I'm bogged and clogged.
Election work. Classes. Homework. Gym. School research. Dumb vag infection. Stupid war taking up too many years of my life. No sex for weeks. Worried which school to pick. Where to land myself for a year or two and how to get more worldly after. I'm forgetting to eat. Sleeping too much. Nervous. Anxious. My rhythm is off. Sexless Lola is a sad creature. Non-dominated Lola is a miserable being.
But meanwhile.... There is porn. If you want a digi-short of me giving head to a mysterious man's cock, let me know. I don't want to post it outright here. And, flickr don't take vids. You know the contact email. Maybe it'll bring a bit of spring dark night naughtiness to your life. [nsfw, of course]
Friday, March 23, 2007
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Because I'm a copycat
| ||||||||||||
Muy appropriate.
Found originally on Highly Recommended Thing of the Moment
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
In love....
I know I'm behind the trends a lot. For instance, why download some program to switch my wmas to mp3s when there's itunes? Well... 'cuz I'm slow and I hate the general trends.
But this.. this I love : pandora
As they say it:
Ever since we started the Music Genome Project, our friends would ask:
Can you help me discover more music that I'll like?
Those questions often evolved into great conversations. Each friend told us their favorite artists and songs, explored the music we suggested, gave us feedback, and we in turn made new suggestions. Everybody started joking that we were now their personal DJs.
We created Pandora so that we can have that same kind of conversation with you.
.............
I am digging on my conversation with Pandora.
But this.. this I love : pandora
As they say it:
Ever since we started the Music Genome Project, our friends would ask:
Can you help me discover more music that I'll like?
Those questions often evolved into great conversations. Each friend told us their favorite artists and songs, explored the music we suggested, gave us feedback, and we in turn made new suggestions. Everybody started joking that we were now their personal DJs.
We created Pandora so that we can have that same kind of conversation with you.
.............
I am digging on my conversation with Pandora.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Storytime
"write a story involving a lil green dress, a hot tub, a house that burned down, and bagels please."
My sexy friend Alys got too big while we were in Spain. We were walking all over as we didn't have cars and it was just the expected custom to walk and take buses and metros. But we were compensating, re-building all that energy lost with sweet chocolate croissants and fresh bagels in the morning, fat and juicy pizzas in the night, and topping it all off with a bit too much drinking.
I tried to stop smoking there. It was like trying to go vegan while living in a chocolate factory. So, right after lunch I'd get the guts - which had to be gotten from a drawer way way way at the bottom of all my courage - and put on the shorts, t-shirt, tennis shoes, and walkman and I'd bust out the front doors of the school. That year it was The Prodigy that got me moving up and down the scorched hills and sizzling stone streets. Even if I couldn't run, I walked really, really fast.
But Alys got a bit bigger. After lunch, she'd relax in the cool of her dorm room listening to the hip hop she missed, snacking on Oreos sent from home.
So, when we got to the beach of Alicante over a long weekend she realized she just couldn't squeeze into the dress any longer. I'd been eyeing that thing since the first time I checked out her closet. I'm really not one to flaunt myself. I can be rather shy sometimes, and, I suffer from mirror hatred like we all do. But I knew it was now or never. She kind of shamefully handed it to me and picked another cute dress out of her suitcase.
I never gave that dress back. I'm still surprised I can put it on and not look like a sausage in casing. It's really too short to play pool in, but I do anyway. In the summer, of course, when my skin has been kissed by the sun again.
Two summers ago, I was free and burning for lovin'. I wore the lil green dress out to a night of dinner and drinks with my colleague, her boyfriend, and his friends. It's always a bit difficult and I have to steel the nerves to put the dress on. She requires that I'm in a frame of mind, that I'm bolder, hotter, sluttier, more carefree and careless. She's green neon when she's out and I have to be ready for the girls to hate me and the boys to teeter on the brink of lust and impossibility.
