I know I will regret this..................

[Master_n_Mentor]

A whole new side to you Rebecca.

Is this like the show the Ninja worriors, where they've gone a bit toooooooo far???

Thanks for the laugh.

 

[@}-}rebecca----]

.

http://i52.photobucket.com/albums/g38/nbright1969/mix%20Feb%2007/cs.jpg
​

.

Ummn Fu Darlun want to throw me a clue on this one I promise to pay attention !

You are messing with my purdy little brain right ?

 

[Shankara20]

Ummn Fu Darlun want to throw me a clue on this one I promise to pay attention !

You are messing with my purdy little brain right ?

was this not part of your course work in Tokyo?

http://i52.photobucket.com/albums/g38/nbright1969/mix%20Feb%2007/moresex.jpg​

 

[@}-}rebecca----]

A whole new side to you Rebecca.

Your comment suggests you know me . Do you I know you Master-n-Mentor from perhaps a more formal setting .

Is this like the show the Ninja warriors, where they've gone a bit toooooooo far???
Thanks for the laugh.

Ohhh you caught me being subtle in fact , if wish to scroll back months there are even sparkles of anarchy ..........smiles

Nevermind it is quite safe I am reformed now .

Welcome to Lit !!!

 

[@}-}rebecca----]

was this not part of your course work in Tokyo?

http://i52.photobucket.com/albums/g38/nbright1969/mix%20Feb%2007/moresex.jpg​

Ohhh Ohhh yes It must have slipped my memory , thanks Fu you rock !!

The top one scares me a little to be frank Fu. I was going to make a woody joke but that would be quite un lady like so I will desist ..............smiles

Art Manikins and 70's style leotards hard limits !!!

 

[@}-}rebecca----]

I found this exquisite picture just a few days ago and it reminded me of a song.........

http://i28.photobucket.com/albums/c224/rebecca000/sleep.jpg

Into My Arms ~ Nick Cave

 

[Shankara20]

Art Manikins and 70's style leotards hard limits !!!

while respecting hard limits....

http://i52.photobucket.com/albums/g38/nbright1969/mix%20Feb%2007/jerff.jpg​

.

 

[@}-}rebecca----]

while respecting hard limits....

http://i52.photobucket.com/albums/g38/nbright1969/mix%20Feb%2007/jerff.jpg​

.

ROFL........Oh Fu that is the most polite ummn instruction manual I have ever seen . Good Lawd where do you find such treasure my friend and thank you .

 

[Shankara20]

Good Lawd where do you find such treasure my friend and thank you .

About 18 months ago, while looking for a place to post pics of my pee-pee, I found Lit. I was living in Am Pics well enough. Then I started post my own CBT picks and interest started to dwindle. I soon found the GLBT forum and then "Talk" and the "Cafe". So far so good. Then I opened this thread. I did not know about photobucket or imageview or paint or photoshop. That was then - this is now. I picked up that gauntlet you tossed all those months ago...

http://i52.photobucket.com/albums/g38/nbright1969/mix%20Feb%2007/grooming.jpg​

 

[Shankara20]

http://i28.photobucket.com/albums/c224/rebecca000/Nekosan.jpg Ohhh almost left side, Fetish Boys play what you think name please ?

http://i28.photobucket.com/albums/c224/rebecca000/BeautyFetishNo4.jpg​

this post may have had something to do with it, but I don't remember for sure....

 

[@}-}rebecca----]

About 18 months ago, while looking for a place to post pics of my pee-pee, I found Lit. I was living in Am Pics well enough. Then I started post my own CBT picks and interest started to dwindle. I soon found the GLBT forum and then "Talk" and the "Cafe". So far so good. Then I opened this thread. I did not know about photobucket or imageview or paint or photoshop. That was then - this is now. I picked up that gauntlet you tossed all those months ago...

Well Fu I wasn't expecting that revelation but I thank you just the same and most sincerely. Let me see if I can transpose some posts from another of your threads that reminds me of the time I knew I had found some one I could both respect and enjoy in you ..........brb.

 

[@}-}rebecca----]

Time to pierce my nipples Thread ~ Shankara

Here we go.........

Originally Posted by Shankara20
if I have rings in all my piercing I DO clang when I walk around naked and make a hell of a racket when I masturbate...

