Tuesday, December 11, 2012

The night my mobile phone should've stayed in

Do you know that feeling when you open your eyes in the "morning" (after noon) and the room is still feverishly moving around you? Yes? Everybody does.
Do you know that feeling when you open your eyes in the "morning" (before noon, because your hangover is disturbing your sleep) and the room is still feverishly dancing around you and you suddenly receive flashbacks of the night before? Yes? How about that...
Do you know that feeling when you open your eyes in the "morning" (eh, it is not important anymore) and the room is still feverishly dancing around you and you suddenly restore some parts of your lost memory and you are rapidly sobered up by text messages? No, you are not popular. The phone is not ringing. You made someone else popular last night with shameful, tasteless and uncensored texting that spoke your mind exactly as it was. The cruel reality...

Walking with a bag on you head for a month...

Let's say you fancy someone. Polite flirting, phone number exchange... everything went according to a plan secretly stored and locked in your head. You are alpha and omega of making your crush like you. So, why isn't he writing more often? What in the name of Eros happened? Is my plan outdated? Why hasn't he invited me to a coffee yet? It seems you are getting lost in the labyrinth of you hectic thoughts, however, to your own luck, your sober sanity is still there. You are playing hard to get, hell - you invented the game - and have no intention of texting whatsoever. Even though your mind plays tricks on you and from time to time your concentration drops, you still manage to get by and do all the work. You're the man (metaphorically speaking). By the evening he is long forgotten.
Because of all the hard thinking and other work you've done, now's the time to relax and revitalize with your friends. Just a quick refined drink and you're off. Back home preparing for yet another successful working day. However, this elegant evening got interrupted somewhere between third and fourth drink, when you already made peace with yourself about just being spontaneous. And speaking of it... how harmful could it be to write one short text message? Please. You are an adult perfectly capable of restraining yourself, right? Wrong. This civilized behavior turned into a texting contest - mostly to yourself - and by the time you've realized that no one hasn't replied for a while, you could not care less. That is, until the next morning. When the last of the scenarios above projected in your head. Not checking what you wrote last night, would have been the smartest thing to do, nevertheless, your curiosity have won. Wow. The extent of perversion to which a human mind can go. Wow. Amazing. Marquis de Sade would have been proud. All in all you cannot seem to decide why wasn't he replying anymore - perhaps he was masturbating all along and fell asleep in the middle, or his pure mind was completely destroyed by your filthy talk and he had to purify himself again by physical punishment? Or, and this is something you dislike, he is just not that into you?
Whatever the answer might be, you feel shame run through your body like electricity. Well, what's done is done. Next time... there will be no next time, because:

...or simply leaving your mobile at home?


Wednesday, December 5, 2012

A dangerous method of mulled wine

December brought first snow, holiday lightning and - our favorite - mulled wine. Freezing temperatures, light rain, fog and demonstrations against our government couldn't have stopped us from having our one, two, three cups of mulled wine. The company was sublime, as I have managed to gather (almost) all of my favorite people.
I really can't handle my drink, even if it comes in the form of cooked and half evaporated alcohol (perhaps something to do with the fact that my last meal was about 6 hours prior to my first and not last cup of mulled wine). Since almost every man in my presence had the need to pay for at least one round, I was hugging, loving and generally so excited about my friends by the early evening. Well, at least I am "fond of people", not "drama queen" type while being a bit intoxicated. 

A good friend of mine was also present and she has just acquainted me with her new male friend. She was in a right mood to confess they have been having wild sex for a while. And she couldn't get enough of it (the sex and the man).
We kept chitchatting, accompanied with mulled wine without exception. At one point I had to stop drinking, my limit has been crossed a while ago, or better yet, I couldn't see the limit line for quite a while. In this moment - more aware of surrounding people, I have noticed something else had stopped as well. Being around. My friend was gone and so was her friend...

