Last night I was thinking about this blog, and some of the articles I was interested in writing as well as discussing with my readers. All of us have been touched by religion at some point in our lives, either directly or indirectly. Personally my experience with religion was a very direct, hands-on experience.
Growing up as a Jehovah’s Witness was hard enough. Growing up while being gay, and a Jehovah’s Witness was even harder. Growing up as a gay, full-time minister, of Jehovah’s Witnesses, well that was memorable to say the least.
I remember sleepless nights, praying, no, crying to God begging him to please make me well. I just wanted to please him! On the other end you’re told that if you go out into “the world” it will “eat you up and spit you out”. You’re facing fear from all directions, internally, and externally.
Though research has shown that raising children in a religious family environment can prevent teen pregnancy, and preserve virginity until 18 years of age; what are the ramifications? Perhaps a higher likelihood of being influenced by fear, self deprecation, mistrust, hate (oddly enough), and insecurities, just to name a few.
I sometimes wonder why I have made some of the choices I have made in my life. Undoubtedly one of my influences has been religion. What’s yours?
How many times have you heard the phrase, “sex sells?” People often state that sex can help companies sell more of their products. It doesn’t matter what the product is. It can be anything — ranging from clothing to food to movies. It’s a commonly known fact, but is it true?
Results from recent research seem to debunk this “fact,” making it possibly one of the most widely-believed myths. At least for movies, that is. According to a study conducted recently by “Sex Doesn’t Sell — nor Impress! Content, Box Office, Critics, and Awards in Mainstream Cinema,” nudity and explicit sex scenes don’t translate to major success for films. Researchers examined more than 900 movies released between 2001 and 2005, and the results were more than surprising. Sex failed to positively affect a film’s popularity among viewers and critics. Furthermore, it didn’t guarantee box office success.
The results held true both for domestic and international films. Even in R movies, the research showed that less sex and nudity fared better. None of the top-grossing films during the four-year study contained graphic sex. Rather, most included only minor scenes of sexual situations and/or nudity.
I’m not a fan of selling “sex,” so these findings are refreshing to me. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one who doesn’t want to watch graphic sexual scenes or nudity. It’s simply not necessary in order to make a good movie. Family-friendly films are much more appealing. Apparently, others agree, and the box office numbers prove it.
It was a huge day for me yesterday. Even being kicked off of Facebook couldn’t bring me down. The reason is simple, my sexless streak is over (cue the music). That is right Ryan and I went all the way. Not only that, but I also had my first orgasm without the aid of a vibrator during sex. I guess you want all the details don’t you? My readers can be so naughty sometimes.
I guess it started after my Facebook account got disabled. That sucked big time and there are so many people who I was friends with that I spoke to all the time and now I can’t find them. So if you were linked to me before, please make sure you click on my badge on the side and add me as a friend. I decided that promoting my blog, may not have been the best thing to do, especially with the graphic pictures I was putting up.
So my new account is up and rolling, I still want to be able to communicate with everyone through facebook. I also have a new email address which is on my info page. However if you could email me at , that will be my main email address. So I was really depressed after that whole affair, I called up Ryan and he came on over. I told him we should go out, so we went to the mall. I took him into Victoria’s Secret (armed with a Christmas gift card) and told him to find something sexy for me. It didn’t take long, he found a very hot pink teddy. I went to try it on, even though I knew it would fit, and modeled it for him. He was totally turned on by it, so I got dressed back up and paid for the teddy.
We were set to leave, when I had a hot idea for him. I told him to go to the bathroom and put on the teddy. So he went in and put on the teddy and snapped a phone picture of it for me. He put his bra and panties in the VS bag and gave it to me. I went into the bathroom and put on what he was wearing. So feeling very naughty I told him we should go to his house, but I told him I had to stop at Target. I told him to wait in the car while I went inside. I bought a box of condoms, I knew I was going to fuck him last night.
We got back to his house, and only his sister was home, but she was on the other side of the house. We went up to his room and turned on the TV so that we wouldn’t be heard. I told him to strip, he complied and seeing him in that teddy just had me turned on so much. I told him to take off my clothes but to leave the panties on. He did as he was told and I laid down on the bed. I asked him if he had ever given oral. He told me no, which I kind of figured. So I told him to get on his knees and kiss up my thigh until he got to my lips, those kisses were unbelievable, they gave me goosebumps. He got to my lips and I told him to run his tongue up and down them without entering me. When I felt he was comfortable, I spread my lips and pointed to a location right next to my clit and told him to lick where my finger is. To do it slowly and only increase the speed when I tell him to. I told him this is where I am to be licked so that he should remember that. He did as he was told and was just doing a fantastic job. Within about 3 minutes, I could tell I was going to cum soon, so I told him to slowly increase the speed. My hands were running through his hair and I was moaning so much I had to put a pillow over my mouth. He seemed to be reading my mind because as I wanted more he gave me more until I finally arched my back and came. He held my hips and kept licking. I don’t know how long I was cumming, but it was a while and I had to push him off me I came so hard.
I pulled him up and kissed him and just laid on his chest. I looked up at him and told him he did unbelievably well. He told me he didn’t want to stop that he loved licking me and the taste of me. That was enough for me, I told him to lay on his back and to close his eyes. I told him not to open until I said so. I rubbed him through the teddy and when he was hard I pulled him out of the teddy and put him in my mouth. I sucked him for just about a minute, enough to get him ready for me and rolled a condom over his cock. I climbed on top of him and lowered my self on him and god did that feel incredible. I told him to relax and to let me do the work and if he had to cum, to just cum. Slowly I worked up and down him, I told him to play with my ass, he and I got into a good rhythm and I asked him if he was close to cumming, he told me that he could hold it for as long as I wanted. I leaned down so that my chest was on his and I looked at him and told him to slide a finger into my ass, and to move it in and out as I rode him. He did as he was told and I increased my rocking on him, I started to feel myself cumming so I moved faster and faster, the feeling of his finger in my ass and me rocking on top of him was too much, I felt myself tighten on him grabbed a pillow and screamed into it as my body shook. He told me he was cumming and then I felt him release and I continued to squeeze him until he finished cumming.
I slumped over him and just laid there for a few minutes. He pulled out of me and we were both amazed at how much was in the condom. He got rid of it and I told him to put something cute on to sleep with. He picked one of my baby dolls that I had lent him, and I put on the teddy he was wearing. I called my mom and told her I was spending the night at Ryan’s. She told me OK but to be safe. I told her she didn’t have to worry (I’m a good girl I don’t lie). We went to bed at about 9:30. Around 4 in the morning we were both up, so I took him in my mouth and got him good and hard. I then got on all fours and told him to take me doggy style. He rolled on another condom and slid the crotch of the teddy aside and entered me in one stroke.
He was a natural, his strokes were very deep and without even asking, he slid a finger inside my butt, I felt that and came hard, he kept on fucking me, I told him to tell me when he was going to cum, that I wanted it in my mouth. Harder and harder he entered me and I was ready to cum again when he told me he was close to cumming. I told him to pull out, I spun around tore off the condom and wrapped my lips around him, about two seconds later he emptied himself inside me. I swallowed some, but kept some in my mouth. I pulled him to me and kissed him, pushing his juice into his mouth, then frenching him as we both swallowed.
I asked him how he liked the taste, he said he loved it and wanted us to do it more like that. I smiled and told him that if he was a good boy he would get his wish. After that we went back to sleep. We woke up around 6, took a shower got dressed and he drove me back to my house. Then I wrote this and got him hard all over again. I’ll tell you more later.
