The Secret Diary of Janey Jones

I always thought it was cruel when two dogs fucking in the street got the water hose treatment. What if I did that to two humans?

That would be funny. If I lived with a lover and came home to him banging another woman, I would get a garden hose and spray them with cold water while laughing wildly, like a maniac.

I would continue to hose them both down while they frantically put their clothing on. If the girl cursed or screamed at me I would beat her up. If my man tried to stop me, I would beat him up too.
 
I always thought it was cruel when two dogs fucking in the street got the water hose treatment. What if I did that to two humans?

That would be funny. If I lived with a lover and came home to him banging another woman, I would get a garden hose and spray them with cold water while laughing wildly, like a maniac.

I would continue to hose them both down while they frantically put their clothing on. If the girl cursed or screamed at me I would beat her up. If my man tried to stop me, I would beat him up too.

Whole lotta beatin' goin' on.
 
The flowers are trophies on the porch and we seedlings her glory crown—so I put my tulip pot next to the other tulip pots and walk in for some breakfast bread.

There has been a drama and I am the resilient stander by, because I don’t entertain the back biting. I just look confused and ask: Is this why we can’t have nice things?

I am the star nut in the plastic bubble wrap real safe, with my true happy face.
 
The annoying thing about reading thinking on internet social platforms is not about the broccoli eaten for dinner, it is the ‘me time’ broadcast. I really need some me time.

What does that even mean? Apparently everyone knows what that means except me, because fifty-five people like that status update. Who are these people?
--
They always tell us not to sweat the little things in life and then they turn around and tell us to appreciate the little things in life. I guess it is all about the little things.

I paid a man $125 to remove the wood from the old doorjamb that was piled up on the side of the house. He also removed all the old appliances out of the garage. I told him: No, you can’t take the antique bathtub with the claw feet that is going in our bathroom eventually. You can’t have the safes, the chainsaw, the chop saw, or the broken lawnmower. He did get the dead bunny out of the little shed.

I felt guilty. I should have loaded up all that stuff for the junkyard to scrap for metal. It is funny how things change over time. I planted some strawberries in a basket and stopped thinking about it.
 
He can’t be my everything but the heart gets me into every thing. It is just a few fast licks but emotion slips quick with my lips on his dick.

I looked up the nature of the illness: the life expectancy is about 15-20 years with the end institution of dementia. I thought about the first time I met him and how it seemed the chorea was some kind of nervous restlessness. I remembered the word finding, and me: I know what you are saying. Well, because I knew what he was saying.

I don’t have the long-term solution, but I am not getting away with a swift suck every once in a while. I am putting my hands on his face and connecting the dots on the not gingered freckled man.

Me: Are you bored with me yet?
He: Why wood I be board?
 
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There are two kinds of men in this world: the kind that want to rape me, and the kind that want to do the yard work and watch movies with sheer thongs purchased at the grocery store.

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I think this is a sex for yard work proposal.
 

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My heart has the kind of dirt that all kinds of seeds take to the root and grow wild weeds and flowers. This mating creates the hybrid that disgusts the local garden club. It doesn’t stop me from digging in my chest.

We are houseplants in rain boots with drainage holes and no root rot. We are trekking all over your world.

I got the first batch of towels on the line, and the broke one-sock dryer has been hauled away by the we haul it all junkers.
 
“We don’t kiss anymore.”

Why should we kiss? We used to kiss before I started sucking your dick. It was like, you know, in the beginning. I just don’t see the point of kissing on the mouth anymore.

He’s so sweet and sneaky. With me on his side and his dick in my mouth he tried to unlatch the three-hooked bra on my back. Instead of using his hand to push my head down into his pelvis, he used his forearm with steady gentle pressure.

And I thought for a moment: I know what you are doing, don’t be afraid to make me.
 
It always goes back to that memory of the powdered headache medicine, records that turned all night, and then the fights during wedding season. Somebody was always getting married. He had a big family. My Ma looked beautiful. I looked skinny and pale.
--
There is this internet picture of a little kitten looking into the mirror and the reflection is a lion. I am a lion with a kitten reflection.

I looked at myself in the mirror and said: Are you fucking serious? Who are you?