No limits

As she suddenly reappeared, I have noticed a strange glow on her face. To a professional eye this glow looked as one thing and one thing only. They've just been doing it. I wanted details. I needed details.
In the old town there are very tiny alleys and even if the centre is crowded, you can still get away to a secret spot and have some privacy (or so we hope). They found such a place, suitable for some canoodling and a bit more. Pants down, legs up - you know the routine... As she was explaining where, how and more importantly how long, all I could think was: Honey, if can get it up after so much wine and perform in such a freezing temperatures... Then, he's a keeper.

Cheers to that!


P.S. As for me... I left my car downtown and took a cab. It was a stressful day ;)

Sunday, December 2, 2012

A quick guide or how to handle women

Recently I had a very pleasant drink with my ex-schoolmate. Not only is he incredible good-looking, he is also smart and fun to talk to (yes, I hope he reads this). Every now and then we grab a drink together and talk about, well, everything.
As the chitchat went on on this particular evening, the subject shifted to another level... Relationships, former, ongoing, men, women, sex and women again. More precisely what women want and why men can't understand them. This has been already discussed several times, mostly in books (Men are from Mars, women are from Venus has some good points, though), movies, TV shows... And no one seems to know the solution to the equation. 
Now, back to the story... I must admit, I felt kind of special, because he has chosen me to talk to about that and even more special because he needed an advice. There was something in it for me, too... I got  my blog idea (he agreed I can use it) :)

We talked about handling women. About having a guide to women's unexplainable behavior that no one can understand, even women occasionally (please, refer to the picture on the left... it might explain a lot).

Why are we interested in a guy, and than suddenly not anymore? I was thinking about it a lot... Women fall for another interesting man in short time, I guess, nevertheless, it seems men are pretty much the same regarding that. 
When women feel up to it, just grab a chance. It might disappear quickly, as we tend to change our minds frequently (just look at our hair, nails, style... hey, even the last name, though that's a bit trickier lately).

I find it difficult to speak for whole gender in general. From my experience and umpteen hours of conversing with ladies, I can summarize it with this: be bold. No, not bald, that's not very appealing, although with age it seems that's not a deal breaker anymore. Why not taking risks? The worse thing that can happen is a no. And no is already there from the beginning. If you don't approach is a no, since there was no chance to become a yes. How many time have we received no in life? How many are yet to come? No one's ever lost life because of a rejection (ok, I can think of silly examples, but that's not the point), just a bit of dignity, and that heals in time eventually.
I am a fan of Katy B, so the easiest thing to do is to listen this song, which in my opinion grasps the basics of what women want. Of course, until there are days like "I don't know".

Good luck and good night.


Thursday, November 8, 2012

The Gang Bang Theory

It is commonly believed that having sex with more than one person at a time is scandalous. Sure, it can be awkward in some situations (I can't stop thinking about the Borgias. The rumor has it that Rodrigo Lanzol Borgia's (Pope Alexander VI) daughter and son were involved in orgies together with their father, the Pope). Ok, awkward is probably constant follower, especially the day after; however, the feeling is obviously not strong enough to repel, otherwise people wouldn't be doing it for centuries. I have a sense it is sort of like being drunk. You know, talking rubbish, doing shameful deeds... And drinking again, although the moral factor did some damage the next day.
Let's talk some details and recent group activities, before judging...

The parking lot

A schoolmate of mine happened to be very promiscuous in her high school age. That's why it caught me by surprise to hear that she has had a child and is all serious nowadays. Still, it hasn't caught me by surprise to hear about one certain night on a parking lot. There was a threesome. Nothing unusual so far. Disturbing factor is probably the fact, that the person involved was a brother of another schoolmate, who she fancied for years, and some other guy (I have no idea about his background). Well, she used her childless years fruitfully (...interesting choice of words).

