The Mind, Body and Shit

Well - I think that the majority of you know how I sometimes throw out some major randomness and how speaking my mind is not something that I am worried about doing….so here goes another edition of TentCamper’s Random Thoughts.

I know that it is something that everyone has thought about and even most likely had in depth discussions about….Yawning.

How is yawning so contagious? Why isn’t sneezing, coughing or clearing your throat? It is only yawning. Why does the brain only fuck with us on the yawning thing? I mean, you can see someone across a room yawning and …there you go a big yawn and you are not even tired. It could be someone talking about yawning or yawning right next to you. Even someone writing about yawning can make our dumb-ass brains think that we need to yawn.

What is the point of a yawn anyway? Is there any medical or biological purpose for yawns…or was this our creator’s way of fucking with us?

(How many times did YOU yawn while reading that?)

What about sneezing? Why can’t we sneeze with our eyes open? In follow up…I kind of think that those folks out there with severe allergies, who sneeze a lot….maybe should not be allowed to drive during allergy season.

Lastly, why are women's boobs considered 'privates' and men's are not? I think that my nipples are bust as sensitive as a woman's. If the reasoning is that they are considered a sexual organ....what about mouths? Should we cover those too? Shit...even hands can be quite the sexual organ. I say that we all pe-TIT-ion to have the requirement for women to wear shirt lifted. Men and women....equal! (Fine....some women should remain clothed...but the same goes for men... I guess I think that it should be a person's personal choice.) Let's get this done people!

Why has nobody developed an in the bowl vent for toilets? (I claim this as my idea so back the F up!)

Many (if not most) bathrooms are equipped with exhaust fans in the ceiling. This is indeed a helpful product. BUT what it essentially does is take the looming odor, which is directly under you, and pull it straight up your body, across your face and then up to the vent. Why not have a vent built-in (or even an ‘aftermarket’ product) that would take the emissions from one’s stink pickle and whisk it away…BEFORE one has to hold their breath as the vapors cross the facial area?!

My New Catch 22

So, as you all know I went to the doctor about a week and a half ago and after getting the blood tests back, my doctor told me that to lower my skyrocketing cholesterol and blood pressure I would HAVE to quit smoking, change my diet and exercise regularly.

Now, if any of you know what the diet for high cholesterol is, you’ll know what hell I am going through. I am not a junk food junkie, but not being able to eat 98% of things found in a normal grocery store is…my new HELL.

On top of that, I am a week into weaning down my smoking and am at less than half of what I smoked up until now. If you have quit or know someone who has…you’ll know that the first thing you want to do is EAT! Problem number 1….I can’t fucking eat! Salads and nuts just don’t cut the ‘quit smoking cravings.’ In addition to the food aspect, my loving doc prescribed Wellbutrin (an anti anxiety drug) to help along the weaning process. The thought is good, but after reading the below ‘known’ side effects….What The Fuck?

Wellbutrin

All medicines may cause side effects, but many people have no, or minor, side effects. Check with your doctor if any of these most COMMON side effects persist or become bothersome when using Wellbutrin:

Constipation (everyone knows that a cup of coffee and a cigarette are like bowel draino); dizziness; drowsiness; dry mouth; headache (the smoker’s cure for any pain or ailment….smoking); increased sweating; loss of appetite(when I am not able to eat anything…I am going to get sick from mal nutrition); nausea; nervousness (again…smoking calms the system); restlessness (for this and the last one….mind you, this is an anti anxiety drug!); taste changes; trouble sleeping(can’t sleep….have a smoke…or eat…WTF?); vomiting (who doesn’t have a smoke after a good puke?); weight changes.

(I will not even get into the following SEVERE side effects.)

Seek medical attention right away if any of these SEVERE side effects occur when using Wellbutrin:

Severe allergic reactions (rash; hives; itching; difficulty breathing; tightness in the chest; swelling of the mouth, face, lips, or tongue); chest pain; confusion; dark urine; delusions; fainting; fast or irregular heartbeat; fever, chills, or sore throat; hallucinations; hearing problems; menstrual changes; new or worsening mental or mood changes (eg, concentration problems, panic attacks, aggressiveness, agitation, anxiety, impulsiveness, irritability, hostility, exaggerated feeling of well-being, inability to sit still); red, swollen, blistered, or peeling skin; seizures; severe headache or dizziness; severe or persistent joint or muscle pain; severe or persistent nausea, vomiting, or stomach pain; severe or persistent nervousness, restlessness, or trouble sleeping; shortness of breath; suicidal thoughts or attempts; tremor; unusual swelling; vision changes; worsening depression; yellowing of the skin or eyes.

