Peep This: My Inner Freak

Dear Abby 2

2006-09-16T20:52:00.000-07:00

DEAR ABBY: One of my closest friends, "Louise," has informed me that her husband just moved out and is requesting a divorce. She is hoping to repair the marriage. She has not given me a reason why, nor have I asked. I am trying to be a good friend and be supportive.
My problem is, on a recent trip to visit my grandmother in a nearby city, I saw Louise's husband being very cozy and affectionate with a very pregnant woman. Louise was never able to have children, so this will come as a big blow to her. She has also started drinking a great deal, and is having all sorts of people at home for parties. This is not typical behavior for her, but I understand why she's doing it.
Louise lives a financially secure life because of her husband's income. He is already asking about how to liquefy the assets, and she is in denial. I don't know if I should tell her about the pregnant woman or express my concerns about her drinking. I feel she needs to wake up and smell the coffee and start securing her assets. What should I do?

Abby's Answer: Your friend may already know about the woman and the baby, but on the chance that she doesn't, she should be told what you saw. And because you are concerned about her drinking, you should express that, too.
There are difficult times ahead for your friend. She's going to need her wits about her -- not be addled or living in a fantasy world. She's going to need legal advice and, of course, all of the emotional support her friends can give her.

MIF Speaks: I know you did not write to me about this. Let me gets this straight, months from now when your friend, now living on skidrow dies some horrible deaths from the elements, how is it going to sound when all her friends are gathered around and they ask you who are you and you reply one of her closest friends. They look at you puzzled because they never recalled seeing you when they here mere associates were trying to get help for her. Yo woman grow some breasts, if this woman is your friend you should be able to talk to her during the bad, not just the good. Yeah, life sucks sometime both of you need to deal with it and you need to be a little stronger to get her through it. If you are as you say a close friend, act like it or get to steppin.

Dear Abby 1

2006-09-16T20:39:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, Dear Abby is the perfect jumping off point

DEAR ABBY: My sister had a childhood friend, "Denise," with whom she was very close in elementary school. They were friends only intermittently as they grew older, and Denise started getting into all kinds of trouble. When they were in college, my sister house-sat for my parents while they were on vacation, and Denise stayed with her. While she was there, she stole some expensive jewelry from my mother.
Although the family never confronted Denise about it, it was obvious that she took the jewelry, and my sister did not remain in contact with her after that.
My sister is now 40 and expecting her first child. I have offered to throw a shower for her.
A couple of years ago, Denise got in touch with my sister and they became friends again. I don't know much about her last 20 years, other than that she spent time in jail and is now a single mother to a teenage son and works for a non-profit agency.
Given her history with the family, I definitely do not want to invite Denise into my home for the shower, and my mother is adamant that she will not attend the shower if Denise is there. My sister wants to invite Denise because they are friends again, and she doesn't know how to tell her that she isn't invited. What do we do?

Abby's Answer: If your sister is not already aware of your feelings and your mother's, she should be enlightened. If she still wishes to invite Denise to her baby shower, then it will have to be held somewhere other than your home -- and your mother will not be there.

However, considering the circumstances, I think it's time your sister grew a backbone and explained to Denise that the theft left lasting hard feelings with the family -- which are understandable -- so she should not expect to be included at any family functions that include your mother.

MIF Speaks: So let me get this straight, bitch steals thousands of dollars of jewelry from you and all you can think to do is turn the other cheek. Clearly those strong Christian values are impeding your sisters good sense and for this she has only your mother to blame. I certainly don't blame Denise for getting in touch with your sister, fresh out of jail with the knowledge that your family doesn't press charges, your sister being the patsy that she is this seems like a good place to get some easy walking around money. If your sister won't lay down the law, then you must and to help you out let me offer you this, "Denise, look it's all cool and shit that you got your life together, but you f-n stole from us, do honestly think I am going to let me into my house. Hellz no. Now you got to gets to steppin'"

India's Street Dentists Are a Vanishing Breed

2005-07-10T17:44:00.000-07:00

By STACEY STOWE
Published: June 7, 2005
New York Times

JAIPUR, India - Mahender Singh of Jaipur sells false teeth and dental services near a sidewalk apothecary and alongside a bicycle tire repairman.

