or choose an archive link to the left to read earlier posts.
Saturday, October 09, 2004
The end of the pie
Your thin end for today:
I've been serving up these Wedges of Wisdom for 6 months and now I've run out of wedges to give you. Actually I haven't, I'm just fed up with it taking ages to update this blog simply because people just like me have bogged the blogger servers and they are running out of "serve".
So, I have created a new blog, independent of centralised administration where I am the Goddess and I can waste my time on sleeping instead of tapping my fingers waiting for the bloody pages to load. So this is the final Wedge of Wisdom entry and now you can find the new chapter at Square Pegs, Round Holes
It's a little darker looking... but I'm sure you'll feel right at home.
Cya there
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I've been serving up these Wedges of Wisdom for 6 months and now I've run out of wedges to give you. Actually I haven't, I'm just fed up with it taking ages to update this blog simply because people just like me have bogged the blogger servers and they are running out of "serve".
So, I have created a new blog, independent of centralised administration where I am the Goddess and I can waste my time on sleeping instead of tapping my fingers waiting for the bloody pages to load. So this is the final Wedge of Wisdom entry and now you can find the new chapter at Square Pegs, Round Holes
It's a little darker looking... but I'm sure you'll feel right at home.
Cya there
|
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
Milk Bar's open for business
Your thin end for today:
Nushie has that big-titties thing happening again. It goes hand in hand with losing her sylph-like figure and assuming the "blobbing sow" disguise she takes on when her belly is all full up with paws. And judging by the size of her with at least 3 weeks left to go, she has a lot of paws in there.
Listening to her teats slapping like a seal clapping when she walks reminded me that Diane made mention in her comment (in one of the most recent posts) of this month being Breast Cancer Awareness month.
And breasts are not something to be taken for granted. Ever. After all, pretty much everyone has at least two to start with, hmmm (and Nushie has 11 of 'em). So, in honour of breasts large and small, saggy and perky, soft and silicon, I bring you
Tribute to the Magnificant Mammary.
Women generally have breasts. All shapes, all sizes, all colours and textures, most women have them, most babies are suckled by them, most men love to be snuggled between them and most women wish theirs looked other than how they actually do. A huge sector of the women's clothing market is geared towards breast control or enhancement. Lingerie is designed to be visually arousing to those of the opposite gender. Puberty makes them grow, cold and sexual arousal make them stand out, breastfeeding from them promotes uterine muscle activity, which is also linked back to arousal as well as simply stopping bubs from screaming. Womens breasts are usually a bit better wired into the overall system than a blokes ones are. Hormones have a hell of a lot to answer for.
Men have breasts, too. Usually not as large, as prominent nor particulary sexually exciting to them, they do still have them. Blokes ones aren't even good for show, really.
Throughout history, mammaries have been made mention of; in music, in monologue, in painting, sculpture and in cultural & societal moralism. There are pictures of them everywhere, some clothed in decorum as well as fine fabric, others lifted high to be portrayed as decently indecent, others given realism, bare skin, warts and all. Perhaps as early as as 800,000 years ago, early Bloke in what is now Israel was carving his rocks (not just banging them together) and turning out Venus figurines. And in every generation since that time, there have been tit-men who also spent their adult lives trying to get back in where they came from.
Now, our modern, techologically rich societies and cultures see the breasts as not just something to feed our babies and cradle our men into, their care has been recognised as an integral part of total Woman Wellness.
Hence Breast Cancer Awareness month.
Every year, breast cancer deprives thousands of people of the comfort of those two big glands lurking centre stage on a woman's chest. It takes without descrimination - mothers, sisters, aunties, daughters and wives. It leaves destruction in it's wake. It's not very nice at all.
Man or woman, celebrate Womanhood by checking the breasts you are closest to today.
|
Nushie has that big-titties thing happening again. It goes hand in hand with losing her sylph-like figure and assuming the "blobbing sow" disguise she takes on when her belly is all full up with paws. And judging by the size of her with at least 3 weeks left to go, she has a lot of paws in there.
Listening to her teats slapping like a seal clapping when she walks reminded me that Diane made mention in her comment (in one of the most recent posts) of this month being Breast Cancer Awareness month.