Like a magician’s trick, the shortest route to any pussy is a straight line called LOVE. Women are inherently oxytocin-junkies, and men know that. Deliver the right dose of the drug and one can have privileged and unlimited access to that love-cave. Men are inherently inventive, and women don’t know that. It only took one male brain to invent the concept of love, and many brains to replicate it, and suddenly it’s the most over-used and abused word in the English dictionary.
Women are not just oxytocin-junkies. They are specific in their need, which makes them monogamous by design. They respond best to that one particular dosage by that one particular individual, and no one else. They resonate when in close contact with that one specific male reserved for them in that grand scheme of things called the universe. I like to call this response an oxytocin-signature. It is truly an exact science.
In contrast, the delivery mechanism is an exact artform. Men are like chameleons, they tailor words and behaviours to try to find some resonance and counterpoint in the target female. Target is a cold and calculating word, I know, but it reflects the nature of men. Men are hunters by ancestry and polygamous by natural selection, that makes men andrenaline-junkies. Women happen to fulfill both our need for the hunt and for sex, a conveniently evolved target.
Love is a false notion and fashioned to be a hunting tool. There is no honour in any hunt, men will even kill hamsters if the need arises. So they will lie to get under your skirt, make no mistake about that.
As if that isn’t enough, the love-notion is even more powerful than you can imagine.
Other than the positive oxytocin-response it can generate, love makes consequences like an unwanted pregnancy more tolerable for the woman. Women want to be liberated, they want to be free and have rampant non-consequential sex like men. But they can’t, sex has much more consequences for a woman than for a man, which make complete sexual liberation nearly impossible for the poor girl. So in steps love, to offer some semblance of responsibility and offer a ready excuse to lighten the impact of any consequence. BECAUSE HE LOVES ME are words uttered for solace and comfort. Men know that, and using it helps break down that last fear frontier all women possess. If men are Pipe Pipers, then love is the tune they play ruthlessly.
I cannot play any musical instruments, so love is a four-letter word I rarely use. More often than desirable, I have a proclivity to use another popular four-letter word.
It is not easy for you and your ex boyfriend to get back after a breakup. However, there are a few tips that you can follow to have him back again. So many people don’t succeed in winning their ex back. It’s not really our fault. No one ever handed us an instruction book when we first started dating that taught us how to handle a breakup. Much less, how to get someone back after a breakup.. If you want your ex boyfriend back then these 5 simple steps should help achieve your goal:
1.The first tip which will help you and your ex boyfriend to get back is to get your head straight. You need to get rid of the negative thoughts. You have to stop feeling sorry for yourself. You have to be willing to be strong.
Don’t let your emotion and especially depression keep you down. You can’t achieve a goal, if you can’t keep your emotions in check and your mind clear. Negative thoughts are destructive behavior.
2.Accept that the relationship in its prior form is over. All the wishing in the world isn’t going to allow you to go back in time and change the way things happened. You can’t let your mind keep wandering into the past.
Focus on what is going on now. If you realize that the relationship of the past wasn’t perfect you’re heading in the right direction and laying the foundation for you and your ex boyfriend to get back. Remember you are most likely glossing over all the bad stuff that happened. Think about this; the relationship didn’t get broke in a day. Don’t expect to be able to fix it in a day either.
3.Don’t pester your ex boyfriend. Guys just don’t like it when girls become obsessive about them. Especially ex boyfriends. You may want to seek comfort by hearing his voice or seeing his face, but if you really want him back, you must back off for a while. Don’t continuously call him, text message him, email him, or go to his place or where he hangs out just to see him. Give him time to realize he may have made a mistake. He may begin to actually miss you. If you blow it, you may have a tougher time getting him back.
4.Become an object of desire. If you can, get some new makeup. Get some new clothes. Get a new hairstyle. If you’ve picked up a few pounds, start exercising and eating healthy. When you look good on the outside, you’re going to start feeling better about yourself on the inside. By feeling good on the inside you will be confident and happy. When you’re confident and happy, you will project this image to others. You will become an object of desire to men. This includes your ex boyfriend.
5.Take it slow. If you followed steps 1-4 your ex boyfriend at some point will probably get in touch with you. Imagine his surprise when he sees the “new” you from step 4. He will probably be sorry that he broke up with you. Keep your physical contact with him to a minimum, if you do see him.
Seeing you looking your best and seeing that you’ve become confident and happy will make him desire you. If you limit your physical contact with him, this will drive him crazy. It will probably help to ensure that you don’t just jump back into a relationship only to breakup a short time later.
These tips may not be easy for you to do at first. You may want to give in and call him or see him, but you have to resist the temptation. These tips will help you and your ex boyfriend to get back after a breakup.
Memories can sometimes fade away so fast, leaving behind only the faint wisps of what they used to be.
It astounds me with how fast the time passes us by, with us being caught in a stasis, dazed and in shock. Plans, goals, and hopes almost never play out how we intended them to, yet why do we still bother coming up with yet another optimistic scenario?
***
It was 1991, we were both 7. You were such a tomboyish kid, always with your face smeared with dirt. A mere waif of a girl, in climbing trees and getting stung by bees just like me. I forget how many nights we would sit under the porch light, singing and laughing, pointing out the features of the moon, remarking how the tall tales our mothers told us were really true about that man whose wife urinated on his precious magic herb, and ended up floating away with it to the moon. Our own moon-man, so evident in the dark contours of the waxing sphere above our heads. Caught up in imagination, I think we didn’t notice our hands over each others’ until we pulled away, cheeks burning crimson.
Our first innocent kiss. A childish thing really; a peck just to see how it felt like, before us both making gagging noises and silly faces. But those silly faces were always followed by smiles that remind me of a more innocent time.
***
1995. Both 11 now. You moved away, and for a child, I never remembered being so sad and lonely than I felt then. It wasn’t too far away, but we saw each other less. Each time we were together again though, it was like nothing had changed. The smiles and laughter came out again, as naturally as a bird just knows how to fly.
We made a promise one night, pricking our fingers and writing in blood. “I … when I grow up, will marry …” Undersigned. Pinky swear.
***
A few years later, we were both 13. We shared our moments together, guarding our time with muted jealousy. Those whimsical nights of making out and me running my hand along your back, as you curled up against me, purring with happiness like a cat does next to a warm spot. You were growing up to be quite a beautiful girl; and contrasting with my awkward lanky height gain.
Under the moonlight where we were comfortable, I’d sing to you those old songs that my mother used to play on the little Sony radio:
“The sunlight still radiates into the evening, letting the wind begin its search.
For the soft sound of your footprints have passed here many times before.
The lyrics of a wistful song emits from sorrowful fingers,
Leaving behind a dead soul lasting a thousand years.
The fragile years, though with age, are still ardent within the color of your eyes.”
And you’d smile as you pressed up against me, your warmth spreading over me as we smiled in the darkness.
***
When I was 15, I remember my heartbreak as found out you had a boyfriend. True, I had been running the field, perhaps unfairly to you, but you were more than a friend to me. It’s the sense of loss that makes me realize that we should’ve could’ve. Even after these years, I still feel it. How you were one of the few girls that made me blush like a total dummy when you were around me.
I coped with it the way I trained myself to, by withdrawing and shutting down. And I was done.
I pushed hard to fill the void that accompanied your leaving. Meeting new women, forming secret liaisons, foolish I know. And I thought I became a better man. Still the years passed us by.
***
Your tears began falling on my bare shoulder, soaking my plain white tank top. It was Summer of 2001, and we were both 17. The beating sun drained us with heat radiating off the concrete sidewalk where we laid. I pushed you away slightly, holding you an arm’s length away. You looked so oddly perplexed, even with the smeared mascara streaming down your face. In that moment, we somehow found the strength to laugh again as you fell back onto me, your lips feeling just as soft as I had remembered.
