The thing I like best about Halloween is being able to get dressed up girly and going out in public…fearlessly. Well, I’m working tonight and tommorow is moving day so no trick-or-treating for us.

I’d like to tell you about my second favourite thing about halloween; <Orson Welles’ Mercury Theatre Broadcast of H.G. Wells’>  It was first broadcast 25 years before I was born, but for as long as I can remember I’ve listened to it at least once a year around Halloween. We listen to the old radio shows at work and it’s been on once already this week and I’m sure it’ll be on again tonight. Like the Grinch and Charlie Brown at Christmas, it’s just not Halloween without Orson annihilating the world before my very ears.

Mini’s teacher played it for them this afternoon in class. Last month he played the Abbott and Costello routine ‘Who’s on first.’ I like Mini’s teacher.

Anyway, the pc gets taken apart tommorow and we won’t have an internet connection until early next week so ♀ & I would like to wish all of you a fun and safe (they’re not mutually exclusive are they?) Halloween.

And seriously, if you haven’t heard it yet this year, treat yourself to <The War of the Worlds>

Cheers,

sss

So, we’re all packed and ready to go. We take possession of our new condo November 1. I’m really looking forward to it…it’s the first place we’ve bought together. ♀ has always made me feel welcome, but we picked this out together and it’s just for us.  Well, it’s possible that 12 year old Mini might want to move in at some point, but still it’s ours and it’s special…you know?

 I think moving day will be emotional for her. She bought this place for her and Junior and we’ve been so busy with sorting and packing she hasn’t had time to dwell on leaving and Junior moving. She knows it was time for him to move, but I think it’s different for moms.

He took all our living room furniture and all our pots and pans and we’re getting all new stuff and we’re also getting a new bedroom suite. Yippee for us. The bad news is, he wasn’t able to take his two cats with him. Does anyone have any suggestions on how to keep cats away from new leather furniture???

Anyway, this’ll probably be our last post for at least a week. We’ll be back. I promise.

HHNT

sss

Have you ever been to Lustomic.com? “Making boys be girls”

They have links to quite a few other sissy sites, loads of sissy comics and a few sissy video’s. They asked if I’d like to review a couple of the video’s and of course I said, “Hell yeah.”

The two I watched were ‘For a Good Time Call Dita’s Dolls’ and ‘Rent-a-Maid’. They both starred hard-assed Miss Dita and her cowed sissy-bitch Jade. These aren’t the sort of video’s available at our local video store and they were different then the stuff you find at places like YouPorn.

In ‘For a Good Time Call Ditta’s Dolls’, after Jade finishes dusting her Mistress’ sexy shoes with a duster attached to a ball gag, Miss Ditta takes off Jade’s cock cage and collar and helps her get dressed up in her hooker clothes. Then she sends Jade to a chep motel to service a beer drinking frat-boy kinda guy. She’s a good little sissy-whore and serves him a beer before she gets on her knees for him. She’s a very good cock sucker and is able to take all of him. When he’s good and excited she hops up on the bed, lifts her pretty little skirt and lets him have her little sissy ass. Miss Ditta has another date scheduled for her by the time she gets back.

In ‘Rent-a Maid’ the clients come to Miss Ditta’s house. A studly alpha male and his hot girlfriend want to sample the product before they take Jade for the weekend. She serves drinks and prances around for them. Then she gives alpha male a blow job while hot girlfriend fucks her with a strap-on.

OK, I’ve never reviewed video’s before so I’m not sure how to rate them. ♀ has been so busy lately she wasn’t able to watch them with me, but she did give me permission to masturbate if I wanted to while watching these. I watched them on two different days and both of them got me excited, but neither of them gave me a Big O.

What I really liked about both of these video’s is they really nail what I think is a very common sissy fantasy. ♀ likes to whisper filthy stories in my ear when we’re having sex and scenario’s where she whores me out to men and or women always gets me off. That leads to what I didn’t like…actually, maybe it would be more accurate to say it’s what distracted me. In both of these video’s Jade was sad. In the first she asked if she had to go out to turn a trick and in the other one she looked almost in tears when the couple had finished with her.

I understand the humiliation dynamic of being a sissy. ♀ insists my facial hair stays on so there’s no mistaking I’m a male wearing women’s clothes, doing girly things and being submissive to a powerful woman. I get that. I just couldn’t identify with her discomfort. In my mind I was watching a fantasy and in my fantasy I would love to be whored out. The reality would probably be completely different (maybe I’d be in tears).