So….here I am, smoking less, wanting to eat, not being able to eat, suffering from side effects that make me want to smoke, but can’t smoke more, needing to exercise more, but lacking the nutritional energy to do so….basically making myself nuts.

Lastly…I may be wrong, or it may just be a smoker’s mind trick, but haven’t I heard somewhere that the worst time to quit smoking is when you are under a lot of stress? (i.e. out of work, struggling financially, going through divorce, etc….all of which apply to me at the moment! And my doctor knows this.)

Is my doctor a quack? Or is this my withdrawals from nicotine and fatty foods?

Corn and the Mysteries of the World

WARNING! This post might be a bit on the crude side, but it is an honest, random thought that has drifted through my mind a time or two.

*AND I am trying to weed out my sissy-ass, prude and generally boring readers. (PLEASE leave an honest comment...It will help me in the weeding department.)

What is the nutritional value of corn? How much of it is taken in by the body?

I ask because I know that when I have a healthy serving of corn with a meal…pretty much the same amount comes out in my …movements.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not bashing corn…I love corn and will eat it as long as I have teeth.

I am just curious as to its nutritional value and how much of the corn the body ingests.

I know that with one kernel of corn, inside the ‘skin’ is a mushy center…is that all that is consumed by the body? I also know that the outer skin is what is…’left behind.’ What the hell kind of alien food is eaten but the body refuses to or cannot break it down?

Feel free to check out the evidence here if you dare.

If you have crazy Yoda-like corn knowledge and can enlighten the rest of the world…Please do. I’d put this mystery up there with Bigfoot, Amelia Earhart and the Loch Ness Sea Monster.

MILF = Hot Boobs or Great Ass?

As with all living things…we as humans have types. By type I mean that thing we say when describing qualities that attract us to one another. Let me rephrase that…”I am an ass man.” I say that because saying “I am a lips man” or “I am an eyes man” sounds kind of …un manly. Those are, in fact, the three physical attributes in a woman that can make me come to attention…so to speak.

*To Mariah: You have incredible eyes and lips and if I go more than a few hours without inappropriately staring at your ass…or giving it a good slap…I get the shakes and go into withdrawals.

OK…back to my pre-disclaimer thought. I think that I’d say I like butts and lips evenly and eyes come in a close second. If you have all three (like my baby) consider yourself special. Don’t get me wrong ladies, I know that what is on the inside is more important and looks only get you so far…yada yada. I am NOT talking about love…nor even wanting to strike up a conversation with anyone. Just that thing that catches your eye at first glimpse. You ladies have it too…buff chest, six pack abs…a large bulge in the pants, etc. You know…that thing that lets us know that we are still alive.

I am not sure, nation-wide…or world wide where I’d fit in the percentages…Are there more ass men than boob men? Speaking of boob men…they are kind of funny. The boob men that I know are like scavengers, in my book. It seems that they look at every set that walks by. Big, small, real, fake, firm and perky, droopy and low…all of them. Maybe some guys become boob men because it is the easiest part of a woman’s body to see. To get a good read on an ass takes the right angle, the right outfit…and even then you sometimes never know.

**another disclaimer – after checking out Google Analytics, it seems that the terms Boobs, Hot boobs and MILF tend to send a lot of traffic my way.

Anyway, with asses it is different, at least for me. I don’t like NOR LOOK AT; XL, inverted, slanty, extra wide, too high or too low butts. I like a butt with some meat…making it a nice ‘round mound of fun’ I’d post a picture of Mariah’s sexy ass for you to all check out but Webster’s has a copyright of the image for their new dictionary.

See what kind of nonsense looking at Analytics can make people write?

big ass needles and cutting tools

I think that I hide it pretty well, but I have to say that I’ve been living with quite a debilitating fear…poking around in my head lately.

