Sunday rants, stories, or whatever.

A daily collection of thoughts rants, rambles, short stories and moments of funny as I trundle and trudge through the mess and muck of my mind with one goal to write ten short stories a day. There will be nine short stories in this collection as I have already posted the first today. Basically all the titled notes below are rants that turn into stories. I did not seperate them as I wanted to show you- the lovely reader. How thoughts and ideas develop in my head, eg. from a rant about the weather into a story about a world of soup.  enjoy!

Title: writing is like jumping on hovering boxes, or whatever. 

600 words to say I am stuck seems like a loong way to get nowhere. what good is it that I am here and what good is it if I cannot move from here. It seems rather useless to just be and not have the will or power to make it something more than what it seems to be. I start out small or from a point that I can consider to be something worth while and from there I attempt to jump onto a higher point of thought something with a tale that I can grab onto, a sort of method in my madness.

But for now I am happy jumping on boxes, making my way up from one box to a higher box, leaping and making the climb, there is a long way to fall down now, and the sturdy boxes that seem to float in mid-air hold my body weight and the extra force it takes to jump and fall onto one. They are like a cardboard box, though made from copper or brass, but somehow a little softer than hard metal.

I would count to ten hold my breath and then make the leap to the next box. I would do this one after the other. I am not sure why I felt necessary to get this done, but whatever. Writing I have been told is like jumping on hovering boxes, or whatever. I look at how far I have come and it seems so inferiour. I take this time as I am sitting here to masturbate. This is my fantasy and I do what I will. Luckly I had a large bottle of lube in my back pocket, I pulled it out and covered my hand in the sticky mess. I fingered my arsehole. This was how I would start my “self-meditation”. And so it went, touching and prodding myself until I was to tired to care and just wanted to lay down and rest. reaching out with my non-lube-hand I grabbed a hovering box that was within reach and pulled it closer to me, on these two hovering boxes. I curlled up to rest. The warm air was like a blanket and the gental sway of the boxes in the brease rocked me to sleep.

I dreamt long and hard, of solid things, and soft things, I was climbing a great big hill and battling a dragon at some point, but really I was just farting in my sleep. When I awoke the sun was high in the sky and this could be why I felt so strange. could it be that I had grown, could it be that maths was my friend? I do not know where these questions come from or the answers that they would provide.

And so as the sun arose from an unknown point and blue filtered all around me I climbed higher for the purpose and goal of climbing, I had a process, a method to my madness and I was determined to make the climb. as I climbed higher the boxes changed shape from short skinny boxes to long flat boxes, and I found myself dragging small boxes with me, huddling them together to make a little nest in the sky.

I made a flat floor with a raised section for where I would rest. I built walls, and window holes, I made a roof, and after a long day as the sun began to dip away from an unknown point in the sky I hang my feet over the side of my nest and looked on, the world below, and my bottle of lube sitting next to me. I was the masturbatory climber in the sky. 

title: 2,000 reasons why to keep on blogging and why THE RULE-SETTER is bad for your town. 

A new chapter, I had come to this town to start a new chapter in my life and I was concerned that my past would somehow follow me, Like an unwashed cat, slinking about, meow, meow, meow hiss. On an unrealated not with regrards to blogging I remember reading artilcles online to work out how to run a blog, there were things about adding tags, having titles, and then there was also a side note I had forgotten about blog post over 2,000 words getting a better highraque? Idk how that is pronounced  but oh well. So that probably would explain why some of my older, longer blog post have stood the test of time. This post will be 600 words per short thought, times 10 short thoughts for the daily goal which would make it 6000 words? minuse the first thought I had already posted today would bring it down to 5,400 words…. that is a fair few words. and sounds like a busy day to me to write that much. But that gives me atleast 2,000 reasons why to keep on blogging today.

I started this day goal driven, when I make the rules then things go in the direction I want, when I set the goals things go in the direction I want. I can’t sit around for someone else to make up the rules, that would only put me at a disadvantage, who knows what rulse they would make or if they would change them. And like a raging thought that was born in my mind. The rule-setter was born.

