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Enjoyed last night’s episode of 2HRadio with Cissa, where we talked about all sorts of things, including last weekend’s SillyBring. She and Shannon both wrote about the weekend on their blogs.

We had six of us for Sillybring: CheekySweetie, Shannon, Cissa, Whostolemyzen, NoelleD, and of course myself. Even though I brought my camera, I didn’t get any shots (aside from when Shannon and I went to Gatorama).

So let’s go with a couple of good photo sets from Cissa and Shannon, because they had the presence of mind to take lots of pics.

Here’s Shannon’s photos on Flickr.

And Cissa’s.

And my photos from Gatorama, which include the grinning Pepe LePew, who is getting laid. Lucky fucking skunk. If I want to get laid, I have to recruit crack whores…and even they are a tad picky.

Because I’m lazy and undergoing a series of anxiety attacks the last couple of days, I’m going to bulletize SillyBring.

• Shannon’s first night in Sebring nearly brought a live possum to her chair on my front porch. It was a big fucker, too. I shooed it away like it was a dog, half chasing it across my yard so that Shannon wouldn’t freak. Fortunately, despite having a run of bad luck lately, this particular possum was not, in fact, rabid, and did not leap for my throat and bite through my jugular. I assured Shannon I’d never seen a possum before, let alone had one walk up my sidewalk straight up to me…I don’t know that she believed me.
• Gatorama once again proved to kick ass. It was the one time I had my camera with me throughout the weekend. I was too busy enjoying everyone else’s company beyond that. We both got to hold a baby gator and croc, see TONS of gators in the lake (all of whom seem to be Jewish, since they swam for bagels like they were heroine), and the fucking skunks (literally). Also hung around long enough to see the gators being fed, which was something else. All in all, a fun afternoon with a VERY Floridian activity. Gator jerky available in the gift shop, please come again.
• CheekySweetie arrived a day before SillyBring to hang with Shannon and I before the other ladies got to town. Love, love, love her and enjoyed having two of my fave women together in one location again. Her laugh always gets me to smiling and laughing myself…much needed.
• Met up with Cissa, WhostolemyZen, and NoelleD at the Blue Lagoon for lunch (corn nuggets!) on Saturday. Fun and hilarity ensued (for pretty much the next 24 hours). WhostolemyZen and NoelleD and the others soon realized that corn nuggets are much like crack. Cissa was not overly impressed. Witches, whaddya gonna do?
• The next few hours were filled with shopping at Ross Dress For Less, Michaels, and some other clothing store. Shannon has been losing quite a bit of weight, and wanted some girl power to help her find clothes. The mumu looked great, but she went with different looks for some reason.
• There was much Foursquaring going on all weekend, of course. Vying for Mayorships in new venues was exhausting, but I wound up Mayor of a couple more places, even if it meant ousting some friends in the process. That’s right, bitches, I’m now a Super Mayor!
• We all spent quite a bit of time in our hotel room…2 bedroom suite, 2 bathrooms. It was perfect for the 6 of us to gather and hang. We also spent some time in the pool and hot tub. Mmm.
• Dinner at Don Jose’s Mexican that night. My Mom joined us all. It was Angel’s first time at a Mexican restaurant!
• The Why Not Lounge was perfection that night. Ladies drink free from 10-midnight (y’know, thinking of my ladies) and the people-watching was out of this world. People straight out of “Deliverance” were at the next table. I was just waiting for the banjo music to start. There were lots of big eyes (as SillyBringers stared openly at family members grinding on each other during songs, incredibly drunk folks who couldn’t talk or sing but tried anyway, and an amorous couple getting it on in the ladies’ bathroom) and laughs. Oh, and branding…can’t forget the branding. Shannon and Cissa and I sang karaoke, while Angel, WhostolemyZen, and NoelleD said “There’s not enough booze on Earth to get us up there.”
• Next morning, the girls came back to Shannon’s, Angel’s, and my hotel room and hung out some more, doing girly things like hairwraps for Shannon and Angel. I figured I’d forego the hairwrap, since my hair is maybe half an inch long.
• We went to Bob Evans for brunch (yay for blueberry crepes), lots more laughter, and ultimately our goodbyes. We took a few more photos outside, hugged and kissed each other farewell, then Cissa and WhostolemyZen and Noelle D took off for home.
• Shannon and Angel and I hung out at my house for a little while before Angel went back home. Then Shannon and I, though sad to see everybody leave, kinda vegged out and napped. I may have uttered the words, “I’m too old for this partying shit” once or twice.

