Is A Happy Vagina Important?

Welcome once again to a selection provided by a supporting member of The Scorpion Army. Anna R. from Rapid City South Dakota knows I like reading about health, psychology, and human behavior in my quest to better understand the human animal. The article she provides explores intimacy and how a happiness of the vagina can be the line in the sand drawn by the human female brain. Many people have explored the human female brain to find the secrets of life and have failed miserably. But maybe this is the answer, maybe her happy vagina is the key to everything we want to know, I’m just saying. Personal secret, remember to eat it every day!

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Original story………….

We all know that getting in the mood for sex is highly psychological. We realize you need to be turned on by your man before getting under the covers. We know the importance of feeling sexy and comfortable being naked with him. But here’s something that rarely gets mentioned: Is your vagina happy, healthy and ready for amazing sex?

Your vagina’s happiness plays a key role during lovemaking. It speaks to your brain about how it’s feeling and whether it wants to have sex. If your vagina is itchy, dry, discharging, or odorous, it will signal you to avoid your man’s fingers, nose, penis or tongue. Here are some tips for making your vagina healthy, happy, and yearning for your man’s touch.

Be your vagina detective. Using a mirror, check out your vagina by spreading the labia and observing what it looks like. Is there any discharge? Does it itch? Put a finger inside and get a sample of the mucous. What does it smell and taste like? Yes, you should taste your vaginal secretions. Does it taste acidic? What does the substance on your finger smell like? Does it smell like a fish? If you want your partner to give you oral pleasure, you should know your own flavor and scent. A neutral smelling and tasting vagina is a happy vagina.

Make sure your vagina is clean before having any type of sexual encounter. It can be part of your nightly routine along with brushing your teeth. You don’t need to use perfumes or douches, but you will feel more comfortable if you wash your vagina with a little mild soap and water prior to having sex. A clean vagina is a happy vagina.

The foods you ingest will change the taste and smell of your vaginal fluids. There are studies that say certain foods such as pineapples or cucumbers will make your vagina taste better. Green leafy vegetables help to neutralize an acidic taste that comes from dairy, alcohol, or meat. Eat some kale and spinach with your red wine at dinner to balance the flora in your vagina. A well-nourished vagina is a happy vagina.

So is your vagina happy and sending “all systems go” signals to your brain? Is it clean, free of odor, and neutral tasting? No matter how long you’ve known your partner, he deserves to have a pleasant experience when performing oral sex. Your relaxation and confidence when he’s tasting and smelling you is key to your reaching an orgasm. Knowing that your vagina is happy and healthy will definitely make you comfortable with your man and ready for amazing sex!

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Re-defining Defined Lines In Life

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There are times that I can see the road ahead of me clearly. There are time that same road seems to disappear. Its not the road to success nor is it the road to happiness, just a road I follow for the course of my life. I try not to take detours or go off roading but there are times that the obstacles won’t budge, so I have to go around. I could let the obstacles define me but I don’t, I just find a way around. Sometimes these detours take a considerable amount of time and when that becomes the case I try very hard to get back to my known road, my course, because one day I will find my destination. Hopefully death isn’t the destination, but then again life is the journey and all journeys must end eventually I would guess.

I find myself needing to re-define the important things in life from time to time. This ranges from how to budget better to be better at having the bills on time, to not wanting to be that person who has no money left in the banking account three days before the next pay-day. Patience isn’t exactly my strongest personality trait so, at times, I tend to get frustrated with the speed others move. I was off work for a long time in my opinion, eight and a half months is most of year in my eyes. During which I had to creatively disperse funds from our savings to live day to day. One day that too had yielded its last bit of money. We all know what happens when you stop paying bills right? The collection offices start calling, demanding payments, and accepting no alternate arrangements. It is hard to satisfy the needs to many when I was more worried about where the money was coming from to buy ramen noodles that week. It put allot of stress on the relationship of my wife and I as well. Looking back, I remember conversations we had, where I may not have had the answer she was looking for. As she remained working I often felt guilty when she would call me to inform me that a bill collector had called her at work and what am I going to do about it because this madness has to stop. Agreed, it has to stop. In the beginning, when I was first laid off, we already had a plan in motion to have my knee operated on once again because it had deteriorated so badly. While I was working I had great health coverage and we decided to pull the trigger to get the ball rolling. I had my evaluations done and I was set, I had my appointment date set and everything. I had over 140 hours of vacation and my employer was willing to let me be off for a minimum of two weeks for recovery. Then, one morning I went into work and was blindsided, I just got laid off. Well, fuck everything I knew for the last 5 1/2 years because that went straight down the ol’ toilet. Plans for knee surgery in three weeks just flew out the fucking window, to say the very least because those plans just ended.

