Posted by Wonko D. Sane in Shameless Plug
With the ending of September comes another bookmark in my life - 3 years of blogging.
Posted by Wonko D. Sane in Writings
He stands in the middle of the room
With no one there but himself
The sound of his heavy, labored breathing
Ricochets from empty wall to empty wall
He slowly closes his eyes and lets his arms leave his side
To wrap around her body
The music pulsates to match his quickening heartbeat
As their dance intertwine their limbs
The heat of her body presses against his chest
As they spin around and around the room
The scent of her intoxicates his inner being
As desire slowly rises from within
Posted by Wonko D. Sane in All Thinks Geeky
Well, it has been about six months since I joined the online community of WoW and it has been quite an adventure so far. Within a short amount of time friendships, although virtual in nature, have developed and a sense of community has been established. I looked back at when the character that I mostly use, or otherwise known as my 'main,' and chuckled as I remember the armor and weaponry that I once had. The first photo was taken after learning how to tame my first pet. To the non-WoWer, it seems to be such a small accomplishment. Believe me, there is nothing more exhausting then running around like a fool trying to find meat and fish for a grumpy pet.
Time marched on and even though my level of proficiency increased, my understanding of the inner workings of the game did not. For the n00b, it is a matter of survival and trying to figure o
ut how to get enough gold together to get the really cool weapons/armor, when to run a dungeon, when is it okay to raid, and whether or not you should upgrade your pet every 5 levels or so. Needless to say, I relied on the Vets to help me out. To an outsider, it seems silly to spend any time on this fantasy game. But for me, it is more a way to relax and forget the issues of the day. Besides, I'm a geek and we have less options when it comes to 'relaxing.'
So now, I am at that magical level, level 60. I top out in 10 levels and still have not completed too many of the Epic quests in the upper level areas. I spend a ton of time helping n00bs (rookies) and waiting for my friends to catch up so can reek havoc together.
The point is thus, I am a geek and this is my outlet and thus I feel the need to share.
-WTS
Posted by Wonko D. Sane in Pet Peeves
One of the first rants I ever published was on QTV and had to deal with the "miracle" of Baby Einstein. I'm not going to revisit the entire rant, but just sum it up by saying that it is always amazing to me that parents feel the overwhelming urge to force their toddlers into a college education.
In a recent article published in a Pediatrics Journal, research was conducted focusing on whether or not programs such as BE and the like actually work. During the study, scientists compared children whose parents ran them through the program versus those who did not. What they found may shock you...
It was found that small toddlers that used the BE program lost about 6-8 vocabulary words. How many times must this be said? In order for your child to develop, you must interact with them and not stick them in front of the television.
At least now, I have some scientific backing...
-WTS
Posted by Wonko D. Sane in Writings
The alarm buzzed loudly with its droning sound that reminds him of 10,000 crickets in a jar that is being held underneath a shallow pool. He reaches for the offensive noisemaker and ends up accomplishing nothing but rearranging his stuff on the nearby stand. After a few more minutes, it dawns on his befuddled brain that he had the notion to place the alarm on the other end from where he was sleeping so he would have to physically get up to turn the damned thing off. Scratching his head ruefully, he decides that there would be no way around it; he would have to get up this very minute.
Slowly, ever so slowly, he swings his legs over to the right and begins the morning ritual of trying to remember how to stand upright, or as close to it as possible. The ghosts of his last dream swims in and out of focus and a grin once again flits his lips as he remembers who was there and exactly what they were up to. Sighing deeply, he finally manages to get off of the rickety thing that he calls his sleep enchancer. His feet are screaming protests inside of his brain because they can not believe that they have to go to work so soon.
His brain begins to have an internal struggle as time will only one course of action or else risk being late. The right half wants coffee while the left half wants to take a shower. Reaching some sort of compromise, he grabs what was left from last night's pot and takes a shower, somewhat relishing the cold infusion of stale coffee and hot cascading water. Letting the water pour over his head, he once again thinks of her and lets time slip. Left brain slaps right into a stupor causing him to jolt back into reality.
Barely toweling himself dry, he begins to shave and brush while his cat takes care of grooming his owner's legs with sandpaper-like precision. Making sure that there are no whisker patches, he begins to think about the day ahead and wonders what exactly he is going to do with his students today. Grabbing a combination of matching shirt and slacks, he grumbles at the sticking shirt to his somewhat semi-dry body and double-checks to make sure that he has black socks on. Doing a final check, he gently pats the cat on the head and gives the usual, "You're in charge."
