Why So Fucking Serious?

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If you ever want trouble, come between an addict and her coffee. If you ever want to witness a coffee meltdown, fuck up my wife’s order at the local coffee chain outlet near our home. Oh yes, it happened, and I write today to maybe help myself understand why coffee zombies, my wife included,  go from zero to ballistic in .000001 seconds when their overpriced coffee crack is not prepared in a manner of perfection fitting for their standards. But, before I tell you a little story, let me just re-address the fact that there are a handful of places I absolutely refuse to go because I can’t fucking stand the mere thought of going inside. I don’t go with my wife or for my wife, hell no, fuck that shit, the people that work in these places are fucking rude, anal, and have lost their damn minds. I tend not to promote things or places I detest, so we not say the names of a national chain of make-up stores, the mall, or the national chain of coffee stores be written about today. Y’all are smart, figure it out. Let’s just say I have almost been divorced twice for my refusal to enter particular places of business.

Anyway, my wife has a ritual, on paydays each month, she pays the coffee monsters big bucks so her cravings can be satisfied. This means she gets high dollar coffee crack four times a month and on other special occasions. The rest of the month she fakes it with the little brew cups and different flavoured creamers. So, I get looking forward to something. We all have things we like and look forward to having, but coffee drinkers are fucking different, very different. I know the week is drawing to a close because her claws and fangs become more pronounced. So, let me explain what almost sparked the spring skirmish of 2017.

Yesterday my wife is on her way to work, making the ritual pitstop to get her blah blah blah mocha fucked up size name coffee. After waiting behind 12 or so cars she tells the speaker box the kind of coffee she wants. She says it in a fashion to which one would believe he is witnessing a line from a foreign film being spoken. It’s almost erotic in a way, especially coming from a person who lives in southeast Texas and can neither speak or understood one word in Spanish. Needless to say, after money has exchanged hands and she goes to take her first sip, it the wrong coffee. These fools have given her a cup of coffee with another person’s name written on the side. Bastards! How dare they do this inconsiderate and uncaring thing to her. Instantaneously​ mad now, she wants the blood, the balls, and this motherfucker’s first born for this fuck up. The nerve!

Of course this has to be resolved in a lady like, very polite manner, and she is in such a big hurry that she returns to the line of cars which is twice as long now. It’s the principal I’m told, she should not have to go inside to unfuck their overpriced coffee mistake. I’m, okay then. Here’s the kicker, when she finally arrived at the window, the spoiled little cunt sees the cup with my wife’s name on it sitting there all lonely and actually tried to hand it to her. How dare this bitch try to give her a coffee that was carefully crafted a mere 23 minutes ago, I mean, really bitch? All sarcasm aside, that girl is lucky their hands never touched because my wife would have dragged her out of the little window and gave her a stern talking to. Now a manager has arrived on scene to diffuse the “altercation”. She solves this entire thing buy re-making her coffee, up-sizing it for her, even adding sprinkles and whipped cream, and the refunding her $6 plus dollars. To top it off, since she knows my wife is a long time loyal patron, she gives he a gift card in equivalence to 30 days of free coffee made in the manner she prefers. That’s the equivalent to just shy of a $200 value for those of y’all counting at home.

So, it’s all been taken care of, right? Wrong! Why? Because I get to hear about the whole fucking thing for a second time once she got home. Also, had to listen to her talk and angry text on her phone the rest of the night. Now, I know it seems as though I am petty and don’t care about her problems, but it’s just fucking coffee. Don’t ever try to tell a coffee person it’s just “coffee” and expect to survive. Now I get to fight with my wife because I failed to take all of this bullshit serious one little bit. Oh, trust me when I tell y’all that it has escalated beyond an “I’m sorry” at this point, there may be big trouble brewing now. I know I’m a bastard for not taking this seriously, but how can I?

The image above was borrowed from the internet, a Google search more specifically, and do not have permission to use it today, tomorrow, or any other day. Oddly enough, I Googled “coffee zombie” and it was one of the results. I liked the look and decided to use it. If it belongs to you and you can prove it in writing I will gladly give you credit or remove it upon your request.

 

You Visited Here Looking For Hamsters?