And breasts are not something to be taken for granted. Ever. After all, pretty much everyone has at least two to start with, hmmm (and Nushie has 11 of 'em). So, in honour of breasts large and small, saggy and perky, soft and silicon, I bring you
Tribute to the Magnificant Mammary.
Women generally have breasts. All shapes, all sizes, all colours and textures, most women have them, most babies are suckled by them, most men love to be snuggled between them and most women wish theirs looked other than how they actually do. A huge sector of the women's clothing market is geared towards breast control or enhancement. Lingerie is designed to be visually arousing to those of the opposite gender. Puberty makes them grow, cold and sexual arousal make them stand out, breastfeeding from them promotes uterine muscle activity, which is also linked back to arousal as well as simply stopping bubs from screaming. Womens breasts are usually a bit better wired into the overall system than a blokes ones are. Hormones have a hell of a lot to answer for.
Men have breasts, too. Usually not as large, as prominent nor particulary sexually exciting to them, they do still have them. Blokes ones aren't even good for show, really.
Throughout history, mammaries have been made mention of; in music, in monologue, in painting, sculpture and in cultural & societal moralism. There are pictures of them everywhere, some clothed in decorum as well as fine fabric, others lifted high to be portrayed as decently indecent, others given realism, bare skin, warts and all. Perhaps as early as as 800,000 years ago, early Bloke in what is now Israel was carving his rocks (not just banging them together) and turning out Venus figurines. And in every generation since that time, there have been tit-men who also spent their adult lives trying to get back in where they came from.
Now, our modern, techologically rich societies and cultures see the breasts as not just something to feed our babies and cradle our men into, their care has been recognised as an integral part of total Woman Wellness.
Hence Breast Cancer Awareness month.
Every year, breast cancer deprives thousands of people of the comfort of those two big glands lurking centre stage on a woman's chest. It takes without descrimination - mothers, sisters, aunties, daughters and wives. It leaves destruction in it's wake. It's not very nice at all.
Man or woman, celebrate Womanhood by checking the breasts you are closest to today.
|
Monday, October 04, 2004
Blow ya top
Your thin end for today:
From the way the earth is moving around Mount St Helens, it's people must be having a LOT of great sex. Either that or their mountain is about to reach a crescendo and spew forth great globs of nasty stuff all over the place.
This is what it looked like in 1980. Who says absolute power can't be a beautiful thing?
It's hardly surprising that almost every week there are news reports of devastation caused by natural disasters. Earthquakes and volcanic eruptions, hurricanes and tornadoes, cyclones and tsunami, bushfires and floods. Hardly surprising that people suffer financial loss and loss of life through these disasters. It's a result of inhabiting a planet whose very nature is violent, terrible and awesome to behold. And people will live in places where people really oughtn't be.
And Man, in his infinite wisdom, seems bound to assert his professed superiority and build his cities on places where cities really oughtn't go. Would you build you house in the middle of a dried up river bed? No? Then why build a city on coastal terrain that lies below sea level? Why continue to rebuild a city on a major fault line? The Roman municipality of Pompei was built twice, you know. The first version was destroyed by an earthquake. Ten years later, it's 2nd Genesis had it's lights snuffed out by Mt Vesuvius. Why did no one ever rebuild on top of Pompei? Maybe the surviving Pompeidlians finally learnt something? Modern man sure doesn't, though. He just builds bigger skyscrapers and more of 'em. I think the rationale is that, during a huge earthquake, all the buildings will lean up against each other and no one will fall over. Sort of like a couple of drunks, holding each other upright as they stagger home from the pub.
So Mount St Helens has groaned once more to life and threatens to do what Nature does best - burp, fart, roll over and go back to sleep.
Sounds a bit like a bloke, really... dunnit.
Never mind, when the next lot of Comets come and hit us, they'll make Mt Vesuvius look like a firecracker. With the major emphasis placed on industrial relations, resource consents and Free Rights Activists contributing to the general ability to plan and execue a major project on time, I can't help but wonder if NeoNoah will get his Ark finished before they get here, especially if he uses Microsoft Project to plan his project management.