I haven't grown up here - where winter changes everything and affects even summer. So, I'm not accustomed to how exaggerated summer can feel. Everyone and everything is just a bit more alive, a bit more feverish than in other regions where the sun shines longer. And, I'm not used to people owning their own hot tubs like they own a car. "Here's my house, my garage, my hot tub." After dinner and drinks that night, we caravanned out to a country home owned by one of the boys, and that's almost what he said. "Here's my house, the garage, drinks in the kitchen, and the hot tub."
This was the night that changed everything between my colleague and me. They were all stripping to underwear. My lil green dress doesn't afford room for a bra. So, I opted for total naked tubbing. I think the girls were uncomfortable, looking at me like a piece of cotton would make me a cleaner person. I guess the hot tub is usually preferred for winter because it seems almost silly in the summer. Why sweat in a pool of water to get out and sweat some more? It defeats the purpose that my Norwegian ancestors have seeped into my blood: sweat in the sauna or warm in the hot tub, but plan to jump out into the snow to cool off.
All the sweating slowly sobered us all up and one by one everyone started leaving. I wasn't playing footsie under the suds with him, but I'd found my eyes falling on the host of the party over and over. I put the lil green dress back on to say my goodbyes. When it was my colleague's turn to leave - my ride for the evening - I decided I'd be allright left behind. After all, I didn't wear the dress for nothing. This left me and the hot tub owner.
Like I said, I was free and burning. Back then, I didn't really need to or want to let myself go for too long without being touched. Prior to this night though I'd spent an unusual amount of time alone. My first real vacation in years and my first vacation on my own, I opted to spend 3 weeks in the U.P. Camping alone, hiking alone, not doing professional meditation but my own inward journeying and outward appreciation. I had a makeshift shower, lots of easy campfire carb food. I was stinky and I could have grown a beard. My green dress night out was my debutante ball to society again.
After we waved my colleague out the door, hot tub guy and I stripped our meager clothes off on the lawn and went back into the water. Both naked this time. My heart was pounding from a mix of the long minutes soaking and heating and from the fireflies fluttering in my belly. No better time like the present, he slid over closer to me. I don't even remember what the words were because they were insignificant. My temperature rose degree after degree with the proximity of his 98.6F mouth near my ear and neck. I'm sure my heart was at the brink of its fastest pace - opening valves to let blood in, closing to keep balance. Open, close, open, close, the thump thump grew louder. His lips felt like two hot punties burning the side of my neck. My eyes rolled up from the molten bubbles in the hot tub to the burnt shadows of tress and up to the hot, steel blue sky and icy hot, boiling stars. I leaned my head back and heard the sounds of my hair sizzling as it touched the tub.
It wasn't that I had willed my pheromones to spark my hormones to rage in this way. It was out of my control. From the smoking green dress to the stew of sexy hot bodies to the burning hunger inside me. When his hand reached between my melting thighs, there was nothing I could do to stop my internal combustion. The water around us sizzled and sparked. Out of nowhere, flames started jumping from the wood around us. By the grace of luck, he was able to pull us both out onto the cooler grass right before the entire tub burst into flames sending cinders up like fireworks. I was sinking into the warm mud beneath my body but was able to notice him look up in horror as the exploding fires licked quickly up the wooden walls of his country house.
He looked down at me. Smoke was seeping out of my mouth and my cheeks were on bright red. I could tell it was too far, too much. There was nothing to stop the fires from burning down his house.
Weeks later, I tried to explain it to my colleague but she wouldn't let me. I wasn't even sure how to tell her anyway. How would I explain that I had been so bottled up and was so inflamed with lust that I exploded? Maybe I should have blamed the green dress. And I'm sure I should have tossed it into the fire that night, but I didn't.
My sexy friend Alys got too big while we were in Spain. We were walking all over as we didn't have cars and it was just the expected custom to walk and take buses and metros. But we were compensating, re-building all that energy lost with sweet chocolate croissants and fresh bagels in the morning, fat and juicy pizzas in the night, and topping it all off with a bit too much drinking.
