keithcancooks
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Posted:Mar 6, 2006 4:14 pm
Last Updated:Jun 2, 2023 7:28 am
18897 Views
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keithcancook's Fables: The Peacock & The Fox
This fable is sorta continued from keithcancook's Fables The Peacock, the Donkey, the Fox .
The peacock and the fox engaged in a multitude of pleasures. The bond between them blossomed and strengthened. In fact, the fears of the peacock came true and his heart was turned. Against his better judgement he allowed it to burst the bonds of cynicism that had protected it for so many years and offered it up to the fox like a ram to the slaughter.
Or did he? It may appear that the peacock is more complicated than even his simple mind ever dared to fathom. For in giving his heart to the fox, he never lost sight that the fox was safely married to another. Thus the peacocks's heart would be safe. He could dole out his emotion in a part-time fashion, protecting himself from the dangers of total commitment. He would simply make himself available when there was time. His heart could never be broken if he accepted this arrangement.
Or could it? Can a heart turn on and off? The peacock thinks not, but finding himself enamoured he is giving it a shot.
Moral of the story...
Peacocks think too much and are not very bright.
"What fools these mortals be."
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Selections From the BlogLand Dictionary
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Posted:Feb 22, 2006 11:02 am
Last Updated:Jun 2, 2023 8:07 am
20507 Views
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historigasm hiss • tor • i • gazum
adj. A euphoric, goose-pimply sensation resulting from exposure to significant historical artifacts. example keithcancook experienced a powerful historigasm when he saw the Dead Sea Scrolls.
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Songs From The Land Of Blogz
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Posted:Feb 15, 2006 1:28 pm
Last Updated:Jun 2, 2023 8:12 am
19472 Views
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While I am on another Oz kick, here are a few more tunes all bent and twisted by yours truly. These were originally posted on May 23, 2005 in The Wizard of Blogz to launch a political campaign...
SONGS FROM THE LAND OF BLOGZ
IF I ONLY WAS INSANE
I could type away the hours, my words both sweet and sour
Writing through the pain.
And my dick I’d be scratchin’ while my plots are busy hatchin’
If I only was insane.
I’d publish a news paper, but I am such a faker
And a faker I remain.
So the news is somewhat stinkin’ and I don’t mind y’all thinkin’
That he surely is insane.
Oh, I , could tell you why the whores won’t let me score.
I could think of things I never thunk before.
Like how? To get in her back door.
And it wouldn’t be for nothing, as Tala fucks the stuffing
Outa some girl with no name.
I would dance and be merry, life would be a dingleberry
If I only was insane.
KING OF THE WHORES
If I were King of the Whores, not queen, not duke, not prince.
The regal robes of the Whores, would be fishnet, not cotton, not chintz.
I’d command each one, from 90 pounds to a ton,
With a humph and a pumpf and a royal UMPH! (oink)
When I click my heel all the Whores will kneel
The MISTRESSES bow and the NYMPHOS kowtow.
And all the FEMALES will sing of my ding-a-ling, if I - if I - if I were KING!
All women will respect me, even gutter-sluts genuflect to me.
Though my tail would lash, I would show compash
For every underling!If I - If I - were King!
Just King!
(ha ha ha, ho ho ho, and a couple of la ti da's; I slay me sometimes)
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Classic Comments #3
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Posted:Feb 14, 2006 1:15 am
Last Updated:Jun 2, 2023 8:24 am
24158 Views
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The Venting Blog Presents: Classic Comments
Sometimes when I am reading a blog I will suddenly break out in song. This one was inspired by 1hotwahine's comment in mzhunyhole's post: [post 100924] , from August 25, 2005. She wanted a song for the BlogLand Retirement Home...
1hotwahineHow could I possibly come up with anything better than following the Yellow Brick Road????
Of course that also means that the real Blogland will be in Kansas, so we might want to rethink it a little. Wait - that might actually be a good, centrally located. "...and Kansas, she said, is the name of her star..." Maybe Keithcancook will come up with a retirement song for us.
mzhunyholeOOOH..I never thought of that we will need a song..lol.
A song you say? All you need to do is ask. (Or have 1hotwahine issue a challenge).
. . . . . SOMEWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW
Somewhere over the rainbow bloggers sigh.
That's where BlogLanders go to
once their old blogs have died.
Somewhere over the rainbow posts go through.
And all the men's balls are golden
rather than a shade of blue.
Someday I'll jump into a car
And go to where the bloggers are
All with me.
Where nectar drips from honeypots
and I will get laid quite a lot
That's where you'll
find me.
Somewhere over the rainbow our rest home lies.
An ol pal wanks in the rest home
why then, oh why can't I?
If happy little expat wanks beyond the rainbow
why oh why can't I?
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29
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(Page:)
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Classic Comments #2
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Posted:Feb 5, 2006 8:41 pm
Last Updated:Oct 23, 2015 8:12 pm
23019 Views
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The Venting Blog Presents: Classic Comments
Here's one with the reigning Queen of BlogLand, mzhunyhole . It posted on April 20th, 2005 when BlogLand was young. [blog mzhunyhole] has been a mainstay of BlogLand from its earliest days. The post is titled [post 15348] , and our Goddess has inspired our Queen quite well, don't y'all think?