I squeezed my own tits just because they exist. Then I got dressed.
--
I paid to go to some fundraiser—that’s the thing about these girls, always drinking with the do-gooder disguise. The address just came through via text message. It reads: Text when you arrive.

It’s not are you showing up, or what? I don’t feel like brushing my hair or smiling.
 
She beat me, her kid beat the dog and then my Dad beat her. See, I would never think of beating on a dog, but I never thought about stabbing a boy in the neck with a pencil either, that’s what she did. People are crazy.

I ran into these girls years later when they were living in one of those old houses in the same neighborhood. There were about six kids hanging about a bucket of fried chicken. The cockroaches on the wall assumed the battle position.

I never told anyone. I never went back cause somebody did that to her before she did that to me. That is the way things like that work. If we are all victims who are the perpetrators?
 
This man broke into my house and installed a clothing dryer in the kitchen, when I wasn't home.

And by breaking in, I mean he just walked right in cause we keep locks on our hearts, and not on our doors.
 
Now that I don't have to go to the laundromat to wash clothes, he wants to know:

"Am I back to BJ schedule?"

I guess he really likes the BJs. And he always wants to know about the volume. I think I will start spitting into a measuring cup.
 
Now that I don't have to go to the laundromat to wash clothes, he wants to know:

"Am I back to BJ schedule?"

I guess he really likes the BJs. And he always wants to know about the volume. I think I will start spitting into a measuring cup.
Screw volume. Just keep sucking until I grab a double handful of hair and pull your mouth off me before my head explodes; that's my viewpoint.

Unless, of course, he's thinking of trying out to be a porn actor, and wants to specialize as one of those guys who squirts by the half-pint.
 
Screw volume. Just keep sucking until I grab a double handful of hair and pull your mouth off me before my head explodes; that's my viewpoint.

Unless, of course, he's thinking of trying out to be a porn actor, and wants to specialize as one of those guys who squirts by the half-pint.
That's a hott viewpoint SW.

My foot hurts. I want to keep squeezing it because it hurts and feels good at the same time.
 
That's a hott viewpoint SW.

My foot hurts. I want to keep squeezing it because it hurts and feels good at the same time.
Unless a doc has said no for some reason, hot soaks with epsom salts are often a good pain reliever and helpful for curing a lot of foot ills, including penetrative injuries (except deep ones).
 
Unless a doc has said no for some reason, hot soaks with epsom salts are often a good pain reliever and helpful for curing a lot of foot ills, including penetrative injuries (except deep ones).
The orthopod told me to stop squeezing it, to always wear shoes, take motrin, and put orthotics in my shoe. He also said ice it, but I don't like cold. I am going to foot soak. I have one of those cool foot bath thingers.

I am mad about the no bare footing at home, but it's true, the pain is more with no shoes on. :mad:

I want to keep squeezing!
 
The orthopod told me to stop squeezing it, to always wear shoes, take motrin, and put orthotics in my shoe. He also said ice it, but I don't like cold. I am going to foot soak. I have one of those cool foot bath thingers.

I am mad about the no bare footing at home, but it's true, the pain is more with no shoes on. :mad:

I want to keep squeezing!
No.

Doctor's orders. If he said stop, there's a reason - probably that it makes things worse, even though it feels good while hurting.
 
Alright, I won't squeeze even though it feels good.

Man, it seems good advice, but also, no fun at all. Um, if the needtasqueeze get's desperate for you, let me know and I can stop by for an enthusiastic hug-a-thon until eases.

You seem like you would be quite squeezetastic, and I really do like to help whenever and however I can.

:rose:
 
Man, it seems good advice, but also, no fun at all. Um, if the needtasqueeze get's desperate for you, let me know and I can stop by for an enthusiastic hug-a-thon until eases.

You seem like you would be quite squeezetastic, and I really do like to help whenever and however I can.

:rose:
I need-a-squeeze sure. :rose: I limped around Jamaica for a day, and then I realized that the booze and ibuprofen got me walking right to dance all night.

I have pages to write, but the house is wrecked, and my face has irritable acne. My hair needs a good brushing.
 
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