He plucked the fruits of his labor, a long yellowed incisor, out of a metal bowl and held it aloft.
"It wasn't working right," the dentist, Mahender Singh, said. "It kept turning left and right when he ate." Mr. Singh gestured toward his patient, a 48-year-old from Lucknow who was spitting streams of blood into the gutter. Mr. Singh, a Sikh whose family immigrated to India from Lahore, Pakistan, many decades ago, is brisk and understated when discussing his trade. He is the poor man's dentist, he says, and he likes it that way.

"I am not from a rich family, so I work here," he said, gesturing to his corner of the sidewalk on a weekday afternoon. "I work locally for the poor people." Street services are hardly an anomaly in the cities and villages here. Around the corner from Mr. Singh, a sidewalk apothecary promotes medical concoctions derived from trees. A few paces away, a man sits in the street repairing bicycle tires, his tool kit in his lap. Roadside barbers are plentiful. And sidewalk chefs preside over vats of hot oil to fry sweet and savory pastries.

But the street dentist is no longer so ubiquitous. Dr. Ajay Kakar, a periodontist in Mumbai who maintains a Web site for his dental colleagues, estimates that fewer than 100 remain.
India has 80,000 dentists with degrees - and offices. Each year, 11,200 join the field, Dr. Kakar said. The nation's first dental institution was the R. Ahmed Dental College in Calcutta; it had its first graduating class in 1958.

Mr. Singh took a different route. He learned his trade from his father. Later, he taught his son, giving the boy, now 25, his blessing and former location, on a sidewalk in busy area near the "old city," where signature rose-painted buildings glow in the afternoon sun.

[...]

His office is tidy, albeit dusty, a few steps from a public water faucet. The work area consists of tarps laid on concrete under a bamboo and linen awning with a chair and its leopard-print cushion. The tools are neatly arrayed on a cloth atop concrete block. A pot of water simmers over a copper stove. An enormous tin box like those favored by carpenters holds extra dental tools. Between patients, Mr. Singh douses his weathered hands with a purple liquid, although he is less than consistent about using the antiseptic.

When approached by a former patient, who immediately popped out his dentures to register a complaint about an irritation, Mr. Singh plunged his fingers into the man's mouth seconds after they were in the mouth of another patient. The occasional fly alighted on his hands, the instruments and patients. Still, there is a modicum of sophistication about the ancient art. No swig of whiskey or bite of a bullet is offered to assuage an ache. Mr. Singh injects an anesthetic into the gums.

Asked whether patients passed out from the pain, he said: "All the time. Right here in the street."
At his side, arranged like museum pieces, are two dozen or so pairs of used dentures on a red tarp.

The dentally challenged or merely curious poke at the wares and hold them up to the sunlight.
This being India, where socializing is as necessary as air, a small crowd gathered as Mr. Singh filed down a partial bridge for patient No. 2, a 45-year-old aide at a hospital. The patient, Zaman Ali, could scarcely wait for Mr. Singh to remove his hand before praising him.

"I work for the government hospital," Mr. Ali said. "But I don't like to go to the doctors there."
Mr. Singh is also cheaper. For his new slimmed-down bridge, Mr. Ali paid 125 rupees, or $1.35. At dentist's office, the fee could run 10,000 rupees. Gopilal Lodhirajabuth, the man who popped out his bridge for an impromptu consultation, testified to Mr. Singh's talent. "No complaints for four years," he said. Mr. Singh was eager to display acknowledgments.

Within minutes of meeting a visitor, he displayed a letter from an aluminum box that was an undated thank you from Marjorie Simpson, a dentist in Florida who stopped on a tour of the city.

[...]

Am I the only one who sees the remarkable similarity of Marjorie Simpson to one Marge Simpson, wife of Homer, and mother of Bart, Lisa, and Maggie.

It would appear that Jayson Blair is not the only New York Times reporter taking shortcuts.

Snowballs

2005-04-04T20:45:00.000-07:00

If you did not know, thanks to Bill Clinton, everyone knows, every guy loves a good blow job. And quite frankly very few of us are particular about the source. As long as she can make Thor blow his top, what do I care?

Some women are not to keen on the process. For whatever reason, they just find it disgusting. Disgusting? The penis is beautiful and from my perspective should be worshipped. You will never hear me say that the clitoris, vagina, the labium major and the labium minor are unattractive. Quite the opposite, they are beautiful and naturally tasty. I mean have you ever gone down on a woman who just finished working out; she glistens and the taste. Mmmmm Tasty!!!! But I digress.

