Nothing Beats A Good Head Job

On Easter Sunday I did something I have never done before. I was the designated driver. This was a new role for me as I'm usually the one in the back seat, reeking of beer and screaming for White Castle hamburgers. We had Easter dinner at a Mexican place called Don Pablo's as nothing says the Resurrection of Christ quite like Mexican food.

Donna, my mother in law, had two Tijuana Teas (tequila & iced tea) and Flannery had a pitcher of sangria (red wine with fruit juice). Donna can hold her own when it comes to wine, but mixed drinks go right to her head. Flannery is the original cheap drunk and half a beer is enough to make her loopy. She had four or five sangrias and developed that familiar twinkle at the corner of her eye that tells me she has had a little too much.

We finished our meal when Donna said she wanted to go to Bed, Bath, & Beyond. My father in law didn't want to go so he would take the kids back to the house and I volunteered to drive them as I only had water with lunch. They didn't have the beer I wanted and I wasn't going to drink the swill they had on tap.

I had never been to Bed, Bath, & Beyond as that isn't really my idea of shopping. If I'm shopping, it's for new boots, britches, or beer. I am a man of simple needs and very little means, so my shopping is infrequent and selective. Now this place is geared to a woman's tastes and that obvious from the moment you walk in. The only thing masculine in the place is the variety of towels with sports team logos on them.

In five minutes, I have walked the entire store and seen everything there is to see. I have read the dirty novelty cards and looked over the overpriced lawn furniture. I was surprised to see that they had an extensive selection of condoms. I didn't know that Trojans came in so many varieties. They had a His/Hers two pack of lube for seventeen dollars that seemed like the perfect gift for the couple who have everything. Apparently this is the Beyond part of the store's name.

For the next two hours, my tipsy wife and drunken mother in law oohed and fingered every damn thing in the store. I found a demonstrator model of a back massager and watched an infomercial for a bowel cleaner called Colon-Blow. They kept showing the nasty sludge that this miracle product would make shoot out of your butt, all for the cut-rate price of fifty dollars. No thanks.

Which brings me to my title. We also got a new shower head for the master bath. It took longer to remove it from it's package than it took to install. I thought the back massager in the store was awesome but the new shower head borders on uphoria inducing. I could almost hear the music from a douche commercial playing in the background as I froliced under the orgasmic jets of H2o.

I guess this means I'm going to clean up my act.

Somewhat.

Doc

Grandma's Little Secret

Flash Fiction Friday #10

The old camera had been in a box for decades, the pictures never developed, and now with the prints in his hand his blood ran cold from looking at the images that came from it. Here was Grandma in her prime and she wasn't handing out milk and cookies in these pictures. She was turning tricks with her ankles behind her ears or hanging onto the headboard for dear life. There was a mailman in the first photo who was delivering a package. In the second, a doctor was taking her temperature and he wasn't using a thermometer. Then came the gas station attendant who was there for a fill up and looked like he knew how to handle his pump. Each picture was a little more lewd than the last, but when he arrived at the last one of his high school English teacher, he gasped. Mr. Anderson wasn't there to grade her paper, but she did look like she had to stay after school for some naughty prank she had pulled. Here was Grandma in crisp black and white and she was ringing his school bell!

He always wondered why he managed to pass English in high school and never did any of the homework. He sat in shock. This wasn't the Grandma he knew. The Grandma who helped out at the soup kitchen and played cards on Sunday afternoon with the other old ladies in the neighborhood. Here was Grandma as a flagrant hussy who peddled her ass for money and favors! He shook his head as if to dismiss the perverse images from his mind. "I'll ask her about it when I go see her at the rest home on Tuesday," he thought as he shoved the pictures in the back of the desk drawer.

He glanced at his watch, "Time to go. Those ho's ain't gonna pimp themselves." He felt sheepish about seeing Grandma like that and the fact that in his line of work, he conned a lot of young pretty girls into doing the same thing. "Oh well," he consoled himself, "I guess I'm just keeping up the family business!"

Who's Up For A Little Romance?

The nights are getting longer and the weather has turned cold. It's time to light a fire in the fireplace and snuggle up with that certain someone. Turn the lights down low and as the soft music plays, let the wine warm you on the inside while he/she warms your outside. But are you a little out of practice? A little rusty in the ways of the oldest dance of man?

Then let ol' Doc help you out. Start your turntable and let the needle find it's groove...