And that was pretty much SillyBring. Shannon stayed another day, we enjoyed some mindless TV after our naps on Sunday. She made a delicious steak dinner for my Mom and I. Think we played some more “Price is Right” on the Wii before hitting the sack, exhausted. Next morning, more mindless TV (including RuPaul’s Drag Show). Enjoyed Shannon’s company immensely.

Then it was time to drive Shannon back to Orlando International to fly home. We listened to the Kick-Ass soundtrack on the way, having both LOVED the movie. Dropped her off at the Southwest check-in, hugs and kisses, and that was that. I drove home, sad to see Shannon go. Sad to see the extended weekend come to a close. Sad to be back in Sebring all by my lonesome.

And not to be a bummer, but my depression has really been taking a nasty turn for the worst, ramping up throughout the week ever since Shannon left. Nothing seems to be clicking for me…no matter what I try, I’m not feeling it. Reading, TV, music, being online, even rubbing one out – fucking anhedonia can suck my left one.

My naps aren’t all that great because (I think) of the Abilify. Which sucks, because naps are one of my escapes from reality. I feel paralyzed and overwhelmed, too. So much to do, some of it complicated, all of which led to anxiety attacks yesterday, where I had to constantly remind myself to breathe.

You’ve got to be a special kind of stupid to forget to breathe, yeah? I thought so, too.

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No SecondHand Radio tonight. Just can’t see how to make it happen with Shannon here. Next week at 10pm.

With everything running off the rails lately, it’s been hard for me to remember the better things in life. Things like laughing and poking fun of strangers in the airport.

I’ve spent weeks preparing for Shannon’s visit and she’s sleeping away as I write this. Finally, now I can just enjoy her company. We both wore our “Prick Buddies Unite” shirts, which garnered a number of odd looks. When you’re wearing a shirt with your picture on it and the word “Prick,” well, you do the math.

We made record time from Orlando…her luggage came out faster than Ricky Martin. Mmm, bad analogy. Glaciers melt faster than Ricky Martin came out. Let’s just say the luggage came out lickety-split.

Driving the space shuttle home, we made it in just 90 minutes. Quickly got her settled into her room and went off to the Blue Lagoon for dinner (and beer).

Showed Shannon the wonder that is corn nuggets, which are like sweet corny bits of crack. And, oh, the fried corn on the cob, which is like corny bits of crack (just on a cob).

The laughs I experience with her around are some of the best I get. She’s infectious that way, and I’ve needed the laughter big-time. Playing “The Price is Right” on the Wii with her last night rocked…she even relinquished the Plinko game to me because she’s sweet that way. SillyBring is Saturday and, yeah, looking forward to it, but I’m glad I get some one-on-one time with the Bubblewench.

This morning, while she still slept away, I went off and got my blood drawn. This afternoon, I have the Matrix Therapist (long overdue…I hate having her every other week when there are moments of crisis popping up every other hour, it seems).

Now Shannon is in my shower – woo hoo! – and we’re about to watch Tuesday night’s episode of “Lost.” At some point, we’re talking about seeing “Kick-Ass” in the theater. May go to Gatorama, too.

It’s a godsend to me that she’s here now to help throw any drama onto the back burner. Oops, here she is now. Time to watch the Smoke Monster.