OMG thanks for sharing Shankara
Like if you lived in an apartment could you like put on a CD of Classic Big Band tunes to compensate for the neighbours possibly overhearing or are we talking Marching Bands Dude ......smiles

flips on a CD for Shankara

If I’m in the mood for slow and gentle it is like a “ting” “ting” of the cymbal in a symphony,

if my mood is hot and fiery and angry it is like a brass band going over the side of a cliff

turn up the music Rebecca, the band has started

OMGGGGGGGG
grabs a rose crosses arms over chest ......lays down (don't even think about it !!!) ....... slides in EAR plugs...starts chanting to myself 'follow the light Rebecca just follow the light'
SHANKARA DUDE YOUR SUCH A CLASSIC !!!!

lets all follow Rebecca - I'm playing this right now...

OMG SUCH RAW TALENT
From a B flat to the climax of the 1812 Overture all in 'recital'
STANDS AND APPLAUDS

**blush**

It is an instrument I started playing as a teanager and continue to practice on almost daily

**blush**

Shankara's Report Card "Elective Special Interest" 2006

Is learning to occupy his time constructively.

Enthusiastic about participating.

Has been consistently progressing.

Seems eager to improve.

Volunteers often.

Hand work is beautifully done.

Is very helpful about clean-up work around the room.

Brings fine contributions.

Has good fine-motor skills

Has excellent eye hand co ordination skills

Takes pride in work well done

Exhibits creativity

Hard worker

With Shankara's ability to apply himself to each task, he should receive much satisfaction

signed Ivana Darnathur Orgazim

Why - thank you teacher - And I am working on being creative when I exhibit

Here is a link to a portfolio for past performances for your consideration (a few have been removed by event judges for content issues, however you may still be able to get a feel for my current talent level)

I would more than welcome the opportunity to perform at the next student recital.

A private audition can be arranged to demonstrate my proficiency in the subject at hand

And thus began an amazing friendship.........

You

Me.

 

[Shankara20]

And thus began an amazing friendship.........

ahhh - the early days - yes indeed....

 

[@}-}rebecca----]

ahhh - the early days - yes indeed....

Fu are we talking prehistoric or little dungeon on the prairie dude ......... : winks :

 

[Shankara20]

Fu are we talking prehistoric......

Shank, the early years..

http://i52.photobucket.com/albums/g38/nbright1969/funny/caveman.jpg​

Shank, early fireplay..

http://i52.photobucket.com/albums/g38/nbright1969/funny/caveman.gif​

Shank, early bondage...

http://i52.photobucket.com/albums/g38/nbright1969/funny/caveman-1.jpg​

Shank, early bra and panty...

http://i52.photobucket.com/albums/g38/nbright1969/funny/10103414.jpg​

 

[@}-}rebecca----]

Shank, the early years..

http://i52.photobucket.com/albums/g38/nbright1969/funny/caveman.jpg​

Shank, early fireplay..

http://i52.photobucket.com/albums/g38/nbright1969/funny/caveman.gif​

Shank, early bondage...

http://i52.photobucket.com/albums/g38/nbright1969/funny/caveman-1.jpg​

Shank, early bra and panty...

http://i52.photobucket.com/albums/g38/nbright1969/funny/10103414.jpg​

Good to know one of us is evolving Fu........

 

[Shankara20]

.

http://i52.photobucket.com/albums/g38/nbright1969/mix%20Feb%2007/BELLYBUTTON.jpg

​

.

 

[@}-}rebecca----]

.

http://i52.photobucket.com/albums/g38/nbright1969/mix%20Feb%2007/BELLYBUTTON.jpg

​

.

Ohh Sir Shank , you found my on / off switch or is the real answer more cryptic :smiles:

 

[@}-}rebecca----]

Savage in bed..........

Finally my iPod is thankfully more corrupted than my current taste in music . I have subscribed to Dan Savage's podcast and it's downloading as I type this. My sad nocturnal habit of listening to the less than dulcet tones of Anthony Bourdain is going to be surpassed by Dan the Man . I doubt the podcast will disappoint and for those interested in subscribing the address is as follows.............

http://www.thestranger.com/podcasts/savagelove/

http://i28.photobucket.com/albums/c224/rebecca000/savagelove.jpg

 

[@}-}rebecca----]

http://i28.photobucket.com/albums/c224/rebecca000/cupidglitters.gif
http://i28.photobucket.com/albums/c224/rebecca000/submissive-1.jpg

just sayun ~ click me​

 

[Shankara20]

just sayun ~ click me [/center]

cupid can also be an asshat

this is not a love song......



.

 

[@}-}rebecca----]

cupid can also be an asshat

this is not a love song......



.

laughs ........Sadist and Asshat in one

Surely no such beast exists !