To say this new development put a wrench in the fan is an understatement from hell. Immediately many things had too change. We had already led a rather meager life in my opinion. We didn’t eat out, ever, we didn’t really have any bills except for 2 loans, our cell phones, and of course utilities. Now, we didn’t live a bare bones life, but I made sure that I was putting money back for a rainy day, a vacation, knee surgery, graduation, college, or whatever. I made things tight, nobody saw the money I was socking away so nobody missed the money I was socking away. Little did I know that the balance I was seeing over time was an optical illusion. It was not nearly enough money to even just scrape by, which we were used to, but scraping this way was more of a challenge. I forecasted that we would be good for at least 18 months of regular living, living like we had been living with our expenses we already had. I was way off. I made a very simple, yet important mistake, I didn’t take into account some major expenses like paying the additional monthly money to have the health/dental/vision insurance switched to my wife’s company coverage and their rates were quadruple what I was paying. Then there was prescription costs, not just the co-pays, but paying full price on them until my wife’s insurance kicked in, for my son alone it was over $1500.00 a month. I didn’t include the expense of feeding five adults each week, gas for vehicles, nor my wife and my smoking habit. All of that eats money and it eats that shit fast. When my current job started our checking account was operating on fumes, it had been for two months already. One can only make so many trips to the pawn shop for a quick loan, especially when I knew I would not be returning to get them out of hock.

But, here we sit just shy of two months of my new job and I am still trying to beat off bill collectors with a stick because we have been playing catch the fuck up since my first check. Now lets toss Christmas into the mix. To say it will be meager would not do it justice. By having older kids, I think they understand, they may not like it, but they haven’t given us any grief. We sat down, we explained, we all expressed our concerns, and I thought it was over-with. I had went to my room for some quiet time, some me time, time to not be around people, I was disappointed, I didn’t even want to be around me. My son knocked on the door, asking gently if he could talk to me. I was in there, in the dark, laying sideways on my bed, too lazy to take my shoes off so my legs just dangled. He and his sister had got together, along with the boyfriend, and collected money for me and my wife to go have a date together, just the two of us, no worries, just go see a movie and have dinner, their treat. I was touched. We did go out, just her and I, we saw a movie that she had been saying she wanted to see, then we went to eat. We had a nice time, we didn’t talk about money a single time, and we were almost at a loss to have something to talk about, it was a bit sad if you ask me. When we were done neither of us was in a real celebratory mood so we went to go look at the area Christmas lights on our way home. It’s hard to be festive or to remain festive since we both know that this will be a very quiet Christmas for us. We both are looking forward to the coming year as anything has to be better than how 2014 turned out.

I guess my message is this, no matter how prepared for a disaster you assume that you are, you aren’t. There were probably thousands of ways to do things different but my goal was to keep my “credit” in tact as well as possible, late payments seem to hurt more than missed payments for some reason. I’m sure the kinks will get worked out soon enough, too bad its not today tho. I still wish that all of y’all have a very Merry Christmas (or whatever y’all do or don’t celebrate) and that the new years brings you one step closer to your dreams. I would like to give a quick shout out to Patty and Dr. Rexi who have made me smile and think in my times when I didn’t want to smile and think, and for that I can offer nothing more than my sincere thanks and gratitude. There have been other friends that have been there as well, I have not forgot y’all either. Y’all behave yourself at this time of year. If I don’t get back to writing another post by the end of the year just know we are well and we wish for all of y’all to be well as well.

Posted From Scorpion Sting’s Motorola Droid Maxx!

