Archive for January, 2014

Yeah, so everyone in my office must think there’s a professional football team in Denver or something. All I’ve seen in the office the last week or so are people in orange jerseys with the number 18  and the word Manning on the back. What the fuck? And there’s some fucked up media campaign called “United in Orange”. It must be something about that Netflix series “Orange is the new Black” cuz I swear half these people are acting like prison thugs.

Seriously, yeah, there’s this big football game this Sunday. And there is at least ONE professional team in it, the Seattle Seahawks. But who am I to talk. I grew up in Dallas. I’m a lifelong Cowboys fan. And they fucking suck! I am NOT a Jerry Jones fan. I think he has taken them down the road towards perpetual mediocrity. My neighbor, grew up in Reading (unlike the rest of us educated folks, they pronounce it “Redding”, past tense and all. What??? Like “Yeah, I redding (reading) that book a year ago”. It’s like some fucked up Zaphod Beeblebrox time travel future-past tense bull shit. The past tense is READ RED) and is an Eagles fan. Sorry, tangent, back to my original thought.

Anyway, we were talking about how fucked up our teams were and I’m giving shit to one of the “United in Orange” prison mongers and I come up with the idea that in order to fix crappy teams and bring REAL fucking parity to the NFL that Roger Goodell should implement a rule similar to that of the UEFA in that teams that don’t place in the top-tier get bumped down to a lower league, and that teams that finish in the top of the lower league get invited back up to the top-tier. That would hopefully get JJ off his high horse and focused on actually fucking WINNING rather than making an almighty buck.

Alas… I will remain a disappointed Cowboys fan until Jerry dies. Unfortunately, as any Star Wars nerd knows, the Sith Lord always has a Sith in training. So even when JJ dies there will be another incompetent fuckup to replace him.

Just a bunch of random fucking shit today.

  1. If nothing seriously fucking negative happens then MS and I will be closing on our house in 2 weeks. That means I gotta have shit packed and ready to move by Ground Hog Day/Superbowl. Fuck me! The garage and basement are enough to give you the willies on a GOOD fucking day. Feeling a panic attack coming on
  2. Thanks for the feedback my Fellow Fuckers! The last few posts have provided me some excellent fucking motivation and inspiration. Keep it up! Now, between packing, dealing with all the fucked up shit in selling a house and trying to find another place to live, I might be able to squeeze in an hour or two of writing (a week?)
  3. Thank you Courtney at The Paris Review.  I’ve been contemplating ditching the Kindle eReader app on my smart phone and tablet since Journalist gave me the soft-copy paperback of The Glass Castle for Christmas. It was such a joy to have a physical book in my hands, smell the paper and ink, turn pages with my fingers and it brought back memories of all the physical books I’ve read in the past. Then I read Thoughts on Thoreau and that did it for me. I’ve also been talking with my friend BlueOwl who owns a book store in my neck of the woods. I’ve been feeling like eReaders and smart apps are killing the small, independent book store like hers. So all that said, no more eBooks for me
  4. Lots of shit happening this year. Last year, 2013, was the “Year of Change” for MS and me. This year’s mantra is “Experiences over things” or “The Year of Experiences”. Keeping with the spirit Thoreau’s Walden, part of that is “simplify, simplify, simplify”. Yeah, this fucking move is far short of simple but the end goal is this: make our lives simple and easy and work towards having more experiences
  5. Write! Write! Write! Did I make myself perfectly, fucking clear?

Thanks for letting me bend your ear my Fellow Fuckers!

Keep the feedback coming (positive AND negative so I can grow)!

There, I said it! Deal with it my Fellow Fuckers!