I have recently been granted more time with my 2 boys and I feel that Mariah’s kids all love me and see me as a reliable and permanent fixture in their lives. Those two things make me the happiest man on Earth.

The scary part is that I have been feeling run down. Back problems, eyes get a bit discolored, ears clog daily along with recent throat problems, always fatigued, my ‘waste management’ department does not seem to be running smoothly (although…that could just be in my head.)

I have been to the doctor and had physicals and stuff, but I don’t over-dramatize all of these symptoms to the doctor. I don’t want to be a complainer or whiner. I suck it up and power on. It is just that these days I can’t help but to feel like something serious is going on every time I start to feel something ‘off.’

My throat has been killing me for 2 days now and it does not seem like a normal sore throat…instantly I start thinking…’it is throat cancer and I am FUCKED!’ Then I have a day when my bowel movements just don’t seem right…and I pee every 5 minutes…followed by feeling like I need to pee and just can’t...and I smoke and drink.

It is driving me crazy…but I do not say anything…I know Mariah is going to kick my ass and march me into a doctor after she reads this. I don’t want her to worry or freak out, and I genuinely fear going to a doctor with everything and having him say that I am FUCKED!

On the other hand…I am 41, I run around and play, wrestle and horse around with the kids all day. I (think) look much younger than I am. I am strong and have never had any medical problems. All of this shit could just be a figment of my imagination.

I need to be here for Mariah and all of our kids, but doctors and their frequent misdiagnosis, over medicating, treating things that are really not ‘things’ and …big ass needles and cutting tools.

I have never had surgery, never actually spent a night in a hospital…and I hate to admit, as a man, that Hospitals and all that cutting shit, scares the crap out of me. I can’t fathom the idea of me having to go in for some surgery or something. I could see myself skipping the country and living out my days on a beach in Costa Rica before checking into a hospital.

Maybe I just need to stop watching House and get some medical marajuana or something...and just chill!
Mariah…take it easy on me and …really….I’m ok.

What Is A Dad To Do?

Is it just me or does the way that people dress really get under your skin too? I was going to write this post as after seeing some freakingly jacked up outfits…on grown women today.

I don’t understand it. Do people not own mirrors? Are they so stupid that they honestly think that wearing shit that makes people stare…is going to make them some sort of trend setter or fashion guru? I guess part of it is where I live, but I can honestly tell you that I feel the vomit lurching its way up into the back of my mouth just from driving down the street.

My subject today will be the fashion of today’s teenager. FUCK, SHIT, ASS, PUKE…fuck…I just peed on myself.

First of all, when it comes to boys, I can’t stand sagging! It is the stupidest thing that I’ve ever seen. And what the fuck is with boys wearing skinny jeans? Are they trying to look like girls? Do they want to carry a purse?....cuz there is no freaking way they can get shit into any of the pockets of those ridiculous creations….even if they got some change in the pocket…they’d have to strip down to pull anything out.

Now…Girls…WTF? Are girls everywhere dressing like they do here?
Ugg boots
Short shorts (so short that if they don’t continually pull at the leg holes…their privates start finding their freedom.)
Tight, open top shirts that show their belly piercings while molding around their developing breasts.

Now in these outfits; they cannot jump, run, squat, climb stairs or sit down…without all of their ‘junk’ waving to the world…in all of its teenybopper glory.
Not to mention the fucking glitter!!!! Damn…I just puked on my desk.

I would not mind if it were just a few random sluts…whatever…but it is EVERYFUCKINGONE! Girls with serious boyfriends, the jocks, the loners, even the freakin preacher’s daughters.

Then…they walk down the street, prancing like flock (?) of fucking gazelle…and get pissed when all of the teen boys stare and gesture for their attention.

Yes…It gets worse. I, as a (Hot Dad) father of a teenage girl, have to walk like the new guy in prison…or a white boy with a fancy car in the middle of South Central. I see the way that people look at her, old men, young boys, even the disapproving looks from women. At any minute I feel that I might have to throw down with random strangers.

I HATE the way she/they dress and I know her…not a slut, has a serious boyfriend, responsible, good student, respectful and respected…but this new found fashion for these girls makes me ill. Why do it? There is no need for it. I have throw away clothing that I could no longer stomach…but it was soon replaced by something worse.

