Learning About Love - The Hard Way - Part 4

Please make sure to read parts one, two and three before you get sucked into this

My teenage boy brain insisted that she was the one. She had never had sex, never drank, never done drugs, never snuck out of her house, never ditched school….and I was the one to show her how it is all done.

Our relationship was good…while it lasted. I taught her that blow jobs on demand were “what people in love do.” I taught her that slinking up to the college guy outside of the liquor store and putting on a cute smile so he’d buy us beer was the greatest gift a girl could give her man. I taught HER that sneaking out of her house late at night, and walking the ¾ miles to my house, to have sex with me in the woods was best, cuz I would have more energy for her. I taught her that …well…I won’t get into the real heavy stuff. I think you all get my drift.

Anyway, I can honestly (and now shamefully) say that I thoroughly corrupted her. Only a few months into our relationship she; smoked cigarettes, drank on a regular basis, smoked pot here and there, coned beer out of unsuspecting college students, ditched school, snuck out of her house at night and put my sexual gratification above anything else.

It was not long after my step father walked in on …her kneeling before me in my mother’s home office, that I broke up with her. Honestly, I think I did it because I was starting to get more attention from a lot of other girls (she had a tendency to discus our sex life with all of the other girls at school). To top everything off…as payback for me breaking up with her, she asked my younger brother out (and he said yes) and proceeded to have sex with him for about 2 weeks before that faded away.

Now…if you have read all of the parts of this series, you’ll understand that I had finally learned a thing or two.

I moved to NYC shortly afterwards and proceeded to spend the next 5 years just being a single (dog) guy in his mid to late teens. I had no serious relationships…but did have a lot of fun. I guess that is why they say that you have to ‘live a little’ before you settle down.

The End…for now.

Learning About Love - The Hard Way, Part 3

Make sure to read Parts One and Two before you read this one

Summer between 9th and 10th grade, I returned home and was going to go back to public school. I lived in a very small town where everyone knew everyone…until a new family moved into our development. The neighborhood guys and I decided that it would be a good Idea for up to stickball games, bikes and skateboards to the street in front of their house…you know, we had to check them out.

As it turned out, the family was a mother, and a girl about our age and a younger son. No more than an hour into our street shenanigans, we saw the screen door on the front of the house open and the mom saying something to the girl as she pushed her out the door towards us. (old school social enabling)

The girl stopped in her front yard, sat down and just watched us. Most of us began showing off and trying outlandish jumps and tricks on our bikes. After she watched us acting like fools for a while, two of my friends and I walked up to her and introduced ourselves. We found out that she was our age and would be starting in our school in September. They had moved here from another state after her parents got divorced.

The girl was a bit homely and did not really have anything special about her looks. Just kind of plain. After inviting her to hang with us, we began just treating her like one of the guys. Not to mention that she was pretty good on a skateboard.

As the summer wore on and we all hung out together, I made it a point to look out for her…I knew better than to burn ‘girl’ bridges. It was not long before I felt as though she kind of liked me. I was unsure about how I felt about that. I mean, it is nice to be liked but I did not know if she were my type. (as a girlfriend) She was not ‘sexy’, hung out with the guys, had previously confided that she’d never even kissed a boy and was all around kind of a goody two shoes. I on the other hand had started drinking, smoked cigarettes here and there, dabbled in smoking pot, went out at night to cause trouble with the boys and expected sex from a girlfriend.

…beginning of dilemma.

I did not know at that time how much she really knew about me or if she’d like what she saw …but a part of me liked the idea of ‘molding’ her to my liking. I could teach her the rope and then she’d be perfect for me.

My friends did not understand what I was doing when I asked her out, but soon after…they did. (I hate to say this now, but she was like a puppy going through training.)

...More to come.

What the heck is a LAG?

I am not only amazed at the speed in which pre-teens can speak, but my ability to think I understand what they are saying…and being way off base.

Driving down the street with our fast talking 12 year old when we cam to a stop light. As we were waiting, a young woman began crossing the crosswalk with her dog. All of the sudden, Megan spits out, “Dang…She has a GREAT lag!” I quickly look at the woman. I looked right at her ass, thinking that a lag was her rear. Then I realized who was in the back seat and concentrated on the woman’s walk…thinking a lag might be a kind of strut…like the old school ‘pimp walk.’