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• Yesterday, another mystery ailment for the SecondHand Car. Came out to drive to dinner and the passenger-side window was rolled all the way down. I never touched the damn thing. Won’t roll back up.
• This brings me to the mechanic this morning, of course. Thankfully, no rain last night.
• LIST OF PROBS I GAVE THE MECHANIC. (1) The window, obviously. (2) The Swamp is beginning again. Find the fucking leak. (3) SERVICE ENGINE SOON light is off and on, off and on. Never stays off more than a day.
• There are 3 weeks until Shannon arrives. I need to get my shit together and get the bedrooms ready. Are you coming to SillyBring? April 24 is coming fast. So far, we have seven people, including me.
• There are a lot more Poison fans than I thought. Oddly, some of these people are friends of mine. Oddly, I still like them. The friends, not the fucking band.
• Then again, I like Rick Springfield, so who am I to judge?
• Tomorrow is not only Mom’s birthday, but my twin daughters’ birthday, too. April Fool’s! Mom is still 36 (she swears), yet I’m 43. There may have been a flux capacitor involved, I don’t know.
• Mom is doing well, by the way. This is her second week of physical therapy. Walking around, she even drove from the house to the restaurant last night. “Braking is a bitch.” Um, yeah, Mom. Let’s hold off on the driving, then, for a few more weeks. Braking? Sort of integral to the whole driving thing.
• I’ve had a couple of epiphanies of late. I don’t know what good they do me.
• Been digging “Lost” and its last season. IMAGINARY SPOILER ALERT, BUT ONLY IF I’M RIGHT. My guess for the ending is that Hurley and Sayid will replace Jacob and the Smoke Monster as guardians of the island.
• Almost caught up on “Life,” too. Great series from the same people at Discovery that came up with “Planet Earth” a few years back.
• I’m so woefully behind on virtually every series I watch that there may be no recovery.
• The Sickness. Still coughing and blowing my nose, but I’m relatively better. May start hitting the Y again tomorrow. Just in time for April’s Resolution (announced tomorrow).
• Shit, I really need to come up with April’s Resolution.
• I have the Matrix Therapist this afternoon. Doctor visit tomorrow morning. And a 2-hour drive to get my eyes examined next week. Hoping the car is fixed well before that drive. Having nothing but ordinary terrestrial radio available (should I need to take Mom’s car) is unacceptable.
• Taking mental inventory between now and therapy is gonna be tough. I don’t really KNOW how I’m feeling. Better? Worse? Same? Is the Abilify doing anything? It *might* be giving me more energy (thus, my greatly reduced nappage quotient), but it sure as hell ain’t improving my mood. I don’t think. Then again, the MT did say last time that I seemed “mellower.”
• On second glance, I think I may need to increase the dosage. Feeling like withdrawing from the Net (even like axing accounts) can’t be a good thing. Not for me, anyway. Just. Not. Feeling. It.
• I still get 20-30 “press releases” a day from people trying to get me to write about their celebrities. Hello? No longer doing the celeb thing. Please delete me from your lists. Thanks.
• I also get 10-20 emails a day telling me about Mommy issues. This is also residual ex-job stuff, but probably has some BlogHer mixed in there, as well. Your new nipple cream to help me with my sore nips after feeding my triplets? Thanks, don’t need it.
• After seeing Ben Folds with my friend, Tracy, she got tickets for us to see OK Go in May. She didn’t even ask me first. I’m not bitching. Another band I’ve never seen live. Here’s to hoping they have a giant Rube Goldberg machine set up on stage…or at least treadmills.

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One of my oldest blogging buds, James, and I have a lot of commonalities, particularly our battle with depression (and bipolar disorder). He wrote a post, listing some of the things he’s grateful for. Think I’ll follow suit because the Depression is rearing its ugly head yet again.

Feel like withdrawing from society, ignoring all social media, etc. etc. You’ve heard it all before. You’ll probably hear it again.

Sometimes you need to take stock of the good shit in your life in order to maintain some semblance of sanity.

• Despite the last week-and-a-half, I’m relatively healthy. I’m normally not hocking up half a lung. It’s a good year for me to quit smoking, since I still have my health. (And yes, that will certainly be one of the Resolutions for YOR.)
• I have good friends. I may not touch base with them nearly as much as I should, but I know that they’re there for me should I need them.
• I have a working computer. It’s ancient, it crawls along, but it works. And that’s saying something for a 4-yr-old laptop. I’m currently in the process of what will likely be a 17-hour defrag. I’m praying this is the year for the replacement to come along. (MacBook Pro, anyone?)
• My brain works. Yes, I fight depression, PTSD, bipolar disorder, ADD, social anxiety, and who knows what else. But compared to many who have it far worse? I’m thankful that my mental faculties are pretty much operating at full capacity. Usually.
• My car works pretty damn good, considering it’s 10 years old. I’m not a person who gets hung up on vehicles, since they’re a utilitarian kind of thing as far as I’m concerned. Get me where I need to go (and back) and I don’t really give a shit that there’s a swamp in the back seat or that rust is perhaps the only type of molecule holding the roof together. Well, that and the bubble gum.
• Rumor has it that Apple is developing an iPhone for Verizon. I hope it’s true. Another rumor holds that the 4th generation iPhone will be announced on June 22nd. My upgrade pricing became available in January, so I *could* get myself a 3GS, but why? When the next iPhone is due to be released in a matter of months, I’m not tying myself to a 2-year deal for LAST year’s model. I’ll be good and patient and wait. I’m praying that Apple announces not just the next AT&T iPhone in June, but the Verizon iPhone, as well. Cuz when they do? Hasta lasagna, AT&T.
• I have a place to live. That’s not to be taken for granted. I’m fortunate.
• Food. I have that, too, even if lately everything tastes like cardboard to me.
• Daughters. Despite the troubles I’ve caused in those relationships, I couldn’t be prouder of my girls. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: they are my crowning achievement.
• Family. Like most people, I have my share of dysfunctionality in my family. Hell, sometimes I feel like I’m the sane one. But I love my family, and I know that I’m lucky to have them.
• Health care. I’d be screwed if not for the V.A. Thank God I have them for my physical AND mental health. Otherwise I’d be broker than I already am.
• SillyBring is only three weeks away and then Shannon arrives!

