So what shall I write about this evening? Why not the voluptuous fulsome breasted screen actress Susan Sarandon…… and why not, regular readers to this my WordPress will realise by now this is a blog devoid of one single theme…………. and remember this is a JFF post not to be taken tooo seriously 🙂 .
Age shouldn’t matter when discussing whether a woman is sexy or not, but the shallow society we live in I’m afraid a woman’s age will still hug the headlines, as for me the best sex I’ve ever enjoyed has been with women over 50, Karina and Kamilla were their names and no we weren’t down and dirty in some sordid threesome, I met them both separately and the ladies were fun amusing confident and drop dead sexy, they gave great head and were fabulous lovers between the sheets
Anyways that’s enough about me.
Released March 20 here in the UK, Susan Sarandon 73 has a steamy threesome in the new movie ‘Jesus Rolls’, I obviously haven’t seen the film yet, but depending on the critics reviews I will go watch because I’ve always had a soft spot for Susan, and not only because of her large fulsome breasts and Red Carpet cleavage revealing dresses.
Susan’s new movie is both a remake of French film ‘Going Places’ and a spin off to the cult film the ‘Big Lebowski’ by the Coen’s brothers, I’m intrigued already and let’s hope the reviews are complementary. At one point in the movie, Jesus (not Christ) jumps into bed with Susan after her character ‘Jean’ is released from prison and celebrates by having a threesome……. whether she gets her boobs out remains to be seen?
No stranger to these roles, Susan starred in ‘The Rocky Horror Picture Show’ playing ‘Janet Weiss’, a sexy lady wearing virgin white bra and panties, the songs are awesome and Rocky Horror remains one of my all time favourite movies….. incidentally ‘Janet’ spends half the movie in her underwear!
Away from films, Susan’s no stranger to looking drop dead gorgeous on award ceremony red carpets, and often strealing the headlines from younger ‘prettier’ actresses. In my humble opinion Susan exudes feminine sexuality so why not reveal your assets even at age 70? I say if you have them, flaunt them and f#ck all those mortally offended trolls on Twitter.
Never shy of controversy Susan played the character ‘Hattie’, a prostitute in the 1979 film ‘Pretty Baby’, I’ve never watched the movie, but apparently the child prostitution storyline makes it diffucult viewing that’s still dividing critics…….and apart from going to see Susan’s fabulous plump high round boobs, this storyline doesn’t really appeal.
To sum up lol, if a beautiful actress remains drop dead sexy into her seventies, then I say keep on playing sexy roles for age is but a number, I’m hoping ‘Jesus Trolls’ is well worth a visit to the cinema so let’s wait and see.
Finally I make no apologies for sharings photos of Susan’s boobs and plunging cleavage, lol my WordPress so there! 😛
Tagged #Just For Fun and #sex-education info with no… and I do mean NO accompanying dick selfies, that’s just plain disgusting and just so as you know I’ve never texted one in my life nor ever will.
Regular readers to this WordPress just might remember a recent Birthday post, lol probably not, well one particular phrase has been ‘pricking’ my imagination ever since…..
“But I can still achieve an erection so ‘phew’ life’s not all bad.”
……… so I guess that makes this evening’s a prompted response? Incidentally pictured below a cartoon lifted from the net……. made me smile, 🙂
A question for you, do dick jokes make you laugh? If the answer’s yes, I’ve 3 Male erection jokes lifted from the internet and hopefully you’ll find them as amusing as I did 🙂… though keep in mind I’ve the sense of humour of a 13year old, but then haven’t all men?
1: The Priest and the Nun
A Nun and a Priest were crossing the Sahara desert on a camel. On the third day out, the camel suddenly dropped dead without warning.
After dusting themselves off, the Nun and the Priest surveyed their situation and after a long period of silence, the Priest spoke:
‘Well, Sister, this looks pretty grim.’ ‘I know, Father. In fact, I don’t think it likely that we can survive more than a day or two..’ ‘I agree,’ says the Father. ‘Sister, since we are unlikely to make it out of here alive, would you do something for me?’ ‘Anything, Father.’ ‘I have never seen a woman’s breasts and I was wondering if I might see yours.’ ‘Well, under the circumstances I don’t see that would do any harm.’
The Nun opened her habit and the Priest enjoyed the sight of her shapely breasts, commenting frequently on their beauty:
‘Father, could I ask something of you?’ ‘Yes, Sister?’ ‘I have never seen a man’s penis. Could I see yours?’ ‘I suppose that would be OK,’ the Priest replied, lifted his robe, and almost immediately he was sporting a huge erection. ‘Sister, you know that if I insert this in the right place, it can breath new life!’ ‘Is that true Father?’ ‘Yes, it is, Sister.’ ‘Oh Father, that’s wonderful … now stick it in our camel and let’s get the fuck out of here!’
2: A man goes to the Doctor for a prostate exam.
The Doctor puts on his rubber glove and asks the man to bend over, he inserts a finger in his ass and begins the checkup.
After a minute or so the doctor says, “Don’t worry, it’s very normal to get an erection during this exam.”
A little confused, the man turned and replied, “But I don’t have an erection?”
Doctor. “Yeh I know… but I do!”
3: Two guys standing on the end of a pier, peeing.
“Man that water’s cold.”
“Sure is — deep, too.”
All very tame reading, anyways they made me laugh and I did enjoy the Nun and Priest story.
So before reading this evening’s posting, tell me honestly could you explain the biological mechanics to a guy achieving an erection? Well truthfully I couldn’t have, still at the age of 54 my erect penis is as hard as a rod of iron, and being serious fo a second I thank the Lord I’m still able to get it up……… omg I cannot imagine the mental anguish and emotional suffering erectile dysfunction brings to a marraige, I’m not fooling around, any medical condition is awful and truly upsetting fot those concerned 😦 .
What IS an Erection? An erection starts in your brain. Something you saw, felt, smelled, heard, or thought makes your nerves send chemical messages to the blood vessels in your penis. The arteries relax and open up to let more blood flow in; at the same time, the veins close up. Once blood is in the penis, pressure traps it within the corpora cavernosa. Your penis expands and holds the erection. When the inflow of blood stops and the veins open, your penis becomes soft.
Having never used a cock ring in my life before, I’d suggest the point to this sex-aid will be trapping blood within the penis thereby holding his erection, and then I guess you can enjoy sexual relations to your heart’s content? Or until the kitty feels chafed and a little sore?
……. and again tell me honestly, did you know the biological definition of Ejaculation? I didn’t before this evening, I’d suggest we’ve either been on the receiving end of one, or have masturbated since being small children and just so as you know I jack off no more than three times a week, which according to the internet is about a guy’s average, the regularity dependant on whether our secretary at work flashes her right boob in my direction. I nearly ejaculated right in middle of a Group meeting for heaven’s sake!
What IS an Ejaculation? When you’re aroused, tubes called the vas deferens squeeze sperm from the testes toward the back of the urethra. The seminal vesicles also release fluid there. The urethra senses the sperm and fluid mixture. Then, at the height of sexual excitement, it sends signals to your spinal cord, which in turn sends signals to the muscles at the base of your penis. These contract powerfully and quickly, every 0.8 seconds. This forces the semen out of the penis as you climax.
Women reveal on Twitter, they’ve had a frigging enough of men sending dick pictures, they’re neither fun or funny, more to the point disgusting enough to make them gag, and the act of texting is both sinister and predatory…. like I said, just so as you know I’ve never sent one in my life.
So what of me? And regular readers to this WordPress will know I love talking about meee. Well seeing as you’re interested thank the Lord I’ve never had trouble achieving or maintaining an erection, btw 160mm is above average and we all know how size matters to us men, we’re very insecure when discussing our penis lengths, and like I’ve said before I’m a 5 minute ride to copulation kinda guy, any thoughts of maintaining my hardness for 2 hour marathon sex sessions are a complete anathema, perhaps I should buy a cock ring?
Nah I’ll give rubber devices a miss.
A jewel of inspirirational thought ‘hit me’ around about my Birthday, perhaps not the momentous awful day itself, anyways there I was standing beneath a hot steaming shower, as hot as I can physically bare, and I can picture myself now gazing down at my flaccid softened penis and saying to myself ‘omg you are over 50 years old!’ And yes we men do refer to our dicks as third party, now that’s a fair old age for such an important organ, over half a century we’ve been joined together and lol like I keep reaffirming, thank God the old man still works!
If ‘he’ no longer ejaculated, I’d honestly be beside myself with grief after enjoying a lifetime’s orgasmic pleasure, and still to this day I’m impressed by the visual display, watching it harden before my incredulous gaze, and the speed of erection never fails to astonish me, quite literally watching blood engorge from 50mm-160mm in less than 3 seconds is nothing short of amazing, and they harden at most inopportune sometimes embarrassing times, jeeze the tricks nature plays can be simply breathtaking.
Talking of the women I have slept with (and you can read many a true tale here on my blog) my erect penis has never reduced a woman to laughter, when dropping my boxers I always make a point of watching her face, hoping for a reaction, perhaps a shy lick of the lips soon followed by warm palms working their magic on my member, stoking fondling rolling dextrous fingers around the bellend, and from my experience women very nearly love my erection as much as I do. Incredibly I’ve never had to ask a woman to take me in her mouth but then does any man? Hmm that always appears to be a voluntary reaction on seeing a penis she likes… because believe me when I say size matters!
AND thankfully women cannot talk when their mouth’s are full! 😀
Haha that’s quite enough silliness for one blog post, I was about to wax lyrical on the joy’s of penetration but I’ll leave that ‘masterpiece’ for another day……. yep in conclusion I do still love my erect penis 😊.
………….and finally to the British comedian Billy Connolly’s thoughts on getting old, “never ever waste an erection.”
So what’s your preferred length of erection? Discuss 😉 .
The reason for this post is? Thinking aloud that’s all, idle thoughts🙂…… I’m neither whinging or feeling sorry for myself, employment is my choice to make and I know how lucky I really am.
Now just so as you know I’m NOT complaining, ok! I’m one of the lucky few to be in full time secure employment, for now, let’s see what horrors Brexit hopefully doesn’t have in store because, well there are good reasons why high European import taxes may effect my employer’s profitability, perhaps Brexit uncertainty is the reason for my unhappiness or perhaps there are darker reasons? Anyways that’s enough introspection for present…. perhaps there’ll be further thoughts to follow.
I awake every weekday morning at 5.45am, I battle a commuter 45minute bus journey to work, then work from 7.30am to 4.30pm, come late afternoon I battle an even longer return commuter journey home, only to walk through my front door at 5.30 evening time……. lol the same routine 40 weeks a year as I have done since age 16 years, but like I said I’m so very fortunate because a great many people don’t have paid employment and I’m FOREVER reminding myself how lucky I really am, but 16-54 years for heaven’s sake 😀 perhaps I should have changed carreers at age 30? Perhaps I’d be happier if I was married, then again blogger Skinny and Single said to me, “be careful what you wish for”.
Two videos this evening, me operating a metal turning lathe another featuring my workbench, the very same bench I first stood before 10 lol years ago.
Incidentally I’m NOT complaining, I enjoy my job and the 12 hours of my life everyday is worth it, pay’s the bills…… but what’s life all about, I mean what an earth is the meaning of life? I guess love your family also as much sex as you can find seems about right.
After re reading, the word ‘perhaps’ doesn’t half feature a lot, night all.
“And here’s me thinking I knew everything there was to know about women’s fashion….. turn’s out I didn’t”
I have a female breast tale for you this evening and if you’ve not read this blog before you won’t know of my (healthy) breast obsession, oh how I adore those warm squidgy bundles of fun ❤️.
As god is my witness, until researching this evening’s photos the phrase ‘button down boob gap’ was unknown to me, and here’s me assuming I knew everything there was to know about knickers bras and ladies lingerie, I’m a man of the world so how on earth did this phrase pass me by? For heaven’s sake there’s even a YouTube sewing video teaching women the tricks to avoiding this dreaded ‘peek-a-boob’ gap, and I’d suggest when a lady’s dressing of a morning or trying on a new blouse in a fashion shop fitting room, one thought will be on her mind….. ‘this blouse isn’t working you can still see my bra. ‘
Or for the more outspoken female readers amongst you….. ‘WTF! MY TITS ARE SHOWING!’
The organisation I’m employed by has a new female employee, a lovely lady what’s more she suffers from a delightful busty girl problem, jeeze how much personal detail can I divulge without landing me in hot water, just imagine the hoo-hah this post could create if heaven forbid she actually read it!
Oh well not to worry ‘in for a penny in for a pound’ as they say….
I’ll be completely honest with you dear readers, the lady I’m about to describe just might not bare resemblance to our lady at work, many people to their cost upload info onto the internet, fail to forget those ghosts and lurkers reading your blog might well know you in person…….. oh yes! So with anonymity clearly in mind hopefully my co-worker wouldn’t couldn’t recognise herself, now there’s a satisfying conceit if she suspected.
So let’s begin, 9.00am prompt last Friday morning, seated around an expansive meeting room table picture an assortment of professional men and women ranging from age 23-65, quite a demographic spread with the majority a male orientation, incidentally there’s a fair few cross dressing ‘trans people’ floating around our department but that’s a whole different blog post……. without googling does trans mean they’ve had their testicles removed? Or would that be transvestite?… God knows I’m too old to care.