The capital of Nebraska is Lincoln!

Doc

Have You Ever Felt Sexy?

Have you ever felt sexy? I'm not talking about feeling randy/horny/ready to go. I'm talking about feeling sexy.

Have you ever felt that at some small moment in your life that you had the draw that would pull in potential mates of only the finest kind. That sense that all of your pheromones were in sync and you wore the right clothes/cologne/shoes that would practically guarantee your finding a wonderful person who would move heaven and earth at your beck and call for the slimmest chance that they would have at balling you? Have you ever known that?

I have known it once, but that is another story.

Now, while you roll that around in your head, think of the flip side.

Have you ever been repugnant to those you were looking to have sex with? Have you ever gone to great lengths to appeal and no matter what clothes/cologne/shoes you wear, you know you are going home alone? In a word, have you ever felt unsexy?

The sexy feeling I will leave up to the media to resolve as they seem to have umpteen thousand suggestions. I know. I read Cosmopolitan and the "HOT" issue made me wonder and that is why I ask you.

Have you ever felt "unsexy"?

For my part, I must admit I have. In my younger years, there have been several occasions when I knew I stood a much better chance with the twelve in the fridge than with the dozen girls that populated the gatherings I went to. I have no idea what these girls were looking for in "hook-up's" but it wasn't me, no matter what shoes I wore. (Boots, honestly.)

I have felt unsexy when I looked in bathroom mirrors. I have felt unsexy at job interviews. I have felt unsexy in hotel rooms I didn't rent. I have felt unsexy when staring a judge in the face.

The worst was when I finally convinced someone to give me a roll in the hay. We were in a pine forrest and she called my name with a soft guttural groan. I was at a loss, as no one had ever said "yes" before and I hadn't a clue how to continue from there. Everyone else had dismissed me with a simple "Not on your life Jack," and we had moved on from there. This one wanted me too!?!

I fumbled. I stammered. I gave her my best. When it came right down to it though, I was a no-show. Don't get me wrong, she went home singing to her Mother, but there is something to be said for stage fright. The time came and I couldn't put lead in my pencil.

I only think of this now as I will be paddling my way past the tree farm she looked after for the neighbor's in a week or so.

It makes no difference. I was just curious if I was the only human being to feel unsexy.

Doc

P.S.- Her friend that owned the tree farm is the other story...

For when I can't think of anything else...

Ignore the lyrics totally, as only the mastery of the musicians should be heard in this.

Happy Friday my dears and know that I'm thinking of you,
Doc

Vignettes: Saxy Music

Riley finds a calender with classic cars and hot rods on it in the school parking lot and they are looking at it as I'm driving them to Grandma's.

Lucy: That's a sexy car!

Riley: Don't say that word! I don't like that word.

Lucy: What? All I said was that's a sexy car.

Riley: You don't even know what that word means.

Lucy: Sure I do. Just like the music we are listening to. It's sexy music.

Riley: No it's not!

Lucy: Sure it is. It's got a sax in it.

Riley: A saxophone?

Lucy: Yeah.

Riley: Well, yeah. I guess it is saxy music.

Lucy: See, I told you.

I'm driving and trying not to swerve as I'm laughing so hard to myself.

Doc

Some Notes On Children

Don't. Just don't.

I know, it sounds good at the time. Your lover is looking at you with that "come hither" stare and that glass of wine you had with dinner is really going right to your head. You know in your heart of hearts that this is how YOU came to be in this world, so why not give it a go yourself? You are simply fulfilling the one job that nature asks of you: reproduce. Besides, this could be fun. Kids are fun right? YOU were a fun kid, so you should have fun kids. It's in the genes. Not to mention you have a chance of passing along the family name.

Don't buy it for a second. Take a cold shower, have some coffee and pet the cat. By doing this you will have saved yourself thousands of dollars and forty plus years of grief.

People will lie to you and tell you how great kids are. Pay close attention. The people who tell you this either don't have them and want them, or they have some and look like a half crazed homeless person who should never reproduce.

I know. I have some.

Sure, they are the light of my life and I love them dearly. Since they came into this world I've never been apart from them for more than a day or two, and my mind is always thinking about them when they aren't in plain sight. I worry about them all the damn time. Are they eating well? Should I start teaching them fractions now? Am I a bad parent because they had two Popsicles instead of the broccoli I fixed? Why am I buying beer when this money should be putting them through college? How in the hell am I going to pay for two weddings? Is the neighbor kid getting frisky with my girls? My God, I hope they aren't playing in the knife drawer or drinking bleach!