No, he was bad for you. I regretted not being able to be there to catch your fall. You see, I’m one of those sentimental guys, for better or for worse. My memories run deep and strong. And I didn’t want to lose you again.
You grabbed my hand, just like you used to when we were children, and led me back into the house. The world melted around us, fading into white noise as we made feverish love, pressed against that tattered throw over you’ve jealously guarded for years now. And for a moment, time seemed to freeze around us and for once, what we were seemed so natural. But you were just a chrysalis, patient, waiting to fully open.
In time, we parted again. You were that bohemian, who moved along life’s flow like the froth riding the wave’s edge. And all I could do was watch from afar.
***
The years passed us again, and once more we were in relationships. Old memories are meant to be forgotten, though I may be just really terrible at it. Soon we were both in college, me heading north to the Bay, while your legs took you across the country to Boston. We’d keep in touch, and I remember how I’d love to hear your soft laughter on the other end of the phone. We’d share memories, experiences, life. Our hearts were chained across the nation, transmuted through the airwaves, and I was content. I’m not sure if you understand after all these years how much your friendship meant to me, but it really did.
Through our own shaky relationships and experiences, we were still united as one. It’s one of those odd occurrences, but for me, it’s surreal.
Each summer, we met again, and laugh under the moon just like old times. I’d trace my finger along the Milky Way, catching each falling star and giving it to you with wholehearted sincerity. When we were together, my heart rested easy again. It was this feeling of peace that I still cherish and hold close.
But as quickly as you came, you were gone again.
***
After college, we would again keep in contact. We shared thoughts on our travels that work brought us to. Pictures from me backpacking in Europe, to your thoughts on conquering Mt. Fuji. The dots were connected slowly, and it painted a picture of our unique relationship. Together, we had conquered the world. Whenever our paths pushed us back together, we’d make love like how we used to. It was such a beautiful feeling.
One day, I received an email from you. I was in Koh Samui, Thailand, and you were in Rome, Italy. It was a simple message. “Come see me at my wedding J!” And again, I felt the pangs of guilt throttle me. There’s this odd feeling, when I’ve felt that I’ve lost the game. There are just no more dice to roll, or rather, my luck had run out along with my stacks of chips.
***
We saw each other again before your wedding. I was 23 then. You embraced me with such warmth, though inside, I felt only coldness. The flame was dying, though it still flickered, gasping for a breath of air.
Yet I could only hold you away from me again. And with the odd look on your face again, you’d quietly watch me. I whispered to you our old song:
“The violet clouds are still blanket the sky, letting the leaves daydream.
Leaves that weep upon your eyelashes, with your sorrow seeping from your lips.
And the evening spreads through the mountaintops over us,
Dulling this love; causing these tired heels into sadness.
And yet, there are only feelings of regret left to cover these streets.”
And I could see the tears welling up behind your long lashes, as you pulled me closer. “J, I’m finally happy. Please try to understand me.” I could only tell you softly that now, you were that butterfly that you always wanted to be. Gone was your awkwardness girlishness; in its place was a beautiful young woman. And though I had to fight back my sorrow, I had to let you go as you twisted your fingers one last time into mine.
***
You were so beautiful at your wedding, your flowing hair gently blowing in the beach breeze under your veil. It was the perfect fairy-tale come true for you. And on that day, you were the princess.
As I walked away, I wiped the sweat from my brow while deep in thought.
Oooh Fuck.
Is there anything like “emotional cheating”? In that case, I think i’ve done it… Am I even allowed to cheat? Can I even call me and B a couple since we just became it yesterday, (still, for the fourth time in one year) does it mean I dont love him? Well, ofcourse I know I don’t love him but…
It was when I was talking to D-W. Ofcourse, he’s the one pulling the other side of my heart, and he made me jealous by saying “A cute girl just came in” (He’s working at the reception, and was on msn on cell). We started discussing and I said:
“Actually, D**** I like you, a lot.”
After that there was just tons of hearts and… I don’t know, is that cheating? Should I tell B? At least I’ve hold myself from physical cheating, I’ve always hated relationships. When I was with J-H it lasted week since I cheated with O-M, It was two years ago and I blame it on that I was young and stupid. But I get this… claustrophobic feeling to be someone elses. That’s why I haven’t got any long relationships in my bagage. At least this is what i’m telling myself. If I dig deeper i’m sure i’ll find a more logic soulution that includes childhood and blablabla.
B just texted me and he’s at a friends house. Wow, he has friends. And I thought his life was just engines and working without social life. When he gets home, we’re gonna look for a sextoy. He was gonna send me one but apparently he regret it since I said i’d kill him if he did. Instead, we’re gonna pick one together today. Don’t know what I was thinking about when I said it to him, maybe captured by the moment?
Boogie-Breaker. That’s the one he want me to buy, since “It sooooo alike his own”.
I found a interesting site a few minutes ago. The site is about, like you can see, the sex differences between what sex people have that buy different books.
On the site, that only contained bestselling books, were it six books there the readers were more than 80% men. Three of these books were about economy, while the remaining once were about sport, food and a how to guide about handling zombies.
It were also ten books that had more than 80% women readers. Four of these books was the Twilight books, two was other love books and the remaining books were also in one way or an other about relations between humans. All the books had also in common that they contained secrets.
So the conclusion that this site make possible to draw is that men seem to prefer reality with facts and “how-tos”, while women seem to prefer fiction with love and secrets.
Interesting fact that show the sex differences in the modern society. Because I believe in that the most gender differences is because of the environment, the nurture.
So is it going in the right direction, will it soon be no differences between the sexes, or is it going in the wrong direction?
I don’t know, because I don’t know what people read before, but knowing one of two necessary facts is always better than knowing nothing. So it is a good site and I hope it live on.
I also want to say, before I end this post, that the modern society is interesting there even a statistic site like these one contained links to the commercial site amazon.com, money gets more and more important each day.
They are the perfect couple. The couple which gets their weddings photographed in magazines, and all the people around the world look at them and wish for what they have. Their story is the continuation of every cheesy American teenage movie, the continuation you just do not see. They are the sweet country girl and the hard-working city boy. They are the ugly-but-with-potential artsy-fartsy girl and the school leading goal scorer. They are the sexy model couple; they come packaged and delivered to you in every commercial, every movie, every magazine, and now, in this story.
They’ve been together since they were 16, and six years have passed, neither of them looking at another person, finding the whole universe inside each other’s eyes. You’d think they’d have names like, Romeo and Juliet, Khalil and Dumma, Kays and Leila, Tristan and Iseult etc. They got engaged, they got married, their families rejoicing by their children’s perfect all-loving relationship, their light love, initiated like a well structured symphony, like old Arabic poetry, perfect meter and perfect rhyme. Their wedding was full of smiles and bright lights, full of water and cake and perfect order and timing: three hundred people were invited, three hundred people attended; all the food was eaten and no one felt the need for more; it started at 8 and was done at the stroke of midnight. The bride wore her ten-thousand dollar snow-white floor height, sleeveless, silk dress; the best hair and make-up designers ornamented her like Nefertiti. The groom wore his double-breasted shawl-collared tuxedo, a cotton shirt and a silk bow tie, all from Ralph Lauren, covering a muscle-tuned, all shaven body; his hair, made by a female hair designer, forming a pompadour Elvis Presley-rockabilly hairstyle.
The wedding ended, they entered the limousine while the three hundred attendees waved and threw rice and clapped and hugged each other. The perfect couple drank champagne on their way to their hotel suite and cuddled and kissed of soft kisses and drowned in each other’s love, black tinted glass veiled them from the outside world and the driver who was smoking and drinking red wine as he drove.
