FFF-Fixed

Word Limit = 250

Keyword = a synonym for "fixed" but not "fixed" itself

Extra Credit = Include a link to your favorite TUMBLR (besides mine)

25 Bonus Words can be earned by having an orgasm within 60 min of writing your entry (be honest)

Enjoy
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He smiled as he locked the door behind him, tossing the keys in the air and deftly catching them behind his back. He could already feel the stress of the day being carried away on the breeze and sun of the warm February afternoon.  The call came as he worked on the Anderson account, correcting mistakes his assistant made the night before.

“Go home,” Peterson has said, “We’ll pick it all up tomorrow.”

“No problem!” he said to himself as he loosened his tie.  He considered calling home about the afternoon off, but decided that a surprise might be in order.

He stopped at the corner and picked up some Thai noodles for dinner. There would need to eat something after they were done and he felt his cock grow harder and press against his slacks as he paid the beautiful cashier $12 in exchange for the bag.

“Expecting something?” she asked, looked, and giggled.  His mood was so bright that he grabbed his junk and blurted out, “I’m going home early to surprise my wife.”

“Lucky girl.” He heard her say as the bell on the door jangled his good-bye.

He paused to buy a paper, then unlocked the glass doors and bound up the stairs of the Victorian walk-up.

She was bare naked on the kitchen floor as he opened the door, a string of clothes guiding him to her.

Afterwards, he rolled off and said set a plate for her, “Your mom makes the best noodles ever.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Maybe plumbing school was a good investment after all,” he thought as he looked down at the incredible blonde sucking his cock. The tile of the kitchen gave him chills, but when she looked up at him, her pink lips wrapped around his hard shaft, he didn’t mind. He wasn’t allowed to touch her, his hands were too greasy and she didn’t have time to shower before her husband came home, so he just laid back and enjoyed it.

“You saved my life,” she said, as he cleared the disposal clogged with yet another failed attempt at cooking dinner. “I can’t afford to pay you,” she said with a quiver, “I spent my money on the turkey I just ruined.”

He looked around the room, expecting a camera crew hop out at any moment, this was too much like Penthouse letters and he couldn’t believe it was happening.

She released his cock and crawled up, impaling herself, bouncing up and down.  Still not allowed to touch, she got herself off with her fingers and then he exploded inside her as she begged.

He thought nothing of it for months, never mentioning it to his wife or business partner until the letter from the attorney arrived.  He read the text of the paternity suit and laughed.  He pulled out his medical file and put copies of the payment for his vasectomy in the return envelope.

“What’s so funny?” His wife asked.

“Just a letter from someone who couldn’t pay their bill.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn't get a chance to early my bonus words.  I wrote this during my afternoon break at work and the office manager kept coming but to test the phones and the new keys that go along with the new locks installed over the weekend.  With the door opening every 2 minutes, I didn't dare try to earn them. Not that she would mind, for an office manager she's pretty cool and kind of flirty, so maybe, well...

I rarely pick favorites, but the idea for the 2nd story was my first thought when I picked the word "Fixed."  An on-line friend said she only flirted guys who had been snipped, so I gave her my doctor's name and offered so send the invoice.   It all came together in my head as i wrote the first one.  

The first one cracked me up.  My dark side wanted him to walk in on her fucking someone else, but then I remembered I promised to be happier this week, so I decided to make her mom the cashier at the Thai food place on the corner.  Given a few more words, maybe mom would have closed the shop early.  LOL.

I liked them both, I hope you did too.  

Now go tell your friends that it's time to get happy and write!!!  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
OK, I found this and earned my bonus words, but since my two stories were already completed, I added one more, just 25 words.

He came inside her as the tile cut her bare back, The door opened.  “Dang, I’ve got  to get that lock fixed.”

  
I had a great time writing this week.  As you leave your links above, please drop a comment in to comment box.

