BESTIALITY OR NECROPHILIA

I had to wonder about the state of mind of a young lady who reviewed the world Twilight phenomena as a "Girls battle to chose between bestiality and necrophilia".

At first I couldn't believe what I was reading, then I laughed but then I could see what she meant.

Twilight's reoccurring story line is the battle that the leading lady has, torn between two lovers.
One lover--a Vampire---the living dead.
The other a Werewolf---the beast.

That should have been the end of the story but it's me---my mind---I couldn't help but think---why do I know the meaning of these words---and more than that---why are there names for these sort of activities.
Are they that popular that they have to get their own special name.

Having spent a lot of my recreational life at a horse property which had the diversity of a breeding stud, race training facility, riding school and rented out stables and paddocks for recreational horses, I have witnessed minor bestiality.
Minor to the extent of teenage girls taking more than a healthy interest in the genitalia of the stud stallions---more than a healthy interest---touch.

Now I'm a guy--yep, and guys will on the odd occasion take an interest in porn----ah, come on---you can't throw stones,---I know you have run into those sites by mistake when you googled toys for cats----yep, OK----but my point is, I have run into sites dedicated to activities with dogs and horses.
So, maybe not a mainstream activity for the family to get involved in on the weekend, but it has a name and it does exist----sorry, don't invite me, I'm sure I'm painting my nails that weekend.

Necrophilia---no, sorry, I know nothing and I can't see it being a popular pastime in any circles and I'm not about to canvas the local undertaker to see if the party in the cool room.
.
Well, I'm off
I've got a letter to write to a little bloke in Rome. He thinks he is in charge of the worlds most popular book and I think it needs a rewrite.---you know the bit.
"Thou shalt not covet thine neighbours wife or Labrador, or German Shepherd, or Beagle or Corgi"

GROWING FASHION

Every season, yep I mean season---so that's four times a year, there are releases of new fashions for the stylish to empty their wallets and fill their wardrobes.
It seems like a girl into fashion has to have at least one new item every season and that's not counting the shoes or the underwear.
Underwear has become a fashion of its own and even though most of it will never be displayed to anyone who will appreciate it, it just makes a girl feel good.

Of course, if you are a hoarder / collector, you will notice that fashion that is old will make a comeback and you are back in fashion again with that stuff you have stored in the spare room.

OK, I know that guys are fashion dags---we will wear everything til it wears out and even then, keep on wearing it with a rip or tear because there is some fashion to the ripped or torn.

But it is not just clothes that maketh the man or the woman.
Just have a look at your family photos----it's the hair styles or lack there of.

For years the ladies have been heading for the hair stylists and reinventing their look on a regular basis but most guys have stayed with the regular neat and trimmed hair.
But now it seems that the guys are joining in on the hair fashions---but the fashion seems to be minimal.
No longer are there the comb overs or the heads of thinning hair around town.
Now it's the shaved heads or or very close cuts taking over----and the clean shaved is giving way to the three day growth of facial hair-----all of a sudden, I am fashionable.

But now it's going all the way.
It used to be just the ladies waxing legs, armpits and any other region that may be exposed by the latest fashion in swim wear--or shaping it up as a fashion statement, or removing it all.
Now it's the guys---
I can understand that the guys who look like they're wearing a King Kong T-shirts would want to get the mower out on their back and chest hair----who wants to look like a primate---but going all the way with a back, crack and sack seems to be going overboard to the name of fashion----or is it fashion.

OK, I don't mind neat and tidy and I am not that hairy that I need the chest or back wax but I have no intention of letting someone loose with wax around my dangly bits.
And I really don't have any fixed views on how far anyone else should go in the name of fashion or comfort.
Ladies, all I know is that defoliated legs and armpits do look better---what you do with the rest is fine and fashionable with me.
Guys, well if you are closely related to king kong, I would think about either keeping your shirt on---but that foliage over the top of your collar does not look good----or maybe keep up with the latest in fashions and get the grass mowed.