Keep on message Andrew. You need to appreciate these weekly conferences are sooo boring, attendance is compulsory and so we’re told ‘essential’ but the jury’s out and I’m still to be convinced. Just so as you know, this table I’d liken to Christ’s final supper with the important Holy One keeping this tiresome charade in track. Now for the sex interest, seated to our messiah’s left sits his trusting secretary and just so as you know I’m in turn seated at right angles to this age 50 lady…… picture the scene, common you can work it out!
I’m an extra within this tiresome pantomime, my place is listen not to speak and mentally take notes for the following weeks tasks, so there I sat reclining back in my cushioned chair, facing the Holy One but three metres away, then omg several minutes in my attention’s suddenly drawn to our secretary’s ample bosom, a fine looking woman let’s call Clementine shall we. The first fleeting thrill of a Friday morning is her entrance for she wears age appropriate short dresses in summer, pleated skirts and sheer black stockings in winter, and believe me the penis anticipates her choice of hemline, now here’s a thought how many others are dreaming of sexual relations with sweet Clementine?
Absentmindedly listening to these lovely yet rather self important individuals is boring, but realising there’s a subplot, people vying for good favour can be entertaining and oh yes there’s plenty of bs! I invariably spend the entire meeting quietly people watching for if truth be told my presence is invisible to these intellectual superstars. Hopefully unaware, my eyes darted around the room often returning to gaze at Clementine’s bosom, a busty lady today wearing a buttercup yellow ‘button down blouse’ and floral skirt…… I’ve changed the colours but lol you guessed that anyway.
Studiously writing and scribbling down notes, a concentrated gaze never broken from her sheet paper minutes, time to time Clementine paused all the while listening intently to God’s weary sermon, she’d look up, then recline again to her prim up-right position, and omg it’s then I noticed as this lady’s blouse floated back and forth, a gaping hole appeared between the blouse buttons shrouding her bosom……. that caught my attention I can tell you!
Jeeze, I’d sell my soul for a squeeze and suck of her tits.
Now, I’m safe in the knowledge this lady’s most important weekly task is to take notes then later disseminate via email to present attendees, I’m safe then, she’s now dutifully employed and I’m captivated watching her large at a guess DD breasts, btw a fantasy induced wet dream of mine is to bend her over that table, pull her knickers down and thrust my penis from behind, but again that’s a whole other blog post.
Just so as you know I’m safe in the knowledge Clementine’s unfazed by my wicked attention, with breasted torso rocking back and forth, a small window would appear revealing yes her right breast, a pale pink blush in colour nestling within a padded half cup of white fabric, delicately cushioned, absent of frilly lace and a little grey having seen the inside of many a washing machine tub.
Yes Clementine this Friday morning suffered a wardrobe malfunction created by a combination of faulty blouse design and very large tits, massive boobs that today naturally separated resting to Clem’s sides and a half cup bra that was at a guess a touch tooo loosely fitting, ‘omg’ I thought to my self.. ‘ you’re showing an awful lot of skin’…. definitely not a Wonderbra.
My penis hardened regularly last Friday morning half gazing through Clementine’s button down boob gap, incidentally throughout my lifetime a vision I’ve clocked many occasions before, and I’m wondering now whether I’ll watch her erotic clothing performance ever again. For twenty minutes I half gazed at her right curvacious boob, half expecting a nipple areola to appear, I’m telling you now I was half expecting a rim of chocolate brown to pop out, my guess is yes, from my experience big breasted women with pendulous drooping breasts empty if milk after suckling several babies are expansive and brown, yep my educated knowledge tells me Clem’s areola wasn’t far off from revealing a nip slip….. oh well perhaps that joyous experience reveals itself another Friday morning.
I guess my only concern is one of feminine intuition, she studiously takes notes gazing thoughtfully toward the table, but is Clementine aware of piercing eyes gazing through her blouse ‘button down boob gap’? Truly scrumptious, who’d have guessed this phenomenon has a name, I didn’t!
Nope I’m not going to tell you the exact date 😀 for obvious reasons.
Yep another milestone has been reached, the 54th to be exact and today’s seems a little different, age 53 is only a few years since 50 BUT 53 feels awfully like I’m closer to age 60 than I dared to imagine, whichever is true there’s no getting away from the fact I am closer to the end than the beginning. 😦
But I can still achieve an erection so ‘phew’ life’s not all bad.
Yesterday I called around to my mother’s, gave her a peck on the cheek and then shared a cup of tea both sat in her living room, and doing very little else apart from chatting and listening to the goings on in her busy week. I used to feel guilty about visiting and lol not actually doing anything usefully productive, no gardening decorating or cooking for me yesterday but since my father’s death last year, I’m comfortable in the fact knowing she’s happy I visit twice a week, enjoying company with a friendly face, a listening ear to her internet problems or the goings on in our extended family….. Oh and a little juicy gossip we all love family gossip!
Mum’s financially comfortable she has money, if the house needs painting she’s happy to pay for it, though I do have to exercise the dog in return for Sunday lunch, a pretty good deal if you ask me.
Half tongue in cheek I asked mum “so what were you doing on the ‘th 1966?” To which she replied “yes I wonder what, but I know what your father was doing, he was clearing snow off the drive waiting for the midwife to arrive!”
Eagle eyed readers to this blog will know I have my own tenuous link to Google street, read here, if lol you can’t be assed, very briefly the second Google captured an image of my home, the bedroom curtains were drawn closed because yes a lady named Lilly was visiting…… say no more!
Without wishing to repeat myself, but I’m going to anyway, I did indeed date a lady blogger I first met on the internet, we’ll name Maria shall we? Yes I met her on the internet and Maria befits a lady of around age 50, well I’m not gonna call her Rhiannon am I?
Funny how people’s names follow generational trends.
I digress. Let’s be more specific shall we, Maria blogged on WordPress as did I, not this blog, no my first had to be hastily deleted because this irate woman tracked me down, I knew her and it’s a longgggg story!
I’m possibly unique amongst internet daters, probably unusual in that I’ve featured on various platform genres, a traditional designed and specifically catering for middle aged lonely hearts, another with let’s less loftier ideals, commitment free, morally questionable, not so much a dating app as a meeting for drinks and probably hopefully for sex…… btw we’re not talking Tinder!
Though I’d love to.
So how did our WordPress relationship begin? I first commented a post written by Maria several years ago, I’d never set eyes on her before and meeting her in the flesh for real was the last thought on my/our minds, but life has a funny way of taking you in directions you’d never envisaged.
My advice to youngsters, learn to be flexible, the life you hoped for at sixteen probably wont play out as you expected.
My blogging adventure first began purely for reading pleasure, captivated by a genre known as sex blogs, middle aged women writing of extramarital affairs, exciting tales of gang gangs and hot steamy sex, thrilling passionate romance and looking back who knows if their tales were true?……. Fabulous reads leaving only one question, how does a guy’s penis remain hard for hours upon end?
I’m gonna go off message again ‘for a mo’, because I have trouble staying ‘hard’ for any longer than ten minutes, a lady and I will strip naked, we’ll kiss and cuddle, excitement builds, breath quickens as engorged blood flows, we’ll lay upon the bed, I’ll slip inside and however hard I try to delay ejaculation…… five minutes later and I’m spent! One time I excited myself tooo such an extent massaging my partner’s naked back, oiled palms pressing into warm skin, smoothing strokes the length of her spine, her face turned to one side serene relaxed and content, then came my turn for some sexy fun, my lady lowered her mouth over my purple bellend, drew me across her tongue before seconds later creamy semen burst inside her mouth…… do I suffer from premature ejaculation or hyper excitement?
“Sophie… I’m sorry” I sheepishly apologised!
“It happens” she glumly replied, cum dripping from her pretty lips.
Where was I? Oh yes Maria the WordPress blogger! Soon after reading her postings, or perhaps I’d just started my own I cannot remember, as happens we kinda made a connection here on WordPress, over time we became blog pals, our comment chat became longer, evermore personal in nature for I am a friendly personable guy. I guess a trust blossomed over the coming months, singular replies became commentary threads, neither had alteria motives, neither expected or wished for any more than friendly evening conversation, but as you do, we shared thoughts honesty and experiences I certainly hadn’t admitted to other women and certainly not on the internet!….. and cutting a long story short, hilarity fun and truthfulness ensued.
Maria wasn’t so much a sex blogger she posted photos of her voluptuous large round breasts, nipples pieced with hoops of gold, ass cheeks, tasteful naked body shots but never showing her face… nope if I ever walked past Maria in the street, I wouldn’t have battered an eye and nor she. Her blog was far from slutty though, a warm caring personality flowed from her text, I was smitten by this happy go lucky rather sweet natured middle aged lady, if a little overweight but then again I’m no hunk!
Well several enjoyable flirty months passed, I posted photos of myself lying naked on my bed (never done that before or since) and God knows nudity was my last intention when I first started….. though ours was all good clean adult fun. Three or four months passed happily then we exchanged email addresses and moved to private correspondence, btw never again, take it from me email romantic relationships (I’ve had four) can only go so far before they become……
Well the day came when we first exchanged photos, finally positioning a face alongside months of reading text anecdotes and stories, and I for one was pleasantly surprised, I’m gonna say little else than Maria possessed a cheery smile sparkly eyes and a pretty face befitting a woman her age…… oh and laying on a bed, legs slightly parted revealing a hint of her pussy! Shaven it was!
Like I said we were blog pals.
We’ll leave Maria’s appearance there shall we, ‘walls have ears’, I trusted her photos implicitly, I had no doubt whatsoever Maria was sharing genuine recent photos of herself and I cannot stress that enough. I trusted her photos her honesty, and I had no doubt whatsoever if we met in person we’d instantly recognise the other.
Speaking from ‘not so bitter’ experience, photos are the dating deal breaker, when chatting with a woman online only one question nags at the imagination, a little voice reaffirming my mistrust of liars, wary the person I am chatting to isn’t the person in the photograph, but as transpired Maria was the lady in her photo.
…….. to be continued.
(I’ll leave you with one taster, yes we met in person and now to the $64,000 question, ‘did we enjoy our date?’ Yes.)
WordPress Statistics baffle me! How can a post written Sep 2018 be so popular today?
After 2+ years, 2 blogs and writing 375+ postsA Woman’s Cleavage (a cautionary tale)is my most viewed ever! Bar none! And the past 4 months alone have been 33, 43, 43 and 39 (and still with 4 days to go!)
It’s baffling…. a mystery and I just don’t understand why? Why aren’t ALL my posts THIS popular, what happened to my favourite My neighbour IS a Stripper!
But lol dooo you care?
I am an occasional reader of Blog statistics, carefully peruse and scrutinize my popularity, it’s a boy thing, numbers matter, size matters I guess God hard wired us that way!🙄
Our tour group was assigned a Yeoman Warder (above), a lovely guy his humorous and fascinating tour lasted one hour and interestingly they are ALL serving soldiers in the British army…. if you wish to upset a Yeoman Warder lol call him or her a tour guide, being an entertaining story teller is a prerequisite and you know how children love tales of murder blood and intrigue!
I wouldn’t imagine these photos taken during my 2018 summer visit to the Tower of London will be of terrifically great interest, but I feel passionately about the Tower’s 1000 year royal history and cherish the wonderful stories that it holds because I’m unashamedly proud to be British…. sometimes I wonder if I can admit such a ‘heresy’ within present day multi cultural Britain? Not to worry 😀 tonight’s post was as much an exercise in historical research for me, as well as an excuse to ‘show share’ my photos somewhere!
(Please note ALL the unpublished photographs below were taken by me.)
Our Yeoman Warder Guide would pause at points of interest throughout the Tower grounds, address the assembled group of tourists with captivating facts and lurid tales of murder intrigue and English history anecdotes I’d last studied 40 years ago!
One of the many legends to have grown around the Tower of London, is that of the Tower ravens. The legend states that if the ravens, which can be seen dotted around the grounds or perched on walls, should ever leave then the iconic White Tower would fall along with the entire kingdom (happened 2016 after Brexit!), incidentally it’s said to be King Charles II (1660-1685) who first insisted that the ravens of the Tower should be protected.
Long before the conquest, ravens had been a familiar sight in the streets of London, where they were welcomed as natural scavengers who carried away bones and edible refuse from the gutters. The legend of the ravens, and no one is quite sure by whom it was started, has become of such importance that for hundreds of years royal decrees have been issued protecting the birds… our Yeoman Warder said they can never leave, they cannot fly away because a vet has clipped a single flight wing.
I guess the saying ‘better safe than sorry applies’!
One Yeoman Warder is tasked with caring for the ravens and is termed ‘Raven Master’. Up until just recently 6+ birds were caged by the Wakefield Tower but have since been rehomed, and I guess rather than name the birds each Tower raven has a different coloured band on one leg, interestingly captive ravens in the Tower grounds have reached the age 40 years…… I imagine the lack of predators helps!
(Having said all below I wouldn’t worry yourselves, certain niches of creativity for example poetry might be copied, but as for daily bloggers you know writing about life, sharing thoughts and opinions I’d guess there’ll be ok…. anyways an interesting conversation all the same?)
Plagiarism on WordPress goes on, thieving of a blogger’s written thoughts and ideas happens, we all know it does and I guess it’s part and parceled in with the Gig…. not a victimless crime and the phrase ‘cest la vie’ comes to mind, but I’d love to understand the motivation of people who do it, what drives them to start a blog, copy other writer’s poetry and pass it off as their own? Can’t be the money because come on, does anyone really make enough here to live on?
Perhaps the problem is down to darker motives, envious of another’s popularity, wishing for thousands of followers (do they all read?) Coveting the hundreds of likes beneath a post, jealous of a comments thread 20 30 40 readers long, bitterness at the knowledge blog friendships nurtured over sometimes years are such fun. Yep I understand the attraction for the lonely, we all wish to be liked also popular, we all enjoy social interaction but plagiarising content just isn’t right.
