Tristan Bull/Next Door Male

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

New Chapter

A new header ^^^^^^

A new profile picture >>>>>>>

A new attitude and direction. 

Had a new date tonight.  A yummy, yummy pilot.  Sexy mother fucker.  Articulate.  Sexy. Funny.  Smart.  Handsome.   And the man can eat a pussy!  I cannot wait to fuck this man.  After the flirting at the bar, the kissing at the bar and the groping at the bar…I could hardly contain myself.  Check please!  But I needed to get going…because I have shit-loads to do tomorrow AND I wanted to make him wait.  I know.  I’m a swinger.  Making them wait doesn’t really matter…but it does.  This guy can dig a seduction. 

We get into the truck and start kissing…one thing leads to another and my pants are down by my ankles and his face is firmly planted in my crotch.  He enjoyed smelling, tasting and feeling my pussy.  I love a man who can enjoy the, true, scent of a woman.  I was totally turned on.  But I had to go and he had been up since 4 a.m., working…it was time to go.  But with the distinct promise to get together again, VERY SOON.  Yum.

AND I have a new date on Saturday night!   Well, I’ve met this couple before and Saturday night is our first intimate date.  Their names are Nancy and Frank.  Nancy and I went shopping last week…and tried on lingerie together. 

I’m really looking forward to our supper and our dessert.  “Yes, I’d like the cute couple with chocolate sauce on the side – for dipping!”

Naturally, there will be details…

[Via http://lifeasasouthernmilf.wordpress.com]

The Main Course

you think i want you for my lover?

that would be nice, don’t get me wrong, that would be… nice.

but really i would only be softening you up
for the main course
i would only be marinating you to be served at God’s table.

you see, i want your freedom
more than anything
more than your hands on my body
more than your breath inside me
more than your warm, deep kisses

you thought you could come to Kali’s house
and play with fire
without getting burned up
on the cremation grounds?

what were you thinking?

the Mother is dancing, naked, laughing,
bathed in ashes, grieving your death
while you are still here breathing.

She is celebrating your death,
while you are still clinging desperately
to all your ideas of who you are.

and you still think I want you for my lover.

Stupid! I want to mesmerize you with bliss
until you drop your guard for just a moment
until you slip for just a moment
into surrender

into surrender
for just a moment

and then I’ll pour what’s left of you
into God’s mouth
like the finest red wine
to wash down the meal

and you and God will be so happy then
like two lovers after hours and hours of love
punctuated by a perfect feast
prepared by the Chefs of Heaven
with warm tummys

resting entwined
engulfed devoured
happily exhausted

breathing together
like the waves
of the ocean

yes, you and God will be so happy then
that it will not matter what I did to get you there
you’ll forgive me,

laughing and crying all at once
for how I tricked you

you’ll forgive me for tricking you
into believing
i was just a woman who wanted you
for my lover

and you’ll know it’s true then–
i could never only want that
i could never only want that

because once you see
once you know
once you feel the bliss of God

you’ll know, that really,
all this human lovemaking is just…
well… it’s just for practice.

–Murshida VA

[Via http://murshidava.wordpress.com]

Look! Lady GaGa's Naked And We STILL Think She's A Man....

The whole Lady Gaga penis/hermaphrodite rumour has been going on since the pop tart popped out of her dress at a festival appearance last month, and whilst she might have hoped her latest music video might have quashed those rumours, she isn’t really so lucky.

At the start of her new nine minute music video with new BFF Beyonce, GaGa hauls herself onto the prison bars with her legs open for everyone to see, before a guard comments “I told you she didn’t have a dick.”

Now to folks watching, that might seem like the end of that debate and a new start for Lady GaGa being classed as an actual Lady; but look again, even though we see GaG’s getting up off the bed onto the bars, the body we see with splayed legs Doesn’t actually have a head… so how do we know it’s GaGa?

Presumably she made this video so that people like me would notice the obvious head omission and give her some more publicity, great – after all, GaGa doesn’t seem to care what people say, providing she get’s some newsprint… so TaDaa.

Now we’re really confused as to what to think, is GaGa trying her best t prove she’s not a man, or is she quite happy to let people make their own assumptions about her? It looks as though the question over whether she’s a Martha or Arthur remains to be answered…

Ruth. xx

[Via http://ruthharrison87.wordpress.com]

Sexually provocative music videos should be banned until after 9pm...

I am not a fan of the politically correct, do-gooder, outcrying, NIMBY type of parents who tend to think the government, telly, schools, big corporations and other institutions should raise their kids for them. However, this is not a post about them. This is a post about the group of parents (Mumsnet) who have appealed for highly sexual materials to be “watershedded”.  This new outcry is not regarding the usual, “in your face” sexual content but the sneakier ones… You know the hip-hop/RnB/pop/girl’s band music videos? More specifically the one where the nearly anorexic size 8 girls are wearing next to nothing? Even when it is not a macho hip hop/RnB music video where the highly muscled gun-totting so-called gangsta is smacking his biatches around, the girls have to have the most sexual, forget suggestive as subtlety has now disappeared, dance routines and outfits. The problem is, these videos are actually on all the time, you don’t even need to have a music channel. All you need to do is switch on to a non-music national freeview channel in the morning and there you have it.