I tried to stop smoking there. It was like trying to go vegan while living in a chocolate factory. So, right after lunch I'd get the guts - which had to be gotten from a drawer way way way at the bottom of all my courage - and put on the shorts, t-shirt, tennis shoes, and walkman and I'd bust out the front doors of the school. That year it was The Prodigy that got me moving up and down the scorched hills and sizzling stone streets. Even if I couldn't run, I walked really, really fast.
But Alys got a bit bigger. After lunch, she'd relax in the cool of her dorm room listening to the hip hop she missed, snacking on Oreos sent from home.
So, when we got to the beach of Alicante over a long weekend she realized she just couldn't squeeze into the dress any longer. I'd been eyeing that thing since the first time I checked out her closet. I'm really not one to flaunt myself. I can be rather shy sometimes, and, I suffer from mirror hatred like we all do. But I knew it was now or never. She kind of shamefully handed it to me and picked another cute dress out of her suitcase.
I never gave that dress back. I'm still surprised I can put it on and not look like a sausage in casing. It's really too short to play pool in, but I do anyway. In the summer, of course, when my skin has been kissed by the sun again.
Two summers ago, I was free and burning for lovin'. I wore the lil green dress out to a night of dinner and drinks with my colleague, her boyfriend, and his friends. It's always a bit difficult and I have to steel the nerves to put the dress on. She requires that I'm in a frame of mind, that I'm bolder, hotter, sluttier, more carefree and careless. She's green neon when she's out and I have to be ready for the girls to hate me and the boys to teeter on the brink of lust and impossibility.
I haven't grown up here - where winter changes everything and affects even summer. So, I'm not accustomed to how exaggerated summer can feel. Everyone and everything is just a bit more alive, a bit more feverish than in other regions where the sun shines longer. And, I'm not used to people owning their own hot tubs like they own a car. "Here's my house, my garage, my hot tub." After dinner and drinks that night, we caravanned out to a country home owned by one of the boys, and that's almost what he said. "Here's my house, the garage, drinks in the kitchen, and the hot tub."
This was the night that changed everything between my colleague and me. They were all stripping to underwear. My lil green dress doesn't afford room for a bra. So, I opted for total naked tubbing. I think the girls were uncomfortable, looking at me like a piece of cotton would make me a cleaner person. I guess the hot tub is usually preferred for winter because it seems almost silly in the summer. Why sweat in a pool of water to get out and sweat some more? It defeats the purpose that my Norwegian ancestors have seeped into my blood: sweat in the sauna or warm in the hot tub, but plan to jump out into the snow to cool off.
All the sweating slowly sobered us all up and one by one everyone started leaving. I wasn't playing footsie under the suds with him, but I'd found my eyes falling on the host of the party over and over. I put the lil green dress back on to say my goodbyes. When it was my colleague's turn to leave - my ride for the evening - I decided I'd be allright left behind. After all, I didn't wear the dress for nothing. This left me and the hot tub owner.
Like I said, I was free and burning. Back then, I didn't really need to or want to let myself go for too long without being touched. Prior to this night though I'd spent an unusual amount of time alone. My first real vacation in years and my first vacation on my own, I opted to spend 3 weeks in the U.P. Camping alone, hiking alone, not doing professional meditation but my own inward journeying and outward appreciation. I had a makeshift shower, lots of easy campfire carb food. I was stinky and I could have grown a beard. My green dress night out was my debutante ball to society again.