My suggestion is give ‘original’ writing a crack… see where it takes you? Or perhaps a photo blog?
Plagiarism! def: The practice of taking someone else’s work or ideas and passing them off as one’s own.
My ‘Jojo Rabbit’ will follow sooon I promise, but I’ve thoughts of plagiarism on my mind, I’ve also to write of my experience dating a real life blogger I first met on WordPress, we became chatty in comments as you do, and writers I follow might knowingly smile because I enjoy commenting blogs I love reading….. and no one has labelled me a stalker… yet!
Those Posts will come, better to have tooo many ideas than none at all.
In my time loitering around this internet backwater largely left alone by assholes and bullies, I put that solely down to the lack of money making opportunities, writers are tooo intelligent to be taken in by scammers, and middle aged sex obsessed men don’t make for great marketing hook-ups unless you’re flogging condoms or private sexual disease treating clinics.
Where was I? Oh yes plagiarism, the theft of words and ideas. Before the lady finished blogging for good, a fabulous Canadian writer name ‘Skinny and Single’ recounted tales of posts she’d had stolen, rewritten onto fake blogs edited by sad individuals, ‘Skinny’ at the time was a blogging superstar. Then there’s my own tawdry 1000 word tales of bedroom sexual liaisons, fun facts about vaginas and observations of the human female mammal, have any of my posts been copied? ‘Skinny and Single’ replied my question, saying in comments ‘You will have been copied’.
‘Such is life’ 🙂 .
So have I been ripped off? Not that I know of, but after several years blogging, and hundreds of posts written I have NO doubt a post (or two) has been copied and pasted onto another’s blog, with their authorship beneath….. so do I wish to be notified? No not really, arguments would ensue, profanities exchanged, there’d be anger and we know how dangerous it is to make enemies on the internet, IP’s can be traced and I’m just not into dramatic conflict.
But I have no doubt I’d be upset, to read someone’s authorship beneath my post knowing how challenging I find the process would hurt, but I guess unfortunately plagiarism comes part of the Gig. As for me I’ve never copied, ffs where’s the fun in that! Yes I’ll read a Cosmipoliton magazine sex survey, feel empowered to run with the idea and then write my own responce……. prompting discusion is ok, theft is wrong.
‘Can I hand up my essay on Friday Miss. My ghostwriter is unwell at present.’
Have I breached Copyright? Have I frigging ever! This Blog is littered by photos downloaded stolen borrowed from the internet, yes guilty as charged and I guess I’m not proud of that, they enhance a post, make for lol fun clickbait, entice draw readers in…. hopefully! I guess I shouldn’t but I do attribute ownership where possible and I never pass off as my own.
(After a 5 minute period of introspection where hot ‘mint’ tea was consumed.)
Yes I agree with Hester in South Africa… if you wish to download one of my own photos feel free to do so, just don’t say it belongs to you 🙂 .
Jaded movie critics, film scribes who’ve sat through WAY too many cinema movies than is humanely good for them should lighten for heaven’s sake, jeeze some people are taking ‘JOJO RABBIT’ way WAY too seriously… in my opinion.
Yep earlier this morning I went to my Town’s multiplex cinema to watch ‘Jojo Rabbit’ and thoroughly enjoyed myself…. in fact I’ve been spoilt these last few months, I loved ‘Once Upon A Time In Hollywood’, rated ‘Joker’ as a classic and the best movie of the last ten years and whole heartedly recommend you go see ‘Knives Out’, that’s if Agatha Christie ‘who done its’ float your boat so to speak. (Wtf Andrew way too many metaphors in this post.)
My own JoJo Rabbit movie Review will follow sooon, I know there’s a skill in writing these and mine will be absent of all Spoilers… where’s the fun in that! 🙂 In the meantime I’ve linked a YouTube Trailer below for those who haven’t already seen it.
Back in the day I was a Boy Scout. What’s more did you know their motto is ‘be prepared’? …. Oh and what do you think of my novelty ‘Pac man’ alarm clock down below, the electronic synthesiser near gives me a frigging heart attack every morning!
So there I was 8 o’clock yesterday evening, seated in a comfy living room chair, laptop precariously balanced on my knee happily paging Amazon listings (new shoes), when ‘all of a sudden’ my home went pitched black dark! What’s more the freezer’s ‘humming’ electric motor stopped, as did trickling water circulating my radiators… for once there was light, moments later I was sat in confusion and eerie silence!
Yep the neighbourhood had suffered a power cut.
(And this is why I’m the guy who HATES sudden surprises).
Now disorientated, that iconic phrase ‘What The F#ck’ ringing about my ears, only then did I appreciate the full horror of blindness, all spatial awareness and sense of direction disappeared as I stumbled myself to the kitchen, pulled unit draws open, rummaged for a torch, matches, and racked my brains trying to remember if I had candles!
We merrily live through our days following time honoured routines, then some unforeseen event spins our lives into befuddlement confusion or worse, lol it’s not the end of the world but how does a guy manage to pee straight if he can’t see the toilet pan?
Yep times like these it’s the simple things in life that matter…. like owning a TORCH!
So the moral to my tale is, listen to your Scoutmaster and ‘be prepared’.
I KNOW a young lady who posts semi nude photos of herself on the internet, yep Lizzie (for the purposes of this post) shows scantily clad selfies of herself wearing colourful bikinis she’s gonna use on holiday…. and there’s more! You’ll hardly believe this true, but wow she also posts selfies wearing tasteful white lingerie… and you just don’t know how tempted I’ve been to post one…. all in the name of investigative journalism mind you!
However I’ve resisted temptation because posting on my blog is morally reprehensible, no just darn right wrong! Not forgetting revealing her identity could almost certainly get me the sack from work, infringe Copyrights on umpteen social media platforms, and most importantly of all might cause the young woman untold embarrassment.
That’s if she cares of course.
(I haven’t but jeeze I’ve been so tempted if only to prove a point…. honest!)
Let me expand this rather cautionary tale, perhaps it’ll interest you mums with daughters of your own? You see Lizzie works at the same place I do, and that’s all the detail I am going to divulge for obvious reasons, except she’s aged about twenty, an apprentice plumber (or perhaps not) by trade and a rather pretty young lady with I might add a cracking petite figure.
“Well Andrew that’s rather forward of you, isn’t it?”
Now this is where my tale gets really interesting, because a colleague happened across her Instagram account and btw not me! He’s never said how and I’ve never asked why, but I guess if you searched her name on Google, and she owns an Instagram account, then you WILL easily find her….. a cautionary tale indeed.
Well cutting a short story shorter, the majority of Lizzie’s photos are of pets Grandparents and friends and surprisingly accessible to public viewing (though not all), but there’s more! To my guys astonishment, Lizzie shares full body length photos of herself, captured in her bedroom gazing at her reflection in a mirror with a mobile phone to hand, and yes there are photos of herself wearing bikinis, clubbing outfits and omg white lingerie!
I’m not ashamed to say we men have all viewed her Instagram, it’s been passed around the department like naughty schoolboys sharing porn images with their chums….. btw I’d like to strongly protest that I haven’t downloaded these images.
I haven’t, but here’s the point I could have screenshot her wearing ******* print bikinis, I’d guess some colleagues might have but she’s over 18, they’re public viewing so who’d care if they’re into that kind of thing… and unworried if the wife inspects their mobile phone! 😫
So my question is, does Lizzie suspect we’ve seen these revealing photos, you know wearing her bra and panties? There’s a thought, all I do know is sharing compromising photos on the internet has consequences, nosy guys find them, images get uploaded onto porn sites AND potentially you could see one posted onto a middle aged guy’s WordPress.
MY WP! 🤫
Jeeze, now wouldn’t that have made for an entertaining read 😂 .
All of you have heard of the devastating fires raging in Australia. Countless of animals have lost their lives and their homes because of this tragedy, and sadly, many more will continue to suffer until these fires are stopped. It breaks my heart to see and hear about what is transpiring. I wish I could travel to Australia myself (and trust me I did look up plane ticket pricing – I can’t afford $1500) to save and nurture these poor creatures, but unfortunately, I can’t. Instead, all I can do is help raise money and share this fundraiser with everyone I know. Click the link below if you can donate even just $5 to WIRES Australian Wildlife Rescue Organization. Every little bit helps and is important to the lives of many.
I’ve relented up until now writing about the horrific bushfires raging through Australia, burning to the ground millions of acres of wildlife habit and killing a billion of this planets precious wild creatures. The images break my heart each and every time I watch my News feed, because like you all I fear this is the tragic future facing mankind, what next when politicians show such disregard for the welfare of eco systems and our natural world? Please we want action not more words, deeds helpful to the increasing list of wildlife extinction.
I’m fearful of the environmental tragedy that befalls us next, first the Amazon tropical rainforest burns now Australia, surely the time has arrived to say no more human births, no more! Not one further child must be born simply because our planet earth is unable to sustain human life and certainly not anymore more, we just cannot cope with this ever increasing population growth, feed the human infestation that’s consuming every Country…. you think ‘yo can’ avoid the effects of global warming? Dodge the bullet? Please think again. (Opinions my own)
Controversial views I agree, an inhumane personal viewpoint to say no more babies I know! But you tell me if I’m wrong?
Enough politics, I only upset readers when I share my political opinions.
Britain is today obsessed with selfish prince Harry shedding his royal duties, incandescent with rage that the taxpayer is funding Meghan’s extravagant lifestyle…. as for me I couldn’t give a shit, let’s forget these pointless celebrity sideshows shall we and discuss debate more important environmental issues, if we don’t then we face extinction.
Where do we go from here? We all have ideas yet each of us is weak and unable to answer the problems. I’ve not written before today simply because I cannot physically watch ‘day in day out’ the sickening devastation from down under, upsetting images that truly are the burning fires of Hell here on earth. I relented until today only to say there are times in my life where I have to dip my hand in my pocket, grasp my filthy lucre, give a monetary gift to help those less fortunate and in need, we all feel so awful and bereft of ideas yet cash donations will be helpful to so many.
Next heartbreaking photos courtesy of MSN, who I very much doubt will complain at people sharing, 25,000 koala bears have perished for God’s sake, I shuddered for a second writing that awful consequence of our selfish hatred for nature’s creatures, I truly felt all enthusiasm for life drain out of my body wondering what comes next?
So am I as guilty as the next person? Of course yes, and this evening feeling very ashamed of my own personal carbon footprint.
Just last week five British Supreme court judges ruled veganism can now be classified as a religion, yep no different to Islam Christianity and any other faith humans wish to follow. You’ll have to Google (if you really can be bothered) to read the case details and ramifications, because mark my words vegans can be an intolerant bunch, many with a political sinister agenda for sweeping change, if you eat meat then be prepared for persecution because they’re after us carnivores, and if you don’t agree with these fanatical uncompromising zealots then be prepared to change your eating habits……….. Oxford’s already experienced demonstrations demanding supermarkets stop selling dairy cows milk and more will follow.
That’s enough talk of religion.
This evening’s news was dominated by the horrific fires sweeping across Australia, heart wrenching scenes and a manmade global warming disaster that’s killed human life, consumed millions of acres of forest, reduced thousands of homes to ash and most upsetting of all animals, birds, reptiles and insects have perished, one billion to be exact including 30% of all koala bear population. I had to shut down my computer because the devastation, photos and wildlife deaths reduced me to tears, first the Amazon rainforest burned now all Australia and the magnitude was emotionally all too much.
One billion lost for Christ’s sake.
(I like vegans… really I do!)
So where does veganism fit into this tragic tale? Each and every morning on the way to work I call in at my local supermarket and buy a sealed plastic tray of blueberries, and everyday I feel awful because reading their country of origin near stings my eyes.
That country changes sometimes several times a week, they can be sourced from Chile, Peru, South Africa, Morocco and so many more, I glance up and down the fruit isle and there are punnets of strawberries from Holland, grapes from Algeria, there’s African dates, Turkish soft apricots and almonds from California………. ALL plant based produce requiring vast acres of forest land and gallons of fresh drinking water by the millions.
So I ask you at what point does farming plant based food (a fact forgotten by those ‘holier than thou’ self satisfied vegans) be classed as the devastation and destruction of wild natural habitats?
You want aovocado on toast for breakfast? Then understand they’re flown in by jet aircraft and farmed by Panamanian mafia gangs.
And don’t get me started on the tonnes of aviation fuel required to transport this tasty fresh produce across the globe? Airplane jet engines belching out tonnes of CO2 gases into the atmosphere, not forgetting the litres of water required to grow let’s say, a single raspberry bush………. and please don’t question my fruit growing horticultural knowledge because I grow my own raspberries!
So my message to vegans and their new religion is before you lambast us meat eating Nazis, remember veganism has a far greater environmental cost to this once beautiful natural world!
Rant over and I’m as guilty as the next man.
Pray for Australian wildlife if you believe in God, and let’s ALL change our buying habits shall we? I guess that means no more blueberries for breakfast 😞 .
A post inspired by a favourite female blogger (or in other words I copied her idea?)
Wow another year blogging and all with 82 posts written, which was a genuine surprise seeing as I was absent for three months this summer, then again I’ve always written in fits and starts, when the urge takes me, but that’s ok because the best piece of blogging advice I’ve ever been given is, be honest to yourself also enjoy the process, and I’ve been at times recklessly honest but that’s been half the fun!