Their hotel suite smelled of red roses. Their bathroom smelled of Gardenia. They saw the heart-shaped bed with red covers and white sheets and they hugged each other and released themselves on the bed. They made love and fires of wild incantations sounded from their chests and pumped from their heart. The right amount of blood came out of the precious bride. They drank more champagne and made love once more, merging like hot wax in a lava lamp.
Their limousine driver died in a car crash after dropping them off at the hotel.
The ceremonial order of their lives went on after their honeymoon, after they moved in together into one home, after the husband defecated in the bathroom and the smell of his feces permeated throughout the whole house and even after the wife’s menstrual blood stained the sheets. They made love almost every night. They transformed themselves into twin fires dancing around each other. But heaven is never forever, and bliss is just a blue sky forming in the sleep of a spent storm.
One night, the husband came staggering drunk on wine. The wife did not know what to do. Her husband’s intoxicated breath revolted her. He was shouting and dancing and stripping. He held his wife and started getting excited. His wife felt his erection and tried to move away. His hands wrapped around her like the two serpents enveloping the staff of Hermes. They formed a Caduceus: his hands becoming serpents, his penis the staff, and she the winged bird, spreading her wings, trying to escape. She screamed and slapped him, and he kept smiling and moving his eye brows up and down. Completely naked, he started following her and laughing loudly, she was running away and weeping; he was Dionysus in pursuit of Amethystos. He called her name desperately after he tripped and fell on the ground. She came to him, like a loving wife, kissed him, and they made love, or did they?
The next morning they woke up, both on the bed, his wife’s feet facing his head; they slept in a 69 position, hardly aware of it when they slept, wildly aware of it when they woke up. They were both embarrassed, both felt estranged from their seemingly animalistic position. Did it happen? They looked at each other not daring to ask the question. The husband went to work and the wife went to her mother’s house, both did not speak to each other, both in a hurry to get away from each other.
That night, they had their first fight and for the first time they did not sleep with each other. The fires were not dancing with each other anymore, but fighting each other. They both felt like they were undergoing surgery without anesthesia. The pain of their apparent estrangement from one another created a gap between them, and they only saw this gap after the tightly formed circle of their relationship reverberated as a result of the husband’s intoxicated shouts. The husband saw no solution and neither did the wife. They sat together but apart in the living room, watching a cheesy American movie which gave them a retrospective look at what they once were. Both were disgusted by the dreamy suggestion of the movie that love can succeed the way it is shown. Both were angry.
They exchanged looks that blamed the other, and they both understood them. Magazines on the dinner table showed photos of their wedding, a photo of them smiling at each other, a light in between their faces showing their jovial features, blurring out all the other extravagant faces. But the husband could not look at it anymore, it was a faded dream, he thought, this is not real, none of what he felt was real, it was all how it was supposed to be, how the world wanted them to be. The wife looked in dismay at the memories of the wedding, at her mother’s clown-smile and her father’s proud look.
Their silence could go on no longer, and so they initiated a conversation. They asked each other questions about their day. She asked about his job, he asked about her girlfriend, she asked about the condition of the car, he asked about her daily chores. But beneath all these question, in the tone of their voice, was the important one: What do we do now?
The interrogation continued monotonously, like a game show, both answering correctly, both asking correctly, until, until the wife mentioned the wine. He told her that his boss invited him to a dinner with his buddies; that they went to a pub afterwards; that his boss ordered a hundred-dollar bottle of imported Bacchus wine. He could not refuse the gesture. She rolled her eyes and looked at the ground in disappointment. He looked at the ground in shame. They saw their shadows meet at the head and then they looked at each other, she was angry with disappointment, he was angry with shame. They came towards each other and they slapped each other. She smiled and he smiled. He laughed and she started running away laughing as well. But they knew that their act would be incomplete. They hurried down, went to the nearest liquor store and bought two bottles of red wine. They drank them and they fucked. They drank more and fucked a second time. She no longer thought of her mother and her father; he did not think of how they were supposed to be; they did not think of the wedding and all the distant memories. This is how they are. They were supposed to be making love, but they were fucking, she was drinking wine from the grail which is his mouth, he was pouring wine all over her body, making her white marble skin turn to purple crystals. He fingered her and she played him like a rusty trombone. From anal-strawberry-shakes to S&M fetishes, every night, they indulged in each other’s bodies more severely, the twin fire burning all coyness and all order, squeezing vines and blowing flutes, dancing madly upwards, enjoying their orgiastic existence in an exuberant manner, their inflamed bodies became moving, living statues of their own creation. With every fuck, every night, their love will be eternally reborn and return again from destruction in Dionysian ecstasy.
I have to work tomorrow morning so this blog is going to be uber short and pointless.
Accomplished more than I expected to get done but not as much as I wanted to. I’m sure I was aiming too high anyway. Trying to accomplish things that I’ve been putting off for months now.
Attempted to make an apple crisp. Came out okay.
Attempted to make some iced tea using less bags than I usually use. Came out okay.
Didn’t get a chance to look into my potential Cali trip. That will have to wait until my next non-holiday off.
Emerson said “The world turns on hope,” which speaks to what motivates people, what makes them run. However, respect determines how well the world turns, how effectively social intercourse satisfies those involved, which speaks to what people get out of life among other people.
In the world of couples, setting sex aside for the moment, she has to show him respect before he’ll have respect for her. It’s not her, it’s his nature.
A woman doesn’t like herself very much until she pays the price of fixing herself up to meet her own expectations as the standard. Without doing so, she reflects a lack of self-respect.
Fix up makes her prettier, which builds self-respect. More mirror-time generates more prettiness and more self-respect, and neither can be too much for men.
More self-respect means she’s more easily loved by a man, because his love is founded on respect for her.
If wife will not shine herself up in the a.m., she shouldn’t expect husband to be eager to see her in the p.m.
A woman’s self-respect declines or dies if she doesn’t have standards and live up to them. Without practice doing it in girlhood, singles and married women have trouble accepting men and living with a man. It’s not so much the guys as her weakness in self-discipline trained to override her emotions.
The festive season and the oncoming new year always see you wanting to change things or try something new and sex lives are no different. Sometime I just feel get the feeling that I want something from a sex toy a different feeling or a different experience.
I had one of these moments recently when I just looked for a toy one evening and just felt everything was samey samey. So I rummaged through the sex toy sites looking for a different bit of deviance and stumbled and fell into the pumps section did a bit of research on what they were and what they did and decided this might be the new toy I was looking for. Looking through sites and advice I saw the same words repeated taboo, kinky and deviant….well they had me at taboo! Always wanting to try everything at least once I decided to go for it.
Not knowing what features needed to be best and which ones would be the best I did what I always do in these situations and went for a name. The first name we always look for in these situations is Doc Johnson and we found the Doc Johnson Pucker Up Vibrating Clitoral Pump. It was that fantastic we reviewed its qualities, features and most of all the mind-blowing orgasms you can achieved with this for getmepleasure and you can read this review here. Unfortunately GMP is currently out of stock of this product so the other place we found it in stock was Lovehoney.
If you want to try something different this Christmas we really can’t recommend it enough! If you do take the plunge let us know what you think!
Every time I watch “The Sound of Music” again, I insist that I’m just a sappy dork who loves it, and it’s not actually a good movie. But nope. Wrong. It’s totally fabulous.
