Cherie – Chapter 39 – Black In The Saddle

“The sky opens up and she whips out an umbrella and we both huddle under it just like on our very first date.”

Here we are on New Year’s Eve. I wish you all a Happy New Year. As you read this I am asleep, because I worked a 10 hour day yesterday and then went to my beloved friend James’ birthday at a lovely dive bar in Kensington beyond midnight. (Monkey Club)

I edited this piece and then spoke with my buddy Church on the phone. We decided to meet up tomorrow afternoon for a few hours.

I’ll sleep in because we’re closed for the next 2 days. I’ll edit the blog for the week at Cavanaugh’s and enjoy my half of lunch as usual.

 

Thank you all for everything. I’ll be posting a special New Years Day post tomorrow morning at 8am to give you a glimpse into what is coming in this blog in 2019.

I wish you all a healthy and happy New Year!

 

I get to Suburban Station around 3:30. She should be here any second. I walk down to the platform when the train pulls in and I see her. She smiles and walks toward me. Great thing is, I saw her last weekend too. So, there’s some continuity here. When we’re apart for three to four weeks at a time I know it’s hard for both of us.

She looks great. Her hair is still all braided into light and dark dreds and she looks sexy as hell. We walk down 18th Street towards Rittenhouse. For the moment it isn’t raining.

“How long can I keep you today?”

“I have to be on a 9:30 train tonight.”

The sky opens up and she whips out an umbrella and we both huddle under it just like on our very first date.

It’ll be another short stay for Cheri. But She stayed over last Saturday and it was glorious. The downside of a short stay for Cherie is that she’s here, we do greatest hits and then she’s gone. The upside for me is that we do greatest hits and then she’s gone.

Now don’t get me wrong, I love Cherie very much. She’s a wonderful girl. But let’s be honest,  I think most men would agree that if they could have their alone time to do whatever they want, then a hot girl on the right side of thirty stopped by their house for a few hours of fun, and then simply left and you didn’t have to spend one thin dime on them, you’d totally love it. It’s all the kissing, and chatting, and holding and mind bending sex, and then she’s gone. It would be like you could bang Cinderella, and at midnight she turns into a pizza and a six-pack. A dream come true!

We get back to the house and we run the program. If we had gone somewhere and did something, or saw something, I’d write all about it. You know I would, but with her limited schedule she can only see me when she can see me. So we get down to business to fill her burning desire. I must feed the beast. And feed her I do, again and again.

Alas, Phicklephilly is a dating blog, not a sex blog. Maybe I should write a separate erotic blog, and call it La Petite Mort, and write a bunch of graphic sex stories. You could read the date stuff here and then link over to the other blog for the juicy stuff.

Stay tuned…

I love being in bed with Cherie. Her skin is so soft. Her body is absolutely beautiful. Just luscious curves of sleek brown flesh.

Our brief repose is wonderful. I’ll take her to the train, and then come home and have a vodka club and a cigarette. Just basking in the afterglow of my afternoon with my Cherie. Wondering when next I’ll see my lovely girl.

 

 

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Tales of Rock – Marilyn Manson Has Too Many Sex Rules

Marilyn Manson might be the wildest rocker in the business. Looking like Jared Leto having a psychotic break during the filming of Suicide Squad 2 and acting like an Ozzy Osbourne who can remember how to be metal, you can only imagine how the sex is, right? Very bureaucratic, it turns out.

Manson likes his rules, particularly when they concern boning, or “splicing the Cthulhu with two backs.” If you want to get down to goth business with him, for instance, the lights have to be off. Not because he thrives in darkness and shit, mind, but because he’s really shy.

It’s hard for Manson to concentrate, which is why he also only has sex while keeping his underwear around his ankles, in case he needs to flee the room. Makes sense, it’s really hard to find black silk in total darkness.

Manson’s peccadillos wouldn’t be such an issue for his queens of the dead if they didn’t come up so frequently. The minimum number of times per day he has to engage in “sexual congress” is five, with ten being the ideal goal. So imagine having to punch in five times a day, waiting for Manson to squeeze out of seven layers of latex, and then stumbling around in the dark, knowing that if you accidentally make his underoos slip off, the whole carnival starts all over again. Add an antique abortionist chair covered with a bear rug, which is Manson’s favorite sex surface, and now you know what it’s like making love to the goth supreme: like trying to play an Edgar Allan Poe board game with a 100-page rulebook and a separate pamphlet full of footnotes.

