Gone Sailing

Have fun you funky people......I ran out of time for a proper post and now I'm going sailing.

For anyone interested in following the race, go to the Rolex Sydney Hobart website for the live tracker.

Back in a few weeks to take on 2008!

Cya

Wet, Wet, Wet

So this is it kids, last day of work before the real hard yakka starts.

A smart person would have been banking sleep like it was gold but not me, I seem to have been burning both ends of the candle for a few months now and it is only going to get worse for a few weeks yet.

Come December 26th, I will be off on an adventure, sailing in the Sydney Hobart yacht race.

We are just starting to get a picture of what to expect weather wise but as with all weather related shenanigans and this race, you just never know until you are in it.

A good friend and I were laughing that it is one of those races where everyone wants the great downhill run in fine weather but if you finish a heavy weather race then everyone is just as happy to have the story that they got there.

Is it really dangerous? yeah it can be. Is it fun? well it depends on your perspective on life.

It is a challenge, if you like challenges, if you like pushing through, if you like having no other option than to finish the job or just lay down and die then yeah, it is fun.

People often wonder why would you put yourself in that position. I think some do it because they enjoy the competition, others love the open ocean and the isolation from our comfortable and hermetically sealed little lives, some do it because it is a badge of honour or way to get a shirt that buys a little extra cred at the local yacht club.

For me it is the competition and the isolation. Sailing is just great fun and coming on watch to see water and rolling waves in every direction, to know that there is no stop button and to know that the you and the other lumps of meat on this piece of plastic are truly insignificant puts your life in perspective.

It is a frivolous folly that proves nothing and risks everything. An ocean race can be a lifetime of joy, terror, beauty and reward crammed into a few days.

The sea could swallow you and it would not care. It makes up two thirds of our planet and yet it is as foreign as outer space. Anyone silly enough to think it is tamed is only one rogue wave away from being evicted from this life.

I am excited. I am grinning just thinking about it.

Before all that though I have another big dance party to get through then all the family crap over Christmas. I don't know why, and I hope I could change it if I had kids of my own but Christmas just gets on my nerves.

I love my family and am close with the them but the extended family just bore me. I am choosy about who I sit down to break bread with and these are people I would not choose if given the chance. Sure they are nice enough but...I dunno.

All those, "when are you going to find a nice girl", "must be time you produced a grand kid for your parents" comments are likely to result in spontaneous violence.

The consumer driven Christmas thing winds me up too. I like buying special gifts for a special or spontaneous moment but being told it is Christmas and you have to supply gifts NOW just gives me performance anxiety.

The end result is that I choose not to play that game which then results in guilt when sitting around a Christmas tree being given gifts and not having any to give back to people you don't care about. Fuckedy fuck'nfuck.

Every year it seems to be this crazy rush at work just so you can all have a break at the same time. Most of my customers don't have more than a day off at this time of year so seem to resent that we do. Fuckers.

I am trying to respond less to their pressure but it is a battle of epic proportions. A classic example;

Customer: We want product X by Y in colour Z.
Me: Sure thing, you will have to order that yesterday and pay a penalty to jump the que.
Customer: Not a problem, transferring a 5 figure sum now.
Me: Thanks for the order, just confirming in writing that it is model X in colour Z with a shipping date of T.
Customer: Yes that is all correct, thanks so much for pushing this through...

Two weeks into production.....

Customer: Ah, we have a small problem.
Me: haha, no you have a small problem but please tell me about it.
Customer: It seems that between the media buyer and advertising agency there was bit of a mix up with the client. The client does not want colour Z, it has to be a mix of A & B.
Me: That is a bugger, we just finished cutting it out.
Customer: how much is that going to cost them?
Me: At least your five figure deposit...
Customer: I'll call you back.
Me: make it quick, the shipping date of Y was dependent on the job starting two weeks back...
Customer: yeah but you can't let us down ok...

24 hours later and still no call. At 1:30 today I stop answering the phone. Idiots. I know what is waiting for me in January and that rogue wave is looking like a great friend and an elegant escape.