I am calling shenanigans on some parts of it, though. I always used to fast forward through “Something Good,” when Maria and the Captain finally get together, because love scenes were gross and made me feel uncomfortable (a scene in “Beethoven’s 2nd” also always had to be fast forwarded). My roommate and I are watching now, and it is reassuring–but also terrifying–to see that even old people still get awkward when talking to whomever it is they like. The Captain says, “You know when I first started loving you? The moment you sat on that ridiculous pine cone.” And Maria says, “I knew the second you blew that silly whistle.” Bull! There’s no way.
But in just about every other way, “The Sound of Music” most definitely deserved its five Oscars. As it happens with most films I’ve seen a million times since childhood, I notice something new each time I see it. I pick up on things that Elsa picks up on all along, and things that she kind of mentions when she and the Captain break off their engagement. I guess it’s easier to notice that sort of thing in a movie when you reach the point of your life that you can hear it in real life. You see every time the Captain does glance at Maria instead of Elsa. It makes you realize how hard acting really is. And how sad and complicated sex and love are.
Dinner last night, out on the city for the office party. Meeting a young colleagues’ sweet, young girlfriend had me dreaming, early on this snowy morning, of girlfriends when I was that age.
I dreamt I visited my old girlfriend’s house. She lived with two roomates, all 3 trainees at our company with expectations of solid careers and stock options.
I returned to this house, a converted barn in a morbid suburban housing development, and discovered a school in it’s place. It was a glimpse into the cultural dislocation that must come with seniority and a world of changing tastes, new architecture.
I had a few intense moments of loss, then turned over to better feel the warmth of two small dogs, a not so small 9 year old, and my wife – all asleep in the predawn of the blizzard of 2009.
I just watched Julie and Julia, with Meryl Streep and Amy Adams. I have to say, I was very impressed and so happy that a film like that, a film that was probably deemed without a market at first, was able to get the green light. Even more impressive is the fact that the same woman who wrote the screenplay adaptation, Nora Ephron, was allowed to direct it as well. There has been talk the last few years – talk of women’s inability to create beautiful or marketable films, women’s inability to be in the lead in the film industry. And by no means are women in the lead – we are falling behind, and we desperately need to catch up. We are told that if a film doesn’t have a strong male lead, then it isn’t marketable. But Julie and Julia defied that, and still received great reviews, to 20th Century Fox’s dismay, I’m sure. A great victory to female film makers.
I guess I just get frustrated when I find that the films that are so good, the films that I love, are all made by men, and that films that I see and just hate are often made by women. I feel like, not only are men telling us we can’t rise above sexism, but many of the women who are making films are proving that men are right. That we are incompetent. That we don’t know what we’re doing. Women need to stop proving men right, or they’ll stop getting the chance to all together.
I need to be driven. Desire driven. Not about everything, but about any area of my life where I need to see difficult but important change.
TaGR compares it to the drive for sex. Pretty good metaphor.
I have two important but difficult goals to pursue. One is to pile up $650,000.00 with $10K/mo recurring income and the other is to get to 180 lbs. Both of them are doable on a proper time scale. I need to figure out how to tie them to my sex drive.
I wonder if you listen
to me anymore…
Last night in bed
naked and spent,
my face next to
your head, I whispered ,
“Oh! Peter,
I love you so!”
It should have been
“Oh! Paul…”
Don’t you think so?
I froze for a moment,
bit my lips,
cursed my own self,
ready to deny
I’ve found comfort
in another man’s chest.
Till you said, “Darling,
I love you too,
don’t you know.”
My fear disappeared
like a dream,
You’d saved our marriage
yet again.
My knight in shining
armour, you don’t listen
to me anymore, and
I no longer complain
about it.
International assistance and sexual exploitation have, sadly, often long gone hand in hand; during the 90s, I was one of the reporters who broke the story of widespread misconduct by UN peacekeepers, while Anna worked on a seminal report on the issue with the charismatic Jordanian UN ambassador Prince Zeid.
At the time, the scandal was used as a convenient stick with which to beat the UN by its detractors in the United States – although that same country subsequently led opposition to UN efforts to create a more effective disciplinary system. The UN has nonetheless, within its limited powers to control the troops of member states, implemented an official ‘no tolerance’ policy, and the rules in Haiti appear quite strict – we quickly learn a long list of no go zones, such as certain bars, where officials may not tread.
But the UN has no monopoly on such practices. Abuses are rampant wherever powerful people from rich countries find themselves in proximity with the poor, and it comes as no surprise to discover this piece in the Windsor Star (thanks to Povertynewsblog for finding it).
Youth who claims he was abused by a Canadian sex worker - according to the Windsor Star
“He was 16, and like most Haitian teens, surviving on street smarts. One day, he accepted a job helping a humanitarian aid worker carry supplies to his home.
‘After I finished he asked me to come back for a talk,’ recalled the man, now 23, speaking Creole through an interpreter. The aid worker offered him money for sex, the man alleges, and a relationship began.
‘It was to pay for school for me. That was the main reason. If you do it for me I pay for school.’”
“Mission sex — it’s Haiti’s dirty little secret.
The western world’s poorest country is, according to one aid worker, a “perfect storm” of socio-economic conditions for abuse by visiting humanitarians. It’s tropical temperatures and breathtaking natural beauty are easily, and cheaply, accessible from North America. Heavily dependent on foreign aid and with virtually no regulation of its schools and orphanages, Haiti’s justice system is ill-equipped to deal with a rising tide of sex tourism.”
Sex tourism appears to have been fairly prevalent in Haiti during the Duvalier era, but took a dip after the Aids epidemic – and subsequent (misguided) claims that Haiti had exported Aids to the US. Most likely, it was the other way round.
A couple of recent cases serve as a reminder it remains a serious issue, and might become more so as Haiti grows a little more stable. Most disturbingly, two priests are separately facing sexual abuse charges:
John Duarte, 43, former leader of the Windsor-based Hearts Together For Haiti, was recently arrested by Dominican authorities on a warrant issued in Canada, on charges of sexually abusing teenage Haitian boys – according to the Windsor Star. Douglas Perlitz, 39, was indicted in September by a grand jury in Fairfield County, Connecticut, and faces 10 counts related to the sexual abuse of nine boys for about a decade, CNN reported.
Joao Jose Correira Duarte, a former Windsor priest, is now facing extradition to Canada, where he's expected to face 12 charges in the sexual abuse of Haitian youths, age 12 to 17, the Immigration Office and National Drug Control Directorate said in a statement sent to Canwest News Service. Photograph by: Handout, CNS Source Windsor Star
One is left wondering about the religious sector in general.
Despite the Catholic priest scandals of the past decade, there have not been any major studies of missionary work. One suspects the vast majority of such work – as with that of UN staff – is well-intentioned. But wherever power is wielded without scrutiny, abuses occur.
There are countless missions in Haiti, largely – one suspects – unwatched. It might be a valuable endeavour to take a closer look.
1. Latest Pew poll shows Americans mixing and matching traditional religions, fantasy, and mythology – I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Today’s religion is yesterday’s cult and tomorrow’s mythology.
Entitled “Many Americans Mix Multiple Faiths,” the report points out that many Americans are now choosing to “blend Christianity with Eastern or New Age beliefs” and that “sizable minorities of all major U.S. religious groups” said that they have had supernatural experiences, like encountering ghosts.
. . .
Twenty percent of Protestants and 28 percent of Catholics said they believe in reincarnation, which flies in the face of Christianity’s rapture scenario. Furthermore, about the same percentages said they believe in astrology, yoga as a spiritual practice and the idea that there is “spiritual energy” pulsing from things like “mountains, trees or crystals.” Uh-oh. Someone’s God is going to be jealous.
. . .
