Nasty Nanna

Why the fuck do people presume that because you are at a dance class that you have to dance with them?

Folks there is a serious downside to this dancing caper and it is the scary and nasty nannas you can cop in a class rotation.

I am sad to say that it is not all (but mostly) perky young fun out there.

I got told off tonight buy this old cow because I stepped out at the end of a class for a much needed drink of water and dare I say it, to rest my weary legs.

Now, I know it is not totally cool, and I seldom do it to people but this bitch is just wrong.

She can't dance, she won't follow and I just could not face four minutes of arm wrestling on the floor with someone lacking the flexibility to wipe their own arse without a brush on a stick.

When there was a break for announcements, I made my apologies and bolted for the bar.

As I was sitting there necking a schooner of water (you know the hard stuff) she strode over and gave me a dressing down asking me if it would hurt to just have one song with her? Am I too good for her?

I was fuming. I wanted to get right back in her face;

Actually nanna, I fucking am! If I am working at a venue then sure, I will dance with every person that asks because that is what you do but on my own dime I will dance with who I like to dance with, and politely accept that they too have the right to brush me off if they choose not to dance with me. Get with the program!

Instead I gave some lame excuse about sore knees (had to pick something the old fart could relate too) then had to stand around like a dick rubbing them for the next two songs before picking the youngest hottest dancer to go and rip up the floor to the Black Eyes Peas - Pump It.

I don't think she bought the excuse...

Rock you

This is an intermission in the preceding story. Other stuff has just happened that I am too excited about not to have a moment of grinning.

Those of you who read here know I love my dancing - Yada, yada, yada.

Well I have started competing and tonight just gone was a pretty major event. I was feeling under prepared but ready to have fun.

Obviously we were better prepared than I thought, well that is what the trophy I am looking at says anyhow - 1st place kids. We killed it.

Time for some well earned sleep - at 2:23am :)

It hurts so good.

My feet are bound tight in my Bloch jazz trainers, a bead of sweat is swelling on my brow while another two chase each other down the small of my back.

Head thrown back, the water feels like it is being injected into my veins as soon as it hits the back of my dry throat; a cool wave of hydration that rolls and crashes over my body from under the skin.

I don't think I have drunk so much and pissed so little in my life.

Bringing my eyes back to level I smirk to myself noticing that my foot is still tapping in time with the music despite the ache in my joints and the thigh that threatens to cramp.

As the music builds to the end of the phrase I scan the floor for the best couple to see how they will work the hit - always looking, always hungry for more style and ideas. I count down the beats in my head and cock my head as the guy leads the dip early then snaps his partner back up right on the hit. Her hair flys forward and her head rests on his shoulder. Classy.

As the song fades out I see a pair of hands point towards me and roll outwards, palms facing the ceiling. Her smile in concert with the hands draws me onto the floor.

I don't know her name but she is smooth as silk. I need smooth right now and the song that starts is just right for my mood as well.

Better Than Ezra – Juicy

The first few moves are like sampling a fine wine. There is cascade of sensations that are intoxicating. A splash of enthusiasm mixed with fear of the unknown. The scent of magic yet to be unleashed.

We roll around each other, gently guiding and exploring how the other reacts to the music and our signals. I keep it subtle but firm and it is working well. The smallest pressure and body lead sends her where I want her to go. We are connected in dance and lock smiling eyes.

The pain fades. The aches are forgotten and there is only the two of us moving as one with chests expanded and shoulders back. We are in a ball of colour and the world is grey around us.

Two songs later and we are done for. The weekend has caught up with us and the last schooner of water has been boiled out of my muscles already - it is time for more.

We leave the floor hand in hand like life long lovers and with a gentle squeeze say our thanks for sharing that moment in time. It has meant everything and nothing all at once.

As out fingers part I am dragged back into the present. The pending cramp is back and demanding my attention. My body screams abuse at me and I feel the first mouthful of water evaporate on my tongue in a puff of steam.

Friday seems like a week ago. Counting on my fingers I realise that in the past 42 hours I have been on the dance floor in one form or another for about 28 hours.

I have done kicks, tricks, threesomes and competition styling workshops. I have had an hour of yoga and Tai Chi which hurt as much as anything else but I am sure was the only thing that got me though the two hours of lifts and aerials. Now it is time to stop. My body has quit and wants to go home.

Another pair of hands beckons and I follow my legs onto the dance floor before I even know what is happening.

I smile warmly to a new stranger with soft hands and the most incredible triple spins.....

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!

She's a man eater..

I was looking through the dictionary the other day and found an enlightening entry that got me thinking.

MILF, Acronym; Mothers I'd Like to Fuck - see Stiffler's mom. A teenage fantasy made famous by the film American Pie and any number of online B grade porn sites.


I kept looking for the next entry that I was surprised was not there. MINF, the Mothers I'd Never Fuck.

