Not Cool Enough for a Threesome

Last post I found my mojo. This post I lost it.

What a roller coaster week.

Scene 1: At the computer in the kitchen

I have one friend, M, who will ping me with an Instant Message, day or night, whenever he comes online. Even if it is just a "Good Morning LP!" Since M and his wife K live out of town, I use MSN to chat and keep up to date on the latest gossip.

M recently took a trip to Europe for work, but still managed to drop me a MSN nudge when he was online with his laptop. On the home front K had been updating her MSN profile daily with a note about how she was excited to see M in 5, 4, 3... number of sleeps. She was telling me instead of overseas phone calls they just would video conference using MSN. Technology supported love at its best!

Very late one evening in North America I noticed M had just signed in. Being early in Europe, I surmised he was just starting his day so I clicked on his avatar to give him a ping and sent a request to start a IM conversation. Uncharacteristically he didn't reply right away, so I pinged him a few more times to see what could be keeping him. Attached is the following transcript of my conversation:

LP [pinging M]: What's up in Europe?

There was no reply from M, so I thought I should try one more time before signing off and heading to bed.

LP [pinging M]: I see K's countdown to see you is almost at day zero, when are you flying back?

Then, out of the blue I got this instant message from his wife:

K: LP, stop pinging my man! I'm on video conference with him !!!

LP: Oh,

K: You'll have to wait until I'm done! ! !

LP: You can conference me in you know... all 3 of us can get cozy on MSN!

K [after a slight pause]: M says no go! Wait your turn!

LP: So what you're saying is I'm not cool enough to even have a digital threesome with you guys.
K: Nope :)

With that last smiley I realized my recently acquired mojo had evaporated away into the digital environment. Oh well, easy come, easy go.

Scene 2: Corner of Robson & Burrard

Then, out of town with friends a few days later, three of us were discussing where to meet up at the end of our post Boxing Day shopping spree.

"I'll be done by 4, can we meet then?"

"I don't think I'll be finished by then, and I want to stay in the Chapters reading books for free instead of buying them."

"Wait, why don't you just IM me on my phone!"

"Oh, you're right. OK, everybody just IM everyone when you're done shopping and ready to meet up!"

Once settled, and after a moment's pause a thoughtful comment was put out to the group of us. "We're like 12 year olds with our instant messaging!"

"Yes, but since we're all over 30, we're like 12 year olds with MONEY! 30 is the new 12!"

Conculsion:

So it is settled. I have no mojo, IM like a 12 year old, but to make up for it I have money. Curses!

Pr0n recked this post

It was 3am I had this great blog post all though up. It had all the makings: good idea, great delivery and a wicked picture. So good, in fact, that I got out of bed to write it down before I forgot my the flowing prose running through my head. How good, you ask. You all would have loved it and even given me a digg.

Heading into the kitchen where the computer was, I opted to keep the lights off so I wouldn’t be sidetracked from my task. I also didn’t want to distract any neighbors that may have wondered what I was typing on the computer at 3am while dressed in my best pair of white underwear. After booting up the computer I started to type, but the reflection in the computer screen of a naked woman, arched in ecstasy threw me off.

Yes, my neighbor forgot to close his blinds again and he was watching his nightly dose of pornography, which was reflecting into my kitchen and onto my computer screen. Now, this isn't the first time he's been busted. The first time I was on my roof cleaning the gutters and, knowing the old man lives there, couldn't for the life of me figure out where the groaning sound was coming from. He’s at least at least 90 years old, maybe 80 looking on a good day, so every time he does this, it totally catches me off guard. It’s like seeing Miss Teen USA drinking in a bar, even though you know she’s underage and the spokesman for MADD.

Watching Chinese pornography in either fast-forward, or fast-reverse, or on ultra-slow (both directions), he just sits there. Maybe he’s busy reading the sub-titles to do anything else. Well, he does chain smoke, but that’s as much activity as he gets into, thank goodness.

My great idea of a post wrecked, I sighed, and headed back upstairs to bed. I nudged my wife, the images fresh in my mind, and whispered breathlessly into her ear, “Did you know Chinese pornography is sub-titled?”

She didn’t move. Not even a twitch. Darn, I was looking forward to explaining that one to her. Or would I explain it in reverse?

Shower with a buddy

“Hey Trevor, want to head into the shower together and conserve some water?”

”Sure LP, just let me grab my towel.”

Hold up. Let’s rewind that.

