My Life Being Bullied

I started to write down the names of all the people who have bullied me, both physically and psychologically, in my life and I realize that I could write forever about those experiences. It all started when I was a very little boy. I was afraid to fight back when I was harassed and soon everyone had my number. Even though I was popular and a good athlete bullies would find me and pick up on my vulnerability.


So, eventually at school, in the playground, at a party or the movies, anywhere at all, a bully would test me and see that I would not stand up for myself. So, besides the shame and disgrace I felt then I would have to constantly be fearful of being around that guy. Hyper vigilance and constant anxiety became the cornerstones of my existence.


I am now 65 years old and things have not changed except the ages of the people who test me to see if I will become their victim. I can still be easily intimidated if a bully knows what to say or do to get in my head.


I have used so much mental energy torturing myself because of the continual shame and repulsion I have felt that even after being in therapy, taking medicine, engaging in cognitive behavior therapy, and sharing my innermost thoughts about my terribly damaged ego and lack of self esteem I cannot seem to get any lasting relief.

I am constantly in fear of events occurring that I cannot control but feel I must react to..Threats. Even irrational ones. It does not matter. A neighbor playing loud music, a dog barking nearby that is creating a disturbance, a bully in the street I see taking advantage of someone who cannot defend themselves, or any other situation where I feel that I will have to stand up and walk through the wall of fear to confront the bully behind the disturbance..


I am either afraid to act and do nothing and afterward will torture myself for cowardliness. Or, I face the fear and confront a person I think is a bully. Very often for the wrong reasons. I often end up not accomplishing my objective of resolving the problem but only exacerbate it. Sometimes, I do solve my perception of a bullying problem only to have another similar situation quickly appear.


Long ago I learned to face fear even if it is not justified. I just desperately need the release of facing the fear that I could not face when I was a little boy. I learned how to step into the mouth of terror often for the wrong reasons and then sometimes suffer terrible consequences. There is no winning . The aftermath is still feeling bullied by needing to correct a situation I should have never created.The victory can only be achieved in my mind. Self acceptance is my eternal quest.



It turns out that many of my actions were not about helping the victim, whether the victim is myself or another person but about resolving something that I should have resolved internally. Sometimes it is not bullying, it is my bullied personality creating or distorting a problem. If I were not so sensitized to any situation that could upset my delicate anti-bullying equilibrium I would filter out real situations from ones that I just blew up incorrectly.


It's a.painful life being bullied or being a victim.

Banging My High School Girlfriends Mother

My high school girlfriends mother was the hottest hunk of refined white, sexy trash you could imagine. She had red hair, big tits and a beautiful round ass. I fantasized about her endlessly as I banged her very good looking daughter. She was the original Mrs Robinson. She always wore high heels, flimsy skirts and had those perfect arms ala Marilyn Monroe. which swung from her shoulders. At about 5'7" tall and at the age of 34 she was the ultimate bomb to me  eighteen years old at the time and boiling with lust. I had always had this thing for older women and she was the dream.

Her husband was a long distance tuck driver who was gone many nights. Sometimes, I would come over on the pretense of seeing her daughter even when I knew her daughter would not be home. My Mrs. Robinson would sit at the kitchen table smoking cigarettes in a scanty and barely respectable house coat. She and I would often play gin rummy.

One of those times she mentioned that her old man was going to be gone for a few days and that her daughter was sleeping out. She looked up at me to gage my reaction.

Obviously, she had thoughts about me too. I was a rugged 6'3", 220 lb. hunk of muscle who was the star of the high school football team. I was all man all the way with a big cock included in the package.
It seemed every woman young and old was hot for me but I had had very little real passionate sex, just lots of necking and petting with some occasional intercourse that never felt right. Not that I knew what right was. until that night.

I yelled gin and Mrs. Robinson said good job. She then said she was bored and didn't want to play anymore. She said she had a much better idea.  She  awaited my response to that remark. I knew that meant she wanted me. I felt my cock blow up as I looked squarely in her eyes.

We were both thinking the same thing when suddenly she asked "Can you handle a real woman?" I said "Try me" She smiled and sucked in a last drag of her cigarette as she opened the buttons on my hairy chest. She grabbed my thigh and pushed her hand onto my hard cock. I almost exploded in my pants but held on. I stood up and my iron dick stuck out as she gazed at it..

She stood up, licked her lips, and practically dragged me into the bedroom. She was like a hungry beast that found a delicious animal to ravage. She pushed me onto the mattress and ripped off her panties without bothering to take off the rest. . She went down on me and sucked oh so hard on my throbbing cock. Then she mounted me and my erection was easily sucked into her huge, dripping pussy. She started humping me wildly with total abandon. She screamed several  times in ecstasy and after she shot her first very wet load I shot my giant sized load also. Then, we did it again with me on top of her. The session went on for an about an hour

When we were done she looked in my eyes while kissing my face softly. "You can never tell anyone about this" "Ever" I never did. Until now. It is 50 years later.

Boy Toy Goes Lymph-Viagra Fails

Here I am at Dunkin Donuts blogging about my crazed, sad life. You see, just a few days ago l was living the life of luxury one would expect from a boy toy. I was with my older but glamorous sugar mama eating dinner at the fanciest restaurants, getting pedicures, going to plays. The whole nine yards. In return, I spent my time with her, in large part, enjoying our bodies locked together in the same  passion and bliss we have seemingly had forever.