For whatever reasons there are some women who will not take the time to give a good blowjob. Some don’t like the thought. Period. End of discussion. Others won’t do it because they don’t like the taste of semen; others have an aversion to swallowing and either hate the clumsiness of spitting it back out or just want to avoid the conversation which begins, “Why didn’t you swallow?” Frankly, to swallow or not to swallow is no big deal to me. The way I see it, I am giving a gift, while I would hope that you appreciate the gift, it is quite possible that you might not like it. In any event, I should be completely indifferent as to what you do with the gift afterwards. If anything, I should be upset that I gave you a gift that you did not like. And this was the position, I found myself in not too long ago.

To protect the identity of the girl, I will call her April. April and I had been dating for while and if I say so myself she was quite pleased with my oral technique. I think it was because I took my time. I never rushed to reach Everest. I would spend time on the neck as one hand caressed, massaged, and stroked her legs, slowly working my way to the inner thigh. Coming down, I was sure to tease her breast and bury my head in her stomach. And once her body began to relax, and then, and only then, would I make a muff dive. Suck. Probe, Kiss, and occasionally I sent out my All Hands Team. I could go for hours because I truly enjoyed my work. (Not to brag, but one woman once considered marketing my talents for profit.)

Unfortunately, April did not like giving blowjobs. Now, I will be honest, I was a bit upset because I liked a good blowjob from time to time. But at the same time, I was no fan of the perfunctory, half-assed, phone it in blowjob. If you are going to do something, do it full-assed or no-assed at all! And if she didn’t like giving me, then I as a good boyfriend should know that this will not be a well received gift and should just skip the blowjob all together.

Then one day, events conspired in my favor. That night, I got the blowjob of a lifetime. It made my toes curl. No blowjob before and no blowjob since had come even close. Overnight, April had gone from a D student to head of the class. Still though, she didn’t swallow and on some level it bothered me. I took in all of fluids. Hell, I sopped her up with a biscuit, what was wrong with my little guys. One step at a time, be grateful for what I have.

In time, she eventually became a swallower and all was right with the world until…One day after a particularly nice blowjob, she came up to kiss me. At the time it didn’t seem unusual; often after spending time going down on her, I would give her a deep French kiss her. So when she her head lowered down to meet my lips, I was just thinking I want to kiss this woman. I was more than a little surprised when she parted my lips only to deposit a mouth full of sperm down my throat. The idea of re-gifting had not occurred to me. But then I had a couple of thoughts, often I had gone down on her only to kiss her with her juice still on my tongue, how is this different? Or should I expect her to swallow, if I am not willing to swallow myself. The eroticism of the experience quickly took over, the thoughts disappeared and I found myself wanting more. I swallowed like a nomad coming across water in the desert. It was the ultimate sharing experience. And so it is that I was introduced to the art of snowballing.

But at the time, I did not know that it even had a name. I just thought it to be one of the ultimate sharing experiences between two people in love. What made it work, though was the way she controlled the delivery. It was never such that she would go down, and give it back to me. I never knew when it was coming. It was the surprise that made it good. To be honest, I am now pretty much a crack whore when it comes to snowballing, but only with the right person. Hey, I love a blowjob but for a snowball I need to connect.

News Bulletin From God

2005-03-31T19:32:00.000-08:00

Unless your name is Elijah, rule number one of life: people die and rule number two, doctors and certainly not Congress can change rule number one.

Center for Sex and Culture

2005-02-06T10:39:00.000-08:00

The class on Erotic writing has already started. But if you are free this Friday, I would recommend Bondage and BonBons www.pervercity.org.

Also next weekend, Nina Hartley presents Erotic Enhancements Sex Fundamentals for Couples.

Public Service Announcement: Pussy the Seminar

2005-01-25T18:22:00.000-08:00

Pussy, the Seminar $35.00 per person ...creating safe space dialogue about our most controversial body part

Where & When:
The Womens Building
3543 18th Street
San Francisco, CA 94110
February 19, 2005
1:18 PM-3:14PM

This quaint, yet provocative seminar is designed to get women talking. We all have stories about our experiences with our bodies. These stories tell our truths from the perspective of our sexuality, our physical health, our spiritual lives, our emotional experiences. In Pussy, The Seminar we share and we learn. We come together to discuss care and maintenance of the vagina and its common visitors including our monthly menstrual friend. We fight the good fight against the fierce fibroid. We share successful strategies for combating the familiar yeast infection in this low carb millennium. We ask questions about fertility, breast cancer and bacterial vaginosis. We explore taboos and cultural messages around body image, masturbation, romance, marriage, pornography and sexual orientation. We find courage, answers and solutions. We discover and claim our Pussy Power proudly!

