Visiting My Old Neighborhood

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I found myself out to my sister’s house this week doing some additions and remodeling on a 127 year old house. Nothing big, but big for my 69 year old dad and me. First on that list was replacing the original 67 foot wide covered porch which recently had a tree crash through it, destroying 80% of it. They all did demo last week, then we built it this week. It will be roofed next week when the entire house gets a shiny new metal roof. This house is proof that you can polish a turd to shine like gold.

Anyway, while out at her house I decided to drop in on an old friend from high school. He still lives in his mother’s house in our old neighborhood we grew up in. We had the first two houses built in this development in 1973, we watched the whole neighborhood being built. I haven’t been to his house since going to his mother’s funeral in 2000. As I will explain, much has changed in the old neighborhood in the last 15 years. I also wanted to see the house I grew up in which was three houses down. My parents moved out in 2000 as well, so I really had little reason to go back. As I found out, going after dark was a rather large mistake on my part, the neighborhood has been through some very disturbing changes. Let’s just start with my old family house, which is nothing more than a foundation, debris, and trash. Seems it burnt to the ground about three weeks ago after the meth lab blew up that was in the garage. I called my parents, who are still in disbelief, who drove out today during daylight hours to look at it. When I finally made it to my friends house it was like visiting one of the wards in downtown Houston. There were iron bars on all the windows, the garage doors, and all the doors had heavy duty iron security gates in place. I’m guessing at this time the old neighborhood is not super safe any longer.

I had it explained to me that the last several years there have been really negative changes. The older people were moving out and there houses were turned into rent houses. I’m not saying that created the problem but it did accelerate the problem. Out of 156 homes in the neighborhood, only 4 of them are owned or have a mortgage, my friend owning the one he lives in. I won’t get all stereotypical on y’all since you’re already doing it in your minds for me. And I’m not being racist, there seems to be equal shares of everyone, in fact the clowns that burnt our house to the ground were white, well white trash. It’s a shame to see a neighborhood go this direction in any regards, but we all know it does happen everywhere, even out in little hick towns in southeast Texas. Blaming someone or something is pointless since it is pure economics. Unfortunately in big cities and little towns the low rent houses tend bring in a culture of people that others tend to move away from, that’s if they can, many can’t and they are just consumed by the negative changes happening around them. I’m no sociologist, but I know that the money in your pocket usually determines your living conditions. I am going to end my opinion right there.

I recall hearing on the news a few weeks ago about a meth house burning down in my old little town but missed where it was exactly and dismissed altogether since news in the Houston area every day is full of the same shit, shootings, arson, safe houses, trafficking, car chases, robberies, and so forth. But damn, meth heads blew up our old house. Needless to say, I didn’t visit with my friend very long because I didn’t want to be there to late. I did ask about his heightened security and he told me after two break ins where they stole things easily pawned that he had two choices, stay and fight or move away, he says there are no plans to move.

In the end, its very disappointing to see these now 40 year old houses laying waste in decay, abandoned, burnt out, and boarded up. I’m not trying to be dramatic about it, I know things change, but that shouldn’t mean it all has to go straight to hell. Or does it? Again, yes I know, it comes down to money and economics, plus the right conditions be set in motion, and so forth. If I may be a little nostalgic, I remember the days before the internet and xboxs, riding my bike everywhere with my friends, and seeing the street lights coming on meant get your ass home. As kids we lived outside, we liked the outside, we cherished our time outside, and I can’t recall never being struck with the dilemma of having nothing to do. It was a simpler time back then, a time we never get to go back to, and now all I have are the fond memories of growing up in a great house in a great neighborhood, all of this, of course, before the meth heads blew it all to fuck and back. Okay, I’m done sharing, get back to your lives.

Finally, ZZ Top with Jeff Beck

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Finally, ZZ Top with Jeff Beck will be back here in Houston. Oddly enough, I had bought tickets for my son and I to attend the scheduled concert on 12 September 2014, but do to an injury the concert was delayed, indefinitely I was thinking. These tickets were bought for my sons 13th birthday in August 2014. The rest of us go to concerts on a pretty regular basis, normally leaving my son in the wind either because of his lack of interest or his age. But, he is allot like me, really likes the classic rock versus all the garbage one hears these days. Luckily for me we have that musical interest in common, luckily he is a giant ZZ Top fan as well. So, I surprised him for his 13th birthday when I got wind this little ‘ol band from Texas was coming home to the very town of there origins and roots, Houston. Well, as I mentioned, the original date was killed off, but the new day is literally just a few days away. So, this Saturday evening, on 02 May 2015, my son and I will be going to what is his very first live concert, which is ironic, ZZ Top was my very first concert as well back in the late 70s, I think I was like 11 or 12 at the time.

