Where's Puddin'???

Amongst the feathers and Vegas showgirls, lurks some Puddin’. If you can spot the Puddin’, you will get… * drum roll please * …a whole lot of nothing!!! Yay! Hey, at least it's Friday...

Kodak Moment

New digital camera: $300

New Outfit: $100

Cocktails and cover charge to get into the club (mostly cocktails): $50

A close up picture of my friend about to take a chunk out of some big ass titties: Priceless…

Some things money can’t buy, for everything else there is Ms P holding a camera.

I Dream of Weenie

I had a sex dream the other night.

It was with one of my male readers, whom I have never met. (Sorry, but no Slaus it wasn’t you). I’ll try to detail it, although describing a dream is like trying to explain the plot of a movie in Spanish, to someone who only speaks Chinese.

A dream only makes sense in the dreamer’s mind.

In short, the whole dream was one big gigantic orgasm. I just remember floating, like I was in heaven. There wasn’t any dialogue, just some moaning sound effects and a real blurry visual. I don’t even know if homeboy was packin’ or not. It wasn’t a freak nasty dream. It was all mentally stimulated and happened in slow motion. Ha, it was a sexual seduction...



Anyway, I’m not complaining, but it was weird. Having a random-sex-with-a-stranger-dream is creepy in more ways than one. Not only does this mean that I need to get laid and I blog way too much, but it was the best sex I’ve ever had. (I woke up sweating and I needed a cigarette). My intuition after this encounter is so sad. I have better sex with myself in my mind then I do in real life with another person. However, on the plus side, at least I can’t get pregnant having a random-sex-with-a-stranger-dream.

Now enough posts about sex. I don’t want this blog to turn into a place where people come to get a load off. Unless I’m getting paid, of course. Then I’ll talk dirty…

The Moral of Porn

I was chatting with my guy friend today. He was informing me on how his new porn collection had just come in the mail.

“Porn is like a good action movie,” he said. “You can only watch it a couple of times, because once you know what’s going to happen, it’s not exciting anymore.”

I asked him if I could borrow a copy of his new porn.
“Not until I watch them first,” he said. “I get the first date with my new porn.” Um, ok. Fair enough.

I read in Cosmopolitan that guys masturbate A LOT. I mean women flick their bean occasionally, but guys jack off like their penis signed up for an intensive aerobics class.

I personally don’t mind porn. I watch it sometimes, but I am THE worst person to watch it with. I once dated a guy and we would watch porn together. I remember watching a porno with him one night, which killed any future opportunity of us watching it together again. I forgot what the porn was titled, but I'll make something up to help paint the picture. I'll call it, "The Punani Party."

The “storyline” of the poon, was about a couple of hot (airbrushed and plastic) chicks who get invited to a house "party". When they get to this party they end up being the only two chicks who show up. (How original). So the two hot chicks are chillin' at this so called party with the two guys who threw the party. Eventually one guys leads one chick onto the couch, while the other guy takes the other girl upstairs. (Didn't see that one coming). One thing leads to another and well, um, yeah, soon everyone is doing the nasty.

However, the whole time we are watching the porn I’m lying in the bed asking a million questions like, “didn’t she have a purse when she first walked in? Where did her purse go? Why are they the only ones who showed up anyway, shouldn’t there be more people if it’s a party?”

Meanwhile, the guy I’m dating is getting frustrated, because I'm totally killing the mood. And starts yelling at me, (well not literally yelling, because he still wants to get laid).

“It’s a porn!" he said. "The point is they have sex! Stop over analyzing it. They are at the party to have sex!”

Oooooooh, that’s right. They are at the party to have sex. Ah that makes so much more sense now. Not only is this film low budget, but it was directed by another man’s penis. Gotcha.

The moral of the story? I shouldn't watch porn.

The End.

Opinion of the day...

"The sex in "Addicted" was boring because it was unimaginative. I would expect more from an erotic writer than that." -Ms Puddin's mother.