I do not usually agree with parents trying to get the government or the institution of the moment to do their jobs for them, but it must be hard for a mum trying to induce some body confidence and a sense of self-worth into her teenage daughter. It must be even harder nowadays where we (women) are given such a high (unachievable) standard of beauty to measure to. The effects of the over sexualisation of women is pretty obvious: you only need to walk down a shopping centre on a Saturday afternoon and you’ll see what I mean. The girls whose thongs are showing out of their tight jeans, whose padded bright pink bras are visible through their low cut white t-shirt, whose hairs are highlighted blonde, straightened to death… Don’t be fooled, a lot of them are only 12. I am a huge advocate that a woman that has everything on display has a low self-esteem. The fact that you are flaunting everything all at once in one-go would usually betray that you sense you have nothing better to offer or nothing else worth noticing. I am talking about women… What drives a 12 year old to already think like that? If you want respect, start by respecting yourself: put some clothes on.

Click here to read the original article.

Click here to see a video of Justine Roberts, founder of Mumsnet.

Direct link to the Mumsnet campaign.

[Via http://aspiringrolemodel.wordpress.com]

Oh, Cosmo.

When grocery shopping it is inevitable to find yourself at the checkout line — unless you’re a thief that gets in and out with the quickness. At said checkout line, you are bombarded with magazines: tabloids, health, cooking and other. I group magazines like People and Disney Adventures in “other” because they don’t interest me. But every once in awhile, there is that one magazine that glows like a beacon, willing you to stare at it and take in its utter stupidity.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you:

"How to Touch a Naked Man": Step 1: Get man naked. Step 2: Touch his penis. Step 3: THE END.

Cosmopolitan is adult version of Tiger Beat, if Tiger Beat focused on brow-beating women into having even lower self-esteem. From their airbrushed cover models (nothing new in the biz, as I just coined the magazine business) to the fluffy articles on makeup, interpersonal relationships and MEN!, Cosmo is the Carlos Mencia of pandering interchangeable creaky stereotypes to make you likable — damn that whole having a unique personality thing.

Anywho, the cover above makes me laugh for the same reasons that people somehow enjoy Jay Leno’s vacant brand of comedy. If you need a vapid magazine to teach you how to touch a naked man — and speaking for myself, I’m pretty easy — that you have somehow found yourself in his presence (I won’t ask on the account of any pending lawsuits you might have), perhaps you can find other resources to stare blankly at: books, friends, the internet, the local meter maid.

I don’t know who else could be buying these every month, but maybe they can give me 50 reasons why they want to have THE MOST MIND-BLOWING ORGASMS – IN BED!

[Via http://genialblackman.wordpress.com]

MOO-MOO Buck-a-Roo

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

The Way They Were: Egon and Wally

Yesterday I was reminded that I had a bunch of these “Way They Were” entries planned and had only followed through on one (Jayne and Mickey). That’s cowardly. I’m going to try to motor through more in the coming months.

“Sitzende Frau mit hochgezogenem Knie”/”Seated woman with bent knee”, 1917.

Although artist Egon Schiele had been separated from Valerie “Wally” Neuzil and married to Edith Harms for two years by the date of this painting, most everyone agrees this is from an earlier study of Wally. It looks too much like her not to be, and he uses the colors that are associated with the Wally work. It’s my favorite work by him. It was on the cover of the Schiele book that my husband, who is a painter, had at our house in Portland, and was the entire reason I found myself opening and reading the book one day. I was interested in Schiele’s work, which is provocative and weird and has many shockingly modern features, all things I like, but, because his life was tragically cut short by disease, his career arc is brief. Coming away from the slim book about his life and art, I felt that his work was dominated by the chief feature of his life, which is to say in a nutshell his time with the real love of his life, which he royally fucked up, and it was the story of that, of Egon’s eventually jacked-beyond-repair relationship with Wally Neuzil that really sucked me in.

“Das Modell Wally Neuzil”/”The model Wally Neuzil.” 1912.

Artist Egon Schiele and his model, Valerie “Wally” Neuzil, were together from 1911 to 1915. He met her in Vienna when she was seventeen and he was twenty-one. Supposedly they were introduced by Gustav Klimt. Supposedly she had been Klimt’s mistress before she got together with Schiele. These things are all conjecture because everyone involved is dead, and they happened before the Great War, which so influenced the German-speaking art world in the years just following it that anything which contributed to or influenced an artist’s work before the War kind of fell by the wayside until later generations resumed their scholarship of turn of the century artists. That’s fair. Such radical changes happened during and after the War that I imagine it seemed crazy, outdated, and irrelevant to really consider too deeply the little emotional outbursts and criminal trials that came before the dramatic political events of the 1910’s and 20’s that literally reshaped the landscape.