Is he excited? What do you think, of course he is excited. As well, I’m very excited, I will continue the tradition that started with my oldest daughter, who is turning 25 this year, I took her to her first concert when she was 7 in Sante Fe New Mexico. Then, of course last year, she and my 3 year old grand daughter joined the rest of us here in Houston to see Kiss and Def Leopard. My, now 18 year old daughter had her first taste of a concert with me when we went and saw Metallica in Vegas many years ago, and then Iron Maiden a few years ago. The only one of my children who really shares the full spectrum of hard rock, heavy metal, death metal, and classic rock is my oldest daughter, my other two just tolerate me and “my music”, that includes my dedicated to country music wife. I thought I lost my son to country music a few years ago, but I seemed to got him back on the right track now.

So, now it is my son’s turn will dear ‘ol dad to witness another rock & roll icon and legend, ZZ Top. He’s even found an old pair of dark black big framed sun glasses he plans wearing, in tribute to their classic look and one of his favorite songs. For me, this will my third time seeing ZZ top, but my first ever for Jeff Beck. Does that make me a bad person? You’re right, it does not! We will even be arriving to the concert at The Cynthia Woods Pavilion in definite style, my wife has offered to deliver us in her new Mustang. Well, y’all haven’t heard about that story yet, but I promise I will write a short post about it following this one, it’s a pretty funny story since it began as one thing and ended another way. Anyway, we’ll have front door drop off and pick up service, kinda like one sees when mom or dad is dropping off the teens for a concert. I promise to write a post about concert night, it will be his “first time”, so I’m sure there will be plenty to write about. Until then, hasta la vista mofos!

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Do You Need A Vaginal Detox Now?

Before I begin, before I share this story, and before I let you read it uninterrupted, I must first thank Rachel G. from right here in Houston Texas for this intriguing read. She is a strong supporter of The Scorpion Army and always provides, not only the “news” but always includes the link and original poster information. Other than the words that are in this paragraph, which are mine and mine alone, the story and picture belong to the original writer, listed below. It begs the question, have the females reading now had this treatment before or would you consider it? Why? Or why not?

Should You Get A V-Steam? Vaginal Detox Claims To Soothe Menstrual Cramps And Boost Women’s Fertility

May 12, 2014 06:25 PMBy: Lizette Borreli@lizcelineb

Original Story

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A vaginal detox, a popular new down-under treatment trend, claims to provide health benefits to women by regulating menstrual cycles and boosting fertility, but does it really work?

When it comes to bizarre beauty treatments, Hollywood’s elite are our guinea pigs ready to try it to love it or hate it. And we’re ready to follow the herd shortly after, especially when it comes to improving sex life. The popular down under treatment, vaginal steaming, commonly known as v-steam, is an ancient Korean treatment that provides a steam facial for the vagina to release toxins. Although there is no clinical evidence to support the benefits of v-steams, there is a surplus of anecdotal evidence that supports its healing powers, from soothing menstrual cramps to boosting fertility in women, but should we all flock together for this trend?

V-Steam: How does vaginal steaming work?

Detoxifying your vagina is exactly how it sounds: While wearing a big tent from the waist down, the woman squats down without underwear over a steaming pot of water infused with therapeutic herbs like mugwort, basil, calendula, oregano, marshmallow root, wormwood, and rosemary, but the two predominant herbs in the steam bath include mugwort andwormwood. During the process, which should last for about 20 to 45 minutes, the v-steam supposedly dilates the blood vessels, increasing blood circulation, providing oxygen, and relaxing the pelvic floor muscles.

Mugwort, according to the American Cancer Society, helps treat stomach and intestinal disorders, including cramps, but it has also been used for menopausal and menstrual complaints, along with infertility. The herb stimulates the production of hormones in order to maintain uterine health, and protects the uterus from ulcers and tumors.

Wormwood, similar to mugwort, has been used to aid digestive disorders and immune system strength, while regulating a woman’s menstrual cycle and hormones. The herb is also considered to be antimicrobial and a sedative that can detoxify the uterus.

The combination of these herbs accompanied with some steam, cleanses, tones and nourishes the cervix, uterus, and vaginal tissues. However, using any kind of fresh herbs can provide different medicinal properties for women.

V-Steam: The Evidence

While this may seem like voodoo medicine to some of you, v-steam supporters have rallied up to highlight its health benefits. Celebrity twin sisters Tia and Tamara Mowry are among many in Hollywood who have tried the beauty treatment, known in Korean as chai-yok. The Mowry sisters were intrigued by the idea of reviving their lady parts when they heard it can improve your sex life. “It feels like someone is doing this on your vajay-jay,” they said in an episode on Tia&Tamara, holding their hands up to their faces to blow their hot breath onto them.

Celebrities aren’t the only ones to try the trend. Niki Han Schwartz, owner of Tikkun Holistic Spa in Santa Monica, told the Los Angeles Times vaginal steam baths helped her get pregnant at the age of 45 after only five steams, after Schwartz has been trying to conceive for three years. Schwartz and her husband, orthopedic surgeon Charles Schwartz, are set to introduce vaginal steam baths to Southern California women to share the success of their v-steam story.

However, other doctors, like Dr. Camilo Gonima, a practicing obstetrician and gynecologist in San Antonio, Texas, has doubts about the claims vaginal detoxes, or steam baths, claim to fulfill.  “Herbal steams could have some relaxing effects and some beneficial superficial effects on the skin, just like a sauna or a facial steam would, he told Medical Daily. “Other than any possible involvement stress might have on these issues, I don’t see any basis for any significant effects on fertility or menstrual cycles.”