Then, it was time to take her back to airport so she could get back to her real other life. I am merely filler as much as she says she loves me which she has proven over and over. However, not enough to throw in the towel on the high life and become a slave to my neediness and neurosis.

It was just a few weeks ago that I went off to Arizona with my mamas blessing to pursue an old relationship. Things were all set for me to find a 24/7 mama who I had had a relationship with years before.

When the moment of truth came the stinking Viagra would not work. My ticket to ride into this persons life was through a great sexual experience as we had had in the past and all I had to offer was a lymph dick, a still  talented tongue and a bunch of excuses about how the Viagra didn't work because of all the food and drink that had absorbed it's potency. It was a lame excuse. I needed my dick

 I flew home shortly thereafter and stayed in the house clinically depressed for several days. My sugar mama said to see a shrink and she would pay. I did.. He gave me a strong anti-depressant and a prescription that I actually filled for a long term SSRI 
 medicine for OCD and depression.

Here is hoping 

Old Love Junkie

 There we were. Two 63 year old adults wrestling around on her sofa like high school kids. Me, trying for weeks to get in her pants. She, holding me off continuously insisting that necking and petting was all we would ever do. But, boy it was hot. Hot kisses, hot touching all over. So hot that she agreed to go in the other room and change into something flimsier and easier for me to get at.

 I still all my clothes on as she left the room. The Viagra I had taken earlier, just in case, had completely kicked in and I had a big, hard rod that a 16 year old would envy. She and I had been toying around for 6 weeks with hot kisses but with clothes on.

 I decided that I would go all in as I sat waiting for her to return. So, I quickly whipped off my clothes except for my underwear. She came back to see me lying on the sofa with socks and a pair of black underwear which was struggling to hold in my giant dick. Her eyes lit up and her jaw dropped as she stared at me. "Whats this"/ she asked. "I didn't tell you to take off your clothes. "I thought it was time" I shot back. Then, I grabbed her hand and put it on my hungry, elongated cock. She squeezed it and starting to stroke it as I furiously stuck my hand down her pants. I felt that moist, sweet, hot pussy and I too started to stroke. She got into it instantly. All her resistance evaporated.

 The rest was academic.  We ripped the rest of our clothes off and we made love like jungle animals.  The love we made was so hot and passionate for so long that I thought we would swallow up each others bodies. The lovemaking was endless and it was perfect. Here I was. The guy who she insisted she only wanted to be friends with and I had gotten to her soul. She looked at me after she had come the third time. She saw me with different eyes now. "You broke me" she muttered as I smiled widely. "I know" "Are you proud of yourself? she asked. "Yes" I answered honestly. Thrilled was a better word. Then, although I couldn't understand her reasoning she sent me home. She said she had to be alone to think about all that had happened.

Now, I am sitting at Starbucks alone. She has only seen me a few times since that night which was about a month ago. She has avoided being alone with me again. The harder I tried to get her under my seductive power the more she struggled to not get intimate again. Then as I got more irritated she started to realize that everything with me was about the chase and the kill. She became very disinterested quickly.

Last night, she blew me off probably for the final time. She told me no, no, no. She would not see me again.
 So, back to match.com and loneliness, and driving my cab around and around wishing I could start gambling compulsively again to relieve the misery and loneliness that is my life.

Rich Incognito for Chicago Bears Coach

What are the Score's listener ratings since the Chicago Bears tragic loss to Green Bay on Sunday? I would like to know the answer. So, Score, with all your savage, vicious, taunting of coach Marc Trestman, Jay Cutler and the entire Bears organization wouldn't you rather the Bears kept losing so your ratings can stay high?. Every Bear loss is more advertising dollars in the pockets of the Score pigs.

 The two tomato cans who are the most full of shit are Doug Buffone. Yeah, you Dougie and you  O'Bradobitch. Isn't it nice to get your old nasty rocks off screaming and yelling in idiotic tantrums after each Bear loss. Meanwhile, you bust outs both have shit for brains in the business world, and you would have nothing at all to do if the Bears started winning. You need to be on the attack or who would. listen to a couple of broken down loudmouths?  

 I  heard only soft, non-confrontational questions being asked of Trestman at his news conference. He was not attacked nor was he interrupted when he spoke. That is because the taunting, bullying reporters are not so brave face to face. Back when Ditka was the coach all the news people and other Chicago media people were intimidated by DA Coach. They did not have the balls to ask hard questions to his face for fear Iron Mike would break their noses if they got him angry.

Remember folks. It is all about the money. The more the Bears keep losing  the more you fans scream in legitimate pain. And, the more money you are all worth to the Score and the newspapers. Your fury lines their pockets and everyone knows that fact except most of you Bear fans or should I say Bear suckers. You are being played by the reporters and the advertisers who support them.

I think Rich Incognito should be the Chicago Bears new head coach or put in some position where he must deal with reporters. How about director of PR?

The Bears would have to draft a hold harmless document and then turn him loose on the Chicago media bullies. I would love to see that.