My ex and I had several conversations through text tonite…all about My son.  He was living at the house after his treatment for drug addiction..has been there say 9 months I’d guess.  He signed an agreement in return for living FREE and in comfort there….NO DRUGS or OUT!

He applied to a local hardware chain last week…had the job (I guess)  But had to go in one more time….for a drug screen.  I think you can figure out the results…and why I am sitting here..upset.. in My empty apartment ‘cept for furniture and a stocked kitchen with an over priced Carmel High Rise coffee.

I (we when we were married) raised him with what we thought were good values and rules.  I DON’T UNDERSTAND!

His mother…with My blessing…kicked him out of the house tonite.  Money has been disappearing, food taken.  My daughter has to hide her purse and things so they don’t go missing.  I found out the ex has been hiding her jewelry when she goes away????  WTF???

Oh there’s more…but this is a blog about kink and gems…right??

And why…why does it feel like… everything in My life has been turned upside down?  How did I get here?  Why is everything  falling apart?

This rant is coffee induced…plain ‘ole coffee…foo foo coffee.  The $5.00 variety….

And the new year held SUCH promise….FUCK!  Just ask Me!  Just ask would you?

oh the memories!  Big sigh

Click to view slideshow.

(STOP PICKING AT IT OR YOU’LL NEVER HEAL)

So clever He thought Himself…His 2 & 1/2 reason chirade…and then it began….the bleeding

I wonder…is she somewhere else as she rides His cock?  her arms locked and crossed tightly between shoulder blades with rough unforgiving Sissel.  female breath…labored due to the tightly framed breasts…she fights to keep up with her lungs need…balancing the growing need for permission to come

I listen to T/them through My apartment walls and remember.  I listen to her muffled moans and think…must be a panel gag.

I hear faint slaps and the  resulting muffled squeels…her pain pleasure…her pain His pleasure…

Feeling her heat…warm and moist…tightening around His shaft…explosion.

My bed cold except for the indentation where I lay (lie)

Broken rules with no ending…perhaps His lie was too perfect

But thanks for the memory
Of every touch a thrill
I’ve been through the mill
I’ve lived a lot and learned a lot
You loved me not and still
I miss you so much

Thanks for the memory
Of letters I destroyed
Books that we enjoyed
Tonight the way things look
I need a book by Sigmund Freud
How brainy he was

I know it’s a fallacy
That grown men never cry
Baby, that’s a lie
We had our bed of roses
But forgot that roses die
And thank you so much

Now….I think I’m done….

A former employer calls Me out of the blue this morning.  Just for the heck of it “to say hello and see what I’m up to” were His words.  Maybe that move out West isn’t too far away….

quote stolen from blueholiday’s “fetlife” profile

You might come here Sunday on a whim.
Say your life broke down. The last good kiss
you had was years ago. You walk these streets
laid out by the insane, past hotels
that didn’t last, bars that did, the tortured try
of local drivers to accelerate their lives.
Only churches are kept up. The jail
turned 70 this year. The only prisoner
is always in, not knowing what he’s done.

-Richard Hugo (excerpt from “Degrees of Gray in Philipsburg”)

Three gal pals eyed Him up upon His grand entrance into the bar.  One of the 3…the loudest…and the least (you get His meaning…right?) prepared her approach.

Drunk and sloppy (He hates that in a woman) 
What are you drinking?  Let me buy you a drink?

Ice tea thank you..(He isn’t interested by any means)  His head elsewhere…the wounded hunter. 
She introduces herself as His bartender notices His arm tatt and inquires.  Huh?  Nancy?  Oh, nice to meet you.  Come here often?  (oh Jesus)  Santa?
The tatt means Master/slave He educates the bartender lady…she eyes Him up…Nancy wants to buy you a drink Master Wounded Hunter..what’ll it be?

I really just want a steak… Oh hell I’ll have hemlock
Leave Me alone nancy…go sit with your old gal pals.  Casey (prettiest old gal pal with fake lips) spots a young man across the bar.  The Master Wounded Hunter overhears her comment.  “come here and sit between my legs…there’s plenty of room”

That one makes Him laugh!  Jesus…Santa?  I just want My steak please…I want it back. 
Hey nancy…I’m not interested…not now
Medium please…and His head is elsewhere.

It all seems so pathetic…good night ladies