Fleshbot and Crisis
Mar 16th, 2008 by Jefferson
This week’s Sex Blog Roundup at Fleshbot celebrates Steak and Blowjob Day, which just happens to have been yesterday. I was fortunate enough to savor filet mignon at the legendary Morton’s as the guest of two charming ladies of my acquaintance. The blowjobs I had delivered.
Those of you who enjoy stalking me will find me commemorating an anniversary, enduring a break up, and unsettling nerves.
Once upon a time, a kinky girl with a missing orgasm showed up at my door. A year later, Eden always knows where to find her orgasm when she needs it. Happy anniversary, dear.
Faced with the imminence of hearing three little words from another man,
Bridget decides that it’s time to move me from the BF column to BFF. In doing so, she raises the bar on ways to break up. Happy new beginnings, love.
And what does the future hold for Lynsey? Why, anything her heart and libido desires . . . though her fingernails may be chewed to nubs when the future arrives.
Speaking of nail biting, this is a trying moment for your faithful parent and pervert. You may recall my mentioning that the kids and I were planning to move. Now it seems we are moving, plans or no.
When my ex sent me packing, I was exiled to an apartment her family controls. It was vacant and she wanted me gone. As I had no other alternatives, I moved to the apartment, and continue to reside there with my children.
As longtime readers may have ascertained, my ex is . . . um, she’s . . . well, okay, I’ll say it: she’s pathologically determined to do damage to me. When we were married, I was handy as her punching bag, figuratively and literally. When we separated, she had to resort to other tactics, such as seeking full custody of the children (she lost) and taking advantage of her financial advantage to make the divorce as expensive as possible (she won), in the hope of beating me down (she lost).
Over time, her control of me has diminished. I’ve healed a good deal, and so her words and silences don’t have the same sting. She still finds strings she can pull—such as cutting off my phone service, or in disinviting me from eXmas—but these are increasingly few.
But one thing remains in her hands. Her family owns the place my children and I call home.
Her family has indicated that they want to sell the place, and I have agreed that it’s time for me to move on. However, we have disagreed on a timetable. I want to move at the end of the school year so that the children are not adversely affected. They have been pressuring me to move now, suggesting that I give custody to Lucy and stay with friends until I find a new place. I’ve argued that this is absurd and obviously detrimental to the well being of the children.
This week, I was contacted by lawyers. They have spied on the apartment, noticed the comings and goings of numerous people, and determined that I am a pornographer and running a brothel. There’s no evidence of this—as I do not, in fact, produce porn films or pimp sex workers—but this is not a fight I care to have with my ex wife and her family.
I need to move. Now.
I need money. Now.
I’m working on a place that will accommodate my family. With broker’s fees, first month’s rent and security deposit, I need five thousand dollars I don’t have. And I need it yesterday.
Folks, if you can pitch in, I’d be grateful. This blog has thousands of readers, so even a small contribution can help a good deal. Please make a contribution to onelifetaketwo@gmail.com at PayPal.
For those of you who worry on our behalf, I’ll keep you updated. I’m blessed to have a loving family and amazing friends. Stay tuned.
And thanks.