A Dill-y of a Pickle

Power "TOOLS" For Girls

Wow!  It's been a while since I've written one of these.  Guess I've been busy, huh?  Well, the truth of the matter is,  I HAVE been busy.  I've moved a couple of times in the past 5 months and it's left little time for writing.  Getting dumped really sucks too, but that's another Weekly Pickle (after I get done taking all these pesky 12 step classes for broken hearts/dissolved relationships). 

Anyway, back to my original thought(s).  Ah, digression!  What a nefarious mind set.  Lemme see, what's been happening lately?  Oh yea,  I went on a cruise last week.  It was a blast!  It was one of those cruises where you get on a boat and they take you to different ports of call and you eat like a pig and spend lots of money.  This particular cruise went to Mexico.  The ports of call included Progresso, Cozumel and Belize.  It was OK, but every place we stopped was filled up with nothing but Mexicans!   Sheesh!  If I wanted tacos, I would have stayed at home and eaten Taco Bell all week.  The cruise itself was rather fun and I learned quite a bit from it.  I'd like to impart a few sagacious words for all of you who plan on taking a cruise in the near future.

First of all, brush up on your Spanish if you're going on a Mexican adventure.  I'm still not to sure what  ( pardon my phonics here) Pen Day Ko  and  Ca Broan mean, but they must be friendly phrases.  Mexicans were saying those two charming phrases to me all week long!  What a great country!  I felt so welcome there.

Traveling on a ship for a week can be fun also. It's kind of nice having someone else make your bed for you every morning.  Let's face it.  It's just fun having someone clean up after your sorry ass for a whole week. Especially the bathroom. 

One thing you don't want to do is take one of those short little Gilligan's Island tours.  Especially if the captain of the boat looks like he just got done drinking a bottle of rum.  One other woman and I signed up for an Island Hopping jaunt for a day in Belize.  It started out OK, but soon turned disastrous.  The Captain either fell asleep or was so drunk that he couldn't read his navigation charts!  He ended up crashing his boat into a coral reef on a deserted Island about 20 miles from nowhere and we were stranded there.  After we all swam to shore, nature started taking its course and the Captain and I started looking at the single woman who was with us.  One thing lead to another and before we knew what happened the woman had sex with both of us. Again and again.  This went on for a few days while we were stranded on the island.  I guess the woman started feeling guilty because she killed herself. 

Once again, nature took it's course and the Captain and I started eyeing each other and we both knew that sex was our main concern.  Needless to say we finally decided to do the right thing and we buried her. 

Cya all next time!

Necro Pickle

HEAD FOR THE HILLS

Well, I finally moved to the mountains of Western, NC and an experience I had the other day reaffirmed that fact.  I'm waiting for my house to be built (favorite word here in the Smokey's is 'tomorrow') and am currently living in a trailer.  Actually, as far as trailers go--it's a damned nice one.  It has 2 full baths and no bullet holes. The following are just a few glimpses into mountain life:

Irving

Anyway, the lack of bullet holes in my trailer isn't the point of this story.  Irving is the point.  Irving is my newly adopted pet Skink. http://www.hastingsreserve.org/Herps/HerpPics/Skink.jpg .  I was happily inebriated and laying on the couch watching golf and also watching a spider crawl lazily across the living room floor.  'Damn spiders' I thought to myself.....Before I could say 'Beaver Cheese' a Skink ran from underneath the couch and pounced on the spider.  I felt like Marlin Perkins (My friend Irving is safely eating the spider while my happy fat ass is perched majestically on this couch.')  Irving was immediately allowed to live in peace under my sofa.  He was also granted amnesty from a size 13 tennis shoe.  Irving is my buddy.  He's my pal.  He eats the spiders I'd have to kill if my girlfriend saw them first.  Irving is in my will.



Hunting

My landlord asked me if I'd like to go Deer hunting with him the other day.  It was July 25th.  I figured--what the fuck?  Let's go!  I'm up for this.  I realize that deer hunting usually takes place in the latter part of the year, but decided I'd probably miss something if I didn't go.  So I went.  My Landlord spotted a deer.  He shot it.  We hadn't got out of the cab of the truck.  Well, we did get out of the truck to drag the carcass down a steep hill that tore most of the meat off the deer.  But, what the hell, it was dead--what did it care?  Poor Bambi.


