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Furious Bits - February 2007

I want you to want me.

February 27th 2007 04:38
There isn't much I would change about my marriage. One thing though that bothers me is that Tony is so fucking good natured when it comes to sex. If I pull out the "Not tonight dear, I have a headache" not only will he take it well, he'll get up, get me aspirin, and then hold me while stroking my hair.

I want a litlte pouting, something to let me know that my stuff is worth a fight.

I hear woman say how their husband literally follow behind them with pants 'round their ankles, poking them in the butt while they do dishes. It's to the point where if their husbands so much as touch them, they assume they want sex. If Tony touches me, I never assume he wants sex. It just never crosses my mind. He's so nice about it.


It's not a secret that Tony and I have a healthy sexual relationship. Yet, sometimes I wonder how that even comes about. Tony is just not vocal in his wantings. Oh sure if I bring it up, he's all over it, but he just never lets it known that he's feeling like having a party in his pants. We once went without sex for six months. I was going through some issues, and him? Well, like I said he's just so fucking good natured about it all.

The other night while having a discussion with another couple, I told Tony that I would like to see some wanting from him. It's not that I want him to beg, oh well, sure begging is always welcomed. I want to be... hounded. Is that the right word? I want to feel wanted. Come in and say "Are you going to chat all night or can I get you to come in here so I can get some dirty, dirty lovin'?" It's almost as if he stumbles upon sex, and thinks "Oh ok, sure why not"

So, he's been showing me, and showing me, and showing me, and showing me. We had sex four times in a twenty four hour period. thngs... well some things are hurting. Now I wonder, how did he he do it? I mean obviously he has some super hyped up sex drive that he has been keeping under wraps for YEARS.


So now I just have to deal with it since I said something.

Where's my ice pack?
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Trying my hand at poetry.

February 25th 2007 20:51
Again? and
Again? and
Yet again?

You flatter me
With your stiff
wanting, your
hard
rock hard
gift.

Again?
Yes, oh yes again.

yet again?
Um...? ok again.

When you leave me
Only thoughts
of you are in my
mind and heart

Ok not true.
I also think
with all
seriousness...

Can I?
How would I?
Can it be done.....
?

Can I count your
vigorous
lovely gift(s)......

as points of
activity
on Weight Watchers?


I crack myself up. I have never study poetry so I'm sure this is the wrong on so many technical levels. But, David gave me an idea, and I ran with it.

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Homogenized is not just for milk anymore.

February 24th 2007 18:48
Things don't seem to matter to me like they do other people. I go to my friends houses, and I see their lovely things, and I think "Wow, I like how they have put their things together, and you know what? I'd like some things of my own"

So, I peruse stores and shops and online, and the conventional things, they don't excite me. Wooden shelves, or burnished silver lamps, and faux modern art purchased at Target. Those things, are boring. Yet, those things? They look good in other peoples homes. Why is that? Why do I not want to put those things in MY home?

Then I come upon a store like this COOL THINGS!! and get wild with excitement!! Things! Things upon things upon things. All I would put in my house. Why? For a chuckle, a giggle, and delightful surprise! Whimsy and fancy and colorful fun!! I'll take four of those, and two of those, and one of those!! Oh the delight!

Unfortunately, then pops in my head "No self respecting adult would have that in their house" *said in most serious gruff old man voice* And then I think "What would my mother think?"

This is the problem with our bordering on homogenized society. Even when you don't think you're affected, you see that you gotta little white bread showing. When you drive down any Main Street USA and see a Pottery Barn, Target, Barnes and Noble, Bed Bath and Beyond and Best Buy one right after the other, repeating in THAT order all the way down the strip, everyone is going to have the same stuff. The same ideas, the same wants. THey almost trick you into wanting the "latest styles" becuase that's all they fucking offer you. You only can look at the same color schemes of th season before you're brain just accepts it as normal, and you want it.

I still have hope for myself. Why? Because I am usually the asshole who buys the new trends right as they're going out of style. They're probably been clearanced down to nothing so I feel like I have a good deal. When I bring it home and display it, people usually give me that condesceiding "Aaaaahhh that's nice" a that little irky pat on my ass.

What can I say? We're buying a used (again, used) 52 in television, and it makes me want to VOMIT because, well we'll be one of those people with a 52 inch telelvision. It is NOT going in my living room, that's for sure.