 

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Molly – Hot Mess

I worked with a woman who had a daughter who would regularly stop into work and talk with me about music. She seemed cute and nerdy, which is just one of my many  types. After months of dreaming about dating her I took a shot and finally asked her out. I was amazed when she said “Sure!”

I wanted to make a great first impression with this girl. Since I felt I knew her music tastes a bit, I plunked down $200 for some tickets to see a band she loved. She was over the moon when I told her about them. Unfortunately, the date didn’t go as planned.

6:00pm – We stop at a coffee place I picked and have a few drinks. After talking for 15 minutes, I noticed she seemed a bit uncomfortable. When I asked why, she commented that the place seemed “too white” for her. Note: We are both white.

7:00pm – We arrive and suddenly have to meet up with some of her friends. I hadn’t been told this was the plan prior to arriving at the venue. We find the table where her friends are located and she proceeds to talk with them without introducing me to any of them. I sit at the table for the next hour, ignored until her friends decide to leave.

8:15pm – Molly decides the show is boring, and she wants to leave. She asks the waiter for the check. When it arrives, she hands it over to me and says “Sorry, I have no money.” The check includes drinks from some of her friends. I point this out. She says “Oh, wow. They must have forgotten! You can pay it and I’ll have them pay you back.”

To avoid a scene, I pay the tab.

8:30pm – My date wants to find a place to talk. I say to myself “OK, maybe she’s changing things up here because things were kind of slow at the concert.” I give her another chance and take her where she wants to go.

9:00pm – She directs us to a corner bar that has no signage on the outside and looks rather run down. When we walk in I noticed there is a hole in the wall and the floors look like they haven’t been cleaned in a decade. She runs to the bar where a group of guys are and screams “What’s up faggots!”. They all greet her with hugs. One of them picks her up and lifts her, while I stand there awkwardly watching.

After standing there for a few minutes, she decides to find a place to sit where her guy friends are. I’m still standing because there is no room at the bar. She doesn’t even look at me, and for all anybody knows, I just walked in behind this girl and don’t know her at all.

9:15pm – My “date” finally realizes I’m just awkwardly standing there. She tells me to pull up a chair. I find one and do so. We start to chat a bit. She tells me who all the guys at the bar are, and details how she has had a relationship with almost all of them.

9:30pm – I’m hanging by a thread. A new bartender walks in and hugs my date. I’m thinking how this may be the last straw. But she turns to me and says “This is my Cousin!”. Ahh!! OK. That’s fine then. It’s family, not so awkward. We continue talking 1 on 1 and we’re actually starting to break the ice a bit.

10:00pm – I notice that she’s watching her cousin intently as he is serving drinks. Every once in a while he stops over and chats a bit. On about the 4th visit as he walks away, she looks right at his ass and says “If you weren’t my cousin, I would so take that shit!”.

I’m officially done after that statement. I tell her I need to get home. She can either come with me or stay. Thankfully she decided she would stay. Since she didn’t have any money, I’m not sure how she handled the bill after I left. Don’t know. Don’t care. One more hot mess avoided.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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Phicklephilly Reaches 50,000 Views!

Oh my God!

We did it!

After two and a half years and 942 blog posts I have miraculously reached 50,000 views on phicklephilly!!!

This is the best Christmas gift that I could have imagined this holiday season.

When I started this I never thought it would reach such heights.  I didn’t even know what I was doing. I just wanted to create again after not writing for over 10 years.

I was inspired by a lovely, charming waitress and a guy I worked with who said I should write about all of the ladies in my life.

It started out once a week on Mondays. I wrote about a waitress I was infatuated with at the time. (See: Maria – Amor En Vano)

Maria has become my muse and the ongoing inspiration for this blog.

The best part of that relationship is that we’re friends but rarely hang out. There’s no romantic connection and that’s what keeps it healthy. I could never get involved with her because we live in two different worlds.

When I see Maria, it’s the very best of Maria. I don’t ever experience the other aspects of her life. I’m sure they are extremely challenging for my muse. Life is complicated and confounding to my muse as she navigates the minefield of her life in the service industry and her romantic entanglements.

She has limitless value to me, but I never experience the darker aspects of her life.

It may seem one-sided but that’s how it’s best suited for our current relationship. She lives her life and I live mine. Completely different. I never see her struggles. I only hear about them.

Granted, I’m always available to help her in any way I can and I’m willing to help her in any way I can.

But for the most part when I see her it’s “Greatest Hits.”

 

I’ll be spending Christmas day going through all of my contacts to try to find her a marketing gig at an agency somewhere in the city.

I want to do it. I want my muse to be happy and successful. She’s been through too much. I have very little invested in her. But her presence has been the trigger that ignited this blog so I must honor her.

