On newstands now!!


Well, oops. Haha. They only printed about a third of what I remember writing. Plus, they made me sound like an undersexed prudish woman who would rather chew off her own arm than have sex.

Damnit.

For the record, I like to have sex MUCH, MUCH more than once a month. MUCH MORE. If I ever say I only want it once a month, than there IS something wrong with me.

Damnit.

My favorite parts is when they rhyme "trust" with "bust" and "freaky" with "eat me".

Get Naked
by Methods Of Mayhem


77 million dollars made from watchin' me cum
Under the sun on my vacation (after hours on Spectravision)
Shootin' my jizzy jizzum
The woody has rizzy rizen
I ain't gettin' paid to entertain your bridal showers
Rockin' my porno tape for hours'n'hours
Clitoris's are fearin me it's bigger than Ron Jeremy

Cause it's them ass cheeks that make my ass weak
And I've been runnin' with the blueballs since last week
So if you ask me I'll be glad to speak after we get butt naked
And break it down with NASTY!

(Chorus):
Get, Get Naked
Come on baby make it hot
Get Get Naked
Ride the cock til you hit the spot
Get Get Naked
Come on baby make it hot
Get Naked

Roof roof
Doin' it doggy style
Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
Bow wow yippy yo yippy yay
Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
Bow wow yippy yo yippy yay


The little Geisha ho from tokyo who said she
Could blow ten dollas love me long time in a limo
For really doh
I'm just try in to fly with the flows freak up some hos
Blow up the shows make a little dough-ho
As if you didn't know back to the strip club freakin' up some ho-ho's
Swingin' my dingaling it ain't no thing

It's those intergalatic ho's who come down in those
Space probes five green hyenas
Representin with no clothes
Mix Master Mike, Mix Master Mike
Makin' the pussy tight
No jimmy no gimme no lust
In the Methods of Mayhem we trust!
Its a must so rip off yer clothes and expose yer BUST!

Cause it's them ass cheeks that make my ass weak
And I've been runnin' with the blueballs since last week
So if you ask me I'll be glad to speak after we get butt naked
And break it down with NASTY!

Chorus

You only Love me when you want punanny

Queen bitch red lipstick
The all black harlot call me black Barbie
Fuck a blow job it's a motherfuckin' hobbie
Under 7 inches... uhh sorry
Minute men I can't fuck wit them
I like to ride the cock till you hit the spot
Uhh come on baby make it hot
Got a convertable drop the top
Before we do a thing I want the diamonds and the rings
The furs the minks
the jewels the links
You know I'm freaky
so ya got to eat me
and uh I know you hate it but uh
GET NAKED!

You ain't lickin' this
You ain't stickin' this we don't want the dick

Fuck the dumb games you girls that complain
And I ain't leavin' until you're sleepin on the cum stains
(Repeat)

Chorus

"Animals Get Eaten More Than We Do," Say Nude Women

Even after a troubled sleep last night, and feelikg like ass this morning, that song still manages to make me happy.

Some of my restlessness last night had to do with a conversation I had with my boss yesterday:

Me: Hey, guess what? (I was just going to tell her some work related news about a conference I am organizing for September).

Her: What? Oh my god. What? Is it bad news? Are you leaving? If you're leaving, I'll fucking kill you.

*gulp*

That eventually led to thoughts of my interview on Friday. Though I am not as excited about this job as I was about my current one, this job would be highly convinient, logistically speaking, so in that sense, I really have a hunger for this job.

The last reason I was up all night is that last weekend, I pulled a muscle in my foot while walking on the beach with my sistah, and it fucking HURTS. It's on the fleshy part of hurt, so it doesn't hurt, unless I walk. Ha. This is problem considering it is my main source of transportation. It's not so bad that I can't walk, but by the end of last night, after an evening on my feet, my little foot was screaming.