To treat myself, I'm buying something from that above site, and displaying it in my home for all to see. Just a little middle finger action to society... and my mom.
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Pms. It's for real.

February 23rd 2007 05:38
Ah yes, it's that special time of the month, where my face is affixed with a permanent scowl, I can cry during an episode of Wonder Pets, and the sound of my husbands voice makes me want to repeatedly punch him in the neck.

PMS. Ain't it grand


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I know you can't, but I don't think I can either.

February 21st 2007 06:50
"Do you think that maybe........?"
"I just don't think I can. I'm sorry."
"I understand


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Call me Mr. CrazyTrain

February 21st 2007 01:57
My children have been taken from me. Taken away, spirited off into a world where trains, and trucks are surly,whiny little bastards,and are reprimanded by tiny people with no mouths, and who don't move much at all. Where the trains and trucks have oddly rotating eyes, and speak in queer British accents. Where everything is explained in excrutiating detail by George Carlin, who is also pushing the queer British accent. You know the one, the kind that sounds all floofy and airy. If it was cockney, that would be awesome, but it's not. It's very.... Madonna.

What is it I am referring to? Who has stolen my childrens souls


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There's nothing better.....

February 20th 2007 06:52
Than a late night snack after an athletic romp with the hubby in the sack.


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My home.

February 19th 2007 23:48
My house is a home, full of love. My house is a home that people feel comfortable in, that people let loose. My home is where my babies are my babies, and my husband is my rock. At home is where I can sit in my underwear, and fart unabashadly. My home is where I cook for my family and my friends and whoever stops by. My home is where I made good friends, and I can talk to them whenever I want. My home is messy, my home is cluttered, my home is craptastic in it's decor.

My home is where I cry, in sadness, in happiness, where my children cry over skinned knees, and the indignaties of life. My home is where my husband and I make love, and kiss each other goodnight, good morning, and good whatever. My home is where my games are, my Sims are, my PS2 are. My home is where my son pretends to be poop in a toilet bowl, and my daughter pretends she is a lion, a polar bear, a turtle, a supehero


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Nerdy Corporate Whore position has been filled.

February 17th 2007 00:25
I have been sleeping a lot lately, and that can only mean one thing. Depression has crept up on me. Nothing has really triggered it, but it does go to show that my depression is no joke. I've been taking my meds like I should, and I have been exercising and eating right. So, even though I have been doing everything "right" I can still be struck down like a blind cat on a busy highway. Actually that is a good metaphor for life. Aren't we all just blind cats on the busy high of life?

Ya'll didn't know I could get deep now didja


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Would it be cheap of me to mention pee and farts in the title?

February 14th 2007 02:58
If there is one thing I hate, is feeling like a damsel in distress. I just feel that as a woman of today, I should be able to handle certain situations myself. I should be able to check my tire pressure, and change my tampon all at the same time. Bring home the bacon, and make my husband cook it.

M dad has taught me and my sisters pretty well, and I've picked a bit on my own. Never do I want to have to depend on a penis weilder if I don't have to. Especially a strange penis wielder, it's hard to explain the smell of urine while you're shopping at Wal mart. "Sorry I needed a jump, and then some guy pissed on me to show his dominance." I've learned basic car maintenance, and I can even diagnose a problem for other people and sometimes be right


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Food, exercise, and Lane Bryant pleasuring herself

February 12th 2007 15:07
I haven't been wrting much. It's harder than I thought it would be. I know a lot of it is my own worries, but I'm pretty sure no one wants to read about my kids, which is what I used to write about a lot before I started Orble. Right now, I'm trying to find my voice, and it's tough.

Also, the only thing that has been on my mind lately has been food. Food, food, food. How many points is this? How many points is that? I've been obsessed with labels, and if I'm on the Weight Watchers website more than any other. Yesterday, my friend Teri and I spent a good what? Twenty minutes trying to figure out how many points a slice of St. Louis style pizza might be. There were fractions, and equations, and calls to the pizza parlor. It was crazy. Teri being from Joisey had no idea what I was trying to talk about , since she's used to the New Yoik style pizza, THE SLICES ARE TINY is what I kept saying over and over, trying to minimize the points as much as I can. God love her for trying and holding my hand through it all


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We go together like summer sausage and granola

February 11th 2007 20:55
Even after fifteen years together, nine of those being married, , and growing two little people, Tony is still the person I love to be with the most. If it's going to the movies, attending a washers tournament on a bitter cold day, or laying in bed together, we make each other laugh.