I will squeeze in one more post before I say good bye to 2007 so see you then.

Sexy guest post.

Ok folks, make sure you're home alone for this one. I have another anonymous guest post for you. This saucy email came my way from a lady with a thing for the scent of a man.

I can only hope that the author intends on making contact again to organise a painting lesson for me. Enjoy!

He was feeling naughty after I licked the back of his knees, so I decided to tie him, naked and spread-eagled, to the bedposts with scarves. I knelt above him and we kissed passionately. I took off my panties and he strained to touch me, but his hands were tied and I would not let him.

There was a firm paintbrush that came with the chocolate body paint. I lay down in front of him, and spread my legs. He could see that my pussy was already soaking wet from when I was licking his armpits. It was glistening. I spread my moistness around my swollen clitoris and began to rub myself with two fingers lewdly in front of him. His cock stood to attention as I gasped with my own arousal.

Then I got the paintbrush and began stroking myself with the firm, yet soft bristles. I ran the brush with long strokes starting from near my arse all the way to my clitoris. I was unbelievably horny and the amount of slippery moisture in my pussy was unbelievable. With each stroke the brush gathered more juice from my pussy. Then I used shorter and harder strokes over the centre of my arousal over and over again. It felt like a firm but insistent tongue lapping at my clitoris.

He was licking his lips. I took the brush, loaded with the sweet juice from my cunt, and painted his lips. He licked his lips again and when he tasted my juice his cock swelled even more. Gathering more juice from my pussy I began to paint his cock. First of all I used long strokes from the base of his cock to the pink tip. Then I stroked the brush around the head of his cock. He strained at his tethers but I would not release him. Finally I concentrated the harder brush strokes under the tip of his cock, right where he likes it.

I replaced the brush with my tongue, licking around the head of his cock firmly. I could taste juice from his arousal and I needed more. Taking his cock into my mouth I made a firm seal with my lips and gently sucked. Then I moved my lips up and down his shaft while making rhythmic strokes with my hands. He was bucking wildly and groaning and I increased the pace. I kept up the rhythm incessantly and he was nearly climaxing. My own groans of arousal tipped him over the edge and he blew his load deep into my mouth. He tasted amazing and I swallowed deeply, loving the taste of this sexy man.

After I untied him we lay resting on the bed for 15 minutes in each other's arms. After that we got hungry and raided the fridge for some chocolate cake which we smothered in whipped cream from the can and the chocolate sauce.

What floats your boat?

I am always amazed and intrigued by the world we live in and the people that fill it.

I am not going to go into too much detail as to how I found this, except to say it was the typical happy trail of blog to comment to blog to comment to oh my gawd!!!!

For those with a short attention span, the kinks (my typo...) are at the end of this post.

A while back I had some laughs about my testing of the disembodied Gina. Since then I have had some of the real thing and there is no comparison. Gina just does not rate when it comes to witty conversation and being a theatre buddy.

Well it seems that for some folks, a toy is not enough. They are after something a little more permanent in their lives but with none of the feeding or interaction issues you get with a living, breathing human. For these people there are life like, full size sex dolls out there.

I should not be surprised, hell what ever floats your boat right? Masturbation at it's highest level is how I think someone in the film describes it. Freaky verging on necrophilia would have been a much more succinct summary in my book.

The phrase "Only in America" came to mind right up until I heard that Australia is listed as one of the major shipping destinations for this product. Who would have thought that with all this sun, sand and sexy booty, that Australian men would need to resort to a doll? Oh well, the more nutters locked up with their inanimate friends, the more real girls for me and the boys...

Being a practical person some questions soon came to mind. The scary part was the order the questions popped into my head....The engineer in me was asking all sorts of "how" questions before the soft, human side of my brain got over the stroke like paralysis and started screaming for deeper answers about the "why".

So I have to ask, where the hell do you hide a body in your house? Murderers have been dealing with this problem by cutting them up, burying them etc. for years. Obviously if you buy one of these things that is not an option - unless that is your thing but you don't like blood.. but I digress. These things have got to be harder to hide from guests to your home than the dodgy gut busting, thigh master thingy you bought from danoz direct during that last bout of 3am channel surfing.