Pussy, The Seminar is facilitated by Life Enhancement Consultant, Tarita Thomas. She is a woman with a dream of reconnecting men and women with the feminine. She designed this seminar to cross boundaries and stir up positive, proactive thought. The expected outcome of attending this seminar is empowerment for women and the men who show up in their lives as fathers, brothers, sons and lovers.

In Pussy the Seminar we will talk about care & maintenance, common questions & concerns, pleasure and lack thereof, what it looks like, smells like, feels like and much more. This gathering is designed to get us talking.

There are very few spaces we can go to ask the questions we need answers to and get answers for questions we didn't even know we had. Pussy, The Seminar is a rather provocative title for this much needed space. Please join us for a radiant and riveting two hour group discussion. Come learn, come share.

My Boyzilian

2005-01-23T21:10:00.000-08:00

If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well
It were done quickly: … Macbeth Act 1 Scene 7

“Hi, I need to check-in.”

“You are early. Did you want to apply the numbing cream?”

Firmly and without hesitation, “No.” Odd as this may seem, I felt weirder about my nuts being numbed then the actual waxing.

I took a seat in the waiting area. All day, I had thought about canceling my appointment to get the pubes waxed. For what seemed like an interesting idea on paper seemed like a dumb idea at this point. I mean I could always work with the artist to capture my body the way I wanted it captured and the nude photography did not look like it was going to happen. Still, here I was.

Oh yeah…the idea of being out $90 without a thing to show, so to speak, did not strike me as a good idea. Plus, I had a hard time of believing the women, who said, “I would be crying for momma, that no man could handle such pain.” I couldn’t give them the satisfaction. So, there I sat in the BellaPelle waiting area, head high and nuts held close waiting for my first Boyzilian.

Funny thing is, once seated in the waiting room, which was probably no bigger than the living room of a modest one bedroom with the high ceilings found in really old buildings, it was like a strange calm overcame me. Maybe it was the soft tones of the décor – the walls were papered with striped baby blue/white paper and the floor a plush powder blue carpet and four matching chairs for waiting. In one of the two chairs to my left, just opposite the receptionist, was a woman thumbing through a magazine as she waited for her friend to finish. I would take a seat in one of the two chairs to the left of the receptionist, just outside the entrance to the spa area.

The door opened. It was the friend.

The door opened again, this time my name was called. Wow, that was quick. It was just turning 6. My aesthetician, Lisa, was a young lass, I would say late 20s and very pleasant. She certainly did look like she could hurt anyone. She led me to a small room, probably no bigger than 12 x 4 just big enough for the table, a counter on the back wall, and the lamp and wax cart.

“Take off everything. You can use the wipes to wipe down everything to be waxed and when you finish drape this towel over your waist. I’ll wait for you outside.”

Well, I guess it was time. I had done as asked, avoided caffeine, got some potassium and plenty of fluids, ate a decent meal beforehand and took the Vitamin I as suggested. I had prepared myself as well as I had any marathon, I felt ready. Then I felt this little stir.

“Is there a restroom I can use?” And no it was not for what you are thinking! I’d be on the table for an hour or so and having followed fluid intake religiously, it would probably be a good idea to drain the chain one last time as once she started there would be no going then.

I guess now it was time. I stripped out of my clothes, folded them neatly and placed them on the foot stool at the foot of the bed. I hopped onto the table and covered up as best I could. As if on cue, Lisa re-entered the room.

She came into the room prepped the wax and pulled the lamp over the area to be deforested.

Except for her exposed tattooed covered arms, Lisa looked like a surgeon as she extended her hands to put on her gloves. Snap. Snap. And then with a casual flick, my towel was gone.

Guys, in case you are wondering, if being completely exposed while some woman is about to be playing around your nuts excites you, get those ideas out of your mind right now. For, there is absolutely nothing sexual about this. It was all quite clinical.

“This your first wax?”

“Yes. Will this be painful?”

“No, not as long as everything is pulled tight, it should be okay.

“How would you like it to look?”

I had given considerable thought to this question. Women, who prefer the Brazilian to the regular bikini wax, lean either towards clean or landing strip. No shortage of women has mentioned being somewhat freaked out by the idea of a man with no carpet, too much like a 12 year old. One even went so far to say, “If I were with a man and it got to that point and I saw he was completely clean, I would be like… umm, no! I gotta go!” First off, I’d like to know why I didn’t know these girls when I was 12. But really, I don’t know what 12 year old boy they are looking at, but having once been a 12 year old male, I can assure you a smooth pubes on an adult are considerably different than clean pubes on an adolescent. The most notable difference is in the size and the fullness of the penis and scrotum. Still, I had ruled out clean as a possibility.