Just like I’ve embraced who I am as being polyamorous, I am embracing that I write. Do I get paid for it? Fuck no! Is it my career? Yeah, that’s not happening. But, I do love to write, and have, since I was in junior high school. In fact, my English teachers thought I’d be a writer one day. My favorite teacher even signed my yearbook as “To my future author”.
But it’s funny the curveballs life throws at you. In fact, most were thrown at me, close to my head. Other than a few that found their mark, left some nasty bumps and bruises, I’ve ducked and dodged my way to where I am now.
When I finished high school, my goal was to be a band director. Then I met my now ex-wife, Baby Mamma, who had a TRS 80 color computer II. It was still in the box and never opened. I spent the summer teaching myself BASIC and, drum roll please… Here I am today in my IT career.
My role the last few years has involved a lot of writing but it’s all technical writing. I’ve written white papers and content for database courses, written my own content for presentations at user group and community technical events, a few webcasts and, numerous presentations for executives while at my consulting job.
But it’s been in the last few years where I decided to pick back up on other styles of writing. Aside from this blog, I have another that I’ve reserved for mostly book and movie reviews. Additionally, I have several short stories in the works and in various stages of incompleteness. I also have some ideas for a novel. But, does that make me a writer?
MS bought me a book, about being a writer, for Christmas. I’m about 1/3 finished. But, what reading it has taught me is this: “if you write, you are a writer”. That’s another fucking point I’m embracing: I write and I enjoy doing so. Therefore, I am a fucking write!
Am I a good writer? I think so. That doesn’t mean there aren’t better and more prolific writers and authors out there. But I don’t fucking care anymore! I am a fucking writer! Therefore, I am embracing my penmanship, creative spirit, plugging in my keyboard and stocking up on pens, pencils and tablets.
And these are my tools: My laptop, my tablet and my handy-dandy notebook.  


The notebook is really handy as I take down notes whenever an idea comes to me. I try to write as soon as I can, rather than wait for time. I feel my writing is
much better when I’m inspired and ideas are fresh.

When I’m inspired, and in the creative spirit, words fly from my fingertips with ease just like spells from Mickey’s wand in Fantasia.

Copyright Walt Disney Studios. Fantasia 1940

Just like this particular post. I started on it over a week ago. The first page and paragraphs came so easily and naturally. Then I got bogged down with work, moving, packing, and life. It progressed, stopped, started again haltingly like a teen driving their first manual transmission.
I have so many other topics on my mind that I had to finish this. I read the last few paragraphs I’d written and thought them total crap. It was time to revise, delete and chop. This, now, is my final draft. Am I completely happy? No! But, I finished it. It’s sufficient.

I guess I really am a fucking writer. I’m my own worst critic. Enjoy my fellow fuckers! And please, comment and give me some fucking feedback other than a “like”!

I was reading some comments in a poly discussion group. The question came up “Do you get upset when someone questions your ‘lifestyle’?”. That sparked the following question: “Is polyamory a lifestyle?”

It’s an interesting topic and question. I, for one, believe it’s part of who I am. I would say that it’s an identity. But, when MS and I first “decided to do poly” it was more of a lifestyle choice. Like some people are swingers, some people are fetishists and have their kinky side we felt like we were making a choice about how to live.

Guess what? Things did not go so well. We couldn’t find a community and did not know of any resources. All we had found at the time were several WiKi sites and some definitions about many of the terms.

Unicorn Nothing we found talked with or dealt with actually how to deal with issues like jealousy, envy, etc. We were given a pretty picture of unicorns and rainbows. Rainbow

Then two things happened: the wheels started to fall off in dramatic fashion, and my dad was diagnosed with cancer.

I needed time to deal with my dad and doctor visits and MS needed to end an unhealthy relationship so we decided to “take a break” and “not be poly”. But over time, that word kept creeping back into discussions. Unfortunately, I was travelling for work as well and just could not muster the energy to bring it back into our life even though I knew in my heart that I could not be, or was not meant to be, monogamous.

Shortly after my dad passed away, though, I had my own little emotional apocalypse. It started out as a little Jameson’s and diet Coke, then went to full-blown shots and ended with me shouting “I can’t be monogamous” (along with screaming, locking myself in the bathroom and several healthy doses of praying to the porcelain god that finished with dry heaves).

I was in a pretty fucked up situation, mostly in my head, and needed some space: Space to deal with these life changing events, space to think, space to find myself. Since I was still traveling and had practically no fucking concept of work/life balance the first step was to change jobs and eliminate the 90% travel. Over the next 6 weeks I finally found a position back in CO.

But like I said, I needed space. As MS and I discussed the job, moving again, I was reluctant to say what I really needed. But MS could sense it. She asked me if I wanted her to come back to CO with me. I had to break her heart. I had to rip it out and hurt her very badly. At that time, I could only say the most selfish thing in the world: “No. I need some time and space. I need to find myself. I need you to let me be me”.

And even though I broke her heart, she gave me my wings and I took the job and relocated by myself. And, I began to rediscover who I am; I discovered the horrible programming my parents did to me growing up, the bad communication styles they gave me. I began the process of redefining myself. I discovered how my I loved and missed MS and how I needed her in my life.