I have always been fond of this post and comment, and now perhaps you will see why...
mzhunyhole
A wish could be granted
A space in time
An overnite venture
When you are mine
I would consider
I could give it to you
All you want just ask me to...
My first stab at a little ditty ..it is named ...To KCC
When wishes are heard
Space and Time stand still, unnerved.
For when lovers meet and passions burn
Worlds and heavens are overturned.
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Another BlogLand Nursery Rhyme, by keithcancook
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Posted:Jan 31, 2006 5:23 pm
Last Updated:Nov 28, 2010 6:43 pm
20256 Views
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All around the president bush
An army chased a weasel.
The army said they found not a whit.
Pop! goes the weasel.
A million for an oil well,
A billion for some diesel.
That's the way the money goes.
Pop! goes the weasel.
Up and down the Airport Road,
or flying like an eagle,
Forever stay on high alert,
Pop! goes the weasel.
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Jews
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Posted:Jan 28, 2006 4:30 pm
Last Updated:Mar 5, 2008 8:53 pm
19438 Views
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For the past two months, I have been working very closely with a local Synagogue. It has much enriched my life to be around such wonderfully friendly people. So much, that I felt moved to blog about it.
As a historian, I am somewhat familiar with the history of the Jewish people, but I know little of Jewish mysticism. I have known many folks of Jewish heritage throughout the course of my life, but not many devout ones. Now I am learning a bit about what their goals are and the true love for their fellow humans that resides in their hearts.
This Synagogue is Jewish Reform, which is quite different from Orthadox Synagogues. From what I can gather as I listen to their services, their goals are to enrich society as a whole through education, social welfare, and reaching out to the broader community, including Christian and Moslem congragations as well as local government. Laudable goals, no matter what you believe.
Yet that is on a societal level. On a personal level I can only say that these folks have extended their love to me and I truly enjoy being around them. Such positive energy! Interacting with them has been a blessing to me.
Blog On!
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23
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Metrosexual Mania
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Posted:Jan 25, 2006 9:40 am
Last Updated:Mar 7, 2006 7:29 am
20094 Views
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Autumn, 2005. keithcancook peers through the pane of a local nail salon, pausing before plunging in. Yes, there are Asians in there. Perhaps as hink says, they will pluck me long time.
My bushy brows are again cause for concern. Concealing my eyes completely. Creating confusion on my face, crawling in contrary directions, completely out of control. Chaotic, cluttered, clumped, and climbing. Jeeze, all I needed was a top hat and cloak and I could pass as MrHydecancook!
I enter the salon. Ugh! It aways stinks in these places! I do not think I will ever get used to it. As usual, I am the only male in sight. A pretty young Chinese girl approaches and asks me in heavily accented English how she can be of service. She seems confused when I ask her if she can fix my eyebrow.
As I begin to use sign language to accentuate my inquiry, two other Chinese women scurry over to assist. I'm explaining that I want my eyebrows waxed, and sort of simulating the procedure with my hands.
The older woman breaks into a big smile as she realizes what I want. Suddenly she switches to Chinese, and all three women begin talking at once. (females do that a lot it seems) They lead me to a chair in the back as everyone in the shop watches us.
They plucked me long time, all right. All three of them. It was a gang pluck. They pressed in close and they were awesome. They used all sorts of balms and waxes and other implements. When they were finished, there was nary a hint of red. I was amazed at how gentle the whole thing was, and how little it irritated my skin.
So there it is. I went to a salon of my own free will. No coercion. No persuasion. No coaxing. And I liked it! Those Asians were so deferential. I want to be with them more. I want to see what else they can do.
Many of y'all who have commented in this series of posts on my budding metrosexuality have urged me to try the "day spa" experience. Of manicures, pedicures and massages. Some have mentioned waxing "other areas", but I do not think I need waxing anywhere else. Maybe a little de-waxing in the ear area, but otherwise I reckon to be wax free.
Now tell me. What can a man expect from a "day spa" experience? What else can they do in there?
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I Was A Teenage Metrosexual (part II)
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Posted:Jan 20, 2006 12:13 pm
Last Updated:Mar 7, 2006 7:31 am
18612 Views
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December, 2002.
After packing the off to Maryland for a post-Christmas visit with their mother, I decide to vacation for a few days at my late Grandfather's condominium in South Florida. While unpacking my things I meet this stunning woman with a truly awesome figure. I struck up a conversation with her and soon I had a dinner date to be followed by by some New Years Eve dancing and clubbing.
She decides to make an appointment to have her nails done and asks me to accompany her. Innocently, I agree. (I would have agreed to accompany her anywhere...yummy).
So we go. As I enter, I am instantly aware of those salon smells invading my senses. Again I find myself the only male in a room with about 15 women in it, all looking at me. While she is getting settled with the manicurist, I browse through the magazines looking for something to read.
