Confessions

Dearest Chutney,

Thanks for the update. Blessings on you. Life is busy for me as well. But the sun is shining more and winter is almost over. Today you are going to be my confessor as I share some of my dark deep secrets - stories really. Enjoy.

Extravagance
You mentioned the sweet word "vacation". Did I tell you I booked a cruise? Well I have. Me and the lads leave April 9th for Miami and seven days floating around the Caribbean. It is extravagant but it has been about 4 years since I have taken a luxurious holiday. In 2006, I took the lads to Cuba. We had a wonderful time there and I'm pretty sure we will this time. I've asked a lot of other cruisers and all of them have said they loved it. I can't wait.

Bitterness
Speaking of taking the boys on a trip, my ex has never taken them anywhere in the last 5 years. She and her sister took them to Disneyland when they were young but nothing in recent years. I think the most Spandex has done is take them north to visit her mother. It is possible that she has offered to take them on a trip and they refused but I can't remember them ever mentioning that.

I harbor quite a bit of bitterness toward her. It eats away at me sometimes. Son #1, Rhino, has an appointment with the dentist in a week or so. I booked it a year ago. Usually I would just take him and tell her en route but one of the professors at a local university wants me to make a presentation to her class. I agreed but it conflicts with the dentist appointment. So I sent an email to her highness to see if she could take him. Her exact response was, " I can’t take him -- I don’t remember scheduling this. I am guessing that he won’t go on his own as he doesn’t care much about this so you may need to reschedule.  If you want me to take him to appointments I need at least 6 weeks’ notice or might be easier if I schedule the things that I will be taking him to." Can you believe that? I have to ask her 6 weeks in advance to take her son to a medical appointment. That is nuts. What kind of mother needs 6 weeks to schedule time take her son to the dentist? Besides I sent her an email a year ago with the date of the appointment. When I reminded her of that, her response was "Yes, but I didn't see a request for me to take him."

Brick Lane
Funny you should bring up Brick Lane. I just finished reading it a month ago and I saw the movie a few years ago. I joined a book club that had picked that book to read. I joined the group because I like to read and I rarely get a chance to talk with others about what I read. So this was a good opportunity and besides I thought this might be a good opportunity to meet some new women. What a mistake that assumption was. I finished the book on the Saturday afternoon before the group meeting. I drove for what seemed like an hour to some God forsaken community way up northeast. I was welcomed at the door by 2 of the ugliest women in the city. These two seemed to go out of their way to be fat, homely and titless. Sorry for my poor view of humanity but sometimes some people just bother me. One was about 40 and still living with her parents. Who lives with their parents when they are 40? The other one, who owned the house we were meeting in, had a little dog. And you know what I think of yappy little ball biters. Two other women showed up which should have improved my odds but didn't. One gal was tall and easier on the eyes but she lived with her mother. What is wrong with people? The other gal was friendly and chatted with me quite a bit. She was recently separated. I considered offering her my "re-bound" services but she was over 50 and made me nervous. The only thing worse than 40 year old cougars is 50 year old lionesses. I just sat through the meeting holding my book on my lap, covering my fragile balls.

I'm glad to tell you that I survived the evening. I left alone - happily alone. Their review of Brick Lane was lame. The gal who chose the book started the discussion by saying she didn't like it. What's not to like? It is a good novel. The characters are well defined, unusual and interesting. The story is about skating on ice and escaping bondage. Here's my take.

Young gal moves from Bangladesh to London to live with her new husband. As you mentioned, it is an arranged marriage. She's not happy and he is under employed. All I can think about is that he is a lucky stiff - she's young, obliging and unlikely to break the marriage. Of course, I can't say this in a room full of cougars and lions - I value my life. The couple has a son who dies. Tragic. They have two daughters. Beautiful. The husband borrows money to buy a sewing machine for the wife. Young handsome guy drops off material for her to sew. The wife has an affair with him. Again I'm thinking, shit the guys in this novel are lucky. Free sex and no obligations. What more can you ask for? This is perfect. Husband probably knows about the affair but doesn't say anything and why should he, she's a pretty good cook, gave him 2 daughters and she doesn't seem to be leaving. But cracks in the relationship are starting to widen. The family has a great outing to a museum (I love that part of the book). This experience builds up the husband's sense of power. So he creates a plan to go back to Bangladesh. Unfortunately, he has to borrow more money. With the money he books a flight for all 4 family members. This is the turning point in the story that leads to the wife's freedom from debt, bondage and tradition. I'm thinking that I would love to be free but in a den of cats I keep my opinions to myself. The remainder of the novel is about how the wife escapes. First, she confronts the loan shark with the bullying sons and wins.  Next she dumps her boyfriend. Finally just before the flight takes off, she abandons her husband so that she can stay in London with her daughters who don't want to leave anyway.The ending of the novel is perfect. She is goes ice skating with her female friend. Free at last. What's not to like?