I put my lost writing mojo towards the back end of 2019 down to Brexit, there’s no coincidence my period away could be mirrored to depression and the current shambolic state of British politics….. in truth I’ve fallen out of love with this my country which is a crying shame.
Enough of politics for this is a politics free blog.
Now for WordPress popularity statistics that are so important to some, me included and I’d be lying if I said Comments don’t matter, I’d love more but that’s ok we all find an audience… oh and I will admit to being a bit of a like whore!
A great deal less numbers than some but I’m more than happy…….. also this year I’ve been singularly viewed in Ghana Rwanda also Namibia, yes someone living in Africa has read a post and that blows my mind, hmm I wonder which one?
Well judging by my top 5 viewed posts, I’d guess said tale would have been sex related, such is the adult blogging tentacle outreach across our cyber globe……….. oh and I’ll forever wonder if I have a real life lurker reading from within the shadows?
Top 5 countries viewed from:
India🇮🇳 (that’s not quite the surprise you’d first assume)
Yes all sex related, in fact all my top ten are true tales of love and sex.
So begs the question, what happened to my series themed Trellick Towers? Or the social comment that is Sandro’s café? Or my day trip to atmospheric Highgate cemetery London? I guess the old adage ‘sex sell’s’ applies 😄
Sooo many questions!
Early January began with visiting my father in hospital, and many times again after he later moved in to a nursing home, a sorrow filled tale ending with his passing in April, and as many of you will understand the sadness and emotional turmoil death of a parent is life at it’s most brutal. I’ve admitted here before we weren’t very close, but I loved him and he loved me and I’m happy knowing we enjoyed each other’s company full of its ups and downs, I have no real regrets which I will forever be grateful for. Weeks before his death I remember the sudden urge I felt 11 o clock one evening, urgently rushing by bus to be at his bedside after for some unknown reason thinking that he’d pass away that same evening, lol I shan’t repeat his answer on seeing me, but it made both me and the Ward Sister laugh.
In the words of Monty Python ‘now for something completely different’, anecdotes ‘hot’ off the press from my all tooo active imagination.
This past year I’ve slept with 5 different women, not their real names but there’s Sarah, Shannon, Diana, Nikola and Sara, yes loving Sara a favourite lady of mine for oh so many reasons. I agree these are details deemed rather distasteful to share, but what the hell🤫 where’s the fun in not telling?
Truthfully I cannot remember where and when I discovered this what shall remain nameless website, but if you’re at all interested, chatting to a woman you’ve never met before on a legally regulated web chatroom for consenting adults is thrilling. Likewise arranging to meet her in some cheap Oxford motel is exhilarating, and if truth be told meeting these women is a military campaign in itself, there’s mobile phone exchanges taken from bleak hotel carparks, me dodging security at the revolving doors, a firtive skirting of reception desks without being called over and asked,
“Where do you think you are going Sir?”
Then there’s locating the actual hotel room after being texted the number, the nerve tingling moment she first opens the room door, the first time either of us see if our photos resemble those on said chatroom, and I haven’t been disappointed yet. Apart from 55year old Cara back in 2018 who omitted to admit she had a dodgy knee which meant during sex, after a vigorous bed bouncing cowgirl, she had to step off the bed to click her knee back into position.
Happy afternoons I sometimes think I live for, though perhaps emotionally unhealthy experiences and yet filled with such warmth fun and laughter, yes I agree to a lacking real love ….. then again what is real love?
After all said and done, there’s a wicked thrill to internet sex, a day full of unknown possibilities, thrills and excitement ‘pricking’ every sense of my body into life……….. and great sex, naked body’s entwined, caressing and squeezing tits, sucking on dry nipples and joy of joys feasting between her wide open thighs, lapping at baby soft skinned folds of succulent labia, the tip of my tongue searching for her elusive clitoris…… and yes I do love giving oral sex.
So what joy and horrors will 2020 bring? Well glancing at the clock on my laptop today is january 1st, and you know what that means, my obituary will never read ‘died in 2019!’
I have a Christmas holiday story of my own to follow tomorrow🙂.
There was ONE fun News story that made me smile over the Christmas break, appealed to my boyish sense of humour so to speak. 43yr old Veronica Duque is the lady’s name, a Biology school teacher living in Spain.
Mind you, I’d suggest you gotta be blessed with her lithe willowy figure to carry off a catsuit such as this.
Or is that Andrew being sexist again?
Well as the story goes, Ms. Duque began her lesson at Maria Teresa Inigo de Toro school in Valladolid wearing a white coat, then disrobed at an opportune moment to reveal a bodysuit depicting the inside of a human body, and all to help her year four class learn about anatomy:
“Visualise the disposition of internal organs” she later admitted to El Pais,
Adding there was “confusion, shouts, applause and some covered their eyes”.
And you guessed it, because we now live in a social media obsessed world a fellow teacher snapped pictures of Ms Duque giving the lesson, sent them to her husband who uploaded them on to Twitter where surprise surprise they went globally viral!
Don’t you agree Ms. Duque is a genius superstar of a teacher? What better way of making a class more practical and relevant, capturing the attention of her students for what can be an interminably tedious subject, all in all a fabulously creative idea to nurture a child’s imagination.
No doubt there’ll be killjoys on Twitter calling her unprofessional but I think she’s a creative influencer, just imagine sitting in her class and gazing at her perfect figure with all human organs correctly displayed where they should be. I’ll go further, I’d suggest you’d learn more about human anatomy in one hour than you’ll learn for the rest of your life.
Apparently she has other creative classroom ideas!
Mild sex themes and written just for fun. Intrigued? Then please read on.
So Andrew why retell this true story in a blog? Well sex themed posts are a lot of fun to write and this one’s definitely unusual, mind you ladies names must be changed or you just might receive angry NO furious texts 11 o’clock at night, a long story read here…….. though on reflection I wouldn’t bother.
So with secrecy also discretion clearly in mind, let us name our lady err Lilly!
Don’t you think ‘Google street view’ is the most amazing website ever created? Now here’s a switched stream of consciousness for you. Ten years ago the thought that you could log onto a PC, enter a house number into a Google search engine, press ‘click’ and you’d be whisked to the exact location on a digital map was the stuff of dreams, you can even do this on a phone for heaven’s sake. What’s more you can move a yellow avatar, drop him onto the chosen house number and by the wonders of near science fiction itself, the screen will change to a street level photograph looking directly at the house you’re searching for.
Incredible, and because human beings are prone to breaking the law, you’ll gaze at alternative views and in effect ‘case the joint’, garden gates that may be unlocked, windows that could well be left open, all in all a website that’s tailor made tool for house burglars.
One evening several years ago, laptop to hand sat in a comfy living room chair, I located my own home on Google street having decided to take a nose around my neighbourhood, we’ve all done this and fascinating this car like journey can be to.
(As an aside my mother discovered a neighbour had built a swimmng pool in the garden she hadn’t known about! 😀 )
Ahh before I continue, below are two ‘screen shot’ images of my own home taken from Google street, but note all sensitive information has been blanked out, I don’t want any cat burglars robbing my home when I’m out!
Incidentally, many years ago I was standing at a bus stop yes waiting for a bus, and this van slowly drove past with the name Google emblazened across the side, and with what looked like a tripod fixed to the roof taking 360 degree photos from the road, I’ve since located that bus shelter to see if the camera captured me but of course all us prospective passengers were blurred out.
BTW as is the number plate of the stationary Mini convertible outside my home.
Anyways there I sat driving an imaginary car ‘up and down’ this quiet street I live in, and I can distinctly remember wondering who an earth owned that white Mini half parked on the pavement? Now I don’t own this sporty little car, neither do my neighbours nor any of my friends family or acquaintances. Well this started to bother me, just be aware I live in a very quiet neighbourhood with lots of road parking space, yet this Mini sat directly opposite my front door, no question in my mind the owner was visiting me, was I out perhaps at work? Who were they?
Then after half an hour or so of wracking my brains, like a streak of lightening I remembered it was Lilly’s car, yes at that very moment a Google van drove past, this young lady was inside my house and now I remembered she’d said her own car was being serviced in a garage, and she’d been loaned a white Mini courtesy car for the day.
Well I was chuckling to myself well pleased I’d solved this worrisome conundrum, then lol a second more wicked thought crossed my mind, and yes as I zoomed in closer to the second floor bedroom window, the curtains were drawn closed and note in the daytime, why would my curtains be CLOSED?
I know exactly why, Lilly was in my bedroom that’s why! 😄
Well turns out at the very second the Google street van drove past photographing my house, for absolute certain I can say without any shadow of doubt, Lilly and I were having sex in BED together, now there’s a thought, could even have been the very moment I climaxed as she rode my penis cowgirl. Now if you are interested and I know you are, cowgirl is my very favourite position, heavenly sex for lazy men. I can visualise Lilly now with her long blonde hair, a pretty ‘blank’ year old with trim figure firm strong thighs straddling my groin as she breathlessly rode me like a female jockey astride her stallion.
(I mean sitting on her horse ‘bobbing up and down’ as it raced to the finish line!)
Keep up 😀 .
Lovely lady was Lilly, with her firm to grasp high round boobs and bubbly personality, I’ve seldom had more enjoyable fantastic sex than with Lilly, she could even swallow my entire 160mm shaft down her throat……….. with condom fitted of course. Hmm happy days and she had the cutest little kitty!
Now come on! Tell me if I’m wrong, what are the chances that anyone can pin point where they were, or what they were doing at the time Google chose to ‘upload’ a photo of their home on the internet?
Can you ‘top’ that with your own unusual tale of coincidences conundrums and science fiction technology?
To a person all of the bloggers I follow here on WordPress have written their own Christmas themed post, and seeing as the Christmas lights in my own home Town are absolutely (blank) rubbish, I’ve photographed several trees around Oxford instead although the lovely specimen outside St. Johns college Oxford didn’t come out so well, shame really because the large multicoloured light bulbs made for a spectacular sight BUT alas not for my phone camera!
My place of employment lies in the heart of Oxford city, I’m a lucky boy because within 5minutes of leaving work I am quite literally walking amongst the dreaming spires of Oxford, magnificent buff coloured buildings with their own ‘Quads’ enclosed behind high walls. Without fail throughout summer or winter you will find trucks of equipment brought in by motion picture companies for series such as ‘Morse’, the ‘Harry Potter’ films and SO many more period dramas.
The phrase Oxford University can confuse people because no such place exists, wander the city streets in the heart of Oxford and you’re amongst Colleges dating back to the middle ages, and it’s those constituent Colleges which make up The University. As always happens wherever you live upon this planet, you take the place you live in for granted, look at my photo of Oriel College and you’ll see the entrance to a 17th Century building, itself situated upon College land that can be dated back to 1324 in the middle ages……. lol beat that you Americans 😀 , incidentally there are four other Colleges older than Oriel.
Oxford’s a beautiful city to visit if you ever get the opportunity, unspoilt Colleges museums and green parkland all protected by strict planning restrictions, and if I’m ever walking past College entrances, the fact many famous scholars have entered these oak wooden doors in their time as undergraduates isn’t lost on me, whether that be kings queens poets writers movie stars also politicians, talented minds from right across the globe have studied here and below I’ve included five famous graduates from Oriel College.
Notable students (alumni) include,
Baden Powel founder of boy scout movement Cecil Rhodes founder of Rhodesia (Zimbabwe) John Spencer-Churchill, 7th Duke of Marlborough – Undergraduate 1840, politician and grandfather of Sir Winston Churchill Thomas Fairfax, 6th Lord Fairfax of Cameron – Undergraduate 1710, friend and patron of George Washington. Walter Raleigh – Undergraduate 1572 to 1574
Wishing you all a very Happy Christmas, (and note I haven’t mentioned the word Brexit, hopefully in 2020 there’ll be an orderly withdrawal from Europe but I have the feeling Cameron ‘The Great Destroyer’ and Boris ‘Trump wannabe’ Johnson won’t have made that process pain free or easy…….. oh well as the old adage goes “remember, all you have to do is keep on breathing”)
Below you see two photographs taken by me, a depiction of the identical rural scene one looking from afar, the other a black van waiting at the gates of a level crossing. (Please read on if you’d like to know a little more?)
Yes I’ve been creating videos (below) and uploading onto my YouTube channel again! This time it’s Model Trains, or more specifically photos taken the day I visited Warley Model Railways Exhibition late November 2019.
With a playing time of 1.34 minutes, that’s a long movie for me!
What better way to begin the day than a pipping hot Cornish Pasty purchased at the train station, I might add be impressed with these photos taken on the move because that’s a skill you just cannot learn!
And the Crowds of people (below)! I’m coming round to thinking there’s just tooo many people living upon this tiny island in 2019, I travelled by train to Birmingham’s NEC and stood for one hour on the return journey home. The station concourse was packed! The Exhibition Hall was ‘heaving’ yet did thin out as the afternoon wore on. Again lol notice these were taken on the move hence the blurred ‘out of focus’ carpet, like I said these are far from easy photos to take.
Now don’t laugh, yes the majority of paying public visiting that particular November Saturday were 95% older men, and lol most above a certain age but hey as the saying goes.
“Every man needs a hobby… keeps them out of mischief”
Or in my case cheap motels and sex crazed women you can meet off the internet…… incidentally there’s plenty of true tails to read here on this my WordPress.
