The Women Of Instagram


And welcome to 2018.

This post is going to just be me writing down some thoughts based on observation.

I’ve been noticing a lot lately that either I am doing really well in weeding out people that are unsavory from social media OR the unsavory and the perverted have all gone over to Instagram.

Over the past several months, almost the last year, I found myself jumping into the muck and the mire of “following” people that I really had no business following.

I did it though. Sad but true.

Now in my case, my profile/account/whatever is somewhat restricted. I am unable to post any photos. But I am capable of clicking that little heart icon and I can leave a comment to someone else’s photo that has been posted.

Lately though, I’ve been wanting to toss my cookies at the amount of comments that are being posted to women’s photos on Instagram.

Personally I found myself following international women. Women who do not speak English as their first language. Plenty of them have modeling as either their career or serious hobby.

Russia, Eastern Europe, Brazil, and every place in between.

Over and over and over again, its the same old bullshit in the comment section. And these comments are in English. Some of them broken English.

If I had $100 for every comment that I have read along the lines of “marry me!”, I would be absolutely rich!! And I have no choice but to laugh at the broken English proposals of “merry me.”

I may find a photo here and there appealing or attractive. But as I have been saying for years now, that by the time I can come up with a suitable compliment for the photo, the comment section is full of trashy remarks that are repeated up to 20 times PER PHOTO!!

I feel that these are the ones that make MY social/dating life difficult. These women hear/read these trashy comments so many freaking times that by the time I say something NICE, it gets lost.

Being that at the time I am writing this blog post and it being New Years Day 2018, plenty of these women over the past couple of weeks have been posting photos that have been holiday themed. And over the past 2-3 days, more photos have been more personal to everyone because the women have posted photos of themselves with their families.

And by “families,” I mean their husbands/boyfriends/significant others AND/OR their children.

And these perverts who have been following these women for who knows how long, either don’t know how to use the Internet to get a loose translation of the photo caption or are just not paying a lot of attention.

I had stopped counting after finding sixteen different comments to five different women’s photos who had posted an image of them with their other half and finding the comments to be people who were in shock, asking if they were married, or if that was their husband/boyfriend/whatever.

I’ve come up with a theory.

The signs were there all along. I think.

These perverts are just there to look at “hot women” and then vomit their sexual arousal all over the place.

In particular, those who are models are constantly posting new content several times a day. Anything from a photo session or a mirror selfie.

My theory is that if someone has posted photos and it does not appear to be a selfie, then obviously someone else is behind the camera. If the person is not really close up in the photo then someone else is helping out with the photography.

If its not a professional photographer… who else could it be???

It would make sense to deduce that there’s a possibility of a significant other involved.

Therefore there should be absolutely NO SHOCK involved when women post photos of family, particularly during the holiday season.


Rock and Roll Tramp: Game Over

A little more than a year ago, I wrote about a girl that I called “Rock and Roll Tramp” for non-specific purposes. Needless to say that in those long, long months I’ve had the opportunity to know her a little better.

Sad to say that as far as seeing her in person, it is a very safe bet that I have not seen her sober at all. Not once. Every time I have been near or around her, two things are constant: We are at a venue watching live music. And she’s drunk as hell.

After a few times seeing her out in about, I was noticing patterns. She was only there when certain bands or certain people were on stage. Then the truth came full circle in the most ugly of ways.

“Tramp” was always seen with a bass guitar player. Showed up with him, left with him. The very telling moment was when I saw the bass player shove her into the men’s room at a bar once and neither of them emerged for at least a good fifteen to twenty minutes later.

It was at that point I felt that it was over. At least for me.

The odd part of the transition was the next time that I saw her after she had been fucked in the men’s room, I referred to the guy as her “boyfriend” and she flipped her lid. In the most defiant of manner she vehemently denied that’s who he was.

I was not convinced of it.

Over the next year I grew to accept the defeat. I grew to realize that I had in fact asked her out and she accepted the offer but I never followed through on that. And I also grew to accept that even if I had followed through (at that time) she was still with him and therefore I would have considered the event one thing, and she would have considered it something else which is a recipe for disaster. Nothing would ever become of it.