Impotence
Speaking of ugly, impotence is an ugly topic. Let me see if I can set this up without freaking myself out. Pickles and I are still hanging out. We do things together and every chance she gets she hauls me off to some bedroom to strip me naked. I should be loving this but I'm so conflicted that sometimes my noodle is al-dante. Either I'm getting too picky or maybe I'm just getting old or maybe it is her. Regardless, I feel guilt because I can't do the nasty with the lights on. A few years ago I was with another 48+ gal who always wanted to run around the house naked - even in the kitchen - with the windows open. I feared for the neighbors. There are some sights that should not be seen. She was over weight and had one breast that pointed down. I suppose gravity has an effect on every woman's breasts and they eventually start to point south. But just one? That was a bit freaky. To keep from going cross eyed I had to turn out the lights. This was after I was separated. I lasted 3 weeks with her.

Now it's the same with Pickles. When she starts her "sexy" striptease I just shudder and not from excitement. I cringe. I never thought I would be this selective. 10 or 20 years ago I could have fuck anything - a watermelon, a duck, a whore, a ... well you get the idea. I'm not saying I did all those things - I'm saying I could have - physically.  Even older women were appealing. Sexy MILFs with a bit if mileage and a lot of experience. Sounded good to me. Now when these grannies (or soon to be grannies) start their dance, I start looking for the light switch. I think I'm going to have to go to a strip club. I need to test the equipment and see if I'm getting old or if it is old women that make my hardware floppy. I hope it is that latter.

Double Dipping
So you want to hear about Valentines weekend? Okay, I'll admit that I wanted to do a bit of double dipping. I don't really believe in double dipping unless it is with 2 consenting gals in the same room at the same time - still one of my top 10 fantasies. I didn't actually double dip but I sure considered it. As you may have so astutely picked up, my brain is pickled. I didn't really mean to start another adventure it just sort of happened. I got an email from POF. Usually I just delete them because I don't have time to torture my brain. But I clicked and logged on. Within 10 minutes someone sent me a note. Seriously, I was the hunted not the hunter. She said that we had similar interests and she liked that. I'm thinking okay lady let's go for it. So I reply with a list of all her interests and comments about our similarities. I thought I was pretty quick and pretty smart. She replied. I replied and asked if she was interested in going for drink. She replied - affirmative. We met at an Irish bar a couple days later. She's nice, kinda cute, not gorgeous but livable. We arrange to go to a movie. We have fun. But I made some comment about buying Rhino some smokes. She asks me if I smoke. I reply in the negative but add that I have a puff on a cigar once in a while. She nearly freaks out explaining that her Dad died from lung cancer. I'm thinking this is a bit odd because we don't even have a relationship and she is already worried about me dieing. This should have been a clue. Nonetheless, I let things rest for about a week just so she doesn't think I'm desperate. I ask her to come to a gig that some friends in a band are having. He plays lead guitar in a blues band. It's Friday night before Valentines Day. To be on the safe side, I reserve that day to have dinner with Pickles. Lucky thing I did because Twinkle Toes (I can't even remember her name) is a horror story. I get to the bar and wait a 1/2 hour or so. She comes late. I'm trying to be nice so I had picked up some roses for her. When she eventually arrives I tell her I have a gift for her when she leave. She literally sneered and stated that Valentines day was a crock of shit and just a ploy by companies to get people to buy chocolates, flowers, cards and dinners. I was shocked. I mean she is correct but I still like Valentines Day. It is fun. So what if companies make a bit of money on the event. That is what life is all about. Spending money and having fun. Luckily the band was loud because things were uncomfortable. I gave her the flowers when we left. They were blood red and thorny. Just what she deserved. The bitch.