Fleshbot is becoming a daily site that I visit. Not necessarily because of it’s sex subject matter, but because some of the things they post regarding sex and porn are just absolute ridiculous. Case in point: Let Freedom Ring… Cheerleader Style! (NSFW)
To celebrate Independence Day, we wanted to showcase the most American porn clip we could find. And what’s more American than cheerleaders? Especially cheerleaders who like to suck, fuck, and turn detention into a wild orgy. That sure sounds like freedom to us.
Well, I was back in the emergency room last night. I haven’t been there in a very long time — for awhile, I was going just about once every six months between breaking legs, allergic reactions, frozen shoulders, etc. But that all came to an end last night when I decided to try a gelato. A few seconds later and I realized that it was a pistachio gelato. And for those reading that don’t know, I’m very allergic to tree nuts.
We were in the city, so we decided to take a cab to a hospital since I felt myself gradually becoming worse. It certainly wasn’t as severe as when I had my major allergic reaction when I was 20, but I still didn’t want to risk becoming worse. The emergency room quickly hooked me up to some fluids, gave me some benadryl, and capped everything off with a shot of adrenaline. Within minutes I was feeling back to normal, and after an hour or so, I was released.
I was pretty set on not taking my medical bracelet off until my shot at love was over, but that didn’t last too long once I got annoyed by it in the shower.
Working Stiff has posted the top ten of office sex videos. Certainly not safe for work. I particularly like one of the comments in the thread.
“My tape dispenser has never seemed more erotic.”
The New Jersey Nets and Milwaukee Bucks are just about to make a trade that’ll send Richard Jefferson to Milwaukee for Yi Jianlian and Bobby Simmons. Totally unfair trade in favor of Milwaukee — they’re getting a veteran guy coming off of his best season.
But look past that and you’ll see that this is a move to clear some salary for the Nets. Why? Lebron James. King James will be an unrestricted free agent after the 2010 season. By then, the Nets will (or should) be playing in Brooklyn.
Lebron already stated that he loves playing in Madison Square Garden. But throw in buddy, and Nets co-owner, Jay-Z and you could have Lebron playing a few miles from the Garden. Lebron will be playing in New York or New Jersey after the 2010 season; there’s no doubt about it.
I certainly understand why a team would want Lebron; he’s pratically the next coming of Michael Jordan. I’d like for him to stay in Cleveland, though. I love the idea of a franchise player — the Patrick Ewings, the Derek Jeters, the Cal Ripkens. There’s something special about franchise players. Lebron is certainly entitled to want more money and fame. Hell, he deserves it. But think about your legacy, too.
A New York company is working to launch a high-speed ferry line that would run between Brooklyn and Atlantic City.
The report said Unitel Marine Services plans to charge $58 for regular round-trip tickets and $85 for VIP seating aboard the 600-passenger ferry.
I would imagine it would be cheaper to fill the car up with a full tank of gas, pay the tolls on the turnpike and parkway, and make your way to Atlantic City from New York City.
Whenever we get food from a local Italian place at work, I always order the Prosciutto. It’s prosciutto, fresh mozzarella, red roasted peppers, tomatoes, lettuce, and balsamic vinegar — all on toasted focaccia bread. It’s by far the greatest sandwich I have ever had in my life.
One day as I was explaining this masterpiece to Rebecca and her friend via email, I let spell checker work it’s magic. I didn’t notice until after I clicked send, but it changed prosciutto to prostitute. And as such, I titled the sandwich as THE PROSTITUTE.
Fortunately, I’m not the only one to encounter this issue with spell checkers (thank you, Jason Kottke, for finding such a great link).
Despite my attempts to stop it, my Microsoft Word program would always change the word for Italy’s famous cured meat into what it assumed I meant to type. The night we closed an issue, I would have nightmares that when the magazine hit the stands, one of my reviews would describe “the delicate sweet and salty balance of melon and prostitute.”
A Month
It’s been a month since you’ve passed, Sunny. For the most part, I can say that the days are getting easier to get through. But it’s actually a lot easier to say that than to actually feel like that. I do have my ups and my downs over what happened; there’s no doubt about it. I’m still trying to piece together everything that happened, and I think that’s the hardest part. I suppose I’m comfortable knowing you’re in a better place; probably chilling with Romeo somewhere up there. But I still have trouble grasping the fact that such a beautiful young cat had to go so early. I just don’t understand it. Not one bit of it. And that’s the hardest part of it all.
I understand you got sick and that’s why we had to make that decision to put you to sleep. It was the right thing to do; you couldn’t suffer any longer. But still, how could such a wonderful and innocent cat like you get that sick in the first place? There wasn’t an ounce of wrong in you. There was absolutely no reason for any of the events that transpired. I have difficulty with that.
Every morning before I leave for work I go to your bed and tell you how much I miss you. I suppose it’s my way of getting some form of comfort out of all of this. I know you’re not physically there, but you’ll always be in that bed in our hearts and minds. And that bed will always be there to remind us about you.
We’ve kept your favorite toy in that bed; birdy on a string. No one has touched it since you passed. But the other morning, we randomly heard it chirping. Of course your brother finally found it and decided to make it his after all this time (and lets not forget that he was once afraid of the thing, too). It was a good feeling hearing it chirp; it certainly reminded us of you and how you used to constantly play with it. Later that evening as we went to bed, your mom went to lay down only to discover that birdy on a string was now on her side of the bed. We had a good laugh about it, too. But I can’t help and think that Macky put it there to comfort us even more.
I’m still so sorry for everything that happened to you, Sunny. I have this guilt on my shoulders that it was all my fault and every day I’m continually apologizing to you in my head. I just cannot still comprehend everything and I don’t think I ever will, either. I hope the G-O-D is treating you well up there — he’s got a lot he can learn from you.
Our side ‘pet’ project, Sudsonbleeker, was started last night with a review of Coldplay’s new album, Viva la Vida. Sudsonbleeker will deliver rich content to SongMeanings every Wednesday.
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