And then a month ago, the incredibly impossible happened. The bass player boyfriend reached out to me one-to-one to discuss his feelings and situations with “Tramp” and I was (but not really) shocked to learn that they were having problems in the relationship. It was four consecutive late night talks about the relationship, including intimate details that I never knew, nor would I have guessed.

She had decided to take a break from their relationship, and he was missing her. I think that they spend nearly 24 hours around each other. And if that is close to being correct, then I’d agree…. it is a messy situation because that is way too much.

Four days later, they were back together at another show. And apparently happily ever after according to the bass player. I’ve never approached her side of things as he probably would be embarrassed to admit that he talked about such things that were private to me.

So a year has gone by, and all hopes of wrestling down the “Tramp” are dead and gone. Nothing will ever come from the two of us. And after all this time I realize…. that’s a good thing!! It is amazing what a person can learn if they just take some time to evaluate.

I am still amicable with both of them. But with her- the way that I relate with her as changed drastically and more safely.

But for the Rock and Roll Tramp? Game over.

Brace Face


It has been quite some time. I have been totally away from the blogsphere.

Lately though, I had been so sick that I was in the hospital and away from home for nearly a couple of weeks.

I’m feeling better. SOOOOOOOO much better. That this tale must be told for the sake of the purpose to this particular corner of the world wide web.

Even being ill, I was able to pull enough strength last night to go out and enjoy some live music with a band that I follow closely nowadays.

The band was fine. Getting better in my opinion. But the highlight of the night was to find a gorgeous young woman with a LBD. So hot!!

She kept her mouth closed most of the time. Like she was feeling insecure about something.

I went on a mission to get this woman to smile. It didn’t take much. I’m pretty good at least getting a woman to smile at least, even if I cannot seal the deal.

She grinned. Then I kept going. Then she smiled brightly. She opened her mouth. And what did I behold but her teeth with braces on them. It had seemed that she was insecure about her looks with the braces on her teeth.

Trust me, there was nothing wrong with the looks of this woman. And the braces didn’t take anything away from her. In fact it ADDED to the sex appeal and attraction that I zeroed in on.

I told her several times in her ear that I thought she was gorgeous. I told her that she had nothing to fear with her appearance. And even if someone did not like it- they could go to Hell.

I could feel the confidence within her grow as she relaxed. I put my arm around her and she quickly snuggled in. With my arm around her waist, I gently placed my hand upon her ass… expecting her to move from it and keep out of my arm’s reach. But she never budged.

I sat there with my arm around this beautiful woman and acted as if her ass belonged solely to me.

There was not a lot of talk from that point on from her or I.

At the very end of the night, just prior to being kicked out of the venue… I asked if I could follow her to her car, to make sure she was safe. She agreed but I could sense some uncertainty.

We walked underneath the interstate and into the parking lot where her vehicle was.

Then she offered to give me a ride home… no matter the distance. I accepted.

But she stored the wheelchair in the front passenger’s seat and opened the door to the back seat just behind the driver.

I was confused but I climbed into the car. Then she followed right behind me.

After some cuddling and some light conversation which was heavy with flirtation, her hand traveled quickly along the inside of my left thigh and into my crotch.

I swiftly leaned into her and started kissing wherever I could land my mouth before it reached her own. Her hand squeezing so hard to my junk.

Several minutes passed by and she whimpered that “she wanted it.” Then her hand really put a death grip on my dick. And I leaned back and she made her way to her desired destination with her mouth all over me… her body leaning into my lap.


All I could think of was the scene from The Sopranos when the dancer/stripper/hooker had gotten braces on her teeth and she was wanting in on a sex party and the guy that was about to get a blowjob said “Easy with those braces.”

But I never said a word. This girl knew what she was doing. It didn’t take long before she climbed on to my lap and slid my throbbing shaft up inside of her and she began to ride me like no tomorrow.

In all my life, believing that getting to this point would take weeks, months… took under an hour in HER own vehicle.

My mind was gone. The only real thing that I could think of was all the traffic up above that was passing by while I was getting laid.

After it was all over, she suggested that I slide into the passenger seat as she went to put the wheelchair in her trunk.

