Tag Archives: shoes

better than sex.

There. I said it. As I rapidly approach the age of 56 in a week or two with my heels dug into the floor like a sugar-induced 4 year old at the end of a Chucky Cheese Birthday party, I have proclaimed that a good foot rub IS, in fact, better than sex.

footNow mind you, I’ve had my share of outstanding sex, so I speak with authority. I’ve had sex with people that I either long to remember, can’t remember, or don’t WANT to remember. There were sexcapades in exotic locations like beach front homes, hot tubs overlooking city skylines, the Ritz-Carlton overlooking Central Park in autumn, once on a gondola ride to the top of Mount Killington in Vermont, and even once in the private dining room of a restaurant. I’ve also enjoyed sexual encounters in not so exotic, but no less exciting places like sofas, cars (both front and back seats and once the hood of), bathrooms, bedrooms, kitchens, and even the occasional alley and stairwell. Oh the blog entries I have ahead of me…

However, none of them compare to the feeling of having an honest to goodness foot rub. My job in sales requires that I work on my feet for several hours at a time. I continue to smile at work in hard soled shoes and I am fortunate enough to have a man who thinks nothing of offering me a foot rub when I get home to make me feel good. He’s pretty much offered to do them from about a month into our now 8 year relationship.

He has good hands… strong hands. Over time Daryl has learned to adjust his touch via my facial expressions, verbal cues, or perhaps it’s the guttural moan that accompanies an especially tender ball. Of my foot, the ball of my foot! We haven’t used lotions, oils or scrubs while he continues to improve the circulation of my aching dogs.

Then one time after a particularly vigorous rub (or maybe it’s been several times, damn it!) I thought I heard him ask ME if I’d return the favor.

Asking me AFTER my foot rub, is like asking a guy if he loves you after sex. Hello? I just came after all that pleasure and now I want to take a nap. Wham bam thank you uh… MAN. Anyway, I ignored his requests for reciprocal rubs because… well… I think it’s because my hands aren’t strong enough (lie) or perhaps I have an aversion to feet in general (lie), or maybe it’s just due to the fact that I’m selfish (truth).

Well tonight, it’s going down. This afternoon I went out and bought one of those foot soaking bubble massagers at Wal-Mart for under 20 bucks. Problem solved! I’ll just tell him to let me fill it up, plug it in, turn it on, and watch the fun begin! It’s like a dildo for your feet!

You think I’m THAT shallow?

Don’t worry. I’m not THAT selfish and uncaring most times. I WILL let him soak his feet after I make an outstanding dinner accompanied with a choice wine. I’ll provide music and a relaxing mood as he soaks his cares away. Once he’s all wet and seduced by bubbly joy, I promise to give his balls (feet) a rub as well as manipulate his digits (minds up here) with scented oils and moisturizing creams.

Hopefully he’ll be so relaxed, he won’t be able to walk. In a good way.



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twitter twitter little star…

I used to adore Hollywood stars. I’d have this internal “image” of them in my head of how they would drive in a convertible about the coast of gorgeous California from garden party to social event with ease. They’d be in outfits that they shopped for on sun-filled jaunts to Rodeo Drive sacking different shoes for every day in between tennis lessons on bluffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

Then I signed up for Twitter, and discovered I was WRONG.

I don’t truly know why I opted to join the “Tweeters” of the world. I think I caved in (as usual) during a second glass of an Australian Shiraz one evening when I was bored. On a side note: I have discovered my liking for MORE vegetables while on a second glass of wine. It’s as if the walls of disgust come tumbling down and my eyes get a glaze in them that make it easy for me to try new things! Hopefully this never happens while near a bungee cord and a bridge.

Anyway, as I began to navigate my way around on Twitter… okay, it wasn’t really considered navigating so much as stalking, I immediately started my Twitter fest by following half of the cast of my favorite soap opera (and one of the few remaining) General Hospital. I invited these actors into my home daily, so obviously they just HAD to be cool west coast folks as well. Right?

At the risk of not mentioning any specific names, the stunningly handsome and eloquent Prince of the Cassidine family, who also has the most incredible body known to man, is as stupid as an ass. His tweets directed me to his blog which he continuously touts as random thoughts from the beach. Try random complete sentences without the adjective of defecation in three or four different ways Tyler (oops). Myth debunked in a major way (although his ass still rocks).

Then there’s my favorite bitch/mother/lover/slut Carly whom I absolutely ADORE for her blatant honestly on the soap. Oh wait… that didn’t come out right. Regardless, her rants on Twitter don’t describe engaging social events by the pool or charity events with A-List stars, but rather include wine sloshed comments about her family vineyard and how they make candles from wine bottles to sell on a web site. She also punctuates every sentence she posts with ha or haha or hahaha as if she thinks everything she says is funny. I’m disappointed.

Other stars that fizzle include Kristen Chenoweth who gives me chills when she sings, but can’t type for shit (people: it’s you’re, not your for Christ sake!).  Sean Hayes from “Will and Grace” fame tweets @KChenoweth Love you back!!! Ridiculous.

When I signed up, I was looking for pretentious Hollywood people. I wanted who sleeps with whom, who got fired from what and who has yet to get thrown out of the proverbial closet!

Total Twitter disenchantment!

I’ve learned to follow, unfollow, and then follow again some of the hippest celebrities in the business. I’ve discovered how to RE-tweet, comment, email and post photos on Twitter. I’ve educated myself on those incessant #hash #tags as well.

But I wonder. Do I REALLY want to debunk the celebrity “mystique” that I’ve grown accustomed to from years of subscribing to People Magazine? Now where’s that bottle of Shiraz?

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good shoe, bad shoe.

Are you aware that when you can’t reach your sneakers because of a newly formed and ever growing stomach that you tend to tie it differently?

Take note at what I’ll call the “good sneaker” photo at left. Note it’s clean, precise knot and also how it’s tied with the bow placed perfectly center due to graceful bending at the waist thus the scientific center of gravity.

Now note that in the example on the right, which I will refer to as “bad sneaker.” Notice a much looser knot that is skewed to the side of the shoe due to folding the knee and leg over a stationary leg to gain proper reach.

In conclusion– the next time you see someone with their shoe knot askew OR if they have velcro ties instead of laces, you will know that they cannot touch their toes.

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men are heels.

In honor of International Women’s Day 2011*, a new shoe by designer Shoo Shoo LaRue was recently announced. The 6-inch (read: actually 4-inch) open-toed heel made its European debut at the now famous “Shoes ‘R Us” in Paris, France last week.

“Pre-orders have been flooding in,” according to Eff Mi Pumpes, noted French fashion trend expert and editor of “Owe” magazine, “however, until LaRue increases the interview process for naked muscle-bound men that are 4 inches tall, they may have huge backlogs well into the summer.”

Word on the street is that the shoes, tentatively titled “Men are Heels,” will surely be the rage in Europe for spring, followed closely by American women this summer. Sue C. Sunshine of New York City’s “Fashion Weekly,” was quoted as stating that “American women LOVE to walk all over men, and what better way than to have two under-foot all day? I just hope that all dog walkers clean up after their pooches on the sidewalks because… well you get the picture.”

Once available, the shoes will retail at $125 in the States and will be available in several man-stomping colors.

*strictly satire.
I totally support women and their plight in every way shape or form.   

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