A Man Attracted to Me Sexually…Again…

It’s been a long time since this has happened. Years, in fact. I’ve known this man for a brief period and we have established a friendship–a good one. Hmmm…

This is a bit dicey. Actually, what I am going to say next; this may be a bit dicey too?

Women are (or can be) very emotional. Men? Well, sure. They can be too but in my experience in terms of “sex” and sexual attraction and relationships? Not the same. I don’t like to make generalisations but…?

Sorry. This may sound terrible but women are so much more emotional than men. However, as a caveat, I will admit that I am extremely more emotional when it comes to sexual or romantic relationships (as a woman?)

So I went out to dinner with my friend. Whom I am apparently his object of attraction. This was not “news.” There is a “history,” if you will. He is…well, a bit of a “high performer.” I won’t say “Type A.” Do you know where I am going?

Maybe not.

Basically, he needs a good spanking…

PA can do that. We both know that. Not that BDSM involves sex. No. However, he’s really…oh…fuck. Yes, “fuck.” Yes, he’d really like to “go the distance.” But he knows that PA is gay and she’d never sleep with him.

I’m no stranger to the BDSM “Scene.” Many reasons for that…long story…but ultimately I fell into it by accident. Nonetheless, I was an observer at the clubs but it is still a part of me. Yes, oooh…aaah…PA has a penchant for BDSM! Shall we all fall over and die???

I am really a submissive. That is when (gee, I wish?) I am with a woman but I can and also be a “switch.” Also with a woman. I will Dominate her. That thrills me as well.

With a man? It can depend upon certain factors and again…everything always needs to be negotiated. The Cardinal Rules are: Safe, Sane and Consensual.

However, I’ve always found men are so easy…

Example. To start? This might work.

“Get down on your knees you pathetic piece of shit!”

Oh, boy!

BOY.

Why can’t I find a girl to play with me like this?

The Devil in the Bottle Part II

PA, YOU STUPID FUCK.

Oh, I’m paying for it now.

Mood = ↓

I’ve even been contemplating cutting! Oh, for joy!

I’m trying to ascertain if I had a bit of mood cycling, winginess over the last 24 hours but does it really matter? For here is where I sit. Stuck. Last night is over. Still, I was either pretty ADD hyper or Bipolar hypomanic. My energy levels just seemed way out of range. Hell, I could have been both! I’m not kidding. Let’s hear it for the fun of comorbidities. However, now that I’ve plummeted…? Ugh.

I’ve just taken my sleep meds and it’s ridiculously early. Don’t know what to do with myself (except keep screaming in my head what an absolute asshole I am.) I know, I know…maybe a lot of you reading out there might be joining in as the chorus?

I’ve also got good old “Mercyfuck” by Mary Prankster ringing away as a non-stop earworm as well. It’s a great one when you feel you’ve completely screwed everything all to hell and the world totally blows. It must surely hold the world’s record for someone singing/saying, “Fuck” the most times in any single song. No…Mary says, “Fuck” a lot in it. It’s a great song, though. I’d actually listen to it but it would just make me more depressed.

There’s no point. I mean, “fuck,” I’ve got it memorised anyway!

I could write more but it’s all rather muddled and pointless at the moment. And yes…comments pending. One of Anna’s is a bit longer so I would like to be clear for that.

MP3 of the Moment and Some Motivation

Well, I managed to get some work done–not so much around my flat but priorities? No, “Fix Me Up” has been neglected and well, my flat is always being neglected.  Not to mention, I finally established contact with P. whom I met while in hospital last year and we are finally going to get together! We’re meeting for dinner tonight.  I used that as some motivation and a “reward” for getting some work done.

So, speaking of “neglecting” things…MP3 of the Moment has really just been sitting there untouched for a very long time.  I’ve been thinking I should do some more “Series” types like I used to do a while back?

On that note (pun intended…)

Some Psychobilly, anyone? Here we go with a trio by The Cramps.  I did post a YouTube of “What’s Inside a Girl” a long time ago so I won’t stream that one.

And one is “profane” as you will see by the title.  I generally tend to warn people so they won’t get their knickers in a knot if they click on the link for a song.