Inwardly regretting the cold coffee as it begins to reek havoc on his internal workings, he slides into the driver's seat and turns the engine over. Glancing at the dashboard clock, he groans as he realizes that the window to miss traffic has expired and he was in for a slow drive to work. Not wanting to waste an opportunity, right brain begins to formulate a lesson for the day, while the left side is quietly humming to itself resenting the right side for ending the dream before the really good parts occurred.
Taking an extra twenty minutes to get to work due to the other brains not doing their jobs and causing accidents, He arrives to his campus and gets to his post with only minutes to spare. Quickly posting the objectives, he gets to his door in time to hear the first bell ring. His only regret was he didn't have enough time for his second cup of coffee...
(to be continued)
-WTS
Posted by Wonko D. Sane in Observations
Now for another topic that I have been itching to talk about but apparently was waiting for that just right moment to discuss size. Once again, I am going to issue a warning before beginning my discussion. If the topic of the male anatomy makes you squeamish then watch this video and move on. Once again, you have been warned and I am going to give the Full Monty as the saying goes...
I have pretty much covered the reasons why Americans are so anal about naughty parts and the like, so I am not going to rehash. I am more curious on the spare flesh that one part of the human race has and how it has affected human nature in general. This topic is indeed a handful and most of it is solely based on my observations and experiences. Not very scientific, I know, but there you are.
How many times have you been in a group and a comment dealing with size of something not related to what you are thinking right now, is brought up? The various reactions will clue you in on the truth of what people really think. Women who look at each other and grin/wink /roll their eyes pay very close attention to size. Women who blush/ get angry/storm out have either have never seen a naked man, are very religious and have no clue that they come in different sizes, or are taking up the defense of their husbands.
Men who snicker are typically immature idiots who think the have the biggest one in the room. Men who look at the ceiling think that have the biggest one in the room and are taking the more mature approach. Men who stare at their feet are also taking the mature approach but also have a key chain that says "It is not the size of the wand that matters, it is the magic within!" (of course given to them by their girlfriend/wife)
Keep in mind, the subject that caused all of this fuss had absolutely nothing to do with male girth. However, it does have everything to do with the concept of which sex deems size more important.
On the surface, many would think that it would be women. They are, after all, the catchers in the scheme of life and indeed many prefer the bat to be at average. Then again I've been told by some women that they have told their potential lovers that there was no way he was even going to come near her with that thing. Then you have your magic wand lovers. Irregardless they talk about the male size and use different things to rate them with. Types of fish, vegetables, and hod dogs have been used in front of me.
Irregardless, women on the whole will talk about size being important but not a deal breaker. Technique, stamina and causing her to make that particular squeaking noise are more important. For you see, women on the whole are more forgiving of a man's shortcomings as long as they can get the "Big O." Plus they have the secret that with a simple snicker, they can destroy a man then go off somewhere, pop batteries into "Mr Shakey" and have a pleasant experience on their own.
Therefore, it is to the male ego that we must look to.
Growing up, the concern of being of normal size was huge concern. Around middle school age, it as tough enough to keep that damn thing under control, let alone not knowing if it was good enough. Many a time I sweated out the nearing of the end of class only because shirts had to be tucked in and I let my thoughts wonder yet once again. As we got older, the insult to throw at each other typically had something to do with the size of the insultor or the insultee. We told each other to suck this and that or threatened to hit somebody up side the head "the big club."
Men don't talk to each other in the bathroom for one simple reason, to avoid eye-crotch contact. When you are being forced to do your thing right next to another male, you stare straight at the wall silently. That is the unspoken rule with men and you run the risk of being punched if you so break it. Striking up a conversation might encourage that slight glance. Quite
often I will see some men almost climb into a urinal to discourage peekers.
We men are more worried about the size of an object that oddly enough many men feel it makes them superior to women. Kinda ironic...
Don't ask me to go into any further explanation on this topic. For if you do, I will take the nearest chair and begin to calmly stare at the ceiling smiling...
-WTS
Posted by Wonko D. Sane in Politics
Here are the questions that coincide with Patriot Day:
Posted by Wonko D. Sane in Personal Musings
My pattern on this day is talk about remembering someone in my life who died on board the flight that slammed into the Pentagon and reflect on the pointlessness of his death.
