Does your wife like them too?
And it seems that you have two left feet:
Actually, it was my wife who told me about those.
Secondly, it does not matter if both of those are for the same foot, because I am not going to wear those anyway.
With love,
Sanjay
My most recent purchase:
ah gees. Can I come for a visit? [-o< I’ll be your friend forever, Arminius. That is so beautiful.
You’d probably stick me up in the tower. But the scenery - it would be well worth it.
Just make sure that I had water, coffee everyday and good books.
The upkeep on that place will probably kill you unless you rent it out for movies, etc.
That is really beautiful.
To me, the size, scale or the architecture qualities of that villa are not that important. The most beautiful thing about that building is its location and surroundings. It is there just right in the natural beauty, which tends to bloom in unintruded loneliness.
A simple 3-4 room village type cottage would have been not less beautiful than that villa.
With love,
Sanjay
You should visit that castle. The following picture shows it from another perspective:
What did you do that photo? It looks some kind of computer trick.
Nevertheless, I would like to visit that, if I could. Though, I do not know whether that would ever become possible for me or not.
With love,
Sanjay
A computer trick is not necessary at all (=>#). That photo is just taken from another perspective. Maybe that the sky is a little bit “photoshopped” - but not the castle and the landscape.
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I hope that you will visit the castle as soon as possible, Zinnat (Sanjay).
We will have some glasses of large beer then:
The following photo shows my former purchase, Burg Eltz:
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Arminius,
The pictures of that link were beautiful. Thanks for that.
Yes, I like having beer in summer season with some spicy veg salad and Indian Namkeens (snacks) , though I take that only occasionally. I have heard that Germans are very fond of beer.
With love,
Sanjay
I went to Wal-Mart last night intending to spend at least a couple hundred dollars on a bunch of shit I don’t need because I’m a modern hedonist. Instead, I did the same thing I always do; I find something I want, stare at it for five minutes, and then don’t buy it. It’s a psychological thing I think. I like to know I could buy it if I wanted, and that fact satisfies me as much as the thing I end up not buying. I’d rather have the money than the thing the money could buy. I’m like a miser or something.
However, I did end up buying a fantastic coffee mug. The Bubba 18-oz HERO Mug, because I am a hero.
Sleek, chrome black finish, no-leak, lightweight, hardened plastic frame, no-slip bottom so it doesn’t fly off the dashboard at a hard turn and spill all over me, and excellent insulation rating. I’m drinking coffee at this very moment out of my new Bubba 18-oz HERO Mug, in fact, because I am a hero. Did I already say that? Well it deserves repeating, because I am a hero.
Now about the fall fashions I didn’t buy. I didn’t buy any because they’re not on the floor yet, but even if they were, I wouldn’t buy them anyway. The only article of clothing from Wal-Mart I will wear are the fruit of the loom sweat pants, socks, and white t-shits. I either buy brand names new, or from a thrift-store, because I’m a stylish guy. I refuse to wear a t-shirt with a big-ass nascar print on it or those cheesy cargo pants with leg pockets nobody ever uses. One has to be very careful about establishing one’s sociological master status. Wearing clothes from Wal-Mart eliminates several social opportunities in one fell swoop.
…oh and the whole time I was in the store I kept seeing Magnus Anderson’s ugly little English face in that pub eating fish and chips and saying those horrible things to me. Like that little devil sitting on my left shoulder laughing and telling me to buy some Wal-Mart clothes. But I fought the demon and listened to the angel on my right; you are not american trailer trash, Zoot, put the shirt down… DON’T BUY IT!
I bought a dick- smallificator. I hurt girls too much. They keep asking if Im out to kill them.
That’s funny. Years ago my buddy and I were at the mall checking out the guitars at the music store. On the way out we stopped at the GNC. One thing I’ve always enjoyed was making Ryan laugh, because when he starts laughing, he can’t stop. In public this becomes a big event; anybody within fifty feet looks at us like we’re out on a day pass from a mental institution. So in the GNC this super-hot athletic chick worked. I saw my chance and seized the moment. I approached the counter. Ryan doesn’t expect what’s about to happen.
Then I asked her the question.
I know you carry penis enlargement products, but do you have any penis reduction products?
Like a bomb Ryan exploded with laughter and almost fell into the fish-oil. The clerk, now embarrassed as she could be, blushed a little and let an uncomfortable giggle out. ‘No, we don’t have anything like that. Sorry.’