Drinking and the local liquor store

What can I say about this?  This is a dry county and most if not all men in the area make their own' shine.'  This isn't a bad thing.  As a matter of fact, my lighter is much better equipped now.  As is my liver.  The closest liquor store is probably about 500 hundred yards from me.  It's in my neighbors basement.  He makes some of the best 'Brandy' (AKA: Shine) that I have ever had.  It makes my nipples hard when I take a sip of it.  It must be good if it does that, right?  I think I'll take some women there who have big floppy titties and tight fitting shirts and see if it has the same effect on them.



Trout Fishing

I've always loved to fish.  Any kind of fishing is fun.  It's a great way to kill an afternoon.  I had an opportunity to go trout fishing in a mountain stream here and learned a lot about it.  The first thing to remember about trout fishing is that you don't need a bass pole to catch the trout. I'd recommend using some type of miniature ultra lite rod and reel combo.  Otherwise, like me, you'll end up with a broken bass pole. So, if you're crawling up the side of a mountain in thick underbrush, do not carry a 6 foot pole to catch 6-8 inch trout.  Hip waders can also be employed for this adventure, but if you're like me you'll just fall in and fill them with water before the day is over, so I recommend just wearing an old pair of jeans and hiking boots.


Mountain Climbing

When you live in this part of the world, mountain climbing is an everyday thing.  There's just no way around it.  For instance:  My driveway has over 300 feet of elevation difference from the bottom to the top.  And yes,  gravity likes to beat me up regularly on my driveway.  'Timmy fall down--go BOOM' is my usual catch phrase when my girlfriend asks me why my Big Boy pants are all muddy or why I have a huge gash in an appendage.  I seem to get bruised up quite a bit in this area.  Damn gravity!


Driving in the mountains

Unless you are used to hairpin turns with 500 foot drop offs around each turn, don't even try and drive in this area.  The roads are very windy and curvy and fraught with the unexpected.  I was driving through a gorge a few weeks ago when I met a cement truck coming around one of those hair pin turns.  The bastard was in my lane.  I had three choices:  1.  A head on collision.  2.  Swerve sharply to the left and take my chances with a 500 foot tour to the bottom of the gorge.  3.  Take a hard right and trade some paint with the gorge wall.  I opted for number three.  My poor car has seen way too much adventure here.  And one other observation on driving here.  If you happen to get behind a car with Florida plates (colloquially known as Floridiots) just pull over and eat lunch.  It will generally take the Floridiot an extra 4 hours to get where they are going.

cyall next time!

StickyPickle

THE PICKLE GUT....EXPLAINED 

Love Handles. The Beer Gut. The Portable Beer Mobilization Unit. The Spare Tire.  The Paunch.  The Milwaukee Tumor.  Where in the hell do these names originate?  Duh.  I saw myself in a reflection from at least 50 feet the other day and didn't recognize the chubby, starting to gray man looking back at me.  It was a sobering thought to realize I had hit my mid forties.  More sobering however, was the fact that my girlish high school figure had transmutated some years back and I hadn't really noticed until that moment.  What a rude joke on me.  Ha! friggin Ha!  I had put on (at least) twenty extra pounds in the last 20 years.  What a rude friggin joke.

I won't try to attribute the excess weight gain to clean living and a Nun-like existence.  Trust me, the last twenty years haven't been.  It couldn't have been my decadent, slovenly, culinary rituals/habits?  It couldn't have been all the beer?  Or, could it be so?  Perish the thought!  Oh, pschaw!  It couldn't be the fact that my exercise regimen consisted of little more than playing golf on summer weekends? I was never one to test my physical endurance in anything more strenuous than cleaning the pool, shoveling the snow and cutting the grass.  I was paying for it now.  What a rude friggin joke. 

I guess it was time to take action!  Time to develop a plan!  Time to grab the Bull by the horns and..........Ya, right.  Who in the hell was I kidding besides myself?  I'd usually had no problem in losing the extra ten or so pounds I gained every winter. I'd just do the normal spring stuff and it was gone by pool season.  I hadn't remembered doing that in close to 4 years however, and that really started to scare the bejesus out of me.  This will go away all by itself, right?  It's just a temporary thing.  I'll never need to buy larger pants than the ones I have right now, correct?  I just looked at my inseam and waste measurements.  I am now taller lying down than I am standing up.  What a rude friggin joke.