Today I was struck with the thought that I should remember him and not be political this year.
-WTS
Posted by Wonko D. Sane in Men and Women
As you can tell, there is a slight delay between the posting and the posted posting date. The main reason for this is that I am slightly changing the way I write. Basically, instead of lowering my head and finishing one entry, I'm writing down different ideas as the occur to me. Part of my frustration over the summer is that I was running out of things to talk about (shock) and was pounding my head trying to remember something from the other day.
Anyhow, thanks for the reflections and emails on the posting I made on breasts and breast handling. Some great comments were made and proved my point about being comfortable enough with the one that you are with before going for the "main event." As odd as this might sound coming from a male, there is something about the passion point and just acting like ferrets in heat. However, if you care enough to be with someone it is important to find out what they like and how they like it.
I have also been told that I have not really answer the question yet...
More contemplation I think is in store...
-WTS
Indeed, the experience is much better...
-WTS
Posted by Wonko D. Sane in Personal Musings
After a long, and somewhat trying day, I was relieved that the clock had finally hit the witching hour and it was indeed time to face the long journey home. After completing my regular routine of shutting down things and packing my stuff, I breathed a slight sigh of accomplishment. Getting closer to my car, I noticed that something was awry. That terrible sinking feeling crept in as I noticed that the driver's side was a bit lower in the rear than the passenger side.
Groaning, I realized that the tire was indeed flat and now I would have the incredible task of changing the tire. It is not so much the changing of the tire that bothers me, it is getting to the spare tire that does. I spend a ton of time on the road, so I basically life in the vehicle. Books, boxes, and other sundry things attached to my profession adorn all sections of my car. Now, I had to move everything out from the back area to get to the spare.
The spare...
There is one major problem I have with the automobile industry and it is that sorry excuse for a spare tire. I don't even call it a spare because it doesn't match the other four. In fact, as I replaced the tires just last year, the spare is somewhat smaller than the others. The logic boggles me...
Anyhow, imagine if you will me taking out all my possessions from the back of my vehicle and trying to stack them in the back seat. Not an easy task since the person who parked on the same side of the flat parked way too close. SO picture an already ticked off Wonko in his work clothes, sweating like hell, and trying to get the jack in that right spot to lift the vehicle. What I didn't know is that soon I had a silent audience behind me who were watching me change a tire. With arse in the air, I placed the jack and began to twist the screw and the vehicle began to lift.
It was then a smattering of applause came from behind me that made me aware of other people's presence. It is indeed difficult to regain composure while being smeared in dirt, sweat, and tire smudges. I was just glad that I had passed on the bean burrito lunch that day.
Finally the tire was changed, the truck uneven, and everything was unceremoniously tossed in the back of the truck. I made my way back home. Fortunately for me, I spent so much time changing my tire that I hit traffic smack dab in the worse portion of jam hour. It was fortunate because I was warned by one of my spectators to not let the vehicle get over 45mph.
And this was only the beginning...
-WTS
Posted by Wonko D. Sane in Men and Women
Before I get to the topic, I am placing a warning on this entry that I will be discussing things that is considered by many as being "taboo". Therefore if talking about breasts make you squeamish, check out this cute kitty video, bury your head back into sand and go on to another entry.
I was with a group the other day and for the life of me, I have no idea how the topic got started, but I was faced by a perplexing question that, as far in my history as a man, have never been asked. Simply the question was this, "How come you men don't know how to handle boobs?" I was taken to silence as the other men in the group began to contemplate as well. In sudden inspiration, my fellows began to talk about techniques and making numerous hand gestures to enhance their descriptions. It wasn't that I was uncomfortable, indeed I can talk and look at the subject all day. It was a matter that I did not have an answer. The speaker had no frame of reference to myself nor my skills at "boob handling" so I was perplexed at the generality. The only conclusion that I could come up with was that men must (pardon the pun) suck at it.
To begin with, I know that in previous posts I have indeed mentioned that I am a huge shoulder fan. Well located just south of the shoulders are indeed a pair of topics that I also enjoy. To me, unlike some of my counterparts, the size and shape does not matter to me. (Eye rolling must stop now) As I have mentioned before the inside is the part that is most important to me.