 

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Monday Ramblings on Fitness

Weight 
Pounds 

Waist line 
Thighs, 
biceps, 
abdomen 
Penis 
Breasts 
BMI 
Bank accounts 
Facebook friends 
The number of bedrooms 
Number of tattoos 
Initials behind our name on a business card

These are all things we measure to make ourselves feel better, at least better than other people. We try to measure things to capture whether we are succeeding or failing. these to the list minutes per mile, total mileage, T-shirts collected, bones broken, laps counted We try to make ourselves feel better by writing things down and see if the numbers go up or if the numbers go down. Maybe we should measure other things,

Number of orgasms shared 
Number of blog posts written 
Tumbler picks re-tumbled 
Videos watched 
Virgins it defiled 
Paternity suits avoided 
Tattoos removed 

We are hung up on measurements that define us.We seek to quantify and qualify the people around us so we know if they are a good match for us or not.

“Did you laugh more than 3 times at the last Adam Sandler movie?”-This is a bad thing. 
Did you vote for or against prop 8? 
 For or against the Barack Obama? 
 Did you support the fiscal cliff legislation? 
Do you believe that minorities get a fair shake or should we abandon affirmative action? 
Do you live with your mother, yes or no? 
If I go out with you on a date will you rape me?
 If I fall in love with you will you break my heart? 

We want to take the risk out of everything by measuring it, getting a guarantee from the seller, and screaming bloody murder if it doesn’t work out just the way we imagined it.

But life is not like that, life is risk, uncertainty, it is full of liars with good intention and sweethearts with bad. We don’t get to pick and choose what happens to us, we can’t get a guarantee from the universe.

 I will continue to measure things. Because I know I run faster at 200 pounds than I do at 215. I will count the miles run and the minutes spent and the pace achieved because I want to see progress and I define progress by numbers. I will pay $90 to run 13.1 miles in under 104 minutes. If I succeed I will be happy with that $90, 13.1 miles, and 104 minutes. If I take more than 110 minutes I will be unhappy with the $90 and the 13.1 miles, and most certainly unhappy with the 105th through 10th minutes. However, if I see Kim at the finish line it may not matter what time it is.

 Last night I printed out the chart, set my goals, and drew a line from 215 to 200 on a chart. It is a very steep line, and I get hungry just looking at it. I will weigh in every day.

I will write down what I eat. I will count, measure, and record. I will measure because I am happier at one number that another.

 I’m just not sure which number.

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Random thoughts on a Sunday morning

I should really get off Tumblr and work on my Sunday school reading

My son didn't feel good all last night.  I feel bad for him, but I love holding him as we sleep.

The weather should be colder, but i like running without 4 layers of clothes.

I had an orgasm yesterday that was totally underwhelming

"The Hunger Games" was a good book but a boring movie.

It's been a quiet week with my blogger friends.

My daughter is going through a rough time as her best male friends chase after the rich girls.

I made a new friend on-line this week.  She is beautiful but lives in my home town.  that is wonderfully, but it makes me nervous and happy and horny all at the same time.

My pastor's daughter is a real bitch, and he can't see it.

Two of my main friends are on vacation and one is really busy, I miss them when they are away

I love the hour before everyone else wakes up.

My crock pot pork ROCKED last night

• Pork Shoulder Blade Roast - Boneless - trim the fat, cut into natural sections
• 1/2 yellow onion sliced, not diced
• 1 orange pepper - large, cleaned and seeded
• 4 -6 tablespoons spicy yellow mustard
• 1 can Campbell's cream of onion soup (with Garlic)
• lots of fresh ground pepper
• a few shakes of salt
• just enough water to rinse the soup can (not a lot)
• i put in the onions, then meat, pepper and salt, the Orange pepper, the soup, the water, put it on high for 5 hours and it was perfect.  The drippings made a wonderful gravy, I had trimmed most of fat so it wasn't fatty, and I served it with potato slices (like large hash browns), corn, and a green salad.  I ROCKED IT!

I'm typing quietly because my penis is sleeping.

Have a great Sunday.

(and I just got big news from a very special friend.  I am very proud of her.)

