Fear And Loathing

First, for Bacall and I, our daughter and our three grandkids, 2017 is looking a lot brighter than the last 8 years. We are hopeful. Giving people the rhetoric of hope, lifting them with mere words, is just not the same as delivering results. We are hopeful Trump will find the Reset button and reverse the myriad of stifling regulations made in the last 8 years. We are hopeful Congress will wake up and do their job and we can return to The Rule Of Law.

Erica recently posted some of the usual pedestrian progressive vitriol lightly veiled in humor taking me to task for my remarks suggesting she cut out her whining over Trump. Going back a few weeks, I said what I wanted to say then removed the posts after a week or so. She could not leave it alone. I will not get in the gutter with her. It’s senseless. It’s like playing chess with a pigeon. She is not going to change her mind. Sir Francis Bacon wrote many years ago: “People prefer to believe what they prefer to be true.” All the facts in the world will not dissuade some people from a fixed belief. She and her friends will rail against anyone not of their faith. It’s not Trump, it’s anyone that is not liberal.

I must say that her incest suggestions are particularly egregious. That’s really getting in the gutter.

It’s not her fault. She came to her liberal orthodoxy from her parents and their friends. I call it environment liberalism. I got my conservation foundation from my father, a small businessman, one who signed paychecks. She grew up the entertainment world, which has always been populated by the progressives. SoCal is not known as La La Land for no reason. Her father could have been an academic or in civil service, two other fields where dissenting views, no matter how well reasoned or empirical, are not welcome. They live in a fantasy world.

To all the buttercups, snowflakes, etc. I know you will do your best to make life disagreeable for those of my faith. If you must screw your face into a scowl for the next four years and be mean, petty and abusive, well nothing I can do about it. Let’s all have a good thought that Erica will not turn her pretty face into something like this.

We could all do with less fear and loathing. Hate is a one mean bitch. 

Signed Profoundly Deplorable

It’s been over a week since I wrote this and hate is flowing like molten lava. 
The left is trying to turn the whole country into a liberal safe space — safe for them, dangerous for anyone who disagrees with them. Fasten your seat belts, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

The Santa Spoon

For years, we heathens, erroneously believed The 12 Days Of Christmas preceded Christmas. We celebrated by giving each other pops with our one-of-a-kind hand painted Santa Spoon. One pop for each day. Well, two pops the first day and four on the third day just to make it more interesting. 

The spoon is hand carved Arkansas Cherry. A dear friend of Bacall’s made it for us. He made us a lot of toys. The spoon side is lightly dished. Not worth a damn for cooking, but it cups a bottom great. Bill died of stomach cancer before his time. He is missed. It’s heavy and has more thud than sting. When you get up to about 8 licks with it, you are ready for it to end. 

That’s the history. Only a few years ago we learned that The 12 Days really start on Christmas. So Bacall changed our celebration to Red Panty and Red Paddle Days for the days before Christmas and then the spoon is used for The 12 Days. Got that? It’s 24 days of paddling.

The spoon at our old home

 The spoon at our current home

Bacall puts the spoon in action on a Christmas visitor

Red Panty Days These are mostly all about and for Bacall. She loves being padded in panties and she has a large drawer of play panties. I have some panties also and a few are red. The other day I put on a pair and asked her to guess what color I had on. She guessed right and she got really giddy putting the red paddle to me after I had paddled her. We lay on the bed embracing and she remembered it was our anniversary. It’s not a big deal for us and we often forget. We decided that we should take some more pops to commemorate the date and so we did. You can guess what happened afterwards.

No dinner out, no presents, but a memorable day.


I have lusted after this woman for years.

Her screen debut was in 1977 in Peter Bogdanovich’s The Last Picture Show. I love that movie. Ben Johnson was a standout. I also enjoyed the sequel Texasville. [It’s difficult to locate now]

There was racy nude scene (for 1977) that shows Cybill stripping in an initiation. I like it because she is wearing a girdle, de rigeur for 1951, the period of the movie. Nothing like a girdle on a girl who does not need one.

Would have loved to hear a paddle smacking her girdled bottom

Perky B’s

Red Panties For Christmas

Wednesday Bacall got out all of her red panties, seven of them and laid them on the bed. She said she was having difficulty get in the spirit and thought if I spanked her in red panties every day, it would be helpful. The things I have to do.

The first three days I used the red paddle on her.

This morning I had her laying face down on the couch while I brought down my belt on her red panties.

Maybe tomorrow the Santa spoon?

Your Most Memorable Adult Spanking

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A reader suggested we try an interactive post. He is asking you tell us a little about your most memorable adult spanking and why it’s memorable to you.

I am asking that if you post anonymously, that you sign your post with some name, any name.

Come on take a minute and share your most memorable adult spanking with the other readers.