And they get it from impecable role models...like ...

Barring hiring a security guard to walk with her at all times…or forcing her to wear overalls everyday…what is a dad to do?

HELP ME!!!!!!!

TentCampress And His Moon

I may have to see some sort of doctor…or scientists or something. Why you ask? Well, as most of you know, I live with Insane Mama and her 3 daughters and her son. The women in the house are 9, 11, 16 and, well, Insane Mama is in her 30’s.

I know that when women/girls who live together often start to ‘synchronize’ with their periods (or ‘moons’ as we call it here in the house of insanity.)

Now the reason that I may be in need of some sort of specialist is because I think that I may be….’synchronizing’. Right around the time that Insane Mama and 16 year old Amanda are entering into their spell of Pre Moon Syndrome (PMS), I start to crave ALL food, I get cranky, short tempered, I get cramps (from gas) and nothing that goes on in my life (for that week span) is ever right…or good enough.

I am scared! I say that cuz…what is next? I fear that I’ll wake up one morning lying in a pool of my own blood. Where will I bleed from? Shit that scares me!

With all of the others in the house…my irritability is irrational. It makes no sense. There is no logical reason for my MOODS and I have no way of explaining what is happening. I try to equate it with men’s sympathy pains during pregnancies…but that does not fly around here. When the two eldest females of the house are…irrational…I am the one who is supposed to be there to hold down the fort.

Now I don’t want any of you to feel bold enough to say something like, “maybe you are part woman and you actually GET PMS.” Or, “that maybe I am turning into a woman. That shit don’t fly on my blog!

Anyway…I don’t know if I need a doctor, a scientist/researcher or a freaking shrink.

PLEASE HELP ME!!!

Remote Fun - Continued

We hung out there for a little bit…then we started talking to some of the people playing darts. It was obvious to us that they had seen how we were groping one another by the way they were inconspicuously watching every one of our hand movements. We …kind of liked that. We continued our playfulness…not trying to hide any of it. It seemed to be turning the other couple on a bit and …we liked having that effect on them. The few times that I ‘buzzed’ her while talking with the other couple. I saw Mariah move her hand to her nether region while letting out a slight moan. I knew that the other woman had put two and two together and offered up a slight smile and approving nod to Mariah.

After another drink, Mariah and I moved back over to the bar area and squeezed onto two empty bar stools. This gave me the ‘access’ that I had been wanting. She sat facing me…with her legs slightly spread. I watched as they opened and closed every time I hit my little secret button. We sat, making small talk while I worked one of my hands up her thigh…to her incredibly wet panties. Her thighs clenched around my hand…keeping it in place. Rubbing her in small circles, I felt her rocking back and forth on her stool…pushing herself into my roaming fingers. My hand felt as if I’d been soaking it in hot, sweet massage oil. I slowly pulled my hand back, careful to keep all of her sweetness on my fingers. I began raising my hand, to my mouth when she quickly grabbed me by the wrist and pulled my soaking fingers to her lips. Not caring who was watching, she began licking and sucking on each of my wet fingers. I was rock hard. I raised my glass, indicated a toast and downed the rest of my beer…she followed in suit. I jumped up from my stool, realizing that both my pants had an obvious bulge in them and she had left an unmistakable wet spot on the stool that she had just jumped off. I led her by the hand to the front door of the bar. Once outside, I pulled her around the corner into the alley. It only took a second for my trained eyes to find a slightly dark spot for us to slide into. ‘Our spot’ was not completely out of sight…but enough for us. Being seen…was a bit exciting.


TO BE CONTINUED…….

you fat, lazy, beer drinking, TV watching old man

I have always been a sports fan…not fanatic, but a fan none the less. I played a lot of sports as a kid, but since high school it has mostly just been recreational skiing, swimming and stuff like that. I, as an adult, never got into any organized sport or workout/exercise routine I love watching sports; football, soccer, hockey, boxing and in the late 80s, got into watching kickboxing.