Damn, not much to choose from. I settle on the current Cosmopolitan and try to pretend I am somewhere else. I once again find myself in alien territory, and while not as uncomfortable as before, I do feel a bit self-conscious.
All the beauticians are Chinese. Three generations of em by the looks of it. Then one of the older mama-sans looks at me and says something in Chinese. The other girls laugh, and one of em actually blushes.
I pretend not to notice, becoming suddenly intent on reading the article concerning the Top Ten Easy Tricks To Entice Your Man or some such malarky. The mama-san then addresses my girlfriend and asks if she would like her to "do something" about my eyebrows.
I got a sinking feeling as the room filled with chatter, some of it English, some Chinese, and all of them glancing in my direction as they converse. It was all so hauntingly familiar, like an episode of The Twilight Zone, as my new girl began to wheedle me into letting them operate on my bushy brows.
Before I knew it I was on a chair. Three women were pressing in close. They were talking with each other, but I did not understand their language. Eventually, they began their work.
A balm was applied. Then the wax was carefully dabbed on and several cloth strips were even more carefully placed over my brows. They worked above the brow and also below the brow. One girl got some tweezers and they plucked out stray hairs. They were very meticulous about it, and it was a much better job than the first one I got as a .
Another thing that was different from the first time was that I found myself sizing up these women and getting turned on as they pressed in on me. This was turning out to be a very pleasurable experience. I think they worked on me for nearly half an hour before they were finished.
My girl was pleased, I was happy, and Fort Lauderdale, Fl. was ready for us now. I had a great new years eve that night, and decided that perhaps metrosexuality was not so bad after all...
Oh yeah, thankfully, no zits appeared this time. 
PS: (expat, ol pal... you need to get yer butt over to a nail salon today!)
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17
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I Was A Teenage Metrosexual
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Posted:Jan 16, 2006 12:47 pm
Last Updated:Mar 7, 2006 7:33 am
19210 Views
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September, 1970. 15 yr. old keithcancook rides with his mother as she runs errands...
Mom: I have to run into the beauty parlor, why don't you come in and meet the ladies?
My heart sank. I did not want to go into a "beauty parlor". Those were for girls. I did not like the smells in there. Nor did I like the way the women looked at me when I was in there. I always seemed to be the only male when I went into places like that, and it made me uncomfortable. I was in foreign territory, a stranger in a strange land. Besides, I knew my mom wanted to show me off, and I did not wish to be shown off.
I enter the place with my mother anyway. Soon I am in the middle of a circle of gawking females. All of them talking at once.
"Oh, Shirley! He's sooo cute!"
"He's adorable!"
"Those are the bluest eyes I have ever seen"
"What about that eybrow?"
"Oh, we simply must fix that eybrow for him."
"Put him in that chair. I'll get the wax."
Before I could react, or even decide how to react, I found myself sitting in a chair in a female beauty parlor amidst a flurry of activity; all centered around me.
"Quit squirming."
"Hold his shoulders"
"Come on, it's not going to hurt."
Suddenly I felt warm goo being dabbed between my eyes. Then some cloth was pressed on. Then, SCHWICK! It was ripped off with a flick of the wrist.
I said nothing, but instantly my visual world was filled with stars and comets flying around, and all my other senses focused on the stinging pain welling up from between my eyes.
"There, that didn't hurt did it?"
"You look so much better without all that bushy hair growing between your eyes"
"You will need to return every four weeks to keep those eyebrows tamed."
"Oh, isn't he so cute! I think he is cross with us!"
They put a mirror in front of me and I sqinted through the dissapating pain at the bare spot between my eyes. It was angry and red. And completely devoid of hair.
OMG! My eyebrow, my one and only eybrow, was now two distinct and separate eyebrows. I was not used to seeing my face like that. And I was not sure if I liked it. I had allowed all this because I sort of trusted their opinion. After all, they were women. If they said I would look better with two eyebrows rather than one, well, what the hell did I know? I was only a youngster, and I was naive about what women liked. Yet it was becoming important to my hormone filled, pubescent world.
I had always been proud of my eyebrow. All my life. It was a physical feature which I imagined made me somewhat unique. It had certainly generated comments from adults as far back as I could remember. Still, I figured I could try a new look. If I didn't like it they had assured me that it would grow back.
The next day, when I got up and prepared myself for school, I looked into the mirror. OMG! There, right between my eyes, were 20 to 30 teeny tiny zits! Most of em with little white points on the tips. Horrified, I ran some warm water and started scrubbing. I was trying to wash them off. To no avail.
I went to school, prepared for major abuse from my friends. Nobody said anything, but those damn zits stayed there for 5 days. Cursing, I swore to myself that I would never allow wax to be applied between my eyes again.
And I kept that vow. For the rest of my teenage years. On through my twenties, and beyond my thirties into my forties. I was bushy, and I was proud. Girfriends came and went, but the eyebrow remained. Many lobbied for me to "tame" it once again, but I stood firm.
Then, at 47 years of age I again faced an eyebrow decision. And yet again...(here's a surprise) ... it was female inspired...
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To link to this blog (keithcancook) use [blog keithcancook] in your messages.
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