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I really don’t want to sound ungrateful that a search engine “sometimes” might be more than a little misleading when listing my blog or one of my posts in the search results. That’s what we do, right, we search the Internet for the topic we seek and weed through the results, right? Well, I know that is how I do it anyway. I received a very interesting email from a new follower who was sent here by “mistake” thanks to Internet search results. She says she was looking for information on hamsters such as health issues, lifespan, care, and habitat. She says she was very excited to see, in the search results, that someone had done a blog post about the very things she had questions about. To say she was disturbed and equally disappointed when she started reading would be a grand understatement because the post she read was about how I raised gerbils and hamsters as live food for my snakes. The post did, however, cover the information she was seeking, as I had written about the quality of the small mammals as a great protein packed meal which was very safe and clean for reptiles such as pythons to consume. I did write about habitat, diseases, lifespan, and how I raised them as a food source, not as pets.

As she continued to read the post she explained that she became oddly intrigued by my “writing style” and how I seemed to care for my animals. Becoming sidetracked now, she began to read other posts and came to the conclusions that this blog wasn’t exactly about hamsters at all, that it was just some guy writing about different things in his life. Which is true, real life beats fiction hands down every single fucking time. But, her email wasn’t all about blowing rose petals up my skirt, she also had a few very direct questions about my “content”. As polite as she was, she had a point to make. Her main one was that she likes the way I paint the picture, how I try to place the reader in the ” scene “, but can in my words that I limit what or how I say things which kills the whole story for her. Not everyone has a great graphic imagination, if they can’t ” see” it then it is hard to follow for many. She continued to explain she sees that I have written about my haters a bit, reminding me she is a fan and not a hater, before she says that I should write to share, yes, but on my terms, not the haters.

Long story short, there is something to be learned here in the twisted way life gives lessons and that is that you will never know what is behind door #1 if you don’t open the damn door. So very true here as it is in life. Here she came looking for something about hamsters and found out that they are a proper food source for pythons as well as great little pets. She tells me she likes the bartender stories, although she has only read a few, and what I’ve written about the VA since she has a few family members that have all but given up on their own fight. I guess the moral to this whole story is about scratching past the surface, peeling back the layers, and maybe find something you had no intention looking for in the first place. I mean, that is the reason we search the internet is it not, looking for something we didn’t know. Often I wish life itself had a search button, but then life would be to easy wouldn’t it. In fact, I’ve been wondering lately if life smokes after it fucks me or is life just a smiler, waiting for gratitude for the hard screw. I will probably never know!

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.

Talk About A Ghost From Christmas Past

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I really hate the fact that I have begun to think in the terms of my elders, but at times they have it too right to ignore. It takes a certain kind of lowlife douchebag to steal property which belongs to others, no matter their reasoning or justifications. There’s something broken within their morality meter which allows them to cross the forbidden line between right and wrong. Yesterday I was reminded that many laws are designed to better protect the criminal than the victims. Yesterday I received a letter from the state of Texas which informed me that Mr. Lowlife Douchebag III (his real name will never be spoken by my lips here) is scheduled for release from state incarceration in November 2014 after successfully meeting state parole requirements. Why is this information important to me personally? I will explain that in a minute since the incident happened back in this blogs literal infancy and I have never mentioned it here before in any kind of detail.

Late in the evening seven years, nine months, and three days or 2,834 days ago, we were settling down after just returning from a get together with my in-laws. After looking at the time, we had realized it will be Christmas Day in a few short hours. When we came in the house for the first time our hands were full, so after setting down all the food and bags, I returned to the truck to get the everything else. It was at this time I first noticed wet foot prints on the driveway and an out of place shadow where they ended at just the edge of where the light reached. I continued to the driver’s side of the truck, opened the door, reached into the center console, and retrieved my pistol. I remained bent across the seat, looking out behind me, waiting for movement. After a very long couple of minutes, I climbed back out of the truck and walked to the edge of the drive, and then I saw the shadow blink. Before I knew what was happening I had this man pinned to the ground with a pistol pointed at his forehead. Many moments passed while I stared into the eyes of this man, many thoughts passed in my mind, and then my wife’s voice broke the silence. Hearing the noise she came out, thinking I had dropped something or tripped. I will never forget the look of fear on her face as she looked in our direction. She went back inside swiftly and called 911.

It was thirteen minutes from the time she made the call before I saw the flashing lights come blazing up the driveway. The two cars pulled very close to where I was standing, four officers emerged and stood behind their open doors with weapons drawn, demanding I relinquish my weapon. I froze, I am the one who is making sure the douchebag does not run. I was confused. Moments later I was on the ground, I was rushed from behind, I can hear my wife screaming at them in terror. All I can think is it is Christmas Eve. We were both arrested. I was released early Christmas morning after being cleared of any criminal activity and establishing myself as home and property owner. After processing, my pistol was released back into my custody. Months later he was convicted of attempted armed robbery, armed trespassing after dark with intent to cause harm to persons and property, and finally with the possession of a stolen firearm.