After we waved my colleague out the door, hot tub guy and I stripped our meager clothes off on the lawn and went back into the water. Both naked this time. My heart was pounding from a mix of the long minutes soaking and heating and from the fireflies fluttering in my belly. No better time like the present, he slid over closer to me. I don't even remember what the words were because they were insignificant. My temperature rose degree after degree with the proximity of his 98.6F mouth near my ear and neck. I'm sure my heart was at the brink of its fastest pace - opening valves to let blood in, closing to keep balance. Open, close, open, close, the thump thump grew louder. His lips felt like two hot punties burning the side of my neck. My eyes rolled up from the molten bubbles in the hot tub to the burnt shadows of tress and up to the hot, steel blue sky and icy hot, boiling stars. I leaned my head back and heard the sounds of my hair sizzling as it touched the tub.
It wasn't that I had willed my pheromones to spark my hormones to rage in this way. It was out of my control. From the smoking green dress to the stew of sexy hot bodies to the burning hunger inside me. When his hand reached between my melting thighs, there was nothing I could do to stop my internal combustion. The water around us sizzled and sparked. Out of nowhere, flames started jumping from the wood around us. By the grace of luck, he was able to pull us both out onto the cooler grass right before the entire tub burst into flames sending cinders up like fireworks. I was sinking into the warm mud beneath my body but was able to notice him look up in horror as the exploding fires licked quickly up the wooden walls of his country house.
He looked down at me. Smoke was seeping out of my mouth and my cheeks were on bright red. I could tell it was too far, too much. There was nothing to stop the fires from burning down his house.
Weeks later, I tried to explain it to my colleague but she wouldn't let me. I wasn't even sure how to tell her anyway. How would I explain that I had been so bottled up and was so inflamed with lust that I exploded? Maybe I should have blamed the green dress. And I'm sure I should have tossed it into the fire that night, but I didn't.
Not such good ideas
This whole on-the-dating-scene-again might be the totally wrong idea for me. Bad morning breath [who doesn't know that they should hide that or re-direct it for fuck's sake?], high school groping, non-convincing daddy talk, too much shyness | not enough bold moves, 15 minutes tops of filling and stuffing - after I pant, "Don't. You. Dare. Come. Yet. Tell me if you need me to stop."
In my sleep I'm running through all the other cocks, all the other men. Dating sure puts things into perspective.
Don't get me wrong. He's a great guy. Although, I do appreciate how much more macho James was. We saw "Pan's Labyrinth" which was not marketed honestly at all.... This film is scary and totally gross with blood and gore and weird, disgusting creatures and body parts. The special effects and sound effects are insanely terrifying. I almost lost my lunch THREE times. [And they tried to spin it as a dark fantasy film about a made-up world that a girl creates in fascist Spain.. ummm.. yeah, don't forget about the war part or the gruesome aspects of her made-up world. Fuck.] So, right, the movie is shock and awe. And I could barely watch. But that's ME - that's the girl who has such an intense imagination that I still remember being terrified when the bad Gremlins showed up. Yeah, I did not appreciate James's manliness enough. And I like man in my men. I want to be the one jumping and screaming and covering my eyes. Not my date.
And, I want my date to ask the maitre d' if there's seating available and for him to ask the waitress to recommend a still or sparkling wine. And, you're right, James, the art of chivalry is lost - no one opens car doors for women anymore. And, you're right, it's really, really special that you do.
And, when we get back to my place, I want him to lead the play. And, not be so touchy when he crawls on top of my chest to straddle my face and feed me his cock. I was moving my arms underneath to be more trapped. He didn't have to get off me and say, "You're uncomfortable." Sigh. This poor, damaged guy. "No, no, I like it." [Grrr.. get the fuck back on top of me and shove your cock down my throat!!]
And, like I said, he's really great and nice. So, I'm [sigh again] making it my mission to help him. [I'm so tired of helping.] I know I don't have to. But there's this looming rock and hard place. We were crazy and he bought tickets using his miles and he booked the time-share for Mexico in May. Ugh. I knew it was too good to be true. And I bet it's some manipulative snare to trap me in his world for 3 months.