There are many other items, I’m sure, but these are the things that spring to mind. I have a lot to be grateful for, even if my miserable curmudgeonly self doesn’t mention them as often as I should. Wish I could throw this one in there, though:

• I get laid three times a day.

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Thanks to all of you that sent in entries for the Funniest Sex Story contest. We had eight funny stories. They’ve all been read and the votes are in. Thanks to Shannon, Mike, and Janet, my amazing judges.

The Runner-Up is Sandi, who wins a special prize from the SecondHand TryptoGear store:

As a diligent public servant, I worked as a court clerk in a public safety building which consisted of only 2 stories. Rumors were rampant as police, fire, and the courts were all in 1 building, and well, boys will be boys. I kept my nose clean and my reputation cleaner refusing to “fish off my own pier.”

I had been dating someone in the legal field, which often brought them to the building several times a week. As our relationship intensified (got closer to having sex), one day 3 dozen long stem roses were delivered to my office, to celebrate our 3 weeks of dating and his 3 weeks of waiting. This of course caused quite a bit of ruckus in the rumor mill and secretaries to cops were putting out APB’s trying to figure out just what innocent little me could have done to receive 3 dozen roses.

Shortly thereafter, he arrived at my office with a single rose. He had paid his penance and waited quite gallantly. We used the NEVER used elevator since the building was only 2 stories, pushed the emergency stop button, and I began to show my appreciation for the flowers. However, a building full of firemen and cops that hear an emergency bell tend to come running quickly, and our episode was cut short. It was clear to the huge crowd when we exited the elevator either something of a sexual nature had/was going to happen or this young man had a subway sandwich in his pants.

Embarrassed highly – but not thwarted – our hormones took over once we entered my office just off the courtroom. It was a Tuesday, meaning no court, no judge, empty huge room with solid furniture. I slipped on the judges robe (why? who the fuck knows? I was horny) and we began to “make mad passionate rulings” right there on top of the judges mahogany bench.

I had the gavel in my hand and it was just insane crazy good shit, like when you haven’t eaten in a week and you eat a cracker. Yeah, damn good cracker. We were letting loose over a month’s worth of pent up sexual anxiety and tension and it was awesome. Well until the point the mayor and the local news crew with cameras rolling came thru the court room double doors and looked straight at us.

Yeah, apparently it was “student government day” and there was a high school boy shadowing the mayor and the stupid TV News thought that was a worthy story. As the mayor was showing this kid around his kingdom, I don’t think they thought they would run across a court clerk being pounded on the judges bench with cameras rolling.

Much to my pleasure, the local news was kind enough (paid off) and didn’t air the story. The guy I was dating sent more flowers but I just knew it would never be as good as it was that day so I dumped him. Plus, the mayor kind of said something about conflict of interest. Oh yeah, I had to have the judge’s robe cleaned and apologize …that sucked.

And the Winner of the $25 gift certificate from Eden Fantasys is…

Certifiable Princess! Congrats, CP. Here’s her story:

So there I was, minding my own business.

No. Really. I was.

“Minding my own business” is probably a very polite way of saying “so I was in front of the computer, getting myself off, when all of a sudden…”

Oh yeah. Like you don’t. Pffft. Whatever.

Let me take you back, back, back…way back, to a time before the hotband was in the picture. To a time when internet porn reigned supreme in my life, because frankly A) I was checking out women, not men, B) The ex was a little lacking in the “give it to me night and day, baby” department and finally C) I don’t know. I was bored, it was there.

Again. Don’t judge me. You know damn well you do it too. You just don’t admit it on your blogs.

So there I am, in my computer chair. No kids at home. No (ex) husband was home at the time. It was just me, my computer and my portable little friend, Buzz Lightyear.

*blinks* Yeah. Like you don’t have a name for your vibrators (and/or penises!).

Lawdy, so judgmental!

I am pullin’ up some sweetass lesbo porn, a few threesomes, some gangbangs, couple of upskirts…you know, your average male porn, except it was being enjoyed by me…a female. Isn’t that so erotic? *eye roll* (I can literally hear my hotband panting all the way from NYC) *snort* HONEY! You’ve heard this story already. Get over it.