V-Steam: Should every woman get a vaginal detox?

While there still doesn’t exist scientific evidence to support or deny v-steam claims, can it help when it comes to vaginal cleanliness or health? Since the steam remains external during a v-steam, it does not have any effect on vaginal cleanliness, especially when the vagina is a self-cleaning organ. Gonima believes since the vagina maintains “a healthy environment by maintaining a mix of beneficial bacteria,” v-steams are unnecessary. However, if women have a specific infection and require necessary treatment, he suggests the use of probiotics.

If you choose to do a v-steam or have done it on numerous occasions, Gonima says women can do them as often as they desire, but he does suggest women to proceed with caution. “[I] would emphasize that this should be entirely external, and I’d be cautious about safety to avoid the risk of scalding,” he told Medical Daily.

A detoxing facial for your vagina is mostly harmless, possibly soothing, but is comparable to the effects of aromatherapy, steam baths, and even a relaxing hot shower. Women should be cautious about mishaps with hot water, especially if they intend to do vaginal detoxes within the comfort of their home. One session of v-steam treatments at spas and holistic health centers range from $20 to $75 and typically last anywhere between 30 to 45 minutes. Those who are too shy to visit a spa can purchase a do-it-yourself kit for $150 on EarthDancerWellness.com.

If you’re curious, try v-steaming and see if it provides any physiological benefits for you.

© 2015 IBT Media Inc. All rights reserved.

Medical Daily is for informational purposes and should not be considered medical advice, diagnosis or treatment recommendation. Read more.

A New Meaning To Slippery When Wet

So, I’ve mentioned before, my Magic Weekend inbox is overflowing with great stories, some extremely long, and some which are short and sweet. This next one I’m posting is on the short side. Annabel has been a very regular contributor to The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog, so when I see she has sent me something new I usually go ahead and check hers out first. Although, this time she was full of surprises, this time she sent in a personal story for the Magic Weekend, and I knew I had to post it right away. Y’all will see, as per a promise I made last month, that I’m going to try to post the pictures sent to me without to much damn censoring, but as you call tell, female anatomy is rather challenging to work with to edit it where one still has an idea of what the pictures are trying to illustrate. I think most of y’all can do the math to see what two plus two equals. If not, there’s absolutely no fucking help for you. So, without further delay, please enjoy her story, I know I did.

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Dear Scorion Sting-

As we both know, I’m a regular sender of information, pictures, and ideas, because I try to carry out my role in The Scorpion Army. I have seen many of my ideas posted in your blog so I thought you might enjoy something not so generic and a little bit more personal. So, I will make this simple because I made a premeditated choice this past Saturday night. It was my 21st birthday and I wanted to get myself something rememberable. I had wanted, since I have been 16, to get my clit pierced, a VCH, a vertical clitorius hood piercing, but never have. For my birthday this year it was going to be my gift to me because nobody else was going to get my kitty fancy jewelry but me. I was ready, I really was, I took extra time shaving, making sure I was so smooth that water beaded up on the skin. Mission accomplished. I put on loose, baggy warm up pants because I was told that one’s clit gets pretty swollen and sore afterwards. In the end I was as ready as I thought I could ever be, and to say I was excited is an understatement, because I’m fucking extatic.

I get to the tattoo shop, you can omit the name if you like, but its a place you have mentioned before, I just know you don’t like giving free advertising. Anyway, sitting in front of Magic Needle I found myself growing really impatient, it was time to go, my wait is finally over. Once inside I was asked if I had an artist preference and if I wanted a male or female artist. It doesn’t matter, just as long as their aim is true and straight. After filling out all of the legal release paperwork I was led back to a room, instructed to lay on the table, and to remove my sweats. There I laid, for what seemed like an eternity, on the table with my pants in the chair, getting a slight chill, but flushing with heat because I didn’t know what was about to happen. As the seconds turned to minutes, Ron enters to explain the process, gets his tools ready, and here we go. I only felt his warm fingers, a cold clamp, and a sharp snap of pain. Then it was over, no foreplay, no teasing, just stuck it through. I will remember that feeling for the rest of my life as there has been nothing to ever compare it to so far in my 21 years. Want to talk about making me instantly wet, that did the fucking trick 100 fold!

Then, Ron turned to me and mentioned that they had a special going on, get one piercing and get your next one half off if done in the next seven calendar days. So I told him if he has time I got a nipple he could pierce right now. He smiled, got prepped, I showed him where, and like lightning my nipple was also pierced. You can only imagine the sensations that were going through my entire fucking body, in fact I don’t even think I am capable of explaining it right. But my sensitivity was increased like a billion times over. When I was done I was led up front to pay, this is also where they gave me my care for new piercings literature. Mentioned one shouldn’t touch the areas unless cleaning for 5-7 days, fuck that, I couldn’t stop touching either one the entire ride home. Now I just needed to get fucked hard to seal the night for me. But, no luck, I went home alone. Lucky for me I had a very lonely cucumber which had no prior obligations to handle my immediate needs, so it all worked out for the best if you ask me.

