Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Merry Christmas (bits and pieces)


Merry Christmas
or
Bits and Pieces

By jade rogue

Bits:
The greeting cards have all been sent and we have received a few from friends and family. The Christmas rush is almost done, but several days are still left to get that last gift for that one loved one, that seemed to had gotten past your thoughts.

I want a Christmas hug. They’re best when you’re in it. Come into my arms, don’t wait another minute. Underneath the mistletoe, kiss me forever and a day. Love isn’t just for Christmas day. Come into my arms, close enough to see the lights of the Christmas tree in your eyes, in my arms, stay. After everything has gone by, it’ll still be you and I. It’ll still be you and I walking side by side,. I’ll still be me sleeping by your side.

***

Pieces:

I nibbled the kiss between the shoulder blades. She stirred and backed up against my naked body. Her firm butt ground against my thighs, I snaked my hand to the flat of her stomach and I pulled her in tighter. My hand went from the valley of her waist to the gentle swell of her hips. I kissed her behind the ear and nibbled on her ear, beckoning a sensory reaction of my liking. Her breathing was light and wispy giving way to a deep awakening yawn. She stretched like a cat and seemed to purr slightly. Turning her body, she faced me. Her knee went over my hip and she pressed herself against me as she kissed my chin lazily.

“I want you baby, but I’m hungry. Feed me and then fuck me again and again.” She waited for my reply. “It turns you on thinking you domesticated me, huh?” "No, you’re not entirely domesticated. You’re still a little wild. But I like that.” I laughed as my stomach growled in protest. I slid off the bed and she smacked me on the ass playfully and laughed. I put my Japanese robe on with a smile. I love it when she is playful like this.

In my robe I carried the scent of my lover. She was in my fingers, my face, thighs and belly. The phone in my hand, I called room service for coffee and breakfast, enough to feed five grown men. I then looked out the window, the colors of the sunrise spread across the sky bright and beautiful as it does more so on winter days. The sound of a dog barking brought me back to this day.

I’m happy but I dare not say it loud, for fear something, someone would take it from me.

I walked back into the bed room and she waits there, on her stomach, her head on the pillow as she purred. She smiled and voiced. “I’m happy baby…are you happy?” I walked towards her , let the rob fall from my shoulders… "Yes darling, I’m very happy.”

Merry Christmas to all of you. My favorite Canadian singer. She sings the American National Anthem better than any American.




Thursday, December 17, 2009

A Spiky Christmas Story ( Part 2)

A Spiky Christmas Story
Or
Sharon's Christmas Folly
By jade rogue

The cars and the vans pulled out of the elementary school and I leaned into my brother. My eyes watered thinking of what Sharon said about all of us. The anger in me grew and they watered more. My nose began to run and I sniffled. My brother knew me well. He pulled out a Kleenex out of his pocket and I used it to wipe my eyes and blow my nose. I stayed leaning into him. I said my brother knew me well. It’s true. He knew I was angry and I was hurt. Things didn’t seem to bother my brother for some reason. It was always me that went on a tangent, ready to slay the dragons.

“Don’t be mad. Don’t listen to her. I’m sure you’ll get her on Monday. Okay?” I nodded and it eased my anger a little. I thought of how I was going to make her pay and for especially pointing at me, when she said “the poor kids.” I never thought of us as poor. Our family was better off then most in the neighborhood.

We had arrived at our destination and we all got out and entered the restaurant. We were seated and in looking around…I smiled. This place was decorated all Christmasy and there was a Christmas tree with lots of presents under it. It was beautiful. We sat at tables and the waitresses and waiters went around asking us what we wanted to eat. I picked a big cheeseburger with French fries and a Dr. Pepper to drink. I still remember the lady that waited on our table. She called me sweet pea, Like what you want to drink, sweet pea? I liked it. It made me feel like I was family. I was used to endearments as it was common at our home.

