our 88th weekly open mike
Let’s see what happens when your host (me) has nothing to say. Step right up, speak your mind, tell a story, sing a song, whatever.
7/11/2026
Anything goes: 7/11/2026
4 responses to “Anything goes: 7/11/2026”
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Orgasm Update
I’m on a streak, eleven for eleven including six in June and somehow my libido has stormed back or my concentration on the fantasies is better? Some of you industrious wankers might scoff at my frail numbers but to me they’re fucking great, with Melissa leading the way, Mimi a distant second and Arco pulling into third in the fantasy rotation ledgers.
It’s still a little stressful when prepping for the big moment with all the moving parts being gathered and activated: music, lube, weed and choosing which filly from the rotation. Now that I’m relaxing in post-orgasmic bliss I’m relieved that I’ll have three or four days off from treating myself like a piece of meat, mmm a nice break from the onanistic rat race…
(I did score some more free weed, is there always a price?, from Steve and it was a very nice aphrodisiac, though a little moist so I cut it up and put it outside on a shelf, taking advantage of the hot afternoon and sure enough it was dry enough to roll and smoke at the end of the day.)PS: Out of touch and haven’t read any of your latest, busy with the family reunion which is going well and almost over, one more visit/ hang out time…
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If “eleven for eleven including six in June” means you’re 5-for-5 in July, then you’re doing better than me, at least in quantity.
The trend I notice more and more is less fantasy about things that haven’t happened because I know they never will, and more replay of things that did happen, 10-50+ years ago. If those files were wiped, I’d be lost.
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my thing is i don’t make the (inappropriate) move in reality,
then come back 20 years later and have at it…
reunion over, it went well, except my sister threw a turd in the punch bowl
in the last 15 minutes and i got splashed…
just wrote up the story, may share sometime…Celeste
I woke up at 3:30 after six hours sleep and instead of getting up and starting the day with herb tea and light meditation I just lay there thinking then snoozing and when I finally got up four hours later I’d squeezed out another hour of sleep but felt shitty. Well, that’s what this coffee is for, to spring me out of this malaise, and I was going to take a walk in the park then a sauna but did neither.
At the farmers market I passed out some “Sr. News” copies and had a nice talk with Celeste, the young Dominican beauty, mostly her telling me about her biological father who had just got out of prison. She greeted me with a hug and wanted to explain why she was on the phone so much the week before, when I had thought she was just feeling or acting standoffish. She set me down in her chair so she could be at the same level and told me the story.
He had been in prison thirty years for murder, didn’t want to leave the last six months and now that he was out Celeste had arranged an apartment for him for $150 a month and a woman for $350 a month who will help him out with cooking, medication and more. The apartment is across the street from the hospital and near the prison so he can still go back and play on his jail volleyball team with the other inmates. He often doesn’t take his medication for schizophrenia and so they’ll give him monthly injections instead. If the landlord knew this diagnose they would kick him out so they say he has Alzheimers instead.
She gave me a parting hug, I guess we’ve evolved into that in the six weeks I’ve known her since she set up her booth selling odd things. Today it was beet hummus or beet tahini, anyway some odd purply thing as she tries to be an entrepreneur. She’s gonna go back to trimming weed now that she has to send all that money down to the Dominican Republic for her father. (It’s funny about the hugs: last year I had a hug with the mother of four kids once or twice, went in for another at this year’s market and she flinched, and I thought, hmm, no carryover? Maybe because I never buy any of the trinkets her children make I’m not hug-worthy anymore?)
Celeste might be someone who I could hire as personal and creative assistant as she has no kids or evident dog and might needs to make more money, we’ll see…
(Photo: Believe it or not this is my new friend Celeste, wow…)
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Hugs is complicated, like chess only moreso. My current policy is to never open arms and start a hug, but I will allow and reciprocate if some other idiot gets things started.
What is Sr. News?
Yes, by goodness golly, I would like to see the story of your sister (literally, I trust) throwing a turd into the punch bowl and it splashes you.
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