Then she kept her word and gave me a ride home. But I kept a finger up inside of her slit the entire time. If we had to stop at a red light.. I would vigorously shake my finger and make her quiver until the light turned green. I felt it was my duty to keep her hot and turned on and wanting more as we drove the miles to my place.

It worked. Sitting there in the parking lot, she threw back her seat belt and leaned into my lap, going down on me some more.

All in all, everything went as men would dream. And yes, I wished it would happen again. but I have no idea how to find her. I have no name, no address, nothing. I’m going to have to hope and cross my fingers that she attends another show soon.

There was nothing wrong with “Brace Face”… I’d search for her again if I could.

Daily Dose Of Filth #01


It is nice to be back here. Kind of. I’ve decided to include in this blog your “daily dose of filth” in a sense. It will not be EVERY day, rather whenever I hear of something that would be interested to readers here, I will make sure to give you what you are looking for.

I have a feeling that the majority of these entries will fall under the category of “I couldn’t make this up, even if I wanted to.”

So in Japan is a very scarce television program on an adult cable channel. It is not readily available in ALL of Japan. The show is loosely translated into English called “Sing What Happens.” The premise is simple, and yet ohhhh so complex!

MALE contestants enter a singing contestants come on the show to sing, but they have to fight off a certain distraction. A woman jerking them off as they sing.

Stiff competition, indeed!

The Hunt Of Latin Cougar

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Someone please call the police! I’ve been a victim of a cougar attack!!

But in all honesty, I shouldn’t complain about it. In fact, I shouldn’t even be analyzing it. Still though, it happened and I don’t know why. I think that the not knowing is the worst thing and so my mind has been spinning it around and around and around to see what it spits out as either reason or excuse.

A very common and frequent guest of one of my neighbors has been spotted more and more as of lately to the point that the person in which she is visiting, is under back talk and scrutiny as to whether or not this guest and the residential neighbor is actually living together. Not like it is anyone’s business though!

Nonetheless, she’s there in the mornings. She sits at the table, drinks coffee, and often times bringing along some sort of breakfast snack or pastry to go along with it. And she’s willing to share with those around her at the table, and if I am there she will share or at least offer to me to share.

The communication however is quite difficult as she does not speak English. Only Spanish.

And as this is intended to be a sex and relationships blog, I won’t get into the politics about languages being spoken and what should and should not be.

I had found myself involved in a very similar situation with a woman from El Salvador for about six months. She did not speak English either. But the motion of the ocean cares not which tongue you use.

Trying to figure out the current day cougar has been tricky. I don’t want to come across as if I am on the hunt. That’s the last thing I would need around here is to have people assuming that I’m trying to get into this woman’s business, even though its none of theirs.

Hell, even attempting to figure out this cougar’s first name is a freaking challenge. A challenge that still goes on. And what is the connection or relationship behind coming here to visit?

The cougar has however adopted a rather friendly approach to greetings and salutations. It is a physical approach but still friendly. As of recently, she has been hugging or side arm hugging people as she enters the room, all depending on whether or not the person she is greeting is capable of giving a full embrace.

At first, it had been a matter of the cougar’s comfort. But after a few days and weeks of seeing me every morning for coffee and just being there at the same table has allowed her to relax a bit and be a little more open.

Hell just last week she got up from the other side of the table to sit right next to me as I was looking through a cookbook full of weird recipes. With her inability to understand English (or so I suspect) she instead just was looking at the photographs of food that were in the book. A few times, she asked what it was and I did my best to translate.

I can speak Spanish. But if you dropped me off to be all by myself in the middle of Mexico, I would be so rightfully screwed.

But the cougar warms up day by day by day. Side arm hugs turn into full embrace. It also turns into her talking with me on a one-to-one level more often. Even though I am only understanding about 20-30% of what she is saying at that exact moment. Usually I’ll leave and think about what was said and piece it together later to understand more of what was said, however any opportunity to retort is long gone.

And then it all changed this morning. There’s no going back because of the change either.

Oh sure, I could call it quits but honestly who would want that??? Not anyone that I would know. Certainly not me!!