The report is further evidence that Americans continue to cobble together Mr. Potato Head-like spiritual identities from a hodgepodge of beliefs — bending dogmas to suit them instead of bending themselves to fit a dogma. And this appears to be leading to more spirituality, not less.
So suck it, Jesus! Edward Cullen is my god now. He sparkles!
Or maybe Americans will start worshipping Pokemon, as one pastor warns.
2. Female fruit flies too sexy? -
Females can be too attractive to the opposite sex — too attractive for their own good — say biologists at UC Santa Barbara. They found that, among fruit flies, too much male attention directed toward attractive females leads to smaller families and, ultimately, to a reduced rate of population-wide adaptive evolution.
C’mon, didn’t we all know that attractive females would be the downfall of at least one species? That’s pretty much the one thing the Bible got right.
3. ‘Nonsense’ DNA Key to Evolution of Genomes -
The sequences of nonsense DNA that interrupt genes could be far more important to the evolution of genomes than previously thought, according to a recent Science report by Indiana University Bloomington and University of New Hampshire biologists.
So you surfed the net and found this blog, great! For now it is empty but I will be posting previews of my new leather and fur fetish site soon. You are all welcome @ Chateau Cuir! We will offer fully leather dressed babes, softcore and hardcore in leather, smoking in leather, femdom, boot fetish, glove fetish, wet and messy leather babes…basically everything sexy in leather and fur!
According to public documents Bill O’Reilly DOES have “urges” such as “loofah/falafel shower fantasies and vibrators with names and telling female co-workers that a brown skinned girl told him he had a big penis…oh Bill. All that cost Mr. O’Really? a large amount of money to kill the sexual harassment charges and make them go away.
Bill O’Reilly is so obsessed with Adam Lambert who is successful and has talent and Adam doesn’t need to lie to make a living. Poor Bill O’Reilly earns his living on lies and smears which are often homophobic. Bill doesn’t get the “urge” to be so loud and upset when heterosexual dance moves are presented a network run by his parent company.
Why does Bill seem so insecure in his sexuality, why does Adam Lambert’s sexuality and AMA performance get him so excited?
Oh, Bill….are you upset that a vocal gay is proud and people love his music and talent? It seems that when certain groups/minorites make it big, Christians like Bill O’Reilly get upset. They hate people like Adam and Obama because they don’t agree with sexual behavior or color. No other reason…just pure christian hate.
At times, even the best player can watch another team or another competitor and may have to “steal” a play. While they may not actually rip the pages out of a playbook, an athlete can watch and mimic. A true player of the game can learn from the best or just those better.
Do the same. Is there someone who is better at talking to the opposite sex than you? Is there a way they walk or a way they approach others? Is there someone who dresses a certain style when they’re out at the clubs getting the attention you long for? These are their plays, feel free to “steal” their plays.
Remember, this is not being someone you’re not. You’re simply adding new moves to your repetoire. Your adding shifts in style that don’t disagree with who you are but enhance who you are. If Michael Jordan had learned the windmill dunk from watching Charles Barkley, would that make Jordan any less of the player he was? Not at all.
Dubai: A driver has denied intentionally killing a prostitute, claiming he defended himself when she tried to strangle him after they quarrelled over her fees.
“I did not kill her premeditatedly…she offered to have sex for Dh25 but we fought over her fees. She pushed me and tried to strangle me. I almost suffocated…I grabbed the first thing I found and battered her head to force her to let go of me because I needed to breathe,” said the 24-year-old Bangladeshi driver when he defended himself before the Dubai Court of First Instance.
Prosecutors charged the suspect, M.R., with the premeditated murder of Chinese sex worker L.M. and stealing her mobile phone.
The suspect pleaded not guilty and argued before Presiding Judge Fahmi Mounir: “She tried to kill me and I acted in self defence…”
Advocate Eisa Bin Haidar volunteered to defend M.R., when Presiding Judge Mounir asked if any lawyers present in the courtroom were ready to represent the suspect.
An Emirati police captain testified that the woman’s body was found in a building in Naif.
Covered in blood
“We reached the flat and discovered that the Chinese woman, in her thirties, had been battered to death … blood covered the floor and surrounding walls. Preliminary investigations unveiled that she succumbed two days before. A special investigation team was formed and combed the area until a suspect was arrested for possessing the woman’s stolen mobile phone. He claimed that L.M. gave him the phone,” the captain testified.
Records said the alleged murder was unveiled after neighbours complained to the building’s watchman that a bad smell was coming from the victim’s flat.
There are many dating websites on the internet so how do you know which ones to explore? First, you should compare pricing. Some, like Eharmony, are very expensive to join. Other websites like PlentyofFish.com and Mingle2.com are free to join. There are many other free dating websites you could join but I do not reccomend them.
Plenty of fish.com is actually a great dating website. It has been around for many years so you can count on it being there for you. They have some personality tests on their site to help you figure out what kind of person you are and you can use the results to match up with other people.
On Plenty of fish .com you can match up with people using different search criteria, like distance, age, sex, and age. You can look up people with similar interests as well. If you like to go square dancing then you can actually search for others that like it too. Searching is easy to do on Plenty of Fish. You can also take a look at those that have viewed your profile. It lists them as thumbnails with their photo, if they have one posted, so you can easily see if you want to make contact with them. After all, they took the first step and looked at your profile.
Contacting others on Plentyoffish.com is real simple too. You have an inbox and a sentbox so you can keep your messages on file to read and respond later if you choose.
Another great thing about Plentyoffish.com is their forums. You can post in their forum section and meet others that way. Finding common ground sometimes makes it easier to start talking to someone. In the forums you can also check to see if there will be any Plenty of Fish local get togethers. They do these a few times a year but mainly in the larger cities. They are arranged by local plentyoffish.com members.
Like with any other dating website, be safe and obey their rules. You can read through their terms of service on the website. If you are going to meet someone make sure it is in a public place for the first time. Safety should be your number one priority and remember there are plenty of fish in the sea to choose from.
Tiger appears to have knocked boots with damn near any female he could find over the past few years. It makes one wonder, when did he have time to practice? Evidently horizontal activities are good for the short game or long game in Tiger’s case. Memphians are no stranger to philandering celebrities. News reports that Willie screwed anything with legs, including his constituents. Remember the allegation that Willie was swapping promotions for sex with female employees at Memphis City Schools. Or how about the infamous stripper scandal? Don’t worry Tiger. You have a long way to go before you reach the ranks of Slick Willie.
Bianca is my least favorite of the girls that I drive for. She listens to ‘electronica’ and carries on a cellophane-hidden persona that is supposedly wiser than you and imperceptible to the flaws and fears that plague all of our species. She’s (allegedly) twenty-eight and still wears glitter. And, perhaps one of the least desirable traits one can possess — she is aware of how attractive she is.
I doubt she thinks much of me much, either. But I’m pretty sure she wants to fuck me…or at least get to the bottom of why I don’t want to fuck her.
“So what do you do for fun?”
“I get fucked up by myself until the music sounds just right,” I say, taking a drag from my cigarette and looking out the window, secretly enamored with my own spontaneous words and equally saddened by their honesty. “To placate my head, I go out…chase skirts and try to make conversation with people I vaguely identify with…all that jazz. But it’s not fun. It’s exercise.”
“I know what you mean.” I doubt it, but I always do my best to hang onto the possibility.
“I used to read a lot…and write a lot.”
“Kelly said you were a great writer.” Kelly is my ex, our co-worker, and, as far as I can tell, Bianca’s nemesis.
“I’ve heard that once or twice…but I lack the discipline and my mind is rotting.”
“Why’s that?’
“I’ve kinda fried it,” I say, navigating Dead Man’s Curve. “Maybe not as badly as I always say…but enough to freak me out if I could truly realize how bad.”