With all that said, i will quit tap dancing and get to the subject matter in hand...
Breasts have always been a distinguishing characteristic of the female portion of our species. It is the one feature of the female anatomy that is noticeable even when covered. More learned art historians can broach the topic of how breasts are portrayed in art, but from what I recall, they have either been used to demonstrate motherhood, beauty, comfort, and in some cases strength. Culturally speaking, depending on the climate of the tribe, they were either covered or exposed to natures elements. In areas where the breasts are exposed, they become more of a symbol of functionality as well as the secondary feature of sexual attraction. The cultures where breasts are covered, they become more sexual in nature, and indeed more of a mystery.
For a lengthy period of time, especially during the polytheistic periods, Europe enjoyed breasts and even have festivals celebrating the nature of breasts and those attached to them. Conservatism swept over Europe like a wet blanket with the introduction of Christianity and thus breasts had to go into hiding. Women were forced by conservatism to put on as many layers as possible and to dare not show any shred of skin that even hinted a curve. Sure there were rule benders, but most of them were the wealthy or in the "business."
Since then, Europe has made the slow transition to being more relaxed about the human body. You can see this transition just by looking at the beaches, television, and fashions. Unfortunately for us in America, we were founded at the time of religious conservatism and in spite of the waves of liberalism, we remained tight and insecure of our bodies.
"Ahh," you may begin thinking, "finally he is making his point!" Indeed, the history of America is not to talk about sex, sexual pleasure, or even naughty parts. That is why we have so many different terms for breasts ranging from cans to knockers. This uptightness of ourselves has been handed down from generation to generation until we have produced a series of men who are clueless on what to do with a pair of boobs once we catch em.
We sit around and talk about them, sure. But really beyond that we are quite clueless on what to do for a few good reasons. First of all, we may have nipples as well but beyond that ours are non-functioning and not as sensitive. Thank goodness for that otherwise, a man would never leave the house. Second of all, breasts have a certain mystique about them as if they can cure the common cold with just the slightest brush. I know that you women know that with the ever so slightest touching of your breasts against a man's arm that it can cause anything from instant stupidity (or enhanced if you prefer) to the man passing out.
Third, I would like to blame the bra on the inability of a man to handle things correctly. Yes, I know that it was invented by a man and I really question that for the simple fact that why would a man invent something the he himself could not easily get in and out of? Bras are created for health reasons, I get it. However, do us the favor and get them out of the way for us. Our blood flow has been diverted from our brains and concentrating on a snap, clasp, or complicated locking mechanism is beyond us.
Finally, I would like to recommend that you tell your man what to do. We have been stupefied by the sight of your bare breasts and will do anything that you command. Also, if you are not his first, please remember that he is only going by past experience and his previous partner(s) may have enjoyed things being bitten hard. So, by all means, tell us to twist this, rub here, stroke like this; it doesn't matter because we will do it. We are just honored that you are allowing us to touch them without being struck by a blunt object.
Or, I am off base here?
Whistling casually...
-WTS
Posted by Wonko D. Sane in All Thinks Geeky
There is something to be said about really wanting something in life and taking on the difficult decision of whether or not to go for it. For once, I'm not talking about sex, even though that would be something interesting to talk about...
I am talking about trinkets; things that we get for ourselves that we really want... OK, you probably guessed in the light of Apple's recent announcement that I'm talking about my purchase of an iPhone. To begin with, I love this gadget and have used the hell out of it. I have not run into of the issues that have been reported in then news. In fact, I am composing this entry on it while waiting for my tire to be fixed (I'll talk about this adventure soon)
Well I knew very well that the price on these little beauties would drop. It is a given that the latest thing will be cheaper over time. However, I was not prepared for the drop to occur so quickly after its release. On top of that, the HUGE drop made my eyes screw up and my nose twitch. Yes, I should have waited, but there you are...
The thing that has me wondering is why such a huge drop and why so quickly? I'm sure slow sales and murky reviews might have had something to do with it. I know that it was mostly done to encourage early Christmas shoppers. But still, there is a sense of trust with Apple that I would not but this disappointed with them.
For whatever reason, Apple has done it to me once again without first kissing me. Don't get me wrong, I am still a fanboy, I would just wish I would learn a bit more patience when it comes to my toys...