And, I discovered, I AM polyamorous. I embraced it. It is who I am. I reflected on my life and past relationships and saw a pattern. In high school and college I always wondered “Why do I have to choose one person?” I had crushes on several people. But, “rules” said I could only go out with one. If I was dating or going out with Cyndi but was interested in Debbie then I’d have to break up with Cyndi first. It never made sense.

The closest I came to living a poly lifestyle was in college. I was engaged to who is now my ex-wife but I was seeing Trumpeter on the side. Neither knew about the other so it can’t really be called polyamory. But, Trumpeter and I had what can only be called a friends with benefits relationship. It was the early 80’s and I don’t think the term fuck buddy was out yet but that’s what we had. We were friends socially but whenever we got together the sexual chemistry was through the roof. We’d call each other to “hang out”, play pool, or what not, but within 30 minutes we’d be in the sack having wild monkey sex.

As my wedding with my now ex loomed, Trumpeter and I knew we’d eventually end and it did once the wedding occurred. But even then, I fell in love with or had crushes on other women once I got married. Ultimately, my ex did too as after 6 years she started seeing an ex-boyfriend who had returned and we divorced.

Now, here I am, over 20 years later, married to MS, dating Hell Cat and embracing a polyamorous lifestyle. For me, the answer to the question that I started at the top is this: It is who I am. It’s part of me. I can only imagine it similar to someone who is gay. You can’t “pray it away”, or send me to a camp to condition it out of me. I am polyamorous.

In my post on Thursday I wrote about the metamour experience from the night before. In it, I mentioned making my famous veggie quesadillas.

Well my Fellow Fuckers, if you’re interested, this is how I fucking roll!

  • 1 Large poblano pepper (sliced and chopped)
  • 1 Large white onion (chopped)
  • 1 clove garlic
  • 2 cups sliced mushrooms
  • 16 oz shredded cheddar, Monterrey jack (or your favorite) cheese
  • 1 to 2 oz butter (or margarine)
  • 1 Package 10″ flour tortillas
  • Salsa (your favorite brand)
  • Sour Cream (optional)
  • Guacamole (optional. But fucking seriously, who doesn’t want this tasty goodness? Stop reading now if you’re a fucking guacamole hater!)

Spray a non-stick skillet with an olive oil spray and heat. Cut the top off the poblano pepper and de-seed and de-vein. Cut into thin strips (I try to stay less than 1/4″ wide and no longer than 2″ long). Add to skillet. While pepper is sautéing, start chopping the onion. Add onion to skillet and continue  sautéing with pepper.

Finely chop or mince the garlic, add to skillet and continue  sautéing. While onions, pepper and garlic is cooking, slice the mushrooms. Add to the skillet with the butter. (I typically cook everything until the onions are a dark brown and caramelized. I personally caramelize the fuck out of the onions!). Remove from heat and set aside.

Depending on your skillet and spatula, the actual quesadilla can be made 2 ways.

Method 1 (smaller skillet and spatula) – Place single tortilla on skillet. spread vegetable mixture on one side of tortilla along with 1 to 2 oz. of shredded cheese. Cook tortilla about 1 minute until it’s soft and pliable. Fold in half. Continue cooking until cheese begins to melt. Flip tortilla and cook on remaining side until cheese is thoroughly melted.

Method 2 (larger skillet, spatula or Panini press/quesadilla grill) – Place single tortilla in skillet or press. Spread vegetable mixture over tortilla along with 1 to 2 oz. of shredded cheese. Top with additional tortilla. For the Panini press/quesadilla grill, close the top and cook one to two minutes until cheese is completely melted. If in a larger skillet, cook on one side for about 1 minute until the cheese begins to melt then flip the entire assembly and cook another minute. (This can create a huge fucking mess! That’s why I prefer method 1 above if you don’t have a press or grill).

Serve with sour cream, guacamole and salsa. For those who are so indulged, don’t forget to wash it down with a margarita!

Enjoy my Fellow Fuckers!