Ever since I was a young child I’ve had a fascination with model railways, my mother even has photos of me aged 4 standing beside model layouts designed and built by enthusiasts, I have locomotives a little track and controllers in the attic, whether I ever get around to constructing my own layout God only knows….. but when you wake every weekday morning at 5.50am and return home 6.30pm after a day at work, then after making an evening meal, washing the dishes blah blah blah, that doesn’t leave a great deal of spare time especially when you realise scratch building ONE single tree would take hours days even!
Model Railways are a true test of patience, they’re a labour of love and similar to all hobbies consume vast amounts of spare time, a luxury most of us just don’t have what with families and occupations, oh and of course hobbies have to be SUPPREMELY FUN or what’s the point?………………. So my plan on retirement, which seems a long way of judging by the precarious state the British economy, is to build my own model railway on a wooden baseboard in the attic lol or where ever.
Hmm but sadly I don’t imagine I ever will, I’m in love with the idea of recreating an idyllic 1950’s branch line, with a steam train winding it’s way through a fanciful rural British landscape that’s long ago disappeared, vast open fields and meadows now consumed by red brick housing estates, but hey in the meantime a man can and gaze into the proverbial ‘sweet shop window’ that is a hobbyists Exhibition!
(Deep down I know I’ll never make one, but day dreaming is nice 🙂 )
I do love these railway modellers attention to detail (above), pictured left religious Monks of all people wandering the grounds of a Monastery, to the right a gardener tending his village allotment.
Above a car accident, again a depiction of idyllic 1950’s Britain with a countryside road accident and obligatory fire engine, ambulance and police in attendance, the modellers true skill is attention to detail and of course depicting realistic scaled scenery…………. and I guess drama helps the interest!
Below the centrepiece steam locomotive also a 1950’s vintage bus.
So there you are, photos taken by me at the Model Railway Exhibition November 2019, to be more specific Birmingham’s NEC in central England.
Several weekends ago, eagle eyed readers to this WordPress may have seen my architectural series of posts titled Trellick Tower! Well seeing as I was in London I took many photos throughout the day and thought I’d share within a post, and why not because I really enjoy looking at personal photos from bloggers I follow.
A London themed ‘photo dump’……………. as the cool internet bloggers say!
Is it me feeling jaded and forgetful, or do Christmas celebrations seem to arrive earlier and earlier each year? Hmm I’d guess a mixture of both or in other words I’m getting old!
Stepping out into the sunshine from London’s Underground Railway Station, and btw it takes a great deal to surprise me these days, the sight of a ‘full blown’ ice rink was the last thing I’d expected to see, oh and accompanied by gleeful shrieks of joy from skaters young and old.
……………….incidentally adorned with the most impressive Christmas Tree I’ve seen this year. (You should see the pathetic example my home Town erected last week!)
….……..and before you ask NO I don’t ice skate.
Below a typical London Tube Station, and I do love riding the Underground system of subterranean tunnels crisscrossing the city, with its interconnecting stations whisking commuters out into the suburbs, and if you’ve ever visited my Capital city then you’ll know this is the quickest and most efficient way of getting around. Just a matter of metres above lie Streets choked with traffic now travelling slower than the horses and carts of 200 hundred years ago.
I secretly took these photos below of unsuspecting fellow passengers with heads bowed gazing into their media devices, it’s always interesting to reading the posters and gigantic screens advertising theatre shows whilst riding the escalators.
Below modern day versions of London’s iconic ‘Black Cab’ and scarlet ‘Red Bus’, images you’ll have seen working these same streets 100 hundred years ago and even earlier by horse and carriage. And here’s a topical fact you won’t have heard of, before becoming Prime Minister Boris Johnson lying asshole and then London Mayor reintroduced an updated Routemaster bus, and I’d suggest there’s more than passing resemblance to the old one pictured beneath, they even have conductors walking the isles selling tickets to tourists also commuters.
Having time to spare also a one day all access travelcard to hand, I briefly visited St. Pancreas railway Station notable for it’s incredible gothic architecture, you’ll not see the like of this grandeur built in London ever again. (Below)
Metres away from St. Pancreas Station home of the Eurostar, you’ll walk through the entrance of King’s Cross Railway Station surrounded by cheap Hotels and rented apartments and YES prostitutes servicing horny male commuters…………. and YOU think I’m joking for comic effect!! (Below)
The gigantic red poppy inside King’s Cross Station marked the Remembrance Sunday celebrations that same weekend, the fact many hundreds of soldiers departed this Station for the trenches in World War One wasn’t lost on me………… and sadly many didn’t return home.
Hmm….. I’m wondering how many people when they gaze to the roof will notice King’s Cross new Station ceiling? Nearly as impressive as the train hall itself.
And because I love trains, I just had to take some pictures of locomotives below!
Walking on through King’s Cross station and quite by chance a famous nameplate caught my eye, eblazoned across the front cab of one locomotive read ‘Flying Scotsman’, though I have to admit looking considerably less spectacular than its steam predecessor bearing the same iconic name. (Notice the very same roof canopy, lol interests me anyway 😀 )
So there you are, photos taken by myself from a daytrip to London earlier this November.
Original fiction written by myself (Andrew 🙂 ) and after rather painful reading one week later, I wished I’d waited because lol the beginning to my ‘erotic’ tale is rather painful reading. Just so as you know I’ve edited slightly, lol you live and learn!
Let us agree to descibe this as flawed but fun?
(And btw a tale of Voyeurism and NOT the movie ‘Rear Window’)
🙂 Now please read on………………………..
One late summer’s evening ten or so years ago, standing whilst leaning against my bedroom window-sill I gazed out upon a typically British urban scene, though not necessarily looking at the detached house of my neighbours opposite, if you really wish to know and I hope you do for the purposes of this tale, I’d awoken that summer’s night to watch one of natures true wonders, sheet lightning illuminating the pitch dark sky accompanied by ear shattering claps of thunder, so loud I’d flinch with shock! I don’t believe in God and creationism, but watching this impending thunder storm, a true marvel of our natural world, I couldn’t wait for the lashing rain, perhaps on evenings such as these I’ll contemplate ‘the meaning of life’, because surely some divine ruler must have created this spectacular display!
So I’ll ask you a question, before an electric lightning thunder show consummates with a pavement smashing deluge of rain, transforming the air icy cold within seconds, how do they begin? Yes and I hope you’re keeping up, that particular evening was uncomfortably warm, a humid balmy atmosphere meaning sleep was restless if not impossible and if you are unacquainted with British weather, evenings such as these happen only three or four times a year in Britain and looking sideways at houses along my street, all my neighbours windows were open with curtains gently fluttering in time with the humid breeze.
Then all of a sudden, catching me totally unawares, an attic room light switched on in the house opposite, a white light so bright against its dark brown tiled pitched roof, this room glowed in the night. The shock quite startled me from contemplative thoughts of life wonderment and creation, and for the life of me I suddenly felt the urge to all but stumble toward a bedroom shelf and grab my pair of birdwatching binoculars and btw I’m NOT a ‘peeping Andrew’ by nature, but yes I’ll admit to watching pretty ladies boobs. Binoculars in hand, I hurriedly returned to my bedroom sill position steadying myself looking at the attic room window across the street (and please be aware I’ve never done this before or since, as for legalities?) I’d propose ‘an Englishman’s home is his castle’ and this bedroom window is mine to peep through if I so wish………… now call the Police!
(Ok I’d agree watching through binoculars was a touch creepy, hey ho!)
With my two elbows propped upon the sill, I can clearly remember physically trembling as I brought the binoculars up to my eyes, then seconds after locating this brilliant white light, finally my neighbour’s room focussed into view and wow that window opposite flooded the optics in entirety and clarity. As if only metres away, I could clearly see the room inside with it’s white painted walls and a second window directly behind looking out onto the farm fields beyond, because this attic room sat below a roof sided apex, it’s very own bedroom walls have you will, only the centre part of the room was tall enough for one person to stand upright in.
Remember this fact because it is important to my tale!
Now to my second heart stopping shock of this truly eventful evening, sparking my imaginations alive the silhouette of a middle aged woman walked into the room’s centre, a slim bodied female pausing opposite our bedroom windows and WOW lucky me watching from across the street. I of course knew this lady well, and let us name her Helen for the purposes of this tale, there she stood motionless, a handsome looking woman 55years old if a day and no taller than 5’5″, yes she’s a girlish Grandmother in the autumn years of her life but with her slender figure, pert bosom and wrinkle free skin, I’m here to tell you mature lady Helen would make many a young buck’s groin twitch hard!
I gulped and swallowed, my trembling hands trying their utmost to keep the binoculars steady, yet my imagination has seldom felt more alive before or since because I’m telling you now, watching any woman is thrilling and sure to make my penis throb hard.
Though the thought crossed my mind, ‘Helen could well be aware Andrew is spying through her window?’
And so for half an hour or so, playing out before my disbelieving eyes began an eroticised performance a guy wishes for in his wildest dreams, sexual fantasies of near naked women sending him to sleep, curled fingers reigning in his bucking hardness, tingling balls within a bulging scrotum ready to shoot their warm sticky seed!
With every nerve in my body electrified alive, I watched as my neighbour Helen wandered the tiny space for what I always assumed was a bedroom, left then right she moved but always returning to her room’s middle window and my transfixed view, only disappearing for seconds at a time, Helen would pause motionless and the thought crossed my mind ‘was she hoping expecting I’m watching her slim figure clothed by only a mustard yellow tee shirt?’ Oh and white shorts clearly visible above her deep silled window.
Then suddenly she turned to lean out the opposite window, gaze for herself at the electric lightning show beyond, and oh my god like a proverbial streak of lightning, I realised those weren’t shorts Helen was wearing because in the process of stretching and leaning forward, the tops of two pink thighs came into view exposing just a hint of rosy buttock cheeks, oh my sweet Jesus… ‘Helen wore panties and NOT shorts after all!’
Shocks like these aren’t healthy for a man my age but instinctively I knew I’d never watch the like of this ever again, secretly viewing attractive knicker wearing women come only once in a lucky man’s lifetime.
Perhaps now bored of watching God’s lighting show, or having decided Andrew had seen quite enough of her ass, Helen glanced into the room’s centre and proceeded to shock me yet again. Holy %&’$ is this woman trying to murder me for in one choreographed graceful movement she slipped off her panties before tossing to one side so revealing a triangular mop of brown pubic hair to match her locks of brunette, a shoulder length style that suited her thinnish pretty face for as I said Helen’s a handsome woman.
Now naked from the waist down, well just below her hairy covered vulva and no not even my binoculars could focus that passport ‘slit’ to heaven, Helen again began to glide her tiny bedroom space all the time with pieces of cloth to hand, five glorious minutes passed by though I have a feeling Helen’s laundry folding display took a good while longer, yet again catching me unawares my sexy neighbour paused, her slim body framed picture perfect behind the attic window, her pretty face wistfully gazing across the room through a stare of deep concentration, and that’s when the ‘proverbial penny dropped’, at last I understood the reason she’d stare into space, ‘Helen’s gazing at her reflection in a mirror opposite isn’t she!’
Placing two hands aside her hips, she all but swayed in a rhythmic arc, first to the left then to the right all the while eyes fixed upon a distant object perhaps a full body length mirror? Oh yes I’ve never been more certain of a fact in my life Helen was admiring her reflection of that I’m now sure, then catching me quite unawares how many more times can this happen? She smoothed her hands across the cotton tee shirt, palms gliding up and over two gentle mounds of pert peaky bosom, only pausing to cup hold and squeeze and why not for she possessed a shapely pair of tits.
My groin ‘bucked’ as if about to ejaculate creamy sticky semen, but I didn’t cum as pleasure giving chemicals coursed through my brain, I gulped hard to catch a breath because for truly the first time that humid summer’s evening, I sensed something near unbelievable was about to happen yes and oh my sweet Jesus yes, Helen began to remove a last remaining garment, with two hands gently clasping the hem of her tee shirt, in one flowing movement Helen drew the garment upwards over her head with long hair pulling messily through the opening, before tossing to one side. And there she stood, motionless, eyes transfixed to a reflection gazing back, very nearly naked with her mopped pubic hair, a pink slender torso and breasts enclosed within her brilliant white bra.
‘Yes a bra! And there’s me assuming women just don’t bother when at home?’
God knows how I didn’t cum, though I could hardly breath through cheeks burning hot and a heart racing so fast it was surely about to explode, and there Helen stood for what seemed minutes thoughtfully admiring her beauty with pursed amused lips and hint of girlish smile. Yes she appreciated her aged body because Helen was still a handsome looking lady, then just as my trembling hands calmed she reached behind, stretching her arms she fumbled the clasp on her bra band allowing the delicate garment of intimate lingerie to fall from her body, hoops of bra strap slipping down smooth skinned arms towards the floor.
And there she stood motionless, my sexy neighbour from across the road stark naked from just below her waste up, two gentle mounds of small pointy breasts and if my eyes didn’t deceive me I’d guess they were a double AA cup. Que the culmination of this evening’s excitement, almost the instant she dropped her bra I climaxed, came hard within my night time boxers shorts, and all without hand stimulation for remember they gripped my binoculars! Feeling my groin ejaculate warm sticky semen stream across my inner thighs, and if you’re really curious my first hands free orgasm at the sight of a naked woman.
Two thousand seconds had ticked from the alarm clock on the bedside table, that’s how long our strip show lasted, a voyeurs delight the like of which I’d only seen in ‘dirty videos’, and now as Helen smiled at her reflection, my breathless mind began to regain composure, feeling utterly exhausted I lent back perching on the side of my bed, nights such as these come but once in a lucky guy’s lifetime, and as for all you readers shaking their head and muttering phrases like,
“Dirty Peeping Tom!”