Networking and More?

LATER EDIT: It was so late when I got home so I just tossed this up but it definitely gets a bit more graphic in the comment section! So, warning! Try not to get too scared if you read further! Profanity and sex talk!

This is taking away from what I wanted to write about regarding what happened on Friday. I can’t help it. This is just too much. I don’t know if this falls under the “Only In The Life of PA Files” or not.

So, in my job trials and tribulations (and this probably isn’t news to anyone in the professional world) things have changed. It is all about “Networking.” Well, how about “Networking” with…an…ahem…attractive…ahem…drunken…executive…?

Oh, dear.

Well, to begin, PA was not drunk (but she sure ended up at the end of the night–she bloody well needed to be!)

It all started innocently enough, as they say. Talking with a woman…she was there with her husband. Fine. She says I am beautiful. Sure. I’m wearing a ball cap, jeans etc… You get the picture. She was very attractive. I told her the same.

We were both rather insecure about the compliments but she seemed more mental about it than I was. Perhaps because of the alcohol? I later found out from her husband that she is, quote: “All over the place.” Hmmm…mental case?

Regardless. We somehow ended up talking about work and how I was made redundant, what she does and her company and how she was looking for someone and what I did/can do etc… She said she would interview me immediately even though I said I was still trying to put a decent resume together after being out of the job market for so many years. She said she didn’t care after hearing about what I could do.

I even went a step further that may not be “acceptable” and asked about salary and benefits. Wow. Okay. Pretty good.

So I grabbed some paper (we were in a bar for fucking sake) and gave her all of my contact information. Thankfully, since she was rather wrecked, it ended up in her husband’s pocket. He was definitely sober and we talked about it. He said he would talk to her about it later and…? Well, I guess I shall wait for a call? I said to him that there was no rush as I had some things coming up with my job training/sessions so I would be busy, however, I was definitely interested.

There was a bit of a concern on my part about the commute, though. He said she works from this hour to this hour…what if you want to share a ride with her? Oh…did I forget to mention that they live a block or so away from me? Yes…we live on the same street!

Oh…and she also deals with a client that we both know from my…sorta, kinda…ex-employer…

Small world.

Now, this is where things get fucked. To keep it brief, I’m gay, some sex talk, I kissed a potential employer?

Again, only in the world of PA?

EDIT: Oh, the talk… *rolls eyes* I kept trying to tone it down and saying well, we’ll talk about that AFTER the interview and should I get hired…?

Pissed At WP AGAIN!!!

Why the fuck will it not upload my images that have been shot vertically from my digital camera but it uploads the horizontal ones just tickety-fuckin’-boo! It uploads them if they were horizontal so they are all rotated 90° and look stupid (obviously.)

I don’t know how long I have been bloody well arseing around trying to post this, fuck with their little buttons, go to their FUHQ page for help and also screw around with my next-to-nil HTML knowledge within the post itself. Oh yeah, I also went to page source and whee! CSS!? I didn’t even bother with that shite and I couldn’t modify it anyway?

If anyone has a goddamn clue, please let me know.

And yes, everything is showing, viewing, saving and la-de-fucking-da on my Mac properly. I even tried saving in the horizontal manner that WP was uploading them in to see if it liked it that way but nope.

Laters,
Pissed PA

Your Tits Are Now A Threat To National Security

I was sick over the weekend and as a result, haven’t had a chance to catch up on any “news items” such as this lovely piece of work. I linked to a blog as, well…shameful as it is, I kind of don’t want it to sink into the archives as some of the other charming “news stories” that I’ve occasionally mentioned.

So erm…yes. This woman had to yank out her goddamn nipple ring with a set of–believe it or not–pliers. Yes, how does that “grab” you? They set off a metal detector at the airport and they wouldn’t let her board the plane. She did manage to get the one out but the other was being a bit stubborn?

Now, I don’t have any piercings. Well, my ears are pierced but I honestly can’t remember the last time I actually even bothered to put a pair of earrings in. Beyond that? Body piercings really aren’t for me and I can’t imagine having my nipples pierced (or anything else!) as it would really hurt? And yanking something out of my breast with a tool that they may have just used to repair that 767 sitting out on the tarmac?