-WTS
***Update***
After I wrote this posting, I received an email and was directed to a letter from Steve Jobs himself. Even though it does not make up for my total loss in my early bird investment, to me it speaks volumes about a company that is knowingly prepared to take it in the shorts.
Huzzah
Posted by Wonko D. Sane in Writings
As the man sits in his innermost place
He sits at ease his thoughts are of one
Finally at peace while the rest of the world
Passes him by without a second glance...
He floats no longer impeded by Earth's iron grip
Through the avenues he travels, oblivious to everything
Flashing lights illuminate the peripheral of his vision
As if trying to impede his thoughts
Visions of joy and pain mix
As if they were one
Memories of love and tenderness' first kiss
Stirs him from deep within
The man looks towards where he just left
Only to find himself still there
Comprehension dawning he looks once
To return nevermore...
-WTS
Posted by Wonko D. Sane in Personal Musings
There are a few things in life that will instantly transform me back into a kid once again. Things ranging from an Abbott and Costello movie to looking at my Space 1999 trading cards will instantly make me want to look in the kitchen for a jelly sandwich. One such occurrence is shopping for tennis shoes. I know I'm dating myself when I use the terminology "tennis shoes" but it my blog so there poopie head and any nasty emails and you won't be invited to my birthday party.
See? Even talking about the quest for the coolest pair of tennies makes me revert to long-forgotten patterns. Anyhow, I was looking at my poor, dilapidated pair of sneakers and decided that it was indeed time to get a new set. My socks were sticking out on the sides and the bottoms were wearing very thin. Off I went to, you guessed it, Walmart to fulfill mu quest for sturdy shoes under thirty bucks. (Funny, I know when I'm getting older when I choose price and comfort over style and name)
There is one things that I need to mention even to the squeamish. I have big, flat feet and shopping for something comfortable is often something only found in an Amazonian big game hunt. I'm not about to make jokes about me with big feet right now but yes, it is true. We wear big shoes...
So up and down the VERY small men's aisle I go looking for non-descript, comfortable, and in my size. I snort at the numerous women's shoes that are clogging every other aisle and decide finally on the brand. Digging through the stacks I come up with one shoe, the right one that is the right side. I now have the onerous task of digging through other pairs looking for its mate. Logically I know that someone just didn't steal one shoe.
Finally, I found the left one in a box with 3 other left shoes and I try them on. This I totally do out of habit from shopping with my mother. She would make sure that we would prance up and down the aisle to ensure that things worked out. This was always a huge stress factor because as a kid I worried that if they were too tight or slid on the heel that I would not be able to get the pair that I selected. I still remember walking up and down the aisle as if on the catwalk, mom pressing down hard on the big toe to see where it was in relation to the shoe, and breathing a sigh of relief when it passed inspection.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I got on my old pair with my socks sticking out the sides, found an empty box (or emptied one to be accurate) and strode off to make my purchase. Once in my vehicle I literally ripped open the box and jammed my new shoes on with giggling delight. Now, I'm tempted to call all on my phone list to let them know that I have new tennies and to see if they wanted to race.
For you see, these make me run faster...
-WTS
Posted by Wonko D. Sane in Personal Musings
Well it is about time that I talk about something that is yet again one of my weaknesses, a good set of, you guessed it, eyes.
Wiser people than I have discussed their feelings on the topic calling the eyes the mirror of someones soul. Others have given these wondrous orbs personalities by making them blaze, sparkle and gleam. We can sense emotions from looking at someones eyes. Feelings such as
passion, fear, and sadness are easily conveyed by just those two organs.
Whether or not we can actually peer into ones soul is debatable. However, there is indeed something real sexy about gazing into someones eyes. I can get lost real easily in someone else's peepers. Unfortunately some feel uncomfortable with me doing this. "What are you doing?" and "Stop, you're making me blush" are common demonstrations. I'm really not sure why but maybe they have a fear of me sucking our their souls through their eye sockets. Actually, I'm just looking into the warmth of the other person's inner being, not trying to suck it out. Sounds kinda poetic, but to me it is the truth.
The color of a person's eyes has never been an issue. The color itself is enhanced by the beauty of the person. I know there are those out there who judge by the color of ones eyes (blue-eyed devil for example) but to me color of ones eyes does not equate to beauty. i have seen some real wondrous browns, blues, greens, grays, and hazels and the commonality was the people were incredible themselves. This is why I'm so against colored contacts.
-WTS