After art

Being an artist brings some perks regarding what is or what is not acceptable in life. So, the next story is fine in every aspect. That is if you are an artist.
A gallery opening was held on one warm night in one capital of one country. Plenty of arty and non-arty crowds, food and drinks. After bottles were half empty and the non-arty crowd sat in their cabs to get their drunk asses home, the arty crowd remained. Expecting something more. Who started the little Eyes wide shut game is of no importance (and, I have no idea about that). The reality was that that night couples weren't couples anymore, they became bigger clusters of naked people pretending to be in a movie. Is it necessary to mention that some couples were never couples again after that? Even the artist aren't what they used to be...

Not a real gang bang - but it sure must have felt like it

One acquaintance felt really bored at one point of her life. It was time to mix things up, so she found a very hopping way to do that. Bed hopping, that is. She wasn't actually dating anyone, but she sure made her bed as busy as possible. She was fucking four guys for a long period of time, many times on a same day. They just came in different shifts, as did she.
I remember she had hard times sitting on a coffee, not because her legs were restless, but because her vagina felt as if gone through a war.
I believe she stopped working shifts because she couldn't sit at her office desk normally, not because of any moral barriers. This story is kind of inspiring...

So, to conclude let me summarize: different people, different appetites.



Thursday, September 20, 2012

Printed chair

Yesterday was raining badly and jogging came out of the question. So, you need to keep yourself busy. This one is pretty easy.

You shall require:

  • IKEA chair
  • old magazines
  • multi-purpose glue
  • plastic cup
  • piece of sponge
  • colorless varnish for boats
  • large paintbrush

Disassemble the sitting part. It should come off easily. Prepare the glue: in a plastic cup mix 1/3 water and 2/3 multi-purpose glue. Decide what pattern do you want to have on the sitting part and cut it out from the magazine. You can use whole pages. Cover the chosen pages with glue (use the sponge for that) and place it on the sitting part. Wait until it dries.

The final touch is varnish. Use the paintbrush to spread it over chair.


Saturday, September 8, 2012

Pâté vs. vitamin water

My good friend moved to the USA some time ago to explore her possibilities. She is coming to her home town Ljubljana (the capital of Slovenia, for those unaware) every now and then, which usually results in many hours spent together upon her arrival. She told me plenty of stories, mostly hilarious, about vivid American imagination of the "other" part of the World. The World that is not America. Sure, the USA offer variety of opportunities for those who know how to take advantage of them, but let us take a closer look on average people. People that in my opinion represent classic Americans. And, yes, I might be stereotyping, but these stories are very much real.

Firstly, for the sake of introduction, let me tell you a tiny bit about Slovenia... We like to think we belong to the Central Europe (location could be right for that), but truthfully, everyone classifies us as the members of South-Eastern Europe. Nowadays we are forming a part of the EU (since 2004), however, Slovenia used to be Yugoslavia till 1991, and that's mostly connected to the questions about war. A war that actually did not touch us, at least not like the countries where the war really took place. There was one American, a journalist, which kind of makes it even worse, who thought we have mine fields. Mine fields? Google should be used more frequently, that's all I can say. 
Then the electricity. Questions about electricity were raised on many occasions. No, we still live in caves, and I use smoke signals to deliver my thoughts, which are then transformed by good people, still able to read smoke signals, to this blog. Bearing with question if we know who Sienna Miller is, is easy compared to that. Yes, we have TV, internet and gossip columns. 
Anyway, we are one tiny country, with approximately 2 million inhabitants, pretty much like canned metropolis. All in all - and what's the most important message - we have dolce vita you are dreaming about on daily basis. Just to give you the most precise description.

Now, let's return to my friend and her experience. These are more or less connected to the food. Eating habits differ from nation to nation and according to my opinion the Americans have by far the worst habits whatsoever. And food, as the matter of fact. Don't get me started with plastic vegetables, hormone stuffed chicken and one of the best inventions - VITAMIN water. I almost suffocated myself with exaggerated laughter when I heard about that. This is not vitamin water. It's just water with additives. We, Slovenians, like to call it water with taste. Because they add all sort of flavors to it. Artificial sugar mostly. Or the real one in some cases.

