And now my bitter hands shake beneath the clouds of what was everything. . .
All this love gone bad, turned my world to black, tattooed all I see, all I am, all I'll ever be. . .

Okay, so here's the skinny for my fellow SG'ers. i know of at least, oh two people who'll be interested in this, or disgusted, or both, depensing on how morally flexible you are?

I am married to a wonderful, if boring, woman, Diana-Elizabeth, or Diz, as I call her. I've been with her nine years and married to her 11 months. I am also in love with another woman: Kindra. She's American and I've never actually met her. . .

Let me let THAT sink in to your collected consciousness, for a moment. . .


Okay? Good, I'll continue. How can you be in love with a woman you've never met? I hear you ask. Well it's simple really. Thousands of hours of transatlantic phone conversations, webcam, emailing back and forth like crazy and the basic illogical realisation that I am not only inspired by this woman, but quickened by her also. I told her how I felt about her recently, after much soulsearching. She admitted to feeling the same way. . .
I'm hanging on her words, living on her breath, feeling with her skin. . .
We call each other every single day, addicted to the thoughts and feelings we share, hooked on each others' voice. My thoughts never leave her and hers me.
I am now preparing myself for the heart shrivelling inevitability of despair. She will never truly be mine I fear, as her husband is a pigfucker who has tthreatened her with the loss of thier child if she divorces him.
My wife has accused me of having an affair twice in three weeks. I would, if I could.

If it wasn't for the fact that we live three thousand miles and five hours time difference apart, we'd be having an affair already. She isn't happy either and is also a stinking coward - like me, it seems.


You can be disgusted with me now.
I'll allow it. . .

dekka's not here right now, but if you leave a message and a suggestive picture of yourself, he'll get right back at you. . .

I became a fan of the Suicide Girls after seeing them in that episode of CSI: NY, a while back. Then I bought the first tour DVD, then I joined the site.

Here I met 'the bomb' a Scottish beauty by the name of Battalioness, who I worship as the fucking diamond angel of hotness she is! Faye if you're reading this I worship you honey - you're fucking gorgeous!

Then some months ago, at the urging of my buddy Phil, I rejoined MySpace UK. I'd been a member of this net community before SG. There I met a girl named Kindra, American, pretty, stunning sense of humour and intellect and so in tune with me it's scary.

I think I'm in love with her. And that is just fucking insane because I've never actually met her in the flesh.

I want her just the same. . .

Basically I'm fucked.

Okay, I think I'm fucked.

I'm falling in love with someone.

And she's not my wife. . .

I'm miserable as FUCK today.

My holiday is almost at an end and I didn't get nearly as much work done editing my novel as I needed to. The weather outside is sticky, humid and overcast - grey, grey, grey!!!

My face in the mirror irritates me, my marriage bores me, my job pisses me off to the point of homicidal rage, basically I'm one fucked up little Monkey right now.

I'm horny as FUCK today.

Being here is NOT helping, merely exacerbating the problem.

Still, frustration (of one variety or another) is where I live and breath. . .

Hey there sexy ladies (and decerning fellas).

The editing of my first novel is coming along - slowly - but I want to get it right.
Of course, if I could stay away from the Playstation 3 that'd be a help, Christ! I have such poor self discipline. Other than that - nothing to report.

I'm still here.
I'm still a member.
I'm not going anywhere.
I'm still waiting for something dare-to-be-great to happen in my life (aren't we all?)

My best, meantime, goes out to all those SuicideGirls and members I've shared words with.
For more musings, both comical and tragic - check me out on Myspace UK under 'Punched Monkey'

One gal in particular!

Dekk (Steve) XXX.

Nobody loves me, so I'm going out for a drink at my buddy Steve's house.

Flabaracadabra: I rediscovered my mojo.

It says, if you'd be so kind as to cast your pervert's eyes upward at my beautiful baby pink header, that I'm off looking for my sexdrive and that you should leave a message.
Yesterday I was approaching creatively motivated once more, while concerned I was losing sexual interest in my wife - Diz, or indeed just sexual interest - period!

Well, I rediscovered it last night, when directly challenged by the Diz, to explain why I hadn't tried to fuck her in a while. I explained with the usual crap, you know - work stress, general life pissing me off, things getting staid - that sort of stuff.
Anyhoo, to cut a longer story short, fellow preverts, she asked me what she could do to spice things up for me.
Now, I hate hairy pussy sportsfans, it has to be said. Guys, you know how annoying it can be going down on your woman/Miss right now/current fuck-toy when she has what I refer to as the 70's Italian pussy. I.E: practically a neck to nuts bush. I asked her to shave it. . .
Imagine my delight when, to my great surprise, instead of a glancing blow to the head and being told to 'fuck off' she got up from the bed, slinked into the bathroom and returned soon after with a beautiful clean shaven pussy.
I reciprocated in the only way fitting with some serious oral. Even she had to admit she came a hell of a lot faster without the Amazon Basin between her thighs. Thus hot and bothered Diz proceeded to ride me like a purple haired bitch from Hell. The sex was brief - but good.

Probably more information than any of you wanted, but I like full disclosure.
Questions, comments, deaththreats to the usual place. All are welcome.