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Panel Advises Longer Life For Space Station
suraj.sun writes "A presidential panel reviewing the US space program has found that the United States needs to boost NASA's budget by $1.5 billion to fly the last seven shuttle missions and should extend International Space Station operations through 2020. The panel also proposed adding an extra, eighth shuttle flight to help keep the station supplied and narrow an expected 5-7 year gap between the time the shuttle fleet is retired and a new US spaceship is ready to fly."
ladies, get your pussies ready!
Rob Malda has a loose asshole.
"I'm fucking your ass!" he yelled.
There's not a lot between me and my upstairs neighbors, and if I can hear the pitter-patter of their little Chihuahua's claws on their hard wood floors, then they surely--at three in the morning--heard this jagoff yell, "I'm fucking your ass."
To his credit, it was a true statement, that he was having sex with my ass. It was also true to our situation about thirty seconds prior--the situation of the various parts of him that were in the various crevices of me--when he yelled, "My finger is in your ass!" Indeed, his finger was in my ass. His thumb, I guessed. I don't know. You can't really see what's going in and out of your ass on your hands and knees. You have to make a guess, or sleep with a douche like this, who will tell you exactly what's in your ass. Shortly after, when he yelled, "I can feel my finger in your ass on my dick!" I imagined it was because he could probably feel his finger or thumb through my ass on his dick.
But why yell these things out, really? Is it necessary? No, and it's not sexy, either.
To begin this entry, I must explain that I'm balls deep in recovery right now, and I find it absolutely exhausting. Every day is the same bullshit: trying to feel, trying not to let anger rule me, trying to detach from all the things that keep me...me. I can't drink or do drugs. I have to abstain from them, and I'm doing only sort of okay at that, and while I'm abstaining from those vices, I've got to figure out how to manage quitting sex, too. I can't do that. I'm too horny. Sex will have to be the vice I get around to quitting once I've figured out how to abstain from the rest of the nonsense. Perhaps I'll procrastinate on that forever. I am a very sexual person. That's why they call me Bunny, for christ's sake. I'm always humping.
So while I'm procrastinating about sex and allowing myself to have it, I'm also having a difficult time finding it. It's hard to get a good lay in a town where everyone's batshit, lives-in-the-woods crazy or over sixty. There are three attractive single guys in town who bathe, and I've done two of them already.
The first of them went missing, which was not fun. I was sort of into him, but he stood me up and it was a rather embarrassing outcome, not because he did it while I was in public sitting by myself over a glass of wine and a bread basket, waiting for him to show while everybody in town looked at me piteously, but because of who he is, which is a slacker. He does some sort of construction job for a living, can't keep a conversation going, has no college education, is divorced or separated with a kid and isn't particularly good looking. I've never had great taste in guys, but even for me, it was a stretch. He had nice eyes--a cuteness, a quirkiness--and there was something really naughty about him. He had a devious smile. He was a troublemaker; I like that.
He ended up being very good in bed, and I rather enjoyed being with him. Not just sleeping with him, but being around him too, in his presence. I don't know if my being "into" him was desperation so much as a clicking, or a chemistry. Some people...well, you really just ought to have sex with them. It's the right thing to do. You have compatible pheromones. It wouldn't be appropriate to maintain the distance between, according to the rules of nature.
But then he went poof, so what can I say but whatever?
After him came a few trysts with some lesbians. One on vacation with her girlfriends. A girl from New Zealand I wasn't the least bit attracted to. She was very pretty, but I wasn't into her, and I had sex with her anyway, for a reason I'll get to in a bit. It was the wrong and selfish thing to do, and I regret it, because it's not like you can have sex with someone without them figuring out you're apathetic about the act mid-act, and you're faking the moans and the pleasure, and if you do fake it, isn't it irresponsible? You can't just say, in passing, that you entered another body because there was just something interesting about he
reading comprehension, you failed it.
How we know is more important than what we know.
the ISS sucks.