Old Blog Reprise:
Out of the Ark
They embarked on the Ark in pairs, two by two
The Elephants and the Kangaroos
The Rats and Mice and Cats and Dogs
The Bugs and Spiders and bulgy-eyed Frogs
Rhinoceros, Hippopotamus, Bison and Pigs
(The Ark must have been enormously big!)
Pelicans, Albatross, Seagulls and Shags
And Kookaburras laughing at all their own gags
Black as Night Ravens and Ugly old Crows
The Sloth should have missed out, because he's so slow
The Donkeys were stubborn and so were the Mules
And they both dared to call the Jackass a fool
Hyenas and Wolverine, Weasels and Stoats
And Rabbits and Llama and Cattle and Goats
Poor Noah hunted for weeks, up hill and down dale
To invite all the animals out for a sail
He lined them up smartly, by species, in ranks
(So he knew where to run from, if the Ark sank)
He led them on board his great sturdy new craft
And was glad he'd not settled for building a raft.
Today's prophesy - Let's do the Timewarp again :-)
|
From the way the earth is moving around Mount St Helens, it's people must be having a LOT of great sex. Either that or their mountain is about to reach a crescendo and spew forth great globs of nasty stuff all over the place.
This is what it looked like in 1980. Who says absolute power can't be a beautiful thing?
It's hardly surprising that almost every week there are news reports of devastation caused by natural disasters. Earthquakes and volcanic eruptions, hurricanes and tornadoes, cyclones and tsunami, bushfires and floods. Hardly surprising that people suffer financial loss and loss of life through these disasters. It's a result of inhabiting a planet whose very nature is violent, terrible and awesome to behold. And people will live in places where people really oughtn't be.
And Man, in his infinite wisdom, seems bound to assert his professed superiority and build his cities on places where cities really oughtn't go. Would you build you house in the middle of a dried up river bed? No? Then why build a city on coastal terrain that lies below sea level? Why continue to rebuild a city on a major fault line? The Roman municipality of Pompei was built twice, you know. The first version was destroyed by an earthquake. Ten years later, it's 2nd Genesis had it's lights snuffed out by Mt Vesuvius. Why did no one ever rebuild on top of Pompei? Maybe the surviving Pompeidlians finally learnt something? Modern man sure doesn't, though. He just builds bigger skyscrapers and more of 'em. I think the rationale is that, during a huge earthquake, all the buildings will lean up against each other and no one will fall over. Sort of like a couple of drunks, holding each other upright as they stagger home from the pub.
So Mount St Helens has groaned once more to life and threatens to do what Nature does best - burp, fart, roll over and go back to sleep.
Sounds a bit like a bloke, really... dunnit.
Never mind, when the next lot of Comets come and hit us, they'll make Mt Vesuvius look like a firecracker. With the major emphasis placed on industrial relations, resource consents and Free Rights Activists contributing to the general ability to plan and execue a major project on time, I can't help but wonder if NeoNoah will get his Ark finished before they get here, especially if he uses Microsoft Project to plan his project management.
Old Blog Reprise:
Out of the Ark
They embarked on the Ark in pairs, two by two
The Elephants and the Kangaroos
The Rats and Mice and Cats and Dogs
The Bugs and Spiders and bulgy-eyed Frogs
Rhinoceros, Hippopotamus, Bison and Pigs
(The Ark must have been enormously big!)
Pelicans, Albatross, Seagulls and Shags
And Kookaburras laughing at all their own gags
Black as Night Ravens and Ugly old Crows
The Sloth should have missed out, because he's so slow
The Donkeys were stubborn and so were the Mules
And they both dared to call the Jackass a fool
Hyenas and Wolverine, Weasels and Stoats
And Rabbits and Llama and Cattle and Goats
Poor Noah hunted for weeks, up hill and down dale
To invite all the animals out for a sail
He lined them up smartly, by species, in ranks
(So he knew where to run from, if the Ark sank)
He led them on board his great sturdy new craft
And was glad he'd not settled for building a raft.