Slovenian food on the other hand tastes like real food. Our tomato is red and meaty when you cut it and we have bread to die for. Whole-wheat, buckwheat with walnut, white with olives... should I go on?

So, this friend of mine took lots of customs friendly food from home country with her when traveling across the pond. She ate it on her trips she had made while discovering natural (and built) beauties of the USA. On one special event she was sitting on a boat directed to Alcatraz. She took out her "lunchbox" and started to eat her delicatessen. A canned pâté. One of the most popular and tasteful in Slovenia - Argeta. A woman sitting next to her, very nicely dressed American, was eyeing her constantly with suspicion. When she encouraged herself to pop the question, amazing words came out of her mouth: "Sweety, are you eating cat food?" (Just to let you know, every time I think about that sentence I can't help but laugh.)
Her bite stopped in her throat. "No, this is pâté," she replied. "A what?" the lady went on. Not knowing how to explain and still petrified from shock, she just thought to herself "Lady, you have no idea, what you're missing." Amen to that.
My friend added, that the lady made her feel so embarrassed in front of the others, who obviously thought after the question was raised she must be sort of a freak (or at least homeless person pitied by some zoo employers).

After hearing that story I made myself pâté Argeta sandwich at 10 pm. Celebrating the unique taste, creamy consistency and knowledge about the existence of pâtés.

Bon appétit!


Tuesday, September 4, 2012

How bigamy can be perceived as monogamy or what is bigamous monogamy

After an indulging summer pause, I had a trip down memory lane, eagerly searching for interesting happenings I could write about. It seemed nothing was suitable for sharing. At least from my life. No deviant behavior whatsoever. Hence, no material for blogging. There was a sudden need to dig deeper. Into my friends' lives. Luckily, many of them have stories. Kinky ones. And definitely worth reading about.

We all have heard or even done the two men/women relationship. The parties involved don't know about each other, perhaps you tell a friend or, better yet, wait until it's all over, before you spill it out. Guilty as charged. It's a classic case of bigamy. Old as the human race itself (or at least as old as the invention of airplanes - bigamy always reminds me of pilots. Dunno why).
Lately, however, I've begun to notice a new dating sensation: bigamous monogamy. Confused? Well, allow me to explain...

Shift Relationship

One of my friends has had a boyfriend for years. That is, years, if you don't count all the break-ups in between that could occur even on weekly basis. It was by far the strangest relationship I have ever seen with a certain pattern. It nearly had a life of its own. Sometimes, when these pauses lasted for a longer period, the friend was partying wildly and as a consequence she made a lot of new acquaintances. In time, one special acquaintance resulted in a new found new boyfriend. So far, everything is going according to the standard track, however, make no mistake - she kept returning to her previous man all the time. The second player stood somewhere in the middle, hopping in and out of her life coordinated to her relationship with the first player. 
The most amazing thing in this alterationship (alternative relationship) is the awareness. The second knew about the first all the time, the first learned about the second in time and she... She was conducting this orchestra as if this was the most normal thing to do. How inspiring.
Just to make things clear, let me repeat. When she broke up with the first, she was dating the second, and when the things with the first cooled down, she switched back to him and turned off the second. I hope it is self-evident than none of the boys were aloud to have other women. When they did (this is self-evident, too, I hope), she put on a crazy woman attitude, screamed, dramatized, cried, fought and swapped between them constantly.

This codependent, coexisting bigamous monogamy is lasting for years now. Nothing has changed, apart from their age. Maturity is still in question, to be honest, for all people involved.

If it were up to me, I'd chosen the second one. It would take years to explain why, so I guess, you'll just have to trust me on this one.


Sunday, August 26, 2012

Pear Risotto With Gorgonzola

Idea for this delicious meal appeared in 2006, when I had the chance to taste the Pear Risotto in a tiny porterhouse in Pavia, Italy. That same little restaurant seems not to be operating nowadays (unless I have forgotten its whereabouts, and therefore missed it, while trying to visit it again in 2010), however, the memory of their food reminisces in my mind regularly.