Crying and windging the rule-setter was a small child, born with a piece of parchment and a quill. ready to take down notes, and jot down thoughts and ideas. The rule-setter had very few thoughts and ideas but all the same, food, poop, milk, hugs, cold, warm, was a start. these thoughts were scribbled down on the parchment, not as words but as lines that made sence to a baby that had not yet developed the ability to hold a quill, and had no understanding of the language in which it was born into. But with time and desire, the rule-setter began to write more ledgeable thoughts and ideas.

One idea that the rulesetter had was that all milk should be delivered to him before anyone else has any milk, until the rulesetter was full. This caused a lot of problems in the town as mothers and dairy milkmen, would come bounding down the street and up the driveway, demanding to deliver milk to the rulesetter. Women would remove there tops and force their swollen breast at the door, and milk men would attempt to push past the women holding their breast to get his milk closer to the door and closer to the child who wanted all the milk.

The child – rule-setter would crawl over to the front door hungry, and could hear shouting and yelling and the russle of shoving as people crowded around the front door of his home. The rule setter would open the front door and be covered in a delicious mix of milks, this would be the rule-setters daily ruiten. once full, he would utter a content ” thank-you townfolk, that is all enjoy your day” and with a wave shut the door behind himself. left there as the townfolk awake from their frantic daze they would embarised make their way back to their houses and lives and carry on like nothing had happened.

The rulesetter would become more problematic for the town as he grow up.

Title: Fell into a bowl of soup

I was cooking a hot pot of soup, as it steamed away on the stove I ladeled out a portion that I knew I would enjoy. The steam from the soup fogged up my glasses as I breathed in the yummy smells.

I sat down to enjoy my soup, with a spoon I slurped away and drank it down, when I was near finished I put my soup spoon down and with both hands on the bowl drank down the last of it.

I held it above my head to get the last drop, but then the bowl slipped from my hands and it fell onto me.

But instead of it hitting me on my head, I went into the bowl. I don’t even know how this was happening but it was like the bottom of the soup bowl entered me into a portal that took me to another world. A world of soup.

I crash-landed in the soup bowl land, swimming about, treading water. The warm soup and noodles, and peas floated around me, I could feel my whole body becoming more relaxed with the salt bath I was taking.

I had a few slurps of the soup as I stayed afloat. Looking around I did not see an edge to this vast soup ocean. so I started rounding up peas and noodles, tying the noodles in knots, poking holes in the peas and threading the noodles through them.  soon I had a pea and noodle raft.

I laid back on my pea and noodle raft, breathing heavily. Now I had time to think.

to be continued…..

title: but gone mad

In the realm of bizarre, I like to think of silly things, explore them and see how far I can take them.

What if my butt fell of? what. I don’t even Understand? Okay so lets say that “the butt” is detachable and is held onto the body with a strap. And one day that leather strap broke and the butt just fell of. Would I still be able to poop?

I would like to think that my but would go on functioning and producing poop as I went about my day. Maybe our lives will change, I have to move interstate to do my busy job.

But every now and then i’ll hit my butt up, we will go out for three coffees, head back to my butts house attach that leather strap, and have a good three coffee poop.

title: bear with me

Stuck, My foot trapped between a rock and a log, oh shit how did this happen,

I was running through the woods, a great bear at my heals, I know how he knew I was there, I am normally so quiet, but tonight I was careless and now I am running, well not running trapped with a bear chasing me.

I turn to hear the rumble of the beast as it pounces ontop of me, I feel the full weight of the bear pressing down on my bones, I hear a snap, oh shit was that a bone? my ribs, I look down to see that the log which had trapped my leg against the rock had been crushed, and my foot slid free, I poked the bear in the ribs and wiggled out.

This big beast, was thrashing about, but was unable to tell the difference between me and the log, as it attacked the log I made my escape, back into the village, I will never be so careless again.