Today's prophesy - Let's do the Timewarp again :-)
|
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Sins of the flesh
Your thin end for today:
I am gob-smacked. I really am. I am almost speechless (and Mum always said that the only way to shut me up was stick something substantial in my mouth. Boy, was she ever right!).
I discovered a new concept tonight, one that has enormous potential for debate on the future of the role of "wife".
It's called a "Fleshlight" and it er cums in several varieties...
Think of the ramifications of all of this.
1. Men don't need a woman to have sex with, (or a man if the 4th and unpictured version of the Fleshlight is to be believed) and spending quality time "with himself" will never be the same again.
2. No longer would a man to put up with the expectation of being clean, tidy, useful and earning money to pay for their sex.
3. Women the world over can heave a huge sigh of relief, buy their hubby one of these and kiss goodbye to pleas for fellatio. Of course, why they would actually want to is beyond me...
But anyway, until tonight I did not know these things existed. Call me naive, call me ignorant (but don't call me Sheila, shit I hate that), I had never thought of Bobs for blokes. And now I will never look at a torch the same way again.
Maybe you could call them a stunning cunt... er cunning stunt... something like that.
Don't bother asking how I found these, just be grateful I did.
Today's prophesy - Autoerotica, not just a subject for mass debate. Have you killed a kitten today?
(Oh, do keep up, please?)
|
I am gob-smacked. I really am. I am almost speechless (and Mum always said that the only way to shut me up was stick something substantial in my mouth. Boy, was she ever right!).
I discovered a new concept tonight, one that has enormous potential for debate on the future of the role of "wife".
It's called a "Fleshlight" and it er cums in several varieties...
Think of the ramifications of all of this.
1. Men don't need a woman to have sex with, (or a man if the 4th and unpictured version of the Fleshlight is to be believed) and spending quality time "with himself" will never be the same again.
2. No longer would a man to put up with the expectation of being clean, tidy, useful and earning money to pay for their sex.
3. Women the world over can heave a huge sigh of relief, buy their hubby one of these and kiss goodbye to pleas for fellatio. Of course, why they would actually want to is beyond me...
But anyway, until tonight I did not know these things existed. Call me naive, call me ignorant (but don't call me Sheila, shit I hate that), I had never thought of Bobs for blokes. And now I will never look at a torch the same way again.
Maybe you could call them a stunning cunt... er cunning stunt... something like that.
Don't bother asking how I found these, just be grateful I did.
Today's prophesy - Autoerotica, not just a subject for mass debate. Have you killed a kitten today?
(Oh, do keep up, please?)
|
Sunday, September 26, 2004
If a picture paints a thousand words...
I found this site on a web directory - it has great coolness :-)
imagination at work.
Go there. Go now. But remember to come back again, you never know what perversions are coming up.
Today's prophesy - The pen is mightier than the sword. It's also smaller, lighter, cheaper and legal to conseal in your pocket. The ability to write with it is coincidental.
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imagination at work.
Go there. Go now. But remember to come back again, you never know what perversions are coming up.
Today's prophesy - The pen is mightier than the sword. It's also smaller, lighter, cheaper and legal to conseal in your pocket. The ability to write with it is coincidental.
|
Monday, September 20, 2004
Taking the pith
Your thin end for today:
I am reading a book. One with lots of words. With few diagrams and even fewer pictures.
In other words, it's a reading book, not a looking book. And it's bloody interesting too. It was one of those stupid impulse buys off the cheap table at the Red Shed - I think I paid $5 for it. It's probably the best $5 I ever spent. I've had it for a couple of years and got half way through it the first time before lending it out, and then lending it out again. Now I finally have it back and I've started at the front again.
It's called "Uriel's Machine" by authors Christopher Knight and Robert Lomas. It's sort of a history of History, if you like - it explains how much older than most of us think our civilisation's roots really are and puts the anomalies of the Bible into perspective in a unique and thorough way. And if you ever wanted to know why the missing Book of Enoch was left out of the Bible, or where the Freemasons originated, look no further than this book.