There are probaly lots of sissies and sissy lovers who would really get off on Jade’s discomfort, but for me it was a distraction. Not a really turn-off though, because the next video is what happens when Damian and Ashley Edmonds take Jade to their hotel for the weekend and I really want to see that as well.

Both video’s run just over 20 minutes and cost $15.95 each. They have several payment options.

Cheers,

sss

In stressful situations my brain goes foggy and my tongue gets tied and I never seem to be able to say or do the right thing. Then later on (hours, days, somtimes years) that situation comes back and gets stuck in my head. It replays with what I could have, would have, should have said or done. The scenario stays the same, but what I do and say changes…evolves…get more and more outlandish. It’s like an endless loop in my brain. I recognize the symptoms, I know it’s destructive, I know it’ll make me sick, I know it puts a wall between ♀ & I, I know the longer I’m stuck in that place the harder it is to get back, but it’s just so fucking hard to turn off. You know?

One school of thought suggests that I write it all down somewhere (here?) and get it all out. I’ve tried that in the past. Sometimes it helps. The thing is I have so few hours in a week to actually sit down at the computer, do I really want to spend that time focusing on the very thoughts that torment me?

I’m actually writing this post on Saturday night (my only night off this week). I think I’ll  spend the rest of the night trying to write fiction. It might do me good to concentrate on fucking up someone else’s reality.

♀ drew this happy face on my tummy last night. She said whenever I’m feeling down I should lift up my shirt and look in the mirror.

How bad is it? Those really are plaid flannel boxers I’m wearing.

HHNT

sss

ps: I managed to write chapter 3 of Death and Taxes on Saturday

There’s a link on the sidebar to the beginning of this…

Other then the Indians Natives, Dave the Tokin’ Nip was the only non-white kid in our class. And the chuggers don’t really count. My dad calls them ‘apples’, red on the outside and white on the inside. He’s careful about who he says stuff like that to. It’s not like we live in some upper-crust elite suburb. It’s a small interior town and there are just not very many non-European immigrants here. I’ve never even met a real coloured black person before. Anyway, Dave’s always kinda stood out, you know? For some kids being different is tough, but for Dave it was all good. Stuff always seems to come easy for him; grades, sports, girls… and loads of friends of course. Part of that is he’s the go-to-guy when you need weed, but it’s more then that. He’s a lot of fun to hang out with. He doesn’t have an accent at all, but when he’s drinking or telling jokes he does this killer Asian accent. It’s funny as hell.

The bad part about Dave is he cannot keep a secret. I wouldn’t call him a ‘gossip’, he doesn’t go out of his way to tell people shit, he’s just friendly and chatty and usually high and stuff comes out. He swears he never told anyone about the wedding present, but he’s full of shit. Two weeks after she threw the beer bottle at me, Lynda starts calling the house. Because I’m still on probation, I’m working all different shifts at the mill and when I say ‘working’ I really mean it. I’ve never had to work like this before and I am bagged when I get home. Parts of me hurt that I didn’t know I had before. I have a couple of beers after my shift (the only good thing about shift work is anytime is miller time) and smoke a joint before I go to bed and sleep until it’s time to go back to work. The money’s great, but I’m to fucking tired to spend much of it.

Anyway, Lynda starts calling the house every day and my mom is all excited about it, like it’s Farrah Fawcett calling. I really can’t be bothered to call her back, but eventually she calls when I’m at home and awake. Mom hands me the phone grinning from ear to ear. Guess who this is? She mouths. The psycho bitch I knocked up? I mouth back.

Lynda’s all nice and sweet on the phone. She’s heard I’m working. She’s sooo happy for me. She’d really like to get together and talk about stuff. She promises not to throw anything at me. She doesn’t actually apologize for it, just says being pregnant fucks with her hormones. I agree to meet her the next afternoon.  Mom comes back into the kitchen after I hang up. She looks so pleased. I can’t stand it so I go down to the China Lily to see Dave and score some weed. We’re standing outside the back of the restaurant smoking a joint and I tell him about talking to Lynda. He says you know how to make a hormone, right? Don’t pay her. He kills me.

I meet Lynda at a coffee shop the next day and she still looks skinny as hell. She notices the way I look at her and the very first thing she says to me is her boobs are bigger. She says they could get way bigger and they’ll probably stay big even after the baby’s born. Seriously. That’s what she starts off with. The only thing I can think of to say is ‘super’. She tells me she’s been to the doctor and everything’s fine. She starts telling me about how bad alcohol can be for the baby like it’s something I never would have thought of on my own. She says smoking isn’t very good for the baby either, but the stress of quitting might be worse so the doctor just encouraged her to cut back.