Maybe the answer is quite simple. If you need the doll, you don't need to hide it.

Then there is the dead root aspect. Now I have never had patience for a lady that is not getting into it during the funky stuff. I would sooner go shopping for souvenir tea towels than bang away with a non responsive chick. This would have to be worse. Sure they have erect nipples, but just because a lady is cold, does not mean you've turned her on.

Some may argue that the doll is there when and where you want it but stopping to manipulate a mannequin into a new position is not ever going to be the same as having a lover suggest something they would like. The silence would be a bummer too, after all what is sex with out giggles, screaming (stifled or window shattering) and the odd fanny fart?

Finally, after all the fucking, sucking, tweaking and fingering you can self initiate, what is sex without both the taste of a real partner and a kiss? Hollow is the word that comes to mind. Kissing is the difference between a wank and making love.

I am not even going to touch the cleaning aspect.

So, if you ever wondered who buys these things, head on over to google video and prepare to be gob smacked for about 45 minutes. If you want to keep your job, this is probably not advised as a work safe bit of viewing.

Alternately, just go to the Real Doll website and order one for Christmas. If you really want some entertaining reading, check out the letters section on their website.

Get your freak on

Anti-social freak
A mate was telling me about how he and his wife play scrabble on the Internet via fartbook. He may be in his office and she might be down stairs watching TV or making dinner. They will call to each other to hurry up or that it is their move. Sometimes they will take turns from the same laptop and will log out, pass the laptop over to the other person, login and play a move, log out....Please Shoot me if I ever do that.

Seriously, I am going to buy them the real thing for Christmas even if I have to steal it from Steph's hands!

Dance Freak
I had the pleasure of a three hour workshop with one of the worlds best west coast swing couples and they were fucking amazing. The guy was smooth as silk and the girl was like Britney when she was young and hot. It was some of the coolest dancing I have seen up close and has given me a target. I will be that good one day...

Along the same lines, I also had my first man dance that night. Sounds a little gehy I know but it was really cool and the ladies seem to really dig a couple of metro-sexual guys swinging each other around the dance floor. I got to play the boy because to be frank, I make a super fugly girl and I have no idea how to follow a lead. I am keen to learn though because it will help improve my dancing.

Still on the whole dancing thing, I also got asked by one of the teachers if I was interested in helping out with some classes as a demo dolly. This is cool for a few reasons,

1) I get to be on stage and show off my groove thang with a hot teacher. Not that I am a fame whore but I am a fame whore and it will be fun!

2) I am a late bloomer when it comes to dancing so it is recognition that I am actually getting to a good standard. I also love to teach stuff so it is a step in that direction where I can see myself going if I ever get good enough.

3) Can we all scream "free dance classes as staff!" Woooo F'n Hooo! This should probably be at number 1 because it will save me a small fortune but I am a fame whore and finding money is easier to achieve..

Adventure freak
More adventures are also afoot. At the risk of narrowing the field for you stalkers out there. I am doing that big yacht race that starts on boxing day in the town with a coat hanger and with some luck will end in a drunken mess on the shores of Hobart town.


As such I am in the middle of bits of running around in preparation as well as our final days of race training over the coming weekend.

Some smart arse once said that to train for a yacht race you just stand in a cold shower and poke $100 notes down the drain. I have to agree but because we have a few sponsors, it is mostly someone else's cash we are burning. Yipee!

I am getting really excited because this is it for ocean racing, many sailors dream of doing this race and never get the chance. 628 Nautical miles of generally bad weather, broken boats and hard racing. It is known as one of the toughest races in the world because of the high winds and steep swells in Bass Strait and the Tasman that pound the yachts on the trip south.

Blog freak
A fellow blogger, Phish, has been interrupted by some stalker so she is going private with her blog. Don't forget to send her an email to get the keys to her chastity belt...er blog. She is always good for a laugh, a cry and a spank of the monkey when she is writing smut.