Well, I suppose having your bellybutton pierced may not be that bad. And yes…she was allowed to get on with that. Uh huh.

So your tits are a danger but your stomach is okay.

Fuck, I have a bonded retainer on my bottom teeth at the front. It’s left over from when I was a teenager and it was a quickie preventative measure as I had braces on the top. By having the bonded retainer “installed” (it’s basically a small metal wire on the back of my teeth!) I wouldn’t need braces. Well…if they need me to remove it because my teeth are a danger… Whoa, I’m pretty well screwed, chewed and barbecued! I need a dentist to help do that!

A set of pliers? My teeth?

I change my mind. I’d rather rip out my nipple rings in front of the whole bloody airport on Christmas Day than try and remove my bonded retainer with a set of pliers!

Still, not to make light…this whole thing is so out of control.

Hey! After I Become A Man, I’ve Got A Great Excuse To Commit Adultery!

Oh, I just found this but no doubt all the media pundits/bloggers have been all over it since it happened.

Prologue: “Dr.” Laura (Laura Schlessinger) is more of a fucking whackjob than I could EVER be!

This may not be news to any of you out there.

Whoo boy.

Here we have the first lovely clip that ran on the Today show where our…I don’t even know what to call her…gets into a bit of a “theory” about perhaps why Spitzer/Shitzer went astray. You see, it was all Silda’s fault…well, so some people are interpreting it *PA rolls eyes* Regardless, whenever a man does go astray: it is the woman’s fault.

Oh, fuck. Make that that WIFE’S fault. I’ve got to find a name for her…okay…”Useless Tit.” Useless Tit would never approve of anything other than a God-Sanctioned-Hetero-Union. I should have said, “Wife.”

But the above clip gets kind of funky and it turns into a weird sort of clusterfuck (now Useless Tit would never approve of that!) There is this other panel of “experts” (including Jim McGreevey’s ex-wife Dina Matos…) and well, you’ll just have to watch it yourself. Not to mention, Useless Tit gets a little Freudian on you re: men learning their first connections to heterosexual relationships from Mommy…thus, if Wifey doesn’t nurture them, everything goes to hell in a brothel, right?

And you know? I thought I heard in a clip that Useless Tit had some advice for the Spitzer daughters (I won’t call them Shitzers.) Did Useless Tit say the same thing about them with Daddy? That they, and all other little girls, develop their heterosexual learnings from their fathers? I may have been hallucinating after listening to this shit for so long, however.

Either way, good fucking lord. Oops. Useless Tit wouldn’t want me taking “The Lord (Hallelujah!)’s” name in vain now, would she?

In the second clip here that ran on Fox, Useless Tit tries to do some weird ass back pedalling garbage like she’s getting all Freudian on herself and trying to masturbate her id, super-ego and ego all at the same time. Useless Tit tried to pull the same useless (tit) stunt later on Today but look out! In this clip, Useless Tit starts whipping out actual diagnoses for philanderers! No. I am not kidding. And how that all factors into the fucking around, the relationships and “Wifey’s” role.

Still, if I ever do become a man, I guess I’ve got my excuse all rolled up tightly thanks to Useless Tit. I just have to get married and say my wife is a complete dud, won’t fuck me like I want or do anything like I want! Then I’ll be off the hook and be able to screw as many other women as I’d like!

Unreal.

Now, I really think I need a drink. Or several.

Ah…and obviously the question that needs to be asked here is, what if the husband is not fulfilling his “dutiful” role? Can his “wife” go out and find some guy and bang his brains out senseless? Or even better, Useless Tit? Can she go find a woman and do it with her!!!

You Know Winter’s Bad When…

…you now have “Snow Rage!”

Yes, this is true. I am not making it up. However, I do believe it is a new (perhaps relatively?) phenomenon. Now we all know of “Road Rage,” ah yes…now there is “Air Rage.” Am I missing anything else? Any other “Ragey” situations that seem to be on the rise?