I guess it's time to accept various words and phrases like 'lard ass,' 'chunky monkey,' 'stout,' full cut,'  'well-fed' and OK, I'll stop now.  I'm feeling pretty bad the way it is. How in the hell did this happen to me anyway? It's not like I have rolls and rolls of fat.  I just have this 'thing' that used to be my stomach.  It's like I have a cancerous appendage that has gone undetected until only a few short days ago.  I wonder if women feel this way about their ass(es)?  I don't like it any longer.  I want it to go away.  I wish that I could lay on my back and allow little  Fatty Aliens to pop out of it and run away.  That would be cool.  How easy!  What a story for the guys!  But no, I think I know what it's going to take to get rid of this and I don't like it.  What a rude friggin joke.

It looks like I'll have to do the exercise thing.  It looks like I'll have to lay off the carbs (beer/pizza).  Oh, God!  Please, emasculate me now!  I thought I had reached the point in my life where hard work and self-abstinence were things of the past.  It looks like it will be part of my daily regimen now.  Is there a moral here somewhere?  I hope not.  I'd really hate to think I'm missing something.  I wonder if diet pills and exercise videos will help?  That way I could still have a beer or two on the weekends and the occasional dinner roll.  NOPE!  I have to do several things I don't want to do.  Quit drinking beer, quit eating carb based food and start exercising.  What a rude friggin joke. 


My girl friend just got done reading the above paragraphs.  She says my stomach is not 'that' bad and a little exercise is all I need to help shed some unwanted weight.  I mention some various 'exercises' we could both participate in right now and get 1.The evil eye, 2.The finger and 3.The cold shoulder for several minutes.  We both pout and retreat to neutral corners.  She breaks the silence first and says she will be my 'trainer', my 'coach', my 'dietician', my chief cook and bottle washer.  She also states that she will be more than happy to join me on a diet because she could stand to lose a few pounds too. (She's never looked better in her life and has no more than 3% body fat).  But, she's Gung Ho about turning me into a newer version of my old self.  She's almost like a cheer leader in her enthusiasm.  She's planning meals.  She's calling the gym.  She's taking me out to the store for a new 'outfit' to exercise in.  She's telling me how much better I'll feel after I drop a few pounds.  She's telling me about the new wardrobes that both of us will need after we lose the weight.  She's telling me..............................  What a rude friggin joke.    

Hope to see you again before I die!


Sticky Pickle

THE PURSE

What can be said for the purse?  Is it really necessary?  Is it as pragmatic as a woman often feels it is?   Generally, I tend to stay away from  purses.  They scare me.  I've never understood their use or function.  Quite frankly, I'd like to shoot the man who invented them. 

Wait a minute, I digress.  When I was a young child my mother's purse seemed to hold all varieties of magical goodies.  An assortment of gums, candies and band aids could always be easily ascertained from within it's confines.  As could the seemingly endless supply  of her white hankies that she used to spit on before cleaning my candy/mud filled face.  Maybe it's because of that memory that purses still tend to scare the bejesus out of me?  Probably, but I don't think I'll have any deep seated fears that need serious psychological attention because of the experience.  I got over it.  I'll live. 

The thing I can't get over and continue to live with is the mysterious shroud that envelopes the purse and all its supposed function.  Why is the purse guarded by a woman with the ferocity of a Tiger guarding her young?  It truly amazes me.  Other than the obvious money/credit cards and photos, what else could a woman possibly put in one of those things that would be worth so much?  I found out recently (see  the last Weekly Pickle) and it deeply disturbed me.  I think I may be scarred for life because of the epiphany.

Purses come in all shapes, sizes and colors.  Once, while boarding  a (small)  plane the obese woman in front of me was stopped by a flight attendant and told that she would have to check her 'carryon' luggage before getting on the plane because it would neither fit under a seat or in the overhead storage. The woman became very indignant and insisted that the bag she had was her 'purse'.  The bag itself was twice the size of my carry-on. After a delicate exchange of words, the woman's purse was stowed in the belly of the plane.  I told the woman not to feel bad.  I was letting them stow my 'purse' too.  I held up my carryon to prove my point.  I've also seen purses used as weapons and made a mental note to avoid the obese woman once we deplaned.  I sure didn't want to take a chance at getting hit in the coconut with her 'purse'.  I've also seen purses that hold little more than a set of keys, a pack of gum, a tampon and a credit card.  I'm willing to bet that those types of purses are merely decorative in nature and socially unacceptable in any establishment that may have Nickel Beer and Wing night. Once again, that's just a thought, but I'll bet it's an astute one.   

