Sex with Midgets and and Birthday Bash at Sea

I had to put down one of my favorite shows last night. For the last few seasons, I have been a die hard fan of Nip/Tuck. Yes, I admit it, I loved watching the surgeries, the love, the sex, the hate and the bizarre, even when my family rebelled and my baby ran screaming from the room every time she saw a butter knife because she snuck at peek one night and spied a scalpel doing its work. But, I'm through now. What drove me over the edge? The leading lady was about to have sex with a midget.
You read that right.
At least she kissed him and when their lips met, I turned off the boob tube and threw it across the room.
Now, they have had a porn star falling in love with the sex addicted surgeon, all the men have chetaed on the women, the woman have cheated on the men, sometimes with the other men. there has been a penis-less slasher who sodomized his victims with a strap on and all sorts of sexual deviations. But sex with the midget baby sitter was just too much for me. I'm done. Cured of that show.

I was on blog hiatus last week. I celebrated my birthday at Sea. On the actualy day I was in Cozumel, running down the road in a death trap dune buggy, following a guide who was lost, lost, lost. He ran right up into someone's very luxury looking yard, while the gardener looked on brandishing a water hose but saying nothing as if a string og gringos in dune buggy's was a normal occurence. He didn't even speak when we ran over the cactus and then had to abandon one of the cars that couldn't turn around and wouldn't re-start.

Of course I had forgotten how melanin challenged I am, out running around in the Central American Sun. After I swam with the fishies in Belize I became a veritable crispy critter and now my peeling skin looks like I am dirty and haven't washed it in ages. Hell,, If I have reached this age without a wrinkle, a smidget of sun won't hurt me, I guess. I do have one souvenir, a picture of me with a dolphin.

You are supposed to clap and stuff to reward the dolphins when they do tricks. But here I was in water, with little fish kissing on my legs (and some of them weren't so little, they were big enough to be dinner), and a big ass fish right up in my face, and I was just stunned. I couldn't move. Me and the Dolphin seemed to have some kind of mind connection (I am not kidding), she turned to the side and was just looking me if the eye as if to say, "You better clap, BI---!" Even though they said she was just a baby, she was bigger than I was, so I started clapping like a happy seal. I was even ready to start yelling "Ar! Ar! AR!" if she wanted me too. After it was over, our young guide (I know, he said he'd been in high school two years ago), told me all about how the government of Belize just gives you land and did I know he was ready to start building his ponderosa? He dang near invited me to come live with him. I think that was the best birthday gift and old bird like me can get--and invitation from a young chickie. He wasn't too bad to look at either. But alas, my ship was waiting.

We were on Norweigan, and I gotta tell you, there is a reason why they don't say they are the Fun Ship. It was more like The Geriatric Boat. I saw more motorized vehicles on board than at a Buffalo Soldier Motorcycle rally. The nightclub was dead, dead, dead, and I discovered that Freestyle Dining is a code phrase for "foraging for food". There were times when no restaurants were open and dining in anything with a waiter meant a three hour affair.

As soon as I got to my cabin, I did receive a big welcome from my toilet. It decided that it wasn't a toilet, but a water fountain and erupted, sending a geyser up into the air. It spewed water into the air for a good half hour. Good thing there was a floor drain. I didn't unpack in the hopes they would move me to the big suite upstairs. No such luck though, they came and fixed it, but the toilet stayed mad and refused to flush about every other day. Then the ghost in my cabin would open the door every time the ship rocked. Unfortunately for me, it was always in the middle of the night. Let's just say I had the cabin that came with extra ventilation.

There was a bright side, I won in the casino every night, and I had a birthday party at sea. It was "Nina Foxx's PJ Party at Sea" and we had a blast. Just so you know,t everyone's special parts were indeed covered, but when my sister got started with her games, the men ran screaming from the room. Or at least they tried to, after we got the conference room door unlocked. Now, It wouldn't be a Nina Trip without an adventure. After we went into the room , the door locked behind us, trapping us inside. So here we are, a bunch of morenas in their pj's, trapped in a room, waving the passersby to come help us. The mature folks in the hallway looked at us like we were nuts and decided that there was no way they were going to help the nut jobs locked in the room. Security finally figured it out and came with what looked like a skeleton key. The men were vey relieved as they made a beeline out of there. There were certainly sweating bullets. I think the Pageturner husband's shirt was plastered to his back by then.
Our games began. We played X-rated Charades and other fun games. Let me tell you folks, what comes to mind when I hear the song Sexual Healing will never be the same again. I learned about lubrication and what a taint is and is not. We read instructional manuals aloud to each other and Mrs Pageturner laughed so hard when it was her turn that she cried. I had to watch her closely because I thought she was going to choke. In the end, we had fun and all left with a bag full of chocolate and battery-powered goodies. It was alll good. I even let some of the ladies act like they didn't know what to do with their takeaways.

And now, its back to the grind. I'm in that home stretch of writerdom with a deadline around the corner, the time of year when I live in exercise clothing and a bare face--sigh. I'll make sure to reward myself when that finished draft is in my hands....


Anonymous said…
Hmmm -- sex with migets, x-rated charades, bunch of folks locked in a room in thier nightclothes and battery powered toys for grown folks....

lawd, lawd, lawd! how does one get an invite to these parties anyway? wonder if i'll run across dvds on the internet about "grown girls going wild on the seas". but hey, you are grown now, so it is all very good. happy belated birthday!

(i'm guessing your google ads will continue be VERY interesting)

casa de chico

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