Listen Up Men, A Woman’s Perspective

In my past life I was a bartender in a full nude strip bar here in Houston. That’s not important tho, what is important is that I met some truly amazing people there, and I made some pretty good friends. One of those friends, Arlene, always told me I needed to have a sexual advice column on my blog and she would be the one providing the advice, both for men and women. Well, life happens pretty fast and I found myself not working there any longer, which sadly cut me off from 90% of the people I know. However, with a little effort, Arlene tracked me down, we had a few phone calls, and the results are what you are about to read. I gave her full reign, write what she wanted and how she wanted. So, I must warn y’all in advance, she’s really graphic and very blunt. Now, it’s time to relax in our chairs, and give some deep thoughts to what she has to say. I told her, depending on reader response, we would discuss future posts from her. I don’t know where she gets her great information from, but if I had to guess, it has been from male trial and error as well as female success. If y’all like it or dislike it, please let us know.

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Alright all of you men that think you’ve got the gift of the tongue because if you think you know how to use it to please a woman’s pussy, well guess again motherfuckers. Get the note pad out men and start seriously taking notes because this is how pussy is taken care of orally and this is how it’s done and done properly.

I present to all men on planet Earth, the lesbian approved guide to eating pussy the right way.

First of all, let me make clear that men really suck at eating pussy. I’m sorry to crush egos here, but it’s the truth and it’s time to set you fuckers straight once and for all. It’s not because they don’t like having a mouth full off delicious pussy, its because eating pussy where she actually enjoys it is really fucking hard for men. Eating pussy is an art. You have to learn to eat her pussy. But first you must understand her pussy. So it’s time women broke it down for the men and that’s what I intend doing.

The secret to eating pussy is to read the signs. You could be the best sexual mechanic in the world, but if you can’t read the emotional road signs, you’re going to end up wandering around in a desolate labial wasteland until, eventually, you drop from exhaustion, hot tears of confusion streaming down your face. Think of eating her pussy as your way of saying, “Although I am about to rock your insides with 3,000 pounds of explosives, here’s a little treat session to show you how I really feel.” Instead of a screamed “OH MY FUCKING GOD!!” like her fingers just got slammed in the fucking car door. Remember, cunnilingus elicits a more splendiferous “Oh My Fucking God.” Kind of like being massaged with exotic fruits by a muscular Arab oil sheik who is hung like a damn mule. A good mange (that’s French for “eat,” you brutes) is like a thousand years of Saturdays or a “Calgon, take me away” ad.

Don’t go down on her unless you’re down with going down on her. Unlike fellatio, cunnilingus can never be done as a favor. Doing it when you don’t want to will only bring on the dry heaves. If you eat that pussy like a pig at the trough, a lot of your stupid mistakes will be forgiven, I promise.

A dry pussy is an unhappy pussy. If your fingers graze a dry pussy, go back to the kissing, hugging, and groping for a while. Sometimes heavy petting is just the ticket to get her juices hot and flowing. Just make sure you actually dip your finger between the lips and not just rubbing lips violently. Sometimes moisture gets trapped between the labia and a little fingerial coaxing is all that’s needed to get the honey dripping. Once you’re sure the beaver is wet, give it a few light, teasing strokes with your finger. There’s nothing worse than rushing into this, so make sure she’s really begging for your undistracted attention before you get under the covers.

Extra tip: Be the one who brings up wet fingers that both of you can share like a 1950’s milkshake with two straws. Also, equally important, don’t play your trump card too soon by putting all of your fingers all the way inside. This can detract from the upcoming penetration and kill your tease factor. Try to remember that 78% of a woman’s pleasure is about yearning and poking the pussy too soon is sure to put out the fire. 