She asks about the job and my parents and she tells me some lame story about her sister and stuff going on at the Italian Delight and I can tell she really is making an effort. Part of my brain knows that she’s only being nice because I have a well paying job and she needs me to support her and she’s probably heard about the wedding present. On the other hand, it’s 1981 and there aren’t many well paying jobs out there for a guy fresh out of school and we’re both stuck in this one-horse town and I’m going to be paying for this kid one way or another and for the life of me I can’t see a way off of this path.

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Did you happen to see <these paintings> by <Jackie Adshead>. I think they’re gorgeous and I think ♀ has a very pretty one as well. So we sent Jackie some pics and guess what? She’s going to include ♀ in her next set of paintings. How cool is that?

I don’t know if it’ll be a painting of one specific picture or if all the pics become part of the final work of art.

This is my fave of the pics we sent:

And this is ♀ fave:

Either way, I’m pretty excited. Depending on the price (the ex is taking me back to court) I think I’d like to buy it (or maybe a print) and have it displayed in our bedroom. What do you think? Is that something you’d display?

HHNT

sss

Wow. Can you believe it? A second chapter. There’s a link to the beginning of this on the side bar.

There are no shades of grey with my dad; no what if’s or maybe’s. He doesn’t rant or rave, he just says what he thinks and people listen. He’s got a deep voice like Johnny Cash and he always looks you straight in the eye when he’s talking to you. He’s also a big man, not fat really, but he just seems to occupy a lot of space. Whatever the reason, not many people contradict him.

He’s a foreman at the mill and his shifts almost always have the best safety records and they often have the highest production numbers. Every month, the shift that has the fewest injuries combined with the highest production gets a bonus, so the guys on his shift thinks he’s great. He calls them ‘his guys’ and they’re always coming over to the house asking for advice.

He’s the godfather to more kids in this town then practically anyone. Speaking of kids, he coaches Little League Baseball in the summer and one of the years I played, we went all the way to the provincial championship. We even got our picture in the newspaper. My mom kept the clipping.

I wouldn’t want you to think I just do what ever the hell he tells me to do. We argue lots. But this thing with Lynda being preggers, well after a couple of weeks he starts to make sense. He tells me that even if I don’t marry her, we’re still going to have this connection for a very long time and we should try to get along. He tells me to take her out and get to know her better. He tells me that since we’re both going to be parents to this child we should figure out how that’s going to work.

He asks me how I was planning to get started on my career as a roadie. It’s not like there’s a roadie school anywhere. Other then a local bar band I don’t even know any musicians. Then of course he had to remind me about the time I lit my buddy Dave’s car on fire putting in a car stereo. Actually we were hot knifing hash with a blow torch and ‘electrically inept’ just sounded like a better excuse.

In his mind, running away isn’t even an option. He tells me that if I run away Lynda will be on welfare and the government lawyers will chase me to the ends of the earth to collect child support. He says him and my mom will want to be able to see their grandchild and how will they be able to do that if I’m a deadbeat dad? And besides all that, the day will come when I’ll have to look that kid in the eye and explain why I wasn’t there for him. Of course my dad is looking me in the eye when he tells me that.

So I go to the restaurant and ask Lynda if she wants to go out after she finishes work. She looks at me real suspicious, like all I want is to get laid again. I must admit, I did think of that. It’s not like she could get any more pregnant. But she says OK and I pick her up just after 10 pm. She gets in my car and goes to light a cigarette. I tell her she can’t smoke in my car so she puts it back in her purse. I tell her I don’t want her to smoke while she’s pregnant. I tell her it’s my baby as well and I don’t want her to poison it. She gets pissed off and says I can’t tell her what to do and then says she wants to go home.

I stew about it for a few days and then I start to think maybe my dad’s right. Not about getting married, but about this kid being as much mine as it is hers. So I go back to the restaurant at the end of her shift. She’s sitting in the smoking section with another waitress drinking a beer. I get really pissed off and tell her she can’t drink and smoke when she’s pregnant, the baby will be all fucked up just like her sister. She tells me to go fuck myself and throws her beer at me.