Oh, head hair for the ladies----long, short, shaven, blonde, brunette or redhead, whatever is fine with me
Fashion--well, I have always measured a lady by the way she can wear a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt---simple

EPIDEMICS

There is two epidemics sweeping the world and although no one else has said so, I think that they are related.

But then again, maybe they are not sweeping the world but more so what they like the call the "western world"

Obesity seems to be taking over our communities.

On a daily basis people send me emails of "the people of Wallmart"---and every one of them has photos of these extra large economy size people who don't seem to realise that they are obese. They have bits hanging out of their clothes, front, back and side and it is not a sexy or titillating look.
There are G-strings/ thongs on both males and females, with the T-bar clearly shown and you just have to wonder, between fits of vomiting, where the hell that string is and will it hold.
You only have to walk the streets to see these people in tracksuit bottoms / sweat pants and tights / leggings, to get this view of something that looks like two rather large animals fighting in a sack----of course, the shirt has to be long enough to prevent the protrusion of excess stomach that dangles over the top of the waist band of the pants.

The saddest thing is that we see their children hiding under a pile of fries and burgers, trying to avoid the sports coaches who might press gang them into some healthy sporting pastime.
Just imagine the finished product at 25 with a start like that

Geez, China has this one child per family ruling----The "Western World" could to do something similar but limit it by a maximum of kilograms or pounds of offspring.

OK, so I said there was a second epidemic and that it could be related---well, you've got the remote control, start channel surfing.

Where the fuck did all of these cooking shows and Chef competitions come from on free to air television.
Is this it's own subliminal epidemic luring the sedentary food voyeurs---lip lickers--midnight grazers.
We used to have the occasional mother of four, showing her skills at cooking breakfast lunch and dinner to satisfy her family and backing a few biscuits of cakes for special treats---but now.
Now they are "celebrities".
We have an arrogant Scotsman who has a limited command of the English language and substitutes the word fuck for all and sundry meanings. I doubt that Scotland claims him being that he was raised in England from the age of five, but he has won so many awards.-----but I have never been fascinated by his cooking and none of it seems to be overly healthy.
The Naked Chef has been applauded for trying to get health menus into British schools but every time I see him cooking up a storm it seems to consist of loads of meat cooked under gallons of animal fat products with three varieties of potatoes and a few wilted greens
Then we have the competitions---amateur chefs competing against each other under the watchful eyes of abusive overweight professionals, producing menus of calorie exploding, sugar coated, chocolate filled goodies for the chunky judges to taste.

Wouldn't it be nice if they could produce something that didn't include a Mars Bar salad with chocolate fudge topping.

Even the food we cook at home is fast food---ah, the microwave oven---the destroyed of anything green or orange. When did vegetables have the consistency of mush and all have that same taste of paper glue.

OK, I'm not the thinnest guy in the world and I do love a feed of that tasty fast food, but I limit it to a weekly treat---and I walk the beach every day ---and I take notice of how my waistline feels in my jeans.
Sport was something that was not only on offer to me at school but one full lesson a week was compulsory
Although not great sporting people, my parents made sure that fresh air and exercise were part of my daily menu.

I am horrified to think that we have come this way, but more I can see it getting worse.

I can see it being the end of the human race. Unless the future brings proportionately larger dangley bits, I can't see the sexes being able to get together to breed another generation.

OK, I'm off for a chocolate wagon wheel and a thick shake---or maybe that delightful Dutch girl will come visiting with some donuts

NOTHING

OK, that's what I've been doing.
Geez, you're off line for a few weeks and people start reading the obituaries and start lining up for their share of your porn collection.

Well, sorry kids but I'm still here
I haven't got anything to say other than you should never buy an Acer computer.

Less than 12 months old and after cleaning it's own litter box of all records it shut itself down without even a fuck you Clyde----
And the Guarantee service agents in each State of Australia have been amalgamated to one centralised agent in another state.

So after that first phone call with that automated answering service---you are number 47 in the cue---which lasted 84 minutes, they offer to email me a shipping slip so that I can send this heap of shit back to them.
Now, can you see what's wrong with that---no, well they couldn't---email me a slip--hey, my computer is stuffed so I don't have email access

"Ok sir, we will Fax it to you"----ha, I don't have access to a fax---"oh, I guess we could post it to you"----yep, that will work---but before you run away, I have to ask about the battery in this thing---it wont hold a charge for any longer that 3 minutes, which isn't quite long enough when I want to watch porn in bed---"OK sir, send the battery with the computer and we will replace it."