I ate all of it and I was so full. We had laughed and talked with our school mates and the waiters and waitresses. I was out of my shell and having the time of my life and Santa was going to show up. They promised. I wasn’t quite sure if I deserved a toy. I was as good as I could possibly be but sometimes I wasn’t. Not like I looked for trouble…it kind of found me, somehow, someway. This was around the time when my nefarious reputation began. My Monday meeting with Sharon would cement my reputation as someone who was willing to fight at the drop of a hat.
****
The waitress saw my plate and asked if I wanted to order another cheeseburger. I shook my head…No. I was excited and wanted to see Santa. And there he was, he entered from the kitchen and he was beautiful and bright with red clothes and black boots and a beard and he laughed Ho Ho Ho…as often as he could. Now I knew there was no REAL Santa but I was caught in the moment and went with it with all of my heart. I wanted to believe and I guess I did right then and there. We all went to where he sat and handed out gifts. That waitress that waited on my table handed the gifts to him. She winked at me. I took a liking to her and her warm smile.

I was there standing in front of Santa…he was so big, so tall. He asked me my name and I told him. He said. “You’ve been a good girl all year.” I nodded. “Here you go darling, Merry Christmas. " And he handed me my gift. I opened it at my table. It was a doll. It was my first Barbie doll. I held her to me like she was gold. I felt so good I was thinking about letting Sharon off the hook. Maybe just turn my cheek. But you know how it is with children, thoughts change like nature. By Monday I was back to wanting to beat her up.

We all got back in the cars and vans. We had had a wonderful time. I told everyone thank you and Merry Christmas. I was as happy as only a child can get when the spirit of Christmas is in them.

To be continued on Friday or Sunday.
*******
We had a Christmas lunch today. Things went wonderfully. The food was awesome and the people are the best of the best. I love them for who they are but I’m also proud to be with them on the holidays. My friend Lynn has the best heart. She keeps Christmas all year long. She gives and she gives…I love spending time with her. We’ve written together several little stories. She has a wit that infects mine and soon it’s like we are rolling on the story non stop.

I had blood drawn today and tomorrow I have a dentist appointment…again. She’s good and wants to see how I am after the extractions. Personally I think she just wants to look down my blouse. Hehehe
*******
We had our Christmas dinner last Saturday but wasn’t near as fun as steph’s Christmas party.. Hehehe. My girl was with me and she had a blast. They ran out of food and had to cook more. The drinks were okay, the usual stuff. We had the usual drunks get up and dance on the floor. I swear, I have not ever seen HER before she was dancing by our table...she didn’t have on any panties on. No...Not even a thong and her skirt was too short for her. Yeah, she showed us all her ass and muffin. Not a pretty sight I might add. And I’ve seen many. I mean some gals need to trim their beasts a tad.

It’s okay to dance with other girls, even in the States. It’s not like it’s exclusive only to the French. The French can do anything. Two women in Paris can hold hands and kiss and it's okay. The world always forgives the French no matter how odd it may seem.

Anyway, Miss Mexico asked me to dance several times. She was a little bit snookered and said she likes how I move and dance. I'm a dancer...(she didn't know I entertain. I don’t know why they call her Miss Mexico, but I think it’s because she is a knock out (true) and Mexican American, another truth. I spoke with her in Spanish, She was surprised, and asked how I knew Spanish. I don’t think she could tell I had Mexican blood. I hadn’t spoken to her much before other than work issues, but now were good pals. After she spent time us and with me, she asked me a question. She was a little tipsy, but serious.

“Why are people afraid of you?”

I smiled and said…"everyone thinks I’m the BIG guy’s girlfriend.” I winked. She laughed and said I was funny.
*********
Later sweeties. Have a fabulous weekend. In Australia it's starts lots sooner. enjoy sweeties.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Questions, Answers and More


Questions, Answers and More
by jade rogue

I swiped this from a blog I've began to stalk. I think she rocks. I haven't commented but I'm sure I'll lose my shyness soon. I kind of expand in the questions and maybe add more information but what the hell....that's me, going beyond what is asked or needed.

1. Have you ever mooned/flashed anyone? How long ago?

I don’t know anyone that hasn’t mooned someone at some time or another. I last mooned my girl a couple weeks ago on a Saturday morning. She was in that back patio cleaning things up. I woke and she was not in bed. She always gets up before me so I thought she might be in the television room. She wasn’t but I spied her in the back patio. I smiled, lifted my large t-shirt as I backed up onto the glass door, I don’t wear panties when I sleep…maybe sometimes I wear boxers but not this time. I tapped on the glass door and chuckled.