Another thing that amazes me about purses is the weight factor.  I've lifted a few purses that weighed no more than a pound or two.  Others must have been Super Man proof, because I'm certain they were lead lined.  Why on earth should a purse weigh more than a pound or two?  I just weighed the entire contents of all four of my pockets.  The grand total was one pound two ounces.  That included a wallet, a business card holder, a large set of keys, a Zippo lighter and close to 2 dollars in varying denominations of change.  Am I traveling too light?  Do I need to fill my pockets with more 'stuff' to make myself feel prepared or more 'manly'?  I don't think so.  I'm pretty happy with one pound two ounces.

Sometimes a woman can really debilitate a man with her purse.  Making him carry it in public is inexcusable.  Especially if he's not wearing matching shoes!  Yes, I've been stared at in a public place holding an ex girlfriends purse while she tried on some new clothes in a department store.  Several groups of people noticed my plight and smiled and laughed at me while I was standing there red-faced.  Of course, the perfect retort in this situation is" Does this purse make my ass look fat?"  I sure am glad I can think on my feet.  Speaking of feet, women should NEVER get in a car and throw the purse in between a mans legs if he is the passenger in the car.  That act is totally inexcusable.  If you feel the need to set your purse in that location of the car, please offer to let him drive.  I wear size 13 shoes and when there is a purse crammed down in that confined area with my john boats there is no room left over to move.  Please put your purse behind us in the back seat or ask us to do it for you.  Thank you very much.

I really don't think it would be a wise idea for me to discuss the contents of women's purses here, but I'll try anyway.  As I've mentioned before I rarely, if ever delve into the inner trappings of a woman's purse.  It seems wrong to do so.  It's almost like staring at a terrible car accident or using a woman's rest room.  You don't want to do it, but you do it anyway.  I have looked into three purses in my life.  The contents of each mirrored the personality of the woman who owned them.  The first one I looked into belonged to my first wife.  Of course, it was filled with about 27 different kinds of mood elevators and condoms.  She also had loose candy stuck to the bottom, old concert ticket stubs from 5 years prior, breath freshener, pictures of her current boyfriends (replete with addresses and phone numbers), spare underwear, a toothbrush, tampons, a copy of Our Bodies, Ourselves , bobby pins, half a pharmacy of Tylenol 3 and a dildo.  Yes, she was a mess as clearly evidenced by the innards of her purse.  

The second one I looked into (wife number two) wasn't even a purse.  It was a leather cigarette case.  All she carried in that was her cigarettes, a lighter, two credit cards and drivers license. So simple!  So easy. Why can't all women travel like that?  It sure would be easier at airports, wouldn't it?

The third one I looked into (this past week) is my current girlfriends purse.   Since she might read this, I won't tell you what I found.  Let's just suffice it to say that the contents of her purse mirrored the sweet, innocent, provocative, witty, charming beauty that she really is.  That's right, it was filled with clover and strawberries!  Uh huh, sure it was. 

Cy'all next time!

Sticky Pickle 
   

EARTHQUAKE

We had an earthquake in the Atlanta area a few weeks ago.  It measured 4.9 on the Richter Scale. I have a BS in Geology and I know how the Richter Scale works (exponentially). 4.9 is usually enough to rattle a few window panes.  This one must have been a tick fart, because I didn't feel a thing.  I guess I'm queer on earthquakes or something because  I've always wanted to experience the raw power that the earth can unleash on me.  I've wanted to feel the bouncing and jostling that accompanies a healthy temblor.  Damnit!  I just want to get a free trampoline ride at the expense of plate tectonics.  But, I slept through it.  I had to read about it on line a few hours after it happened. Dopey me.

After missing this rare event, I felt as though I had to right my wrongs.  I felt cheated.  I felt robbed.  Why didn't God wake me up personally and let me know that a seismic activity was going to occur?  Maybe I should go to church sometime?  Naw, to hell with that idea. I'll just take my chances in CA sometime.