My dad gets me an interview with Mr. Peters, the personnel manager at the mill. I’ve known him for years of course. I broke his kids collar bone playing flag football at a company picnic one year. Dad says I need to go through the interview process just like anyone else. The interview doesn’t start off very well. Mr. Peters comments on how much I’ve filled out since he last saw me. He says pretty soon I’ll be as big as my old man. Without even thinking about it I say, yeah, strong like ox, smart like tractor. Mr. Peters thinks I’m making fun of my dad and starts giving me a lecture. I don’t know if I should admit that I was calling myself a big dummy. So I don’t say anything. The rest of the interview goes good and I get the job. Well I’m on three months probation before I can get into the union then I get the job, but my dad says if I’m punctual, work hard and work safe I’ll get on for sure.

He says he’s proud of me, getting a real job and taking responsibility for my life. I don’t really get the connection so I tell him about my attempts with Lynda. It’s like I’m talking and he’s hearing something completely different. He starts going on about how much money I’ll be making in a couple of years and benefit packages and education funds for me and my family and pension funds- for fuck sake, I’m eighteen and he’s talking about my retirement. I try again. I tell him Lynda and I have never even been out on a date. We screwed once. She threw a beer bottle at me. He tells me about the wedding present he and my mom are going to give us. Then he tells me not to tell anyone, especially Lynda because that shouldn’t influence her decision to marry me or not.

A couple of days later I’m smoking a joint with Dave the tokin’ nip and I tell him what’s been going on with Lynda and how the grumpies are in total denial about what a head case she really is. Dave says so according to your pa, getting married because you knocked up some bitch you don’t even like is the right thing to do, but getting married to get a cool present is wrong?

It’s 1981 and even the music sucks

One day last week, during the heat of passion, I bit her breast.

After we finished making love, she put me in my place.

HHNT

sss

This past week marked the 2nd bloggerversary of SSS, we had our 500,000 visitor and this is our 300 post.

Fuck it. I quit!

Just kidding.

I have been thinking about changing some stuff though. None of the following are resolutions so don’t hold me to it. I need to put that great big blog roll into some kind of order. I might try a new template or I might take the plunge and try self-publishing. See if we could find a few advertisers to help pay for lingerie and toys. What’s your opinion about ads on blogs? Is it cashing in or selling out? Are bloggers actually making any money at this? Or is it just not worth the hassle? Seriously…let me know what you think.

I’d like to write more fiction. That novel is still mocking me and I have bits and pieces of a whole slew of short stories I’d like to write. Maybe after we move next month I can figure out a way to find more writing time. I really enjoyed the challenge of writing something every day during our road trip. If I am able to write more, I think we’ll do the HNT thing less. I’m not sure what that would translate to, it’s just sometimes it feels like a bit of a chore. Or maybe a ‘crutch’ would be a better description. Instead of sitting down and actually writing something, I’ll just put up a pic. I don’t know…I guess I’m just feeling like I need to challenge myself more.

Oh, so I found out who drew that Tom & Jerry cartoon. I thought maybe Bacchus from Erosblog might know so I emailed him. It turns out I probably first saw it on his site. He’s not quite as miserable as everyone says he is. He’ll never link to me, of course, but he was nice enough to email me back to tell me where he saw the cartoon. So I emailed the guy at Edinburgh Erotica and he sent me here. As soon as the page opened I knew Bathgate was the right guy. His style is very recognizable. I left a message on his page and he emailed me back:

Hi,

I’m glad you like my work and thanks for asking if you could use it before just taking it like most people. I just need to know which piece and if the site it’s going to be used for is a paysite? The characters I use in my art are not mine, so if it’s a paysite, you and I both run the risk of being sued by the copyright holders.

My only request, if you do use any of my work, is that you don’t alter it any. That doesn’t mean you can’t crop it, for a banner or somesuch, but I told one girl she could use my work and she screwed with the color and added a horrible background to it. So, now I only say yes to people who respect the original versions.

That was a long-winded way of telling you I have a shiny new banner. If you’ld like to have it on your sidebar, you can find it on my side bar.

Do you have a favourite Bathgate cartoon? I have lots of fave’s, but I especially like this set…

 ‘That’s all folks’   Mel Blanc

I am a baker of bread, buns and dainish…a dough surgeon. The vast majority of my time at the bakery is spent working with yeast. However, the shop I work at also produces most everything else you would expect to find in a well stocked bakery: cookies, pies, sausage rolls, turnovers, muffins, petite fours and cakes…

HHNT

sss

ps: <click here> to see some very cool jewellery.