With style…

Long time no see.
I missed you all, and to prove that, today’s topic is hair.

Along the ages, Man has been more or less aware of its importance and to how that made him appear to others.
It has been a sign of richness, social and political importance, and even a sign of disease.
But this would be a too noble cause to discuss here, so instead we are just going to discuss on particular kind of hair… Pubic hair.
Yes I know, we all been there.
And has its head counterpart, it too suffered a lot of transformations through time.
From jungle, to baby smooth, it has seen it all.
For me, it depend on the owner of the hair. And I’m not afraid to admit it, it can go from bushy to trimmed, to mortified, to completely shaved, being my least favorite the mortified one. Let’s face it, who wants to go down there and find a heart or bunny? That just makes me sick (of course I’ll do her anyway, but that’s beside the point).

The pubs can say a lot about the owners personality.
Let’s take the shaved style. She’s probably a clean freak, or makes too much effort on pleasing others. She just uses underwear.
On the other hand we get the trimmed ones, that are independent, and have a keen sense of fashion, and know exactly where they want to go. Racy or no underwear is their style.
Last but not least we have the ever so popular bushy style. She is some one who takes tradition into account and does not care what other people say. They are also independent and a bit lazy. They use regular or no underwear.
Of course, our “study” only applys to “regular” people. We leave behind, to my regret, SM and other depravities of life, but not for long

So what kind of style are you? Shaved, trimmed or bushed?
Come on, don’t be shy, we have prizes for the more outrageous ones…

Mohebius

Tainted Love

I see Jeanine at a distance, the current source of my obsession as Rose had been before.

As I follow her through the nightly mist my heart beats stronger, willing to make hers mine. I stroll impatiently through these back alley streets hypnotized, even while covered in the cloth of indistinctiveness laid by the moon upon night travelers, such beauty remains unaffected. (…)

Crime and Punishment.

“Go at once, this very minute, stand at the cross-roads, bow down, first kiss the earth which you have defiled, and then bow down to all the world and say to all men aloud, ‘I am a murderer!’ Then God will send you life again. Will you go, will you go?”

Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment, Ch. 30

On a more serious note, today we’ll speak about something that happened some time ago.
To protect the innocent (although none of them are) the names will be changed, and yes, this is based on a true story. (…)

Changes…

To Spit or To Swallow, that is the question.
“Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them.”

William Shakespeare – Hamlet

And so we begin our fair journey into the town of Verona, where the fair ladies are judged upon a whim of a man.
On our fair town there were two main currents of thought, the spitters and the swallowers. This separation was not only one of thought but also physical, as the two “Families” did not get along.
A less fortunate person could say that it was good enough that a woman would allow the product of one’s pleasure to be spilled within her, but this was an issue greater than that. This was a matter of principle.
Our story revolves around a young couple, a boy and a girl, that for the sake of argument we’ll call them Sir Ferdinand and Lady Marion.

He was a educated young man who knew what he wanted, and she was, lets say, a gifted young woman, but to the dismay of all, she was part of the spitters “family”.
They met at a brazilian style “suruba” and became fond of each other. They started meeting in secrecy because of the relations between the two “families”.
In public they were forced to show hate for each other but in private everything was allowed. Well not everything because of the way they were raised, when she used the tribute that God have give her, her velvet tongue, when the special moment came, she would pull it off and if anything got into her mouth, she would spit it on to the drapes…
A long and hard (especially hard) way they went, defying the family traditions. She was scared to abandon all that she’d ever known, but his calming words performed miracles of such great magnitude as her suction talents: “heed me, my dear, for one day, when your heart is ripe, that gag reflex will be gone for good”. She took comfort in his words, and showed him a couple of tricks that made his mind trip deeper than ever before.