Speaking of small things making bit noises, I think Sexy may have swallowed a chainsaw. That's the only explanation I can think of for the ghastly purring that comes out of the little beast. The happier she is, the louder it gets, and she's mighty happy when I'm trying to sleep.

My morning coffee is kicking in, so I've lost some of my will to rant and rave. I have to get ready for a teleconference I'm having this afternoon. I will write again before the end of the day, though. No fear!

In celebration of my 300th post, I bring you something that will probably only be interesting to 1 other person!

I'm sorry, but I just couldn't make it to 300. If I ever wanted to post again, I had to stick to 100.


1. He has a monster throbbing manhood. Ha.
2. He has big brown eyes a girl could get lost in.
3. He acted out a scene from the Matrix the day we met.
4. He looks really good in a suit.
5. He writes cute things like "Am" instead of "I'm".
6. He has nice, big hands.
7. He smells good. Usually.
8. I can always rely on him to make me laugh.
9. He can stand my family for more than a few hours.
10. He's weird, but a good kind of weird.
11. He comments on my blog.
12. He gives the best hugs.
13. He has nice long arms that can wrap around me.
14. He makes me feel beautiful.
15. He makes sure I don't take myself too seriously.
16. He has a good job.
17. He is ambitious.
18. I win at almost every game I play with him.
19. He helps me do dishes.
20. He's a good cook.
21. He slows down for me when we walk together.
22. He holds my hand.
23. He kisses me in public.
24. He has a very good vocabulary.
25. He helps me with my French.
26. He makes me feel loved.
27. He is considerate.
28. He is a man.
29. He let me look at his childhood photo albums.
30. He carries my suitcase for me, even if it's too short for him.
31. He shaved off his moustache after I said I didn't like them (maybe that isn't the reason, but I still think it's cute).
32. He makes a great first impression.
33. He makes a great second impression, too.
34. And third....
35. He is gentle...
36. ... and rough.
37. He can do really great impressions.
38. Three words: Best Sex Ever.
39. He is passionate.
40. He is an outdoorsman.
41. He giggles when he farts.
42. He appreciates my breasts.
43. He is clean.
44. He is more travelled than me.
45. He is supportive.
46. He buys me flowers.
47. His mom is really nice.
48. So is his Dad.
49. He is a good dresser.
50. He has really nice hair.
51. I can trust him.
52. He is pretty good with computers.
53. He is a good driver.
54. He appreciates the fine things in life.
55. He's cocky enough to suggest I write 300 things I like about him.
56. He is a Scorpio. Many people close in my life are Scorpios: Can't be a bad sign.
57. He is open.
58. He likes to walk.
59. He likes animals.
60. He's good with kids.
61. He knows more about domestic duties than I do.
62. We can talk a lot to each other.
63. We can go an hour without saying anything, and it's okay.
64. He has waited for me.
65. The night we met, I couldn't sleep. Not a wink.
66. He remembers dumb things I say.
67. He snores, sometimes, but not as bad as me.
68. He makes for a good human snowplow.
69. Hm. I should put something dirty here.. He is.... experimental.
70. He is exciting.
71. He is considerate.
72. I love his laugh.
73. He sometimes acts like a 4 year old boy.
74. He is likeable.
75. He is constantly surprising me.
76. He likes Tom Jones.
77. He watched the Survivor finale with my family.
78. He won our bet, but wouldn't take money from my parents.
79. He is responsible.
80. He can pitch a tent.
81. He's really cute when he gets excited.
82. He's got an eye for interior decorating.
83. I always have fun with him.
84. I have done things with him I have never done with anyone.
85. He likes the Simpsons.
86. After awhile, he started like the Family Guy, too.
87. He even acted out a scene. And it was really funny. I won't tell you which one, though.
88. He trusts me enough to leave me alone in his room.
89. He is articulate.
90. He makes me feel nervous. The good nervous.
91. He's not self-conscious.
92. He is enthusiastic.
93. He is a good gift buyer.
94. He can speak more than one language fluently.
95. He is strong.
96. He's got good timing.
97. He makes a girl feel wanted.
98. He feels really good to cuddle with.
99. He is laid back.
100. He is *MINE!*

After a close call in Truro, my sistah and my parents finally made it to my place. Tan (aka Sistah) taught me that the reason Sexy hates her harness is because I've been putting it on the WRONG WAY. Once she's in it, the correct way, she's actually quite comfortable. I may be able to walk her around yet!