I doubt that the had used the postage system before cos it took 5 days for the shipping slip to get here.

Ok, the rest of the story is as bad and boring as the first bit but suffice it to say, all up, I was off line for four weeks and I missed you all.
Oh, I still cant watch porn in bed because they forgot to send the battery back---ha, and when they did, it was my old battery.

Yes, get yourself an Acer

I need another drink

FOREVER

When I fell in love, I thought it would be forever--I think it is because I remember every girl I ever fell in love with and they all have a place in my heart.

I'm a giver, a provider, lover
I want to give the girl I love everything that I can.
I want to provide everything to make her feel as special on day one thousand as she is on day one.
I want her to know that she is loved forever.

I have not succeeded in love---I'm probably not good enough---I'm probably doing it all wrong---but I want to keep on trying---I want to get it right.

I met an old man while I was working for a bookmaker on the racecourses on the weekends to earn enough money to buy a house for my love.
He used to bet with us on every race---he was there every Saturday.
He seemed so miserable and I could never engage him in any conversation---he seemed so lonely.

I lost my father nearly 12 months before he died---his mind went before his time and my mother could not care for him----I had to find him full time nursing care in an old age facility.
It was hard--I visited every day on my way home from work---he would know me one day and not the next---we would talk for hours one night and the next he would turn away from me.
I never knew if it was anger or his mind but I just had to love him and be there for him.
I would take my mother to visit on weekends---he would not talk to her---she visited with a friend during the week but he never spoke---but she kept on going because this was the man she loved.

Dogs were allowed to visit the facility, so on the second weekend I took my Labrador to see her dad---he used to care for her while I was at work---they walked my beach every day.
My dad was in the day room lounge and that beautiful dog was glad to see him but he pushed her away---he had forgotten her. While we talked my dog wandered across to people who called her and then across the lounge to the far corner and sat in front of a woman in in a reclining bed/chair---she had a man with her---he was dealing cards--two hands and playing both because she couldn't move he hands---there was no verbal communication, just eyes but her eyes were on my dog.
I called for her to come back but she just sat---so close to this lovely lady---it was almost hypnotic between them.
I went to get her and the old man looked up and said, "It's OK, my wife loves dogs and she loves that one"---it was the miserable old man from the racecourse---he looked at me and said "Please don't tell anyone"----I thought I knew what he meant----that he didn't want me to tell anyone about his wife.

The nursing staff told me later that his wife had been there for seven years and that he visited her for four hours every day except Saturdays---they wondered what he did on Saturdays----I knew then what he meant---he felt bad taking one day for himself and not visiting his wife.
We spoke a little more at the racecourse---he would smile occasionally, not often.
He would nod in acknowledgement when he saw me at the facility, but no more.
My dog would go and sit with them when she visited

He loved his wife and it was a love that lasted forever

How privileged are we to find someone to love and that someone who loves us.
How wonderful it must be when it lasts forever

TOO YOUNG

The drinking age in Australia was 21

He was too young to drink, too young to live the life of a man, yet he was old enough to enlist in the Army.
It was not a chosen career, it was not something he wanted to do but he thought that he should.
There was a war in Europe and we were part of the Commonwealth.
Our soldiers were going and they needed more.
There was no conscription, it was voluntary and he volunteered

He was a boy----not tall or robust. He had never seen a gun or owned knife. He hadn't finished his trade apprenticeship but he signed up---he thought it was right--he thought that he should.

He had never been lucky, things never seemed to go his way yet he was prepared to gamble with his life.