Normally, when I groom myself, I go for an inverted triangle with the penis forming the point. A landing strip was not really practical because you want it to look natural and the hairs across my stomach would have made the entire area look more like the top of a Dr. Grip pen instead of a landing strip. I briefly considered a trail down to the penis, but I did not schedule the stomach wax to make it natural, so I stuck with the triangle.

“Okay. I need you bend your knees out.” And with that, she began the prep work.
…

“I need you to hold it to the left.” Ah, this would be a completely interactive process. And with that she be applied the first of the pink gooey substance.

“Hot.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

“Not hot in a bad sense, more like hot in a warm comfortable, I like the way it feels sense.”

“Still, I will turn down the lamp a little.”

I watched as the hair quickly adhered to the wax and she used a small fan to harden the wax and expedite the process. Once harden she pulled up the wax at the edges and then with a quick yank, she pried it off my body. I was expecting it would hurt, at least be a little painful, but it wasn’t. It felt more like someone had quickly pulled duct tape off the body but in a more sensual sort of way. It could have been the immediate feel of the smoothness that made it feel good. All I know is I was anxiously awaiting the next application of wax and yank.

Lisa had been at it for a few minutes before she asked me how I was holding up. I was hesitant to let her know how I really felt. I mean it wasn’t painful, maybe a slight bit discomforting, but in the discomfort I actually found something rather enjoyable. It was like when you are watching a basketball game and the announcer states that the guy at the line hasn’t missed all night, and then, he bricks his next free throw. The two have nothing to do with each other, but you can’t help but thinking you just jinxed the whole thing. I mean she still had a whole lot o’ pube to go and at any moment the slight joy I was feeling could turn to the immense pain that I had been warned to expect. But reason dictated my left scrotum was no more sensitive than the right; so I said, “It wasn’t painful at all.” In fact, I was smiling as I awaited the next dose of hot wax.

“Never heard that before.”

“Can you pull it more to the left?”

“How many request do you get for boyzilians?”

“Anywhere from a few a day for a month to just a few a week.

“Pull it up.

“At first, I’d say we had more gay customers but now we have lot straight men that come in for a clean up.

“Pull it to the right.”

It does have a name I thought. Is it too hard to say penis? Does she not like my penis? I mean in the course of her work she must see enough penises, why doesn’t she just say penis. Or was it just my penis, what was it with my penis that she couldn’t say penis? I wanted to ask but passed.

“There are only a few places that do this.”

“Most women won’t do them. Here it is only me and the owner. It’s a little more expensive than for the women. It takes a little more time. But I don’t mind, most are regulars.”

“Must be your gentle touch.”

The continued wax and yank was rather arousing. I had also heard that some men find the experience almost too pleasurable to the point of pre-cum and some even shooting their entire wad. The aesthetician generally just takes it in stride and offers the guy a tissue and continues about her work. Having been on the table some 40 plus minutes, I found the experience somewhat pleasurable – it stimulated the loins - but to the point of actually coming, no, it wasn’t that good. There was nothing sexual about her work. Maybe those guys are just quick shooters or maybe they excited by pain, which if that is the case I would say they have an extremely low pain threshold but that is the subject of another post. Still, I have to think those stories are the work of urban legend.

After she had finished waxing the pubes, Lisa ran the clippers across the remaining hair to tighten it up. Think bald fade. And like my barber, she asked me how I liked it before she finished. The sides were a bit uneven and there was some hair caught between the scrotum and thigh which she had missed. More wax.

“What about the area at the top of the penis?”

Wow, she actually said penis.” That is a hard spot to shave as you need to hold the penis down to shave with the grain. One slip and you have a nasty cut. “Mos’ def’, we need to clean that up.”

“Pull it down.”

“That’s nice.”

“Cheeks?”

“Yes.”

“Are you are runner?” she asked, as she applied the wax.

“Yes.”

“You have a runner’s physique.”

“Thank you.”

“I think you will like this. We have more men coming in for waxing and you clearly keep you hair short. This just compliments your clean look.”

Whether this was blowing smoke or her honest feeling it was working.

“To get those inner hairs, I need you to hold your cheek.”

