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Short and sweet, a thought I had this morning… Given my luck with women pre- and post-marriage (virtually nonexistent on both sides) it’s actually miraculous that I a) got someone to marry me and b) that someone wanted to make babies with me. I think these two wonderful souls were just meant to be!

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3 Years!

Hi folks!  So three years ago this week I kicked off this blog with …She’d Be Creative.  I know I haven’t written much of late… anyone still around?  In honor of the milestone, anything you all would like me to write about?  Topics, questions, anything?

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I just had lunch with my BFF, and I talked to her about a cool movie called About Time, which is a sweet romantic comedy with a dose of time travel.  If you haven’t seen it I highly recommend it.

about time

We when on to talk about how having children tends to erase regrets or at least cast them in a new light, which reminded me of this post I wrote a few years back. So I wanted to reblog it, especially since it’s a much more “positive” post than I’ve written of late. Enjoy 🙂

My Ideal Woman...

I’m pretty sure I’ve written here before how having children so dramatically changes your perspective, not least of which has to do with regrets you may have had in life.  The steps you took in life, even the steps you may have regretted, ultimately led you to the path that brought your children into your life… and every day I see these wonderful little souls, these amazing lives that are growing and becoming more and more independent and curious, with dreams and hopes for their futures, I realize that even a slight deviation in my path to them might have prevented them from even existing.  It takes my breath away when I think back and contemplate how easy it could have been to take a different path, and so how can I regret the things I used to think of as mistakes and lost opportunities if they ultimately led me…

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It was quiet in the boys room, the time of night when Mister Sand had brushed away the daily fear and pain of life in the orphanage and replaced it with the hopes and joy of youthful dreams.  The only sounds were the deep breaths of the slumbering, peppered with a few light snores and the nose whistle of Shep, who always seemed to be stopped up.

Unfortunately the fresh welts on Justyn’s back prevented him from joining the others in blissful sleep.  He lay on his stomach, covers down to his waist and his shirt pulled up to keep the rough cloth from inflaming the wounds further.  Even the night air couldn’t seem to cool the painful, throbbing reminders of the lash.  It had been the worst beating Justyn had ever experienced, and he had mercifully passed out before Cold Crone had finished.

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Had an idea for a short story, wanted to go ahead and capture the vibe in words on the page and loaded them onto my story-writing blog… still need to do the hard work of outlining, character bios, etc… but it’s a start. Definitely curious to hear any feedback on your initial impressions!


“You are lowborn and will never amount to anything!”

The words stung worse than the lash that sometimes crossed Justyn’s back, a demoralizing combination of truth and fear.  Truth that, yes, he was born the lowest of the low, the son of a barmaid so wedded to her cups she couldn’t keep a job for more than a few days at a time.  And the fear that, yes, his dreams of escaping this hellhole were no more real than the nightmares that plagued his sleep.

The bitch who tormented him was beautifully christened Guinevie Goode, but in the orphanage she was called Cold Crone behind her back.  Pretty is as pretty does, they say, and there was nothing pretty about Cold Crone’s visage or disposition.  While she was hard on all the children in her tender care, she always saved an extra helping of harsh for Justyn.  Likely because…

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This dream is just too funny…

I all too rarely have erotic dreams, sadly… but what’s even more sad is that when I do have one my subconscious usually finds some way to fuck it up before it can get to the good stuff.  I wake up with a hard on and irritated with myself.  Seriously, subconscious?!  As if my waking life wasn’t sad enough in the romance and sex department, I can’t even catch a break in my freaking dreams?!

Last night I had a dream that I was hanging out with a female friend I know online.  I recall thinking “wow, this is cool that we’ve gotten to meet in real life, and we’re getting along great!”  So we’re going along, enjoying each other’s company, when I get a sense that she wants me to kiss her.  Now, in the past, my usual response to this sort of thing in real life is “nah, that’s just wishful thinking on my part…”  But I’m an older man now, and heck this is a dream, so I go for it… and it turns out that she did want to kiss me!

So we start making out, and things begin to get hot and heavy, clothes are coming off… and suddenly I start feeling sad, and thinking “man, everyone else always gets the girl...” and I get up and quietly leave the room to the lovebirds…  I walk out of the cabin a large group of us are staying in, go to the fridge, get a beer and step outside into the night air.  I imagine what those two are doing in the bedroom, jealous and sad…

…And suddenly realize– wait a minute, that’s ME in there with her!  So why in the hell am I out here?  I mean, it’s bad enough that my subconscious (not to mention real life) usually finds a way for someone else to get the girl, but this time I actually GET the girl and I can’t even enjoy it first hand!  WTF?!?!

I wake up with a hard on, irritated with myself… but this time I just have to laugh out loud at how absurd my subconscious can be!

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