Also, I've taught Sexy how to fetch. I think she enjoys it. We played it for about an hour Saturday night. Fetch is a pretty convenient game in that I don't actually have to do anything, unless her ball gets stuck somewhere that she can't get at it.

Oh, one piece of cat-related news. I think Sexy is, at least partially, a bombay cat. She has the copper eyes and shiny coat and all the other characteristics there. She's probably not pure bred or anything, but there's definitely some Bombay in her.

Besides the potential new job, and all that entails, I've been pretty boring lately. I've been pretty focused on work this morning, though my mind has been drifting off into the FUTURE. When I get back to Moncton, there's a few volunteering ventures I'd like to get back into, and I'm fantasizing about some of my old haunts I'd like to..well, re-haunt, I guess. It's all very exciting, n'est ce pas?

Hm. I got one of my co-workers to buy me some Root Beer at lunch because she was going out. I haven't had any coffee today, so I thought some pop would re-caffeinate me. However, I just noticed that Mug Root Beer does not have caffeine! Shocker! I don't really care if it does't or it doesn't, but I'd rather not have known, as any placebo effect I had has now went *poof*.

So, this week and next week are three-day work-weeks for me. Hazzah! After being here in SH for so long at a time, I think I'm going to have some separation anxiety with Sexy. I'll be leaving her alone for 6 days. That might be rough. Probably more for her than for me, though.

I'm also working on something for Naughty Blog. I'm finding it surprisingly difficult to write erotica (who would have guessed?), but I'm working on it...

Hey, my next post is going to be my THREE HUNDREDTH post. Any topic suggestions? I think I should celebrate it somehow....

I remember back in December, just before I came here, I was blessed with loads of good fortune: I just met a wonderful, wonderful guy, I finally got to speak with my idol, and I also had an interview for me (...seemingly) dream job.

Now, 7 months later, good things are happening to me again. I'm appearing the in the same magazine as my idol (and yes, this is more of a 'neat' thing, than a 'good' thing, it still earns a mention), and I once again have an interview. Though I probably wouldn't consider it a "dream job", I've learned that that term isn't a reliable term to begin with, when it comes down to it. The job I'll be interviewing for next week has lots of concrete pros that this job doesn't have. Though I will very much miss my "sexual health educator" business cards, it is probably the only thing I will miss.

So, everyone think happy thoughts for me, okay?

In the excitement of returning home, I've let it slip to a few people that I won't be here after October. So far, they have been acquaintances, not coworkers.

Today, though, one of my coworkers told me (confidentially) that she is considering taking a job she was offered. She wanted to confide in someone, and I was the only one around. She wanted an opinion, and just to get everything out of her head. In turn, I shared my news with her. It felt really good. Mainly, it felt good because she is a coworker - she knows the cast of characters, and she knows all the factors involved. She knew they would have a hard time keeping me here, so she wasn't all that shocked. Plus, she was happy for me, that I was returning to good things. What a relief. It was the first time I was able to articulate why I was leaving, I why took the job in the first place. Essentially: If I knew then what I know now...


It seems a bit more real now, too. I was inexplicably touchy and upset last night about this whole thing. When I left to come here, I found myself in a similar dichotomous situation as I find myself now. It's not nearly the same, though. The decision has been infinitely easier to make this time.

I guess my frustration comes from not being able to have my cake and eat it too. I will have my cake, and eat hi- erh.. it, but I think I will have to find another recipe for the icing.

I don't think that makes sense to anyone but me. Hm. Now I'm hungry.