Anyway, when I feel I am primed and supremely ready for the thrills to begin, CLICK! On goes Buzz Lightyear! Yes! TAKE ME THERE! To Infinity…and BEYOND! Mouse in the right hand, Buzz in my left (yes, I am ambidextrous. I am also sodium free and low in monotriglycerides) and going to funky town! Wee hoo! When all of a sudden…

*snap*

My nail breaks.

Now, most women would have ignored this completely and continued with their quest to find the honeypot, the top of the mountain, the promised land. Nope. Not me. I cannot bear to look at the brunette babe, spread-eagle in front of me, a vision of celluloid perfection…WHILE I AM SPORTING A BROKEN NAIL! No. The Jewish princess in me takes over. This simply will not do. I mean, come on. How tacky is this? I won’t even look at porn that has a poorly manicured or pedicured model. It’s not that I am a porn snob, it’s just that I am…well, okay, so I’m a porn snob. But if I expect the most from my porn, then dammit, I will be nothing less than perfect when I cum too!

I place Buzz down on my bare lap, pants down around my ankles and lean down to my purse to get out my nail glue.

SQUEEZE.

Nothing.

SQUEEZE.

Nothing.

*stab stab stab the top of the tube of glue with safety pin and SQQQQQQQUUUUUUUUUUEEEEEZE…*

SPLOOGE!

Crazy glue explodes everywhere. I drop my fingernail. Bends over to pick up said fingernail, gluing her extremely large tits to the crazy glue that has pooled in my lap.

“SHIT!” I exclaim.

“Bzzzzzzz,” replies Buzz Lightyear with a muffled cry from below my mammaries.

“HA!” snorts extremely hot brunette spread eagle on my computer screen. If she could be laughing at me, she would be.

“What the fuck could be worse than this,” I think aloud, while trying to dislodge her vibrator from between her nipple and her labia.

*sound of garage door opening*

“HOLY FUCK,” I shriek, and jump jump jump, bent over, ass out, tits glued to thighs, into my bathroom and turn on the shower.

“Honey,” says the (ex) husband, “are you here?”

“I’m in the shower,” I call back.

“But I’m here,” says the hot brunette still dangling on the computer screen.

Fuck.

It was sort of hard explaining to my (ex) husband why there was a naked woman on my computer monitor.

“There was??? Really???” I feign complete ignorance. “Oh my gosh, someone must have sent me a virus.”

*blink. blink*

After 8 years, I think the patch of skin on my upper thigh is finally the same color as the rest of my thigh. For a long time, I had a tell-tale dildo shaped white spot where my tan tore away in the shape of my vibrator.

I now refer to it as my “birthmark”. It’s this version of the story that allows me to keep my PTA membership intact.

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CONTEST

Eden Fantasys is providing me with a prize to give away to you, my lovely, dirty readers. It’s a $25 gift certificate to their shop, and believe me when I tell you, there are lots of things for girls and guys alike in that store. You could even use that $25 toward their Kissa glass vibrator. It’s waterproof and everything.

RULES

1. Email me your funniest sex stories. I want the stuff that makes me spit beer through my nose. Confusing super glue for lube is tragic, by the way, not especially funny. Email your stories to karl at secondhandkarl dot com. Be sure to put Crazy Sex Story in the SUBJECT.

2. Deadline is MIDNIGHT on Wednesday, March 24. That’s just before we officially hit Thursday. Don’t be late.

3. One entry per person, please.

4. I will not be judging the contest. Instead, I have chosen three remarkable individuals to read the stories and come up with a winner and a runner-up. The judges are: Michel (LeSombre), Shannon (Bubblewench), and Janet (IzzyMom). They won’t see the names or emails of the people sending the stories, just the stories themselves.

5. Funniest story receives the $25 gift certificate to Eden Fantasys. Runner-up will receive a special prize from the SecondHand TryptoGear store. It might even contain a peek at the new 2HT design, coming to a browser near you very soon.

So…get to writing. Make us laugh with your dirty, dirty self.

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CONTEST

Eden Fantasys is providing me with a prize to give away to you, my lovely, dirty readers. It’s a $25 gift certificate to their shop, and believe me when I tell you, there are lots of things for girls and guys alike in that store. You could even use that $25 toward their Kissa glass vibrator. It’s waterproof and everything.