“Kinda slick.”

“Here let me get you a towel.”

“Other side.”

“Smooth.”

“You will be back; you look like a groomer. “You handled this very well.”

And then she was gone.

I admired her work for a while taking the mirror to look at my newly smooth oiled cheeks, balls and penis. The fade on the pubes was very well-done as well. It was very clean and I much liked the symmetry of the heads. You can beat proper grooming. She would definitely be getting a nice tip.

I dressed. I was sure to wear the silk underwear today. Nice. I can’t imagine some women find this painful, I would think a man has a few more sensitive parts than a woman. Women, talk about the low pain threshold we men have, how we can’t handle the pain. A little discomforting but by no means is it anywhere near as painful as a fastball hitting you in the nuts. I actually enjoyed the wax and look forward to the next hot wax and the smooth feel of my nuts.

Wax on, Wax off

2005-01-23T10:52:00.000-08:00

For everyone waiting to read about my experience at BellaPelle, I hope to post the entry today.

Bumper Stickers I Would Like to See

2005-01-20T09:52:00.000-08:00

I don’t give a damn about your honor roll student.

My child beat up your honor roll student

My child sells Crystal Meth to your Honor Roll Student.

You Honor Roll Student Cheats

He may be an honor roll student, but he still owes me child support

Honor Roll Today, Clear Heels Tomorrow

Career Advice: With a mere $5000 investment, stripping can be a fairly lucrative career (actual advice given to a Bay Area middle school by local CEO)

If given the choice, either accept the promises of a “Madman” or Defend the United States, I choose Defend the United States…John Kerry for President

If it’s a global war on terrorism why are we the only ones bearing the cost?

“Mom, dad, I have some bad news and I have some good news. Last night, I was arrested for drunk driving and possession - a gram a coke, but the good news is Laura and I still haven’t had any premarital sex.”
“Phew, we can pay the judge but you’ll never get your virginity back. We are so proud of you.”

Pubic Waxing Revisited

2005-01-19T13:32:00.000-08:00

For those of you who do not care to scroll down to the earlier post, later this week, I intend to get my first wax, a Boyzilian. For those not in the know, the Boyzilian waxes the pubic, penis, scrotum, and butt hairs. I located three places in San Francisco which perform this service.

Being new at this, I felt I had to ask a few questions. I mean someone is going to be using hot wax to rip hairs off a rather sensitive part of my body. If you do a search on waxing you will find that spas will praise their wax as best. You tend to dismiss this as the likelihood of one rating their wax as second best, leaves bruises tends to be low. So it was homework time.

I decided to call just two of the spas, Tru and BellaPelle, the more expensive ones. Total price differential amongst the three was about $25 and if you are getting your nuts waxed, this really isn't the time to be lowballing as price is a function of not only experience but in this case, location as well. These two places are in the heart of the city, the other outside. Given this, the price was about equal. It just happens that the two places I called fit my schedule better. And quite honestly, I figured the quality of service would be about the same at all three and the final call would just come down to where I felt most comfortable.

I was quite pleased with both spas; as after explaining that this will be my first wax, they were quite patient answer my questions and down right enthusiastic about welcoming me in as a new client. Naturally, my first question was about the type of wax they would be using. Turns out, they both use a hard wax which is preferred for the coarser hairs of the pubic area, but since not all hairs are created equal, BellaPelle may use a different wax for the surrounding areas. But the team at BP also gave me some advice on what to do and not do. For example, caffeine the morning of is a no-no, but breakfast is a must and getting some potassium, such as with a banana and or apple juice, is a good idea. Plus, Vitamin I about an hour beforehand will help to ease any discomfort. For an additional fee, BP will apply a numbing cream. They recommend it for first-timers and anyone who may not like the idea of pain.

At this moment, I lean toward BP, http://www.bellapelle.com/index.htm

For the other spas: http://www.truspa.com/ and http://www.amschonsten.com/pages/1/index.htm

But I guess the more interesting question is why would anyone subject themselves to this. Personally, I just don't believe women when they say waxing and shaving are painful. But more importantly, as I start to think about my nude portrait, I am beginning to pay more attention to my body.

Human Body as Art

2005-01-19T11:11:00.000-08:00

"A nude...of you?"

"Yes, a woman I know has a nude hanging in her living room. It was such a beautiful work of art and every time I went in the house, I was instantly drawn to it. It took me a while to realize that the person in the picture was the owner. It was such an incredibly intriguing work of art."