There could be “Workplace Rage” but maybe that really isn’t anything new. However, I don’t recall seeing anything violent actually happen–just a lot of yelling, sniping, backstabbing and food throwing across boardroom tables during endless, unproductive meetings where nothing ever gets resolved anyway. Oh, and there might be some “BlackBerry Rage” out there. I’m not sure as I don’t have one and really don’t care but I know some people who have them–or don’t have them.

Yes, “BlackBerry Rage.” I think there are multiple forms of this too:

• Fucking sore thumbs! Well, and sore crinkly fingers too!
• HR Department Health and Safety folks because of all of the RSI (Repetitive Strain Injury) issues because of the fucking sore thumbs and sore crinkly fingers!
• Unbelievable eyestrain, thus everyone needing corrective lenses or bloody bifocals prior to age 38!
• Health and Benefits Claims People for filing all of the paperwork for employees because of all of the above!
• People who are addicted to them and won’t look at you when you talk to them because they’re too busy typing madly away because they are sooooo important!
• People hating to have one because it’s like a bloody ball and chain to their workplace!
• People hating others that have ones because they don’t and they’re jealous!

I don’t know if that covers everything but maybe it’s enough?

So, enough about all the different forms of “Raginess” out there…let’s move ahead to “Snow Rage.”

However, I must first tell you that as Canadians, we really are not this violent!

And moving on to other interesting news, may I direct you to this excellent piece at Dame Wiggins Of Lee’s blog.

On a more serious note, I do find the story of the woman in the bathroom quite sad and disturbing. Obviously she had some serious mental health issues and needed urgent attention. That is just what makes the whole thing so out of this world, absurd!

Happy Birthday PA…

Yes, on this day I was born. In 1970 at 1203hrs I was popped out of the womb to greet the universe weighing app. 6.5lbs.

PA is still not sure if that is a good thing or not.

So yes, doing the math, I am 38 years old today providing I can make this blog post by midnight. You see, I stopped off at the pub (how ironic since I posted about self medication yesterday…) But come on! It’s my birthday, right? A bit of leeway? Should I Categorize this under “Self Medication” or under “Celebration”–a Category that doesn’t exist?

Anyway, my birthday circulated around the pub as I (as usual) sat there quietly and a couple of Stolis (neat, of course!) turned into…? Oh, dear. I was rather concerned about getting home to a telephone call that I knew would be coming from my mother. The reason I was concerned was after this unbelievable bloody bullshit that went down last fall, maybe I should be around on my birthday, Christmas? Lord knows she rarely calls other than those times. She left a message on my landline but then called my cell while I was at the pub. Blah…blah…blah.. Sorry, mom..I’m at the pub…I’m outside in a blizzard…can we cut this short, in your own (in denial) Bipolar state? I’m freezing!

Okay, PA, love you!

Sure, mom.

Anyway, a good day today? A couple of emails that were nice. One from my sister that I replied to and then she replied back to me again. I couldn’t respond back later in the afternoon but it actually had me laughing out loud at my desk. Oh, it was great!

Another from an old work colleague from the idiots (to put it SO politely…) that sacked me for being a loony about seven years ago. No, it’s my birthday. They’re a goddamn bunch of pisswipe motherfuckers that have their heads so far up their asses that they can’t even see their own faeces because they are so inept and blind they can’t even “spell” faeces.

Actually. They can’t even spell shit. No, they can’t even spell “it.”

I’m sorry. It was a lovely email from my ex-colleague. He is a lovely man.

I actually have been planning what I wanted to write for my “birthday email” for a while. Apart from all the “Happy Birthday” joviality bullshit (oh, sorry…I really don’t care about my birthday–but I do appreciate anyone else that cares–it’s a funny dichotomy.)

So here’s the deal. I streamed this song a while ago for my biological father. However, I didn’t go into some lyrical dissection or interpretation–at least how it resonates to me. I’m not going to stream it again. I’m going to put the YouTube up to actually keep it here.

Also, the lyrics here I have edited as these are for the singe version that I have but they don’t match the Tube. Good enough though. Okay, I’ll try and do this… Well, I might tear up a bit. That’s okay though. I’ve done it before while thinking about doing this for a while!

