emiafish

I love getting a nice strong massage from a big burley bear of a man, NOT! Give me a sweet and sexy woman every time. On the subject of massage: oil or powder?

As I understand it, Chinese or Asian cowgirl is when your partner lowers herself on your member while staying on her feet as opposed to kneeling when she straddles you. Of the two choices, missionary or spoon, I would pick mish! I like to see my partners face. Natural blond or red thatch?

I'm a city boy. The Maritime life seems more like a vacation getaway. Cats or dogs?

Naked tandem parachute free fall. We don't pull the cord till we both get off, kinda like eagles mating. Though I admit the probability of faking an orgasm increases exponentially as the ground rushes towards us. :icon_eek:

Sudafed. The only cold medication available over the counter that I can pronounce with a really bad head cold. "I saib, can I hab a Sudafed?"

I like webothscore because he's a realist and his contributions are always fun to read.

Ever barf on a lap top? I have. Here's a tip, if you have the chance, don't do it.

Brunch, but I like the sound of Lupper (kinda naughty) Shoe string or spiral cut fries?

Hot and humid? check Planning on a hot and sexy play date? check Caught a fucking nasty summer cold? Triple-fukin-check!! Sucks to be old with a cold. As for realnicehat's Seuss moment: I do not like a cold, not when I was young and not when I'm old. I won't like it in a boat, or wearing a coat, or even when I'm fucking a goat. I do not like a cold, I never will, a cold is something I would gladly spill.

Breakfast at a local dinner. It is sort of a morning tradition. Beat the traffic on the Queensway, have my coffee, paper eggs & toast, then sail into work before 8:00 am.

I've always wanted to be a good height for my weight. These days, that would make me a seven footer! But seriously, I wanted to be six feet tall but topped out at 5'10. Oh, and I don't wear heels. (They hurt my ankles)

DATY - dining at the 'Y' is the main course. The 'O' is a snack or desert. Vaginal or clitoral orgasm?

Sitting in my office avoiding work.

Listening to tunes on my screened in deck, sipping a cold one (water, natch) and marvelling on how much my face can sweat. PS wet fingers and iPads do not play well together.

Thongs, I love a cheeky lass. Sleep in or afternoon nap?

I like Nicky because she is a real down to earth woman who says what she thinks. A rare talent in a world threatened by Political Correctness.

A frozen chocolate dipped banana. Tasted great, but looked very suggestive. Not that I cared.

I have mixed feelings about the communication revolution that we are living with at the moment. As often happens when the speed of advancement outpaces our customs, we struggle to find balance. The Internet surrounds us and binds us together. Smart phones and tablets, desk tops and lap tops give us access to information and each other in a way that has never happened before in all of human history. So in a way it is not surprising that we see behaviours that have us wondering about the state of humanity and cause despair for our youth. I love that I can learn just about anything with a touch. I have instant access to news, weather, music, entertainment, friends and just about anything else I could want. I tend to avoid social media, not as political statement but more because at this stage in my life I just don't need it. If I were in my teens today, I would be neck deep in social media. The Internet can be a haven for idiots and assholes. I avoid them. Less drama and I'm happier. I leave my work issued Blackberry on my night stand when I get home. It stays there all weekend long. I leave it at home when I vacation. I let my employers know that I'm theirs for the time they compensate me, but my time remains mine. So far, it seems to work for both Parties. I used to resent the Blackberry. I considered it an electronic ankle bracelet and an anchor. Then I set my night stand boundaries. Now my BB and I get along just fine. I no longer resent it and it makes for a useful tool during the work day. Those who have met me in person know I have little trouble expressing myself. Writing gives me a different platform from which I can share. I've come to embrace the written word again. While texting and tweeting lend themselves more to poetry and abbreviation than to carefully crafted essays, they too have their place. I want to believe that in time we will find our social balance. Once we become more comfortable with the communication revolution we will all set our own limits. The Internet may always be home to idiots and assholes and in time they may have only each other to flame and cyber-bully. The technology has improved my life more than it has hassled it. I say full speed ahead and damn the friggen Auto-correct!

I'm sitting on my screened in deck, listening to the Zac Brown Band, thinking about getting my second K-cup of coffee. The air is heavy with moisture, but not so hot that its uncomfortable. Occasionally the sound of a lawn mower drifts over the laden air and somewhere a radio is playing loudly. All in all it is a pretty good way to start a summer Sunday.

Going to get all hot and sweaty tonight. Ottawa Blues Fest + The Zac Brown Band + 40,000 screaming fans + a humidex reading > 40C = hot & sweaty. The best part? Cooling off with my sweetie in the shower then getting all hot & sweaty all over again! :makeout:

his shaky personality

with the green

Ah Sara, words are such sorry things in that they fail to convey what we truly mean. 'You will be missed' seems perfectly inadequate. 'Thank you for all you've done', falls short too. I wish you the best; happiness, health and lots of toe curling orgasms.

battery compartment, said

I stopped caring about looking younger, or older for that matter, when I turned 50. I stopped worrying about how my body looked when I got treatment for my eating disorder. I was diagnosed with Binge Eating disorder about eighteen months ago. It explained a lot. I was binging on high fat, high calorie foods, yo-yo dieting and slowly isolating myself. I would eat a family portion alone in my car at lunch. I would consume thousands of empty calories alone in the dark with the TV as my only witness. I had candy stashes and kept treats in the car. Worse, I had become completely sedentary. The most exercise I got daily was when I got dressed in the morning. Following the diagnosis, I sought treatment with a psychiatrist who specialized in treating eating disorders. I was prescribed an antidepressant to help me cope with the depression that accompanied the disorder. The six months of therapy that followed helped me to realize that valuing the opinion of others as a measure of my self worth perpetuated my own feelings of shame and inadequacy. Once I became accepting of myself and of others I was free to focus on feeling better and healthier. I work with a personal trainer three times a week. I take the stairs. I watch what I eat and I stop when I'm full. I don't obsess over food or tracking or calorie counting. I don't weigh myself any more. I had an unhealthy relationship with my body. Each day that I am in recovery is a day closer to a more active life, healthy life. I'm less concerned about how my body looks, or how young I look and more concerned about how I feel. I've come to accept my grey hair, my less than Herculean physique, my weathered skin and my laugh lines. They are my badges of honour, they are the sum of my parts. How Hollywood or Madison Avenue thinks I should look has no bearing on how I feel about myself anymore. In many ways, I'm not getting older, but I am getting better.