Since the last time I wrote this we lived in Mississippi for a week in an awesome house and closed down a JFO in a day. We got done early and got to enjoy ourselves. We got word we were going back to sacramento to help with some things and then head to Oakland until transition back in sac. We made it to Arizona and disaster struck Oklahoma City in the form of tornados.
In sobriety there is a circle amongst those not laden in Ambien Grace; fake it until you make it!
Up until five months ago, I attempted to fake it until I made it. However, IT had nothing to do with drinking. Or, perhaps, the act of sex itself would have been made a little more enticing had I been drinking.
And, Ambien Annie only knows and she ain’t tellin’.
The best depiction thus far off FAKING an orgasm is in the film When Harry Met Sally. Meg Ryan all cute and innocent sits quietly in a breakfast nook with Billy Crystal. The man of course, claims, you couldn’t have been fakin’ it. You can tell the difference…everyone knows that.
Well, apparently, Billy, Ambien Annie, Gracie Lou Freebush and all the self absorbed sexual deviants out there, you are absolutely wrong.
Meg goes on to moan, grind, sigh and state, ‘oh, God!’
Yup! That’s pretty much how it is done.
If you find yourself unfortunate enough to be absorbed into the dumbed down generation with a younger lover…you don’t even have to try that hard. A few hints to those still thinking their sexual prowl-ness is still going on…when indeed it has sunk like the Titanic.
1. Oh, stop, it’s too much…I can’t take anymore. A young lover will take that as, great, I’ve hit the mark. A smart person would understand that as; I should pack up my bat and ball and go home. I’ve struck out!
2. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God. Again, dumbed down and dyed blonde’s would insist that is a sign of the eight wonder of the world…their fantastical ability in the bedroom. An old sexy sage understands that their partner is very against organized religion and therefore, the word, GOD would only mean; put an end to this madness.
3. You don’t have to please me. I like being the one who does all the work. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. If you honestly believe you are that deserving of one sided foreplay then you should go it alone. Generally, kids, if both sides aren’t playing in the game, the game should be called on account of Foul Play!
4. I like it when you’re on the bottom it turns me on. Women and in particularly those females calling themselves lesbians. Get this, if you are constantly on the bottom, loose some weight. It is as plain and simple as the horror stricken look on your bathroom scale every time you dismount. You are purposefully asked to be on the bottom for the air space is crowded any other way.
Aghast, at what little effort it took to hook and bait my catfish, Ambien Annie. It spoiled the crop when we had to go at it each and every waking hour of the day. Sex is sex is sex. Bad sex repeatedly can wear on the psyche and erode what little energy you have when the good stuff comes around.
Perhaps, a point of sedation is needed when forcing and faking an orgasm. I would ask my partner but so far we haven’t needed any pointers.
Got myself a habit
Gotta find a way to make it
Ain’t no one to help me
Gotta do it on my own
Gotta give you credit
Thinking that we’re gonna’ make it
I made the decision
I’m better off alone
Trying to get out of
Messed up situations
Trying to come up with
A reason not to go
I can’t believe you buy it
Every time I try to fake it
You didn’t think I like it
Anytime, (but yes I don’t (?))
So I guess I’m on my way
This is all I got to say
Don’t try to stop me!
No, no, no!
Try to win a battle
? never conversation
Staying in a ?
When everything feels wrong
Hard to be an angel
When I’m sleeping with the devil, yeah
Hard to be a good girl
When you treated me so bad
You and me together
Ain’t no winning combination
You were such a player
And I ain’t gonna play along
So I guess I’m on my way
This is all I got to say
With bikini season upon us our choices are endless…
The visuals of women thinking they are models and are in actually non intelligent life forms from another planet stuffed into polyester maxi pads and rayon ear muffs.
Large is always in charge when not a single friend has the courage to say,
‘I thought you owned a mirror?’
Instead what unfolds is a little bit of history repeating itself:
‘Get me a shoehorn, bad genes and a enviable blonde attitude and I just might pass.’
Discouraged among the dumb down…
Ambien at the beach!
I went to the beach not too long ago…Martha’s Vineyard! Of course, that is where you would find the highest population of white on white bodies needing to get over their over fed ideas on wealth and wisdom.