RULES

1. Email me your funniest sex stories. I want the stuff that makes me spit beer through my nose. Confusing super glue for lube is tragic, by the way, not especially funny. Email your stories to karl at secondhandkarl dot com. Be sure to put Crazy Sex Story in the SUBJECT.

2. Deadline is MIDNIGHT on Wednesday, March 24. That’s just before we officially hit Thursday. Don’t be late.

3. One entry per person, please.

4. I will not be judging the contest. Instead, I have chosen three remarkable individuals to read the stories and come up with a winner and a runner-up. The judges are: Michel (LeSombre), Shannon (Bubblewench), and Janet (IzzyMom). They won’t see the names or emails of the people sending the stories, just the stories themselves.

5. Funniest story receives the $25 gift certificate to Eden Fantasys. Runner-up will receive a special prize from the SecondHand TryptoGear store. It might even contain a peek at the new 2HT design, coming to a browser near you very soon.

So…get to writing. Make us laugh with your dirty, dirty self.

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Allow me to share a few photos from the amazing Ben Folds concert the other night. Great freaking show, and my first time seeing him live. Also got to discover a new artist (for me, anyway): Zach Williams. Another outstanding performer.

He played everything I wanted to hear – “Annie Waits,” “Landed,” and even “Gone.” Banged on that piano like you wouldn’t believe. Rocked.

Back to an ongoing project…filling up that self-worth tank. Mine’s a little rusty, but y’know…

There are people that fill that tank up for me on a routine basis. Well, they try, and I’m trying to be better about absorbing the love.

Just a few of them:

1. Angel. I wrote a post about some of the things I love about that woman. All those things are true. The woman is amazing and helps keep me sane almost daily. Level head, smart as a whip (a really smart whip), and amazingly patient with me. Believe me, I require a lot of patience, particularly when it comes to buying into the nice things people say about/to me. She talks me off the proverbial ledge a lot. Makes me think about things I’m not thinking about, see things from a different perspective. She’s also woman enough to let me know when I’m being an unreasonable fuckhead. Adore, adore, adore.

2. Shannon. My Prick Buddy, and also the woman most likely to make me cough up a lung from laughing so hard. Shannon is real beyond real. She says what’s on her mind, often without a filter, and I really dig that. We text every day, swapping blood sugar readings and diabetic woes, and I wouldn’t have my diabetes under the control it’s under if not for Shannon. I admire her for the way she’s taking care of herself lately. Like me, she’s lost a lot of weight the last year, is actively working more of it off and taking an active role in her health. We talk on the phone every so often, too, and she’s one of the elite people that don’t make me want to rip my ears off if the conversation goes more than 10 minutes. (And it pretty much always does.) Good, solid people. I’d trust her with my life.

3. Sybil Law. Despite her having the blog URL from HELL, Sybil is another amazing gal who I can talk to for hours. Funny as shit, snarky, intelligent. She, too, helps ground me with her level-headed laid-back attitude. Another real-as-you-can-get girl, you pretty much know where you stand with her at all times. She has a problem, she’ll let you know. She’s great to bounce ideas off of. And she occasionally pumps sunshine up my skirt, which I’m prone to believe because I don’t think she’d say nice shit if it wasn’t something she believed. Unless it involved Dave Grohl. Love her.

Three people that make my world a better place.

Photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/brokersaunders/ / CC BY 2.0

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Tonight at 10pm Eastern, it’s SecondHand Radio with my guest Father Muskrat, who you can find on Twitter here. I met the man at BlogHer ‘09 and enjoyed his company a lot. Course, that was before I learned he has a giant tallywhacker. Now I feel slightly threatened. Nevertheless, the show must go on.

Sadly, I just learned BlogHer is sold out, so it’s pretty much a given me and my offensive t-shirts won’t be there this year. Damn unemployment.

Showtime: 10:00 PM EST, 9PM Central, 8PM Mountain, 7PM Pacific. Chatroom opens 15 minutes before showtime.

Call-In Number: 724-444-7444, Call ID 23738

Show Link: http://www.talkshoe.com/tc/23738

List of future guests can be found here.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED: To avoid browser problems (which some people tend to have with Talkshoe), you should do the following:

1. REGISTER AT TALKSHOE BEFORE THE SHOW.

2. DOWNLOAD THE TALKSHOE CLIENT.

3. If you have trouble logging in, feel free to call in and I’ll leave you on mute. You can listen to the show live that way.

The Talkshoe Live client works great and (for my money, though it’s free) offers a better chatroom experience.

Look forward to seeing you all there tonight. You’re all welcome to call in and chat.