So, I'm bucking up. Sure, I'll aim to go to Mexico for a week but you can damn well bet that I'm not keeping my mouth shut. I already commented [gently, because there's no need to make him more sensitive - yuck] after he shot his load all over my face, hair, and chest that he should - next time - maybe get a towel or tissue for the girl to wipe up a bit. Granted, I added, I do like sitting around covered in cum, but sometimes it's just good manners to offer. Yes, I am not going to keep quiet. And, if I just don't think I can take it, if it's just too much work and not enough fun, if I still feel blocked and congested with my own sexual energy needing to come out - then I'll cancel.
He can re-name the second ticket to another friend, right? God, I hope so.
Sigh. I'm too good for most people. And it makes me miss James.
...........................
Staying indoors when it's finally almost 50F outside. Another not such a good idea. But it's a boy phase again where all I wanna do is play. So, I stayed home Friday [after a very successful conference planned by me and my co-workers on Thurs] and stayed in Saturday and worked myself into a sex crazed frenzy. No, I'm not a normal girl. Pajamas and a bowl of cereal, a call-in conference at 10am, a peanut butter banana sandwich at 1pm and then all of a sudden it was 9pm and I had 3 orgasms and plenty more to go. Thank god I decided that yes, I should get off on Saturday before my date. I'm sorry. I know I'm sounding harsh and this is probably another not such a good idea to even go there on here. It'll just take some extra work that I really wasn't prepared for or interested in. If you have any tips I can gently share or tricks of the trade, please let me know.
.................................
Freaking out about which grad school to attend is not a good idea. But I am. I'm trying to establish why I'm going. Since the day I decided what my goal is and decided grad school was the next step to that goal, I've felt like "god" or an "invisible hand" [not the economics one really] has been guiding me, pushing me along. Get home from work, feeling exhausted, fill out another application. Keep plugging along. And, now, all of a sudden, I've got a pool of acceptances to consider and I feel like I've been left. No natural flowing energy is pushing me in one direction. I know I want the overseas schools, but then I considered that Univ of Chicago, best school in the field of public policy probably accepted me. Am I making a mistake to forgo the name/prestige for the experience? I guess I am looking at it as a whole experience, too. To get out of the country, to be abroad, to learn, to meet amazing people in the field, to get connected to the field, to get into the field, to keep moving around the world. It's not about Chicago. It's not about D.C. It's not a name really. It's how badly I need this ticket out in a way.
Another good reason:
Wisconsin: Home Of Assertive Women, Shy Men
The country's most religious people are in Mississippi, the least religious are in Massachusetts. New York has the kinkiest women, while it's Florida for men. Those stats are courtesy of OKCupid.com, a free online dating service that compiled research from its compatibility questionnaires.
Wisconsin placed on three Top 10 lists: We're eighth for loneliest men, sixth for least shy women, and fourth for shyest men.
OkCupid.com CEO Sam Yagan, says the data was culled from almost a million daters who have answered more than 200 million addictive compatibility questions about relationships.
"Their answers have shed light on how personalities differ from state to state," says Yagan. "Wisconsin presents a fascinating dichotomy: its men are among the loneliest and most shy, while Wisconsin women are among the least shy in the country. Guys, take some initiative! The ladies will probably be receptive."
....................
I'm out of not such good ideas although I think I might skip Stats homework and goof off all day again today. That's prolly not such a good idea but I really don't care.
In my sleep I'm running through all the other cocks, all the other men. Dating sure puts things into perspective.
Don't get me wrong. He's a great guy. Although, I do appreciate how much more macho James was. We saw "Pan's Labyrinth" which was not marketed honestly at all.... This film is scary and totally gross with blood and gore and weird, disgusting creatures and body parts. The special effects and sound effects are insanely terrifying. I almost lost my lunch THREE times. [And they tried to spin it as a dark fantasy film about a made-up world that a girl creates in fascist Spain.. ummm.. yeah, don't forget about the war part or the gruesome aspects of her made-up world. Fuck.] So, right, the movie is shock and awe. And I could barely watch. But that's ME - that's the girl who has such an intense imagination that I still remember being terrified when the bad Gremlins showed up. Yeah, I did not appreciate James's manliness enough. And I like man in my men. I want to be the one jumping and screaming and covering my eyes. Not my date.