Not seeing anything special…(though I did take another sneak peak at her ass) I turned to look over my shoulder and asked, “What the heck is a lag?”

Megan laughed and faster than I could tune my ears, recited, “ I didn’t say lag…I said lag! L as in Larry, A as in Army, B as in Boob!”

I, trying to control my laughter turned and (tried to) sternly say, “Megan…B as in Boob? What about Bob…or Beach?”

After the clarification…I did realize that the woman was walking an very cute Black Lab.

Damn….I nee to keep up.

the good old days

Scary but good…how far we’ve come since “the good old days.”

Back then they were the good old days, now…as an adult looking back…how the fuck am I not completely fucked up and locked away somewhere?

My parents got divorce when I was in first grade and we (the kids) spent the school year with our mom and the summers with our father. I remember loving the summer. When asked what my fondest and happiest childhood memory is…it is from one of those summers. NOW, my emotions are very conflicted. Within the same summer…I had my fondest as well as my most devastating childhood experiences.

We were living at the house overlooking the ocean in Maine. I look back and can see how I would have loved it as a kid…but now, as an adult…who the fuck were these people?

It was my step-grandmother’s house and my sister and I lived there with my father, step-mother, her brother and sister and their mother. WTF right there.

I would go out to my uncle’s (the detached guest house) and hang with him for a few hours. Not only would he let me rummage through his endless stacks of Playboys, but he also taught me how to smoke marijuana. I thought I was the coolest kid on the block. Porn, weed, hanging with a guy 15 years older than me…Life was good.

Now looking back on that…a 12 year old boy sitting around smoking pot and looking at porno mags with a 30 year old guy…not so good. Kind of creepy and …shit just not right.

Also that infamous summer…I, on more than one occasion, proceeded to go into my aunt’s (my step-mother’s sister) room when she was in the bath tub. This family was very open, free-loving and…not shy.

She told me that it was ok to come in, which I did. She started by asking what I wanted her for. I was at a loss – especially after watching her soapy boobs bobbing around in the water. I tried to act like I was unaffected but I think that my inability to avert my eyes from the first set of real boobs. My aunt humorously assured me that naked bodies are normal, natural and nothing to be ashamed of and it was ok to look. I have to say that although I felt a bit weird…I took her up on the offer – I was a 12 year old boy you know.

After the second ‘bath conversation’ (yes…there were …a few) I was becoming more comfortable just sitting and talking to her and less and less just staring at her boobs. At one point during one of our chats, she asked me to rub soap on her back. I obliged, without even thinking about it. It was not until my increasingly confused mind started wondering what would happen if I touched the sides of her boos while I was rubbing soap on her back….what the fuck is wrong with me? That is my aunt! Wait a minute…What the fuck is wrong with her?!

Anyway…I think you get the gist of what I am saying and how a 12 year old boy could have seen these times as the times of his life. But, at the same time…How fucked was all of that? If anything like that happened these days…everyone would be locked up and under psychiatric care.

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!!!

Who's In My Tent??????

So…just to tell you all up front, this post is solely out of …nothing else to write…and I think that it is kind of an interesting topic.

Now I will not, formally, say that it has been a topic of discussion or that we’ve done it…or that we’ve even fantasized about it, but I will say that my topic today is something that I think a lot of people talk about, think about and now…there is even a really good TV show (kind of) about it.

This post is going to be about threesomes. Can you safely have them? Will they destroy a relationship? Do one or both partners in the relationship always get jealous? These are my questions.

I will not speak of my past…young TentCamper was a bit of a player and …well…we’ll just keep it at that and go from where my head is and has been recently.

The thought of having a threesome is kind of hot. (Not admitting to waking up…hard as a pillar at Stonehenge at the though) I’d like to think that having threesomes would be a great way to add spice or something different to the mix in the bedroom, but then…what if it ruins a perfectly good relationship? I love Insane Mama and would not want to do anything to ruin that. Now I know that she finds certain women hot…not saying that she follows them around or tries to bed them down…but …we talk. That makes me think that this option is one that could be open to us.

The thought of her fooling around with another hottie in our bed…then both of them turning their attention to me (hold on…typing with one hand is getting ‘hard.’) Anyway…I know that it would not be far fetched for us to give it a shot…but do we even want to go there? What if she wanted me and another guy?