She came in laughing and said she had a perfect view of my ass and muffin. Oh my. I turned crimson thinking of what view she must have had.

In college we always flashed our boobs when we drove by UCLA Medical Center area
.


2. Pick an animal that best displays your personality.
A cat best describes me. I can be quite the huntress. I can be cunning if needed. I scratch and bite (not hard) when I’m cornered. But mostly I just want to be a lazy orange house cat lying on a divan, purring.

3. Do you mail out holiday cards, and if so, how do you pick the list?Yes…No. I do kind of. I’m lazy and don’t have the time like my girl has. We buy them together but my girl fills them out and we both sign them. My boys also sign them…even the two year old

4. How often do you wear something sexy to get attention (lingerie, low cut dress, silk boxers, etc...)?
When I’m in trouble with her which is quite often, I think it spices our love affair. I have this outfit I got from VS that I’m using these days. She loves me to strip for her…slowly. She will get a little huffy if I strip too quickly. She likes it nice and slow and with music, yeah, she pretty much pervs on me, lucky me, huh?

I have to tell you this. I went to the dentist yesterday to take my wisdom teeth out. I have to admit my dentist is pretty damn good. I didn’t feel a thing except some tugging. It was afterwards that I felt it. I jumped in my car after wards and drove across the parking lot to where my girl works to get my prescription filled.

I walked in with a mouthful of gauze and…Hello, there she was. Damn she looks hot in a smock or whatever they call them. I mean…hot, hot, and hot. She looked like a doctor.

Like in Dr. Howard, Dr, Howard, Dr. Fine…

If my jaw wasn’t hurting and I was unable to speak, I would have asked her to go with me to her SUV (thank god for tinted windows) and there I’d have my way with her…or vice versa. Either way, eating muffin was involved. I mean it’s not like we haven’t fucked in that parking lot before.

5. Have you ever tasted breast milk SINCE you were an adult?
No, yes…kind of. My girl had some on her lips when she kissed me. I did breast feed with my oldest boy for a while.


*Bonus: Do you like "talking" when you have sex?
Ha…yeah, sometimes. Sometimes I’m talking dirty. Guys really get off on it. Anyway in my first year in college, I and my then boyfriend (flavor of the month) were fucking. I was talking, my legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded me. I was talking about something funny at the restaurant. When he said…WILL YOU SHUT UP and FUCK!

What! I pushed him off and threw on a T-shirt and I told him to fuck off. He apologized but I didn’t listen. I mean really, all he had to do was stop and listen. He would have gotten a laugh and he would have been fucked good and proper in due time, because a happy Spiky…knows how to make her man happy too.

Double Bonus: If Santa is a guy, how is it that he never seems to get lost?

I have the answer. All the reindeer are female. This is true. All of Santa’s reindeer have antlers and everyone knows that in winter, male reindeer lose their antlers…only the females have antlers. And females aren’t afraid to ask for directions when they are lost while males are.

*****
I'll finish the Spiky Christmas story on Thursday. I've not had many comments on the story so I was thinking of not posting the final part but A few have said they wanted to read the second part...so I will.

I've been busy with shopping, shows, charities, work and raising two boys and trying to keep my girl in love with me. She felt sorry for me yesterday as I lay there like a slug on the bed...hurting from the dentist extractions with an occasional..." THAT BITCH...hurt me, baby." Yeah I was fishing for attention. hehehe. I healed quickly. She gathered me into her arms...kissed me on the forehead and said. "Poor baby."

Ha.

Ciao Sweeties. .. do you know who Dr. Howard, Dr. Howard, Dr. Fine are? Guess it and an ass (arse) pic is on the next post. : )

You guys should know this...
Have I ever told you my John Meloncamp story? Um, did you know he was a painter, an artist? Twuuuuuuu. Maybe some other time.


Friday, December 11, 2009

A Spiky Christmas Story or Sharon's Folly


A Spiky Christmas Story
or
Sharon's Folly
By jade rogue

Ok, I’ve been nonsensical and I know I’ve been in a mood. And to ease on my things to do list. I checked my schedule and decided to take one item off the things to do list. That will give me time to kick back and relax on the couch like a lazy orange house cat.