C'mere you big lug ................... >>>> for Sir Shank

 

[Shankara20]

Why did you, dear Sister Rebecca, come to mind when I read this?



Modern Love -
The New Nanny Diaries

By HELAINE OLEN
Published: July 17, 2005

OUR former nanny, a 26-year-old former teacher with excellent references, liked to touch her breasts while reading The New Yorker and often woke her lovers in the night by biting them. She took sleeping pills, joked about offbeat erotic fantasies involving Tucker Carlson and determined she'd had more female sexual partners than her boyfriend.

How do I know these things? I read her blog.

She hadn't been with us long when we found out about her online diary. All she'd revealed previously about her private life were the bare-bones details of the occasional date or argument with her landlord and her hopes of attending graduate school in the fall.

Yet within two months of my starting to read her entries our entire relationship unraveled. Not only were there things I didn't want to know about the person who was watching my children, it turned out her online revelations brought feelings of mine to the surface I'd just as soon not have to face as well.

I hadn't exactly been a stranger to the sexual shenanigans of our previous baby sitters. One got pregnant accidentally by her longtime boyfriend and asked me for advice. Another was involved in a mostly off-again relationship with a fidelity-challenged college football player. Yet those were problems I could feel superior to and that made me grateful for the steady routine of marriage and children.

This was something else entirely.

It all began one day late last fall when we were tending to my toddler and she murmured to me: "I've started a blog. I'll give you the link."

I wrote the address in my appointment book but didn't rush off to my computer to look up her site. It wasn't until a month later, after she told me she'd post the Sharon Olds poem "Life With Sick Kids" on a day when both of the boys were ill, that I decided to be polite and take a look.

I read the poem, then I scrolled down to the next entry. And the next. Amid the musings on poetry and fanatical analysis of the "Gilmore Girls" was a sweet scene of sex with a new boyfriend, accounts of semi-promiscuous couplings and tales of too much drinking for my comfort.

My husband thought her writing precociously talented but wanted to fire her nonetheless. "This is inappropriate," he said. "We don't need to know that Jennifer Ehle makes her hot."

I defended her - at first. Didn't she have a right to free expression? It wasn't as though she was quaffing Scotch or bedding guys, or the occasional girl, while on the job. Besides, weren't all recent college graduates keeping Web logs?

But there was more to my advocacy. Suddenly, with her in my employ, I felt I was young and hip by proxy. I might be a boring mother of two, but my nanny, why, she dined in the hippest Williamsburg restaurants and rated the sexual energy of men and women she met. I was amused - and more than a bit envious.

I was about to turn 40. I'd been married almost 15 years. My ability to attend literary readings and art gallery openings was hampered by two children, and my party life was relegated to the toddler birthday circuit. I imagined the snoozefest that would ensue if I were to post:

Spent the morning at the Garfield Temple playroom. Tried to read Paul Krugman while other parents gave me dirty looks as my younger son attempted to filch their kids' dump trucks.

I told my friends about the blog, and even my childless acquaintances were riveted. They called, begging for more details. "Did she wear the rose negligee, the pink see-through slip or the purple Empire-waisted gown?" demanded one after perusing a post on the proper outfit for first-time sex. "She didn't say."

But I was not as comfortable with the situation as I pretended. The blog had brought odd similarities to the fore. I don't want to overstate the case: I was not bisexual, and I did not come from a strictly religious background, as my nanny did.

Yet we had enough in common - if I took her statements at face value - to make me uneasy. In my 20's I, too, felt passionately about 19th-century English literature but had long since let it go, barely able to concentrate on The New York Times, let alone Henry James. I, too, had an abortion back then. And trouble with depression? Check. Self-righteousness and inflated self-regard? Affirmative.

When our nanny asked permission to take her laptop to work so she could work on her graduate school applications while the baby napped, I said yes. Then I wondered if she was whiling away time with flirtatious e-mail messages - something she revealed on her blog she sometimes did. And when she came down with a stomach virus twice during a period when the rest of us were sick only once, I wondered about her confessions of boozy nights out followed by coming to work hungover. Paranoia, perhaps, but reading the blog seemed to encourage such thoughts.

Yet I did not confront her. In part I felt empathy and sadness for this younger version of myself. But I also feared she would judge my life and find it wanting.

As I read her words I was transported back to my own youth and those feelings of awkwardness, fear, false bravado and self-importance. I could have told her that I understood her life more than she realized, that I had not always been the boring hausfrau she must see. I could say that I, too, once stayed out late, drank too much and slept with the wrong people. I, too, once found my work obligations a tedious distraction from creative pursuits and thought myself superior to my surroundings, just as she appeared to.