When I moved to LA from Boston, in 1994, I had not done any kind of sport or regular workout for close to a decade (what a lame ass I am.) Then, through my work, I met a woman who was the publicist for a kickboxing trainer. She asked me if I’d like her to set me up with him…to work out and train at his gym. When I asked her what his name was she said that I most likely did not now him but his name was Benny Urquidez. I was floored! Of course I knew who he was…only the greatest kickboxer in the world! Benny “The Jet” Urquidez!!! I had idolized him since I started following the sport and was mad that he had retired a handful of years earlier. I quickly said that I’d love to train with him…”Where do I sign?”

Once she brought me out to meet Benny I knew that I would be his newest, subservient little ball of clay…to mold into a super warrior…like himself. On my first day at the gym…after peeing and pooing all over myself …out of pure fear…Benny explaind a bit about his history, the gym and its rules and what he teaches. I kind of just sat there in awe. I mean this guy is a legend. He started competing in amature kickboxing competitions at 5 years old, competed around the world, held championship belts in 4 weight divisions for more than 25 years and then, after retiring, came out of retirement at the age of 42 to fight the 25 year old Japanese world title holder…and won. Benny had NEVER lost a professional fight in his life.

I, an out of shape guy in my late 20’s, was scared. I told Benny that I wanted to train as a workout…to keep in shape …and know how to kick some ass! He corrected me and said…”workout …yes, kick ass…no…but I WILL teach you how to ‘defend’ yourself.” And that is where it started. I was at the gym 3 days a week (from freakin 6:30AM to 9 AM) It went slow at first…and they were some of the hardest workouts that I could ever imagine. He would get me to that point…where the puke is right around the corner and then he’d say, “NOW we can start training.” He explained that if our bodies were tired…we would not over-think the technique…he’s knows best.

It was not long before I started noticing that I was, indeed, getting into shape and was beginning to ‘float’ around the gym…hitting the bags right…and hard while whipping through the stretching and cardio parts of the workouts. That is when he sat me down and said that he was going to include me in his Saturday morning “Breakfast Bunch.” I was quick to ask for an explanation. He said that it was just a bunch of guys that he trains…who get together on Saturday mornings to spar. SPAR….are you fucking kidding me? I about vomited all over him. But…how could I say no?

So when we all met at the gym on Saturday morning I asked Benny if he really thought that I was ready for this or not. His response to me was, “Well, we’ll see. I have to see how you react …under pressure.” What the fuck? He wants to see me get my ass kicked. Talk about the butterflies…kicking the shit out of my stomach. Then after the butterflies get done with me…this group of guys that have been training with him for years...get to have their way with me. It ended up being ok. I found my confidence and held my own…from that point on…I loved Saturday mornings.

For the next several year I worked out with him and had the pleasure of becoming very close with his family. At the gym I worked out with many other fighters (amateur and professional) as well as celebrities. As Benny is a fight choreographer and fight instructor for the movie industry, there were many days that the gym seemed to be more of a celeb-fest than a kickboxing gym. From rock stars to movie actors…they all praised and adored “Sensei.” The best day was when he told me to meet him at another location and that I’d be working out with someone else. He did not say who…just gave the address as to where to meet him. When I got there, Benny showed me in and I almost shit myself…right on the floor of…John Cusack’s private gym. Benny made the introductions …and then “Johnny” proceeded to kick my ass. I did not realize that he was 6’4” and weighed about 220 lbs. He is a big guy. Anyway…that was quite the experience.

Close to the end of my marriage…in 2003…there was so much going on that I had to stop going to the gym. I was quite sad. I was in the best shape of my life, had more self confidence than I’ve ever had …and knew that I could indeed kick some ass.

I miss Benny. I miss my workouts. I miss my fucking, rock hard abs and sub 10% body fat.

DAMN!!!!!!!! Exceeding 40 and not working out can really fuck with a guy!

Fuck you, you fat, lazy, beer drinking, TV watching old man!!!!!

Mystery Photo

As an eager paticipant in Candid Carrie's Friday Foto Finish Fiesta - Here is my submission.

I knew that I wanted to post a picture of a part of my, “GOD-LIKE” body and did not know what part I should photograph. I thought long and hard…and after perfecting my fancy camera work, I came up with this.

I am fairly certain that none of you will know what part of me this is...so I will give you a few hints:

It has nothing to do with "perky boobs"
It gets strained a lot
It makes noise when air rushes through it
I often rub it when I am cold
Sweat trickles down it when it is really hot out




But... it is not my butt.