And not for the Naughty Blog!

And not on the cover, either.

BUT.

It's still very exciting.

AND.

It'll be something ELSE I have in common with my idol. She appeared in the magazine a few months ago (I bought it, of course).

Anyway, thanks to my good friend, Jana, who showed me the article I commented/blogged about last week, I also wrote a comment on the MacLeans website. I just got an email today saying they are interested in publishing my letter! Woo!

The funny thing is that if anyone reads MacLeans here in SH, EVERYONE will know who I am, ha.

If you haven't already, check out Naughty Blog.


On the non-erection related front, I have a computer problem. Blogger, in trying to make things better, added a bunch of formatting options. That's nice. Except, now, I can't see any of them. All these changes are IE 5.5 approved. My problem is that whenever I try to update, I get error messages whenever I try to install the files I download from the MS Windows Update page.

Can anyone help? I have to do all my formatting (including web links, etc) by hand now, and it's annoying.

The beer is a nice touch, don't you think?

Sarah and I should get married. I'm the idea girl, she's the.. uhm... make-it-happen girl.

Either way, we rock.

Sarah rocks more, though. She created Naughty Blog) which is a joint project between me, her, PSMC, my sistah, and, well, anyone else who would like to join. It will be a colloborative erotic novel(lla). We accept all genders, etc, etc. Let me/us know, and we can send you an invite. I think it will be a really fun Summer project, especially if we can get lots of people involved, so, tell all your blogging friends!!

I can't believe I have to stay here for another weekend. Things just keep getting stranger and stranger.

I've Seen the Inside of the Town's Only Jail Cell

Yup, that's right. As I dozed in my bed at 9:00 am on Saturday morning, petting my kitten and enjoying the sunshine, I got a telephone call. It was my good friend Officer Troy from the local R.C.M.P. detachement. I've met Troy once before. He came to my house to get a statement from me - for a crime that was never committed. For those of you that don't recal, my excitable landlord called the cops because one of my doors was left unlocked for a weekend and the door blew open. My landlord thought that someone must have broken in, even though there was no one in my house (the doors allowing access into my house were locked, but the one to the porch was the one that blew open), and nothing was taken, and nothing was amiss. However, they took fingerprints, and some other things that were on my porch to gather prints and DNA evidence. For fucks sake.

Back to the phone call. Troy told me that they need to get my fingerprints now to determine if the fingerprints they did find were indeed mine. Well, I could tell you right now, YES. Anyway, not one to be difficult, I said yes. He asked me when I could come. I told him I had company arriving from out of town that afternoon, so it would have to be after that. As it turns out, he wanted me to come in right away. He asked me if he woke me up (uhm, HELLO?? It's 9 am on a Saturday. Of course you woke me up, jerk.). So, off I go. It was pretty hot outside by the time I dressed and made my way down there. He brought me in to the station (that's just what I need.. the community to see me going in there.. but I digress). He led me to the jail cell. I gotta say, I was a little nervous. One of the things they took out of my porch contained some.. well.. incriminating evidence, and I thought for a few moments I might be put into the slammer. Of course, I was just being paranoid. Troy took my prints. For those of you that don't know, fingerprinting ink is hard to get off, even with the special soap they provide. I had ink on me for the rest of the day. Troy asked me what I wanted done with the prints, after they were sent to the lab. He told me they could be distroyed, kept on file, or I could have them. Hell ya! I'm getting that puppy framed. Maybe I'll get a mugshot of myself, too.

So, that was Saturday morning. Good times.

Saturday afternoon, my aunt and her new husband arrived, with lots of booty for me (new patio chairs and a coffee table, both of which I got for my birthday, plus some odds and ends, namely my GST cheque. Woo.). After some small talk and a few drinks, I took them around town, which took all of 10 minutes. We stopped at the "Visitors Center" and walked along the walking path. Highlights included the man-made rapids, and the walking path that had no railings, on the age of previously mentioned man-made death rapids. Oh, and there was a bridge. That was sort of pretty.