Upon waiting for the coffee to be brewed, I moved over towards the coffee pot and the cougar also was standing by and waiting patiently. Clearly the both of us having a need for caffeine.

Then suddenly she spoke up and I probably understood about 75% of what she asked me, which was whether or not I wanted coffee. I said that I did, and she grabbed a second coffee mug. Then she asked if I wanted to add sugar or whatever and I told her what I normally put into my coffee and she put it all at the bottom of the cup. Not something that I would do personally but hey, its all going into the same place. Then she poured coffee into MY cup before pouring coffee into her cup!!!

And to be brutally honest, I could have developed a swollen ego about it, but as I am understanding it – that’s just part of the Latin culture for her to do so.

The thing that I am unclear about is whether or not it is still part of that Latin culture for her to serve it to me by handing me the cup that was filled to the top carefully so that nobody got burned and wouldn’t let go until she knew that I firmly had a handle on the cup. And as I grabbed the cup, she darted her head straight forward and kissed and pecked at my fingers. It was the first of signals that went flying that I didn’t pick up on.

Yay me!!!!

Time passed. Everyone was enjoying their coffee… attempting to wake up. Then there was some kind of bread with cream cheese inside and the cougar served that to me too. Well, she asked first and I said yes, THEN she served it to me. She could have just passed it along but she got up and handed it to me. She was only two chairs away sitting at a circular shaped table. Second signal failed to detect!

The conversation at the table had reached a point where it was 100% Spanish and zero English and so I kind of got left out for a bit and so I finished my snack and my coffee and moved on but stayed inside of the room.

As the morning progressed, people started to leave. Including the cougar. So I moved forward to at least be inside the nucleus.

The cougar was saying at the very least “Bye!” to people. So she came up to me and fully embraced me and did not let go.

She began to caress my back, shoulders, and the back of my neck before embracing me stronger and whispering words that took me a while to translate in my head. And then she kissed me lightly upon the lips.

Rosa at the ruinsWhoa… what was that?!?

She whispered something along the lines of “I’m missing you.” or “I’m going to miss you.” or something very similar. And it didn’t make sense until I had spoke to another neighbor and to find out that the cougar was going to Las Vegas for a short trip.

Okay now that “missing you” part made sense.

The fact that the cougar is visiting one of the neighbors was still a mystery to what the connection was between them.

The neighbor and the cougar are SISTERS.


Not sure if I’ll be seeing the cougar soon, the neighbor that I spoke to that thought they were going to Las Vegas believed that they were leaving today. We’ll see what happens. But the hugs and the kisses were brand new. And I didn’t even bother to pick up on these signals she was letting off.


No, Not All Men


I wanted to wait long enough for this story to calm down just long enough so that I could throw in my own two cents on the situation.

We all know who this guy is. We all know what he did. And we all know what kind of aftermath it swept up in the process.

The thing that got to me was the #YesAllWomen campaign that was supposed to take place on Twitter. This thing spilled over into pretty much EVERYTHING and started this riot act.

Well guess what? Not ALL women. And no not ALL men either.

Let me tell you a story.

Back during the days of high school, I probably could have related to this guy very distinctively and very directly. I had no women who wanted to date me, no girlfriend, no females hanging out with me. And even though I did ask girls out, they always said no. ALWAYS, ALWAYS, ALWAYS.

Did it make me feel good? No, of course not. Did it frustrate me? Most definitely!

Did I kill these women because they rejected me? NOT AT ALL.

By the time I was 17 or 18, I was sick of hearing “No” from girls in high school. It got to the point where it happened so much that even TODAY in the 21st Century, I anticipate the answer to be “No” even when I’ve not given the woman a fair chance to speak her mind.

And of course when she says “Yes” I immediately wonder whether or not she’s sick or if she is just teasing or whatever.

This guy in California basically had things fucked up in his head. He thought that having a BMW, designer clothes and accessories, and being a part of a wealthy family should have gotten him laid so much that he couldn’t keep up with all of the girls. But instead, the exact opposite happened for him. He got NOTHING.

At age 22, he was still a virgin. And he was definitely whining and bitching about it. Instead of going and doing something about it, he blamed WOMEN for the fact that he still had his virginity.

