In the shower yesterday I noticed random bruises on my thighs, hips, and knees. My whole body aches, and I can’t remember exactly when the bruises came, but I can remember sweat dripping down my skin, moans escaping from my mouth, and sighs coming and turning into deep exhales. I remember staring at her arms and I remember being wet.

I wish I could say that these memories were from a week of crazyfucking. I wish the bruises were from her hands gripping my body and pushing me down. But nope. Last week my girlfriend and I volunteered with Habitat for Humanity, building houses in New Orleans. Still satisfying, just in a different way. For the sake of this being a sex blog, I will not rant for pages about how necessary volunteers are right now, and I will only spend this one second shaming those who ride the “Katrina Tour” through the ninth ward, snapping pictures of broken houses from the inside of their air conditioned vans. (To see one response to the tourists, click here). I am tan, bruised, and upset that two years later there is still so much to do in New Orleans. But I am also optimistic. And thankful for Habitat and the other organizations that are doing all they can to help rebuild. And I am still salivating over the breakfast we had at Slim Goodies on our last day in Louisiana.

Next, completely unconnected:

Long hair makes for difficult pussy eating. I recently discovered this fact, and decided that the responsibility lies not on the long-hair muncher, but on the reclining munchee. The least one can do while enjoying an impromptu warm tongue bath is make sure the giver’s hair is pulled to the side.

I also discovered that turning yourself on while flying across the country is a really, really bad idea.

And that other family members across the country have started reading my blog. Hi guys.

Doing what I can to stay who I am (and wishing you all luck in doing the same),

.jameson.

Recently:

New Years’ Resolutions… Today!
Hair Today, gone tomorrow
of importance.