It seems the word metamour has been popping up lately both in my own world and in blogs I’ve been following. In one, SPC has been writing a lot about her metamour, Traveler’s Wife, and linked to her blog as well.
What is a metamour? In the polyamory world, it is the partner’s lover or significant other. In my world, I am married to MS and have been dating my girlfriend Hell Cat for 6 months. MS and Hell Cat are met amours. Likewise, MS has been seeing NQABF for several months so he and I are met amours.
The metamour relationship can be just as complex or involved as the lover or secondary relationship (I hesitated to use secondary here as I don’t want to imply there is a relationship hierarchy. I use it to define the relationship that is outside the traditional, monogamous relationship). In some cases, they can just be aware of each other’s existence. In other cases, they may be more friendly and amicable, and they can even have their own romantic relationship.
As I wrote in A (Not so) typical Friday, MS and NQABF went out for dinner. When they got back to the apartment we all just hung out and talked and chatted for hours. I get along with NQABF; I like him and actually enjoy doing stuff with them.
And last night was another good poly and metamour night. Hell Cat and I have been making up lost time from me being away during the Christmas holidays so she met me at my office. MS is in D.C. for work and was heading out for trivia night. She had planned to call me before heading to the bar but because Hell Cat was meeting me at my office, I wound getting the call on the way home with Hell Cat in the car.
We all had a nice talk and MS was asking what we had planned. Nothing really special as I was going to make my famous veggie quesadillas (reply if you want the recipe) then Hell Cat and I were just going to hang out and just enjoy our time together. MS told Hell Cat she was in for a treat because (yes, tooting my own horn here) I DO make a killer quesadilla.
After we got home and had dinner, Hell Cat had texted MS that yes, they WERE yummy and she enjoyed them very much.

Texting from the couchI didn’t know that much so later as we were cuddling on the couch and talking, and MS had gotten back from trivia night, she texted Hell Cat about the quesadillas, kind of giving her a hard time saying “You’re just too nice. You’d have said they were yummy even if they were ground glass”.
Since Hell Cat and I were just hanging and cuddling, and Hell Cat was responding to MS, we all wound up in a text storm. I was texting with MS talking about her trivia night; MS was texting Hell Cat about dinner and quesadillas. I don’t know about MS, but from our end, Hell Cat and I were laughing and having fun during the text storm. It seemed MS was too.
I was happy that MS had won her trivia and as she said, “Got to have fun with 4 sweet and cute geeky guys”, MS was happy that Hell Cat had enjoyed her home cooked dinner from me, Hell Cat was happy that we could all talk together and have fun. And, MS ended it with “You two need to stop texting me and go have fun”.
So we all said our good nights and Hell Cat and I went to bed and, yes, “had fun” 

That, to me, is what a good metamour experience should be like: Everyone getting along, liking each other and being happy.

For my fellow fuckers who live in a traditional monogamous lifestyle, today’s post may not seem so typical. For me and MS it’s becoming somewhat more typical.

We both have two days left before we return to work: Me in Colorado, her in D.C.
I hadn’t been awake too long when I received a text from Burner (aka Hugalicious because of her awesomely amazing hugs). We had last talked, met, hugged, fondled each other at a Christmas party a few weeks ago and we had talked about getting together before I returned home.
MS wasn’t feeling too well so I wasn’t sure it would work out. But, MS and NQABF had plans for the evening and she wasn’t about to break them so she told me to not change plans. It would have been ideal if we could have timed my get together with Burner later in the night. That way I would have been out with her while MS was out with NQABF. But all was fine.

I had a nice lunch with Burner and we talked for about two hours catching up, flirting some more, and talking about Burning Man, Apogaea. I love camping and haven’t been in a while so we are making tentative plans to for my first “burn”.
Time was getting short and I needed to head back home with MS’s lunch, Burner needed to get home and say goodbye to her husband so as we gave each other our parting hugs, she gave me a long, nibble-like kiss on my neck, said “I gotta go!” then hopped in her car and drove off.

NQABF arrived about 7:00 to pick MS up and they headed off to dinner and I was left to my own devices. I like to call this time “embracing my aloneness” as opposed to feeling alone or lonely. I grabbed some Sonic chili cheese tater tots, a cherry limeade and sat down to read and write.
I had just grabbed my laptop when Hell Cat (HC) sent me a text that she had just come home from the movies. Instead, we talked on the phone.

I was still on the phone with her when MS and NQABF got home. MS said “Hi” to Hell Cat, Hell Cat said “Hi” back and I’m talking with NQABF. It was getting loud so I wound up excusing myself and going to the bedroom to continue on the phone while leaving MS and NQABF in the living room talking on the couch.

I finally hung up the phone with Hell Cat and made my way back to the living room. Now, here I am, working on my blog, watching MS and NQABF talk, chat and have a good time on the couch while I occasionally chime in.

Yes, this is a (not so) typical Friday night.

Good night my fellow fuckers!

For those fellow fuckers who prefer other writing styles, I am linking to my other blog today and my review of the book “The Glass Castle“. Enjoy.