This recipe is eclectic collection of several recipes I have found on internet and modified them according to my taste buds. I hope you are going to enjoy as much as I did on that specific day in Pavia.

serves 2 persons

  • 3/4 cup of arborio rice (it goes well also with whole grain, as long as it's short and rounded)
  • vegetable stock (instant soup in cube is perfect) 
  • small onion (I have tried also without onion, and I liked it even more)
  • olive oil
  • 1 cup of white wine
  • 1 very small bunch of freshly chopped parsley
  • 2-3 pears
  • 50 g gorgonzola cheese
  • allspice (I love to decorate it with allspice, and the sweet smell goes perfectly with pears and gorgonzola)

To cook the rise, you will have to prepare the stock from instant soup. Have in mind, that you will need about 3-4 times the volume of stock to cook the rice, however, be prepared to add some more, if needed. The volume normally depends on rice type - if it is whole grain, the cooking takes longer. When the soup/stock is ready, keep it warm aside.

Chop the onion finely and soften it in a pan with some olive oil. 
Now, add the rice and stir it for a minute. Continue by adding the stock and parsley. Cook the rice on a low heat as indicated on the label.

In the meantime peel the pears and chop them on cubes. Not too small, though. Set one third aside. Prepare gorgonzola also by chopping it on cubes.

Around ten minutes before rice is cooked, add white wine and two thirds of peeled pears. When almost the whole liquid (stock and wine combination) has evaporated, add gorgonzola and the rest of the pears. To serve use big plates and decorate with allspice.

Bon appetite!

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Tuesday, August 14, 2012


Yes, I've been on my vacations... Now, I'm back to reality ;)

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Dick ride

Every time when I think about my drained idea resources, my dear friends provide me with yet another story worth sharing. Again, such evening occurred yesterday and I still feel thrilled to have taken part in last night’s drink. To cut to the chase, there was much talking about penises and bicycle rides. You can’t seem to find any connection? Try harder...
A gorgeous friend of mine (yes, yes, tall, blond, long slim legs...) lives on the outskirts of Ljubljana. To go to work she frequently uses bike (perhaps this is the reason for her exquisite legs?). Nothing very unusual so far. It seems we need to go farther, so let’s do it.

Did you enjoy the ride?

Relaxing afterwork ride home can become a race in an instant, whether you are prepared for it or not. Coming closer to her house, there was on the pavement, sitting on a bike and embracing a traffic light, a slightly drunk person. To be quite honest and sticking to a facts in the story, it is fair to say that there was a very drunk man hugging the pillar. She passed him by with great caution as it seemed he might fall any minute now. However, his ability to sit upright so drunk on a bike triggered a pure amazement.
After a few minutes heavy breathing and undefined other sounds were coming from behind her back. She ignored it al long as she could, but as women are curious by nature, she had to turn and look eventually. Done so, she established that the sight was not so magnificent. The drunken dude was following her and - horror of all horrors - masturbating while literally chasing her. She pushed a little harder, her pedals rotating briskly. The drunken dude was still following her. How’s that possible? He was barely able to stand straight, but now he was performing his very own version of Tour de France. Luckily she was in shape and she could have gone like this for long, but there were some red lights involved (the traffic light - don’t get nasty-minded), so she had to stop. As she looked at him, she gave him the “come on!” look and said: Oh, come on! Could you just go away, please? His reply was perhaps somewhat different from expected: Just a little now... little... rghhhh arghh. Ahhhh... That was it. He had concluded his street art performance. However, Mr. Dick van Ride remained polite and even thanked her in the end.
Well, at least he had manners.
This got me to thinking... Is there any law that defines the highest allowed speed while masturbating? You know, something like Ministry of Health advises: don’t drive and masturbate. No need to speed under those circumstances.
Perhaps something to think about. They are discussing about useless laws all the time, anyway...