The number one question I have been asked is why I did not shoot and kill this man because the right to do so with my actions protected by Texas laws. Why? Why is a powerful question. My answer has always been simple and has always remained unchanged. Shooting him to kill him never crossed my mind, never even close. It’s not my nature, no matter what, a human life is more valuable to me than things or property, and, eventhough I felt threatened, there was other options which I executed which defused the threat. In the end, I have a conscience which seems to always guide my actions. Yes, I was and remain to this day, mad. The lessons I have learned in my life have served me well and they have taught me that I am not the judge or jury, but just a human being on planet dirt trying to scratch out some kind of a life, like everyone else I can only assume. As far as his release, it isn’t my place to know if he is rehabilitated or not in the allotted time prescribed by the state of Texas. I do know, this experience was a part of the reason I have the security system I still use this very day. I may have lost faith along the way in my fellow humans, but at the same time the safety and security of myself and my family remains very high on my personal list if priorities. Its hard to say live and let live when the idea is more often than not, one sided. Below is a general look at the laws here in Texas, it should not be looked at or taken as any form of legal advice as I put it here for informational purposes only.

Texas law allows a person to use force in the protection of property to prevent or terminate another’s trespass or other unlawful interference with the possession of real or personal property. Deadly force can be used in Texas when the crime against property is classified as arson, burglary, robbery, criminal mischief at night or theft at night. Deadly force may also be used to prevent a person from fleeing with property immediately after the commission of a burglary, robbery, aggravated robbery, or theft during the nighttime if the actor believes that the property cannot be recovered by any other means or the use of force other than deadly force would expose the person to a substantial risk of death or serious bodily injury.

Texas also allows a person to use force and deadly force to protect the personal property of a third party. The use of force is permissible if the person believes that the force or deadly force is necessary to prevent the commission of theft or criminal mischief, or if the person believes that the third party has asked them to protect the property, the person has a legal duty to protect the property, or the third party is the spouse, parent, child or under the care of the person using force.

Born, raised, and protected by guns, guts, and glory.

The Man Behind Colorblind Eyes

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This morning I was doing something I rarely like doing myself because there is always a risk of mistakes being made. Typically I try to never attempt to identify colors unless I have someone close to confirm or deny my observations. However, today I about screwed the pooch because I forget I am one impatient son of a bitch. I sit here now, outside my shop, smoking a few cigarettes, reflecting on my mistake. Mistake? What mistake? Well, let’s start from the beginning, that will probably be the easiest for y’all to follow. The other day I fried (cooked off) the circuit board which controlled the propane release actuators for my pit smoker. Meaning, it developed an electrical short which resulted in catching the electronic starter box to burst into flames. As a result, the controls were literally fried. Since I built it originally I decided to start over and make it again. I had a few ideas that would improve its functions by updating the style if relays and timers being used. I had all the parts, all recycled from other things which have been recently scrapped, such as an old deep fryer and thermostat. I had already removed the steel box from the smoker and gutted everything that was charred, which was absolutely everything.

I was supposed to wait til tonite to have my 12 y/o son help me out because he wanted yo learn how to soder circuit boards and make permenant wire connections. But……………. I am an impatient man. I don’t like waiting. Plus, I needed to test out my new design to see if it will work and function. Then tonight I would let him make me a pretty box. So, that was the plan anyway. The layout took about ten minutes, the assembly took about ten minutes, and soldering took about ten minutes. This is a 12 volt system using a deep cycle marine battery. It also required heavier gauged wire to carry the load but also serves as better insulation against the high heat the assembly is exposed to. Time to test. Ready. Set. Go. Press the button. Nothing happened. Its dead to the world. Then I notice the assembly wasn’t grounded so I grab the wire and attached it to my metal table which is earth grounded outside. Take two. Now leaning on the table to view the operation I push the button once again. Then, instant pain. FUCK THAT HURTS! After I stopped jumping around in pure pain, after I could focus my vision again, after I wiped away my tears, I see I use a live wire to ground it all out resulting in an electrical charge being applied to the metal table which I was meaning on with bare skin. Did I mention how bad that fucking hurts?

After some minor wire changes it was retested and now works flawlessly. Later I will tweak the arrangement a little and let it sit until my son gets home from school. Because now I think I will just sit here. Its nice the tingling has stopped or I may have had problems writing all of this down. Its a nice day too, so maybe I will have a swim in the pond, or maybe just sit here in my old blue rocker where its safe.