Cloudbusting by Kate Bush

I still dream of Organon.

Orgonon is a reference to Wilhelm Reich, a controversial psychiatrist and psychoanalyst. Okay…not so much but a wee bit of crazy mommy? Not bio-daddy, though.

I wake up cryin’.
You’re making rain,
And you’re just in reach,
When you and sleep escape me.

This is a direct reference to when I found out about him. Crying, making rain as tears. My mental state was completely fucked as I had just been hospitalized for the second time so thinking about him was what the hell…? You are barely just in reach? Who are you and literally sleep is escaping me!

You’re like my yo-yo
That glowed in the dark.
What made it special
Made it dangerous,
So I bury it
And forget.

This came later as I learned to “accept” it (cough, cough.) Yes, a child…my childhood…you are special but you are “dangerous!” However, I feel you are special because you are my “daddy” but you are “taboo!” No one will talk to me except non-bio dad asshole who I caught in a lie and my sister who knows so little so FUCK IT! I have no choice to shut my stupid mouth and that’s it!

But every time it rains,
You’re here in my head,

The chorus is tough but to start, it always rains so he is always in my head; he is always on my mind.

Like the sun coming out–
Ooh, I just know that something good is gonna happen.
And I don’t know when,
But just saying it could even make it happen.

Initially, this part is a reference to my mother and the hopefulness that someday I might get something out of her…god, some more information about him…anything!

About the chorus being more complicated, the juxtaposition of the rain and the sun, I feel it represents the conflict that my mother had to endure with having an affair and an “illegitimate” child. Rain vs. Sun. Further to that, I have taken her feelings upon my shoulders.

On top of the world,
Looking over the edge,

This is my biological father being happy.

You could see them coming.
You looked too small
In their big, black car,
To be a threat to the men in power.

This is my biological father getting in serious shit for what he did. He was a Pakistani servant that fucked a Western Woman in 1969! Do you KNOW how much trouble he could have gotten into?!

I hid my yo-yo
In the garden.
I can’t hide you
From the government.

Oh, god, I would have hidden him and given him a safe haven if I could have!

Oh, God, Daddy–
I won’t forget.

NEVER.

‘Cause every time it rains,
You’re here in my head,
Like the sun coming out–
Ooh, I just know that something good is gonna happen.
And I don’t know when,
But just saying it could even make it happen.

As above.

And every time it rains
You’re here in my head
Like the sun coming out.
Your son’s coming out.

Okay, I’m not a boy but it might be kind of interesting as my mother may have had (probably…) a miscarriage during her first trimester. By some accounts the male foetus will miscarry more than the female but that may or may not be true. Either way I might have had a twin. Still, your son/daughter–me, is coming out–just like the sun.

Ooh, I just know that something good is gonna happen.
And I don’t know when,
But just saying it could even make it happen.

Ooo-ohh, just saying it could even make it happen.

E-yeah yeah yeah yeah yo-ohhhhhhhhhh

I’m Couldbusting Daddy.

If you could just see me now…I know you would be proud of me and love me. I would feel the same way about you.

E-yeah yeah yeah yeah yo-ohhhhhhhhhh

E-yeah yeah yeah yeah yo-ohhhhhhhhhh

Your son’s coming out.
Your son’s coming out.

The Birth Of The F.O.A.D.

Correct, as per yesterday’s post, it rhymes with “toad.” Pronounce it the same. F.O.A.D. …toad!

Oh, Mac Guru and I have had some laughs with this one over time. Although, the F.O.A.D.© is not a laughing matter. Oh, no. However, sometimes you don’t know whether to laugh, or to cry, so you endeavor to achieve the former.

Our conversations via email, or in person when we could get together would generally go like this:

PA: “So, how did it go this time?”

Mac Guru: “Ah, another F.O.A.D.”

PA: “Oh, I’m sorry.”

Mac Guru: “Yeah, well…”

You see, Mac Guru had been out of work for a long time. Whenever he would apply for a job, if he even managed to get a response from a prospective employer, when they weren’t interested any form of notification was given the esteemed name of the F.O.A.D.