Remember the window I gazed out of this balmy summer’s evening is on my property, yes you could label me voyeuristic and pervy, but this view is mine to own and I would suggest to any lady undressing herself naked, perhaps it’s prudent to close one’s curtains first!
Though hold on just a second, there’s always the hope Helen knew I was watching, timed her attic room strip after seeing my silhouette pressed against the bedroom window, watching this spectacular thunder lightning show. Hmm maybe she wished me to watch? Perhaps she hoped I’d be naughtily masturbating at the sight of her youthful Grandma’s breasts? Who knows but those two thoughts amuse me to this day whenever we meet in the street, hmm are we both playing mind games of,
‘You didn’t know I was watching on that warm summer’s night……. did you?’
So how did my sultry evening’s tale end, I guess after minutes of looking admiringly at her nude reflection and why an earth not, well as abruptly as this theatrical show began, so just as abruptly ‘came’ the finale or as I’d like to muse Helen thought I’d seen quite enough nudity. Just at that point of orgasm she disappeared from view, the attic room turned pitch black and I placed the binoculars upon the window sill beside me. Yes this once in a lifetime finished with my pleasured body cooling, my conscious mind happy and spent I quietly watched tonight’s thunder show’s final climatic scene, the air temperature tumbled as cooling rain lashed the tarmac road opposite, so cold in fact I returned to my bed a satisfied but exhausted man.
😀 I gotta leave you with a question, if you caught a glimpse of a sexy person undressing in their bedroom, would you watch or turn away?
(I hope reader’s enjoyed my tale and for those who didn’t, a photo post follows sooon……… unless I change my mind………. which I often do!)
Monday’s post (tomorrow) is original fiction written by me (Andrew 🙂 ). So a question, does that post require an introduction? No not really, read my ‘previous post but one’ if you really want to find out, on the other hand no I wouldn’t bother, all I will add is I’ve loved writing these ‘sexy’ stories because they’re such fun to do, mind you they take an age to dream up! Now for a little self promotion, you’ll find many sexy tales on my blog usually featuring women I’ve known…….. name’s changed which goes without saying!
I had intended to say ‘My Neighbour Is a Stripper’ is a blend of facts and fiction, maybe it is maybe it isn’t, but you cannot be tooo careful can you! Ok read Not my first Blog if you must 😀 where I explain how a real life woman I knew discovered my first blog, which just goes to prove friends and acquaintances read our blogs not forgetting there maybe lurkers reading from the shadows.
Hmm I’m still unsure if I’m happy about this one?
Before I break off for the evening I’ll leave you with one other true story, many months ago I wrote a post themed women’s chatrooms, they’re not quite classed as sex workers as in prostitutes and porn stars, no chatroom ladies are just like you and I, they’re trying to earn money to pay the household bills and feed young children, good on them if men wish to pay purchased tokens and entice them into consensually taking their clothes that’s fine by me.
However to make my post a little more I guess personal, I shared the title page of one particular chat lady to emphasise my point and make it more entertaining, with both name and website changed which goes without saying! Then blow me if several days after posting a woman commented asking to remove the unamed photo from said post, because wait for it…………………….. the photo was of herself!
Well that was a shock and a half I can tell you, what odds that a chatroom stripper happened across my blog post? I near couldn’t believe it true however certain fact tied up, anyways she was very friendly and not the least bit upset, I removed said photo and she commented back with heart and laughing emojies, adding she did actually quite enjoy the post but just goes to show you never know who’s reading 🙂 . If I was careful back then, I’m doubly careful now!
Are you familiar with that British culinary tradition ‘the fried English Breakfast’? I’d suggest even if you live abroad you’ll have heard us non vegans may well start the day with a fried egg bacon and sausage, a side order of buttered slices of bread and a steaming hot mug of builder’s tea! Now be aware I don’t begin everyday eating this ‘fat laden’ potential heart attack, but if I’m day tripping in London (for example my visit to Trellick Tower) I will attempt to find a High Street Café such as Sandro’s in Notting Hill N. London.
……… and NO this post isn’t another themed Trellick Tower!
I prefer to travel light if I’m out and about on a weekend, a rucksack camera waterproof jacket and a little cash is all I require, well after several underground train rides earlier this November, I walked a short distance into the heart of Notting Hill and happened across Sandro’s pictured below. A traditional English cafeteria which has all but disappeared from our High Streets, they do survive and can be found in large Towns and Cities but more often than not these cafés have been replaced by that culinary cancer that IS McDonalds………………. you’ll never find me eating a ‘Big Mac’ in these God awful ‘restaurants’, identical neon eyesores you’ll see the length and breadth of Britain devoid of all character and tradition.
Yes I agree Sandro’s doesn’t appear the most upmarket looking establishment from the outside, though once inside, heat from cooking stoves warming the coldest customers walking in from ice cold November Streets, this ‘homely’ café with white Formica tables and London photos adorning its walls, has a welcoming ambiance befitting the average working man or woman.
And I wonder is that Sandro himself preparing my breakfast behind his counter? No idea, lovely food though and ALL for a little over £5, which surprised even me knowing how expensive London is to live in these days! Burn every KFC and McDonalds to the ground that’s what I say, and let’s have a return to our traditional English cafeterias please 🙂 .
(I AM joking btw.)
Now I’m the first to admit I’m far from a particularly skilled photographer, but I’ll always have my small £8 eBay digital camera to hand (all the photos on this my WordPress are snapped by this internet bargain buy), and as well as taking photos of Brutalist 1970s Tower Blocks, I’m sharing pictures of London taken that same day………. not particularly noteworthy APART from I do enjoy looking at ‘naturalistic’ personal photographs, especially if taken by bloggers I follow from across the globe.
A London themed ‘photographic dump’ (a phrase the cool kids use) to follow.
Blogging Thoughts Photos and Life isn’t my first foray into the world of blogging, oh no for sure several followers will have remembered my first WordPress which ended it’s life rather unceremoniously, if not darn right hastily 18 months ago. Cutting a short story shorter, a lady I’d known in real life though not seen for a while sent me a message completely out of the blue! That was a shock and a half I can tell you, the tale get’s worse she’d happened across my Blog hadn’t she and I’m still uncertain how but we’re friends of a sort again……………. thankfully.
Well if I told you this lady had been unhappy that would be an understatement because she was frigging apoplectic angry, though I think the personal language and questioning my parentage was a little uncalled for! And the reason for her enraged messaging was all of my own doing, I’d broken a golden rule every blogger should adhere to hadn’t I, I’d shared our tales of sex and bedroom fun and games with the blogosphere and unforgivably gone and used her real ‘first’ name. Well (as you would) she’d recognised herself within the pages of our saucy true tale, and soon after demanded I delete my Blog.
I replied asking if I could just delete the offending post but no this angry lady demanded the whole Blog be deleted NOW. We messaged back and forth with me slowly coming to the realisation MY blog had go, a realisation this regrettable episode was wholly my fault and of my own undoing and closing served me right, so reluctantly I agreed and closed my first WordPress along with all posts lost also a sobering lesson learned! Then again perhaps this scenario only applied to moi? This ‘inconsequential’ mattered because I’d written saucy tales of sexual liaisons with a mature aged lady I’d actually known in real life……………… when I say aged I don’t mean Grandma aged though she ‘was’ a little overweight which is fine 🙂 .
As I said a painful lesson learned though this lady and I are on friendly terms, and I have met with her again but the nature of our relationship was fleeting anyway. So yes the blog had to go this eventful evening long ago, and with it months of written postings were hastily deleted, a handful of electronic files disappearing into cyberspace without a copy being retained, and here’s a thought where do our deleted posts finally end their days?
The point to this tale is yes all content was lost which in hindsight wasn’t a bad thing because the first few were pretty awful, and I’m glad I started afresh with all new writings photos and opinions, however there was one favourite ‘stripper’ tale I wished I’d kept (but didn’t) and I’m now in the process of rewriting, oh and note totally unconnected nor starring that messaging angry lady.
The moral of tonight’s story is bloggers take care when retelling true as happened stories, but I’d suggest there’s no need to get tooo stressed and panicky, just be watchful with the personal facts you divulge because you never know who’s reading? Perhaps always be watchful someone you know could be lurking? Hmm there’s a thought for all you writers. Anyways no harm was done just ‘a little milk spilt’ and an important lesson learned, and I doubt many people read said tale.
So wrapping up this morality lesson I restarted all over again, and the lady hasn’t been in touch since which is a crying a shame because she REALLY did give good head!
(Btw I’ve a stripper true story which follows sooon.)
Perhaps the reason for feeling so down these last few months is little easier to explain than Brexit, the never ending bombardment of truly apocalyptic awful news stories near drain the life out of me, so much so and truthfully I haven’t watched a complete edition of TV News in probably three years!
(Shamefull, that’s truly what’s called sticking one’s head in the sand.)
And yes you did read that correctly, I’ll go further I seldom read Brexit news stories emblazoned across my workmates daily copy of ‘The Metro’ newspaper and ANNOYINGLY I have no choice at the moment, Brexit news stories appear on my laptop homepage and I cannot get rid of them! Yes I’ll Log-on to be presented with a feed of ‘personalised’ stories chosen by Microsoft because apparently I either need or wish to read them! I don’t, but there’s ALWAYS one story that will suck and draw me in, guaranteed to leave me despairing hopeless and thoroughly depressed.
Or perhaps the sadness I feel is that I’m nursing a belated broken heart, you see my father passed away last Spring and now after that first shock, days of funeral preparations, the emotionally draining cremationhas long passed, perhaps my state of mind is little harder to explain than a delayed reaction? We weren’t that close and now I harbor guilty feelings……. but there you are life goes on 🙂 .
Brexit and personal grief are a ghastly combination enough to drain the life blood out of even the most optimistic of cheery souls. Then again perhaps my current downhearted despair is little harder to explain than I haven’t slept with a woman in what seems ages, after all the fleeting ‘pleasures’ a male’s righthand brings has its limitations! An afternoon with Diana would truly gladden the heart, rejuvenate and nourish my downbeat soul, I love her beautiful Polish mind and gorgeous body and seldom felt more alive than when laying beside this wonderful sexy siren’s naked body…………..Diana’s the most exquisite firm plump tits you ever did see ❤ .
Now lol I’ve truly romantic ‘powerful’ ballads performed by two icons of 1980s popular culture, Bonnie Tyler’s ‘Total Eclipse Of The Heart’ and Carol Decker’s ‘China In Your Hand’, they never fail to bring a cheer my sad soul and modern day classic tunes from my youth, just one thing! Make sure you turn up the volume and play them LOUD!!!
So let’s just say I win the lottery, gifted the riches to purchase the home of my wildest dreams and desires, which home do I choose? A quaint pretty cottage set within deepest rural Oxfordshire, a perfumed wild flower meadow with babbling brook streaming through long natural grasses, lazy days of watching butterflies and keeping bees or purchase a top floor duplex apartment in London’s Trellick Tower?
Hmm, I’m genuinely in a quandary deciding which to choose.
For fear of repeating myself you really should read my previous two posts if ‘this’ phrase Trellick Tower intrigues you.
(Five minutes later)
So you have returned, thank you 🙂 (oh and please note all photos taken by myself and feel free to copy if you so wish 🙂 )
So returning to my question which home do I choose? Well, as of this moment and similar to many a rich Londoner in 2019 I’ll purchase both, the idyllic country cottage for the weekend and Trellick Tower for living in Monday to Fridays……. though I have the feeling the shine and novelty would sooon wear off!
But Trellick’s renaissance isn’t a totally happy tale. Originally designed by Ernö Goldfinger as cheap social housing back in 1972, now that ‘brutalism’ has returned to being fashionable and in vogue, a sickening process of ‘social cleansing’ is taking place across London. Private equity firms are purchasing these concrete high rise living spaces from cash strapped London Councils, decanting poor renting families into cheap low level housing, then selling these Tower block apartments for millions of pounds! And here’s the irony, these until recently hated concrete homes in the sky built for the poor, are once again deemed cool living yet only affordable to the rich and wealthy.
And now to Ronan Point where the high rise dream came quite literally crashing down!
The now demolished Ronan Point, a 22 story tower block built as affordable housing, opened in 1968 but tragically partially collapsed soon after unveiling to residents and public. Poorly designed and shoddily constructed Ronan is the complete antithesis of Trellick built but a few miles away in Canning Town East London. On that fateful day 16th May 1968, only two months after Ronan’s completion, a gas explosion caused the collapse of one entire corner of the building (a resident lit a gas stove to boil a kettle), killing four people and injuring 17 this terrible disaster rocked people’s confidence in the safety of high rise living. A judicial enquiry soon followed leading to an overhaul of existing building regulations after uncovering design flaws associated with side wind loading, fire damage and small explosions..
Looking at the photo above I’d suggest the scars of bolted together walls also off-site prefabricated construction are clearly visible, a truly horrific photograph in so many respects leaving Britain’s housing dream in tatters, the consequence all Public confidence was lost in high rise living and has never returned even 50 years or so later……….. such an ugly building as well.
So what fate awaits Trellick Tower? Now Grade 2 listed and deemed architecturally important by the great and the good, this once reviled building is fashionable again, now privately owned and having been made from quality materials I’d suggest this iconic building will outlive me! And truthfully speaking I’m still unsure why I love this building so? All the more strange knowing that I hate concrete tower blocks with a passion.
I hope readers have enjoyed these three posts written from a personal point of view, if you wish a little more insight and detail then I guess the internet is the place to go!