Basic training was over and he was heading for the war---the last day in Australia, and it could be the last day he ever saw his country.
His luck did not improve when he and a mate were placed in charge of loading luggage onto the troop ship---the rest were allowed to have time with family and friends and even drink---yes, they were now soldiers and the age law did not apply to them.
A little luck turned into the luckiest day of his life.
They had finished loading the luggage and supplies, so his mate convinced him that they should have a drink for a good job done ---why not---there was two hours til departure time and they were legal---the wharf workers directed them to a local hotel and away they went.
They weren't gone that long but it was too long---departure time was an hour before what they had thought and back at the wharf they saw their ship sailing away---they were quickly reassigned and and sailed three days later.
What they didn't know til after the war was that their original ship sailed into Singapore Harbour not knowing that Singapore had fallen to the Japanese---the troops were prisoners without firing a shot in anger.

He saw action in North Africa and the Middle East and survived to be sent back home to Australia but his war was not over.
He didn't get back to his State or his family before his battalion was posted to New Guinea.
He never told me but I know he walked and crawled the Kokoda Trail, I know that he suffered badly and that he came home with mental images and memories that no one should ever have.
He never spoke of the war in terms of battle
He found no glory in anything that had happened.
He would talk of the wonderful people in Palestine and how beautiful he found the country to be---how wonderful the jungles of New Guinea smelled and how friendly the natives were, but no more.
He had no hate in him for the men he fought---they were doing no more of a job than he was.

Today is Anzac Day in Australia---a day we remember all of those who have fought to protect the liberties of this country and it's allies.

But I remember him every day---he is my hero.

I miss you dad, I love you

RESURRECTION

OK, a little Clyde history lesson.

I grew up in a loving family of four. One brother and two wonderful caring parents.
My brother died young, never having married and having no children.

I married a beautiful woman who had a child from a previous marriage. Our plan was to have at least one more child----well, that was the agreed discussed plan.
After failing to get pregnant for quite some months, my beautiful lady went off to have some medical tests which resulted in me going off for tests----I passed with flying colours but after a few more months, I was asked to try testing again.
I phoned my wife's doctor to get my result but was told that I was not the patient and they could only give my wife the result.
Although he shouldn't have, my wife's doctor phoned me a couple of weeks later----he said he knew he shouldn't tell me but that there was no way my wife would conceive while she still took birth control pills.
I never confronted her---I just hoped that she would change her mind.

She never did and that plus many more factors resulted in a bitter separation and divorce.

My experience made me a little less trusting but I still wanted children and I hoped for a loving relationship-----I still hope but I think I'm past the children stage---unless the lovely lady already had children to bring into any relationship.

Both of my parents have died since, so I am a family of one---oh, except the beautiful dog laying at my feet.

Eight years ago I had a relationship with a girl 20 years my junior who I had met through work.
It was her instigation---I was reluctant at first but she was very insistent.
Caroline was young, beautiful, forward, horny and I was alive.
The relationship lasted just on 8 months but finished as abruptly as it started---she walked out one day to spend a weekend with her mother and never came back.
There was no explanation, there was no fight----she just left and didn't want to talk----she got angry if I contacted her so I just had to leave it as a mystery of life.

On Friday I ran into an old work mate----I hadn't seen him in 7 or 8 years---we talked for hours when he came up with a great revelation----it was so off the cuff, I don't know where it came from----but there it was.
"So Clyde, are you the father of Caroline's son?"

I had no idea that he knew Caroline or that I had a relationship with her.
Turns out that his partners' sister is Carolines best friend and that he knew everything about us----including Caroline giving birth in a period of time that could count me in for fatherhood.
He also knew that the child's birth was registered without a father and that Caroline insisted that she didn't know who it was and had claimed to have a few partners around the time of our break up.

So tell me where I stand now.
The few times over the years that I have tried to contact Caroline, she has become very angry.
When someone from work contacted her in relation to another official matter, she accused them of phoning on my behalf and accused me of stalking.

I cant force this matter----how much of a stalking wanker would I be to try to interfere with her life now.
How could I join in now even if I was the father of her son-----he hasn't known a father----it would not be fair on him---it's not fair on her----how would she explain it to him.
I am almost a desperate to find out-----even just knowing would satisfy me---but I am sure that she wouldn't tell me now.

I have a lot to think about
I'd given up on fatherhood, but maybe I am.