2 Blowjob Stories and a Dogfight

Yeah, so I just tried to italicize one friggin' word about a hundred words into my post and !bam!, I'm back at the mofo beginning. Rrrrrrrrrr.

I have tentative permission for one BJ story from Bear even though I have no idea who reads this thing. We're basically a big embarrassment to anyone who knows us, anyway. The other BJ story involves Banana, my best friend since forever, but I know she's only an occasional reader so I'm not bothering to get her permission! Consistency pays, sister.

Some 11 years ago Alex was heading to his mother's house the Tuesday after Thanksgiving for leftovers when he was involved in a silly little relatively low speed accident that ended his life. I was not okay with this for about ten years, but that is another story. I still feel his absence and think of him all the time. So.... Banana and I were laying around watching television and the subject of Alex came up. It was about 2 years after his death and his girlfriend was still having a really tough time with it, we all were. He was one of the good guys.

Banana and I got to talking about loss and love and partnerships and vulnerabilities, you know, serious heart stuff.

Banana: Neat, if I died, would you marry J? (Her husband, J, is the best guy who wouldn't marry me at gunpoint but he does find me mildly amusing which is my saving grace in his eyes because he basically thinks I'm insane and not the best influence on his wife and child....)

me: (head on hand, after deep thought) No, I wouldn't marry him but I would blow him a lot the first year to help him get over things.

She popped me in the mouth.


Blowjob story number 2 also involves Banana.

Banana: So how are you feeling, yada yada yada.

me: Ok, I've started walking 3 miles a day and I'm meeting with a trainer tomorrow so I can start getting back in shape.

Banana: How's your vagina feel?

me: The box? Ok, I actually feel pretty good. The whole 6 weeks with no sex thing seems excessive to me...

Banana: How is *Bear* doing with no sex for this long?

me: I try to blow him as often as possible.

Banana: You're a good wife.

me: Yeah, I guess I am....



And Now For The Dogfight

We live in deep suburbia. We have nicknames for all the people (who avoid us) on our street. The Motherfuckers (we were walking the dogs one night and dad was draggin his errant teenaged boy into the house screaming 'motherfucker' at him), The Creepleys (next door to us, the dog torturers, I'll see if I can find the trackback..), KOL or Killer Old Lady (according to our neighbors she has killed 3 husbands and keeps putting additions on) and The Perfects.

The Perfects have 2 scrubbed looking children, an immaculate lawn with landscaping, big and shiny SUVssss, those wooden playsets that go for about 10 large and their Christmas addition of a yellow lab who, I now know, is named "Charlie".

Charlie has an electric fence. Charlie is outside all the time by himself with nothing to do but bark and growl at passersby. A couple of weeks ago Charlie busted his fence to attack Hobbes and Bear on their early morning walk. The Perfects were chasing him down the street later that day so Bear wouldn't let me tell them about the attack. His thinking was, 'they are chasing him down the road, they must know he gets loose'. If only it were that simple...

So, this morning I load Rio into the Baby Bjorn and put Hobbes' nice bone collar on him for a walk. We barely get out of the driveway when I see Charlie stick his head around the side of the glossy-inside-and-out-garage and !whoomp! he starts running at us. I see him get a sizzle as he crossed the new line. He jumps, twists a little and keeps right on coming.

I'm a dog LOVER extraordinaire. My dogs are my kids and I love them huge. But here comes this fat fuck of a lab straight for the three of us. I start to yell "NO!" at the top of my lungs. He keeps coming. He darts in for a bite at Hobbes. I keep yelling "NO!" and kick at him. He darts in again and I boot him in the side, all the while spinning around, one hand on the Bjorn, the other holding Hobbes' leash and keeping myself between Hobbes and Charlie. I have to kick Charlie close to half a dozen times, screaming all the while. The neighbors from next door and across the street come out to help. Finally Cnarlie runs off up the street toward the busy road.

Mrs Perfect runs out and jumps in her car. Evidently Charlie prefers a car ride to attacking people so they get him in the car. She wants to apologize. I am furious and I have to put Hobbes in the house first.

Our conversation is as you'd expect but I don't call her fat ass motherfucking moron. Not even once!

mp: He's not aggressive, really.

me: Well, I'm thrilled he doesn't attack your family members but I have to disagree. This is the second time he's attacked Hobbes.

mp: Really? Well, you should have told us. We're the kind of people who would listen to that sort of thing.

me: I wanted to but my husband thought the fact that you had to chase your dog all over the neighborhood would have provided enough evidence that THE FENCE DOESN'T WORK!

mp: We've engaged a trainer and we're moving the fence and testing higher voltages.

me: Look, a decent trainer will tell you those fences suck. Especially for certain dogs and obviously for yours.

mp: Honestly, if you'd just said something.

me: I'm saying it now. I'm not going to call the police and make a vicious dog complaint. Not yet. But you need to physically restrain your dog. I will not be attacked again.

mp: I'm Mrs Perfect Fuckwad (extends her hand) and Mrs VeryImportantLocalPolitician says hello.

me: ...?

I see Mrs VeryImportantLocalPolitician with regularity. She came to my graduation party and has made the short list to come and hold Rio in her first days home. I don't need her to be named dropped in a blatant effort to avoid police involvement. I was literally speechless.

me: Uh, yeah, well, I'm going inside now. Good luck with your fence improvements. We're going to start carrying pepper spray so make friends with your vet for the after hours calls.



~Now, my dogs are a little crazy. They might bite given the chance, who knows? I don't, for certain. THATS WHY we spent a fucking fortune on a cocksucking fence. What a concept.

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