Now obviously outside of some of those southern states of the USA, your own mother qualifies right away as a MINF so by that logic the acronym should be in use right? But I've never seen it.

Recently I met a MINF and this was what got me thinking along these lines.

As I have mentioned before, I do a fair bit of dancing. The cool thing about dancing is that you can be all sexy and sassy, shake your bits and grind your hips, say thanks and move onto the next girl and do it all again.

It is all the sexy bits with none of the mess or commitment with an unspoken boundary of fair play that ensures no one gets hurt. Now sure, eventually with all this hot and steamy action it will happen that there will be a spark between consenting adults and next thing you know you are swapping bodily fluids in the car park - but that only happens once or twice a week, you can't expect it every night you go out for a dance.

Unfortunately with all this sexual tension, you get the tourists that turn up looking for love. They don't really care about the dancing, so much. They wear way too much make up and perfume and are dressed as if off to a year 10 formal or worse still a B&S at Wagga Wagga - and this is just the guys. The girls can be really scary.

Normal mid week classes aren't too bad but it is the dance parties and socials on weekends when it gets really messy. It isn't a school night, the MILFs and MINFs tend to avoid church on a Sunday and most have shipped their kids off to the ex-hubbie or worse still have just left them at home with the current hubbie and are looking for a pants party.

Now when I had a GF, this all just passed blissfully over my head. Sure I saw the blood red lipstick and the plunging décolletage and the batting shag me eyes, but I had an inoffensive out to the common question "so are you here by your self" - well no actually see the 5' 7, 46kg blond grinding away over there, she is taking me home again tonight, sorry, maybe next week...

Things have changed. I have lost my polite excuse and am now at the other end of the food chain and it is not a nice place to be at times.

Which brings me to my recent scary moment and bit of blog fodder.

Normally for a bit of fun at the weekend dance parties they will quickly teach a few close moves late in the night so that people looking for an excuse to get close and cuddly can do it under the pretense of leaning a new move or two.

Now depending on the mood and the people teaching these can be really racy moves and you need to know your partner reasonably well or just want to get into their pants. You are going to be close and to look good it has to be steamy.

Anything else and it is as awkward as watching you aunt Mavis pretend she is Fergalicious against uncle Arthur. Welcome wrong town with a population of two.

So this night I was going to sit it out. The person I would have liked to have done it with was not there and the quick demo made it obvious I could not just ask anyone to do it. The unspoken vibe is that if I guy asks a strange girl to do a close moves class then his is obviously either a bit creepy or wanting a shag, the girls however seem to be able to ask anyone - go figure.

There was a tap on my shoulder and there she was a MINF. Presentable, under 50 but trying way to hard and as harsh as it sounds just not what I am looking for. With big brown eyes challenging me to reject her she asked if I would do the class with her.

"I was going to sit it out, got to change my shirt, I'm all sweaty right now.." I tried to say.

"Don't worry about that, sweaty is goood" she drawled.

Run away my brain screamed! Danger Will Robinson, Danger!

"Um....ok..." I said. It is good clean fun, it is not like she has two heads or anything.

The first move was nice and easy, some close quicksteps, spinning around each other. My right hand nice and secure up on her shoulder blade while her hand was allowed to wander lower down my back - did she just tap my ass???

Second move, turn her out and wind her back and around into a wrap and a couple of nice little CJ's stepping back and forth, our faces are only an inch apart and her eyes are blasting hole through to the back of my scull - man that is intense. My nostrils are being stripped raw by the perfume she bathed in before coming out for the night. It is starting to feel like a bad idea.

Third move, two options, unwind her and wrap her in front of me and control the following grind or wrap her in behind me and let her drive. I think I'll take option one so I can see what is happening.

As she rolls in front I end up close behind her, my arms wrapping around to her front and gently holding her arms crossed over her tummy. We gently rock left and right in time with the music as my left hand brings her left hand up to the side of her head for a sexy little glide down her hair, over her shoulder and bust and back to the hips.

This is all supposed to be done with her hand on her body and my hand on top. I am not supposed to cop a feel here, it is supposed to look dirty without being dirty but then it all goes wrong.

With each little roll of the hips, left then right and left again, she is pushing back into me harder and harder. As I bring her hand up to her face she leans her head back into me. I can't see the look on her face but a friend of hers sitting on the side of the dance floor is now laughing so I gather she is putting on quite the show of lusty enjoyment.

Guiding her hand down her neck and she deftly slips her hand out from under mine and squeezes my hand under hers as we hit her shoulder. As we rock to the right again my hand is pressed over her collar bone and onto the full left breast and dragged over a nipple that feels like the rock of Gibralta. Moments later and I am fighting to keep on track for the hip, she seems determined to go via another route.

Abort, Abort, Abort!!!!!