But because Ryan’s laughter is so contagious, she couldn’t resist joining in. I could sense her ambivalence and see the little gears turning in her head: is this guy kidding? He is kinda hot, though… does he really have a big dick? Should I say something else? Will he say something to me? God this is weird, but that was funny. I’ll just stand here and see what happens.
Now of course being a dude with only a medium large apparatus, I would want women to believe I have a large large apparatus, so I didn’t tell her the truth. I didn’t hit on her either because she was above my class, and would only regret getting involved with me. It’s hard being a handsome, intelligent guy who has absolutely nothing in common with most attractive women. I’m in a very lonely place, BH.
Wish I had recorded that incident though. Great comic material.
I use all the pockets in my cargo pants. I have a pocket for id, one for phone, one for keys, one for tools, one for seeds, and one that is exclusively for cool rocks that might look like historical characters.
I read an article once where some psychologist said that cargo pants are popular because they make the dudes legs look more developed than they really are. So you get those guys with skinny little legs who buy like five pairs at a time from American Eagle. They are also modeled off of military uniform, which is an associated masculine symbol.
That’s very funny and yet, racist or sexist. Imagine this, why are women the only ones allowed to display they assets by their sexy way of clothing? I can walk up to a woman or a girl if she is flaunting a nice ass or firm breasts that look real, but unless I wear tight leather or spandex pants no person will ever pick me for my sexual organ in the street.
Some criticisms that need to be said. I dont like coffee from carbonized metal or whatever cups, I want it rom a stone coffee cup or a plastic cheap cuppie from the outside bar. I dont like OJ from plastic containers I need it in a glass. Tea I have not so often, but it better be in a stone cup, if it is in a paper cup I will vomit.
My second most recent purchase was a book about the Roman Empire where I read they didn’t measure the dick but the balls. My penis makes eyes bulge so I assumed always its above average but I never really checked for scrotum size, relative. I think I’m okay. I think I’d make it in the army.
They’re not. You can do it too, man. Today is your lucky day because I’m a retired exhibitionist who’s been arrested like five times for indecent exposure, and I’m gonna help you out. First, you need to watch this introductory video before I school you: youtube.com/watch?v=JV8JPZyJiuE
Now I have done this very thing (minus the camera) more times than I can count… and let me assure, they love it. I had to downgrade to the bulge from indecent exposure after my fourth arrest. It’s not the same intensity or buzz but when you’re an abnormal, sexually deviant paraphiliac like me, you take what you can get. I’ve gotten the best results in book stores. Here’s how it works. You get a semi boner going… not so erect that you pitch a tent in your pants, but not so soft that the member doesn’t produce a bulge. You ease your way down the aisle and place yourself within the proximity of a sexy female; avoid prepubescent teens because you’re no pedophile and they wouldn’t understand what’s going on anyway. But you don’t stalk them… you don’t follow them around like a creep. What you’re giving is an invitation to play, to have a strange, erotic experience with an attractive stranger. They will come to you. Oh, if you aren’t attractive, none of this is going to work, so stop reading. If you are, proceed.
Fuck it I’ll just tell you some of my personal experiences instead of give you a seminar. It’ll be easier. So I’m at the far end of the aisle opposite the woman. She’s browsing, I’m browsing. When she turns in my direction, I shift the bulge, giving it emphasis, but I don’t look at her. I keep my eyes in the book. Now the first thing they do is quickly look away after they see the bulge. Then they pretend to be reading and look back over the top of the book. Most of them end up moving down the aisle to get closer to me. Of course I pretend not to know what’s going on. Once she is set up in position, she’ll resume the secret stare over the top of her book. You know this because she’s not really reading. She’s been on the same page too long, see. If she were really reading, she’da turned the page by now. So now I’m getting aroused and more erect… maybe I’ll squat down and browse the bottom shelf for a minute and think about fat, ugly women so I don’t pop a full boner. It’s all about control; you have to keep the member under control. I stand back up and shift again… but this time I do a little fondling. Now she knows I know she’s watching. Game on. Eros has arrived. She moves closer. Now I pause. This is to confirm whether or not she is into it. If she stays, that means yes, let’s do this. So I fondle it again, and bring the member into a diagonal position across my leg to demonstrate it’s length and girth. All this time neither of us have said a word or made eye contact.