I guess that we all can be grateful that he didn’t go out and rape and assault women, but at the same time he deliberately blamed OTHERS for his problems and misfortunes and failed to see the problem within himself.

When I kept seeing that woman after woman kept rejecting me, I eventually got to the point of asking “Is it me??” and then attempted to do something about it to correct the situation. But the damage in high school for me was already done. There wasn’t going to be anyone that would say “Yes” in high school. And that was just the cold, harsh reality of it.

This guy however, gets through high school somehow, goes to a local community college and then lusts after everything he sees and then blames others for his misery when the rest of the world is having fun.

Yes, I think the guy was nuts. I think the guy did have a “holier than thou” attitude when it came to women and most other men. And I think that he had some major issues that never got addressed that would have helped him.

But you know what? This guy blaming “blonde sluts” for the fact that he was still a virgin was beyond ridiculous. If you have seen any of his YouTube videos, he explains that he feels its everyone else’s problem but not his own. And he just cannot see why people do not like him in general. Then he shows his own ass.

If this guy was so “well off” then why didn’t he just go nail a hooker or better yet, grab the nearest bottle of lotion or vaseline?? No… he wanted sex with a woman and he wasn’t getting what he wanted- so he acted like a spoiled child and blamed THEM for it. But then his lowered mental state kicked in and HE was the one that decided that these people were going to be “punished” for it and that these people (particularly the women and most definitely the women that rejected him) actually DESERVED what he was going to do to them, which was end their lives.


My point is that I was generally in the same situation as he was in when I was in high school. And I had the same anger and frustration with girls. BUT I NEVER LAID A FINGER ON THEM IN ANY ACT OF VIOLENCE OR REVENGE!!!! So don’t tell me “all men” and “all women” … don’t even start. The fact that I never harmed any of the women that rejected me, is what disconnects me from this whacko.

Whether it was misogyny or mental illness or whatever the case, he made his choices. And clearly he chose a destructive and violent path which led to his own death. I’m still waiting to get confirmation that he ventilated his own skull or not. There are reports of him shooting it out with police.

Again, I want to point out that I chose something else. I chose another way to deal with everything. I didn’t just go balls out and decided to kill anyone and everyone just because I was rejected by them.

I would in fact eventually get over the pain of rejection. And now… many years later, come to find out that I am actually living BETTER on my own, as a single man than these women lived their lives to be where it is today in 2014.

What a shock.

The MILF Whisperer



Depending on your point of view, I either have the worst luck or I have the best of luck and just don’t know what the heck to do with it. 

So now that the author is in, out, and gone in under 24 hours… I found myself in a situation where I was faced by two cougars. I guess I could call it “A Tale Of Two Kitties” but what porn company hasn’t done that one to death already?? The pussy reference is just so overused to begin with.

Two women purportedly in their 50’s in my face with full disclosure and feeling no shame about it. 

Contestant number one is an import from Spain. Landing in Winnipeg, Canada. A married woman of over 30 years, a mother, and seemingly a stay-at-home situation for her. Although I do not fully know her home or house situation. 

A woman of a high income household. Probably based on the fact that her husband is bringing it all home and by the fists and pockets full. It does make me wonder if she’s been a career trophy wife or not???

Being that she is originally from Spain, she speaks Spanish. Being that she does live in Canada, she speaks some French. So I have a one in three shot as far as languages go to get her attention and have her find it charming. Commonly it is Spanglish…. 

But she comes across wicked flirtatious. It is almost to the point where I begin to think that she’s looking for something or someone to fill a void in her life that her husband cannot give to her. Again, I speculate. However that sort of vibe is there. It has been the habit of her to speak in Spanish whenever she speaks in tones of the lovey-dovey. Not so much “muy romantico” but if she’s talking about forms of affection, she switches over to Spanish until she’s made her point and then comes back to English. To me, that is suspicious. 

Her family takes extended long winter vacations. They escape the cold arctic blasts of ice and snow and freezing temperatures and run to the villas of port cities of Mexico. 

I mean clearly, if they are doing that every winter and are staying for months at a time– I mean who can afford a Mexican vacation for two solid months?? SOMEONE has a bit of coin in their pocket!!! But their financial status is honestly none of my concern. 