I was listening to KEXP this week while I was researching a forthcoming article. Steaming real time online but located in Seattle, KEXP.org is billed as commercial free public, programming a wide variety of music spanning multiple genres, including alternative rock, electronic, world, roots, jazz, hip hop and blues. If you happen to get one of the genres you like, it's a nice mix of independent music you probably don't have at home.

At least I thought it was commercial free – until today when a public service announcement that was given by the mayor of Seattle himself came online. After introducing himself Mr. Nickles gave a short announcement on the water conservation efforts. He shared several tips, such as not letting taps run when you brush your teeth, collecting and using rain water for your garden, and installing efficient shower heads, faucets and toilets.

He finished his list with “One more tip, shower with a buddy.”

Excuse me? That caught me off guard. I can think of showering with my spouse, young children if necessary, but my buddy? I can just see that discussion going down next time one of my buddies comes over and looks a little dirty.

“Hey Trevor, want to head into the shower together and conserve some water?”
”Sure LP, just let me grab my towel.” pause “NOT!” (Those of you that have seen Borat know what the NOT! I am talking about.)

I may be into public radio, be liberal and open minded in my attitude towards society, but I am pretty sure I’ll draw water conversation line to just showering with my “buddy” called my wife.

I’m sure my biking buddies will be quite relieved.

And now back to our regular programming.. I hope.

My first threesome

She had her eyes closed, pretending to sleep, but after nine years I knew her too well for that. Just to check, I kissed her softly on the lips to see if she was really asleep, but the slight response told me no. Her eyes stayed closed as we continued to kiss, but her arms moved up to pull me in.

There was a crash in the background, followed by the squeaking as the door at the bottom of the stairs slowly opened. We stopped, mid kiss, as from past experiences we knew the slightest sound would give our location away.

A few moments later the stairs began to squeak as we heard our newly awake guest ascending towards our room. We pulled the covers over our head, hoping she would pass us over. No luck. As the pitter patter sound of feet grew nearer a small blond mop of tossled hair popped up above the mound of pillows on the mattress and squealed with delight "Mommee! Daddeee! Uppie! Uppie!"

With that, we froze, hoping if we appeared asleep she would go back downstairs to see if her brother was up to play yet. Unfortunately that was not the case this morning...

Next we heard the sounds of a 1 year old struggling to mount the bed, which she did swiftly considering it was at chin height for her. Once mounted she quickly climbed over my wife, briefly looked at both of us and then planted a wet, open mouth kiss, complete with a smack sound, on each of our cheeks. Satisfied she had bought her entry into our bed with her cuteness she slid under the covers, directly between the two, of us and let out a big satisfying sigh.

I rolled back over to my side of the bed and slowly spoke to the two girls in my bed: "Somehow I imagined my first threesome to be..." I paused to think before I continued on, "What's the word I'm looking for? More fulfilling? Less indifferent to the company? I'm not sure of the word, but this just isn't the feeling I thought it would be."

My wife looked over at the two of us and quipped, "well, look on the bright side - at least it happened with a cute blond and hot brunette."

As if on cue our youngest lifted the covers back from the 3 of us and let out a gargantuan giggle.

Parenting: the reason we don't need cable TV for entertainment.

Nice Coccyx

Did you ever have one of those moments you never thought would happen to you, until it happened? And then you agonized if you should tell anyone? Well, this was one of those moments and thank goodness I have the anonymity of a blog to share the story...

"So how does it feel?" I inquired to my physiotherapist as he probed my lower back around my painful areas. Pings of pain, feelings of strain and inability to bike too far - all in a days feeling for me.

Ever since I lived to experience the Difference of a Second, I've been working with my Physiotherapist to get back into Ironman worthy shape. I still have a long way to go...

"Hmm, just a second," he replied as he moved down and started to adjust my tailbone with the palms of his hands. It's a funny feeling, having ones tailbone adjusted that is. Usually there are creaks and pops as he pokes and pushes down on my butt with the palms of his hands. From a pure observers view I'm sure it looks like one guy massaging another guys ass. However, when medical necessity is involved, I would hope more latitude is given... at least that's what I'll tell myself if anyone walks in on us. I could just see all the Brokeback Physiotherapist comments coming out of that.

"Ahhhhh, ok" I heard him exhale as he finished and moved his hands slightly outwards to check the rest of my muscle reflexes on my buttocks and hips. "You know, all considering you're feeling pretty good to me." At that exact moment he had his hands on my ass. Not just on my ass, but rubbing my ass.

Mental note: Must see a sexy lady physiotherapist for next time I feel the need to ask that question.

What is my lesson for the post? Never say never, because when medical visits are involved, never really means it will happen - probably when you least expect it.