I know you have this stupid rule about using pictures with full nudity but there is no other way to show you what I had done but to just send pictures of myself, plus I know you can make them usable. Now, realize this morning, as I write this email, I’m a little sore, but I know Monday morning I’m off to work, with no one the wiser of my weekend. Glad I wear skirts, going commando for a few days should be interesting, hope nobody at the office gets an eyeful. I think I hit the blood part of your criteria, don’t know if letting a cucumber have its way with me counts as sex, but it did the fucking job for me!

Annabel H., Houston Tx

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I told y’all it was short and sweet, and as much as I wish I could share with y’all her beautiful VCH and horizontal nipple piercing, all the censoring, as you can plainly see, blocks what was so nicely done. I had to salvage at least two of the eleven great pictures she sent in so just deal with it. Yes, I know, all is blocked from view, just imagine a horizontal stainless steel stud pierced through her nipple and a vertical stud through her clitoral hood. Well folks, that’s it for this one. Keep sending in your Magic Weekend stories, keep sending in your pictures, and just keep doing all the crazy shit that y’all do every single weekend.

So Its Cold, Suck It Up Princess!

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This will probably be the one and only time y’all will ever hear me talking shit about the people in the great state of Texas. But, since I live northeast of Houston Texas I think I will take this opportunity to say my piece. Correct, snow and ice this far south is not a common sight and when Texans see it they absolutely freak out. Texans close public places, government places, roads, airports, bridges, and businesses. Why? Well, they claim we are not “equipped” to drive or be outside in these conditions. In other words, many Texans get cold and they let their pussies hang out for the world to see. When these weather conditions happen I just want to yell “Suck it up princess” because 99.9% of the time it isn’t quite as bad as they make it out to be. The sky isn’t falling or anything. Tell y’all the truth, it’s a bit embarrassing for me, because nobody knows how to act here in inclimate weather. Is it cold outside, depends on what one knows as cold. For people here tho, where this kind of shit isn’t normal, they freak out. For me, I really don’t care because the conditions are still tolerable. I don’t know, it’s strange how people act around here with a little snow and ice. Perhaps that is why we don’t see many Texans moving up north because mentally we are not equipped to handle below freezing temperatures. Who knows.

On the flip side, my year round ducks don’t seem to be minding it too much as they tool around the pond this morning. Perhaps they know that the “wintery mix” will pass sometime in the next few hours and we will get back to normal. I was up this morning bright and early to be into work by 6:30am and I will admit the roads were a little slick. I didn’t see any ice personally but I did see a few accidents on the way to work. The further north a person gets from where I live saw more than we did, one has to get up past the frost line to really be impacted, which they did, I saw on the news they had got 4″ of snow. What are we to do? Don’t these people know that life must go on, that life must press forward, and that living here we all know that we will be in the mid-70s again in a day or so. In my entire life I have never understood why people freak out and get their panties in such a twist when it gets a little chilly. I still wore shorts in to work today, although I did slip on a hoody to keep my core warm. Okay, I’m done. My fellow Texans frustrate me a bit because they freak out and start acting like giant pussies when it drops below freezing but we all know this isn’t shit compared to what the yankees up north deal with for way longer periods of time.

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Explaining My Three Fathers

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Explaining my three fathers to my children has always been stories I enjoy telling. Sometimes it is like going down the wrong rabbit hole because it can be just a wee bit confusing. For those of y’all who just started playing along then I would guess y’all are at a bit of a loss. My recommendation is to search The Sting Of The Scorpion using the terms adoption, adopted, and biological. Then, perhaps y’all will be up to speed. Let me give a very brief review. I’m adopted, I’ve known my entire life. The fact that I was adopted was never the secret. In fact, until I turned 18 I never knew there was even a secret that people wished I never learned. In my case the records were sealed due to the circumstances of the pregnancy. Fortunately I was able to get them unsealed and have spent the better part of 25 years piecing together everyone’s dirty little secret, me.

On the backside of my property there lives an enormous oak tree. I find that when I’m in the presence of this oak tree that I tend to think of my family tree. My family tree is really twisted. If one was to look at it analytically I am actually the part of three family trees, if not more,  each in a separate way that leads into a different direction. Confused yet? We’ll get back to that. I have had “family”, specifically my biological family, on my mind recently since we (my wife & I) are planning to visit my oldest daughter (23) in Rapid City South Dakota over spring break this coming March 2014. Most of my biological family lives in the state of South Dakota, as well as my biological father and adopted father are both buried there also. For the purposes of explanation in this post the following will be the reference points when I discuss my three fathers, BF = Biological Father, AF = Adopted Father, SF = Step Father, my BM (biological mother/birth mother), and my AM (adopted mother/mother). Refer back to these abbreviations during this post if needed.