Their relation grew, and so did their lust… And on a full moon night, he said “my love, i think we are ready for joining both our “families” “. She knew what he meant, swallow. And so, after a long time of training, and a couple of drapes after, she was ready to try it. After some tongue work, Sir Ferdinand was ready to arrive in paradise, and so violently he came, as he had never come before. She thought she would drown, as it wouldn’t stop, but then, as a miracle, her throat opened up and allowed everything in. She was in shock, but there was no turning back, she was now a true swallower…

Mohebius, Charoum & Metal Storm

A Day in Paradise.

Once upon a time there was Sara. Sara could easily be considered a sexy person who’s style probably would not appeal to all.

All her friends knew her as a naked large breasted drunken satanic priestess with tattoos and piercings that drives a sports car and once was pulled over by the police and was forced to endure a gang bang by the whole police headquarters while performing a black mass with a 21″ strap-on, making the Police chief her bitch…

From that event a beautiful friendship was born that has endured to this day. Boy, that was a good strap-on, she hasn’t used another ever since. She also took a vow. She would never wash it. Everybody knows that washing strap-ons ruins their flavor.

Which bring us to her day job, the candy store. Where she fulfill her dream of selling candy to children, and their parents of course.

She had all the flavors you could think, but the most sought out one was the ‘large black dildo on steroids with nutra sweet’. That was popular with the young children and divorced women that joined her congregation alike…

The maintenance and raw material for the production of such successful candy was guaranteed by her night job. Anal fisting masochist mistress. She could also keep her sweet dildo at use. And she did. She would drive it deeply and harshly through any ass as no one could. Obviously such perfectly toned activity could only be carried out by a professional so in touch with its tools. Sara was the best at it.

The fame for both her jobs grew larger and larger. It even got to the point where her candy customers would ask for a glimpse of her strap-on to drool, and her nightly customers would ask for candy, shoved in all the wrong places of course, while drooling, but in this case the drooling was because they’re mouth was filed with the end all be all of dildos, giving them the taste they were anxiously awaiting for.

Unsatisfied customers or event critics were dealt with in a most delightful way. People that even thought about questioning Sara’s methods or services was instantaneously bitch slapped into reason. Afterwards they were sent to the deepest most dark corners of Sara’s dungeon, to be later on reborn as eternal sex slaves and disciples, showing nothing but utmost devotion and pain tolerance. Constipations were instantaneously cured by the conversion process and both Prince Albert and Princess Albertina were commonly known to appear.

And then there was Alice. She lived in her wonderland, with vanishing cats, rabbits with hats and queens with large fury pussys. What she liked most about her wonderland was the Egg that she always tried to fit into her behind without breaking. This activity brought her serious health problems as her rectum became injured by all the egg shells that pierced it. She had to stop shitting for a while, which explains why she always talked crap.

Eventually she meet Sara. She was the best thing that ever happened to her, after the discovery of nicely shaved pubs, and ball gags.

Her rectal injury almost took her life when the king tried to fuck her ass and got with his dick all scratched by the egg shells. The queen noticed the king’s fucked-up dick and tried to have her head. By head I obviously mean, suck her strap-on that unfortunately was covered with rusty tetanus infected razor blades.

When all seamed lost Alice managed escape her wonderland by stop doing drugs. All was accomplished with the help of Sara, that stuck her strap-on into Alice’s throat for about a week. This way she had no choice but to use her nose only to breathe.

And both lived happily ever after as a lesbian, fist fucking, lollipop sucking, cherry licking, waxed nipples, satanic priestesses that did black masses on Sunday afternoons, dynamic duo.

Mohebius & Metal Storm

The Longest Chimera

This title was not chosen by chance, but by deep consideration. I will not write about my opinion of the band “Chimaira” which I do hold in dear respect (Rock on). This post is about the longest chimera of them all, Life. No, I’m not insane (at least not completely) I will not try to explain the intricacies, mysteries or solutions to one’s life. I am going to talk about friendship.

As all journeys need companions so does life. I cannot imagine enduring such a voyage, the single most difficult test laid upon us all, by myself. I confess that I am nothing by my own. I love spending whole evenings by myself, but while finding strength in the knowledge that there are people which I can rely on.