Even after they are adults the worry never ends. Is their new boyfriend good enough? Are they struggling to pay the bills? Are they having unprotected sex? You don't think they are on drugs do you? That skirt is too short and that top is much too revealing. How can you listen to this crap you call music? Wear your seatbelt or you will die like Uncle Dave. Please Dear Lord, let them get this job! Oh no! The news said there is a fire/explosion/shooting in their neighborhood. Please let them be alright!

Save yourself the worry. Buy a cat.

Unless you and your spouse have just too much love in your hearts for the two of you.

Kids are great.

Doc

Beer Review: Great Lakes Brewing Company; Edmund Fitzgerald

Since I just learned that life is too short to drink cheap beer all the time, I ponied up a little extra cash for some Edmund Fitzgerald porter from the Great Lakes Brewing Company and boy am I glad I did! It is almost better than sex! Almost.

Where do I begin? The taste is astounding and their website describes it as, "A complex, roasty porter with a bittersweet, chocolate-coffee taste and bold hop presence," and while that sums it up pretty well, the key word here is "complex". There are nuances to the flavor that are beyond this poor writer's ability to quantify, and each sip is a new reward in the art of a truly great beer.

It was my intention to just have one or two and stretch the beer tasting to a couple of sittings so I could really make this review as complete as I could, but it was just too delicious and I drank all six.

Not only do the fine folks at Great Lakes Brewing make a fine beer, but you have to admire their commitment to the environment through their philosophy of the "Triple Bottom Line". While I'm not certain how widespread their distribution is or it's availability in your area, I would highly recommend seeking it out. At some point in the future, you will be able to order it online.

This is the kind of beer you would want to share with loved ones and very good friends, and would make a great gift for the beer lover in your life, provided you are unlike me and don't drink it all yourself. (Flannery got one sip) I hope you can get your hands on some, and I am really looking forward to reviewing more Great Lakes beer.

Cheers,
Doc

***

Next Up: three beers from the brewery Magic Hat from South Burlington Vermont.

Gentlemen, Let's Be Honest...

While this isn't really my sort of music, I whole-heartedly agree with the sentiment.

Doc

Make Sure You Have Optical On Your Insurance!

Either that, or buy one of these cars and sit a little closer to the middle.

Doc

The Tangled Webs We Weave - Part VII

I guess it's ritual now, every Sunday night there is a little rave-party with my name on it going on down in the Flats. I am the entertainment.

Bookbag is not good. He tells me he is "together" with his girlfriend. He's had a bad history with marraige, so he's not looking to do that again. He recently thought about ending the relationship but decided against it because of the bad history and he doesn't want to give up on another one. He says she's young (26) and sometimes handles things like a younger person.

Ooooooh yeah. She has no clue. She says things in front of me she probably shouldn't be saying, in part because she's drunk, in part because I make her feel comfortable talking to me, in part because I also make her nervous. She knows I'm moving in on her man and am quite capable of taking him, I see it in the way she behaves when I'm around. Well, I took what she said, what he said and put it with what I already know and this is what I've discovered:

Of course Bookbag loves her, right now she's his meal ticket. He can't leave her because he has no way to support himself; I don't know that he would even have a place to go. If he's telling me the truth, he's also got it in his head that settling for what he has is more important than making an already bad track record look worse. He's going to stick this out partly because he wants to but mostly because he has to.

My mother did that once; stayed in a dysfunctional relationship with a man who beat us both for ten years because she didn't like the idea of chalking up two divorces. Real smart. My stepfather finally filed for divorce when he got himself a girlfriend.

And here's Bookbag gonna get fucked too. Big-time.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...poor Bookbag, I've got his number and hers.

Marrying him is important to her and his inability to go along with that annoys her enough she has no problem making it public. Bookbag was adamant to me about not getting married again, having done it twice and ending badly, and I believe him. She's eventually gonna get tired of being the girlfriend and she's gonna push him to put a ring on her finger, it's already starting to happen. He might even get an ultimatum. O.U.C.H.

Or he might get trapped, and that's worse. One of our fellow regulars at the Sunday night club/rave brought her boyfriend's dog to the party last night. I happened to be standing by the girlfriend and made the comment "Great. I'm such a dog person, I won't be able to pay attention to the hot guys anymore because I'll be too busy playing with the dog. This happens every time."