I’ll be out and in the madness of Christmas shopping. I have a few more presents to get. I’d get a few for my friends in the blog-world if they sent me there addresses. Um, not really! I’ll give that money I would have spent on you on Toys for Tots and the poor and needy families that are out there. Do you know how many people are out there that need a little bit of holiday cheer and love?

I’ve had many that come to me with their hands out. It’s something I do with a few organizations. My friend 'L' has taken the point on this. He'll give it all away for me. I can’t do it anymore. I can't be there when other come after all we had has been given away. The disappointed look on their faces,crush me. I give till there is no money left and all the goods gone. And I sit there feeling bad and sad that I can't help another family...and there is always another family in need.

It feels wonderful to give then the sadness sets in because we can’t give anymore. There’s another family I can't give to…then another. Christ when does this stop. Children should have to go through this. I’ve given my bonus check away as we here at work do every year. All I have left to give is just a Christmas hug, a Christmas smile, a Christmas wish and love…

I’ve come to one conclusion. It’s clear to me that most things that concern me are still a…mystery, I’m afraid that will always be perennial. How can that be, I’m an open door? I’m an open book for you to read…

Don’t go running off to safety. Even if I was insane, I’m over here and you're over there
.
****************
Here’s a true Christmas story.

A Spiky Christmas Story

or
Sharon's Folly
By jade rogue

I was in the first grade in grammar school. It was a hard year for us. In that winter, I seemed to always be cold. We didn’t have a thanksgiving dinner as most families did. It was just a normal dinner. I am from a big family and father was drunk or gone quite often. I remember as a little girl, mother saying where is your father. I ventured outside and saw the car in the driveway. I notices that he was under the car…he was crying and he was drunk. I wondered why he cried and I felt sorry for him.


He had a big family to support but he was not succeeding in doing that. It takes a lot of money to support a big family of twelve. Father had a drinking problem. Mother did as best she could for us. I knew then that mother was hopelessly in love with father. He was a handsome tall man with a slim mustache. My eldest brother brought him into the house and he slept it off.

Christmas was near. One day towards the end of the school day. My teacher sent me to the office. She said I hadn’t done anything wrong so don’t be afraid. There were several cars and vans there to take us few kids somewhere. My parents weren’t there and panic kind of rose in me. I didn’t want to go but I saw my brother was there. I ran to him and took his hand in mine. He told me to stop it and pulled his hand away. BOYS! He was a year older than me but I was as tall as him. We were told that we, all of us that were pulled out of our classes were going to a Christmas party and Santa was going to be there. I couldn’t believe it and they picked me and my brother to be there. I couldn’t believe our luck. We were all smiles…all of us. We all added up to about 30 kids.

As we were piled into the vehicles Sharon walked up and laughed at us. She was in my class. She had pretty clothes and always had new shoes. She stood there with her hands on her hips and told the others that came out during recess that we (she pointed at us) were going to a Christmas party and that Christmas party is for the poor kids. They then laughed at us.

I looked down at my shoes and thought about what I was going to do to Sharon and her friend come Monday morning when school starts back up. Sharon was a lot taller but I was tougher, she just didn’t know it yet. She was loud and mean and she bullied the other white kids. She thought I was white and knew nothing of my heritage. I wasn’t afraid of another kid because of their color.

To be continued in…A Spiky Christmas Story 2.

Tell me what’s on your mind sweeties. Here’s this post’s Christmas song.

Wednesday, December 09, 2009

Feeling Yourself Disintegrating

Feeling Yourself Disintegrating
Or
This Girl’s In Love

By jade rogue

I slept deeply, uneasy and when I woke with the dim morning light. It was like the dimming light of a late winter afternoon than the early light of dawn, that light of day that unravels the gossamer that clouded my mind in the early hours of morning. And at that very moment, I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry like I have never cried before. I wanted to cry as if every forgotten sad moment in my life was gathered and shoved into my heart. A cry that would make the pain of mother’s death seem almost impassive. I wanted to empty my heart, rid it of all that made me sad and teary eyed. I’ve cried lately for the littlest of things. And I don’t know why. I tell myself to harden the fuck up but I guess that’s not me. To be totally hard I have to be mad as hell. And when I am mad as hell I’m ready to fight. The problem was I didn’t know what was making me sad.

