TMI Tuesday: June 30, 2020: Robots and Love

combat figure fingers gear
Photo by Mike on Pexels.com

 

1. Should we be worried about sex robots?
https://www.sciencefocus.com/future-technology/should-we-be-worried-about-sex-robots-kate-devlin/

I have been fascinated about robots for years. I even use to run a yahoo email group about robots. I’m not worried about them as sex partners at all. I feel for a lot of people it will be a needed tool to keep them sexually active. People always proclaim: “What about the human interaction? They will be missing out on that!!” Well, guess what, there are people who are already missing out on human interaction for one reason or another. Should they be further penalized because they have limits and are unable to relate to another human being? There are those who are physically disabled and usually are over looked as sex partners by able bodied people. They have as strong sexual desires as anyone else and they might easily choose to have sex robot to fulfill their desires. Then there are those who just have a hard time relating to other people. Robots will be a part of our lives more and more all the time. It doesn’t have to be something we are afraid of. 

2. A humanoid (a life-like robot) that looks like your biggest crush, and acts exactly the way you hoped your crush would act has been created. This humanoid initiates sex, with you. Would you have sex with the humanoid?

Of course, I would need more information about this humanoid robot, see it, talk to it, find out it’s prime objective. But I would have no problem having sex with a robot. I would see it as just another tool in my sexual repertoire, much like my Hitachi vibrator.

3. What’s your typical sleep attire?

I sleep completely naked. I hate getting twisted and tied up in nightgowns.

4. What is the most cringe-worthy thing you have experienced in the bedroom?

I am almost reluctant to say this as I know other people’s fetishes provide something they need, but at the time this was a total turn off for me. It was a one night stand (don’t judge, this was the 70’s) and the guy just wanted me to watch while he masturbated while wearing women’s red lace panties. I would say he just had the wrong partner for this. It bugged me that he assumed all women would get off on this.

5. Are you satisfied with the amount of after-sex affection (e.g., spooning, cuddling, intimate conversation) you receive? yes or no . If no, how could it be better?

In general, no. Two areas that most men (no, not all) fail in, are foreplay and after sex. Foreplay doesn’t mean just after you get naked and into bed. Foreplay starts long before which includes suggestions, ideas, teasing, anticipation… talking about it long before it happens, texting, sexting, sexing phone calls through out the day until you finally can get together physically. And then after it’s like once it’s over for him, it’s over for everyone. I have lost count as to how many men came, pulled out, rolled over and went to sleep. In almost all cases I never had an orgasm. A smart man will make sure his partner has had an orgasm before he does… one guy told me his motto was “ladies come first” and he lived up to that. And after sex, cuddling is appreciated, talking to me like I’m still there is VERY appreciated. Otherwise you end up feeling like nothing more important than a sex toy.

Bonus: What is your most useless skill?

I can name that tune and artist after just about 6 notes. Not sure when that will ever come in handy.

1robot

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TMI Tuesday

What Movie Makes You Happy

There are a lot of movies that make me smile, and some that make me laugh. But there is one movie I was watching where I stopped and realized… I Feel Happy!!

It was during the movie Scrooge with Albert Finney and the song “Thank You Very Much”… and I felt chills of happiness. It rarely happens, so I really noticed it when it did.

Even now watching it again, I get those same chills.

Recipe of the Day: Broccoli Cheese Rice

Broccoli Cheese Rice

1broccolicheese

3/4 cup uncooked rice
1/2 onion
1 can of cheddar cheese soup
1 small package of frozen broccoli pieces
1 teaspoon butter or margarine

Cook rice according to package directions. Chop up the onion and saute in butter in a frying pan. When the onion is tender and translucent, add the broccoli and saute 2 or 3 minutes. In a casserole dish, mix the cooked rice, the onion and broccoli, and the cheddar cheese soup together. If too thick, add a little milk. Sprinkle with Parmesan cheese and paprika, if you like. Bake at 325 degrees for 20-30 minutes.

Broccoli Cheese Rice

 

What is most important to you?

I had to think about this… for me personally, or for me as a citizen of the world and that’s when I realized it was the same for both.

What is important is fairness, equality, equity, acceptance, caring, kindness.