Maria needs to do nothing.

The train that is phicklephilly is already rolling down the track and has been for the last two years. (27,000 visitors and 50,000 views!)

She’s my inspiration! I have to help her!

The beauty of all of this is for once the muse doesn’t become the girlfriend. That’s where the problems always start.

I’m in a better place than I’ve ever been and my creative work continues to flourish. Whatever was inspired two years ago worked!

 

I remember when I created the first skeleton of phicklephilly I had no clue what I was doing or where I was going. I knew I had to start dating again, (Ugh) and knew I needed content.

I created the blog and that was a huge first step. But actually, that’s the easy part.

You can sign up for any writing site on the internet and they’ll pretty much effortlessly walk you through it.

What it really comes down to after that is up to you.

I created phicklephilly in July of 2016.

I never wrote a word until September.

The whole summer went by with me having a blog and not doing anything about it. Pretty much a bit more of what I’d done for the last 10 years.

Nothing.

I asked myself, “Is this going to be another thing you talk about with people you know at lunch and over drinks and never do?

I paused and thought about Maria. A beautiful, sweet woman from humble beginnings like myself, that was self-made. A woman who told herself that she was determined to get her marketing degree and rise above her current vocation.

Am I going to write and create again, or am I just going to talk about it over beers with a bunch of people and never do it?

That would be easy and dumb.

I know people who are far better than me in regard to the written word.

I discussed what I was going to do. They said I had inspired them to write again too.

Here’s the difference.

They are stuck in their lives and will NEVER take pen to paper ever again.

That’s fine. It has no effect on my life. But I needed to evolve and start creating again. I’ve done art. I’ve done music. Writing should be easy if I just put my mind to it.

Anyone who is reading this who writes knows it’s not easy.

You have to find your space and be alone and bang out a 1000 words about whatever. Fuck writers block. You just have to be alone and create. You do it every day and crank out the art.

Like a ballerina, she takes classes every day. My father once said, if you want to be a painter, go paint every day. Well I like to create and I write everyday.

I was chatting with my sister Gabrielle at the holiday party on Sunday, and I was telling her about what’s coming out in 2019.

“How do you have the time to come up with so much material and stories to have it come out everyday, twice a day?”

“I like to work and be busy, but in my down time instead of sitting around or blowing money doing anything else, I write. When I’m off I edit or create. It’s not hard if you put your mind to it.”

Nothing’s hard if you put your mind to it.

That’s how everything has been accomplished in the world.

Most people just go to work and then do a bunch of other things that don’t evolve them and they wonder why they’re going nowhere or attach themselves to things they think will make them happy but it’s all a fail.

Put something on Earth that wasn’t here before you got here.

Tell your story.

If you’re serious you’ll do it.

If you want my help. I’ll help you.

Everybody needs a mentor.

Me included.

 

Happy Holidays! Thank you one and all for all the views and comments and follows. phicklephilly has grown beyond anything I could have imagined.

 

Thank you, Maria for your inspiration!

 

I’m going to try to write this damn thing until the day I die.

 

I hope you all enjoy all of the new aspects I’ve added in 2019.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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Shayada – Sunday Girl

I had been texting Shayada since she got back from her wellness retreat. I was trying to set up a time when we could hang out. She’s only available on weekends, and I work all weekend. Saturday, 11-5 and Sunday, 11-4. I offered up time after work and she said Sunday would probably be better. I told her that would be great. She said she would let me know.

I know Shayada is just looking for new friends and I’m fine with that. I like meeting new people and her being a parent and an author is a good match. She owns her own business and soon so will I. She’s visited the salon and the gym so she knows I’m legit. I need to hang out with people of like mind that are entrepreneurial like myself.

I’m keeping this one completely platonic. I’m sure she’ll want that too. So I’m all for hanging out with her when she says that it could happen, and is also flexible with my schedule.

But I’ve been texting my girlfriend Cherie and she says she wants to come down on Sunday around 5pm for a few hours. So when I get the text Sunday from Shayada to ask what I want to do when she comes to the city, I tell her my friend is going through some marital problems with his wife and really needs my help, so I have to spend time with him. (Bold faced lie)

If you tell people you can’t hang out with them because you’re helping a friend in need it creates the illusion that you are a good person. They’ll be cool with letting you off the hook, and may even like you more the next time they see you because you’re such a selfless, “good person.”

So I’ll see if I can catch up with Shayada next time!

 

 

 

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday, Tuesday & Wednesday at 9am EST.

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