“Kelly says you’re pretty smart.” Both of them relay their conversations to me frequently, and I am continually baffled as to why two people who seemingly hate each other spend so much time chatting about their personal lives together.
“Used think so…not so much these days.”
The tires buzzsaw through puddles as we pull into the parking lot. I let her out of the car, and the rain smacks against my head and her’s, which is covered by my suit coat. We catch the usual stares in the lobby.
“What are you doing after work?” she asks with a flick of her hair as the elevator doors close.
“Getting fucked up by myself until the music sounds just right.”
“Want to grab a drink?”
“You buying?”
“I guess,” she says with a laugh and a taken aback expression, flicking her hair once again under the dead elevator lights.
“Then I’m in.” As we step out of the elevator, she fishes a glass bullet from her purse and takes an all-business bump, closing her eyes and running a hand over her face. Despite the fact that I thoroughly dislike her, I kind of want to hug her right now. After the usual spiel to the john, I head back down to the car to catch the Cavs post game show.
Why am I in? As far as I can figure, it boils down to one and/or all of the following reasons — free alcohol, the possibility of self-esteem boosting sex that will become depressing by dawn, or a futile attempt to evade desperate loneliness…none of which seem very appealing. But even still, I am in…
“I was a lot like you when I was your age,” she says as if we were separated by decades, sucking her drink through a little red straw without removing her eyes from mine. We ended up at a dim light joint with lots of art deco metal and fashionable glassware. The bartender looks like Troy Aikman.
“Yeah?” I say with an unintentional condescending laugh. “How so?”
“I dunno…we just have the same kind of vibe.” Vibe? I pick up the pace of my trips to the well, determined to make this worth my time. I am so fervent that at one point a little slips out and dribbles down my shirt.
“So why do you do this for a living?”
“Paycheck.”
“No, like…you’re better than this.”
“I really wouldn’t expect a pro to needle me about my occupation.” Blood swirls through my cheeks. “That came out wrong…surely it’s happened to you so much that it’s a raw nerve?”
“Yeah…I know what you mean. Sorry.” For once her demeanor doesn’t seem invented.
“Don’t be.”
“How’s it going?,” Troy Aikman the Bartender interrupts with a smile.
“Good…two more. And a round of whiskey,” I say, without the consent of the tab’s cardholder.
The depth of the conversation bottoms out, and we spend the next few drinks discussing music, television, and amusing anecdotes about visits to Canada. I am neither amused with her stories or in agreement with her tastes.
“You’re cute,” she says with a boozy stare, lightly running her fingers across my cheek. I need to get out of here before my dick wakes up and takes over.
“Can I borrow your bullet for a second?”
“Sure,” she says, pulling it from her purse and slipping it to me under the table, clearly dismayed by my lack of her expected reaction.
I head to the bathroom and rip it as if I were desperate for oxygen. I look into the mirror and don’t recognize myself. I think of the twenty year old Manhattan resident I once was, and that kid wants to punch this one in the mouth.
“We’re not alike and we don’t have a vibe,” I say adamantly without preface, slapping my hand on the steel bar. “You wear glitter and listen to music that promotes a lack of soul and watch reality TV…I don’t know if you pretend to like it ironically or outright enjoy it, but to me that’s like watching poor Somalian kids swatting flies…it’s torture and it’s sad. The only connection we could possibly share is that we hate our lives, we hate the world around us, and we pretend not to…and, well…welcome to the fucking club. That’s not a vibe. That’s life.”
I slip her bullet back to her under the bar, and it takes her a few seconds to accept it. She shoves it into her purse with a tense agitation.
“This is why you’re sad and alone,” she says after a stunned silence, twisting her face and calling for Troy Aikman’s attention.
“Probably.”
“Loser,” she says, with a toss of her hair as she strokes her signature on the tab.
SOME laws in the Malaysian Penal Code are outdated and irrelevant, say criminal lawyers who are calling for a review of the code.
For example, Section 229, which spells out offences relating to jurors, still stands 14 years after Malaysia abolished jury trials and trials by assessors.
“There are laws which have not been in use but are still found in the Penal Code because there’s no concerted reform of the code,” said Edmund Bon, chairperson of the Bar Council Constitutional Law Committee.
Bon suggested that the Law Reform Committee, an independent committee set up this year by Prime Minister Datuk Seri Najib Razak to restructure obsolete or overlapping legalisation in the country, extend its scope to cover the Penal Code.
The issue of archaic provisions came under public scrutiny lately after an obscure piece of law allowed celebrity Daphne Iking’s husband to pursue criminal action against a businessman for allegedly “enticing” her.
Calls for the abolishment of Section 498, which criminalises enticing and taking away or detaining with criminal intent a married woman, have intensified in the weeks leading to the hearing of the case scheduled on Wednesday and Thursday.
Criminal law expert Rajpal Singh said obsolete acts could impact people as their rights and liberty were involved.
“We need to delete some sections and include new sections to cover modern crimes, because some of them were set at times that are no longer applicable.
“With the advancement of technology, today’s situations are totally different. We have to move with the times,” said Rajpal, who heads the Criminal Law Committee of the Bar Council.
One example is the segment of laws in Sections 292 to 294 pertaining to the sale and distribution of obscene materials, and display of obscene acts in public places, said Bon.
“Obscenity is very subjective, and with the advent of the Internet, the standards of decency and obscenity have become very blurred.
“The purpose of that law was to deter people from spreading obscene information.
“But porn sites are all over the place, so unless you shut down the Internet, or rework the categories to make it more relevant, it’s very hard to police or prosecute obscenity.
“So the law has fallen into disuse. And it is no longer appropriate to have the offence because it will result in unfair and selective prosecutions.”
Chapter XXI of the Penal Code, which outlined offences on defamation should also be reviewed, Bon contended, because defamation should not be a criminal offence.
“Defamation may be punishable by civil action and result in damages but it shouldn’t put someone in prison. That would be too heavy a punishment and is an unwarranted violation of freedom of expression.”
In recent years, some women’s groups have taken the stand that prostitution-related offences should go because sex work should be seen purely from a functional perspective.
In making sex work illegal, the trade had been pushed underground, they argued. Discrimination and crimes like human trafficking, violation of rights, and unfair treatment had also been exacerbated.
“It’s a delicate issue, but from the legal perspective, we look at laws to meet social needs. We have to see if the law is affecting society more detrimentally than if we have no such laws,” said Bon.
There had also been calls by human rights groups to repeal Sections 377A and 377B of the Penal Code which criminalises carnal intercourse against the order of nature, an offence punishable by imprisonment of up to 20 years.
As long as oral sex is consensual between adults and takes place behind closed doors, it should not be an offence, Bon said.
On the Chinese tv there was a reenactment of the Tiger Woods car crash for allegedly cheating on his wife. The several sources on the internet have reported an increasing amount of women who Tiger Woods presumably had an affair with.
The Chinese “sims-like” reenactment tell both the official story by the police spokesperson as well as the story of how the car crash came to be.
After 12+ hours of no response, I finally buckled and asked him what he thought of my stance. To which he responded that he didn’t like it, because he felt that I did not understand him.
I recapped what I felt he wanted from me, and trumped with my simply-simple request. To which in my mind, didn’t outweigh what he was asking of me. Again, no answer.
Therefore, I concluded that if my request was too much, then we’d just have to stop seeing each other.
Dead. Silence. (I feel like I’ve written this before).
The complications of this “thing” overwhelms me.
