shortly after my latest negligence, I received a shocking email from the team up at A F F HQ.

At first glance, it was a pleasant surprise to see that they’d offered me; ‘fifty percent off’ the regular membership - to continue to  prance around with the crown. I mean who can resist fifty percent off ANYTHNG? Then I noticed this line of enticement they included;

“As a Gold member, you can contact any of our more than 40 million members…”

Wait a minute… wait a MINUTE! I’d read where A F F had - seventy eight million members. What happened to forty million men? (I say men, because lets face it, 99.9% probably are.) My gosh… I knew things were going in the toilet but to lose THAT many members is… well… it’s shocking. It’s like losing Canada or Poland or wiping Australia and Taiwan off the map. There was another alternative and that is; A F F never had seventy eight million members and it was all an exaggeration and a lie! Hmmm…

I know, perhaps I should be doing MY part to be - a more responsible contributor here. Posting a blog ten times a day might help. More memes and pics of naked people might attract new members; god knows this site doesn’t have enough of THOSE. Or is the extinction and eventual disappearance of this site inevitable; like the demise of the dinosaur.

I got an email from my church group the other day. They’re looking for a new President to help coordinate plans for picnics and outings and things like that. There’s no salary (of course) but there is the esteem of smacking that varnished maple gavel at the weekly, distanced, face to face meetings. Hmmm… I’m thinking about it.

In the meantime; what are you doing to contribute to the overall quality of life on this island named A F F? Or are you just waiting till you try and log in one day… and find the doors closed?


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