Theme for this week is Trellick Tower, Notting Hill west London.
Brutalism, def: ‘a stark style of functionalist architecture, especially of the 1950s and 1960s, characterized by the use of steel and concrete in massive blocks’
….……… and by any stretch of the imagination Trellick Tower’s an exercise in Brutalism with a capital B!
I’ve been sightseeing in London again, though this time with a sole intention of seeing for myself Trellick Tower also for my first time, an image I’d seen in many a film, documentary and magazine photo yet had never witnessed in the flesh so to speak……………. viewing something you’ve so wished to see, but only ever seen previously via media is an emotionless second hand experience, only when you see a Cityscape (artwork) with your own two eyes do you know if it lives up to ALL the hype.
(I’d go further, add Trellick to your list of buildings to see if you ever visit Britain’s capital city and you’ll not be disappointed.)
Walking through the Notting Hill’s side streets, my eyes attuned towards the skies hoping for a first glance was an interesting experience, think for a second, how often in life are you consumed by an eager anticipation over an extended period of time? Hardly ever! You’re aware of a soon to be emotional experience, your imagination will be pricked alive yet you don’t know how you’ll react, BUT you know the reaction will be either excitement, incredulity, amazement, maybe a ‘what the fuck whatever’, or a total letdown disappointed…………. but not to worry my initial reaction as Trellick Tower loomed in to view, dominating the skyline above £2,000,000 homes was:
‘Wow, what a beautiful building………. yes I’m SO pleased I came to see!’
Trellick Tower bewitches me, fascinates me, I’m in love with this building so much so I’d do anything to live within one of those top floor self contained apartments for just one week…………. goes without saying because the views across London (I’ve never visited mind you) must be absolutely stunning.
Designed by the architect Ernö Goldfinger in the late 1960s, Trellick Tower is one of London’s most iconic Modernistic apartment blocks, deemed architectural important, and yes his name inspired Ian Fleming’s Goldfinger of James Bond fame (Fleming hated Goldfinger with a passion.)
These concrete monolithic tower blocks were the answer to Britain’s postwar housing shortage, brutalist architecture of the 1970’s now has a notorious reputation, more often than not they were poorly constructed by cash strapped City Councils, with the worst examples populating British cities up and down the land having long since been demolished, and I’d guess both former residents and neighbours living beneath those monstrosities whooped cheered and clapped as they watched them reduced to rubble.
However today 50 years later Brutalism is being re evaluated, the most hideous examples are no more and destruction wasn’t to be Trellick’s final fate, remaining as a beautifully proportioned profile and I particually love the balconies looking across London, lucky residents although they do look extremely dangerous! Trellick Tower is preserved for the nation and according to a recent BBC documentary loved by the residents who live there, one glorious example remains to this day and to be quite honest I’m unsure why I appreciate this building so, an instantly recognisable icon joining an illustrious ‘grade listed’ club alongside notable examples such as The Tower Of London, Buckingham Palace and Windsor Castle……………… and I might add a worthy of inclusion.
I’ll finish this evening’s post sharing (borrowed) photographs taken from inside but alas not by me, and WE all love looking inside people’s homes don’t we?
Now be honest, you’re all busy people, do you really want to read a blah blah blah blog where I list the reasons I stopped posting? No of course not, just so as you know I’ve reignited enthusiasm, there’ll be no sex and silliness (that’s a lie) and I’ll be returning with several London themed ‘photo dumps’ (that’s a term the cool kids use), in other words that’s sharing photos I’ve taken to you and I.
Been a while, so what have I been doing? Worrying about Brexit for one (sooo upsettingly depressing), reading blogs written by the (many) middle aged women writers I follow, and for the purposes of today’s post and several to follow, I visited London today, walked the City’s streets (note I’m not a hooker!) and ‘snapped’ lots and lots of photographs.
Only trouble is I’m unsure if any of you lovely people remember me since three months ago, of course you lol don’t? But not to worry as I’ve always said to myself, if at least one person enjoys reading an always original post written by moi, then I’m a happy Andrew.
So why visit London? To see for myself a British architectural icon that is Trellick Tower situated close to the Borough of Notting Hill, and yes that is the ‘Notting Hill’ movie of the same name starring Hugh and Rene, also home to the world famous Carnival. Incidentally the short video below features this 1972 Tower Block built to satisfy Britain’s post war housing shortage, Trellick is now a Grade 2 listed building, a structure recognised by people the length and breadth of Britain with a very short film uploaded onto my YouTube Channel.
(Are you surprised a concrete block of flats has preserved status?)
I’ve never seen this Tower Block for myself before today, it’s an impressive building all the more notable because every major City has been demolishing these grey concrete monoliths, poorly constructed, hated by the residents and quite rightly considered a disastrous exercise to provide cheap social housing for the masses, many have been pulverised to rubble. Isn’t hindsight a wonderful thing, Tower Blocks became synonymous with all that is wrong with inner cities, magnets for drug taking, physical assaults, isolation, deprivation, poverty, devoid of human scale and with a complete absence of (yes) private gardens so loved by the British public, all in all an expensive social engineering project that went disastrously wrong!
HOWEVER with London’s housing shortage now at epidemic levels, gazing out the coach window as the city scape passed by, I noticed shiny modern examples are rising lol like a phoenix from the ashes, with I guess many a lesson learnt?……… I do hope so! Yes Tower blocks are disappearing, yet Trellick remains and what’s more it’s Grade 2 listed which means the City planners CANNOT pull it down. Now for a confusing dichotomy, I for one love this important building which surprises me when I hate concrete Blocks of Flats so! 😀
My favourite blogger LA over at wakingupthewrongsideof50 has been discussing accents, by that I mean the spoken accents we all have, either a product of the surroundings we were brought up in, or a particular way of speaking imprinted upon us by our parents. As for myself and thanks for asking I have a regional shires accent, Oxfordshire to be more exact and more than a little rural when played back to my listening ear………….. and for some reason or other a Polish lady I work with has trouble understanding what I say? Makes me laugh anyways as she leans in because I just know she’s having problems!
I haven’t posted on this Blog for months now though I do avidly read the latest thoughts and writings from bloggers I’ve followed for many months, even years! But as for me I’ve kinda fallen out of love with life, I’d suggest the fragile human spirit isn’t strong enough having to live through Britain’s Brexit debacle, so much so I rarely watch the News anymore which isn’t a healthy way to live and guess what? I’ve started receiving Party political junk mail through the post………………….. can anyone tell me if there’s an election on the way?
(So unfortunately Boris didn’t die in a ditch after all!)
Oh yes returning to accents or the distinctive way of pronouncing language.
Reading through comments also replies to LA’s recent post on the whole written by Americans, I was struck by the number of commenters who were of the same opinion, namely we’re elitist towards certain groups of people based solely on the way that they speak. Yes we do judge one another’s intelligence dependent on their accent and yes regrettably we do assume certain regional accents are superior or inferior to our own, and I’d suggest will have a part to play on how far we progress in life, or our ‘given choice’ of employment.
Although distinct British accents are perhaps disappearing I have my favourites also those that grate on my ear so to speak. Sad to say I’m lol neither a fan of the ‘Liverpudlian’ or Birmingham’s ‘Brummie’ accent which does come across as slightly dim witted (awful to admit), though I do love the broad Yorkshire accent of my Grandfather and have a particular soft spot for a North Londoner’s accent………. cockney is a little tooo comedic for my ears and by that I’m not referring to Dick Van Dykes laughable rendition in ‘Mary Poppins’, no I have to admit I do love a North London.
So why have I attached Pink Floyd’s iconic video ‘Another Brick In The Wall’, to a post themed accents? Listen to this brilliant song and in particular to the chorus rendition sung by (and starring) a London children’s choir, and those attuned to British accents will recognise their North London pronunciation…….…. though lol I fear those ‘across the pond’ won’t think it particually noteworthy.
(As an aside I was their exact age back in 1979!)
Band Engineer Nick Griffin recorded the children singing the verse at Islington Green School, close to Pink Floyd’s studio. Alun Renshaw, head of music at the school, said later: “I wanted to make music relevant to the kids – not just sitting around listening to Tchaikovsky. I thought the lyrics were great – ‘We don’t need no education, we don’t need no thought control’ … I just thought it would be a wonderful experience for the kids.”
Renshaw apparently hid the lyrics from the headmistress Margaret Maden, fearing she might stop the recording. Maden said: “I was only told about it after the event, which didn’t please me. But on balance it was part of a very rich musical education.” Renshaw and the children spent a week practicing before he took them to a recording studio near the school. According to Ezrin, when he played the children’s vocals to Waters, “there was a total softening of his face, and you just knew that he knew it was going to be an important record”.
In exchange for performing vocals, the children of Islington Green School received tickets to a Pink Floyd concert, an album, and a single. The footnote to this tale is following a change to UK copyright law in 1996, the children’s choir members became eligible for royalties from broadcasts, and after royalties agent Peter Rowan traced the choir members through ‘Friends Reunited’, they successfully lodged a claim for royalties with the Performing Artists’ Media Rights Association in 2004.
So if there’s any conclusion to be made from this afternoon’s post, we all have our favourite spoken accents, we shouldn’t (but do) judge a person’s worth and intellect by the way they speak and yes Islington’s North London children’s choir is awesomely fabulous…………………. I do hope you listened!
I know I haven’t been around for a while, long story but not to worry.
Oh yes! A woman flashed her cotton panties at me today, so I’m wondering was lifting her dress accidental as I walked toward her, little more than her preoccupied wistful mind elsewhere, or lol was I the victim of a sexual assault? BECAUSE being serious for a second if I was to pull my trousers down in public, in full view of a pretty young woman walking toward me then I’d have some serious explaining to a Court Judge!
Nah of course not, pretty women can flash me their underwear to their young heart’s content.
I had intended to write a Post featuring the work of 1950s artist ‘Art Frahm’, why an earth would he wish to paint young women in distress at the point of her panties having slipped down shapely legs? What’s more at the most inopportune moment and in full gaze of bemused ‘lucky’ guys, talk about women in distress! Without Googling the reasons why? (I never do) I’m lost for words apart from a woman’s letter posted to a magazine’s editor, apparently this scenario was prone to happen in 50’s America simply because knicker elastic wasn’t as strong as it should have been!
Hmm, I’m NOT convinced.
Where was I? Oh yes I’ll never forget today’s young lady DELIBERATELY showing me her panties, a photographic image now hardwired into my memory for as long as I live……… hence the reason I had to write a blog along with all my other sexy stories.
Cutting a short story even shorter (busy lives and all), today has been Britain’s hottest day this year, hence lunchtime break I just had to wander into Oxford City centre and women watch (judge me 😀 ) well I’d gotten but 50 metres from my workplace and what did I see on this gloriously humid sunny day? A young woman suddenly stopped 20 paces in front of me, there’s more! In one near choreographed movement, she lifted a hand toward her head removing a pair of spectacles, the finger’s of her other hand clasping the hem of a girly pastel dress, and wonderful for Andrew she lifted said dress in full view and proceeded to clean her obviously dirty glasses with the soft cotton fabric, and above her frigging WAIST I might add!
And yes TOTALLY unaware (?) this middle aged guy was but paces away gazing incredulously at her light blue pair of panties and long slender legs!
Life is a game of luck and chance and today was my lucky day.
I know I could hardly believe my eyes, still can’t, how I didn’t pass out there and then God only knows. Now with spectacle’s freshly cleaned, dress hem released and allowed to fall, the glasses were reposition affront a pretty face and she continued to wander past me as if the incident had never happened, there was no hint of a sweet smile, nope she didn’t even make eye contact, her unfazed expression betraying wistful thoughts and a mind elsewhere?
I must admit I’m at a loss as to why any woman would lift her dress in public, reveal her underwear with mobile phones camera’s poised to send an image viral. Who knows why, perhaps there are people in this world who LUCKILY don’t care what other’s think? Anyways when I retold this tale back at work to basically anyone who’d listen, their mournful envious expressions betrayed the fact they’d missed a highlight of 2019.
Seriously though, days such as these are a sobering reminder, a reality check that at age 50 young women wandering past me in the street wearing buttock flashing hot-pants, micro skirts and tight fitting crop-tops revealing shapely wobbly boobage, ‘tees’ with plunging cleavage are ALL fabulous to behold, lovely and brilliant except young lady’s such as these will be thinking to themselves,
‘Sad old man looking at my tits, you’re (nearly) old enough to be my Grandfather Mr!’
Hmm a sobering thought indeed.
(Reading this post days later I’ll admit to over excited story telling, but in my defence I’d suggest voyeuristic moments such as these are an amusing big deal in any guy’s day and make for entertaining writing. Ok?)
Laura, because we are lovers of the Apollo Moon landings I’d like to recommend a favourite book of mine titled: ‘HOW APOLLO FLEW TO THE MOON’, you may have already read it but if you haven’t I’d recommend buying the paperback version which will end up bearing the ‘wear and tear’ scars lol of my well-thumbed through edition.
(Rather than writing a synopsis I’ll include my Amazon review (below) 😮 written 2011!)
Because these `independent’ reviews are so useful I thought I’d write my own.
‘How Apollo Flew to the Moon’ is given instant credibility because Apollo astronaut David Scott wrote the Forward and for space fans do you need to know anything else? It follows a complete Apollo mission and is written like a text book in that the Chapters contain lots and lots of `sub’ Chapters which enables you to read a bit, put it down for a while and then easily pick up the story up again. I can get lost and bored with some books but this is immensely readable.