We're different though. I wouldn't go so far as to say opposites, but that's the best word I can think of. Yesterday, was a perfect example. I went to the farmers market, and for him, I got summer sausage, and for me, granola. Yet they represent each of us perfectly. Summer sausage= dick and granola= mama earth muffin goddess of all light, who bore the meat sticks big headed babies


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All the mixed up parts of me

February 8th 2007 18:18
Something a little different from me today. Since I really don't have anything to write about, and since I'm avoiding the vacuum cleaner like it has a hard on, I'm going to post a few things. Maybe for those of you who don't know me can get more of an insight into me, and my family, and those of you who do know me, well, yes you have to see this shit again. Get over it, and go eat a Weight Watchers muffin or some Pussy cookies. You know who you are!!

First, of all my son, has an obsession with our down comforter that was a gift from my parents a few Xmases ago. For awhile, we didn't have a duvet on it (that would be like a giant pillow case like thing for a blanket, for all you guys out there) and it is stark white. This for some reason reminded my son, who was two at the time, of a toilet bowl. Odd, since he had never really used the potty at the time. I just think it's in the testicles to be obsessed with the toilet and all things you DO in a toilet. Everyday, he asks me to flush him, and he declares hes "da poop


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Don't use the machine after me, I sweat from my unmentionables.

February 7th 2007 22:14
I don't want to say Tony is the center of my universe, the rock in my world, the anchor to my ship or anything like that, mainly becuase he'd be completely unbearable about it. He'd be all "I am man, gaze upon my penis in wonder! I am the penis wielder, and you shall worship my penis. Orally, lots of oral worshipping" Then when I was done, he'd mushroom stamp my forehead, slap me on the ass, and tell me to make him some pie, and I HATE making pie.

But just little shit has gone wrong. Like the toilet overflowing poo water onto my floor. I won't tell you WHOSE poo it was that clogged the toilet, as it would be really embarrassing for me, er I mean that person. My computer acting funky, the fish slowly dying a slow death. Jonny refusing to sleep. All those little teeny things, that if he were at least here I could discuss with him


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Dying fish, broken vans, shattered glasses, sounds like a country song.

February 6th 2007 06:57
I have been wracking my brain, trying to come up with something fun to write about, but alas, fun is far from my mind. We just recently put our van in the shop, and what started out as a $650 fix, quickly escalated into a $1500 hole of despair. Which sucks a big fat donkey dong. Fortunately for us, we have the money to fix it, and therefore it's getting fixed. It just totally sucks ass to have to shell out that dough.

As if that wasn't bad enough, today Tony stepped on and broke his glasses. AND oh yes, ladies and gentlemen, it gets worse, my fish are dying. They've contracted some weird fish disease that causes red streaks in the fins, and to peck at each other, and to swim around like crazy things. I knew they were feeling poorly, but I assumed it was from Jonny A.K.A Fish Killer Jones, dumping half a bottle of fish food in there. AS the days wore on, they didn't get much better, until today I notced that they've dramatically taken a turn for the worse, and have now developed these red, veiny streaks in their tails. I can';t help feel that maybe I'm Fish Killer Jones, because the other day I thought it would be cool to "pet" the fish. I probably subjected them so some weird virus from scracthing myself and touching them


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I heart the internet

February 2nd 2007 20:07
I mentioned this in my last post, but the internets has got to be, by far the best-est thing ever invented. Where else can buy shoes, chat, read a blog, WRITE a blog, and check out discount dildos ALL AT THE SAME TIME?!?! No where my friends, except the internets.

On the internets you can watch videos, billions and billions of videos. Exercise videos, music videos, videos of chinese kids lip synching, videos of fat kids lip synching, videos of fat chinese kids lip synching, pornagraphic videos, kiddie videos, kiddie boxing videos, monkeys doing naughty things videos, fat chinese kids dressed up like monkeys doing naughty things pornagraphic videos. I could go on, but I think I've stretched that joke as far as it can go


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