Submarine mission time for you now, so get ready. Once she’s lathered up, it’s time to go down. Get your fingers out of her pussy and don’t touch anything on her body for a bit. Let your lap do a bit of grinding and get some last-minute necking in like you’re going away on a very long vacation. Though it’s very tempting on your way down to pull the blankets over your head like the little mole-man that you are, this is a very bad idea. It gets super hot down there and whipping the blanket off your head and gasping for air ten seconds before she comes is pretty much going to kill her mood. Stat by kissing her boobs and stomach and slowly working your way down. Don’t get carried away with those stupid tits, though. That’s something you should have taken care of before her pants even came off. Right now it’s all about the stomach and inner thighs. A little bit of gentle biting is good, but a sure winner is to start at the knee and move toward the puss in a slow, shark-like swoop. Nibble your way right up to the edge of her pussy, then skip across it and head to the other knee. Repeat. Doing this a few times will get her really hot and save you a lot of pussy-eating time in the long run.

When you’re just about ready to do the deed, start practicing on that weird crevice next to the lips. Don’t spend too long there or she might start to think that you think that’s the actual opening. By now she should be dying for you to make your move. If you’re doing it right, she’ll be moaning and trying to force your head between her legs. Stretch this phase out until she looks like she’s been holding her breath for three days.

Extra Trick: Hover over her mound for about five seconds before the first lick. If you wait longer than that, she might think you’re having second thoughts because it smells bad. Of course, we all know that motherfucker smells sweeter than a bowl of steamin’ crawdaddies.

Important: Never bite any part of the pussy in any way whatsoever. If this needs more explaining you should probably just stick to jerking off.

You’ll need to part the Red Seas to isolate your playing field. The legs must spread apart wide enough in order to get your entire face into her pussy. One hot trick is to get her to spread her lips apart so her pussy is all set up for you like a great big pussy buffet.

Do your very first lick super slow. It’s good to groan and moan too, the vibrations will pulsate through her entire body. It shows you’re digging it while sending microscopic audiophonic vibrations right up her snapper. Start just above the anus and take it all the way to the fur (if no fur then stop just beyond the top of folds). Do about a dozen of these big sloppy wet St. Bernard licks before moving on (take it really slow, like four seconds per lick). This is a good time to figure out what kind of clit she has. If it’s real sensitive, she’ll probably convulse as you pass over it and that means you’re in for an easy ride. If there’s no reaction when you graze over her clit, she probably has one of those nerveless little pea clits and you’re in for a thirty-minute session of tongue tendonitis.

Rock the boat like she experiencing rough seas, pussy is not meant to be eaten in a gentle or idle motion. If you’re getting tired of being a ballerina boy, take it out on the clit. Figure out how much abuse it can take without making her uncomfortable and show the little bastard who’s boss.  After all, Mr. Elusive is precisely what makes eating pussy so difficult. He’s surrounded by labia and, even after you find him, all the pressure can pop him over to the side. All of a sudden you’re giving the pee hole the seeing-to of its life. Think of the clit as a tumor in a pile of earlobes. When you push down on the area, he’s the only one that can’t be squished. Once one of your tongue troopers finds him, call for reinforcements. Use your lips to get hers out of the way and focus all your attention on getting him alone. Once you find him, give him a bit of a hard time for trying to hide from you. Frisk him and give him a couple of whacks across the head. More on this punk and his bad attitude later.

Extra-important tip: The best way to stimulate the clit is to run your entire tongue over it after you isolate it from the lips. The man in the boat should feel the texture of the entire tongue pushing down on his body and his boat.

You need to Identify the clit type. After the slow licks it’s time to get this party started. There are essentially two types of clitori; ones that enjoy a serious going-over and ones that don’t. The latter suck about as much as a one-inch penis and you should dump her right away. Extra tip: Clits come in all shapes, sizes, and sensitivities; but that doesn’t really tell you much. All of them want to be treated slow and soft at the beginning, but the only way you can tell if you can go fast at the end is by reading her reactions. This is impossible to teach, but just do the best you can. All I can tell you is convulsing means take it easy and “Oh my God” means bring it on.

Clits that need a serious going-over are the most fun because you can be creative. Pretend your tongue is the bad cop and the clit is the guy who killed your partner. Separate him from his buddies (the lips) and suck him right up into your mouth. Now he’s on your turf. Keep him erect by creating an airtight vacuum chamber in your mouth. Slap the little bugger upside the head with one big tongue bonk. He’s not going to tell you shit because he’s a clit and he has no idea of what you’re talking about, but kick his ass anyways. After a few teasers and swirling circles, rat-a-tat-tat him senseless like a boxer whacking a speed bag. If she starts freaking out like it’s too much, ease up on the interrogation and go back to the St. Bernard licks. The vacuum is a great way to bring her to orgasm, but it’s a bit much sometimes, so mix things up with some circles around the clit and some tongue fucking.