I make it to the hip and manage a controlled body roll before a nice little hip spin to gain some separation. She smiles at me like a Hyaena and squeezes my hand. Her friend who was watching has nearly slipped of her seat she is laughing so hard. I can feel by cheeks burning. This was not what I was looking for tonight.

We have a few more run practices of the mini routine and each time there is a fight over who's hand goes on top and where it visits. She wants to try the version where she is behind and in control but I just don't want to risk it. There are too many people watching as it is and I want them to dance with me later on rather than be scarred by the show she seems determined to put on.

The class finishes with a last run through then into the rest of the song to do with as we please. The lights go down and I am praying for the music to end so I can beat my retreat.

As the song fades out she rushes in for a big hug.."Thanks so much, that was great fun...Another song?"

"Um, Really need to change this shirt" I mutter.

"Ok, then maybe later?"

"Um maybe." I say glancing around the room for a 5' 7, 46kg blond to pretend is my GF...Hell I'll even take my XGF back right now if she is here.

"Say where do you normally dance?" she asks expectantly.

"Oh, this is my last night ever..I go into a monastery in the morning, in fact I have to go press and pack my robes...cya!"

This time at dance camp...

First to some business! Boys, get your cocks out on the Penis Secret page! There is only two there and you've gotta give the girls something to look at after the nice job they are doing on Miss Smacks page! I've done my bit so get on with it!

Some things in life are very special. Dancing is one of them.

Now I could be talking about the horizontal mambo here but that is a slightly different sport. This post is actually about the close and intimate conversation two people can have over a piece of music using not much more than good eye contact and a solid frame.

If there is one thing I have to thank an ex GF for is for introducing me to dance.

I did not dance. I would not dance at a wedding, I would not tea bag at a club. I was sure I had no rhythm and that everyone would be watching an laughing at my Steady Eddie impersonations.

Now this is odd for me because I am actually self confident in just about any other situation. I am also highly competitive to the point that some may consider it a character flaw. Dancing however, dancing just scared me.

This GF was a great dancer (at both types of dancing too) and we made a bet. In short I lost and had to go to a dance class. In two lessons I was hooked. Now my judgement may have been clouded here because it was obvious the teacher wanted to shag her senseless (indeed he eventually did hence the EX status, BITCH) but while delaying the inevitable I fell in love with dancing.

This weekend had proved that I may need to be medicated. It was confirmed that I suffer from OCD - obsessive compulsive dancing. I signed up do a weekender of routines, workshops, musicality and performance/style tips.

Logic would have said that with a full weekend of dancing on the books, I should have rested up but oh no. I danced on Monday, Tuesday and Thursday nights before starting the weekend with a quick warm up class on Friday night and then free styling until 1am. I also had a climb on Wednesday night because that is when I see my non dancing friends...

A lot of people go dancing lessons to pick up. You can see them from a mile away. There are also a lot of people that just go to dance. I am the latter. This weekend was always going to be a challenge because it had all the ingredients for a wild time. Hot and sweaty dancing with some close moves to get sexy, dorm style accommodation just like a school camp except with alcohol to lubricate things and to confuse which bed was actually supposed to be yours.

Now this dancing is modern Jive, in some ways made famous by the film dirty dancing. It is not as rigid as say ballroom or as strict in the footwork as Salsa and as such can be danced to just about any modern music as well as the classics. Get a 3/4 waltz and your pretty fucked but other than that, it is all good. Think black eyed peas "Pump it" through to some smoky smooth Michael Buble and that is the sort of music you can work to easily.

The biggest thing is eye contact. A lot of people find it confronting at first and indeed, the contact is deep. There is a fine line between fun and creepy when six inches from a strangers face and staring into their soal. Being a partner dance, the guy has to do a lot of work. Remembering moves and leads ahead of time to keep it on beat and find those hits in the music so you can let the girl play or nail a dip or lean. The best guys make it look effortless and the best girls can move in ways that would make their mothers blush.

The amazing thing is that if you get a good connection with your partner and you as the guy have a strong lead, you can get most girls, even beginners through some really nice moves and have a lot of fun. To quote Patrick Swayze, "Look, spaghetti arms. This is my dance space. This is your dance space. I don't go into yours, you don't go into mine. You gotta hold the frame." It makes all the difference.

All in all I think I did about 6 hours on Friday, 14 hours on Saturday! and another 7 hours on Sunday. My ex was there and snogged the fattest man on earth which made me not sure if I should laugh or cry. He is a great dancer but Ewwwww!

I stayed suitably alouf and non committal while flirting like a champion with some very hot women.

I got home, had a shower and slept form 5pm until 1am and here I am blogging for a few hours and hoping I can get back to sleep before I get up to go to work.

You know the really dumb thing? It is 2.50 am and I will be back on a dance floor tonight at about 8pm until 11pm. Fecking nuts!

You should feel my arse right now - buns of steel!