Now I shit you not, on a few occasions the girl would walk away and come back with her friend, who would set up beside her with her own book and join in. I’ve actually seen a late adolescent girl wearing those tight teenager spandex pants develop a clearly visible wet spot between her legs. I’m not kidding man. This chick had to go to the bathroom it got so bad. Others would begin a series of provocative poses there in the aisle as if they were performing for me. This one hottie, she musta been seventeen or eighteen, stood up on her tiptoes and stuck her ass out, pretending to read the back of a book on the top shelf. This was bullshit because she was certainly tall enough to read the book without being on her tiptoes. She did that for me, dude, and I almost blew a load in my pants. That one was a close call. At that point we both knew what was going on; she was digging it and so was I… so I started stroking it through my sweat pants. I wish I woulda said something to her, but I didn’t. I’ve never said a word to any of them. I couldn’t… it was too weird. I wouldn’t know what to say.
What was happening here is a part of us deep down had come to the surface, but the superego was blocking it, keeping it in check. Two beautiful creatures momentarily free from the bonds of morality and society engaged in an erotic fantasy on aisle five. In a better world, we would have dropped right there on the floor and gone to work. But nooooo, we have to be proper, civilized, domestic, appropriate.
I still have the picture of that girl in my head. This was like eight years ago. She was so gorgeous man. She loved what she had done to me. A young girl coming to understand her sexual power. Every move she made was an invitation to judge her. When she bent down to the bottom shelf and arched her back, when she stretched that exaggerated stretch and pushed her chest out. Do you like it, Zoot? YES, young lady, you have no idea.
I’ll never see that girl again, BH, but we will always remember each other. She’ll tell her friends; omg this hot guy at the book store was totally checking me out, Stacey! I could see his dick through his pants! He was rubbing it…[ giggle ]!
Now you’ve indicated that your member is quite large, so you should have no problem with one of these operations. But you have to be careful not to pop a full boner. A dude with a big dick would pitch a ridiculous tent, and that’s not sexy… it’s comical. You’ll scare Eros away.
You know what I’ve noticed? Watching porn I’ve noticed that dudes with average or smaller dicks bust bigger nuts, while the big dicks barely bust anything. I wonder if this is an evolutionary feature. It would make sense that smaller dicks, being unable to get closer to the cervix, would need to ejaculate more in order to fertilize the female. I dunno though.
Now the size of your balls is important, but the parts of the testicle that produce sperm are only a small part of the anatomy of the testicle. Ergo, you don’t need big balls to bust a good nut. But you do need big balls to have high testosterone levels. Now I’d be willing to trade my balls (which are big) for your bigger dick, for two reasons; first, my testosterone levels have always gotten me in trouble, and second, wearing underwear is uncomfortable for me because my balls hang low, they swing to and fro, I can tie them in a ribbon, I can tie them in a bow.
First though I need to know if by big we mean the same thing. Mines about 6 and 7/8ths inches long erect, maybe 4 and 1/4 inches in circumference. That might be off because I don’t have my tape measure on me… it’s in my tool bags. At any rate I would like at least a 7 and 1/2 inch long erection. I’ve tried to stretch the thing but it doesn’t work. I want one this long because I want to be able to hit that sweet spot without putting her legs over my shoulders. From behind I do alright… I’ll get the hand from her… when she reaches back and pushes against your hips in a gesture to say ‘whoa dude, not so deep’. But basically seeing all these big dicks in porn makes me feel inadequate. I’m not, mind you, but my exposure to porn has exaggerated my expectations- everything HAS TO BE BIGGER- bigger trucks, bigger cheeseburgers, bigger TVs, bigger breasts, bigger houses, bigger incomes, bigger everything. You know what I mean? I’ve been subliminally brainwashed by the media and all its mediums. One has a psychic ontological desire to increase one’s Parmenidean being, to exist MORE, to occupy more space, to bring into existence ever increasing atomic complexes of greater size, to master the material world of things. A big johnson is the most primordial expression of the masculine force to do this. The second is architecture. To build objects that endure and resist the Heraclitean flux. Like the architectural erections I build, I want also for my penis to resist the Heraclitean flux with its erection. A tower of power that rises up toward the heavens, that overcums the spirit of gravity, that demands; SEE ME, FOR I’LL SHALL EXIST!
And while a peripatetic wanderer will always count the journey itself as his only destination, he does often need to know where the fuck he’s going to get to the job on time. And so a peripatetic wanderer might purchase the Magellan RoadMate 5320-LM GPS Navigator:
Verily, I shall never be lost again.
(It’s got everything I need… except for the sexy British woman voice)