Everyone seems to want a piece of me when we go on the trip when all I really care to do is spend time with my daughter and my 2 y/o granddaughter whom we haven’t seen in some time now. Now, personally, my “agenda” will be to spend time with my wife, kids, and my granddaughter. Now, will that happen? Your guess is as good as mine. As my younger children get older they have began to have questions about family because my side of the family is kinda complicated. Recently I, for the second or third time now, tried to explain things to my son, who I finally now think gets it. Me being adopted is not what is in question. How this fits into my life as well as my kids life is what always seems to be confusing. And, when I explain it here I might go out-of-order and bounce around a bit so just try pay attention. Like I mentioned above, from this point further I will address my fathers by their relationship to me. I needed to explain all of this to my children because they have never met my BF (biological father) or my AF (adopted father), all three of them only know my SF (step father) and all three of my children will be meeting my biological family (many of them but probably not all of them) in March.

So lets see where to begin here. I was born 06 November 1968 in a little town in the southeast of South Dakota. I was placed with my adopted parents within days of my birth. My adopted parents were divorced by the time I was 6. I will get into that another time. By the time I was turning 7 my mother was re-married and we all moved to the southwest side of Houston Texas. My AF remained in South Dakota where I visited him every Christmas break and summer vacation until he died at the end of the summer in 1983. I remained being raised by my SF and still to this day consider him to be my dad. Anything y’all read around this blog about the current happenings with my parents is about my mother and step father, which he is never referred to in the real world. There was never any secret of me being adopted, I have always “known” because I was told early on. Why? I don’t know. Before I start the next part, let it be known that my SF and my mother (AM) have always loved me and raised me if I was their own blood son. Their loyalty to me as a son has never, nor will it ever, be in question.

Once I was out on my own, joined the United States Air Force, married, and had my first daughter I was asked about my family history so medical records for my daughter could be started. I was at a loss, I was actually crushed because here I brought a child into existence and I don’t even know if I passed something on to her genetically that had the potential of being bad. I struggled with this fact for a few months as I held my daughter in my arms wondering if there were going to be things about herself that she would never know. After a brief discussion with my wife and a long conversation with my mother (AM) the decision was made I was going to find out who I was. It was the thought at the time, it gave me hope for myself and my daughter. Since I was stationed in Japan in 1991 I had to do things the old-fashioned way, I had to write letters. I actually only wrote two different letters, form letters, which I used to inquire about my adoption records and my biological parents. I won’t lie, I hit allot of dead ends, I got wrapped up in allot of red tape, and I was at a point (after a year) where I was ready to give up because there didn’t seem to be any information to have. Then, out of the blue, when I was ready to quit, I received a letter from the office of the Judge that was over my case back in 1968. I was informed that they had the information I was seeking, but, since I was overseas I needed to provide all my personal information along with an affidavit from my commander confirming my identity.

I gathered everything I had, to include birth certificate and the letter from my commander, loaded it in an envelope and sent it on it’s way. For the first couple of weeks I waited very patiently, then a month rolled by and my patience was wearing thin. After 3 months I just gave up. Soon after I received another letter from the office of the judge informing me that he has reviewed my case and my request and is granting my request to have my adoption records unsealed. I was informed that they were ordered sealed due to the circumstances of the adoption and the biological mother as a request of her parents. I had no idea what all of that meant and was more confused than ever. The following day I received a package (large envelope) from the judge’s office that had a complete copy of everything that was filed in accordance with my adoption proceedings. It was worse than my worst nightmare, everything I wanted to know was blacked out like this was some kind of top secret document. All of the names, dates, places, agencies, and so forth were either removed or blacked out altogether. These documents read like a very well written mystery, with one exception, I never got to find out “who did it”. So, for now, the quest for information is dead.

I was divorced in 1998, we split everything up, she went one way, and my daughter and I remained. I put 90% of my stuff into storage where it sat for the next few years. In 2000 I was remarried, I welcomed with open arms my own step daughter (that will be the only time you ever hear me refer to her as a step anything) and finishing up the remaining time I had for active duty Air Force Guard. In 2001, after my son was born, we decided we wanted to raise our family in a house and not an apartment. I didn’t want just any house, I wanted a house we could grow into, grow old in, and not need to move any more, as I was tired of all the moving over the years being in the Air force, I was done moving. I spent the next 18 months designing our new house. My wife thought I was the obvious choice as the architect since that is what I have a degree in. So I did it, between working for my SF as a concrete contractor I spent the hours needed creating our dream home. Once we were happy with the design I submitted it to a Texas state licensed architect for the “stamp of approval” I needed to move forward. I found 10.4 acres in a large lot subdivision that we really fell in love with. For the next 18 months we watched our dream come true.