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

My way on the highway

The summer’s evidently started. Empty office desks, bars crowded in the evenings and roads fully packed with transitory or visiting tourists. As for me... I am still waiting for my dose of vacation pills. Not for long, though. In between scary-hilarious things shall and will occur. Like this one I am about to tell...
On my working day on the way from place A to place B, which takes about an hour, I had stopped for some coffee at a gas station. 
A major part of Slovenian gas stations has great sweetish tasting coffee from vending machines. If you’re reading this and would like to taste it, gas stations are called Petrol with red billboards all over. 
Anyway, on my way to caffeine injection, while holding a briefcase in my hands (this is very important), I had heard someone yelling after me. Noting specific, just hey hey! At first I hadn’t been sure, I am the person yelled at, so when the voice had come closer and hadn’t stopped, I had turned around. A young man, dressed like he was heading to the beach (obviously, you’ll understand that later) had been talking to me.
Me: Yes?
Him: Are you going to the beach? (you do see now the connection, don’t you?)
Me: No. 
A briefcase is according to my imagination a visible sign a person is not going to the beach, but what do I know.
Him: Aha. Ok. Just asking.
Me: Sure. No problem.
Let me mention, that place B I was about to visit due to a meeting, was on the seaside. Hence the briefcase on the way to the shore.
I had sat in my car and continued my working journey toward the beach with my coffee (and Twix, as the matter of fact).
Coffee gone.
Twix gone.
Soon after that I couldn’t help but notice that a silver BMW was constantly following me. As  it wanted to pass me by, my eyes caught the guy. That same guy from the gas station. Ok. Even more, while trying to overtake me (emphasis on “trying” - he did not try to do that, as the matter of fact), he just drove parallel with me. On a highway. For quite some time. WTF?!?!? Does my appearance scream The fast and the furious fan? Most certainly not.
I had remained calm, not looking at him, but just driving in my direction, constantly battling against myself not to show him the middle finger. Is this normal nowadays? Picking up a girl on a highway while almost flying on the road? 
No, I wasn’t really speeding. Yet. Until repetition occurred. He had started driving really slowly, I overtook him, then he tried to do the same. That happened a few times. Then I had had it. 
More speed!
Even more speed!
I had lost him before a tunnel... Story ended here.
Is there a lesson in it? Not really sure about it. I am kinda lucky not to get a speeding ticket. I seriously doubt they would be convinced by a stalker story. 
There are some details missing, such as my manicure performed in the car, because I wanted to look as stupid as possible - I thought he might give up on me. No. It didn’t work. Now he’s probably telling a story about a mad women doing her nails while driving. It’s fine by me...

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Old dicks, new tricks

Gosh, how I love creative weekends... And by creative I mean spending time with my girlfriends. This time it was the seaside. Although there was a lot of sleeping (just plain sleeping - the old-fashioned way, no bed hopping or anything promiscuous), some intriguing conversations were involved. Among us mostly, but that doesn't mean there's nothing new to add or, better yet, learn.

I always thought male equipment is divided to short, long, circumcised, uncircumcised, too big for hand-grab, too small for hand-grab and just right for hand-grab. Well, it came to my knowledge that there is much more behind this simple math that I've been living by for many many years.
Just to mention few, let me start with the worst kind. Cone-shaped dick. Apparently I can be extremely happy not to have encountered one on my journey of penis stories. According to my secret information source (perhaps penis moles?) cone-shaped dicks are a punishment for women. Physically and mentally (the latter because it takes much pretending to enjoy the activity). After first closer confrontation with the monster there is only one thing to do. And one thing only. To avoid the second rendezvous. My friend simply didn't answer the phone. For many times. It seems that the cone-shaped dick licked... ups, liked her, though.

Momentarily, mushroom season is off the topic, however, there's a certain type of mushrooms we need to mention. Again, I have no idea, what were they talking about, nonetheless, my penis moles didn't really approve mushroom type of penis. The head is oversized for the rest of it, so after first exciting seconds, inevitable disappointment follows. Waiting for something to happen... no. No proper action whatsoever.