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Fitness Update - Jan 14 - Strange Days

It’s Monday morning again in time to admit that I am, well,... I think I have the opposite of whatever people have when they look in the mirror and they think they are fat when really they are skinny, I know there is a name for it something like “body dysmorphic disorder” whatever it is, I have the opposite.  I go to the gym and I work out and I feel strong and confident and then I look in the mirror and I realize I’m not.  My best angle these days is definitely a full frontal shot. When I turn to the side reality hits and it’s kind of depressing. Not depressing enough, I guess, to stop me from buying a breakfast sandwich combo this morning.

It’s strange, as I sit here and think about what to say, how many things tie in to our eating habits. It’s never a simple matter of eating less, because our relationship with food is quite complex. We have to eat to survive, but that is probably the last reason we do so. Sure, when we get hungry we eat, but food, food is a scapegoat, a memory trigger, a way to rebel, a way to satisfy, a way to find comfort.

Food allows us to relive memories when we make, hot cocoa with cinnamon rolls on a chilly winter night, or when I cut up a steak and share and I flashback to a restaurant caught in college and realize afresh that I should never have let her go. It’s strange, how powerful sense memories are and I wonder why our brains are wired that way, to tie us so strongly to the past.

If you want me to think about LW, buy me a hot dog and a really good root beer.

KS would be a steak and the beer she bought on her own because I never bought her alcohol.

AJ is a burger at the student union building and AB would be any kind of fast food on the way to the mountains.

Potato cheese soup from Marie calendars will bring my mom’s apparition into the room, while two hot dogs from Wienerschnitzel puts me right on the hood of my friend’s car as we watch the cruisers go by on State Street. I can remember so many meals with important women, how they ordered, what they did, the joy I felt in their company and the longing I feel as I remember them now.

This is a bad time to be writing, I had an orgasm this morning with my wife, a simple hands job before getting out of bed, and a few things were said that put an unpleasant spin on things and I think the post-climax letdown and the odd conversation has put me in a strangely reminiscent mood. To top it off, the trees outside my window are finally losing the last of their fall colors as the wind blows through and it sets a sad tableau. It’s all just self-pity and overly sentimental musings before I get to work, but it plays into the words I choose in the soundtrack that is playing in my head.

So eating… You can’t live without it, can’t stop thinking about it. 

My wife and I had a conversation about diet. One of the things the complicates my mental approach to weight loss is that my wife is now going “to join in” we both use lose it.comand, while I am glad she is trying to get in shape (she really has done a good job of exercising more lately and she barely eats as it is, so I’m not sure how much weight she will lose) I dread her involvement. When she wants to do something with me that usually means she wants to control the agenda, and when it comes to my fitness and eating, I have no patience with her.

Eating is such a personal thing, and goes along with mood and rebellion and loneliness and memory and enjoyment  and, well,  it goes with everything. Our relationship with food is quite illogical. All we need to do is eat enough to stay alive, get some vitamins, and be healthy. Instead we use it as a proxy in battles with our past, with ourselves, and with those around us. When she tries to control what I eat, usually by side comments and loaded questions, it feels as if she is trying to control me. Which she is. And I don’t like that.

It is time to go. I started this post early this morning but I have had a wonderfully productive day. The project plan I am working on has gone through a major revision and I was able to send it off for review. Meetings were held, tempers were soothed, crisis avoided, and documents turned in.

Found here:  http://blondewithbuttonnose.tumblr.com/page/2

I wonder what I should say on some of these Monday posts. I have lacked discipline these past two weeks in my eating. As always, it is my time at the gym that is my salvation. I was down almost 1.5 pounds and then up 2 pounds and now I am back to being down .4 pounds. That is not progress, that is just statistical variation.

I feel as if my discipline is returning. I feel as if I am ready to begin, but then I will look in my hand and see that I have picked up three chocolates from the bowl in the training center. I eat for the wrong reasons and until I get those reasons under control I will have a hard time.

Until then, until I can get my head around the process, I will struggle, but struggle I will, and I will continue. I will not give up, neither should you.

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