And, I want my date to ask the maitre d' if there's seating available and for him to ask the waitress to recommend a still or sparkling wine. And, you're right, James, the art of chivalry is lost - no one opens car doors for women anymore. And, you're right, it's really, really special that you do.
And, when we get back to my place, I want him to lead the play. And, not be so touchy when he crawls on top of my chest to straddle my face and feed me his cock. I was moving my arms underneath to be more trapped. He didn't have to get off me and say, "You're uncomfortable." Sigh. This poor, damaged guy. "No, no, I like it." [Grrr.. get the fuck back on top of me and shove your cock down my throat!!]
And, like I said, he's really great and nice. So, I'm [sigh again] making it my mission to help him. [I'm so tired of helping.] I know I don't have to. But there's this looming rock and hard place. We were crazy and he bought tickets using his miles and he booked the time-share for Mexico in May. Ugh. I knew it was too good to be true. And I bet it's some manipulative snare to trap me in his world for 3 months.
So, I'm bucking up. Sure, I'll aim to go to Mexico for a week but you can damn well bet that I'm not keeping my mouth shut. I already commented [gently, because there's no need to make him more sensitive - yuck] after he shot his load all over my face, hair, and chest that he should - next time - maybe get a towel or tissue for the girl to wipe up a bit. Granted, I added, I do like sitting around covered in cum, but sometimes it's just good manners to offer. Yes, I am not going to keep quiet. And, if I just don't think I can take it, if it's just too much work and not enough fun, if I still feel blocked and congested with my own sexual energy needing to come out - then I'll cancel.
He can re-name the second ticket to another friend, right? God, I hope so.
Sigh. I'm too good for most people. And it makes me miss James.
...........................
Staying indoors when it's finally almost 50F outside. Another not such a good idea. But it's a boy phase again where all I wanna do is play. So, I stayed home Friday [after a very successful conference planned by me and my co-workers on Thurs] and stayed in Saturday and worked myself into a sex crazed frenzy. No, I'm not a normal girl. Pajamas and a bowl of cereal, a call-in conference at 10am, a peanut butter banana sandwich at 1pm and then all of a sudden it was 9pm and I had 3 orgasms and plenty more to go. Thank god I decided that yes, I should get off on Saturday before my date. I'm sorry. I know I'm sounding harsh and this is probably another not such a good idea to even go there on here. It'll just take some extra work that I really wasn't prepared for or interested in. If you have any tips I can gently share or tricks of the trade, please let me know.
.................................
Freaking out about which grad school to attend is not a good idea. But I am. I'm trying to establish why I'm going. Since the day I decided what my goal is and decided grad school was the next step to that goal, I've felt like "god" or an "invisible hand" [not the economics one really] has been guiding me, pushing me along. Get home from work, feeling exhausted, fill out another application. Keep plugging along. And, now, all of a sudden, I've got a pool of acceptances to consider and I feel like I've been left. No natural flowing energy is pushing me in one direction. I know I want the overseas schools, but then I considered that Univ of Chicago, best school in the field of public policy probably accepted me. Am I making a mistake to forgo the name/prestige for the experience? I guess I am looking at it as a whole experience, too. To get out of the country, to be abroad, to learn, to meet amazing people in the field, to get connected to the field, to get into the field, to keep moving around the world. It's not about Chicago. It's not about D.C. It's not a name really. It's how badly I need this ticket out in a way.
Another good reason:
Wisconsin: Home Of Assertive Women, Shy Men
The country's most religious people are in Mississippi, the least religious are in Massachusetts. New York has the kinkiest women, while it's Florida for men. Those stats are courtesy of OKCupid.com, a free online dating service that compiled research from its compatibility questionnaires.