And yet somehow I feel it still fits the stereotype of man who makes money, nabs trophy wife, has family, lives life of luxury… rinse and repeat. 

If the life of the wife is not ended by the knife, and things are hunky-dory, then why …. WHY OH WHY would there be any need for her to come on to me like that? And of course, there’s always the obligatory comment of having to leave and will talk later and what not. One could only think that its to not to be discovered. 

Now she’s contemplating to move things over to text messaging. 

And if what I think is true– wouldn’t that be something far more dangerous than communicating with someone via the Internet? Its quicker, its more personal, its faster, and a lot easier to be discovered. 

But that is assuming this woman has something to hide.

"Oh yeah. How do you want me, baby?"

“Oh yeah. How do you want me, baby?”

Contestant number two is a little bit different. I would dare to say that by comparison to the first that they are opposites in many ways. But similar in ONE way. Possibly prowling with me in their line of fire. 

From the southwest corner of the United States, making her acquaintance through one of the worst people I have ever met on Facebook. A disgusting little fuck from San Francisco. But she was from the desert southwest. 

She was smart enough to get far away from the California cockbite and away from anyone who just wished to lust after her because she had fairy tale hair at its length. Her age brought it to a snowy-white.  But you would have never had known how old she truly was unless you asked. 

When I first met her, she did proudly proclaim that she was married. Unhappily at that point, but committed to the “til death” part. And for the longest time, I respected her boundaries about that. 

Until last night when I found out that she: 

A- had been separated from her dork of a husband for almost a year and has been living alone and single for the first time in over 35 years of her life. B- She had taken her snowy-long locks and for the first time, dyed them darker and cut off about 18 inches of her total length. All in the name of trying to find a job because she was finding that age discrimination was a very real and true thing. 

At first I tried to be the shoulder for her because surely this separation has not come easy. But that role would not be fulfilled as I would be confronted with terms such as “I do things that would get me into trouble.” and “We are consenting adults.” ….. ‘we’ being her & I. 

I’m not going to lie to you, dear readers. Having that does make me feel good, it makes me feel better about myself. But how much is enough? How much is enough to where I can cover my own ass and not get hurt by either of them? 

I’ve been through the whole “married, but I’ve got you on the side” situation. And I’ve been there far too many times. And no, I didn’t like it when it was happening and after it happened came a lot of guilt and remorse.

On the other hand, you got someone with a new lease on life. Scared to death because they don’t know what to do or how to act for their age. And I probably need to handle with care so I don’t damage her to the point where the damage falls back on me. 

Pimpin’ ain’t my game. Never has been. And I don’t think that I am going to start now. But the situation that I find myself in is unique and un-experienced. 

Rocket Fueled Disaster



It was a chance meeting… her and I. Coming together by the one thing that paired us: Music. Our love and passion for it.

Our fates sealed when our opinions were the same as a mutual acquaintance had taken a stand on an issue on Facebook. And the rest would not be history as the story has not come to an end officially. But looking back would be a serious bitch.

A tale so tangled full of woes because I apparently — don’t know how to slow the hell down or let someone else take the lead. Being that strong-willed person of wanting what I want, would work in other aspects of life, but experience has taught me that it does not work in other aspects of love.

The moment I realized that I had her attention, I was careful with her as if I was handling a newborn doe. I even left her alone for a couple of weeks after talking to her over Facebook until I found her again on Facebook right when I was about to leave for a few hours. I asked for her cell phone number, so that we could continue the conversation. She gladly approved my request and gave me her number.

But I did not call her though. Because that would have been deceit in my eyes. I asked for her number to be able to send text messages. Not to be able to talk to her over the telephone.

And then that little thing called “fate” came knocking on my door. Confusing, frustrating, damning fate.

I was off to go out to eat with a few neighbors when I had for some reason brought my cell phone along with me. Later in the evening my cell phone would ring from deep inside of my front pocket, giving my genitals a nice jostling. But it wouldn’t last long as whomever had called had decided to bail on the conversation entirely and hang up.

It was her. Someone I hadn’t talked to in over a week. But someone I had been thinking of FOR a week.