At the beach, Mother Theresa found a shell and stated to me:
Pick it up and hold it close to your one good ear, Ambien! You can hear your future in it!
I shook the water and ideas loose from my dyed to be blonde head and held the untidy shell close. Soon I would be hearing my life’s untold story!
Waiting and waiting some more. I listened intently for my up and coming events of saving the world with misspelled ‘big’ words and bequeathing the poor and impoverished one double scooped ice cream at a time. Thank Christ for an allowance.
What had my one good ear and my one soiled shell told me?
Not one fuckin’ thing! A crab scurried out, bit my ear and now I have crabs. I will never listen to Mummy or my future again!
Traveling through the satellite images of my mind; vague and unclear, pagan and not far from sexual deviancy…I found this tidbit online.
You see I have nothing but time on my hands for volunteering for VISTA is a farce. I look busy; I wear the outfits, bad unnatural colors that do nothing for my weight problem. I am however, still, Ambien Grace, AKA Gracie Williams and/or Gracie Lou Free My Bush Up.
In trenched in homework, not! Abiding by my peer mentor who appears to be in the midst of ‘the change’ and who also didn’t really need the hormone injections because, shit, Sista’ you look John Goodman. Following as I do so well, I have yet to get that boost. The trigger that will move back the hands of time and just like a Chai Pet; Ambien Grace, the leader and protagonist appears.
Not happening…Check this one out”
I was rushed to pack on leaving this program and informed that if I had left anything they would mail it back, they lied… oh and if you’re a Christian they will persecute you till you quit… I don’t recommend this program. Oh that whole peer helper confidentiality thing is bogus… never trust them to be someone you can talk to. You’re paid to put up with each other, that doesn’t mean you should have to be friends so don’t trust any of your team or unit mates… They just want to see you fired or pressure you into quitting… oh and forced to see the opposite genders boxers is offensive … seriously there is a degree of respect that should be shown…. the older you are the more respect people should be showing… I was informed in this program that they didn’t have to respect me because they were younger and that I didn’t deserve respect! Well I became ill from poor nutrition, and messed up my foot do to the lack of respect in the fact that I required special dietary needs and was not athletic. We were forced to work out in goose and dog poop which is completely unsanitary! …. This program is not professional or appropriate. I was persecuted for my faith, bullied by the team and TL; and then the stole my water bottle because they could not be bothered to keep their word and mail it to me…. I spent my personal money on it and did not ask to be rushed in packing when I realized I had forgotten it they said don’t worry we will mail it back to you… thieves that is what I have to say!
You know if someone took my thongs and my porno…I’d be pissed. As it is, the tides of the tragic will be coming soon and I’ll be facing my past.
It does concern me that I am older than most in my F-Up Troop and I just don’t get no respect. I even tried flirting with the other butch women to no avail. That’s okay; I’d be at odds to which one of us would be on top.
So much for now from Winchester VA…keep those tax dollars coming-
Ambien, Annie and Gracie
Hello Muddah, hello Fadduh,
Here I am at Camp Star
Camp is very entertaining
And they say we’ll have some fun if we start training.
I went hiking with Amber who looks like an Archie.
She developed poison ivy!
You remember Kayla my mentor
She got ptomaine poisoning last night after dinner.
All the supervisors hate the government
And the land looks like broken pavement.
And the head counselor wants no sissies
So he reads to us from something called I eat Pussies.
Now I don’t want this should scare ya
But my bunkmate has chlamydia
You remember my alter ego, Gracie Williams?
Don’t care what they say; I won’t stop lookin’ ‘til I find ‘em.
Take me home, oh muddah fadduh, take me home, I hate Virginia…
Don’t leave me out in the forest where I might get eaten by a redneck.
Take me home, I promise I will not make noise or mess the house with
Dirty boys, oh please don’t make me stay, I’ve been here and I can’t get out of my own way.
Dearest fadduh, darling muddah,
How’s my precious little Beckett Couvillion?
Let me come home if ya miss me
I will even let heterosexuals hug and kiss me.
Wait a minute, it stopped hailing,
Dykes are swimming, Dykes are sailing,
Playing baseball, gee that’s better,
Muddah Fadduh please disregard this letter.