After we got moved in I announced I needed to make a trip to New Mexico to gather my belongings out of a storage unit there. So, my oldest daughter and I loaded up a trailer and made the road trip. It wasn’t much, mostly boxes full of records, pictures, and different things I had collected while I was in the Air Force bouncing around the world. When we got back home I went to unpack the boxes and noticed the one that had all of my adoption research in it. Not wanting to stop, I had my daughter just put the box in the master bedroom closet for later. After about a month of organizing I was at the computer paying some bills, checking the weather, and just when I was getting done my wife comes in and announces “we need to talk” with tears rolling down her face. (Fuck! What did I do?) I knew I have done nothing so that couldn’t be it, so what was it. I noticed in her hand a letter that I had written so many years before and she asked me when I was going to tell her. Tell her? I thought she knew I was adopted, I really thought this had come up in conversation before. It had, but my quest for information was never talked about. To tell you the truth the box was put in my closet to protect it from humidity damage, I had no intention of going through it because in my opinion the quest was dead and I had given up. I explained to her I had no interest in talking about it but she was free to read all of it if she wanted to.

A few days later I was piddling around in the garage putting some shelves up when my wife comes out to let me know I had a phone call. Weird because I didn’t even hear the phone ring which was mere feet from where I was working. My wife holds her hand over the mouth piece as she whispers that she loves me in my ear. After I said hello there was an extremely long dramatic pause, so I said hello again. This time a woman said hello back to me. She went on to explain that my wife contacted her the day before and asked if her and I could talk. Okay, lets talk. She informed me of who she was, she explained to me that she was my biological mother (BM). I was at a loss for words. She told me she would tell me anything I wanted to know. She said we are older now so it was time for the truth to be told. Okay. She gave me a name and claimed it to be the biological father’s name but never kept up with him after I was born so that is all she knew. She then needed to go, this was too emotional for her, so we hung up. I was dumbstruck to say the least. Seems my wife is pretty sneaky. She told me she had “friends” who knew what to do with the information I had and in less than 24 hours had a name and a current phone number. Really? Really.

We found a number for the name she gave me and gave it a call. The plot thickened because the person she had me call was my BF’s good friend from back in the day. He put his name as the father and so forth to protect his friend’s marriage. This lie came between them a few years later and the friendship was severed, so he didn’t see the harm in giving me his name, the real name this time and he even had the phone number. After hanging up with him I called the number and asked to speak with the named person I was given and I was informed at that time by the man on the other end that he has been deceased since 1996. The man I was talking to was my BF’s wife’s new husband. He gave me the name and phone number of their oldest son if I wanted to talk with him because he might have more information. When I called him I got the answering machine. I left a message for him to call me and my information. When he returned the call we spoke for many hours because I knew things that nobody outside of their immediate family should even know. We were able to fill in each others blank spaces so to say. I offered up a DNA test to prove who I was and I was told that it wasn’t necessary he knew that I had to be genuine. The puzzle was indeed coming together for me and I basically unraveled everything he had ever known to be true. A few days later, his mother called me, she said she felt obligated since her husband had died before I could “confront” him in person. Yea, him being dead really did throw a wrench in it all for me.

I kept in telephone contact with my BF’s side of the family for a couple of years before it came time to go to my oldest daughter’s graduation in Rapid City South Dakota. She decided to go live with her mom, who guilted her into believing that her life was just too damn lonely without her. Since we were going to South Dakota for her graduation I had the bright idea that this would be the perfect time to meet my biological family as well as visit my AF’s grave that I have not seen since the day I buried him. I also contacted my BM and told her I was willing to drive to northern Idaho to meet her while we were on our trip. She declined as well as asking me not to contact her or her two other sons ever again. I have honored her request. I visited my AF’s grave, which was hard, it was emotional, and left me drained. The following day I visited my BF’s grave. This was hard as well but something I felt I needed to do. Why? I felt he needed to “see” me and “hear” my voice, I needed him to hear me and see me. I met all of his children, 4 sons and 4 daughters, and a whole slough of grandbabies, nieces, and nephews who had zero idea who this strange man was that was at their grandma’s house. The accepted me, it was like I had been on a long trip or lived far away and was finally returning home. Was it bizarre? Absolutely bizarre. by the time these 3 days were over my brain was mush, I felt like the wash cloth that gets crumpled up and left to dry in the corner of the shower, I was just done. But I had a graduation to go to, I had to get back on the road to drive five hours away to get to the next town for my oldest daughter’s graduation.

I talked with my daughter quite a bit about what has been happening. It involved her as well because the people I just met were here “people” biologically as well. I don’t think she was prepared for these talks but I know she walked away feeling better because now she had a few more answers that I could never give her before. The graduation was awesome, we were so happy for her because we know what an accomplishment it is to graduate. We spent the next few days with my daughter, doing different things, just her and I, it had been a long time since we got to just sit and shoot the shit together. The day came that it was time to head home, it was time to head back to Texas. I was out of energy, I was drained, and borderline torn if I needed to extend my trip so I could go to Idaho. Then, after a heated debate with myself, we drove back to Texas.

To this day I am close to my father (SF). He is close with all of my children. Until just weeks ago my 17 y/o daughter and my 12 y/o son didn’t know he was my step father. I had to explain so much to say so little. My son is looking forward to the trip to South Dakota to visit with people and to see the grave which bears the name of his grandfather which he has never met but was named after. It should be an interesting trip. My whole family will be involved this time in meeting all the biologicals, I’m told it will be a family reunion of sorts. I hope my wife and kids are up for the journey which is ahead of us. I will let y’all know if I was up to it when we get back. Until then, I guess this story is on pause. It’s not over, but it’s over for right now. I wonder what other people do when they try to explain their own family tree(s) to their kids. I bet allot of people are glad their roots aren’t so complicated.