"I Have to Poop"

After the tour, we went for supper at the marginally nicer of the 2 restaurants here (if you don't count the hospital cafeteria and the 2 take-outs house in converted camper-trailers). After supper, it was back home for more drinks. Oh, and crazy people. One of my landlords (many) brothers stopped in to say hi. His name is Keith. Now, Keith stopped in unannounced a few weeks ago. I had just gotten in for the weekend, so I was a little frazzled. I was just wearing a small tank top (hello titties) and was trying to unpack, pay attention to my kitty, and check phone messages, when he showed up. See, his mother used to live in the house I am renting, so he wanted to take a look around. He talked about how much he missed her, etc, etc. He eventually left, but he was a little creepy. So, he was back. This time we brought along his granddaughter.

I don't like kids.

She came in and wanted to see my cat. Then she refused to come back outside where we were all sitting (my house is NO PLACE for a young child...). Eventually she came back out. Keith was smoking with my aunt and her husband. I think it was the longest cigarette ever. He just KEPT TALKING. He smoked the cigarette PAST THE FILTER. His granddaughter also had this mosquito bites on her eyes, and I just couldn't look at it cuz it was gross. After a bit, she pulled on the arm of Keith and whispered in his year "I have to poop". Oh, supper. Keith asked me if that was okay. Well, of course it was.. I didn't want kid-poop on my new patio furniture.

So, I led her inside and showed her the bathroom. She pulled down her pants in front of me. Woah. So I said "how's about I just shut the door..".. She yelled "I DON'T LIKE HAVING THE DOOR SHUT WHEN I POOP." Well, uhm, okay. So, she sat on the cat, petting my cat with her dirty, germ ridden hands. She finished (I assume), pulled up her britches, then picked up my cat and walked out. I went into the washroom to find little poos and some tissue paper.

Eeeeuuuch.

So, after I once again insisted that we go outside, her grandfather asked if he could use my facilities. Now, normally I wouldn't be such a bathroom nazi, but he lives across the river. I can see his house from my porch, and it is about a 1 minute drive. So, unless he was planning on sticking around for a while...

Jesusmaryandjoseph. NO.

Not to mention, this particular gentlemen has seen way more of my anatomy than I would care for - not to mention the thong and leopard print underwear that was currently hanging off my clotheline, attached to my porch. This guy has seen way to much of personables, and I really don't want him going through my bathroom where he could possibly collect hair samples.

I begrundingly let him in my house. I figured at the very least he would flush the child-poop for me. Thankfully, he closed the door.

So, eventually, after about 10 more minutes of mindless chatting about insurance and the government, he left.

Then came the music.

I hesitate writing about this, because it makes me sound like an old fart. However, there was incessant hip-hop music (with extra bass, please) until 3am. I wouldn't mind it that much, but I had company, so I felt pretty bad.

I better finish off this mammoth post. This weekend has cemented in my head that I need to get outta here. Yeesh.

Today, I bring you the Top 10 Women's Sexual Fantasies. Before I bring you it, though, I have to say, that I hate it when people call a penis "manhood" or "member". It sounds so stupid. Use dick or cock or, well, penis.. Just stop with the euphemisms.

Drumroll please....

Of course, I don't really agree with list. That is, I don't really agree with the order. And there is only one that I would leave out of my list... (#2).

So, here's my version of the list:

My #1) 1
My #2) 3
My #3) 10
My #4) 6
My #5) 8
My #6) 4
My #7) 5
My #8) 7
My #9) 9
My #10) Just to round out the list.. Probably outdoor sex. Not necessarily out in the open, like at a concert or anything... but, you know.. the great outdoors. (Edit: After a few hours of thinking about this some more, I'd also like to add Train Sex and Messy Sex (with, like, pudding and stuff...)

Anyone else care to share?

Via LYD, I bring you:

"I gave my cat an enema."