She laughed. "Oh yeah, puppies and babies. I just get all giggly over them."

"Oh, okay, for me it's just the dogs, but it's still retarded."

Laughs again. "Oh, I'm like that with babies, too. I'm starting to get a little older and that stuff is starting to kick in, ya know, haha."

Yeah, I know all about that. So does my birth control. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

And wait till Bookbag finds out. He seems so thrilled about the possibility of marraige, I'm sure he's gonna love this....

He better be careful, because as soon as she figures out she's gonna lose him, she could end up pregnant, because women are manipulative like that. If I haven't given up on him by then, I sure as fuck will when that happens....

I still don't know what he's thinking of me and hopefully that part will come out next. I'm not even sure I can call him a friend, really. Can we be friends with this thing hanging over our heads? How long until it's my turn to get taken advantage of, will I be a friend then?

Speaking of friends, it seems the smartest idea for me would be to stop going Sunday nights, but I can't. I'm making new friends there all the time, and the people with whom I was at acquaintance-level with before this started, I am getting closer and closer to. We spend every Sunday night together now, and we already did adore each other, but now we're becoming closer simply by location. I can't lose that, I love that, it's what makes my life so damned important. I can't just stop because of Bookbag.

The Tangled Webs We Weave-Part IV

Since apparently everyone's okay with me talking about myself too much...

I got to Jim's a bit late, which set me back timewise and I ended up not getting to the club until past midnight. That's okay, I figured, maybe Chris will have his beer goggles on and see an angel walking in the door as I enter.

I looked as good as I can look these days, of course my perfect hair and my perfect legs being my saving grace for all the other stuff that sucks, so I made sure I was outfitted to show them both off. Fabulous job, I looked way cute.

I walked down a very busy W. 9th St. toward the club and see the whole lot of the friends sitting outside smoking. I got the "Norm!" welcome as I got closer to the bar. I love it; it makes me feel like I have groupies...

Chris ended the conversation he was having to come over and say hello to me and gave me a fabulous hug. Not long after, I heard someone refer to Rachel as his girlfriend, so what I thought was correct. I don't know how long, I have no details of any kind.

Rachel happens to be very cool, I got to talk to her a bit last night and she's a fun girl. That being said, I stayed away from any kind of real advance on Chris. I just don't have it in me to be that disrespectful, regardless of how badly I want him.

There was about six of us left outside the club about half-an-hour after closing. People were arranging rides, etc. and Chris and Rachel were both there, too. I had had plenty to drink....plenty. I was standing around bullshitting with Rachel and Terry, the only black man in Cleveland with a mohawk. Rachel finally got tired of standing around and took the keys from Chris and said she was going out to the car to wait for him. This would be my only shot at getting anything on the table tonight, so I stuck around with Chris and the others still left.

And of course I hold little back because
a) I've been drinking
b) I have no problem approaching this guy...and I'm accustommed to being afraid. I freak myself out when I become flirtatious because I never believe I have it in me.

And away I went with all kinds of rotten thoughts.

Chris: "I'm definitely not Republican, but I''m not Democrat, either. I go with independent, I don't want to be classified as one or the other, I want to make my decisions of my own opinions."
Gennifer: "Wow...I'm so sorry you have a girlfriend."

Chris: "I'm going around the corner of teh building, I'll be right back. If I don't pee like, right now..."
Gennifer: "Can I watch?"
(that must have been the alcohol talking, I don't know what the fuck I was thinking there!!)


Chris: "I'm 34 years old-"
Gennifer: "Are you sure? Your MySpace page says 33."
Chris: "It does? You've seen it?"
Gennifer: "Yes, it says 33. You're lying on your profile, dude..."

The first hug goodbye, he damn near tackled me, so I wrapped one of my legs around him and hung on and he LET ME.

The second hug goodbye he grabbed me and picked me up in the air and then set me back down. I couldn't believe he actually got my ass off the ground. If you saw how skinny he is and how beefcake I am...laws of gravity say that shouldn't have happened. I hope I didn't break his back or anything....shit.

And then I left, mostly satisfied with what little I got from him, hoping that he's at least starting to "get the message" from me. Now that I have officially determined Rachel is his girlfriend, the game plan has officially changed, I can't just "go after" him. I have to "steal" him fair and square, meaning I can't "pursue" him, I just have to be Gennifer and hope that a friendship will someday become more, and be prepared that it doesn't....