Anyway, I decided to visit a few chat rooms after the quake to discover if anyone had actually felt the quake.  I had no idea which chat room(s) to start in, so I picked the Romance ones on AOL.  I visited the 20's, 30's, 40's, 50's, 60's and 70's 'Love' rooms.  I figured everyone would 'love' earthquakes as much as I do, so this was the obvious place to start.  Boy, I was sorely mistaken.  Here's a few excerpts from my experiences:

20's LOVE room

ME:                    Morning all!  Did anyone feel the earthquake in Atlanta this morning?
aolmemberXXX1:  No, but she did!   LMAO

ME:                    Thanks for sharing
aolmemberXXX2:   Go away you old fart!  Your profile says you are 43!  YUK!  Dad?  is
                           that you?   Quit spying on me, you Bastard!  You promised you               
                           wouldn't do this again!!
aolmemberXXX3:   click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!

I promptly changed my screen name and moved on.


30's LOVE room

ME:                     Morning all!  Did anyone feel the earthquake in Atlanta this morning?
aolmemberXXX1:   No, but I'll bet your girlfriend did when I was with her last night!  YOU
                           DORK! 
aolmemberXXX2:   Go away, your profile says you are 43. You're SICK!  Do you enjoy
                           robbing the cradle like this?   I'll bet your wife doesn't know you are
                           in this chat room--GO AWAY you old piece of shriveled up fuck!!   
ME:                     Thanks for sharing
aolmemberXXX3:   click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!



I was hoping for some maturity in the 40's LOVE room.  I was finally going to type with my peers.

40's Love Room       

ME:                     Morning all!  Did anyone feel the earthquake in Atlanta this morning?
aolmemberXXX1:   Yes, we did feel it.  Sounded like a train!  It was scary!
aolmemberXXX2:    I loved it!  It was almost like a Roller Coaster ride!   GREAT stuff!
ME:                      WOW!  Was anything damaged? Are you OK?  Were you hurt?
aolmemberXXX2:    we are fine,  thanks for asking.  Just a few books fell off the shelf.
ME:                      cool, glad to hear you weren't hurt
aolmemberXXX2:    It says you are 43 in your profile.  I'll bet you are either 17 or 77.
                            Who cares about earthquakes when you're 43? Get the fuck out of 
                            this chat room you sick, perverted old/young bastard!! WE don't
                            appreciate LIARS in here.  GO away!
aolmemberXXX3:    click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!


So much for my peers.  I was sorely disappointed and starting to become a tad bit disgruntled.  I was certain I could find positive feedback in a 50's LOVE Room.



50's Love Room

ME:                     Morning all!  Did anyone feel the earthquake in Atlanta this morning?
aolmemberXXX1:   Earthquake in Atlanta?  You're kidding?  Holy SHIT!  Time to diversify
                           my stock portfolio.  Damnit, I have to call my Broker--bbl.
aolmemberXXX2:   OMG, an earthquake?  I have to sign off and call my kids (they are        
                           Brokers)--Oh No!--bbl. I hope they are OK.  This is terrible!!!!!
aolmemberXXX3:    click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX4:   How much of Atlanta fell down?  How many were killed?  Is traffic
                           stockpiled around the loop?  What's the property damage?  Has the
                           President alerted FEMA?  I have to call my Broker--bbl.
aolmemberXXX3:    click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX5:   What part of Atlanta was hit by the Earthquake?  N or S?
ME:                     um, er, golly...I'm pretty sure ALL of it was affected.
aolmemberXXX5:   it hit BOTH parts?  North AND South?
ME:                     I'm pretty sure it hit the East and West parts also, Magellan
aolmemberXXX5:  OH GOD!  I have to call my hair stylist and my broker--bbl.
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX6:   Shit!  It says he's only 43 in his profile!  He's a PUNK!  An alarmist!
                          GO AWAY you stupid little bastard!  Quit scaring the stock out of us!


So much for maturity (and self sacrifice)--Time to hit the rooms my parents now visit.