As you’re closing in for the kill, go back to the vacuum and give the suspect a relentless head smacking. Up-and-downies are usually the most effective, but your tongue will get less tired if you throw in a few side-to-sides. When you feel the inner thighs start to shake, this is it. Be repetitive. Do NOT be creative. You’re almost home and this is not the time to start changing tactics. Extra tip: To keep the rhythm going, try repeating a chant in your head that goes with the movement of your tongue like a Micmac Indian (hi-yi-yi-ya, hi-yi-yi-ya, hi-yi-yi-ya). Any inconsistent action may throw her off, killing the mood or at least setting you back a few minutes, which is bad for morale for everyone. Important: Keep going several seconds after her orgasm. Remember, it isn’t over until the hands come down from above and lay you off. If she’s multiorgasmic, you’ll have to keep going until you’ve done the whole routine another four or five times. If you’re not sure what to do, just keep giving her shit until the magic hands come down.

Some clits don’t want to be singled out and battered around. These are the boring ones that need to be treated with gentle care. Just do casual St. Bernard licks until she cums, pure and simple. If you’re getting bored try going in some different directions for a while. A good way to keep it random is to spell out different letters of the alphabet with the tip of your tongue. You could be looking at half an hour here, and that can be problematic. If you go for that long and she doesn’t cum, you’re going to be in a foul mood, so if it’s too much work, move on. On the bright side, going for thirty minutes is something few people have the patience for, so sticking it out will lead to some payback when period week comes around.

In conclusion, once you’re done (totally finished), she’s going to want you out of there pronto because the whole area is sensitive. Instead of leaving, stick out your tongue and lay it down on her like a thick, soggy carpet. Make sure you don’t move it or anything because that can actually hurt her. Just let it sit there like a dead manta ray for about thirty seconds. Then come up and wipe your face like a pirate. Now is the time to take her from the quarters of Prince Muhammad Muhammad Saddat to the cockpit of an F-15.

EXTRA BONUS TRACKS

How to know if you are getting fired. If two hands suddenly drop from the sky and start pulling you up, you’ve just been sacked. She’ll tell you she never cums from that anyway, but the truth is you suck at your sucking. Just give her an extra hard pounding and look at the whole thing as a learning experience, she won’t complain. Later you can ask what the problem was so you can get it right the next time. If you’re really lame, you can ask for a regular play-by-play from the broadcast booth. A bit of the old “slow-down-you’re-going-to-fast-yeah-there-like-that-oh-that’s-perfect” can turn even the John Wayne Bobbitt of pussy eaters into a Doug Hart.

Nothing keeps you in the game and makes her cum harder than a mid-fuck munch. Pulling out in the middle of the race may leave her a bit confused, but it’s a great way for all you premature ejaculators to simmer down a bit and it reminds her neglected clitoris that he’s a somebody. If after a few seconds she still isn’t into it, you can save face by pretending you just couldn’t resist. Give it up and get back to the fucking. Extra tip: Unless you like the taste of your own pecker, keep your mid-fuck snacking to the upper clit region and stay away from the honey hole.

If you are dealing with a particularly saucy vixen she may want something in her ass for a while. A thumb gives you the best leeway, but keep in mind you are doing a raunchy thing and this should be saved until the end. Incidentally, if you’re trying to introduce the ass finger as a good thing, try sliding it in during orgasm. If it doesn’t wreck everything you could have a Pavlovian response on your hands for the rest of the relationship. We’re not going to get into licking the actual hoop in this section because if you’re into that, you’re way too advanced for this seminar and should have graduated with a PhD in pussy years ago. Ass-cheek rubbing is always good. There are over five hundred thousand nerve endings on those cheeks, so giving them a good squeeze or a slap while you lick the pussy will get you instant pleasurable results.