That we see the differences each other and we celebrate those differences as well as the things that we share… hopes, dreams, goals.

We each have our own cultures, background, histories, viewpoints and all of this is what makes life so rich.

The goal should be to listen and pay attention and learn from one another.

It’s really not that hard.1diversity1

 

The Journey

1faraway

I turn to social media and my blog for support and ideas from my family and friends, to read, to write, to play games for distraction.

I read books as an escape and I read books looking for answers, and I google key words for more the same.

I listen to music to relax.

I get up and walk around for a change.

I take vitamins with hope and take medications out of desperation.

I make lists of things I want to do, but don’t do for lack of energy.

I avoid sleeping and then end up sleeping for 18 hours.

I know the right things to say, think and do, but none of it happens fast enough.

And this is just the beginning of this new journey.

Covid…..Say What? — The Wonderful and Wacky World of One Single Mom

I am gonna say it…..I am a little annoyed. I don’t know about anyone else but Covid-19 is not an abstract thought for me. Not in the least. Gentleman in our area that passed from Covid-19 turned out to be second cousin to a close friend of mine. My mom had to quarantine because a […]

via Covid…..Say What? — The Wonderful and Wacky World of One Single Mom

“I want people to realize the severity of this crisis.

To behave accordingly.
To stop wailing about their government attempting to save their lives.
To realize that they are not the be all and end all of the world.
Because based on my most recent transactions about 95% of the people I deal with
feel that this is being done to them intentionally.
That is right…….the world is inconveniencing them on purpose!
Grow up.
See beyond yourselves.
Be a part of the solution not the problem.
I know I should put an addendum.
I know that this is an issue where people believe or they don’t.
But I am done being polite.
I am done being nice.
Grow the fuck up.
Get your head out of your ass.
If you are not part of the solution you are the problem.
And truthfully I could not care if you get sick.”
Facebook refused to allow me to post this on my wall. Said it goes against their community standards.

Telling people about a pandemic virus goes against their standards.

Yet, Trump can post any conspiracy theory he wants and they allow that.

So I’m reposting it here and I will post it on Twitter. I agree with this 100%

Something That Worries Me

I am a big fan of two things in life… learning and sharing.

Education can come in many different forms… from formal education in a classroom to reading a variety of books from a library. It’s asking questions and listening and asking more questions. It’s looking for new viewpoints.

The other; sharing… volunteering to help others, to donate funds and items that helps others, lending a hand to those who need to help others.

I’m listening to and reading online comments from people who claim to be followers of a teacher who is said to encourage these two ideas but they are doing anything but.

One woman who screamed at others that she will teach her grandchildren to hate “you people”. Family members who talk about others as nothing more than objects. Those who refuse to do one simple thing, like wear a face mask, that could help keep others from getting sick.

I’ve always known that the world was full of selfish, narrow minded people who didn’t care for anyone else but themselves. The fear and guilt they promoted has always been there. But it seems it’s more overt, in your face right now. It’s as if the racist squatter in the White House has given them all permission to be angry and hate and make sure we all know exactly how they feel. Too much of this hate is becoming action meant to send messages of fear to the rest of the country, and the world.

They are not happy that “the others” that they fear and hate are now pushing back. Women with the #MeToo movement, The Pride movements, Black Lives Matter, are three of the largest.

But smaller, quieter ones are also pushing back… older people, fat people, disabled people and non-Christians.

And this last one is one that is usually fueling the strong anger and hate that infect the others…. Conservative Christians are the only group who has the majority and then tries to force fear and guilt because they don’t have a monopoly.

It’s the white, straight, rich, Christian males who guide the rest of the problems. They hate BIPOC. They hate LGBTQ. They fear strong women and only want young obedient submissive Christian women who have enough sense to stay at home and raise babies like they were designed to do. They hate and fear the poor. They hate non-Christians; Muslims, Jews, Pagans, Atheists and even some that self identify as Christian but the conservatives refuse to recognize them as such.

This group also dislikes, if not right out hates, and fears education and helping others. Republicans have for generations insisted that people stand on their own two feet and not expect government aid. Conservatives encourage early marriage so that young people can’t get too smart, especially young women. If they have to have education, they insist it has to be “Christian” education, which isn’t really education. It’s indoctrination.