Have you heard of a perfect penis? My friend's new boyfriend is in possession of a sample, as reported by the lady in question. Why do I know that? Simply because she is yapping about it constantly. When I hear the phrase Have I told you about his perfect dick? the hair on my neck stand up. Yes, she repeated it so many times that even grandmothers on the bus have heard the rumor, probably. Nevertheless, such jewels evidently exist. And girls love them. Boy, do they love them.

And now, last but not least, circumcised ones, or cabriolet, as we like to call them. I think I don't stand alone, if I name the group interesting. Geographically they are pretty rare in our European area, but I would give them thumbs up. Other ladies who have tested that kind of an instrument would more or less agree on the matter.

So, what's your favorite shape? Something to think and dream about...


P.S. Watch this trailer.

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Facebook life or the dying out of coffee or when is time to just stop?

I have joined Facebook in 2007, if I remember correctly. In December 2007, I think, and I was the late one among my friends.
Recent months were dedicated to shrinking my online personality, which goes for posting pictures and other online activities. To be honest, this decision came spontaneously, without much thinking. Somehow it seemed wise to me to deliberately stop using computer as much, since we all have to interact with it for work and everything else. So why not minimize it where possible. Facebook was the most time-consuming and the least intellect expanding. There was no competition. 
Are there any benefits? Without doubt. I read more books, go to hang out with my friends more - to be precise, the circle of my friends broadened - , and I have time. Just time on my hands to do whatever. To climb a tree, to ride a bike, to take a stroll, to sip coffee on a balcony...
Any negative sides? As well. But silly ones, like spending more money in bars while chatting with friends. And that feeling that somehow someone is forgetting about you because you are not online so much. As I said, silly.
Nevertheless, I believe we should socialize more in person, so here are some quite good examples of why you should post less and think more about what you’re posting, if you’re still doing that frequently... And yes, go out more.
You do remember the Haiti disaster, I guess. It was quite cold in Slovenia at the time and an acquaintance of mine made a relatively innocent comment about blankets that were being transported to Haiti - she was freezing and she wouldn’t mind to have one herself, so she suggested that a plane passing Slovenia dropped one at her door. Being a semi-celebrity in Slovenia this post was furiously adopted by many gossip web sites and the mini scandal began. 
Wannabe journalists (trust me, “wannabe” stands correctly here - you should see the level of “journalism” on those websites, and I am not defending her - trying to be very objective here) scooped over her past posts to reveal many jokes she posted that were not meant to go public. Ever. Even though the jokes were cruel, yet really really funny (some of them were an example of good old black humor), they were only jokes. Posted so many times by others. And I know for a fact from a person working in the same media house hosting the web site, that everyone was telling her jokes for months to come. And they all laughed. Strongly. But the damage has been done. Luckily, another gossip came through.
No. 2
This one is more international, I’d say. We all know Tracy. Yes, the OMG Tracy. The epic fail. I believe there are no words needed to explain this, the post speaks for itself. And it is very loquacious.

No. 3
Ant another one for the end. International dessert again. Why would you want to post that? Seriously. It’s bad enough the people involved have the memory of it.

Have a lovely evening outdoors...


Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Revolutionary breakthrough or how to up-sex yourself

Year 2010 seemed to be a disaster for many relationships. At least - so they say - in numerological terms. Also, 2011 and 2012 (I am not sure if numerology is to blame for that, too). So, how it all started...
Apparently with boring sex life. Or no sex life at all.

I have a friend, thirty-something woman. She has been in a marriage like relationship with a year or two younger man for many many years. As we became very close friends over the years, the truth about her sex life came round. Not a typical story for a hot (she is REALLY hot) woman and an attractive man. The only thing their sheets were used for was sleeping. And I mean tight good night sleeping. Solely. It turned out he has not been interested in her for years. Naked breasts in the morning pressed against his back, rubbing, touching... nothing! No reaction whatsoever.

Other things were going in a normal way, whatever that means for different kinds of people...