I will speak about me here.
1. I feel that I would have some serious ‘issues’ with another naked man in my bed (see I Am Homophobic)
2. I feel that I would get jealous of another man with her
3. Seeing her with another woman would be…how do you guys say it? HHHHAAAAWWWWTTT (or something like that)
4. Having two women using and abusing me would be nothing that I’d complain about.
BUT
5. I would not want to do anything to make IM jealous or feel hurt.
6. I do want to try new things and have fun…but don’t know if rocking the boat would be a good idea.

We’ve sat and watched Swingers and commented talked about how fun it could be…what a great, open relationship the main swinging couple has and so on. We’ve bee out at bars and, while sitting at the bar or a table…pointed out hot girls and guys to one another.

We do have a very good relationship and , I think, can talk about anything with each other. We have a great sex life (ups and downs…but mostly ups.) We have fun together and enjoy all of the time that we spend together.

“If it ain’t broke…don’t fix it” comes to mind…but so does “Life is not worth living, unless you LIVE it.”

My Sister Is A Ninja

I going to take you all back to Durham , NH…the year is 1976. I live with my mother, stepfather, 3 sisters, 2 brothers and our Golden Retriever Cinnamon. As you can imagine…the house was ‘hectic.’ Between us siblings…someone was always fighting. For the most part it was pretty amusing. I’m second oldest, I have an older sister, so I caused, instigated or was the bully in many of the fights. Some fights were physical, some emotional but they were ALL quite the show.

I have a memory of my youngest brother so mad at me(just for making fun of him) he swooped up the iron fire poker and chased me all over the house…until I was able to maneuver into my parent’s room (the only room in the house with a door that locks.) That made no difference because about 5 seconds later, after I hear some banging…I see the tip of the fire poker as it is smashing through the door. I had to jump from the second story to avoid that encounter.

On another sunny New Hampshire day…my middle brother and sister were going at it. I don’t even remember what it was all about…but what I do remember is that IT went on ALL day. At dinner that night, while our mom was still in the kitchen about to bring out our food, the two of them started up again. My brother was sitting at one end of our long table and my sister on the opposite side, in hopes that the arguing would cease. My brother kept egging her on and jabbing at her…That is until…out of nowhere, she picked up her fork and threw it (ninja style) across the table…the fucking thing hit my brother square between the eyes…and actually stuck there for 4 or 5 seconds…til we heard it clanking to the floor. ALL of us (mother included) just sat there, stunned, jaws on the floor…and wide-eyed.
After that night…we all thought twice about pushing middle sister too far. That was a scary little 8 year old.

Blast From The Past

I just got back from a day out with the kids and decided to check my email. Among the spam and other miscellaneous emails, I had one from someone that I did not know. I almost deleted it but decided to see what it said. When I opened it, all it said was the name of my high school and the town I grew up in with a question mark.

My mind raced…who was this? I did not recognize the first name. I went to a very small school…I can usually place people…this time I could not. I replied to the email just saying, “Yes. Who is this?” About 15 minutes later I had another email from her. As it turns out that while I was in High School, we “spent some time together” one weekend. Now, am I an ass hole for this not connecting for me? I still had no idea who she was. She remembered me and her name or what she said that we did had no effect on my geriatric memory. Instantly I began to freak out…even before finishing the email. Please don’t …please don’t say something about a child. I quickly zoomed my eyes over her email for certain key words……SHIT! "Kid" is there…I thought I was going to throw up all over the keyboard. I tentatively scanned back to the beginning of that sentence and read it in full. Phew!!!!! It read, “I am not writing about a 20 year old kid.”

What a relief. I did have a few high school years when I thought that I was some sort of mini playboy in training. Still…nothing with regards to who this girl is. The other people she mentioned in her email …I remembered them…just nothing on her. Was it “selective memory deletion?”

Then I replied to her email with the first thing that came to mind…”I am sorry, but I don’t remember you.” Now I don’t know if that is something that I should have just kept to myself or not…..but shit, this was actually 25 years ago. When I told Insane Mama about the email and my response, she responded in a way that made me think that my reply …could have been phrased differently. OOOOPS!

Anyway, I asked her a bit more and about what she is doing and where she lives these days and found that she is still on the east coast, is a few years younger than me and is married with a 7 year old son.

It is always good to hear from people from the past…especially when they are not contacting you about something … unexpected… but I suppose it would have been a bit more nice if I actually knew who the heck she was.