Ttile: the rock-pool beneath my bed

The rockpool beneath my bed,

I let my food dangle, as my toes creat small ripples in the water,

fish swim about, some curiously, touch my toes before continuing on,

the deep blue, how deep I do not know,

once I rolled over in my sleep and fell into the cold, crisp water,

boy did I wake up that day, spashing about, pulling myself up, soaked,

dripping wet onto my white dry sheets that had just me washed and drried on the line that day,

the rockpool beneath my bed, what treasures you hold.

 

I hope you enjoyed a few of my rants and tales. But for now I will take a break have some breakfast and continue writing today!

The Rockpool beneath my bed

The rockpool beneath my bed,

I let my food dangle, as my toes creat small ripples in the water,

fish swim about, some curiously, touch my toes before continuing on,

the deep blue, how deep I do not know,

once I rolled over in my sleep and fell into the cold, crisp water,

boy did I wake up that day, spashing about, pulling myself up, soaked,

dripping wet onto my white dry sheets that had just me washed and drried on the line that day,

the rockpool beneath my bed, what treasures you hold.

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Can you be an individual in a pack?

In a room to loud,

I have been thinking about how I like to handle things,

living with other people, new people has throw of my internal balance,

where are my hours of pondering? where are my long walks?

I have had a moment to think of it all and have decided to make the most of my time,

I like long walks, I like doing solo activities, it not so much about sadness or anything like that,

I just need uninterrupted steam of consciousnesses to flow though me, to ground me to think it all though in my head, make the move when I am ready.

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Blood, water and pros

Words run through writers like water,

A chaotic mess, but with a few specs of gold,

words pump through me like blood in my veins,

But blood and water are no good if they run dry or remain stagnate,

When I am running short on words I like to got for a long walk,

fire up my internal engine, pump the blood again,

until I return with a flow of words ready to pour out onto the page.

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At night on my own

lubing up for a nice night in.

Who says you need someone else to have a good time.

All I need is a bottle of lube and my heated blanket.

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Update my Logo: Yey or Ney?

I created the bent on love logo when I was starting out as a graphic design student. I had been writing erotic stories for friends but had no place to share my love for erotic literature, from there I wrote poems and other stories that were in my head.

Looking back now on the past two years I am happy with how my blog has progressed. A personal journey.

I am contemplating updating my logo. I like the heart and the lace pantie  edging along the top. Though the bad colour pallet and chunkiness of the digital sketch is very obvious to me now.  In a way seeing this now, going back to where I started, I feel like I have come a long way since then.

I feel like my early designs had good bones, good ideas. But now with experience and hard work, my ideas have become more refined more professional. I still have a long way to go, I see that all the time.

I think it is time that I update my logo. 🙂

I love coffee, do you?

Here is a little drawing I did the other day. I think it is cute and shows my love for coffee. 🙂

Title: Blonde Sanders and the Paper people. ( draft/ Science fiction)

 

I was sitting the lunch room, eating a cheese sandwadge, not because I was hungry, I like cheese, I was just pasing the time. I had also been flolding origami animals. I made a swan, and several smaller swans I lined up behind the mother swan, I sat back and admired my creations. You need a hobby on these long scouting missions.

I was sent here on a scouting mission as my ship explored each planet one by one in this solar system.

You can’t understand a planet just by looking from above. I was given, a 7 water shots that will last the week, and 10 food shots so I don’t go hungry. Though I am happy to fast for a few days, hunger keeps me sharp and alert.

I packed them into my backpack. Along with the usuall emergency supplies: oxygem helmet, ray gun and first aid kit, and of course my intergalaxtic passport. I am always forgetting that.

I arrived on the planet in what seems to be mid morning. The locals we a little startled as I made such a racket coming down. But I made the intergalactic greating and began my tour of the planet.

I look around at all the quaint houses, neat in every way. The ground, the buildings, even the sky had a neat proper perfect look to it. It took me some time to put my finger on it why things looked so neat.  I placed my hand up against a building and absurved its texture, and thats when I got a paper cut. A yes, this world is made of paper, paper roads, paper buildings, paper clouds in a paper sky, and paper people walking on by.

