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(BTW, a girlfriend told me it was my worst post ever—depressing and sad. “Church” and “vibrators” practically in the same sentence?!? The shots he missed in the game he practiced the next day over and over and over again. I decided to correct the mistakes I believed I’d made in marketing. But hey, sometimes the events in life just doesn’t lend themselves to a light and witty post. The ultimate lesson to be learned of course was faith—faith in God—who doesn’t make mistakes. I changed the title and cover and book description. Certainly what I write nowadays is therapy for me, a way to vent and address my thoughts and issues . He switched to Italian and asked where I was going.
Truth be told, I’ve been attending Sunday Masses for a while. (My parents were PA and upstate NY born and raised, and I was born in New Jersey while my dad was stationed at Ft. The book I had decided to self-publish on Amazon had sold a whopping 4 copies! But all joking now aside, here’s a confession of a different sort. So as I sat there listening to a discourse about perseverance and talent, I wondered if maybe it wasn’t a message—not exactly a lightning bolt from the sky, a burning bush or the actual booming voice of God—but a message nevertheless. But thanks to a fortuitous Church sermon, a random video and a loyal follower’s email, I do know this: I know the answer to “where to now.” At least for a while . Walking through the Latin Quarter with that self-same colleague (with whom I have now bonded and call “friend”), we passed an Italian restaurant. And a rush of conscious realization now catching up to my subconscious. In Alabama it is still illegal to sell them to anyone without a doctor’s note. BTW, the same article reports that 53% of US women aged 18-60 have used a vibrator. In the meantime, in a step on the road to open discourse about sex after 60, including toys and lubes, here’s a couple recommendations. Box 6350 Scottsdale AZ 85261 if “back massagers” aren’t your thing, Riteaid has a little fit-on-the-finger number they call a “personal massager.” And contrary to the ads, a claw-footed bathtub is not required. I didn’t have the time to produce a book every 8-10 months which is what was required “to make it.” Nor did I have a supportive spouse. (Note and FYI: Not only were they men—having all served in the Greek army prior to beginning their college studies, they were all uncircumcised. Am I the only one who knows what they are meant to massage? So, too, the “device” itself—until it reemerged in the 1960s due to the sexual revolution. Until recently many southern and Great Plains states were able to ban the sale of vibrators completely as “obscene devices” by enforcing public moral codes that restricted private intimate conduct. It should be a natural progression we continue to carry the torch and more openly address subjects previously taboo “in polite company.” So here goes . Today it’s the notion that if a man and woman over 50 do “it,” it’s by sitting in respective claw-footed bathtubs and holding hands over the rim? Unfortunately, I can’t now find that woman’s email. I will absolutely run her article and supply her link. I was told I was very good and had all the potential and talent needed “to make it.” The problem was success required prolificacy, and I had three boys who required their mom.
To say it was a romantic fantasy and an erotic escape would be an understatement. Where do I go in 2018 (metaphorically speaking/writingwise, ‘cause we all know I went literally to Paris—see “Now Taking Applications”).