I will miss this couch.


It's time to say farewell to a beloved friend and a piece of my personal history.

My good ol' brown chesterfield.

See, I met me a nice ladyfriend, and we've decided that ol' Brownie no longer suits our needs. It's a bachelor couch, and I'm no longer a bachelor. This is not to say men only, oh no. It's just that this couch has treated my friends and me well for many years, and I'd prefer to see it go to some nice folks who will enjoy it...four reasonably-sized asses can sit comfortably on it while playing video games, watching DVDs, drinkin' beers...it's a great couch that brought a lot of joy to those asses, and it's got a lot more ass-joy in it yet.

To all the CL newbies:


OK, admit it. You're addicted to the fucking thing. You stay up until three in the morning reading R&R, hitting the reload or refresh key until you can't keep your eyes open. Of course you check out CE because, hey, who can help it? You check out MC because you think that person who smiled at you at the whatever store might post. You peruse Misc Romance because you figure it's the same thing as CE. You look through Stictly Platonic because even that could lead to getting laid or blown or eaten out or whatever your into. You go through every goddamn fucking posting in every catagory, hit refresh and start all over again. You've seen the same 22 year old guy in Boulder or wherever, and his penis, every night since you got on here. The same 19 year old "virgin" who wants to (insert boner or wetness inducing act here) has posted regularly. You know what a troll is. You know what a flamer is. You know that looser means loser, and that people can't spell or use proper grammar and the voices of reason have as much a chance as being heard, as a wet match has illuminating a dark cave. You wish that you could convey your voice inflection, (like that would make a difference) and you realize that because you can't HEAR voice inflection in a CL post, lots of them sound like....like.....legible dementia. You realize there are alot of fucked-up, pathetic, self-righteous, horny, smart-assed, angry, (ad infinitum) people out there. You like Flash Friday and all the other excuses to post naked pictures, you think you can post something that won't get flamed (it will) and you have spent hours thinking about what you would put on your m4w or w4m (and every variation thereof) to make it "different." You visited other boards. You thought you would see lots of tits or cocks in the big cities, you were entirely disappointed in the LA board and can't figure out WHAT the fuck is going on with the NYC board. You visited Witchita, Wyoming and West Virginia and found crickets chirping, sheep baaaing and mines caving in and exploding. You have found hand-wringing, arm-twisting, name-dropping, teeth-gnashing, and bigger piles of horseshit than you ever imagined. You wondered aloud why would they bother having a board in so many backwater places. You probably even looked at the international boards. You figured out what an OP was, in ten minutes and were proud of yourself. Why? Who? What the? and How? are ringing in your head. You have your favorite posters (Cheesypoofs, I love her) and your least favorite posters. You have tried to make a "name" for yourself (no one gives a shit) and you were pretty happy about that one post that started a thread that lasted three days. (who woulda thought?) "How grand the CL paradox!!!", you say to yourself. It's all too much to contemplate. All the posting titles have gone from blue to that wierd shade of brownish-purple, and even you can't stomach another "sex survey" or cock/pussy pic. You know that refresh, reload or (if you have an Apple) the sharp right-hand turn icon won't bring anything new or worth looking at. What to do????

Missed Connection with My Life


I missed the connection with the life I wanted and ended up, due to my own choosing, with a life I don’t recognize. I made bad choices and bad decisions and there’s no one to blame but myself. Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we make a decision, realize it’s a mistake then box ourselves in with no good way out? I am half in love and half in hate. From what I read here and in the CE area, there are a lot of other people just like me. Even though my husband can be a jerk, insensitive, and inattentive, he still does not deserve for me to cheat on him. He’s not a mean or cruel person. No one can do anything to “earn” being cheated on, regardless. I cannot rationalize myself into thinking, “if he can’t or won’t give me what I want, no matter how often I tell him of my needs, then I will find it where I can.”

RAVE: My cheating husband!!!


Ok, so I just found out that you've been writing about 25 emails a day to one of your female colleagues, all signed with the words "with bated breath". GREAT! You seem to have decided that bisexual vegetarians with questionable hair choices are more up your alley. WONDERFUL! Oh, did you say that she cares about your academic career, unlike me, who is always at work? Great! I'm such a bitch, aren't I, me with all of my work and bill paying. I'm glad that someone has the time to listen to you talk about postmodernism. That really takes a lot off my back. Actually, upon close inspection, it seems like this whole thing is taking a lot off my back. For example...

ashlee, the medical assistant who took my stool samples - m4w


You are very cute - love that teeny little nose piercing - but the circumstances of our meeting were admittedly a bit awkward. I was beyond sick, so sick the doctor was giving me cipro, and I had to drop off stool samples to you. I am sure those samples revealed a man of strong body, fighting off the fiercest intestinal parasites. I know, I know, when travelling abroad, DO NOT DRINK THE WATER! I get it now.



You know what sucks? Cancer. I hate it.

See, while technically 'cancer free' for the past several months, I still feel the effects of $236,000 in treatment. I'm only 29, but I get out of breath so easily, exercise is so tough. It's a pure hell to me.

I mean all I had was Non-hodgkins lymphoma. That's the Cancer you want to pick if someone says "You have to get cancer, now pick one". 8 months of having toxic chemicals pumped through my veins... A catheter in my heart... A scar and 3 tattoos to remind me about what I went to, though I can't ever forget.

Rant: Grocery Girl


Let's establish one thing first: I love my job as a cashier/bag girl in a grocery store. I like it even though I'm paid minimum wage with no hope of a raise (I have co-workers who've worked there for two years with no raise.), and I like it despite the fact that it's just some unskilled labor to support me until I graduate from college. I come to work with a smile on my face. If you've been there once, I remember you and try to tailor my interaction with you to your personal preferences. I'm kind, patient, and have a good sense of humor. So do most of you, which is the reason why I love my job.