I am what I am, because of my life experiences and all that I have studied. And all that makes me afraid and all that makes me brave and bold. I’m good at what I do. I’m the best at it. They only need to tell me what it is they want. I can make it happen.

Have you ever dreamt or being something…or someone else? I’m tired of the research, theories and equations. In my head I can see my feet step per step, the movement of my hips, hands and body…the expression of my face. I sing the words to a song in my head as I work. Waking today was like my face hit the water of a cold stream. Darlings, have you ever awakened with that feeling like me, feeling yourself disintegrating?

There’s more out there for me. And I want to take hold of it with both hands. I don’t want to be more phlegmatic and less sanguine. I want to write. I know this but then that other side of me wonders if that will be enough to placate the constant yearning in me. Would the cloying sweetness of having everything come easily be like decadent nymphs that fulfill my every want and leave nothing left? Where would the challenge be? Where would I get the satisfaction that I have done well with my skills. Would easy be too much for me? I’m not used to easy. Everything of importance has always been hard. Every once in a while though when it is easy, those times make me smile. When I open up and let my mind go and the muses whisper to me, I smile. These are times that come and go but when they do, I smile with satisfaction. These are the times when life tells me I am alive.

I’m not going to hate myself for what I’m not. I’m not going to hate myself for what I am. It’s time I close the wounds of my past and open my eyes and see what is in front of me…today and the future.

I’ll start by wearing that diaphanous sexy outfit I bought last week to sleep in but I seriously don’t think I be wearing it while I sleep. I know her wants, she will have me strip slowly for her. She will settle in the bedroom sofa chair, cross her leg over the other and she will say. "Take it off. take it off slowly." And I will. I’ll wear it this Saturday for her. I want her to know I love her and I appreciate those easy days she gives me with just her smile. I want her to know this girl is in love with her.

Jane Monheit sings my feelings…ciao babes.
And a holiday Christmas song...

Monday, December 07, 2009

Cause I'm A Lazy Biotch

Cause I'm a Lazy Biotch
Or
Drinking tea with milk and janjaweed.
By jade rogue

Parts of this post is from a comment I left at another blog. Yeah cause I'm a lazy biotch I copied and pasted and added. It's fucking Monday. I'm super busy on Mondays and don't usually have time to post but today I'm in the mood to fuck off. I know I'm cursing like a sailor, but I don't care. lets get with the show.

Poor little Nick Hogan isn't so tough. He’s not like his papa. Take his Daddy’s money and fake celebrity status away and he'll be way too busy trying to keep a roof over his head and the refrigerator stocked. And he won't have time to FUCK OFF!

Yep, he’s been in another accident, but I don’t care for the details. I didn’t really read anything on it. I read it at another blog and it’s private so I won’t mention it.

You’re asking, then why mention it Spiky?

Um, I don’t know. I just thought that guy is going to eventually go back to prison because he’s a spoiled brat. Prison, home sweet home, what’s not to like in prison? You get tossed salads and sex anytime you want. Um, and don’t want. And the tattoos there are free, mostly.

I don't feel sorry for those that have had everything given to them then they throw it all away. Maybe because I didn’t have things handed to me. I had to go out and get it myself.

I have to confess that I have had a few advantages that others never had. I was born in Monte Carlo as my mother was. I was educated at the Sorbonne’s illustrious L’Academie De Bourgeoisie Merde. Personally, I didn’t learn shit there.


Well enough about me. Let’s get back to Nick Hogan. He’s a celebrity…for what I ask you? It’s for being in a reality show. And you and I know there is no such thing as a true reality shows…not really. Unless…unless it’s ‘BIG BROTHER.’ That shit is real as the moon in the sky.

I blame the Hulkster for his son’s troubles. He should’ve known that reality shows fuck up a person and families. Just ask Ozzie and Bobby Brown.
Have I ever told you my Ozzie story? Yep I was at his place in Beverly Hills and no I wasn’t on a Hollywood tour thingy. It looks like a small house really if you look at it in Beverly Hills standards. Ozzie’s house wasn’t far from Paris Hilton’s place.

Hi Paris, honey. If you’re reading me…call me, same cell number.
So I guess this post is about ‘reality shows.’ I don't believe reality shows are reality...I mean really, a guy with a big camera in your face really makes you feel and act as if it’s not there, if they say yes. I say…LIAR!