“Rothaarige hockende Frau mit grünen Strümpfen (Valerie Neuzil)”/”Crouching figure with green stockings” (Valerie Neuzil).” 1913.

Egon and Wally left Vienna because they considered it too oppressive. They sought an inspirational, romantic, and bucolic lifestyle of freedom in the countryside, moving to Krumia — which also had the more practical benefit of much cheaper rent than Vienna — where, though Schiele’s mother was born there, they were summarily run out of town not too long after for being a little too inspirational, romantic, and bucolic: they’d been using the town’s teenagers as “models”. There’s a Schiele museum there now, so I guess that, like cream cheese, their hearts eventually softened to a spreadable cracker topping. That analogy got out of control in a hurry. It’s almost time for me to grab lunch, sorry.

“Wally in roter Blouse mit erhobenen Knien”/”Wally in red blouse with raised knees.” 1913.

Essentially fleeing the angry mob in Krumia, Egon and Wally moved again, this time north to Nuelengbach, where it was apparently same shit, different day, as they were not there even six months and Schiele was arrested for seducing a minor. Once in custody, they dropped that charge (apparently the young lady changed her tune when the absinthe wore off?) and an abduction charge the parents had insisted be levied originally, and instead tried and found him guilty of displaying inappropriate art in a place where minors could see it. He was released from prison after serving twenty-four days in April 1912 — are you getting the idea of what an awesome prince he was? such the lucky girl, that Wally — and they moved back to the Vienna area.

“Auf einem blauen Polster Liegende mit goldblondem Haar (Wally Neuzil)”/”Reclining female figure with gold blonde hair on a blue pillow (Wally Neuzil).” 1913.

Settled with Wally in Heitzing, a Viennese suburb, Schiele wrote to a friend in early 1915 that he was going to marry one of the Harms sisters, two locksmith’s daughters named Edith and Adele who lived across the street from his studio, for money. I guess running around for three years painting erotic pictures and pissing people off while sleeping with teenagers and doing jail time had not turned out to be the lucrative life of luxury he’d anticipated; the cash flow was getting low, and, despite that he considered Wally his partner and soulmate, marrying for money was Schiele’s timeless solution to their financial woes. He followed through on this, marrying the older of the daughters, Edith, on June 17, 1915, exactly 91 years before my own wedding day.

“Frau in Unterwäsche und Strümpfen (Valerie Neuzil)”/”Woman in underwear and stockings (Valerie Neuzil).” 1913.

A few days after his wedding, Schiele was called to the war, but managed to always serve in Austria, so he was able to continue with his art and stay close to his ties in Vienna. Wally had broken up with him when he told her he was getting married. Schiele wrote to friends expressing shock and grief: he’d actually expected her to understand and stay with him. He wrote a letter to Wally asking her to meet him at a billiards parlor that he liked to go to. There he gave her another letter, proposing that every year they go on an extended holiday, without his wife. She did not write back or respond positively to this. Instead, she left him and never saw him again.

“Frau mit schwarzen Strümpfen – Valerie Neuzil”/”Woman with black stockings – Valerie Neuzel.” 1913.

I was furious when I read this. I still remember sitting in my little house in Portland and my jaw dropping, and my blood boiling, all this anger and resentment simmering in me, directed at people I never met who’d been dead nearly a century, but I couldn’t help it. I hate him for marrying someone else, I hate him and I hate the story of how they were because it reveals that through all that time they spent together, Schiele must have considered Wally lower than him, and though she stood by him , asshole though he could be, he thought her to be the unimportant one, expendable and suppressable, and he literally threw her away like garbage even though she was the best thing that had happened to him; his drawings of her are the best things he did. But that is how some stories are, and I deserve to feel angry because I need to accept that, I have to work through my sadness about the fact that nothing and no one has ever been perfect not even for a day or an hour or a moment, every joyful thing is secretly riddled through with the knowledge that this is so good now because there will be pain later and every lucky penny has a tail side of the coin, and if I have to search my soul and see if there is any gold in the dross of this love story that I in my infantile understanding of human nature found so devastating than I guess I must say that I do love that Schiele really loved Wally in an incredibly broken way, and had that time with her in which there must surely have been good moments.

Photograph of Wally and Egon from the Schiele Museum online.

Schiele died only three years after his breakup with Wally, on Halloween 1918, in an influenza epidemic which had several days earlier killed Edith and their unborn child. He passed away completely unaware that Wally Neuzil had herself succumbed to death from disease around Christmas of the previous year. She’d become a nurse for the Red Cross and, stationed at Split in Dalmatia, she caught scarlet fever from one of her patients and died in the same hospital at which she’d been working for over a year.

[Via http://thethoughtexperiment.wordpress.com]