Wisconsin placed on three Top 10 lists: We're eighth for loneliest men, sixth for least shy women, and fourth for shyest men.
OkCupid.com CEO Sam Yagan, says the data was culled from almost a million daters who have answered more than 200 million addictive compatibility questions about relationships.
"Their answers have shed light on how personalities differ from state to state," says Yagan. "Wisconsin presents a fascinating dichotomy: its men are among the loneliest and most shy, while Wisconsin women are among the least shy in the country. Guys, take some initiative! The ladies will probably be receptive."
....................
I'm out of not such good ideas although I think I might skip Stats homework and goof off all day again today. That's prolly not such a good idea but I really don't care.
Saturday, March 3, 2007
Because music rocks
I am in total love with mash-ups. DJ Nick Nice has created a set of fucking rockin' mash-ups found here. [NWS]
Selected highlights:
Dj Riko (AC/DC vs Smokey Robinson) For Those About To Clown
Go Home Productions (Madonna vs Sex Pistols)-Ray of Gob
Apollo Zero (Nelly Furtado vs Vanilla Ice & Janet Jackson)-Nasty Promiscuous Baby
Dj Moule (Jamiroquai vs Jimi Hendrix vs Red Hot Chili Peppers)-Jami-Hendrix-Peppers
Notorious B.I.G. vs Frank Sinatra-Come On My Way Of Life
Philmann (Electric Six vs The Muppets)-Gay Muppet Bar
It downloads as one full mp3.
Also, my reliable lil' Creative Zen Micro from '94 finally gave out. The headphones jack broke loose somehow so I had to pinch and push it in one direction just to hear in both ear phones. Lame for walking to/from work and spinning at the gym. I'm really not good at change in these regards. If I like something and I get used to it and I'm comfortable, who wants to be forced to change? Yes, humans are the most adaptable species.
I bought a Creative Zen V Plus the other day and the thing is fucking tiny. It's like I just paid almost
2 benjamins for a Tic Tack box! My main motivation for this over an ipod was just an anti-ipod feeling and I really did have a good experience with my Micro. Sure, I cut a GB off when I bought this, but it's also encouraged me to switch my WMAs over to MP3s so I get more room and can make longer mixed CDs for friends. I tried using Microsoft's Office Plus! Audio Converter [built-in to my XP], but I kept getting errors on some codec that I needed. I found NCH Swift Sound converter ware. I'm sure it'll time-out on me in a few weeks or something, but it's a nice immediate solution.
I'm still adjusting to the V Plus. It's super small and lightweight [the Micro came with a removable, rechargeable battery, V Plus does not] which makes we worry every time I put it in my pocket that I'll drop it or it'll slip out somewhere and I won't notice. I'm also not fond of the "joystick" feature [literally, a very very very tiny nubbin joystick which you push rt/lft to skip songs etc] and I'm afraid I'll break it or wear it out. The sound quality is great and I love that I could actually watch videos on it -- that is, if I had any videos other than porn. I didn't really use the FM option much in the Micro and am not keen on it in this guy - our FM in Madison is so limited what's the point? Mainly, I'm just interested in the gadget as a walkman - get me to/from work and pumping in the gym. Which is another concern. The industry is makin' some big bucks off of us chumpies. Toss in an additional 30$ for the armband that I'll need for working out. I did buy an ipod armband & skin [super tall, narrow] for the Micro and she almost swam in it, but still was snug. This V Plus fills like only 1/3 of the armband skin. Rape me. Please. Take my money.
It's economics, darlings. My music and having access to tunes is worth the 2 benjis. I got a national/int'l warranty extended coverage, just in case, too. Yup, insuring something the size of a toothfloss box. Lordy.