The double whammy is simultaneous fingering and it’s a great way to totally blow her mind. Think of it as the crack cocaine of cunnilingus.

Tongue exhaustion is the number-one cause of abandoned mange-ing, but there are many ways to avoid it. Like we said, using your tongue as an inanimate object is a great way to give it a rest. Stick it out as far as if can go and tense it. Then bite into it with your teeth and move it around the pussy using your neck muscles. Another solution is simply to use your fingers on the clit while you give your mouth a rest. This concludes today’s important lesson for men on how a woman wants to have her pussy eaten. I hope you learned something today, and if not then there is little hope for men trying to eat pussy right.

White Weddings Are For Fairytales

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“I don’t know how young girls get it stuck in their heads that the perfect wedding is one of our life’s goals. When I was a little girl I learned that I desired the perfect white wedding to mark the beginning of my life as being married to my prince charming. What I never knew was how it was all going to happen for me. I suppose one could say I grew up in a typical suburban family, the youngest of three girls, all of us achieving the goal of being a high school cheerleaders while remaining as straight A students. We all followed in the footsteps of our mother who we all idolized, we all wanted what she had, we all wanted to be where she was in life. Being the youngest, I was witness to seeing just how easy it is for one’s dreams to fall by the wayside. Somewhere in high school I began losing my faith in God, not because I blamed him for anything, but because he no longer seemed to have the answers. I grew impatient with him because when I turned to him to find my strength I felt as if I was waiting for something that he couldn’t help me find, myself. I lost myself wanting to be like my sisters and wanting what my mother had. Dreams I would soon find that I could not reach the way they reached them.

Halfway into my freshman year of high school my oldest sister found out she was pregnant. My sisters and I were close, we had a pact to remain virgins until our honeymoon, so I was sure how my sister explained it was the truth. She had attended a seniors only party a few months before, she went with her boyfriend of three years, and she was dropped off by that boyfriend after the party. The truly strange part about it, because my parents had DNA tests done, is that he was not the father of the baby. At the party she did like she always did, just drank diet coke, because she didn’t drink. A few hours into the party she remembers feeling sick so she went to the bathroom, which is where her boyfriend found her thirty minutes later, passed out on the floor. Long story short is that it is believed that someone at the party put some kind of drug into her diet coke, this lead to her getting sick, which lead her to the bathroom, and where someone raped her while she was out cold. Nobody is ever going to know the secret to the mystery. At five months pregnant, the fetus aborted in the middle of the night, we were told that due to unseen complications during the pregnancy that it just terminated on its own. Three days later, during my sisters first night back home from the hospital, she committed suicide. We buried my sister and her unborn daughter at the end of the week.

As a family we took all of this real hard, my parents really closed off the world, even worse, the closed us off from them the most, emotionally and physically. It seemed, at the time, that being the youngest, that I was taking it all in the most negative way, but the following event proved the opposite. Within a month of her funeral, my other sister decided to just disappear from the face of the planet. She left a brief letter to explain not to worry about her, she needed to be far away, and she would be okay because she had a plan. Nice plan, abondon everyone, give everyone something new to grieve about. I personally, have not seen or had contact with her since the night before she disappeared. I continued high school, I watched my parents grow distant from each other, and finally my dad decided that everyone would be best if he left as well. After their divorce, shortly after I graduated, I too, left everything I knew, my mom was heart broken, but said she would always be there for me. I ended up in Houston somehow, came in with the wind one night, broke, hungry, and alone. I didn’t like my current situation so, after seeing an ad I applied for a job and was hired a few days later. That job lasted about a month and one day I heard these two pretty girls talking about the money they had been making. I sat down with them, we became friends, and, in a weird way, showed me an uncertain path.

Which, coincidentally, is where we sit today. I will be 23 in a few days, graduating from Rice University later this fall, after 4 very long years of hard work. I really don’t mind doing what I do, strip for money, because it has actually given me a bright future, one that I can touch, feel, and see. Stripping has given me an education about people, an education that I’m not sure I could have received anywhere else. When I graduate this fall I will be leaving this club and beginning the next chapter in my life, always being very thankful that I overhead a conversation I was never meant to hear.” 