Primarily because IT is a guy who I really liked. He was the “different” guy who I was mysteriously attracted to. And in getting to know him, he was the rare kind of black man that listened to dance and techno, had drive and ambition, and intelligence. (A male version of myself, yet with resounding differences). So, my heart was rooting for him. I would have gone along with anything this man wanted. I was rarely ready to concede all control to this man, because he was competent of leading the way in this kind of relationship.
But, one of my laundry lists of needs had to be met. And you want to know what it was? A simple Hi, Hello, How are you doing, How’s your day.
Those words, are the best forms of sexual fore-play, as they ease the tension and anxiety (and reluctance) which gradually build inside me.
And that’s lowering the bar dramatically! I’m not demanding him to hold my hand, or (gasp) be my man.
But, his silence is indicative of his disapproval. To that, I say. Fuck It!
I feel bad. I feel confused, and I’m starting to waver to believe that I was too hasty in deciding this. I’m starting to feel doubtful.
But I remind myself, that if I want to be treated with respect, I can’t demand it without change.
I’m still a little sad, but I’ll be fine. I’ll put as much time mourning this break over as he did my requests………………………Okay, I’m done.
Tidak sampai 24 jam selepas diijab kabul dan bergelar isteri, seorang wanita yang sarat mengandung melahirkan bayi perempuan, awal pagi semalam.
Ibu muda berusia 21 tahun itu melahirkan anak di Hospital Melaka (HM) kira-kira jam 6 pagi selepas dimasukkan ke wad enam jam sebelum itu kerana mengadu sakit perut.
Wanita itu bernikah dengan pasangannya berusia 28 tahun dan turut mengadakan majlis perkahwinan mereka di rumah keluarganya di sini walaupun mengetahui dirinya hanya menunggu masa untuk melahirkan anak.
Difahamkan, majlis perkahwinan pasangan itu meriah seperti pasangan pengantin baru lain dengan kedua-dua mempelai bersanding dan diarak dengan kompang.
Bagaimanapun, kelahiran anak tidak sah taraf pasangan itu dibongkar Bahagian Penguatkuasaan Jabatan Agama Islam Melaka (Jaim) sebaik menerima aduan mengenainya.
Berikutan itu, sepasukan anggota penguat kuasa Jaim diketuai Ketua Pegawai Penguat Kuasa Agamanya, Rahimin Bani pergi ke HM untuk mengambil keterangan pasangan terbabit.
Rahimin berkata, siasatan mendapati wanita terbabit baru melangsungkan perkahwinan walaupun mengetahui sudah sarat mengandung.
Katanya, ketika disoal, suami wanita terbabit turut berada bersama-samanya.
“Wanita berkenaan faham apabila diberitahu dia melakukan kesalahan melahirkan anak luar nikah dan pasangannya mengakui bersubahat melakukan persetubuhan haram,” katanya.
Beliau berkata, pasangan itu mengakui terlanjur selepas pertama kali berkenalan pada April lalu dan hasil hubungan haram beberapa kali itu menyebabkan wanita berkenaan hamil.
“Kehamilan wanita terbabit diketahui keluarganya dan pasangan itu dinikahkan semalam (kelmarin),” katanya.
Beliau berkata, pasangan terbabit diberi notis saman hadir untuk disoal siasat dalam tempoh terdekat.
Menurutnya, wanita berkenaan akan didakwa mengikut Seksyen 54 Enakmen Kesalahan Syariah Negeri Melaka 1991 kerana hamil luar nikah.
“Manakala, lelaki terbabit akan didakwa mengikut Seksyen 55 enakmen sama kerana bersubahat melakukan persetubuhan haram.
“Sabit kesalahan bagi kedua-dua pertuduhan itu boleh didenda RM3,000 atau penjara 24 bulan atau kedua-duanya sekali,” katanya.
Apa yang berlaku ini bukanlah kes terpencil tetapi memang sudah biasa berlaku kepada masyarakat Malaysia sekarang ini dimana bukan sahaja muslim tetapi non-muslim pun turut mengamalkan budaya sama seperti ini. Walaubagaimanapun budaya ini adalah lebih baik berbanding sekiranya lelaki yang bersubahat melakukan persetubuhan haram dan menyebabkan pasangannya mengandung dan melahirkan anak luar nikah tidak mahu bertanggungjawab.
Oleh kerana mereka sudah terlanjur dengan persetubuhan haram sebelum kahwin,maka ada baiknya mereka mengakui dan bertanggungjawab keatas apa yang mereka telah buat.Pasal DOSA, biarlah mereka yang tanggung sendiri atau biarlah mereka yang jawab kepadaNYA nanti.
Sebenarnya perbuatan mereka ini merugikan mereka sendiri.Bayangkan mereka baru saja mengadakan hubungan seks 3-4 kali (belum kahwin) dan secara sembunyi-sembunyi tetapi sudah dapat anak?. Cuba mereka kahwin duluan baru buat hubungan seks…berapa kalikah agaknya mereka dapat menikmati keindahan dan kesedapan seks sebelum dapat anak.Bukankah 2-3 kali mereka buat seks seharipun orang lain tak peduli kerana itu adalah hak mereka sebagai suami-isteri yang sah? Kalau dah 9 bulan bersama..agaknya berapa kali mereka boleh buat hubungan seks? Kan sendiri rugi!! Jadi fikir2kanlah mana satu yang terbaik samada seks dulu baru kahwin atau kahwin dulu baru seks yang menguntungkan? Tetapi memanglah…ramai orang kata,mengadakan hubungan seks haram adalah lebih nikmat berbanding dengan seks yang sah.
Jadi fikir2kanlah mana satu yang anda suka atau yang mana lebih baik dan semoga pilihan anda tepat dan bertanggungjawab.
In the tale of Jennifer Lopez’s intimate home videos, she may have won the battle but her ex-husband and his team is fighting to win the war.
Earlier this month, a Los Angeles Superior Court judge granted J. Lo a temporary restraining order to stop the release of private home videos from 1997 that Lopez’ ex, Ojani Noa, was planning to release.
The movie, How I Married Jennifer Lopez: The J. Lo and Ojani Noa Story, featured Lopez in “sexual situations,” her attorney claimed in court documents. Lopez, who reportedly got a confidentiality agreement with Noa years ago, sued for breach of contract, where she sought $10 million in damages. In court documents, Lopez says she’s suffered “shame, mortification, hurt feelings, embarrassment, (and) humiliation.”
Now the film’s executive producer, Ed Meyer, is threatening to put photographs and 11 hours of footage into court files accessible by the public, the New York Daily News reports.
“It’s time for someone in Hollywood to stand up to [Lopez's attorneys], and I’m that person,” Meyer said. “If the judge finds me in contempt on Tuesday, then the world media will be there to see me led out of the courtroom in handcuffs.”Noa originally threatened to release a tell-all book, accusing Lopez of cheating on him with her current husband Marc Anthony, in 2007 but a judge killed his plans due to the confidentiality agreement. –Linda Hobbs
I like you, a lot.”
1. Latest Pew poll shows Americans mixing and matching traditional religions, fantasy, and mythology – I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Today’s religion is yesterday’s cult and tomorrow’s mythology.
2. Female fruit flies too sexy? -
3. ‘Nonsense’ DNA Key to Evolution of Genomes -
Tiger appears to have knocked boots with damn near any female he could find over the past few years. It makes one wonder, when did he have time to practice? Evidently horizontal activities are good for the short game or long game in Tiger’s case. Memphians are no stranger to philandering celebrities. News reports that Willie screwed anything with legs, including his constituents. Remember the allegation that Willie was swapping promotions for sex with female employees at Memphis City Schools. Or how about the infamous stripper scandal? Don’t worry Tiger. You have a long way to go before you reach the ranks of Slick Will
ie.