60's Love Room

ME:                     Morning all!  Did anyone feel the earthquake in Atlanta this morning?
aolmemberXXX1:   Huh?,  whut?   there was an Earthquake?   Where?
ME:                    um, Atlanta---see above (you stupid old bastard)
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX2:  Oh DEAR!  an Earthquake in Atlanta?  I hope Aunt Gertrude is OK
                          I need to sign off and call her, she's my broker, ya know?--bbl
ME:                    was anyone hurt by this mornings earthquake?
ME:                    Hello?
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
ME:                    Hello?   is anyone here?
ME:                    Hello?  Hello?   Talk to me damnit!  You stupid old picies of shriveled
                          up fornication!  ( I liked that one from before--time to use it again)
ME:                    HELLO?   Is it nap time?  is Lawerence Welk on or something?
                          HELLO?
aolmemberXXX4:  what's fornication?
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
ME:                    CLICK on the link #3 just sent---you'll see what it is--please don't tell
                          me you still get moist--OK?   Thanks
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!


After that little foray into obvious bliss, I can hardly wait to retire.  Maybe someone will buy me a pistol when I'm 65?  I can only hope.  Geeze, maybe I can OD on Ex Lax?  Time to check the 70's room.  Damn!  This is gonna hurt--I know it will!!!



70's Love Room

ME:                    Morning all!  Did anyone feel the earthquake in Atlanta this morning?
                           (27 minutes pass)
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX1:  Martha, do you still want to see what I can do with My World's Fair Spoon? 
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX2:  no
aolmemberXXX1:  who's the pissant complaining about an earthquake?
ME:                    That would be me, sir.  Why do you ask?
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX1:  says in your profile you're only 43? 
aolmemberXXX1:  go piss up a rope you stupid little bastard!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!
aolmemberXXX3:  click here for free nude PICS and hot, wet cam action!!

The Pickle has spoken.....

IT'S THE PICKLE AT HIS VERY FINEST

A highly distressed middle aged woman walks into her OBGYN.  When she finally sees the DR she launches into a lengthy diatribe concerning her last three bowel movements.  "Two days ago when I pooped there were at least 100 pennies in my stool and yesterday when I went there were at least 100 nickels and dimes."  She continued..."Today there was at least 20 dollars worth of quarters."  The DR listened to her symptoms intently and then calmly stated "Don't worry Mam, you're just going through 'the change.'

That brings me to the topic for this edition of The Weekly Pickle.  In the following paragraphs I'm going to try (in my limited scope and knowledge on this subject) to explain what 'the change' means to the male gender.  I've been a party to or victim of, depending on your perspective, to the metamorphosis that ends a woman's career in child bearing and I felt that the subject needs some light shed upon it.

Men, get ready to witness a mutation.  Something that is both beautiful and horrendously obscene at the same time. Yes, I'm talking about the end of the female menstrual cycle.  Menopause.  Or The Change, as I've come to know it.  I don't pretend  to be Alan Alda on this subject  nor I do claim to be an unfeeling boor either.  It's just that I've witnessed mood swings that would scare the most chronic sufferer of manic depressive behavoir.  Being bipolar would be a walk in the park compared to what I have seen so far.  I know that there is nothing I can do (other than hide in a bomb shelter*) when these mood swings take place.  I try and give her all the space she needs.  I try and be comforting and supportive.  But I'll be go to hell if that seems to work.  I usually get yelled at for something that has no relevance when I try and help.  I'll try to hold her and reassure her that everything will be OK.  It's just a terrible hormonal imbalance that nature has inflicted upon her right now. Her estrogen and progesterone are at odds with each other in her body and she just can't think straight. I tell her this and try to hold her.  And what do I get in return?  "Get the hell AWAY from me, you know-it-all, smart -ass, DR Ruth looking, greasy, 12 sandwich eating bastard"!  It seems as though her body aches and she can't focus on one stream of consciousness for more than 30 seconds. So, I do what she asks.  I leave her alone.  But this approach doesn't seem to work either.  The next thing I usually hear is "you just don't understand my needs...if you did you'd be here holding me right now."  Shit.  You just can't win. 


Hot flashes are no bargain either.  I came home the other day and she was laying naked in front of the air conditioner and had it on full blast (it was 36 degrees outside).  She had ice dripping from her body.  She was sweating profusely.  Usually this type of scenario would excite me.  She has a killer body that women half her age would love to have.  She's VERY well put together.  But, I noticed that demonic, nefarious look in her eyes that said "Touch me and die, you son-of-a-bitch."  Let's just suffice it to say it wasn't her most attractive 'come hither' look.  I was starting to learn this look and retreated to my bomb shelter* once again.