I sent a preemptive text message, asking if the attempt to call me was a mistake. She wrote me back and said it was an accident. I asked if she had “butt-dialed” me, but she was defiant in saying that she did not. She was so adamant to say that she did not “butt-dial” me that she gave me this long, intrusive explanation that made no sense that just admitting that a butt-dial had happened would’ve gone over ever so much easier.

The bastard child of fate though would begin to pour the cement for the rocket launching pad that would be my brain… my thoughts… my ideas… and my desires.

We would begin our journey of communication and conversation from that point forward. No matter if it was five minutes in duration or all day long. It was going to happen faster than well… you know. And what I was finding myself in, was a sort of relationship that had the component of daily

The flurry of communication was fantastic from the beginning as it always is. I asked her though if she was involved with any one and she said no. And I was totally shocked by that. But I had painted my picture to her that I was not interested in that. How that would change and there would be no way for me to stop it or hide it. And ran and it ran freely!

My conversations with her would begin to include a romantic element. But as far as that would go, it would be me asking what it was she preferred to see happen in romance with a man. She would answer honestly and freely.

Who was this woman? And where has she been all this time? A woman who appeared to be totally honest and upfront…. where do they come from?? I’m not saying she was perfect, we all have flaws. Both men and women. But WOW!!!

And it didn’t matter if I said something that was actually inappropriate or if I pushed a boundary or even stepped over and crossed one or two… or twenty-thousand. Those rare moments when I realized I may have said something inappropriate and knowing that it was time to apologize and not say that ever again, would prompt a quick “Its okay.” response out of her.

So now it seems as if I have a woman before me who is open and honest and now: quick to forgive.

Where in the hell does she hide her wings? (But no, I didn’t ask her that. I’m not that stupid!!) Nonetheless, the rose-colors were beginning to descend, the pedestal starting to polish, and a square footage estimation for me to put all of her glorious good deed trophies.

Maybe not that last one, but the others: very much so.

Knowing she was going to quickly forgive, I kept shoving and pushing those boundaries just to see how far they would go before she would object. Blindly I would stretch them until they nearly snapped into smaller pieces.

From the moment I met her in late October of 2013 on Facebook, through the month of November, and into December I honestly decided to take a huge risk to find out if I could get her physical address. And again, there was no dispute. No debate. Nothing. Just freely given information about her personal contact.

We had one conversation which was personal to her, and probably painful for her to talk about. And when that was over, I asked her if she felt a change between us. I took that change as an excuse to move in the wrong direction though in the relationship.

Does she REALLY trust me at this point with all of this information? Or is this something that isn’t what it appears to be?

I sent her a simple greeting card for Christmas. Then I made an error by NOT checking my own mailbox to find that she had sent her own Christmas greeting card. I hadn’t known until January of 2014 that it was there. Among other Christmas greeting cards that were sent. Knowing that I missed hers, was heartbreaking to me.

Her own birthday was in early December. That very evening of her birthday I did have plans and I attempted to call her twice. Once using the house phone and the other time using the cell phone. And I had done so even though I knew that she told me that she hates talking on the phone. I thought those kinds of females were extinct in the 21st Century?

My last minute ditch effort was to send a “Happy Birthday!” text message. And ONLY then did she respond.

Hell…. the week of Christmas I was nervous because Christmas to her was her remaining family. And I was not “blood family” so I thought that I would have to sit on the back burner during the holidays. But she proved that to be wrong as she sat with her family, her cell phone in her hand, and sending messages via Facebook to me to communicate. Even while sitting in the face and presence of visiting family members inside the home in which she and her mother live.

The week of Christmas I even taught her our own code phrases and words so that certain personal and intimate phrases and words would not make her go screaming for the hills. I see now that this was only the beginning of what would be the rose-colors beginning to fall. I said the “L word” to her and taught her how she and I could say it without saying it. To this day, its stuck to both of us. Even up to last night.

After I finally found her Christmas greeting card I brought it home, took photographs of it with the webcam and sent it to her with an apology for not being more vigilant to check my mail. Just weeks away from my own birthday is when I found it. And the fact that I didn’t check it in so long probably caused her to not buy and/or send a birthday card. But that’s just in my head.