When She Changed Her Mind

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It’s been a while since I’ve extracted an interview from my little black notebook. I find myself getting backlogged in my own crap at times with the things I do here at the blog. I suppose I was trying to make a seamless transition when combining everything together. But, as it works out, I think it is pretty much all straight or at least as straight as it can be. With that being said and other business being squared away I have dipped into the pages of my notebook. I was looking for something very specific after getting an e-mail from a pissed off teacher. It reminded me that I had been wanting to tell the story of a small town teacher who gives up everything, moves to Houston, and finds herself working at Club X. For those of y’all new to my blog(s) I will give a quick rundown. I was a bartender at a full nude strip bar here in Houston Texas. I’ve never been comfortable giving out the name of the club and when I write about it or my time there I will always refer to it as Club X. So, if you are new here just look to the right for the link that reads “Scorpion Sting’s Bartender Stories” and you will see a small selection of surviving stories. So many stories were lost when my Google account was killed off, I think there were a little over 300, I found and saved like 12 of them. If you are easily offended by adult language, adult situations, human anatomy, or talking about nude women, this might be the time for you to just like my post and leave unwounded and intact. Starting with the next paragraph I will begin with the story. Some of y’all might consider it to be a little graphic so closing of the eyes will be accepted. Y’all ready? Let’s GO!

Once upon a time in a small town in west Texas named Fabens there was a young lady who was a teacher. This teacher was born and grew up in Fabens. When she graduated high school Stacy left to attend Texas A & M University to study to get her teaching degree. She had hopes of teaching in the local elementary school back in Fabens. 4 1/2 years later she remembers walking into her 4th grade class for the first time. She recalls in order to explain that she grew up a very sheltered girl. She had scholastic interests which got in the way of dating in high school and had all of two failed relationships. When I asked her why she considered them failures she was real blunt with me. My first clue that she wasn’t going to be holding back. She said the first guy was nice enough. After a year or so he began pressing her for sexual relations and when she declined he walked away never saying another word to her. The second guy, she says with a giggle, is still in prison. Prison, why? On their 4th date he took her out to a deserted road, threatened her with a knife and told her the only way she will survive the night is if she fucks him until she passes out from exhaustion. Scared, she began to comply by slowly getting undressed. The whole time she was trying to figure out how to get away. She was sure she was about to have her virginity raped away from her. After she removed all of her clothes she pulled her legs back. She says that she was hoping to just distract him for one second. She aged him on a bit since he wasn’t moving very fast by telling him “here is what you are after so get to fucking”. Upset, he slapped her, cutting her lip open, and then he went to thrust into her for the first time. Somehow, she said, she ended up with the knife in her hand, and before his dick touched her she shoved a 7″ blade to the hilt straight up thru his balls into his abdomen. There was blood everywhere. She grabbed her clothes and took off running. She stopped when she got home. After explaining to her dad what happened he went looking for him. Fortunately he made it to the hospital emergency room so he was easy to find. He was sentenced 15 years for attempted rape and the battery of a minor with a deadly weapon, this all happened in 2007. Next thing she knew she was in college and then graduating. She has survived college and now wants to return to her hometown to teach. Which is where it all began.

One of her friends decided to not go to college and moved to Houston to see what life in the big city had to offer. Her friend found out real fast that money doesn’t grow on trees in the big city and she had better find a job fast or she would be living with the bums down on the bayou. She was able to avoid the typical fast food jobs and found herself working as the receptionist at Porsche dealership. She figured the only reason she got the job was because she had a nice smile and boobs. This job paid pretty good, started her out at $13.00 an hour which was decent for what she had to do, answer the phones, take messages, and direct the people traffic. She worked there around 3 years until one day she came into work and there was a new receptionist at her desk, she was blonder, had a nicer smile, and better boobs. When her friend asked questions she was told she had been laid off due to her position no longer being available. Was she pissed? Not really because she was pretty bored of the job anyway. On her way home she decided to go the back way because it was mid morning and the traffic would not be too bad. As she drove by Club X she saw a giant banner advertising a mud wrestling contest with a $10,000.00 grand prize for first place. She stopped in to get some details. She won the mud wresting matches and ended up being number one which meant she just got paid for doing something she was good at. She was offered a job and she took it. Not long after-words she invited Stacy to come visit her so they could catch up. It just so happened that it was spring break so Stacy decided what the hell. When she arrived in Houston to meet her friend, Sonia, she was amazed at how well things were working out for her. They had a grand day sight-seeing and going out to eat. Later in the evening they found themselves at a few different clubs to go dancing and drinking. They went back to Sonia’s house where they slept it all off. That night Sonia was getting ready to go to work and left an address for Stacy to come to later. She said it will be fun. Stacy was told to flirt with the bartender a bit and he will give her free drinks. When Stacy arrived at the address via taxi she called Sonia to verify she was at the right place, which was confirmed. Not knowing exactly what to think she went ahead and went in. She mentioned she was a friend of Sonia and she was escorted straight to the bar because Sonia let them know to expect her. From my point of view, Stacy looked very lost and very out-of-place, yet she fit in nicely. Stacy had asked me to point out Sonia’s location. At just the time I spotted her she was walking to the bar. They sat there and talked for a while and then it was time for Sonia to go to work. It was Sonia’s turn to dance on the stage which was also my bar. She put on one hell of a show, almost made me blush watching her.