"And you want to do this because?"

"Have you ever noticed just how beautiful the body is? The muscle tone, the definition.

"Why?"

"I really like the idea of the nude; how the subject is exposed, and how the right artist can pull you out, find your vulnerabilities?"

"Where are you going to hang this? Somewhere private, I hope."

"No. I think I am going to hang it in my living room. I think it will be very beautiful piece for all to see."

So, I placed an ad on Craigslist, and within half a day, I had about a dozen responses from various Bay Area artist, who are willing to take me up on my proposal. I am really intrigued by a few of them, who I think will be able to capture what I am want to create.
I have called a couple but have not met with any yet. I hope to do so by week's end. In the mean time, let me share with you some people who I think have great promise...http://ihart.net/figure.htm, www.artdesignsf.com, http://www.jonparr.com, http://gabberwocky.5u.com, and http://www.oberbeckart.com.

If anyone has any suggestions, I would love to hear them.

Next: The Art of Snowballing

Dating in the Internet Age

2005-01-18T22:28:00.000-08:00

Oh to be in school again. Not because I miss class, its just that one finds that as you get older it gets harder and harder to find a readily accessible pool of eligible mates. We fall into routines - go to the same places, see the same people, forego the bars, and never meet the person with whom you simply click. So we turn to the internet - JDate is terribly popular, Match.com seems to have its disciples, Yahoo is popular, thesquare.com allows highly intelligent people to share DNA, and Nerve.com attracts many users of the above but their Nerve. com profiles tend to be a bit more irreverent. And so surprisingly this is how I met LadyA. I say surprisingly because the likelihood of African-American male meeting a potential date is almost impossible. But that is the rant of a different day. Today, its the woes of dating...

On paper she seemed like a nice person - a southern girl, loves to laugh, is comfortable with Paul Mooney and going to the Kennedy Center. But she lives in Alexandria, VA a good 3000 miles from me, but my parental units are in Maryland and I would be going home for Christmas, so prepping the playing field seemed like a good idea. For weeks, we chatted like old friends. I wasn't necessarily thinking we'd be knockin' boots but I didn't want to impede prematurely any possibility.

Finally, we made plans to meet for dinner at McCormick and Schmick the Wednesday before Christmas. I was already in D.C. when I got her message that she may need to postpone as she was headed down south to some city near Richmond to help her friend with a flat tire. Though a thoughtful thing to do my mind is thinking, "what, your friend couldn't pay the $72 for Triple A?" At any rate, I return her call, and since I am in DC, I figure I might as well stay, maybe either meet up with some of my friends from back in the day or just hangout in Dupont Circle at Kramer Books and Afterwords, www.kramers.com, that place is simply delicious (with credit to Mr. Van). I just missed LadyA's return call in which she offers to cancel our plans. A good gentleman, I call her backwith all intention of accepting her offer, but she seemed nice and it wasn't likely that I would get another opportunity to meet her in the near future, so like an idiot, I agree. However, what was once dinner at McCormick and Schmick was now a cuppa joe at a coffee shop in Alexandria.

At the time, it seemed like a good idea, but when I got back to the car, I started to think she is over an hour outside the city but claims she will be back in 30 minutes, I don't think so. And by the time we did meet and talk, it would be too late to get food and I would be going to bed without any porridge and that is something that we just can't have. I'm a growing boy, I need to eat and it now being close to 8 hours since I last ate, food was foremost on my mind. And eating at the 'rents was no longer an option.

It is amazing how little food the units keep in the house. As it so happened, when I told the 'rents I would be eating out, they decided to forego the grocery store opting instead to eat out and having once previously been caught in DC after 10, I knew the possibility of finding food later was going to be limited. Rethinking the plan, if LadyA and I did meet, I know knockin' boots its not going to happen and now, I am not even going to get my belly sated. What the hell was I thinking, I had a free out, why didn't I take it.

I called LadyA, "We need to rethink this plan. Do you think we can find some place to eat?"

"Well, the ubiquitous coffee shop has sandwiches."

It's almost 8 pm, I can't possibly believe that this coffee shop would have fresh sandwiches, I think to myself. "Is there someplace else we can go, I haven't eat since lunch and I am really hungry?"

"Well, I don't know DuPont Circle and I need to go to work tomorrow, so let's meet at the mall; they have food."
....