…………. The preceding paragraphs were transcribed from a recorded conversation between myself and Molly, well, most of it was her talking while I listened. I have let technology take the place of my own memory and little black note book when it comes to writing for Scorpion Sting’s Bartender Stories. I’m liking the way it worked out, I didn’t have to handwrite any of it and I just pushed play and pause to thumb type this on my phone. I hope y’all enjoyed this entry, it was sad and happy, just like my own life seems to be, sometimes life is what it is and we must roll with the punches just to survive.

Humans Are Our Own Worst Enemy

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Okay, even before I gave it away, y’all know this is just my way of poking a little fun at all the gun grabbers out there. Too many people fear what they don’t know or what they can’t handle. As a result, the mentality can be applicable to many things in our lives, from fast cars to fast food and everything imaginable in between, to include guns of all shapes, sizes, and colors. Of course I don’t want the government to ban fast cars, fast food, fast women, or fast weapons. As always, these are my humble opinions, they’re not always the easiest to swallow. There will be just as many people disagreeing with me as there will be agreeing with me, either way I still stand firm in how I believe.

The Next Chapter For An Old Friend

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When I was in high school, a junior I believe, I found the iron ends of what used to be a bench of some sort. I rescued these end pieces from the trash pile, taking them into the garage where they would eventually sit, in a corner, for a few more months. Over the summer I scrubbed, rubbed, and scraped off years of paint, decay, and outdoor abuse. With the aid of my dad, we used some scrap red cedar, too short and too narrow for anything else, to make this a bench once again. I spent many hours applying linseed oil to the planks of wood, hand painting to iron supports, and getting it ready for a life in my mother’s garden she had in the front yard. This is where the bench lived for the next year. After graduation, I left to college in Waco the summer of ’87, my mother insisted I take the old bench because in her eyes it has always been mine. Since my high school sweetheart went with me, we decided to rent this little one bedroom, one bath house, the bench was our couch for the two years we lived there.

Soon enough, this bench would begin a journey with me, seeing the places in the world I would live, and eventually being introduced to my daughter who was born in Japan. The bench sat in my back yard facing a beautiful Japanese garden complete with koi ponds, statues, and a zen garden. We would sit out here daily, as weather permitted, watching the old couple in their 90s meticulously groom their garden. This is where I would read to her as I tried my hand at learning to speak Japanese. Eventually, we would begin calling New Mexico home, the bench found a spot under a large Chinkapin Oak where my daughter spent allot of time year round playing, reading, and taunting the local wildlife. Years later, her mother and I would indeed divorce, we owned very little in regards to furniture and such, but she wanted the bench for some reason. When I got wind of this devious plan the bench mysteriously got stolen, meaning I made it disappear, finding it a new home, once again, at my parent’s house. Skip ahead a few years now, I’m remarried, bought the place we’re in now, and the bench has been watching the pond ever since. By now, as you can see, some 28 years later, it needs a little tlc. I don’t know how old this bench is for real, but my almost 4 year old granddaughter has taken a liking to it. My oldest daughter thinks I should give it to her, one day, when she decides to get married.

When I told my son that I was going to be doing a little work to the bench he begged me to be a part of it all. Which is great for me, reminds me of when I was young and wanted to help my dad do things. I set him to disassembling the bench, taking care not to nick himself with something rusty, he used a fair amount of penetrating oil on all of the rusty bolts, all which would be replaced, which he didn’t know. He helped me scrub the metal and eventually paint it, he chose black again because as far as he can recall, its always been black. I had some engine block red I was going to use, but we kept it black for old time sakes. He helped cut the slats out of some reclaimed red cedar planks I had stashed, helped sand, shape, and finish them with me as well. Finally we were all ready for assembly, which he was very much involved in. I can see the pride on his face as we near the finish, he has done an absolute fantastic job, and I think he learned a few new things as well. Reminds me of a show I like that shows what happens to man made items if there is nobody to take care of them. For fun, I sent the picture below to my dad, asking if he remembered this bench. He called me and we talked about its great adventures and how well my own son had done bringing it back to life once again.

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