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Tatelou said:
I beg to differ. 12 hours of sex has me singing to the heavens. :devil: :p

Lou - often known to walk funny.

Ahhh, *sigh* I suppose you do have a point there. hmmmm, I'll go with the one after the other idea. But i would add chocolate, strawberries, and whipped cream. You know people do have to eat. ;)

:kiss:
 
RebeccaLeah said:
Ahhh, *sigh* I suppose you do have a point there. hmmmm, I'll go with the one after the other idea. But i would add chocolate, strawberries, and whipped cream. You know people do have to eat. ;)

:kiss:

Yes, it is advisable to keep up energy levels. I'm not much into food sex, though, but I do find lots of cups of tea help. So romantic! :D

Lou :kiss:
 
Every now and then, when I click on Authors Hangout: Go - I end up at that damned What's Your Warning Sign -page. Does anyone else experience this?
Or should I upgrade my antivirus system?:confused:
 
Svenskaflicka said:
Every now and then, when I click on Authors Hangout: Go - I end up at that damned What's Your Warning Sign -page. Does anyone else experience this?
Or should I upgrade my antivirus system?:confused:

Nope, I've never experienced that. Have you cleared your cookies and/or history recently?

Lou :confused:
 
Tatelou said:
Yes, it is advisable to keep up energy levels. I'm not much into food sex, though, but I do find lots of cups of tea help. So romantic! :D

Lou :kiss:

you are so British. though if i could convince you to sit at the other side of the table i could probably drink a couple pots full.
 
RebeccaLeah said:
you are so British. though if i could convince you to sit at the other side of the table i could probably drink a couple pots full.

I believe in the concept which somebody recently told me... an army can march another five miles on one cup of tea (or something similar, anyway). It's so true! My tea fetish is all his fault. :D

Awww! You sweetie. :rose:

Lou :kiss:
 
Tatelou said:
I believe in the concept which somebody recently told me... an army can march another five miles on one cup of tea (or something similar, anyway). It's so true! My tea fetish is all his fault. :D

Awww! You sweetie. :rose:

Lou :kiss:

tea is better than coffee anyway, but don't tell any of the abs morning regulars that...it might get ugly. :)

i have to go start a facial and enjoy the weekend.

later.
:kiss:es
R
 
RebeccaLeah said:
tea is better than coffee anyway, but don't tell any of the abs morning regulars that...it might get ugly. :)

i have to go start a facial and enjoy the weekend.

later.
:kiss:es
R

No, I wouldn't wanna upset Abs now, would I? :D

You have to start a facial!? Now that sounds like fun! :devil:

Oh, you meant as in beauty treatment, right? :eek:

Hehehe! ;)

Have a good one!

Lou :kiss:
 
Svenskaflicka said:
Every now and then, when I click on Authors Hangout: Go - I end up at that damned What's Your Warning Sign -page. Does anyone else experience this?
Or should I upgrade my antivirus system?:confused:

I'm getting it too.

I have turned my pop-up controls on but I'm deleting all cookies when I sign off. I have Ad-Aware that runs every time I turn my computer on.

Strange.

Og
 
oggbashan said:
I'm getting it too.

I have turned my pop-up controls on but I'm deleting all cookies when I sign off. I have Ad-Aware that runs every time I turn my computer on.

Strange.

Og

Me too.

Cleared the cookies, but still getting it every now and then.

At least it's not just me.
 
I just need to write something that makes me laugh so because I'm a selfish woman I';m subjecting you all to my bout of humor.

I’ve had occasion recently to ponder my many faults and being Catholic, I turned to St. Thomas Aquinas when considering the long list of my shortcomings. Let’s face it: there’s nothing like a misogynistic zealot for provoking self-examination.



As many of you know (via Catholic school or Brad Pitt movies), the Seven Deadly Sins are Pride, Covetousness, Lust, Wrath, Gluttony, Envy, and Sloth



Let’s start with the ones that don’t trouble me. Bear with me – this’ll be a short list.



Covetousness



Nope. Having money or things just because it’s there. That mentality has never interested me.



Envy



I’m not particularly afflicted with envy. Not that my life is so shit hot, but everyone has problems. Sure it seems like it would be great to be filthy rich but who knows. It would certainly suck to be famous and of that I have no doubt.



Gluttony



I wasn’t sure where to put this because let’s face it; the munchies are a universal phenomenon. On the other hand, I don’t make it a habit with either food or drink – but I’ve certainly had my moments.



Lust



And to round off this category (and I’m not going to dwell on this), the only thing I remember about lust is how to spell it. I had an x-ray recently and before the technician activated the machine he asked, “Is there any chance you could be pregnant?”



“Gee, I don’t know,” I replied. “Is there a star rising in the east?”



Now, onto to the “capital vices” that have an implacable grip on my soul.





Wrath



I admit that every now and then I can have moments of wrath (I’m typing this with a straight face), but I prefer to see the funny side of things rather than react with blind anger. On the other hand, I’m not someone you want to piss off.



Sloth



I agonized over this for days and even now, I’m still not sure if Sloth should come in at a mere second. Sloth’s grip on my will is absolute and weak sinner that I am, I generally find it easier to just give in.



Who am I kidding? I embrace it. I luxuriate in it. I fling myself at it with giddy abandon. So epic is my laziness that family legends have sprung up around it.