I do have to give  credit for some self-awareness on her part.  She knows what is happening to her and she took the initiative to see a DR when this started.  At least I didn't have to ask her to do so.  Lord only knows where that request would have gotten me?  Probably into a new bomb shelter* 3 states over.  The DR repeated  what I had told her about her hormones.  I was going to ask her if he was a 'know-it-all' bastard too, but thought better of it.  I had noticed some changes in my responses to her.  Usually I'm a flippant, facetious, almost arrogant bastard when we converse.  I try to make a joke out of our conversations.  Lately I've found myself refraining from that type of behavoir.  I know that I have saved my own ass on more than one occasion by not blurting out the first thing that popped into my head.  It's very hard for me to conform to this type of conversation.  I usually have 30-40 responses lined up for any question or statement thrown my way and narrowing them down to 'one' that fits the occasion without pissing her off is very rough to do.  But, such is my circumstance.      


Of course the DR offered her his heart felt sympathies,  commiserated, and tried to empathize with her circumstances.  He prescribed Serezone and some Tylenol 3.  That stupid bastard should have put her on heroin!  Men, take it from me, the only way to help a woman through this difficult period of her life is with mood/mind altering drugs.  Mood elevators like Prozac, Zoloft and in some extreme cases Xanax, should be employed when dealing with this.  Pot might work too, but I have no personal experience with it's effects on hormonally imbalanced women.  Hormone replacement pills may work for some, but not all.  Remember, it takes a good month for these drugs to kick in and do their job, so be sure to have several bomb shelters* where you can retreat in complete safety. NEVER, under any circumstances administer alcohol when 'The Change ' is in full force.  That's kind of like drinking kerosene and pissing on a brush fire.  Of course you can try and understand her mood swings, but trust me, this attitude will get you nowhere in a hurry.  It's only an exercise in futility.  It's usually best to say something like "I'm giving out free hugs today, would you like one"?  If you see the faintest hint of a nod grab her and hold on for all your worth.  It may be the last chance you get to touch her for weeks/months.

DO NOT demand sex during this transmutation in her body.  Offer to make dinner, clean the house, do the grocery shopping, clean the bathroom, polish all her shoes, iron her friggin clothes if you have to.  In other words, if you want to survive this in one piece, you'll have to kiss some major league ass.  Just make sure you don't do too much to disturb the natural balance of things (as she sees it).  Let's face it.  This is a no win situation for us, guys.  Get used to the fact that you'll be living with a satanic, unhallowed creature that can't decide if she's pissed off or happy because the Smurf's are blue.  If she says she has a pair of gloves that make her ass look fat, RUN!  Don't even think of responding to that one.  Trust me on this one.  RUN!  Do NOT walk---RUN to your nearest bomb shelter* and lock the door for at least 3 days.  Yes, you may feel like an insensitive maroon, but you won't have any backlash from saying something stupid about the gloves either.

I've also done some (personal) research on what is advisable not to say when a woman is in the throes of The Change. And yes, this research nearly cost me my life on several occasions.  The following statements are examples of things you really should not say when your woman is in the midst of The Change:

--  Darlin, could you please grab me a beer?
--  Hehehe, I know it smells funny, want me to light one for you next time?
--  You look lovely in that flannel nightie
--  Are you making Easter Eggs again?  Oooops---nevermind!
--  Damn!  you sure look sexy this morning!
--  oh no!  Judge Judy again?  wait, don't tell me--Oprah is on next?
--  You sure look beautiful today sweetheart!
--  Would you like some toast with your eggs? (I'm still confused on this one)
--  LOOK at that fat bitch!
--  We need to talk (the look alone on this one nearly killed me)
--  Maybe we should wear matching sweaters and sing Show Tunes?
--  Is there any ice cream left?

Guys, these are just a few of the things I said that evoked responses Atilla The Hun would have shied away from.  I said a LOT more than what is listed above (most of it under my breath and out of earshot).  I'm sure you will have your moments when clear, coherent, lucid speech will make no sense to your loved one.  Please note that your breathing will probably piss her off at least once.    

All in all, this has been a real learning experience for me.   I guess I'm fortunate because I don't live with her on a full time basis.   She probably would have killed me by now using me as a piggy bank and stuffing me full of all the spare change she found in the toilet.

Ladies, I do want to apologize if the above mentioned drivel has offended you in any way. I'm merely stating observed fact in this short essay. I'm sure that The Change
is different for each and every one of you. By the way, I do have Piggy Banks for sale for any of you that may need them!