F.O.A.D. stands for “Fuck Off And Die.”

Well, you’ll be happy to know that poor Mac Guru finally found employment. However, the tables turned several years ago, and PA had to deal with her fair share of F.O.A.D.s in the same manner. I’ll get to that after I sort of deviate for a moment–or longer–in my typical, rambly manner.

I was thinking outside the job application realm, and where else one might experience a F.O.A.D. I suppose, in your personal life? I’m trying to recall…have I ever been on the receiving end of a F.O.A.D. from someone in my personal life? Well, perhaps?

Friendships were always so difficult when I was young! As an adult? I don’t know if any of my ex-partners ever gave me a F.O.A.D. No, getting dumped was always painful. Absolutely! Still, I don’t think casting a F.O.A.D. in my direction crossed any of their mind/s.

I don’t think any adult friends have F.O.A.D.-ed me, either. No, I would like to think they would have been more mature than that, and have simply just…I don’t know…haven’t seemed to have been around, or available. Some adult “friends” in my life really just turned out to be acquaintances anyway so that’s different. If you see them, it’s casual, but if you don’t–even if it’s for ages–it doesn’t matter. That’s non-F.O.A.D.-able. It doesn’t make sense as the relationships don’t carry enough merit for a F.O.A.D.

So, probably the worst F.O.A.D. that bowled me over takes us back to the business world. This award winning F.O.A.D. came from the people that fired me for being mentally ill. Of course they didn’t actually use that as the reason, but everyone knew the score! Oh, don’t you agree? That’s one clanger, isn’t it?

F.O.A.D! F.O.A.D! F.O.A.D!

It was truly awful, and so traumatic. PA works hard. She’s never been fired from a job! Well, she never had been up until that point! The manager and I started at the company together, and we were friends. Hmmm. That’s maybe a “Combo F.O.A.D!” Business and friendship!

I guess you might now be thinking, ‘Does PA issue F.O.A.D.s?’ No. F.O.A.D.s are not PA’s style at all! Although…I was pretty tempted to hurl a rebound F.O.A.D. right back at those bloody, discriminatory, ignorant, insensitive, immature, assholes that tossed me out the door like a sack of trash. I didn’t, though.

On the fun front, I was kind of wanting to F.O.A.D. something at work the other day. Things were all screwy, and…not working! In jest, I sent an email to a colleague completely full of inside jokes regarding a job responsibility that we both deal with, and laugh about all the time! I got really F.O.A.D.-y in my silly email.

This isn’t so fun. Last night, I pretty much wanted to give my headphones a great big F.O.A.D. as after all of the problems I’ve already had, they finally “went.” I started losing sound in the right ear.

Unbelievable! If I wiggled the cord, tilted my head just slightly to the left, it seemed to be alright. If I took a breath? Bye, sound!

After work today, I dragged my sorry excuse for a human body* down to the chichi store where I bought them. I thought I might have received a F.O.A.D from the sales guy I first encountered when I went in to moan about how unhappy I was. I launched into my speech as he sat with a stone face, and then told me to go to the “Service Desk.” Like, service as in repairs. No, that’s not what I want.

I spoke to the woman there and she definitely didn’t give me a F.O.A.D., but it took some finesse to (hopefully) get what I wanted. Let’s just hope that Sennheiser doesn’t give me a big F.O.A.D.!!! She is going to send them back to Sennheiser (not for a repair as she originally suggested–I told her I didn’t want the same model–repaired or not!) and see if they would just take them back, fix and repair, return to store…whatever. If so, I can then get the balance of the price as a credit and buy something else! Oh, that is definitely not a F.O.A.D.

The only bummer is, now I am stuck without headphones. I tried to use my earbuds that came with my iPod but it was terrible. Ouch, they hurt…kept falling out…

I guess my ears might have been giving a couple of F.O.A.D.s to the earbuds?

* - I am still extremely exhausted and tempted to go to bed immediately after I finish this post. That actually might be a very good idea. When will I stop being so tired?

Hmmm…is my body now rebelling against me and giving me a F.O.A.D.?