As I write this homage, Australia is thrashing England in the fourth Ashes Test played at Old Trafford in Manchester.
Way back when Manchester United became a highly recognizable football team, I was more or less indifferent to Manchester, the city they represented. Then, thanks to the gift of YouTube, creators, like Martin of MartinZero, are sharing their love of this remarkable city.
Manchester is a city of two rivers, the Medlock and the Irwell. There are canals dating back two hundred years. The factories that made Manchester lie idle, if not demolished out right. But the quarried stone remains, her story lives on in these stones and architecture.
I decided I would declare myself a spiritual Mancunian. I found this tee-shirt on Amazon. Now that I have a tee-shirt, there is nothing left for me to do, but renew my passport, apply for a visa, and buy a plane ticket.
Were I a true insomniac and cricket enthusiast, I would stay up for all hours to watch the Bangladesh vs Afghanistan test series taking place live somewhere in Bangladesh.
Alas, no. I shall pass. On the other hand it appears the house is cooling down after I turned the thermostat off for ten minutes. Sometimes, in order for these computer systems to reset they have to be turned off awhile,
Erotic Reverie. For The Mature. 18+ I would suggest.
Would she be ready, he wondered? It was, after all, Saturday, her day to prepare. There was hair to be styled, other hair in other places to be removed. Her clothes were her whim, but she knew which of her fancies would stir him to the quick eliciting his generosity.
“I’m in the mood for something leather, a skirt perhaps.”
Antoine, her designer who conspired to fulfill these whims, had found a red kidskin from an artisan in Italy and fashioned a most marvelous skirt that caressed the twin globes of her buttocks as if it were a coat of paint. To this masterpiece of suggestion, Antoine chose an exquisite black silk and fashioned a blouse that draped her breasts, suggesting their presence was within his grasp.
The Red and The Black. Leather and Silk. Flesh encased in luscious textures that fired not merely his lusts but hers as well. For that leather caressed her bare skin, and the tightness produced a sweaty stickiness. The silk, in turn, stroked her bare nipples to excited little points with every breath, welcoming his sucking and later the teasing pinches and then the maddening pulls.
Who is the Master of this Game, she who offers this fullness to match his concupescence, or he who rises to snap at her proffered bait?
He would have her body. She would have his. And the mutually beneficial arrangement paid for her flesh with his dollars. Never did they see their working arrangement as mutual exploitation. But mutual pleasure as attested to by their serotonin gluted synapses,
This Labour Day I did my usual non holiday things, sleep, fix J’s lunch, clean a bit, go for a swim. I am loving the routine.
C, #2 son, is supposed to be by after his piano lesson with my sister. He is going to see if he wants some stuff of his I found when I was cleaning. I am excited about his visit.
It is a bit warm. We need to have the HVAC people look at the heat pump. But it isn’t miserable.
I swam today, loving every minute of it. I have lost six pounds (2.72kg) since I last weighed myself, all of it a result of working around here, cleaning the mess up.
It was in a recent post, (Favorites, 28 August 2019), I wrote about finding out what works for your life, then once discovered, not do those things that work.
My epiphany is not giving me much solace tonight. I’m tired. I’m lonely. J has some sort of upper respiratory complaint, so she is even more remote than usual. Dinner was simple, reheating some unfinished fettuccini from Carabba’s.
So I have to suck it up, get my self back on track. I want maximum results from as little exertion on my part as possible. Just like everybody else, I guess. But it doesn’t work that way. I need to get to back to purpose.
Frank Discussion Of Sexual Topics In Last Paragraphs.
Well I was up early. No surprise there. Then I went back to bed and slept til maybe 7:45. Then I went about doing stuff I had been planning on doing since Wednesday
I started with changing the sheets, taking the old ones off, putting new ones on, laundering the dirty sheets. That job is no big deal. Then came the set of tasks I said I would do Wednesday, shirts, khakis, and neckties to the cleaners, trousers to be hemmed and cuffed, haircut, purchase salmon for tonight, gasoline for the tank.
Mrs Trinh is a sweet Vietnamese lady who runs an alterations shop near the Thrift Shop operated by the Little Sisters Of The Poor. I don’t know how her prices compare with the alteration shop run by the dry cleaners, but I don’t care. I figure she’s gone through enough crap in her life so she has earned and deserves whatever she charges.
“BereadynextFriday.”
“Thankyou, MrsTrinh.”
Over to the laundry for the clothes. When I’m set up to iron again, I will iron my own shirts and khakis, but for now, Puritan Laundry & Dry Cleaners can do them.
Next stop: haircut. I wanted it short. My stylist and I discuss length. She cut the sides short, for that sidewall look. Then cut the top short with scissors, so I would have something to work with. Was nice
BJ’s came next. I just bought salmon for tonight, and some produce, bananas and mushrooms. I bought my gas there, regular unleaded at $2.189/gal.
During this going about, I realized I forgot the videos due back at the library. Once they were returned, I came home for good put the old mattress cover in the wash, took the clean sheets from the dryer, folded them and put them away.
J came home. I took a nap.
Dinner was poached salmon, a chopped tomato, cucumber and hearts of palm salad in Ken’s Steakhouse Greek Salad Dressing. Nice dinner, fairly light because the heat is creeping back in. Fresh fruit for dessert.
Now I am tired. However BenditaTentacion, the Mexican lingerie store is on YouTube where the women are modeling the World’s Trashiest Lingerie and showing off some sex toys like vibrators, that look cheap too. (Note to self: learnSpanish). But I love these uninhibited women, having a good old time talking dildoes .
RB has been in hospital for nearly a week, recovering from pancreatitis. He had a CT scan yesterday which came back clear,
He wants to go home so he can cook ribs on the grill. Given his pancreatitis is related to his consumption of dietary fat, the ribs might have to be put on “HOLD” for a while.
My big life changes began at age 43, RB’s current age. He has already left a job that was killing him this year, between travel and stress. He is hurting now. But good things are happening.
Is it insomnia when I don’t want to sleep? I went up early, lay down beside J while she watched whatever it was she watched, something about horrible things happening to people but with happy endings on TLC.
I came downstairs around 0300 to fix her tuna salad, pack her lunch. Then I wanted coffee, the real thing, no decaf. I made a pot.
My son is still in hospital, getting better, but his lipase is elevated, along with his bilirubin. He did walk around yesterday.
So I sit now. A freight train just passed through Ashland. It was a big one, going on forever.
Today I get a haircut, take shirts and trousers to be laundered, do the things I said I would do yesterday. There is a pair of trousers I bought in late winter I never bothered to have hemmed and cuffed. Today will be the day.
Amidst all the feelings I feel in early morning is a deep sadness about the state of the world. I think we have managed to “settle” for personal freedom, such as driving anywhere we want in a car, not being bound by “heteronormative, patriarchal standards” in directing our sexual behavior and relationships, or deciding when to end our lives. But is that freedom? Of course, at one level, it is.
Peggy Lee, the great American chanteuse, had a big hit in the 60’s, “IsThatAllThereIs?“. I hear that refrain from time to time. Then I think of Job, the biblical character, who wondered why horrible things happened to him.
The fundamental human conceit is the notion that we have a right to know the answers to the mysteries of the universe. I am reminded of Icarus, the son of Daedalus, in Greek mythology. Daedalus had mastered flying by fashioning wings with feathers held in place by wax. Icarus used this mastery to fly too close to the sun, melting the wax, destroying his wings, sending him plunging into the sea.There should be no consequences for the effects of our curiosity, we declare.
I don’t know. Maybe I should just stick to getting my hair cut and my trousers hemmed. Now I am sleepy.