Throughout the night Stacy stayed at the bar where she drank whatever I would put out in front of her. She recalls that I got her really drunk and wondered to herself what I wanted from her in return. When the night came to an end they both disappeared into the shadows to head home. Stacy says that Sonia convinced her to try out for a position on the team and test the waters a bit and see if she could make any money. But, she had a job she kept thinking. She figured what the hell because she was on vacation and quite simply nobody knew who she was anyway because she was so far from home. Stacy came in early and did an audition for the trainer and did an impressive job from what I understood. She was offered a provisional position for 2 weeks to see if she worked out or not. I explained what the “provisional position” stood for and meant in plain English. I had to tell her, I felt obligated to tell her that for the first couple of weeks she may think she is making allot of cash but what she takes home will be around 60% less since she will have to cash out every night. She remembers her first night as if it were last night. There was a heavy scent of alcohol, cigarettes, and sex in the club. The lights were bright and the music was so loud she felt every thump inside her body. The music began to speak to her, it began to inspire her, and she found the music released her inner stripping beast. She felt as if she was on fire and couldn’t wait to take off her clothes and had to remind herself that her job was to strip which meant slow the fuck down and enjoy herself. She explains that when she was on stage that as she looked out into the crowd that the lights created halos around everyone and it all became like a dream. She could not believe how excited she had become and she wanted to just continue dancing, never stopping. She danced on the stages only that first night and tells me that it was absolutely fucking amazing. The first night was an experience that she will not soon forget and she thinks about it when she is feeling down. When we were closing on her first night she was called to bar to settle up with her cash out. She had made $3,458.00 and after cashing out she was taking home $1,383.00 as her cut. She left a very happy camper, thinking that she made that amount of money in 5 hours of being at the club. She estimated that in 2 weeks she could take home close to $20,000.00 just for dancing and stripping her clothes to put on a fantasy show. Then reality set in, she had a job, she had a job teaching, a career which she spent allot of money to go to school for. Then she got to thinking, her teaching career will only yield $34,000.00 her first year there and this job would be estimated to make her well over $200,000.00 if she only worked part-time. She decided to finish out the week that she was off from school. On the day that she was to return she counted her earnings, she had made just shy of $11,000.00 and it made her think real hard about going home. Should she just say fuck it and stay? Should she say fuck the money and go back to teaching? Her friend chose to stay out of the thought process and keep quiet. Stacy had made her decision, she grabbed her bag and walked out the door.

The following Monday she arranged a meeting with the principal because she wanted to talk things over with her. After the formalities of the start of the meeting, Stacy presented the principal with her resignation, her keys, and her identification badge. When she was asked what she was going to do now, Stacy replied with a smile and said she is moving to Houston to make a better life for herself financially. She was asked if she will be needing a letter of reference and of course she declined putting them to any trouble since it wasn’t needed. She went home, her parents home where she had been living in her old bedroom to say money, and explained to her parents that she was moving to Houston and please don’t ask any questions. Then, just like that, she got in her car and made the trip back to Houston. When she arrived it was real late and Sonia wasn’t at home so Stacy figured she would pay her a surprise over at the club. She came in and walked up to my bar and asked for a shot of tequila. When I turned with the shot I realized who I was handing it to and to tell the truth, I was very surprised to see her sitting there. She had missed two nights of work and I wasn’t even sure if she still had a job. She planned ahead, she told the trainer she had an emergency back home in Fabens and would return in two days time. She headed off to the dressing rooms to get ready to get to work. She figured nobody was going to pay her to hang out at the bar and shoot the shit with me. I noticed during her first dance of the night that she was a changed person, no longer lost, no longer confused, and was ready to take like by the horns and ride it like she stole it. She said that she hadn’t felt so enthusiastic about anything else so far in her life, she was ready for the career change, the lifestyle change, and her personal change. Getting close to the end of our talk I had to ask her what it was like for a small town girl who considered herself sheltered to be here dancing, to be here stripping, to be here with the purpose of being naked. Her answer surprised the shit out me to be honest. She said for the first time in her life she was in control, she controlled what people thought of her, she controlled what people thought they wanted for her, and she enjoyed the absolute rush of taking a guy to the extremes and back leaving his head spinning wondering what in the fuck just happened. Plus, she wanted a piece of the money that was being offered here. She loves the game of mind-fucking the men to the point where they don’t care how much money they are putting on the table. When I personally quit the club and quit bartending, Stacy had been there about six months or so. She never really changed from having that small town charm. When she danced she owned your mind and she knew it, that is what made her so good at it.