It is an excellent book if you like all the Technical and Engineering information about all the hardware and has lots of sketches photographs and photos astronauts took on the moon. But don’t be put off by that because there are loads and loads of the conversations between the astronauts as well!
Something I’ve always wondered about is how from blasting off the moon the Lander was able to find the Service Module? Well all the information about navigation trajectory and burns is here. There are even two pages of definitions for all the LM computer programs.
Most importantly there are loads of new facts, like I never knew they carried a radioactive cylinder which was taken off the outside of the LM on the moon and then placed in the ALSEP so providing its electricity.
Finally and most importantly if you ever have those tiny (2.am sleepless in bed) nagging doubts like “did we really go to the moon?” then this emphatically answers the questions. America DID put a man on the moon, who walked about its surface and then came home safely…….. not a book for the idiots who think it was all a hoax!’
(Independent eBook review, in fact the authoress isn’t aware I’ve written this 😀 )
Attempting to write my very first kindle book review after having been absent from writing on WordPress since early June, is more than a little daunting.
Novelette synopsis (age18),
‘Ebby Scott has supressed her adventurous side far too long. An almost-thirty year old almost-virgin, she is given the chance to live out a life that has hitherto existed in her vivid fantasies and in the books she keenly devours. And Ebby has stumbled across the perfect place to help her unleash her erotic appetites.
Across each of three nights, Ebby faces her past decisions, her present choices, and gains a glimpse of her possible future as her sexual adventures become ever more steamy, satisfying, and liberating.
Meanwhile, her hopeful and adoring suitor Nick waits for her back at home.By the end of her three-night escapade, will Ebby return to Nick’s loving arms, or will she be unwilling to give up her new-found freedom just yet?’
I should begin by saying I’ve followed Ms. Libre Pavey’s blog for many months now, a gentle and eloquent writer she herself describes ‘Laying the Ghosts of Christmas’ steamy romantic fiction, all I can add is she’s not wrong! I’ll go further and admit to ‘hardening’ (come on work it out!) whilst reading in my garden, several arousals if truth be told my imagination drawn into Ebby Scott’s ghostly romantic encounters. Btw I’m reliably informed the difference between erotica and steamy romance, is the latter must have a story and this novelette is most certainly steamy romance with plenty of descriptive scene setting to hold my attention. Thoughtfully constructed around an original cute idea, enough atmosphere to engage my imagination with memorable lines such as:
‘………geometric squares of leggy jasmine and delicate wands of Japanese quince creating stark silhouettes.’
And plenty of beautiful naked breasts (for as you know I am a lover of ladies squidgy pink fun bundles, a breast man through and through), with pulse quickening lines such as:
‘….…..breasts tipped with jaunty cinnamon nipples, skin turned warm caramel in the low-lit glow.’
I should say at this point, Charles Dickens ‘A Christmas Carol’ is my very favourite work of fiction, in fact without fail I revisit this ghostly little tale every Christmas Eve for the past twenty-five years, and I did enjoy spotting the author’s clever parallels. Similarly written in descriptive staves with ghosts of past and present visiting Ebby’s bedroom, parallels not dissimilar to Dickens tale absent the steamy romantic sex goes without saying! As the authoress reminds us loosely based on ‘A Christmas Carol’ with even a little ‘Cinderella dancing at the ball’ thrown in, and here’s a thing being my first review I’m very conscious of not wishing to give tooo much away!
As an aside, Libre paley intrigues me because she’s one of the few ladies to dare comment my err sexually explicit posts, not only a beautifully skilled writer but I’d guess possessing a ‘naughty’ confidence, I guess I’ll never know! Hmm? Was my excited anticipation and eagerness to read because I avidly follow blogger Libre Paley, the lady being one of my favourite writers on WordPress probably heightened my reading enjoyment.
Thoughts aside, our heroine Ebby (the authoress) narrates the tale.
Ringing in my ears has been a little voice whispering “write a review but jeeze don’t give away the plot period”, and now I’m feeling perhaps I’ve sold you a little short? Not to worry, well paced sexually explicit and highly readable ‘Laying the Ghosts of Christmas’ was a most enjoyable read and £0.99 Amazon Kindle purchase well spent. 🙂
A. Shepherdson 2019 (My musings are a little ‘writing rusty’ tonight.)
I must admit I’ve been in two minds whether to publish yet another boob tale (said that before!) Blogger Lesley kluchin won’t be impressed and I don’t blame her, of all the lovely readers to reply Lesley isn’t adverse to giving Andrew’s virtual ass a written spanking, several occasions tooo, I love them!! I fear my sexist tales understandably challenge the lady’s mommy sensibilities also school teaching values and quite right tooo……… Still, Lesley’s a good looking woman for her age, just shows a woman can still be sexually appealing at age70😘 . (Btw she wasn’t offended when I wrote that because I’m a nice guy.)
Ok I’ve a breast obsession! I adore sucking caressing licking and gazing in wonderment, what more can I say? 😀
Seems an age since I’ve affectionately ‘objectified’ a woman’s body on this WordPress.
Omg summer’s finally arrived with a vengeance and Oxford city is crowded with (age appropriate) young ladies wearing fewer than usual, there’ll be micro cotton dresses revealing milk white thighs, hem lines sooo short that on a guy’s lucky day he’ll glimpse ‘cushions’ of knicker gusset captured in the breeze, and just imagine but for this soft delicate fabric I might see kitty lips moistened and glistening against the sunlight! The problem is I have to keep in mind I’m old enough to be their father if not older!!
Btw this has happened, I’m not complaining ladies but watch the skirt length for heavens sake my heart isn’t as young as it used to be! Or with the advent of #METOO am I deemed sexist for looking and enjoying?
Do you wish to know why I enjoy riding double decker commuter buses in sunny weather? (You know you want to 😀 ) I’ll sit beside a top deck window waiting for my evening’s ride to pull away from the pavement, with a forearm propped upon a window-sill I’ll gaze down at delectable University students (age18) and pretty female shoppers walking past, their animated laughter and chatter a joy to behold, better still and you just know what I’m going to share with you next, more often than not when hot summer days arrive, so do tight fitting tee shirts with plunging necklines and ample boobage jiggling their own merry dance.
And because I’m seated peering down from up on high I’ll watch out for the colour of their bras as they walk on by, and if fortunate I’ll see pastel blouses with their collars open and top buttons undone, omg it’s fabulous to be alive when gazing at milk white boobs nestling comfortably within cups of various sizes, and working down the alphabet from an A cup to a DD, on a REALLY lucky day and this only happens once in a while mind, when the angle of eyeline is correctly aligned and her cups are larger in size, then I have been known to coup d’œil a small brown nipple or two.
Now that we’re on the subject of ladies’ nipples and keeping in mind their SOLE function in life is so that a baby can latch on and drink mums’ creamy goodness so they’ll grow up healthy a strong, yum yum big deal………………..
(Ahh I’ve just had an idea! I’ve some ‘breastfeeding in public’ opinions that I’ll leave for another day 🙂 )
ERR where was I? Oh yes tales of peering down ladies’ blouses! Yikes could I get into trouble doing this?
However this sexy street theatre doesn’t last forever as our gruff diesel engine rumbles into life, alas my down blouse performance is over for another day 😦 that’s until I descend the upper deck stairs and I share this thought with you quite truthfully, again when luck is on my side (lotta luck required in my life, keep up!) A BIG breasted young lady has been seen standing waiting ready to get off, I’m hovering above looking directly down, and no word of a lie, a balconette bra separating two perfectly shaped breasts with her belly button clearly in view.
🙂 Btw she appeared like a vision one hot summer’s day last year, 😀 so ladies be aware!
Incidentally this saucy nonsense flows easily when I’m sexually aroused, why not try it yourselves dear readers? I should add the knicker gusset aided by the lifting skirt breeze scenario happened last August! Happy days 🙂 .
(Two ‘borrowed’ stock images which are NOT my own!)
‘Now before you get all hot under the collar branding my post ‘icky’ and distasteful, just keep in mind EACH AND EVERYONE OF US was born of our father’s semen!………… Oh and I’ll be away for the foreseeable 🙂 ‘
(Talking of good taste, here are two cute puppies before I begin.)
No NO don’t leave me yet!! This post isn’t as dull as you’re possibly thinking 🙂 .
A recent blog Titled ‘English language rules and why they can/should/must be broken (sometimes)‘ captured my imagination.
The correct use of English language, where and when to apply correct grammar rules, increasingly fascinates because I’ve been ‘writing’ on WordPress for over a year now and who wouldn’t be! Though I’ll add one important caveat, the question ‘do I consider myself to be a ‘writer?’ Definitely sharpens the mind, hmm jury’s still out on that one, however Holly once described me a ‘conversational writer’ which I quite like 🙂 .
Now putting to one side a fun pet tale, she elaborates on her current choice of reading Titled Dryer’s English ‘An utterly correct guide to clarity and styleby Benjamin Dreyer.’ which is quite possibly my next Amazon.co.uk purchase, and quoting from her own words,
‘This man is my new-found hero. Basically he suggests we can, and should, break all the English grammar rules we have learned in school. Unless we can’t or shouldn’t.
His writing style is so conversational, you’ll absolutely forget immediately that technically you’re reading a guide to English grammar, and he’s so funny. I was instantly captivated.’
NOW for me this is where our tale gets really interesting, apparently Benjamin Dreyertalks briefly about a challenge he recommends all writers take part in. For one whole week he suggests readers eliminate the following words from everything they write, omg talk about laying down a gauntlet!
(Queue an accompanying drum roll)
Pretty (not to describe something or someone, but to say ‘pretty tedious’)
On the last one he recommends, “feel free to go the rest of your life without another actually”.
And you’ll guess exactly what I’m going to say next!
Well I read that list and thought to myself ‘Holy crap I’m a Serial offender, I regularly and repeatedly use every single word from that list and quite possibly almost certainly within all 195 posts on this my WordPress!’
I’m not joking for effect either and whilst I’m here I’ll add ‘Anyways’ to Benjie’s list, ‘anyways’ is my goto word for realigning returning a meandering train of thoughts ‘back on track’, without fail if my thread of consciousness has veered off topic the following paragraph will always begin with Anyways, perhaps you’ve noticed?
Anyways where was I? Oh yes my fascination with grammar rules, now I’ll share with you my one and only self editing rules, that before publishing this post I’ll check (then double check) I haven’t used the words ‘it’ and ‘it’s’ though I will use ‘its’. “Why so Andrew?” Well in my humble opinion the word ‘it’ is an irritatingly non descript meaningless word, not tooo dissimilar to teenage girls and their addiction to the word ‘like’. Incidentally I have this theory that because girls converse far quicker than their brain’s are processing, the word ‘like’ is ‘scatteredhere there and everywhere’ so allowing thought processes to catch up!……………. 🙂 In my opinion ‘like’ is a meaningless conversational fill-in word however absolutely adorable ❤ to listen to when you overhear teenage girls chatting.
Here’s a ‘fabulous’ anecdote I happened across recently and apparently a TRUE story, anyways it (lol) made me laugh 😀 revealing how intelligent thinking stops an ignorant stupid person in his/her tracks.
Picture this. The phrase ‘NIGGER’S OUT’ is written in spray paint across a large expanse of virgin wall.
Only later a sharp thinking passer-by adds their own brilliant observation: ‘NIGGER’S OUT (but he’ll return after his dinner)’.
Don’t you think that’s priceless insightful and an awesome reply?
(My apologies to Victoria for ‘woosing out’ on Chapter 14, and I know I owe Darnell a post sharing the reasons I don’t use writing Apps such as Grammarly………….. lol no one can say I don’t try to interact here, that’s half the fun don’t you think?)
My apologies to Holly and Laura, I should have known better 😦 .
I’d like to say my Donald love-in post written a week or so ago was 100% tongue in cheek, I made a grave mistake when I should have known better. Several weeks ago I wrote a light hearted jokey political ‘essay’ suggesting the reasons I would vote for Donald Trump as British Prime Minister, big BIG MISTAKE!!! My argument was wholly based around a robust immigration policy, I’d omitted to remind myself he is an untrustworthy fucking liar.
Out there in the real world Political decisions affect people’s lives and quoting Neil Kinnock’s iconic speech once again, “you cannot play politics with people’s jobs and people’s services!” Trump’s future political meddling will hurt the British public’s NHS. Well this evening possibly, for the very first time since our disastrous Brexit vote, the ramifications of a US Trade Deal have hit home to the British public, I’ve read the small print it’s an awful Deal!
I switched on the TV news after getting in from work this evening, you know catch up on Trump’s ‘State Visit’ and just in time to hear President Trump say these words, and I quote:
“The British National Health Service is on the table in any future Trade Deal.”
OMFG what an earth does this short sound-bite mean for our beloved NHS? Privatisation for profit? US health insurance firms and multinational companies hiving off money making areas and leaving the poor without healthcare? Charging those that can pay a fortune for their future health care?……………… In complete and honest truth I am still in deep shock, and I’d guess millions of citizens across this once great nation are this evening filled with dread sorrow and foreboding 😦 ……….. perhaps many will be upset in tears.
If there’s any consolation, I didn’t believe a word of the Trump bs I was writing, but there you are today Brexit just got serious for us Brits 😦 , I guess the sayin “you better be careful for what you wish for” applies, yep I’d suggest today’s ICONIC speech will be replayed over and over again for years to come!
Finally Neil Kinnock’s famous 1985 Labour Party speech, I’ve shared it before and will do again now widely regarded as one of the great British oration of the 20th Century. (I’ll not bore readers with context full text and detail.