All this did not come in vain, it is not a simple collection of ideas, it has a reason. You see, I lost one of my dearest friends, if not my dearest friend, not long ago. I lost him not by fatality, not due to foul play but by choice. Few things in my whole life where so hard to surpass.

Ever since I knew him, I kept facing different challenges in my life. Some were hard to accomplish, some were easily conquered but all contributed in some manner to my evolution as a person. I kept meeting different people, some more educated, some mode sophisticated but all giving me the opportunity to learn and evolve with them too. I never imagined that while I just grew up I would come to find most of my friend’s behavior and ideology intolerable.

I’m not an intolerant person. I am not someone who’s idea must prevail above all. My friend simply did not change. At least not in the same way I did. I matured along the years and ten years passed since I first knew him. I saddens me to have to come to the conclusion that he still acts like a 16 year old and shares the same cultural background as one too. I am not one to discuss which of our personalities is better or worst, my point is we grew incompatible.

A series of unfortunate events led me to notice this but ignored it as it could simply be a misconception on my part, maybe I was being to harsh on him. The last drop was a simple “just for fun” argument turned sour, during the whole conversation I could only think “My god, are you a complete moron?” and everything he said could be effortlessly translated into “Yes I am, how come you never noticed?”.

And I never really did notice… but now you talk about it. Goodbye.

Metal Storm

Love thy neighbour…

“Love hinders death. Love is life. All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love. Everything is, everything exists, only because I love. Everything is united by it alone. Love is God, and to die means that I, a particle of love, shall return to the general and eternal source.”

Leo Tolstoy – War and Peace – Book XIII, Ch. 16

Today we’ll conduct a poll with the objective of discovering where do you stand on lacie underwear.

A – It’s a must
B – Yes i like it
C – Does it show?
D – Been there, done that.
E – Under where???

I myself am a firm believer on fancy underwear. I mean, if they must use it we might as well enjoy it.
And nothing says more about a woman than her underwear and the way she reveals it.
Underwear is like advertising. If used properly it can sell everything.

And then there is the all lingerie thing. Man i do love lingerie. All women should wear lingerie.
If they would the marriages would last longer, or why do you think man have affairs? Because mistress sluts wear better lingerie.
And of course, suck better… On the “Marriage Manual for Wives” there should be an entire chapter for wearing lingerie, and of course, one for the art of sucking.

But the thing that appeals the most to me is how graphic everything is when good lingerie is involved: you instantly know that it will be an awesome ride! If you get one actually hot girl wearing some granny underpants, you always get that shiver that says “oh shit, it goes all the way to her ears, kind of feeling”, even if the girl is actually a sex goddess…
Of course no sex goddess would wear such a fucking ugly thing (not even on laundry day, after a tornado in the middle of the rain forest). But with goodol’ laced underwear you’ll feel right as rain (and you’ll be holding yourself back from jumping on that like a lightning).

So if you get a choice, choose lingerie, choose awesome, choose living la vida loca, choose sucking without braces.

Mohebius & Charoum.

The art of Patience

“This does not mean that the enemy is to be allowed to escape. The object is to make him believe that there is a road to safety, and thus prevent his fighting with the courage of despair. After that, you may crush him.”

Sun Tzu

Last week i had to take a trip with some acquaintances.
And let me tell you, going on a trip is well overrated, specially those abroad.
In one word, FUCK! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck and fuck.
And in case i wasn’t clear enough, FUCK…

Now that we got that out of the way, people can be such pricks some times.
And when you think you can tolerate some one, they go the extra mile and fuck you, fuck your patience and fuck your money.
Don’t get me wrong, if it was a woman doing that, i would give my money as well spent, but an acquaintance?…
I think that’s a little bit too much, just a little…

Don’t you just hate it when you have an acquaintance that needs to have the last word about everything?
Don’t you just hate it when you have an acquaintance that thinks his always right about everything?

But the worst thing is when he tells you that he values your opinion and then just ignores you, or even worst, tells you you can any pick a color as long as it’s black.