Another blog thing - the ever sexy Steph and her Supertards awarded me 2nd place for saying something clever about a mate of hers in a banana suit. Here I was taking the piss about her beloved KRudd and I get a podium finish.

Kyoto freak
KRudd is off and running. Our new Pm has done the one thing the Australian public has been cringing about for years. He signed the Kyoto Protocol, leaving the USA as the only major first world country with it's head up it's bum about the reality of climate change.

Don't get me wrong, I am not in love with this guy and his party. I still suspect that for all the social change and love that people are dancing about, those same people will be crying when the wheels fall of out economy. He strikes me as a dangerous little git that i just don't trust.

The good news is that I am not so one eyed when it comes to politics to actually care what badge you are wearing. If I am proven wrong and the new guy does a good job then I will be more than happy with the result. Schools for our kids, hospitals for the sickos, our troops at home and out of harms way, economic and environmental responsibility. That is all I ask.

Your freak
So what are you folks up to in the festive season? Anyone got a cool holiday planned? Going somewhere exotic? Sitting at home playing scrabble on the net rather than talking to the person next to you? Let me know your plans so I can come and crash your party!

Reader beware...

I have been outed folks so it is time for that post...That person has been very cool but this post is for others that may follow and to spell out my own thoughts on the subject.

Blogs are interesting things, if you are reading this then you probably already have that figured out or have been pointed here by someone who stopped reading before the end of this post.

Some bloggers are just out there, you know who they are, what they, their family, their boobs and even vayjayja or pee pee looks like. Others are a little more secretive and only show their boobs, vayjayja or pee pee.

We all talk crap to anyone who will listen and often we are writing for ourself and it does not matter if nobody reads it. It is an outlet for creative and emotional guff that like a bottle floating in the ocean, grows a little island of life around it.

There seems to be two groups of bloggers out there. Those who have offended a friend or family member with a post and those that are going to.

I have often wondered what the reaction would be to some of my posts. They are drawn from real life, the names are changed to protect the guilty and in the telling, the volume is turned up to 11 to set a scene or highlight the best or worst of the action. When I write a post, I turn off the mouth/brain filter. I let the raw thoughts cascade through me and then massage them into a hopefully coherent missive on x, y or z.

The downside to that is that when you are outed, people will attach meaning and pain or joy to the words. The challenge then is how will they deal with it and how do you deal with it?

I have made the decision that for me this is like a diary. I scribble down ideas, moments in time, thoughts and feelings. It is a diary that is left open in a public place and I don't care who reads it but there is one caveat that applies to any diary.

Read it at your own risk and in this case, read it as a work of fiction.

Attaching the real names and places to the stories is dangerous in the way it is dangerous to read a private diary or the private emails of a lover. You will find out stuff you did not need to know, stuff that in knowing will change things at a personal level. Some of it will be for good, some of it will be for the worse.

If you think you know me and choose to read these words with my name attached then you have to do it knowing you may not like what I say, who I do, or just how dark the my inner monkey can be.

As for why I would allow that to happen, well I blame that on you kind folk out there. Your blogs are too funny, inspiring and good to read that I can't help sharing the love with my friends.

Having dropped the name of Miss Smack, Capitan Smack, Kitty, Fingers and Steph to a few friends it was only a matter of time before someone found me in your comments and recognized me.

I am cool with that. If I was not, it would be an invitation only blog or written in a password secured document offline.

Will I change what I write? No. You the reader have the option to turn away, choose not to read. If you think you know who I am, then you have the option to not open the diary on the dresser.

If you do read it then you must respect that here is an anonymous and fictional tale written by someone while naked and uncaring. Enjoy the stories for what they are and take the ride in the same way you would a novel or a movie - draw all the parallels you want with people you know or things in your life but do not hold those people accountable for what happened in the tale as it was told.

If you think you know me do not go running to others with news of the open diary because they to will read it out of context. Keep it as a secret for yourself. I don't need to know that you think you know my dirty secrets or that you think that you have found me.

It is not my reason for doing this. Enjoy it or leave. I don't care, I am happy. Welcome or farewell....