I will eventually gain the courage to flat-out tell him that I like him. I have to tell him. I like him too much not to. I need to speak my mind too much not to...if I don't eventually tell him. I might explode and that will DEFINITELY come out badly. I just cannot keep my mouth shut on something I am this affected by....

So it ends up I go back to Jim's party after the club...and Richard is there. Fantastic. Richard is the guy everybody says is crazy about me but I couldn't give him the time of day. And because everybody's rolling and unusually affectionate, I spend some of the rest of the night with Richard crawling all over me and trying to get cute with me in the way a child would.

I start the night with my leg wrapped around Chris and I end the night with Richard in my face. It's like God thinks he's being funny....

So I went to sleep around 8:00 a.m. and woke up this afternoon around 4 and went to Mandy's for her cookout at her new house. Mandy is the one who, along with our friend Anna, has had some kind of "thing" going with Kellen, the guy who was supposed to cause me problems at the Organ Grinder's show by hitting on me in front of Mandy, who secretly wants him, but because I was too busy working he never had the chance. Well, he's there at the party, and he pulls me aside and says "Come get me when you go to the car, I'll go smoke with you. Don't say anything to Mandy, though, she don't want me doing it."

I said "okay" and just laugh. She's not his girlfriend or his Momma, but it's her call whether or not he smokes pot? Please....

So I bring Kellen out to the car with me and five minutes pass before Mandy figures it out and starts walking out to my car. Kellen had hit the bowl three times. I saw her coming in my rearview, so I told Kellen to keep cool and I'd tell her he was just getting a contact buzz. She asked him and me both if he smoked any and we both said no, and Kellen got out of the car. I sat there by myself just laughing. People are idiots.

The thing Mandy doesn't know is what Kellen and I talked about it the car. He told me he tried to call me twice and got what he thought was the wrong number, but was actually my work number. I swear he had my home number, but I guess not. He told me he had wanted to call and invite me out for a few beers while Mandy was on vacation but didn't know how to reach me and I never called him. All this time, I've had his number but figured he just wasn't calling me because he didn't want to. When he said he was waiting for me to call him, I told him I thought he would call me. Apparently he did, so he grabbed his cell phone and I gave him my number at home and all communication problems have now been resolved. As soon as he entered my number into his phone, I looked up and saw Mandy heading toward us in the rearview....

So what the fuck am I supposed to make of all that?

The only thing I can say about this whole mess is that I was surrounded by wonderful friends the whole night and through today and despite the good feelings I got from Chris, the best parts of it all came from my friends....

Cake Anyone?

In Honor of Big Orange

Welcome to Flannery's Entertainment Beat, a day late and a dollar short. In honor of Big Orange's Vasectomy, of which I can never hear enough, I've decided to post this little Japanese game show, where if you say the tongue twister wrong, you get nailed in the nuts. Enjoy your recovery, BO, and hang on to your application for a month or two, at least until you can say Kaeru pyoko-pyokomi pyoko-pyokoawasete pyoko-pyoko mu pyoko-pyoko five times fast.

Cheers!

Caption This Photo and Win Big Prizes!

"No Phil, as your Doctor, I can safely say your genital warts are gone."
"I don't care what your press credentials say, I'm not speaking into your microphone!"
"So this is how you get the bannister so shiny. I just thought it was pledge!"
"This is not how you dress for a 'Fancy Dress' Ball Dave!"

or whatever you can think of. I came across this photo while searching for Friday's Tastefully Nude and I just knew there had to be a caption contest as well. Give it a go. Best caption wins a sticker book and a new bottle opener/key chain.

Doc

My Imaginary Girlfriend, part 2

Liza Minnelli.

I'm ashamed to admit that my ultimate fantasy is to be caught in a four-way with Liza Minnelli, Sophia Loren,
and Tina Turner sandwich! Yum, yum, yummy, yum, yum!
Doc.

My Imaginary Girlfriend

Theda Bara, The Original "VAMP".

Now, Dear and Gentle Reader, tell me that this "chick" ain't hot! Damn! Those piercing eyes, the vacant stare of raw sexuality, the great rack, Hell, she even poses with bones! MEOW! This bitch has got everything! And if I was alive 80 sum odd years ago, I would have found her and made sweet, sweet love to her, and never called her agian. (I would have sent pornographic telegrams for years though.)

Doc