Mall food. Mall food. I am approaching 40; my idea of date even if it is not a date date does not consist of meeting someone for mall food. Teenagers meet for mall food. Parents with screaming children feed the kids mall food. I do not go gently from M&S to mall food. How can one live near DC and not know DC.
....

"Well, there is a Ruby Tuesday in the mall."
...

Amazing how mall food started sounding good right about then. "There has got to be somplace in Alexandria we can meet for dinner? What about Old Town?"

"I don't know Old Town."
...

Think. Think. I have got to know someplace to eat but it has been 10 years since I lived in DC and I have no idea what restaurants are still open... "Fine, I'll meet you at Ruby Tuesday."

Click.

It was a telltale click. She was not going to be at Ruby Tuesday, but I thought I should at least make the effort and so I do. And I wait, and wait, and wait...I call her a couple of times but only got her voicemail. I let her know that I was at Ruby Tuesday, but I didn't expect much.

And so it went, I would return to DC to dine at Wrap Works and peruse the new selections at KramerBooks. Sometime these things work and sometimes they don't. Didn't really know her beforehand and not knowing her is no terrible loss. Such is life. We live; we learn; we move on and so I did.

Sure she was nice on paper, but as our Boomer says, "these games aren't played on paper."

I don't know, you never know what you are going to get in the dating game, but to pay a monthly subscription to deal with these tired antics just doesn't seem worth it. I think I will stick with the traditional methods.

The Bachelorette

2005-01-18T17:38:00.000-08:00

As a matter of practice, I typically avoid shows like the Bachelorette, Who Wants to Marry a Millionaire, and the Bachelor; the premise strikes me as stupid. One desperate individual and 18 potential suitors, all of whom seem like they are playing a game, trying to be the last person standing. But now like millions of others, I find myself tuned into the Bachelorette, not because the one individual is attractive (she is) or that she seems real and has no expectations (she doesn't). No, what has me glued to my television at 9pm on Monday night is Josh Cox, the professional marathoner.

As it so happens, a Professor friend of mine spent a few weeks running and rooming with Josh at Altitude Camp this past summer. And so it is, that I, a fellow runner, not quite in the league of a Josh Cox or for that matter even my friend, find myself glued to the telly rooting Josh's chances.

My observations:

I like this Jen girl. Like I said, she seems real. I don't know her background but she seems realistic about the person she is going to meet. I love her cut-aways, "These guys need to chill."

And she is right, listening to them you would think they are either trying to say the things they think she wants to hear or they are the most desperate people in the world. I am going with the latter. One suitor was like, "I want to know everything about you. Your favorite color? City or Country? Kids, No Kids?" Mercifully, Jen kicked him to the curb, as she was neither instantly in love nor ready to let him bear her children. Stu, for future reference, slow down, let it flow naturally. Don't press.

Then there is every girl's dream guy, the autographer seeker. As a guy, any woman who comes up to me seeking an autograph and simultaneously professing her love is a future booty call. But if I were a woman, I would just find it kind of creepy. Frankly, if one is an autograph seeker, I would think they would want want Josh's. It does nothing for me, but at least he was an A1 story in the WSJ, and I suppose there is that little something about being an olympic marathon qualifier. Advice to autograph dude: Get a spine - be a man.

Can someone tell me why they cast African-Americans on these shows. They have no realistic shot of making it deep into the rounds, let alone becoming the potential suitor. For we all know, if they did Oral Roberts will be calling Ralph Reed who will be calling FatCats who will be calling the Puppetmaster, who will request that his boy propose a Constitutional Amendment, the SRMA (Same Race Marriage Act.)

But back to the show, Josh is the only normal person and for that reason, I suspect he will be the last man standing.

Pubic Waxing

2005-01-18T16:58:00.000-08:00

So, recently (like forever), I have been much intrigued by Brazilian wax jobs. Call me crazy, but I think they are sexy. But very few places offer an equivalent services for men. Now, I can't really fathom the amount of pain one must endure for a wax, but I have been a long time groomer. I like the symmetry of a well groomed head and well a well groomed head. Now that I have a chrome dome, it would seem only logical that I take up the carpet. And so it is that after much legwork on my part that I have found a spa in San Francisco that will strip the floor covering. Stay tuned for one man's journey into pubic waxing...

How do?

2005-01-18T15:42:00.000-08:00

Welcome to my world. Over the next few weeks, months and years, I hope to provide you with significant entertainment that reading my blog will be as much a part of your day as brushing your teeth, unloading, going to work, caressing the kitty, walking the dog, and spanking the monkey.