The Curse of Being Polite

I flew down to Seattle last weekend with some friends and, being the polite blogger I am, I let my friends go through first when we all reached the boarding gate. Big mistake.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think being polite would require me to unbuckle my belt for a man wearing a fake badge and, even worse, with rubber gloves sticking out of his pocket ready for action.

“Have your boarding passes ready please,” the customs agent announced to us all as we filed through into the metal detector line. He droned on, waving everyone in front of me into the screening machine. “Thank you, pass through. Thank you, pass through. Thank you, pass through”

“Hold up sir.” I heard directed towards me as I tried to step past. “Random screening check, step this way please.” He pointed towards an area beside an empty table, calling out to his workmates “Doing a random! Doing a random!”, like it was some sort of reality show prank. Damn, I’ve been Random’d, I thought. It’s like being Punk’d, only they have the legal authority to use rubber gloves.

He then asked a most disturbing question: “Would you like this done in a private room, or is this public space ok?”

“I guess this is ok.” I replied, hoping that if I chose public, the rubber gloves would stay safely stowed away. After a few attempts of incorrectly following his next set of instructions I finally seemed to “assume the correct screening position”, my arms out to the side, and legs slightly apart. He turned on is portable metal detector and proceeded to run his wand over me, finally stopping as it continued to beep at my belt buckle.

“Open your belt please,” he ordered. I got the impression this was going to be the highlight of his day so I went with it. Looking around I saw my friends had all stopped to watch, as if viewing some horrific traffic accident unfolding in slow motion. I now know it is possible to have ones mouth agape and snicker at the same time.

After his wand cleanly passed over me I took it as a sign to buckle back up. Unfortunatly I was wrong - “No sir, I asked you to open your belt buckle. Wide open please.” He continued wanding my pelvic area for contraband and then made the motion for me to spin around. Arms still outstretched I pivoted, like a ballet dancer, only with hiker boots and an unbuckled belt. At this point my friends snickers became auitory. What a start to the trip. I was determined to be graceful to the end, so I reached down to do my belt back up, not so much for my fashion sense of an open belt buckle, but more so to prevent my shorts dropping right then and there.

“No sir, wait until I tell you to buckle it back up.” I heard from behind. Now stop and re-read that line. I decided right then and there that I didn’t ever want to be in a position to hear that line again. I started to sweat, and my friends started to add facial expressions to their noises.

Apparently growing bored of telling me what I could do with my belt, he moved into my carry-on luggage. Unzipping my bag he started pulling out my clothes, inspecting them as he went. At this point it was at least 5 or 6 minutes into my search and all I could think of was next time I’m going to pack dirty underwear at the top, regardless of my trip starting or finishing.

A thin smile appeared on his face as he rummaged around in the bottom of my bag. I started to think maybe he had watched the French Connection recently and saw me as his next big bust? Sensing he was getting warm, he triumphantly pulled out my tube of Crest toothpaste and, more strangely, like he was caressing a beautiful vase, gently held it up to the light for a closer inspection. Except in the actual toothpaste aisle at the local pharmacy I’ve never seen anyone look at a toothpaste tube with such reverence. Time seemed to slow as he stood in awe, gazing at my toothpaste tube.

Finally, after he let a sign of satisfaction quietly escape from his lips, he placed the toothpaste back into my bag, stuffed my now unfolded clothes back on top and zipped my bag up. “Thank you sir. Going to the US means tighter security, I hope you understand.”

“Yeah, no problem,” I muttered as I grabbed the rest of my items from the inspection table, turning towards my friends.

“Oh, and you can do your belt up now.” I hear him say from behind. Damn. Twice in one day. I headed over to my group of friends, who still stood watching the event come to a close. I’m sure they all secretly hoped I would get busted for something, just so they could say they were there when it happened.

“Whew,” I breathed, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve used up my quota of unbuckling my pants for the weekend.”

One of them shook his head slowly, looked me up and down and said with a slow, contemplative tone, “You know LP, all these years I’ve known you and I figured you for a Colgate man. You disappoint.”

I guess you never really know somebody until you see them get pulled for a random search at the airport.

Scam Warning

Generally, I hate the warnings that get sent around, but I have to admit that this one is important. Please protect everyone you know by sending this posting to your entire email or blogging list.

If a man comes to your door and says he is conducting a survey and asks you to show him your bum, do NOT show him your bum.

This is a scam - he only wants to see your bum.

I wish I'd got this yesterday. I feel so stupid and cheap.