If you ever get a chance to read it, do so; it's definitely something to get your teeth into. But not my copy, ok? They have a couple of other books that look like they might be worth reading as well. If you have one of those, I'll do you a swap. If you are nice. :-D
Today's prophesy - Your lucky stone for the week is chalcedony.
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I am reading a book. One with lots of words. With few diagrams and even fewer pictures.
In other words, it's a reading book, not a looking book. And it's bloody interesting too. It was one of those stupid impulse buys off the cheap table at the Red Shed - I think I paid $5 for it. It's probably the best $5 I ever spent. I've had it for a couple of years and got half way through it the first time before lending it out, and then lending it out again. Now I finally have it back and I've started at the front again.
It's called "Uriel's Machine" by authors Christopher Knight and Robert Lomas. It's sort of a history of History, if you like - it explains how much older than most of us think our civilisation's roots really are and puts the anomalies of the Bible into perspective in a unique and thorough way. And if you ever wanted to know why the missing Book of Enoch was left out of the Bible, or where the Freemasons originated, look no further than this book.
If you ever get a chance to read it, do so; it's definitely something to get your teeth into. But not my copy, ok? They have a couple of other books that look like they might be worth reading as well. If you have one of those, I'll do you a swap. If you are nice. :-D
Today's prophesy - Your lucky stone for the week is chalcedony.
|
Monday, September 13, 2004
Do not disturb
Your thin end for today:
I was never a thirteen year old.
I did not listen to strange and ugly music. I did not lock myself away in my room. I did not dress up in outrageous gear and I certainly NEVER sang in front of the mirror. That is the behaviour of a seriously disturbed person. Or a teenager.
Chant with me: My daughter is not like her mother. My daughter is not like her mother. My daughter is not like her mother. Now you're getting it :-)
I was not disturbed, though I was a fighter right from the start. Not only does Raewyn have good cause to remember that but also the scar to prove it. And she even remembers how it got there :-)
Jam my bloody fingers in the car door and think I won't belt you with a piece of pipe for your trouble...
I remember being four years old and travelling across Cook Strait not long after the Wahine sank. I remember watching the welders arc flashing brightly from inside the Wahine's hull as they began the process of removing her from the harbour.
I also recall being an all-but-16-year-old listening to Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy on the Radio the night of November 28th 1979 when an Air New Zealand DC-10 crashed onto Mt Erebus, taking all 257 people onboard with her.
That's a hard one to forget. But I cannot recall ever being 13.
I think I would have hated to be an only child; who would I have tortured? Myself? That would be like self-mutilation or self-flagellation or self-abuse or something self-ish...
Today's prophesy - We are making history one day at a time. What did you make today?
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I was never a thirteen year old.
I did not listen to strange and ugly music. I did not lock myself away in my room. I did not dress up in outrageous gear and I certainly NEVER sang in front of the mirror. That is the behaviour of a seriously disturbed person. Or a teenager.
Chant with me: My daughter is not like her mother. My daughter is not like her mother. My daughter is not like her mother. Now you're getting it :-)
I was not disturbed, though I was a fighter right from the start. Not only does Raewyn have good cause to remember that but also the scar to prove it. And she even remembers how it got there :-)
Jam my bloody fingers in the car door and think I won't belt you with a piece of pipe for your trouble...
I remember being four years old and travelling across Cook Strait not long after the Wahine sank. I remember watching the welders arc flashing brightly from inside the Wahine's hull as they began the process of removing her from the harbour.
I also recall being an all-but-16-year-old listening to Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy on the Radio the night of November 28th 1979 when an Air New Zealand DC-10 crashed onto Mt Erebus, taking all 257 people onboard with her.
That's a hard one to forget. But I cannot recall ever being 13.
I think I would have hated to be an only child; who would I have tortured? Myself? That would be like self-mutilation or self-flagellation or self-abuse or something self-ish...
Today's prophesy - We are making history one day at a time. What did you make today?
|
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Where possible, credit has been given or is marked as "Unknown", except for jokes - I don't make up jokes. I never was any good at that shit. All other content comes straight from the Brain of Moi.
I reserve the right to retain ownership of my own drivel, hence that pretty little copyright symbol twisting gently just below. Thank you very much :-)
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