This is a great little story with illustrations. I urge you to read it, all the way down to the bottom.

Or that's what drug companies would have me think.

According to this article from MacLeans, (thanks, Jana!) a woman may qualify as dysfunctional if she

- has chronic, or even occasional, trouble becoming aroused
- if she has difficulty achieving orgasm -- or if she's never had one
- if she experiences any sort of pain during intercourse
- if she's the type who'd just rather eat chocolate and do her nails

As for Number 1... Well, sure, I've had moments where I just wasn't into it. These times have been EXTREMELY RARE, and were usually under extreme circumstances, but nonetheless..

As for Number 2.. Geez.. Orgasms are a LOT of work. Sometimes I'm just lazy. It's not that I'm not having a good (even great) time, it's that sometimes, I just don't want to, or I'm distracted, or I feel ugly.

As for Number 3.. I feel if you DON'T experience any sort of pain during intercourse, you ain't doin' it right (at least, sometimes).

And finally.. Most of you know, I'm not in the least "this type of girl", but there have been some times.... Not RECENTLY mind you, but in the past, sure.

So, what does this mean? If you read over Erectile Dysfunction (ED)inventories (which I happen to have in my office), you can tell where they got the FSD (female sexualy dysfunction) from. They assume that if we, as women, aren't cumming and fucking at every waking moment, then we are somehow abnormal.

Now, again, I must prelude this with my own individual biases. I believe I am probably left of center when it comes to sex. I DO like sex whenever, whereever, however. I also realize that most women I know aren't necessarily like me. The peaks and valleys or their libido are must more dramatic and my own, relatively constant, peak.

However, the way I see it is: If you're okay, I'm okay. If you're happy with your libido, and your sex life, however grand or miniscule it may be, then who has the authority to write you a prescription to change that?

Okay, but what if you aren't happy with our sex life? Is there something out there that will help you? A pill? A spray? Kegel exercises? I say, emphatically, NO!

'This is more or less the conclusion that Pfizer, the maker of Viagra, seems to have reached several months ago. The company had been testing its drug on women, but then officially pulled out of the FSD race, conceding that Viagra worked only with men. (In fact, most women felt more improvement with the placebo than the drug. At least it didn't cause headaches and hot flushes.) Female sexual disorders, Pfizer's researchers concluded, are "far more complex than male erectile dysfunction."'

Remember folks: Women are not rats. Just because Dr. SoandSo developed a nasal spray that works on rats, it doesn't mean it will work on Ms. Mary Housewife. I wager that rats don't have mortages, bad hair days, bloating, nagging mothers, and The O.C.

That's not to say that Erectile Dysfunction is a simple problem. Actually, yes it is. Just look at the name. It's not called "Male Sexual Dysfunction" is it? The problem is with the penis, period. Once you get the right hormones and blood flow happening, problem solved (usually).

But, as this is the point of this post, is that "Female Sexual Dysfunction" is a huge misnomer. If this 'dysfunction' is a dysfunction (and only the patient can truly diagnose that), then it is simply way too complicated a thing to be treated through drugs alone.

(Again, in no particular order, so chill, okay?.)

1. There is something about me that small children hate. A 3 year-old boy punched me in the face, for no apparent reason.

2. I loooove campfires.

3. After much waffling, and trying to convince myself otherwise, I don't like it here.

4. My cat is a reincarnated soccer prodigy.

5. My boyfriend is fan-fucking-tastic. He makes me happy. \m/
(and I'm not just writing that because I know he'll probably read this)

6. Any mistakes I make in cooking, I only make once.

7. I have no confidence in myself when it comes to my job.

8. I like to sweep.

9. Kahlua + Joan of Arcadia = One exciting evening.

10. Home renovation shows make me cry.

11. I hate pulp. Oh dear GOD how I hate pulp. I accidentally bought some with EXTRA pulp, so now I drink it with my teeth clenched to strain out the pulp. It's gross because at the end of the drink there is this soupy mess of gross pulp at the bottom of the glass.