I spoke to the locals and followed a crowd to a town meeting. There I spoke to the mayor and asked if someone could show me around. He got his assistant to show me around. A paper lady, with paper hair curls.

“Greetings I am Blonde Sanders” – I said out aloud. In an all too loud voice.

“ hehe, no need for such formalities, you sound like you are from a 1950’s space film. Carrie is the name. I am the assistant to the mayor at Paperville” –  Carrie said with a smile.

on an origami world I met an origami girl.

We had much to talk about my human world, and her paper thin world.

Her skirt hung of her paper thin waste, with just the right folds.

We went a park to watch ducks swim on a blue paper lake,

And although I cannot live here, and live on paper spaghetti with a red paper sauce, with paper cheese shavings. I am not meant for this angular world.

Title: A van in a drive way.

Walking back from the pub my arm around my date Alice, we headed to my house, well my van.

Alice“This is cool a great idea, tell me about your van?”

“I saved up and bought this van 6months ago. It had a lot of km on it, but I did want to drive it. The housing prices in Melbourne were insane and renting just sickened me, all my pay for what a bed? I was going to find a cheaper alternative and I found it in the form of an old motorhome. Its sleak curves and shape now outdated. It was really just a shell of a vehicle. I was going to live in it as a cheaper way to rent a house, so I was still paying utilities. “

Alice “Yeah?”

“The wheels gave the illustion that I could move at any time, but this unregistered bungalow on stilts was just my way of scoring cheap rent. I found a nice share house with a drive way. As much as I liked the outdoors, my roots lye in the inner city. And so I rented out the driveway. This took $50 a week of the rent so housemates where happy. And my van fed power back into the grid.”

Alice“Seems like you have got it all figured out!”

“Living in the inner city but disconnected from the many attached expenses. This was tricky but piece by piece I saved money but spending less. One thing I also did was disconnect myself from the internet… well mostly. This was hard as I had such an attachment to the internet. At the bottom of it all it is really just appreances. If this van looked like a dump I would not be able to park it here. One place I was living at I told them that I wanted to fix it up and them travel around the country in a year. I was fixing it up… and I was going to travel but they were not connected. this van is just a stationary home.”

Fucking on the roof, it is the middle of summer and we sat on the roof to watch the stars, after a few beers you asked for it from behind, your face pressed against the solar panel. The moon and stars watching on, I slide into you I can feel you. Your fingers stroking yourself as I fuck your 33 year old ass. The overhanging trees shade us from the street, this quiet street. As I thrust into you, your breath and lipstick fogging up the solar panel. Stars reflected in the black shine of the panels. You moan and cum, and I finish not long after your pulling at your hair. I roll of you, and we sit breath and hug. My arm around you your curled up into my chest, the titled solar panels acting like deck chairs. This is love.

Design Appreciation: The humble air mattress.

The humble air mattress.

The three images are the first air mattress, a vinatge air matress, the current air mattress and also a possible air matress of the future!

I take one of these every time I go camping,

It inflates with an attachment that plugs into the cigertte lighter of the car.

And packs down nicely into a small space in my car,

When I look at it, I feel thankful that I was born in the age of plastics,

as old materials may have been more rough and bluky, and expensive,

as the air matress is rather cheap.

I take a look on the internet at old designs,

I love the colours, and the boxes,

There we such great designs back in the day.

It was used in the house, as a pool toy and then eventually for camping.

” The first air mattress was invented in 1889 by the Pneumatic Mattress & Cushion Company in Reading, Massachusetts.” edition.cnn.com

Wow I did not think they went that far back, and made of rubber.

 

 

source:

http://edition.cnn.com/2011/LIVING/06/03/camping.equipment.history.mf/

http://content.time.com/time/specials/packages/article/0,28804,1939342_1939395_1939657,00.html