They don’t learn or know the history of our country, or even of their own religion. They encourage ignorance on both, because “poorly educate” people are easier to control and manage.

So what am I worried about?

I’m worried that conservatives have infiltrated politics at such a rate that it might be hard to turn it around. This is not by accident, this is by design, and has been the goal since the 1950’s when they forced “under God” to be added to the Pledge of Allegiance and on the dollar bill. Both of those were intended to force god onto everyone whether they wanted it or not.

The goal of electing Donald Trump was a simple one. To get conservative judges on the Supreme Court so that they will overturn Roe Vs Wade and outlaw abortions. If they can accomplish that, the next goals of repealing the amendments that give “others” the rights we have… women’s rights, civil rights, gay rights. They would love to take us back to the 1920’s when women, black people and gay people are all second class citizens and have no rights to speak out, to object and to vote. The only ones who would have these rights would be them… white, straight, rich, Christian males.

And if you think I’m overreacting, just look at how way too many people are reacting to the Covid 19 novel coronavirus in this country.

Instead of listening to the experts and learning about the virus and about how to keep from getting it, and more importantly how to help others from getting it, they are only thinking of themselves. They don’t care if anyone else gets sick and dies. As long as it’s not them. They want to go to the beach. They want to get a haircut. They don’t want to wear a mask.

Education and helping others.

Learning and sharing.

These are choices and it’s amazing, it’s appalling, how many people don’t want to do either one.

 

Holding On pt7

Semi-Erotic Fiction Based on True Events

Holding On pt6

David, exhausted, finally fell asleep and I knew this was my sign to leave. I felt like all he had wanted was a one night stand and we both got that and then some.
I quietly slipped out of his arms, reluctantly, and got dressed trying to not disturb him. He had more than earned his rest.

I pulled my pants on, without putting on my panties, they were still damp, so I just wadded them up and stuffed them into my purse. I shimmied back into the tube top and slipped on my sweater. Sometimes not putting on underwear is so much easier. As I slipped my shoes on, I felt him stir on the bed and I looked over just as he opened his eyes..

“Where are you going?”

“I have to leave, love.. I have to go to work.”

That wasn’t totally true. I didn’t have to go to work later that afternoon. But I feared the garish light of morning, and the awkward turn of events after a night of sex, of a one night stand, when you both try to find a way to end it and say good bye. I didn’t want to be the one who was kicked to the curb, so I chose to lie and leave first.

David stroked my arm and said, plaintively,

“But I love waking up to the face of a beautiful girl….”

Oh, my god, that almost did it. I almost peeled off my clothes again and fell back into his waiting arms. But I held on to my resolve.

“I’m sorry, I have to go.”

I kissed him one last time on his incredibly soft lips and willed myself to pull way from him. I stood up and turned and walked towards the door. A single tear escaped from my eye and I secretly hoped he would jump up and block the door and beg me to stay. But he didn’t. I walked out of the door, closing it softly behind me and walked down to my car and got in. I sat there for a minute collecting my thoughts before I turned on the ignition, put the gear in drive and drove away.

All the way home, I questioned my sanity. Maybe it wasn’t just a one night stand. Maybe he really did want me to stay, but his foolish pride, and mine, didn’t allow for either of us to say so. But I knew that wasn’t true. I knew that that was just what I was hoping for, not what was real.

I spent the rest of the day sitting in silence at home, reliving the night. I sat on the floor with my back against the window, wearing cut offs and a tank top, again, with no underwear, sipping on a warm, flat Coke. My hair was wet and every time it started to get dry, I’d strip and jump back into the shower, like I was trying to wash the memory of David and the last night out of my hair and of my memories. It wasn’t working. Finally, in what seemed like hours and hours, I realized I had to get ready to go to work. Why had last night seemed like it had lasted just minutes and the few hours I’d been home seemed like days?

I plaited my long hair into a braid, mostly just to get it out of my face, and then dressed in jeans and a navy blue tee shirt and zoris and went to work just before 3pm, not being due to clock in until 3:45.