12. I can sometimes get into moods where all I do is think negatively about things. I have to watch out for the times and lock myself way or something.

13. I have a lot more food in my cupboards than I thought.

14. Saturday is NOT good day to buy groceries in SH. Produce only comes on Tuesday, so on Saturday, you're lucky to find any of sort of vegetable. This SUCKS.

15. People don't like me here and like to tear down my signs advertising my workshops.

16. There are a bunch of people living in a house down the road from me and they fight outside. Makes me feel like I'm living in the city.

17. One of my worst fears about myself lately is that I'm not very interesting. I think this is like the time that I thought that I had Down Syndrome and no one would tell me.

18. Britney Spears is a 'ho. I saw a special she had on the movie channel, and it was gross. It's okay if Madonna does it because everyone expects of her. With Britney, you know there are 11 year old girls (and boys) in the audience who are confuses, and 41 year old men who are jacking off.

19. The damn blackflies here are immune to DEET. Damnit.

20. A lot of the skills I thought I had, I don't, and the ones that I didn't think I was good at, I am. This, at this time in particular, is pretty confusing.

Well, maybe not.

I was going to write some profound reflection piece on how much I feel I've changed as a person in the last year, but then I realized it's almost the weekend and now all I can think about is drinking and fucking.

Hm. Guess I haven't changed nearly as much as I thought.

I want to go home, blast some music, and drink Kahlua. That's not my usual drink, but my boss was talking about it earlier and now I want some. I think I'll go to the liquor store after work, then the grocery store. I actually have money now, which is nice. Sexy needs litter, and I need... Kahlua.

Savings account: $4.00
Chequings account: I'm too scared to look, but let's say -$35
Credit remaining on Visa Card: $4.00

And let's not even mention my student loans, mmkay?

I realized something this weekend, though. Even though I'm currently in a, shall we say, awkward financial situation, I've been neglecting my karmic bank as well. I built up a lot of karma before my move here (which I believe was partly responsible for all of my good fortune). However, since then, I haven't been making any deposits, just withdrawls. Withdrawls, and complaints.

I realized yesterday, as I gave a guy some change at the bus station, that I've forgotten to be nice to people. Perhaps that is too strong of a statement. Back home, I'd reguarly give money, or whatever I could (even it was an open ear) to people who asked (not everyone mind you, but to those who I felt were worthy and truly in need). Here, though, where there are no street people (really, there are no streets...), so I had no opportunity. However, when I examined this closer, I realized that although I lacked the opportunity, I also lacked the inclination, which isn't a good sign. I realized the gaping defecit in the ol' KB, so I think it's time for some philanthropy, even at a somewhat smaller scale then I'm used to.

I'm finally home. I'm beaten, bloodied, and bruised, but I'm home. A day late, but I'm home.

I'm in a bit of a stuppor right now. I had a lot to say, but I just don't seem to know what it was anymore. I started the day improvising a talk on contraception to a group of 12-15 year olds. It was 10am, and therefore not a very exciting time of day to talk about sex. Therefore, I had no questions in my question box and had to make up stuff to fill in my hour and a half.

So, out come my woodies. These are 3 wooden phalluses I use for demonstration purposes ONLY, you perverts. I showed them how to put on a condom, and how to make a dental dam. I handed out condoms and went back upstairs to begin catching up on all the work I miss. Within a few minutes I heard the unmistakable *pops* and giggles from a dozen condoms being blown up and exploded. I tried.

Later I met with one of the girls in a camp. She hasn't had a period in 4 months. Oops. The condom broke. Big oops. She's 13. Her boyfriend is in joovie.

Hold on while I call Jerry Springer.....

She said she "felt a connection" with him. I told her about the dangers of having sex really early (Cancer), and that there a lot of safer, yet fun things you could do with him, even if he is in jail.

Who knows. I told her to let me know either way.

This topic is depressing me, so I'm going to start another post.