That thumping is thumping

Last weekend I headed into Vancouver to enjoy the festivities of Easter. A weekend of Church, chocolate and re-confirming the results of my 1st annual cinnamon bun tour; All I can say is that their was much rejoicing... (some of it happened at Church too).

But Easter can wait! I heard the little voices on my shoulder say. At lunch I had surreptitiously loaded the kids up with chocolate, known full well they were staying at their grandparents place that evening. Payback time! I thought, Our turn to wind them up and leave!

With the kids staying at their grandparents I mentally readied for a monumental night of partying out on the town. After a great dinner out somewhere on famed Robson Street I headed to bed to sleep, or so I thought. Unfortunately my sleep was nowhere near the childless tranquility I had envisioned - I was constantly jolted awake from the incessant noise of a party downstairs from us. Crying, sootherless wails had been replaced that evening with thumping music and laughter interspersed with screams of joy, all echoing up into the courtyard. I finally dozed off around 1am, sleeping lightly as I subconsiously tossed and turned to the thumping beat. Around 3am my wife came into the room.

"You asleep?" she whispered.

"Mmmmn...what time is it?" I croaked, keeping my eyes closed but sticking my head out from underneath the multitude of pillows.

"Three eighteen...we've been up chatting." she replied, referring to Sandritia, our host for the evening. "You get any sleep?"

"Not really, the thumping music is too loud."

As if on cue Sandritia stuck her head in "Nope, that's not music...that on and off thumping is...well..thumping, if you get my drift?"

"Until 3am? It's been going on since 10pm!" I'm not sure if I was jealous or upset they kept me from my slumber.

"Maybe we should go down and join the party?" one of the girls suggested. I'm pretty sure it wasn't my wife...but I was in a dazed and dreamy state.

"Mmmm, only 50/50 chance it's actually thumping." I noted, sitting up and straining to hear the sounds more clearly.

"Well, those are still pretty good odds!" my wife quipped, turning to our host.

"You're right, I'll go get the ice-cream and some spoons to go!" our host quickly replied, the words trailing her into the kitchen.

Overheard downtown today

"Hey K, how you doing? You look cute in that outfit!"

"Cute? I was going for more sluttish..."

"Well..."

"I guess that's ok because it's what I wore to work, and I probably should be more cute than sluttish there."

"Yeah, I bet that whole elementary school teacher thing can be a drag sometimes..."

Costco Scam

The following scam warning was emailed to me this week. Although I don't shop at Costco frequently I found it useful to know about, 'just in case'.

I don't know how many of you shop at Costco, but this may be useful to know. I have become a victim of a clever scam while out shopping. This happened to me and it could happen to you.

Here's how the scam works: Two seriously good-looking 18-year-old girls come over to your car as you are packing your shopping in the trunk. They both start wiping your windshield with a rag and Windex, with their breasts almost falling outof their skimpy t-shirts. It is impossible not to look. When you thank them and offer them a tip, they say 'No' and instead ask you for a ride to another Costco. You agree and they get in the back seat. On the way,they start having sex with each other. Then one of them climbs over into the front seat and performs oral sex on you, while the other one steals your wallet. I had my wallet stolen last Tuesday, Wednesday, twice on Thursday, again on Saturday, and also yesterday.

Man, next time I go to Costco I'm going to pack my wallet with Monopoly money so it looks like a bigger target!

Big Brother took my kids away.

Out of the blue, with no warning she matter of factly asked me: "Do you want more kids?"

Isn't that the type of question that you usually warm your spouse up to? No Wasn't little Jonny cute today in the bath? No Look at the adorable curls on little Sally.

With not so much as a drop of verbal foreplay, I was totally thrown off guard. Like a tidal wave, hundreds of images invaded my thoughts all at once. My kids first walk, first laugh and first time they said "da", asking for me. Restlessly sleeping on a cold hospital floor in pediatrics ICU for a week, teaching them how to make snow angels in the winter, helping them master all the animal sounds from Baby Einstein. Would I do it again? Grow the family? How could I answer this question so quickly?

My thoughts were shattered instantly as she continued on "Because Big Brothers is coming by tomorrow for household donations and I put out all my maternity clothes."

What? Flooding thoughts give way to the eye of the storm...calm and collected, but unsure what I was really in the middle of.

"And that means...?" I said, now really confused as to where this was going, and where it came from.

"...so that means no more, because I will have nothing to wear."

"Well," I slowly answered. "I guess that's it for us then."

[Long pause]

"And you better not blog about this!" Good thing she doesn't read it too often... but even if she does and I don't get any because of it, that won't matter because we're not having anymore kids anyways...