Yet my awareness of this prior life and my knowledge that I'd outgrown it didn't spare me from feelings of intense doubt about my current life, times when I was convinced I'd made the wrong choices, days when my husband and I would spend hours tearing into each other over who should clean the tub after a child mistook it for the potty. On the other hand I also got to revel in days when I loved my life and children so much that it hurt.

But there was another element of her posts that unnerved me. Most parents don't like to think the person watching their children is there for a salary. We often build up a mythology of friendship with our nannies, pretending the nanny admires us and loves our children so much that she would continue to visit even without pay.

When our nanny referred to our house on her blog as work in a seemingly sarcastic fashion, she broke the covenant. The more she posted, the more life in our household deteriorated. It almost seemed that as she created the persona of a do-me feminist with an academic bent, it began to affect her performance. The woman who was loving if a bit strict toward the children became in our view short and impatient, slamming doors and bashing pans when my toddler wouldn't sleep and sighing heavily if asked to run an errand.

Instead of opening a dialogue, I monitored her online life almost obsessively. I would log on upstairs to see if she was simultaneously posting entries below me on her laptop while the baby was napping. Too often she was.

Looking at archived entries one afternoon, I read her reactions to an argument my husband and I had when she was in the house. "I heard a couple fighting within the confines of couples therapy-speak," she wrote. "I wanted to say, smack him, bite her."

It went on like that for three ghastly pages.

"I seethed," she added.

Well so did I. But mostly I felt hurt. My issues, my problems, my compromises, my entire being seemed to be viewed by her as so much waste.

Mortified into silence, I didn't tell my husband about the post. Nor could I tell her how disturbed the situation was becoming. I was beginning to realize either her employment or the blog would have to come to an end.

A few days later her anger boiled over. "I am having the type of workweek that makes me think being an evil corporate lawyer would be O.K.," she wrote. "Seriously. Contemplated sterilizing myself yesterday."

Whatever her reasons, whatever her frustrations, this was unacceptable. She had finally crossed my threshold of tolerance.

MY husband let her go the following Monday while my younger son and I were attending a Music for Aardvarks class. Even though she had posted entries about how discontented she was with our house and children and must have known there was a pretty good chance I'd read them, she appeared shocked. My husband didn't bring up the blog with her and instead cited other factors for her dismissal. He did not, he told me, care to find himself a character online.

She did not write that we had fired her. Instead she posted an entry about her "day of bad news," including a graduate school rejection, adding that her worst fears about other people were confirmed.

As for why she ever told me about her blog in the first place, I suppose I'll never know. Sometimes I suspect she was unhappy in my house and hoped our seemingly bourgeois souls would be so shocked we'd let her go, exactly as we did. Other times I believe she wanted me to assume a more maternal role, and I failed her. But perhaps that is self-aggrandizement.

I still read her blog, though not as frequently. Her life has settled down. She writes of domestic nights with her significant other and posts less often about coitus. (Well, O.K., they did have sex on the floor of his new abode, a Williamsburg loft.) She'll soon be leaving New York to attend graduate school. It's a life of passion and uncertainty, in which chance meetings can lead to the as-yet-unimagined.

In many ways it used to be my life. I miss it still. And I don't.

Helaine Olen is a journalist living in Brooklyn.

 

[@}-}rebecca----]

Hey...... I will only bite when I am told to and frankly just between you and I Sir Shank, it's been a long time between drinks ...rofl

More 's for Sir Shank because he seems a little cranky today .

Past your nap time dude ?

cryinglaughtertearshereomgkillmenow

Oh Oh before I forget , thank you for posting the story

Edit to add

Prefer to be the sleeper , woken by said biter.........smiles
Ohh Babeee !!!

End of Edit

 

[Shankara20]

Hey...... I will only bite when I am told to and frankly just between you and I Sir Shank, it's been a long time between drinks ...rofl

I understand

More 's for Sir Shank because he seems a little cranky today .

Past your nap time dude ?

cryinglaughtertearshereomgkillmenow

well it sure has nothing to do with what day it is and I can't even get a days thread here to stay alive let alone (alone - there is that word).... what the hell was I bitching about????

Edit to add

Prefer to be the sleeper , woken by said biter.........smiles
Ohh Babeee !!!

End of Edit

Well, you don't say! I never would have guessed.....

i do know a thing or three about you my dear