CONTEST

Eden Fantasys is providing me with a prize to give away to you, my lovely, dirty readers. It’s a $25 gift certificate to their shop, and believe me when I tell you, there are lots of things for girls and guys alike in that store. I may own some things myself. What? A boy likes a hot pink vibrator. Don’t judge.

You could even use that $25 toward their Kissa glass vibrator. It’s waterproof and everything.

RULES

1. Email me your funniest sex stories. I want the stuff that makes me spit beer through my nose. Confusing super glue for lube is tragic, by the way, not especially funny. Email your stories to karl at secondhandkarl dot com. Be sure to put Crazy Sex Story in the SUBJECT.

2. Deadline is MIDNIGHT on Wednesday, March 24. That’s just before we officially hit Thursday. Don’t be late.

3. One entry per person, please.

4. I will not be judging the contest. Instead, I have chosen three remarkable individuals to read the stories and come up with a winner and a runner-up. The judges are: Michel (LeSombre), Shannon (Bubblewench), and Janet (IzzyMom). They won’t see the names or emails of the people sending the stories, just the stories themselves.

5. Funniest story receives the $25 gift certificate to Eden Fantasys. Runner-up will receive a special prize from the SecondHand TryptoGear store. It might even contain a peek at the new 2HT design, coming to a browser near you very soon.

So…get to writing. Make us laugh with your dirty, dirty self.

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Had a scare yesterday where I didn’t completely read a letter I got from the VA. Thought they were cutting me out of the VA system, but actually, they were denying my emergency room claim from January. Y’know, where I did the faceplant on my kitchen floor?

Paying $170 for the damn E.R. visit is much better than having to switch all of my doctors, I have to say. Lesson learned…read EVERYTHING. Then panic.

Doctor visit this morning. My blood sugar readings are highest in the mornings, generally always above 200. So we’re moving back to an evening dose of long-acting insulin. Just a small dose, so I don’t feel all that panicked. Not too worried about crashing – my sugars are fairly under control. I haven’t had a low-sugar event in a couple of months or so.

I go back in a couple of weeks for another follow-up. New lab tests in a month, right after Shannon gets here.

The YOR exercising? Going well. I’m doing the 5-days-a-week thing. And though I haven’t yet found something that trips my trigger, I’m still sticking with it.  This week, the Zumba class starts, and even though I’m told it will kick my ass, I’m going to try it. I figure if I can get in on the ground floor, maybe I have a shot. Then again, if it kicks my ass the very first class?

There’s other stuff I haven’t yet tried, but am already convinced it’ll be too hard. A Pilates/Yoga class. Belly dancing. Hatha yoga. So far, most of my activity at the Y is treadmill (still). I tried a stationery bike thing yesterday, and that was cool. May go with that one some more. If it weren’t for my iPod, I’d be bored out of my skull. I’m still bored, but at least I have tunes. And sometimes Adam Carolla’s podcast.

Tomorrow, I go to see Ben Folds in concert. Woo hoo! Never seen him live before, and I can’t wait. Tickets were a reasonable $34. Now, if I could just cough up $70 or so to see Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers (with Joe Cocker as an opener!), that’d rock even more.

Poppy recently wrote about filling up the self-worth tank. Good post, great idea, but no surprise, considering the source.

Soooooo, here’s the challenge: Fill up someone else’s self worth tank. Let’s say nice things about how awesome each other is so that we feel like our existence on this planet is not a waste of space, time, and energy. If you’re strong enough to say nice things about yourself, then do that too.

I’m gonna start today with the hardest part…saying nice things about ME. That shit gives me the heebie jeebies, but bear with me. I’m not well-versed at this stuff.

I’m smart. I mentioned this briefly in my 100 Things list, but my I.Q. only rarely manifests in obvious ways. Just because I’m smart doesn’t mean I don’t make plenty of bonehead moves. Oh, right…NICE things. See? Told you I’m not so great at this.

On occasion, my brilliance does shine. Case in point:

When I was a little kid, around 9 or so, my parents were both working. I had a babysitter, of course, who was a teenager and more interested in boys and cranking Queen records than keeping up with my sister and I.

My father had this amazing smutty magazine collection, which I’d recently been perusing whenever I had the chance. There were a handful of neighborhood kids over at my house and I told them I had something to show them.

We go into my parents’ bedroom and close the door. I slide open the closet door and point to the shelf up top. STACKS and STACKS of mags, each complete with naked women in lots of odd positions with naked men.

