'Man up' and some thoughts on sex, oh, and a weird illness

I had a humorous experience at work today. I know, I know, not a normal occurence in good 'ol Auschwitz, but it happened nevertheless. I was helping one of the civilians do an oil change, and the air filter was sitting on the hood. I was getting ready to crawl under the front end of the truck to grease the front end, when someone jacked up the rear end of the truck, sending the air filter flying. Into my back. I screamed, startled. Nevermind the fact that the squadron commander was in the shop, and no doubt heard me scream. I get the chorus of, 'are you ok?' from almost everyone, when Kermit walks up and demands to know why I screamed like a girl. My answer? The air filter hit me in the back, and because I AM a girl. His response? 'You need to man up next time.' And he walked away. I resisted the urge to say something about growing bigger balls next time, which is probably a good thing. Anyways, I thought the whole thing was a bit funny, and I thought I'd share.

Sex. You know, there are times when it strikes me as hilarious, some of the things that folks find erotic. Take for instance Pelly, named changed of course, a guy I went to high school with. Pelly had a foot fetish. Pelly would follow girls around school because he thought they had cute feet. God forbid a girl wear sandals!!!!! Pelly was in hog heaven then. The really amusing part is that Pelly wasn't your normal looking, run of the mill weirdo. Nope, downright all-American looking guy. Blonde hair, blue eyes, ended up in the Marines(ok, can't help the choice of branch, I am baised, I'm Air Force, ok?).
I was reading a story about a girl that gets turned on by getting a tattoo. And I got to thinking about it, since I have gone under the tattoo gun 6 times. Ok, once the sting of the gun is gone, and that rush of adrenaline kicks in(those who have been tattooed will know what I mean), I can see where the turn on comes in to play. But not while I'm being inked. Now, on a bit of a side note, I will have to tell you that Blonde and I went and got tats one night, and the guy that did hers was carressing her foot, and grinning at her, as he is tattooing her leg. She was grossed out, and I was almost rolling in the floor from laughter. I thought it was hysterical. Anyhow, I digress. My exhusband, Psycho, absolutely LOVED it when I did this impression of Allison Hanagan(spelling is probably shot, sorry) from American Pie, "WHat's my name, bitch?!!?!" "Louder!".....looking back, I have no clue how I did it without cracking up. Hell, I probably did laugh like a loon about it. But it did it for him. While these things crack me up as funny or a bit outlandish, I look at myself, and think I must be a freak. My weird erotic bit? Pain. Yes, I am a masochist. Or so the term is defined, I think. Maybe I spelled it wrong. I dig pain, at any rate. I'm weird, I know. One of the guys I worked with in Iraq pulled my hair, trying to get my attention, and well, I guess I growled at him.....he was a bit surprised. Well, after 4 months of sex with your hand, you're bound to react when stimulus comes from somewhere else, right?!?!!? Yea......well, that narrowed it down for the guys I worked with, about my um, tendencies.....I like to be bitten. Hard. Like Dracula-style. yea..........ok, I need to change subjects.....

My weird illness. This has been happening to me here lately, and I can't come up with a reasonable answer for why it's happening. I have been getting car-sick, while riding shotgun in my new car, with Ziggy driving. Now, it's not Ziggy's driving, cause Ziggy doesn't drive like a maniac. Am I pregnant? Highly unlikely, I am on birth control. Could I have eaten something to make me sick? Possibly, but not likely, as I am car sick without having eaten before I got in the car. Am I mysteriously allergic to riding shotgun in my car? This is my best guess, although a very far-fetched one. I can't sit up straight, can't watch anything go by, can't turn around to talk to MinZiggy in his car seat, nothing. Except hunch over on the door, hold on, close my eyes and try not to hurl through the 30 mile drive either to or from work. I ahev got to figure out what is doing this to me.....