So to them all i have two words FUCK YOU.
Join me in saying this liberating words, FUCK YOU!
Come on, you know you can do it, it’s easy, say it, FUCK YOU, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.

And with that we finish today’s lesson on anger management.
Tá tá

Mohebius

Professional Fire Starters

I am part of a world were people’s jobs is putting out fires. You could think that this means that we are some kind of firemen, well yes, but unlike our “real” world counterparts that handle “real” world fires, we get the chance, from time to time, to build vast virtual forests on top of nitroglycerin filled barrels (Cool hu?). These forests are strangely known for their tendency to go BUUUM.

Although I have to admit that the real firefighters do have the advantage of being able to be sexually harassed by women in heat while stripping in some strip joint ending in a twelve to one gang bang with massive lesbian action fuck party. ( Whyyyyyyyyy???????… Lucky bastards… sniff).

Another great characteristic of my wonderfully world is that probably all the fires that we have to put out were created by ourselves or by the people next to us and when we put out the fires we handle, most of the time they just shift somewhere else.

With things more or less clarified I have to say that my interest in this post is not really in the activity itself, but the people that do it.

Most of us handle all these flammable matters with the appropriate care but, like with all volatile things, shit happens… and the next second everything is toast.

People create these fires accidentally, on purpose or even, by pure politics, simply choose not put out the fire some one else lit.

I’ll enumerate a few classes:

1. – Firefighter guy

The guy who accidentally blows up stuff. This is the largest segment of the population in this line of work. He can swap categories once in a while, but most of the time he knows his place.

2. – Joker Intern Firefighter guy

The trainee guy that starts a fire because he decides to have fun, is plain stupid or childish. He is going to be caught, dealt with and probably come out resembling the ashes of his creation.

3. – Asshole Firefighter guy (Can also be designated as “Stupid Dumb Shit God Damn Mother Fucker Firefighter guy”)

The guy that starts a fire because he decides to burn someone else, is just ignorant. He may get away with it once or twice, but the Firefighter guy that only accidentally blows up stuff is not stupid and sooner or later his evil schemes will backfire. If he does manage to get away with it some how, he may evolve into the next category.

4. – PM (Postulant-Masochist) Firefighter guy

Now… Creating fires to be able to put them out latter on is just genius. These are highly qualified professionals that are able to perpetuate the company’s needs in their services, thereby assuring their own job, and most of all, and this is the genius part, get away with it clean by blaming someone beneath him in the hierarchical pyramid. He most probably evolved from the previous category and retains most characteristics.

It’s a fiery moebius strip.

(Please do not misinterpret this last sentence into something along the lines of Mohebius stripping in a flaming plateau… just… Yuck. Nasty stuff man, I’m feeling sick.)

Metal Storm

Einy Minee Miny Moe

“I would do what I pleased, and doing what I pleased, I should have my will, and having my will, I should be contented; and when one is contented, there is no more to be desired; and when there is no more to be desired, there is an end of it.”

Miguel Cervantes – Don Quixote (pt. I, bk. IV, ch. XXIII)

So everything is done with and end in view. The problem is that most of the times things take a strange turn before getting to the end, and some times even after that.

Take STDs for example. For the most absent minded, STD does not stand for Synchronous Twat Dyslexia, but for Sexual Transmitted Diseases.
They are, for some, a modern day plague, for others a way for God to punish the sinners, and to all of them i say, take your heads out of your asses…

I’m as ok as the next man with everybody fucking around, but I’m not ok with some one giving me surprise presents. It’s just a thing I’ve been nursing ever since i was a kid… it’s called Life.

If you want to fuck around go right ahead but use protection, be that knight in shinny armor (maybe even with a tip that glows in the dark, with a little trick i like to call 235 uraniummmm) that she wants, and giver her the ride of her life, or even yours.

And then when you get home after twelve hours of sweat-glowing pleasure, imagine you find out that your partner give you more than you bargained for, and that Chernobyl, compared to your down under is like the garden of paradise.

So wise up and keep that glowing thing away from me…

Mohebius