Ages of the kids ranged from 14 down to around 6 or 7. Johnny, the teen, pulled down a couple of stacks for us to look through. We all got on my folks’ bed and started paging through the mags.

Oh my God. GROSS! She has his thing in her mouth!

Why would anyone want a thing in their mouth?

Look at this! His thing is in HER thing!

She looks like she’s in a LOT of pain!

Do you think that’s what ALL policemen do with women?

Our burgeoning education of naked things came to a sudden halt, however, when I heard my father’s car pull up in front of the house.

“Oh no! It’s my DAD!”

And five boys started freaking the fuck out, gathering all the dirty magazines in a heartbeat. Most of them ran from my parents’ bedroom, not heeding my pleas for help to restore the bedroom to its proper working order.

My life was flashing before my eyes. I stacked the mags, and shoved them back up onto the closet shelf.

It was then that God decided to have me killed.

The shelf came toppling down inside the closet. And approximately 847,000 porn mags crashed to the floor, spilling everywhere.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaah!

I was dead meat. My father would be coming in at any moment. All my friends had run out the back door, retreating to leave me to my execution.

Then…a flash of brilliance. Little Karl saw what had to be done.

I shoved all the magazines back inside the confines of the closet, grabbed Midnight (my black cat), tossed her inside the closet, and closed the door. And I ran from the bedroom, just in time to greet my father at the front entryway. I was damn proud of that maneuver, proof that I could think fast on my feet and avoid certain death.

I finally admitted to my father that Midnight wasn’t the culprit…y’know, around 20 years later. Naturally, he and my stepmother both laughed and acknowledged what a smart move I’d made.

Perhaps I’m just a porn-savant, I don’t know. But either way, I’m smart.

I even understand why it’s not such a bad experience to have my thing in her mouth. And that the reason why she looks like she’s in such pain when my thing is in HER thing is because I forgot to pack my lubed shoehorn.

Photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/36498826@N02/ / CC BY-NC 2.0

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I’ve gained 7 pounds. Not sure why. I have been exercising. Isn’t that the point of moving, to LOSE weight? Or at least not gain any?

Sigh.

Waiting. I hate it. Yesterday, I waited with Mom at the doctor’s. Almost an hour. With weak Edge, at best.

Visit went well. Mom is now officially without both her leg brace and the thumb brace. We should hear from PT this week to schedule her therapy. You couldn’t pay me to be in that room when they start working her knee. I’m not ready to hear my Mom talk like Hilly.

Fucking cocksnuggling sonofaWHORE! Touch that knee again and I’ll rip off your head and shit down your neck, you festering pool of donkey piss!

Today, we went to Social Security to ask a few questions. They have a brilliant system. If you go into Social Security at, say, 15 years old…then, by the time you get to the window, you’re probably eligible for Medicare.

They also tell you to turn your cell phone off before entering. Whatever. Listen, I’m barely convinced that my cell phone is a threat on a plane 33,000 feet in the air. I’m certainly not shutting it off in the Social Security office. I did, however, mute it.

What? I’ve got to get my Moxie on.

Patience. I don’t have much of it. I quit asking God to give me patience, because it inevitably means He provides me a shitton of situations in which I HAVE to be patient. Screw that. I don’t have the patience to gain patience legitimately.

I don’t like waiting, especially when the ball is totally not in my court. I chomp at the bit, grasping at something to do while I sit around and do, well, nothing. Waiting on YOU. Ugh.

Waiting on friends. Waiting on doctors. Waiting on the assclown in front of me in the checkout line at the grocery store to pay with all coins. Waiting on my meds in the mail. Waiting on 2HT to be finished. Waiting on April to get here so I can see Shannon. Hate it all.

SecondHand Radio Returns

One thing I have been waiting for is SecondHand Radio to return. It’s been months since Mom broke her kneecap. I tried one show after that and it didn’t go over well. I needed a break while Mom healed from her break. Well, she’s walking around now – slowly, but steadily – without a splint, so that’s good.

Thursday at 10pm Eastern, 2HRadio comes back. My guest is the lovely Maria, aka Mommy Melee.

Please mark your calendars, tell your friends. We’re back. I’m returning to one show a week, though. Thursday nights. Twice a week was too much.

Live chatroom to play in while the show is on. You’re all welcome to call in and talk to Maria, say hi, ask questions, whatever. Go to the SecondHand Radio page and get all the info.

Looking forward to it. I’ve missed my show. Thankfully, the waiting for that is nearly over.

I haven’t lined up any other guests. If you know of someone you’d like to hear as a guest, let me know. Even if it’s you.

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