Life is fucking boring...well, unless you hang out with me...then its fun as fuck. I say, keep the camera out of the kitchen and living room and BACK into the bedroom.
*******
On the home front: We sang Christmas carols, we performed at another Christmas tree lighting event. That one was nice because they had hot coa-coa drinks, cookies and pastries. I swiped an oatmeal and raisin cookie to eat. But keep it on the down low or is that low down?

I’m not allowed to have them, you know. Anyway, stolen cookies taste the best
.
******
I wish I was drinking tea with milk and janjaweed. Talking with you of what we lose and win. And what you would recommend.

Time to take the stage...later sweeties.

I love this Christmas song. It's the rebel, the rogue in me that loves it.
And who doesn't love Barenaked Ladies.


Friday, December 04, 2009

Best Straight Friend

Best Straight Friend
or
Rebels, Rule Breakers
By jade rogue

I knew a girl, her name was Loraine. We were best of friends. I knew her from my grammar school days. As teens we even worked in the restaurant together as waitresses. We knew each other a long time. She played the piano, her mother taught her.


Loraine thought she was fat. She was not, but still she always seemed to be on some sort of diet.

Loraine would play the piano as we sang songs in school, work or her home. We had aspirations. We had young teen girl imagination with maybe a little bit of an attitude to spice it up even more. We reveled in the fact that we were rebels, rule breakers.

She laughed when I would get silly and get in my best bard stance, left foot in front of the right. My left hand in front of my waist up as the fingers of my other hand locked together. She would bark at me. “Spiky, be serious. And don’t think you’re going to make me laugh when we perform this time.”

“I am serious…see.” I turned to her cross-eyed as I bounced up to the tips of my toes…ouch, like a ballerina. “Stop it. We need to practice.” “Okay…okay.” I would hold my serious face as she inspected me. I would then twitch my nose as I kept my smile in stealth. Hence that was what caused the twitch. She could not hold back. The doors of laughter would always open. And she would giggle like crazy though trying her hardest not to.

“Quit goofing off…I’m ready.” I said as I kept my serious face.

“Stop being so serious Spiky. You’re right; I like you better when you’re not so serious. It's more fun.” A mischievous smile slowly replaced my serious face till it was wide and thin.

“Really?” I brightened up.

“Yes. I don’t know why I try to civilize you. You’ll always be a goof.” Before I could debate that last statement she started playing the first notes to a Christmas song. "Jazz it up Spiky." I jumped in…

"Old Mr. Kringle is soon gonna jingle the bells that'll tingle all your troubles away

Everybody's waiting for the man with the bag' cause Christmas is coming again

He's got a sleigh full, it's not gonna stay full stuff that he's droppin' every stop of the way


Everybody's waiting for the man with the bag' cause Christmas is coming again…"
*****
This one time at Loraine’s apartment on a sleep-over she stood in her panties and bra, her hands on her hips, in front of the full length mirror. She would only see what she thought was wrong with her. I stood along side her as she continued pointing out each item she considered a flaw.

I took one step closer to the mirror and started pointing out all of what was perfect about her. “There were so many. You’re beautiful Loraine. And I’m lucky to have you as my best friend.” I walked back to her. She said meekly. Only you see them.”


I put my hands on her shoulders as I faced her. I then put my hands on my hips. “Oh you are a kooky girl.” I winked. “But I like that about you.” She began to say something but I put two fingers on her lips. “Hush.” I paused for effect, something I saw in the movies. I whispered, my words just loud enough for her to hear. “Don’t say a word…you just listen.” Again, I pause for that serious effect I was looking to capture. “

"Don’t you see all the guys at school volley for position? Each one with aspirations to be the one who’s own image is reflected back to them from your eyes. Do you know the power of your smile? You’re beautiful Loraine, inside and out.”

“And you have a nice ass too…” I smiled hoping to get a smile out of her.

It worked and she smiled.

“So you love me, huh Spiky?” She then hugged me. “Yes…you’re my best straight friend.”

GIRLS…you gotta love em.

Readers, sweetie babes, I swear sometimes girls make me want to go FULLY straight…um, sometimes.

NAH!

What Loraine played on the piano and I sang. ..sing with me babes.