Oh shit!   I hear her car pulling up!   I'm outta here, Jack!

Cya 'all next time.


Scairdy  Pickle



* It's a good idea to keep a supply of fresh clothes, toiletries and beer in any bomb shelter you choose.

THE MAGIC FISH

I drove back to Indianapolis from North Carolina over Valentine's Day to see my daughter.  It had been about 6 weeks since I had seen her and I was really looking forward to the visit.  My girlfriend decided to come with me, which was cool since we had never been on a 'driving' road trip together.  We left late in the afternoon and were able to make last call at the hotel bar where we stayed that evening.  In other words, I averaged about 78 MPH on the way there.  But my driving abilities really aren't the point of this story.  The point is what I learned from my daughter that weekend.  She's only 6 and I was more than surprised with the epiphany I encountered because of her innocence.

I called my ex the next morning to let her know that we had arrived safely and invited her, her husband and the Midget (my daughter) out for a Valentine's Day dinner that evening.  As usual, my daughter occupied the center of attention for most of the evening.  She was excited to see me again and was also excited to tell me about what she had been up to in school and around her house.  We either talk on the phone or video conference on a daily basis, but this conversation with her was different.  She was more animated. More sure of herself.  I realized that she was growing up faster than I wanted her to.  Especially when she ordered Veal Parmesan off the menu all by herself with no help from an adult.  She even pronounced 'parmesan' correctly which amazed me.

Dinner was great.  My girlfriend and my ex talked the whole time I drank beer and talked with my ex-wife's husband.  He's a great guy and the whole evening was wonderful.  Of course, the Midget was afforded every opportunity to share any and all of her thoughts.  She had a LOT of them.  She told me about school and even brought a whole folder full of past assignments to show me.  I noticed she had received A's on all of them and of course I was just as proud of this fact as she was. She also informed me that she had recently gotten a new puppy because she had 'earned' the responsibility.  This interested me, so I queried a bit further.  I asked her how she had 'earned' her new puppy.  Her eyes got big and she told me about the daily assignments her mother had given her.  There are various pets at her house and she was asked to take care of these pets on a daily basis for 2 months to see if she could handle the responsibility of a puppy.  She had been put in charge of the daily care/feeding/cleaning of 4 birds, 2 Hermit Crabs, a cat and a fish. At first she explained all the work that was involved, telling me about cleaning litter  boxes, bird cages and Hermit Crab poop.  She gave close to a three minute dissertation on how to properly care for all these animals and I could tell that she was once again quite proud of herself. So was I.  Her mom had provided some valuable training and I was happy that the Midget had learned responsibility in that fashion.

I thought she had finished telling me that particular story when her eyes got real big and she said "Daddy, Daddy!!!  I forgot to tell you about my Magic Fish."  She looked down at her plate for a moment as if she was a little guilt ridden about something and told me about how she had forgotten to feed it for an entire week.  But then she brightened up again and said "and when I went to check on my fish after a whole week, it had changed colors AND gotten bigger."  I knew immediately that the poor little fishy had gone tits up without food.  I pictured some of my disasters with fish when I was her age and kept my mouth shut.  I then looked at my ex because I knew she was in on this.  She was winking at me so I knew she had replaced the fish.  How in the hell else could of it changed color AND gotten bigger?  Once again I kept my mouth shut and listened to her verbalize her excitement.  It was at this moment that I had the epiphany. 

Memories of my childhood flooded back into my brain.  I was finally realizing some the things my own parents must have done for me when I was just as innocent. The term 'full circle' flashed in my brain momentarily and I remembered a few missing cats and how a puppy magically appeared on our doorstep when I was younger.  Of course the puppy was a replacement.  I wasn't supposed to know about the cats being taken to a farm in the country for early retirement. The experience I had with my daughter that evening made me value my relationship with my own parents even more than I had previously.  It allowed me to see a slice of life that had some meaning.  I can only hope my daughter gets to experience things like this when she gets older and has children of her own.  Who knows, she might even read this sometime?  I doubt it, but it's a nice thought anyway.

I have to go now.  My girlfriend and I are going to a New Sushi Bar here in Atlanta.  I can only hope they don't have Guppies and Goldfish on the menu.

C'yall next time.

StickyPickle  

CLICK THE CHICK FOR PICKLE ARCHIVES