And when added to my cardinal sin, pride, the mix creates a Louis the Sun King aura (without, of course, the royal heritage, pots of money, accomplishments and a place in history).



Which leads me to my next item.



Pride



What can I say? I admit it. I am a vain woman. But it’s more than that. Sometimes I’m quite convinced that I am really rather marvelous.



While obnoxious, this would not be all that remarkable – there are thousands of vain people in the world. In fact, our whole society is all about vanity and glorifying the superficial. We’ve all been assaulted by media images of perfection and many of us have fallen for it. I just happen to be one of them.



(This is what is known as “I’m a victim of the culture” defence.)



Besides, I’m a Cancer with four other planets there, which apparently makes this sort of thing more or less inevitable.



(This is what is known as “The Fault, dear Horatio, is in our stars” defence.)



But since I’ve also been cruelly cursed with self-knowledge, I must acknowledge that my behaviour could be the result of an undiagnosed narcissistic personality disorder.



(This is what is known as “The Likely Story”.)



But take heart – pride did indeed goeth before a fall.



Ladies, we all know that each of us has three sizes of clothing – the skinny stuff you get into when you’re in great shape, the normal stuff that you usually settle for and at least one pair of “fat” jeans.



I can’t say now what in the world possessed me to stuff myself into pants I was about 5 pounds too heavy for but I think that a heartbreaking dearth of caffeine and a delusional episode had something to do with it.



Hmm, I thought, gazing at my reflection, not bad at all. Kind of hot as a matter of fact. OK, so they were a little tight but they’d loosen up, right? Any camel toe would be concealed by my mid-thigh length jacket.



It was rush hour when I left for work, so I spent the entire trip standing. The first glimmer of foreboding I had (apart from complete numbness below the waist) struck me at the stairs leading out of the subway. As I attempted to scale them, I found there was not enough play in the fabric to allow me to bend my knees but I persevered and hauled myself up the steps.



Whew! Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all but I was stuck with it now and I knew I could suck it up. Besides, I was working on a really interesting design I was sure would distract me from any discomfort I might experience courtesy of a size two denim tourniquet. I could do this, no sweat. Once I was in the office and absorbed in the work, none of this would matter. Convinced of this, I tottered confidently into the office, put my briefcase away and turned on my computer.



I sat down -- and felt a little thrill as my legs went dead.



I heaved myself to my feet, desperate to sort myself out before I was struck dead by deep vein thrombosis.



The blinding lightheadedness caused by the sudden surge of blood thundering back into my parched lower extremities staggered me only momentarily and was soon replaced by a case of pins and needles so severe that I began to pray to St. Sebastian. The tingling, numbness and an inability to bend my knees (combined with the inseam’s increasingly menacing assault on my most intimate areas) lent my gait a jaunty, almost piratical air. I reeled down the hall, determined to make it to the sanctuary of the bathroom in record time.



Once inside, I desperately dug into my viscera for the button at my waist.



The relief as I popped it was immediate and as my grateful lower body began to swell, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. In addition to cutting off all my circulation, my reflection revealed that I had magically been transformed into an interesting performance art piece – a topographical map rendered in exquisite detail on flesh.



There was a deep groove where the zipper had been and the line of the seam was imbedded so indelibly onto my thighs I could count the stitches. In fact, I was pretty sure the pattern could be seen from space. Clearly, I was now one with the jeans in an unpleasant Borg-like way. Peeling them off was no small task, as it soon became apparent that they had bonded to my flesh, evidently on a cellular level.



Then a chilling thought struck me.



Have you ever removed your boots after a long hike? Ever tried to put them back on five minutes later? It was kind of like that. Unless I could manage to stuff myself back into the damn jeans immediately, I’d never get them back on. I gritted my teeth, sucked in one last, unencumbered breath and hauled the button toward the buttonhole.



This endeavour gave me an idea of what it must be like to force 100 pounds of Jello into a straw. By 3 p.m., I was seriously considering calling the paramedics. Clearly, the only thing that could separate me from my jeans was the Jaws of Life.



Don’t ask me how I got through the day – I have no memory of it, thanks no doubt to imminent death by constriction. It tends to be a bit distracting.
 
LOL. :D

That was a great story. I have to admit regreting wearing things once I actually stepped out of the house.

As far as the "seven" go, i think a little sin makes life interesting and fun. ;) and I went to a catholic highschool :rolleyes:

Highschool aged catholic boys are the most sexually deprived creatures in the world. :( Poor things.

My sympathy for the jeans though. :rose:

:kiss:es
R
 
I went to catholic school as well lol the girls were deprived too not on my watch mind you but I heard rumors
 
destinie21 said:
I went to catholic school as well lol the girls were deprived too not on my watch mind you but I heard rumors

luckily i wasn't catholic so i didn't have to follow the rules. ;)
 
destinie21 said:
too bad I came along after the spankings were outlawed

oh i would have enjoyed them, nah my nuns just cracked them on the desk when you weren't paying attention.
 
back to the begining. again.

once your computer's spell check can no longer figure out what the hell you mean when you tried to type the or and, it is time to pack up for the night.
:kiss:
R
 
Every other morning the joint is jumping and I miss it, today I'm awake and no one is around.

what the frig, do people work or something?:confused:
 
Who the hell can work in this heat? :confused:

The whole country is officially on yellow allert, with 5 southern districts on orange, all because of a sandstorm over the saraha that suddenly threw a bit of subtropical weather this way... :rolleyes:
 
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