I remember early on that during that time she and I were not really talking much to each other, prior to the cell phone incident, I would go to people that were mutual on Facebook and ask them what they thought of her. I wanted to know as much as possible. But nobody could answer. Nobody did answer. The only thing that I got out of them was that she was shy.

To which she answered personally that people think she is shy when she’s really quiet and she just observes everything that she sees.

And now this past week, I found someone willing to discuss it. All I had to do was to admit that I “liked her” and so all the personal opinions and stories about this woman that I have been dreamily for over 100 days were coming out and being aired in the open.

They. Were. Not. Good.

But I was also able to find out “the other person’s side” of things that had happened a few years ago with another woman whom I had adored when I first met her. Sound familiar anyone?

And now the only thing that is the mutual item between the woman that I passed on going for a relationship with romance and the woman that I have been wanting a relationship with romance with… is a man. One woman already has been made his conquest and that was the one that I did adore but let go, the other he is currently after which is the one that I desire now.

My fairy tale story comes crashing down because I jumped into a rocket full of fuel that I honestly could not handle. And when the truth had finally come out about the one that has been the glimmering shine in my eyes and how she truly is…. shatters the universe I live in.

What the hell do I do now?!?!?





I don’t know whether to go on a rampage or cry my eyes out. Or both??

I know that most men and their behavior stinks when they are amongst their own ranks. But for them to go public on a forum is … well, I don’t know…… Crazy? Stupid? Ballsy? Rude? Typical??

I don’t know believe it.. I just know that as a person in a wheelchair AND a male…. this pissed me off twice.

I didn’t even bother going through the entire list of pages of the forum’s posts. The more that I read, the angrier I became.

There’s nothing wrong with sexual attraction. None whatsoever.And there’s a certain point of victory when someone in a wheelchair is the recipient. But the comments left behind were so damned disgusting.

Have a peek:

You Are A Severe Asshole!

allaDearest admirer and fan of all awesome things that are in the world:

Yeah, I’m talking to you, Mr. Suave Commentator……. Mr. I Am Going To Say The Shittiest Things To A Woman And Still Demand A Response.

You and I have a few things in common that we find very sexy and attractive about women. I mean after all, if we didn’t, then we wouldn’t be commenting on the same photographs and videos of our favored kinds of women who all share in that glorious physical feature.

But you sir… are a complete and total asshole about it all!!!

It is because of YOU and recent actions and behavior from YOU that have occurred that not even “I” have the strength or the courage to simply talk to these kinds of women. It is because of YOU and YOUR running mouth, that makes these women skip town when all I have done is smiled at them and said hello.

And now you want to be just like the rest of the haters, just because she who is your idol has posted a very short video on YouTube which runs less than a minute in length of her kissing her significant other through the whole video while dancing in a circle to a lone saxophone musician??

You really have some big balls, don’t you?? How much did you pay for them??

What did you expect? That she was going to remain single and chaste until you finally reached that point where you are in the same room with her and that she would instantly fall in love with you and you would be happy forever and forever and ever?

What in the fuck is wrong with you??? The girl that we have a mutually fond admiration for is from RUSSIA!! You don’t speak anything more than English which is ill-fated high school levels at best, according to all of your typos and errors throughout time. And to the best of anyone’s knowledge she doesn’t even speak English at all. How were you going to make forever and forever work with that kind of language barrier?

So yeah, I’ve seen you around you jerk. Always fighting off the people who tell her to cut off her hair and to go bald or others who say other mean things just to get attention. You find yourself at the front lines of a battle that you weren’t even asked to join the fighting. And now here you sit defeated by a simple video uploaded to YouTube. NOW she’s a cunt? A whore? And a liar? I mean, really??

Wow. Talk about your pieces of work. And still I would gamble there’s still a chance that she’s not understood a single word you have been speaking to her all this time. So calling her names after making her your #1 social priority… yeah, we need to write songs and books about your technique on how to get women from foreign lands.

You steadily complain about how these evil guys who say mean things to her are ruining your chances at love. Well guess what now? You’re one of them.