Then, something and someone got in her way. No, we're not getting straight to it just yet... He was a business associate and an obvious friend to be. Occasional drink, dinner from time to time and lovely chitchats. Life was beautiful and suddenly interesting - again.
Arrival of a confession of an attraction could be smelled from a distance. The predicted complication happened. She was utterly against any kind of duplicity. However, every action has a reaction and this one came to be a very impulsive one. Yes. The sex begins here. A very nasty sweaty head-knocking-up-against-the-headboard sex. Ah. Finally. She was alive!

So, she was alive several times a day sometimes, alive in the car, on the way to work, in a hotel, on a romantic weekend away, even while actually feeling the earthquake - no, not an orgasm, a real earthquake, although it seemed to be only in the her head.

These days she is getting informative texts about his erections then an there only by thinking about her. Supported by pictures from time to time. Even I am completely satisfied since there is something to write about. At last!

Everybody's happy.

Lesson? It is not a lie that women in their thirties are animalistic in bed. Oh, what is yet to come for some of us...

P.S. What happend to her boyfriend? I haven't heard of him for a while now...

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Naughty girl(s)

Current state I am in could be described as an intellectual blockade. Mostly in blogging/writing department. Which is sort of inconvenient since I have made a promise (to myself, more or less) about writing a column-like post every Tuesday (I wonder, how long will I be able to do that - it’s not such an easy task to maintain). For my lack of imagination this week, and the previous one, if I am being honest here, I decided to take a trip down memory lane. A story mentioned in the following lines is some version of the truth. I hope you can relate to that expression...

A special birthday celebration...

When ladies party they party hard. The roof can be very much on fire sometimes. Drinks make it all easy to forget and sometimes we never ever wish to remember. That wish is granted sometimes. The other times it is buried for a while until it pops like a sparkling champagne on a celebration night.
A friend of mine was marking an eighteenth birthday. The parties are usually wild, since this is the age you can officially start being a grown up (mental maturity comes after a decade or so in most cases). Liquor, booze, drinks, alcohol... However you name it according to your local rules, the effect remains the same.
At some point one of the invitees permanently and deliberately stopped drinks counting, which inevitably resulted in many embarrassing words spoken afterwards. Luckily, forgotten forthwith and never spoken about in months to come.
Now, you must be wondering how did all of us come to a knowledge about better-not-to-be-ever spoken dialog (or better yet, monolog). Intoxication level was not equal for all the ladies. Some of them remained quite clear and conscious, therefore also possessed a memory of that special night. So, they spread the word.
A friend in question never wanted to know about the exact happening and especially about the words spoken in that very night, so we kept our pretty little mouths shut. Until one sunny day spent on the seaside...
We competed with some men we had just met on a subject of the most embarrassing story ever happened to us. The friend from the party was not giving any material, since she thought of herself as a polite Eliza. For easier understanding, I shall call her Eliza from now on. The other friend, not knowing about Eliza not knowing of the events that took place on that special night, suggested her moment as the most embarrassing one, accompanied by an explanation:
While we were celebrating one birthday there was a group of guys we knew from our neighborhood. For the first time in our lives we were more drunk as them (trust me, this is an accomplishment). This Eliza character decided she likes one of the man in the group. So, she went to prey upon him. Although she knew he had a girlfriend and although she knew her. Oh, the girlfriend was standing on the other side of the bar and he was not even that handsome. The attack on the victim was direct. He was trying to explain about his girlfriend’s whereabouts. No success. Eliza was even more direct. She used specific wording, not a very fortunate one... What, you think that I don’t fuck better than you girlfriend? (At the moment guy’s reaction is not important, so we shall skip that. Besides, no one remembers it).
Eliza’s face turned purple. Instantly we understood that she didn’t know about that night. Ups.
No hard feelings in the end. We had a laugh, the one that causes pain in the abs department. Eliza won, by the way. You know. The trophy for the most embarrassing moment.
My imaginative friends saved my blogging for today. Look what they made me do... ;)

I cannot remember where was this picture taken from. I had it on my computer.