I walked into the telephone company operator services office 15 minutes early and offered to start then, which allowed someone else to go home 15 minutes early. That was fine with me, I wanted to be busy and not have any more time to myself to think about David. Too bad that didn’t help. Everything at work reminded me of David…

I sat down at an empty station of the long row of switchboards. This was last old cord board office in Seattle and we were getting ready to be switched out to the new computer boards, which I found to be incredibly boring. This job was much more fun and interesting, with a lot of variety. We made calls all over the world, made conference calls and ship to shore calls to and from the many boats in Seattle. The old switchboards were very visual for the operator working with them, lots of black and red cords, plugged into lighted jacks on the board, with the cords crisscrossing over and around each other depending on where the call was coming in at and where the front cord was plugged into for the outgoing number.

teleoldswitchboard

For the first time in my job as a long distance operator, I noticed just how sexy the switchboard looked, at least to me, at least this day. The plugging and unplugging of the male switchboard plug into the female jack (essentially a hole) to complete a call. The crisscrossing of the cords reminded me of legs intertwined. Opening and closing of the keys to open up the call or close it reminded me of mouths, and, oh my… Answering and completely a call was sometimes called putting up a call, and that made me think of other things that are “up”… And that all was just in the first 15 minutes! My voice became husky in memory of last night and when I answered another call with “operator, may I help you”, the male customer commented on my voice, saying,

“My god, your voice, my lamp just melted!”

A little embarrassed, I tried to just laughed… and asked how I could help him. He answered by saying,

“How about meeting for me a drink.”

I told him I was sorry that I had to work. He gave me the number he was calling and then his own and said…

“Okay, but if you change your mind, you have my number”

When I closed the key to the call, I sat back and pulled my headset off. My friend, Laurie, sitting next to me, looked over and said,

“What’s wrong?”

“I just got propositioned by a customer…” I said infuriated.

“Oh, so why didn’t you take him up on it?”

I looked at her like she was nuts. We were always getting offers for one thing or another by male customers and even occasionally by women. I put my break card up to be relieved to go to the restroom and when someone came to relieve me, I went straight to a toilet stall, where I cried bitter tears. Both from the unwanted offer and from the wanted one that I didn’t get. But mostly from the frustration that I might have just screwed a really good chance of happiness by not staying with David when he asked me to stay.

Finally, I wiped away the last tear and came out of the stall, walked to the sink and looked at my face in mirror. ‘Lovely,’ I thought, ‘now I was all red and blotchy. I bent down to splash cold water on my face. I opened my purse to see what make up I had with me. I rarely wore more than eye make up and clear lip gloss, but I found some foundation and dotted that I around on my face, added a little water and some moisturizer I also found and rubbed that all over my face, especially around my eyes.

Then I put on more black eyeliner, mascara and some dark gray eye shadow. I still looked like I had been dragged through the ringer, but better than I did when I first looked in the mirror. I took my hair out of the braid so I could maybe hide behind it. One of the advantages of having long hair. I ran a brush through my hair that was still a little wet even several hours of being braided. Oh, well, it was the best I could do.

I still had 90 minutes of my shift to get through. Ninety minutes to kill. One of the my last calls was a person-to-person call to a “David Anderson”… that figures. Is everyone in the world now named David? I hadn’t noticed just how common that name was. I announced the call…

“This is a person-to-person call to David Anderson. Is he available to take the call?”

“Yes, this is David Anderson…” came the answer. I closed my key. I kept seeing my David’s face, and then double checked to make sure the call didn’t start or end in Everett. ‘My David’, who was I kidding? He was hardly my David!! Maybe David wasn’t even his real name?

When my shift was over, I hightailed it out of there and went straight to my car, ignoring my group of friends sitting the lounge area of the operator’s locker room. I usually sat around talking for a while, but tonight I was afraid I wouldn’t be able talk without thinking of David and breaking down. After I got to my car, I couldn’t decide what to do. Almost every night I went to Pier 70 or one of the other dance clubs in Seattle. There was almost always something going on somewhere in town. And usually I went with a friend or two, but tonight I sat alone in my car. Should I just go home? And do what??