So, if you've got some good tunes for me, float 'em over. If you've got a whole CD or entire folders you wanna share [ahem, legally of course], get yourself an AllPeers account and add me: lola07. A pal turned me on to this - so far seems like it's more secure with personal info and IMs can be encrypted. Or, you can also get a free account at YouSendIt which essentially offers more MB to send/receive for your inbox than Yahoo, Gmail, etc. [File sharing transfer delivery] Roger Traveller used this to pass along huge files of blow job porn a while back.
That's the tech and music update from me.
Selected highlights:
Dj Riko (AC/DC vs Smokey Robinson) For Those About To Clown
Go Home Productions (Madonna vs Sex Pistols)-Ray of Gob
Apollo Zero (Nelly Furtado vs Vanilla Ice & Janet Jackson)-Nasty Promiscuous Baby
Dj Moule (Jamiroquai vs Jimi Hendrix vs Red Hot Chili Peppers)-Jami-Hendrix-Peppers
Notorious B.I.G. vs Frank Sinatra-Come On My Way Of Life
Philmann (Electric Six vs The Muppets)-Gay Muppet Bar
It downloads as one full mp3.
Also, my reliable lil' Creative Zen Micro from '94 finally gave out. The headphones jack broke loose somehow so I had to pinch and push it in one direction just to hear in both ear phones. Lame for walking to/from work and spinning at the gym. I'm really not good at change in these regards. If I like something and I get used to it and I'm comfortable, who wants to be forced to change? Yes, humans are the most adaptable species. I bought a Creative Zen V Plus the other day and the thing is fucking tiny. It's like I just paid almost
2 benjamins for a Tic Tack box! My main motivation for this over an ipod was just an anti-ipod feeling and I really did have a good experience with my Micro. Sure, I cut a GB off when I bought this, but it's also encouraged me to switch my WMAs over to MP3s so I get more room and can make longer mixed CDs for friends. I tried using Microsoft's Office Plus! Audio Converter [built-in to my XP], but I kept getting errors on some codec that I needed. I found NCH Swift Sound converter ware. I'm sure it'll time-out on me in a few weeks or something, but it's a nice immediate solution. I'm still adjusting to the V Plus. It's super small and lightweight [the Micro came with a removable, rechargeable battery, V Plus does not] which makes we worry every time I put it in my pocket that I'll drop it or it'll slip out somewhere and I won't notice. I'm also not fond of the "joystick" feature [literally, a very very very tiny nubbin joystick which you push rt/lft to skip songs etc] and I'm afraid I'll break it or wear it out. The sound quality is great and I love that I could actually watch videos on it -- that is, if I had any videos other than porn. I didn't really use the FM option much in the Micro and am not keen on it in this guy - our FM in Madison is so limited what's the point? Mainly, I'm just interested in the gadget as a walkman - get me to/from work and pumping in the gym. Which is another concern. The industry is makin' some big bucks off of us chumpies. Toss in an additional 30$ for the armband that I'll need for working out. I did buy an ipod armband & skin [super tall, narrow] for the Micro and she almost swam in it, but still was snug. This V Plus fills like only 1/3 of the armband skin. Rape me. Please. Take my money.
It's economics, darlings. My music and having access to tunes is worth the 2 benjis. I got a national/int'l warranty extended coverage, just in case, too. Yup, insuring something the size of a toothfloss box. Lordy.
So, if you've got some good tunes for me, float 'em over. If you've got a whole CD or entire folders you wanna share [ahem, legally of course], get yourself an AllPeers account and add me: lola07. A pal turned me on to this - so far seems like it's more secure with personal info and IMs can be encrypted. Or, you can also get a free account at YouSendIt which essentially offers more MB to send/receive for your inbox than Yahoo, Gmail, etc. [File sharing transfer delivery] Roger Traveller used this to pass along huge files of blow job porn a while back.
That's the tech and music update from me.
Vader's from Madison, WI
Highly Recommended Thing of the Moment highlights our own lil wonder, "Chad Vader." Yes, that is our own Mayor Dave and our fabulous Willy Street Co-op. Dig the 'sconie accent. [more here]
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