Pleasant Dreams

Oh yeah, this might help.

Fair View Welcomes 11 New Countries!

I am just astounded really as I sit and think of all the readers from the many countries that visit Fair View. I look at their flags and try to envisage their lives as they go about their daily business and how that differs from yours and mine. But, at some point we all sit in front of our computers and get together here, at this silly blog. So help me in welcoming these new countries. Welcome to:

ALGERIA

BELARUS


BARBADOS

BOLIVIA

THE BRITISH VIRGIN ISLANDS

THE DOMINICAN REPUBLIC

FRENCH POLYNESIA

MARTINIQUE

MACEDONIA

NEW CALEDONIA
GUAM
Welcome to all!

Pleasant Dreams

Good evening gentle readers and welcome to tonight's version of Pleasant Dreams. The two gentlemen below are looking for a third for their threesome. Are you interested in playing with them for the night? What would be your opening move to introduce yourself and impress upon them your interest in joining them?


Photo credit: Brawny Stud

Sunday Comics - Oliver Frey's Meatmen Finale

Part I


And now, the finale of volume 25 of this comic (adults only): 114, 115, 116, 117, 118, 119, 120, 121, 122, 123, 124, and 125. Hope you enjoyed it!

Pleasant Dreams

The sun has set and it is time to retire. But you are destined for troubled dreams tonight. You will be incarcerated, and your cell mate will be this gentleman. I hear he can be a bit rough on new inmates. But be brave because he will also protect you fiercely. Sweet dreams.



Photo credit: Brawny Stud

Friday Fantasy - Egyptian Escapade, Part 2

I awoke early the next morning refreshed, dressed quickly and hurried down to breakfast because I couldn’t wait to ride horseback to the pyramids! Mr. Butterfly was already there making eyes at Ernst.

In my eyes, that was taking unfair advantage. They had both waited for me before serving morning tea (chamomile) from an exquisite blown glass tea set.

Ernst had soft boiled eggs and falafel prepared to fortify us for our ride. There was also fresh tamarind juice and clementines from the farm. There was a centerpiece of fresh fruit on the table as well.

Ernst talked about plans for our entire trip. “The Egyptian Entomological Society has hired a specialist in Gerridae, water striders, from Morocco since they have no one here in Egypt who specializes that family of insects to work with Mr. Butterfly. He should be here when we return from our ride. He will travel with Mr. Butterfly and help him collect these insects and try to find new species.”

“That sounds great! Actually, Lepidoptera are my specialty, so it will be a real plus to have someone who specializes in Gerridae. What is his name?”

“Dr. Castagno. He just happens to be in the area. As you might imagine, he travels quite a lot. You and he will travel to outer regions of the Nile Delta where water striders are numerous. I will also send you with a local guide boy who knows those regions intimately.”

“Well, I am well taken care of then. I don’t know how to thank you enough Ernst!” said Mr. Butterfly, as he batted his eyelashes.

“That is where Sue comes in.” Then Ernst turned to me and smiled broadly. “She will be getting the grand tour tomorrow and then I will be putting her to very hard laborious work!”

I blushed uncontrollably at suddenly being the focus of attention and then was embarrassed that I did. “Well I hope it is not slave labor!”

“Close to it, but not quite.” Then Ernst joked. “But today is all about sightseeing and fun. So let’s get to it!”

Nuri packed a cooler with a picnic lunch as they prepared to go. The horses (fine Arabians all) were waiting outside already saddled and ready to take us on their journey. Ernst insisted on helping me take my mount, though I didn’t really need any help, I graciously accepted his assistance of a leg up. After all, all is fair in love and war I thought as I gave a wink to Mr. Butterfly. I looked down thankfully into Ernst’s sparkling eyes and smiled genuinely. He smiled back. Everyone else took their mounts and off they rode down the tree lined path, to a bridge over the Nile and the on a trail towards the desert.

Once we hit the desert we were able to canter across the sand. It felt so good to be on horse back again. It had been far too long for me. My Arab mare was swift and responsive. I think I was falling in love with her. In no time I could see the Great Pyramid of Khufu looming in the distance and later the Pyramid of Khafre joined it. There were many other horseback riders out and about in the desert, as this has become a popular way to see the pyramids.

Finally, we were also able to see the third Pyramid, Menkaure. But, they were still quite far off. We were hoping that since we left really early in the morning, we would be able to get tickets to get in.

We loped across the sands hurrying to get there. At last we arrived. We gave our beautiful Arab mounts to Nuri’s care and ran up to the ticket taker for Khufu. He still had tickets! Ernst had been in many times before, but offered to give us a guided tour. Ever the gracious host, he also bought our tickets. We saw many very interesting things, including coffins of pharaohs, and took just as many photos.

It was pretty cramped in the pyramid, and once, as Ernst was passing by me and put his hands on my shoulders and brushed my ass with his crotch. He did say excuse me, but I wondered if he could have passed by without touching me all the same. It seemed a bit on purpose to me. Not that I minded.

We finished seeing Khufu and went back outside. We walked over the Sphinx and climbed a few other pyramids before lunch.

Lunch was lamb kabobs on pita with hummus and fresh tomatoes. We also had a thermos of fresh tea. We looked back towards Cairo and it didnt' seem all that far off. Then we got back on our horses so that we could be back at the house for afternoon siesta.

By the time we returned to the house all of us were completely soaked with sweat and dusted by sand, including the horses. Nuri saw to the animals and Ernst, the young explorer, and I went into the house for baths and siestas.

Around dinner time, I got up, dressed in something cool, and went to the living area to see who else was there. On my way, I ran into Mr. Butterfly and together we proceeded down the hallway. On the sofa was Ernst in rapt discussion with an extremely handsome Middle Eastern looking stranger. Upon seeing us enter, both stood. Ernst quickly introduced the stranger as Dr. Roble Castagno, the entomologist who would be working with Mr. Butterfly. We introduced ourselves. I felt I had better fetch the young explorer’s jaw from the floor where it had dropped. But, he quickly recovered when talk turned to bugs.

Dr. Roble Castagno

“Ah, Dr. Castagno, it is so nice to make your acquaintance. I am sure you will be of tremendous help out in the field since you specialize in Gerridae. Actually I will feel superfluous.” said Mr. Butterfly.

“Why thank you Mr. Butterfly. But please, call me Roble. I am sure I am not needed at all, but I am always glad to be of assistance.”

“Ah, cute and humble too, I like that in a man.” Fortunately, Roble laughed at that comment of Mr. Butterfly's. “I look forward to working with you Roble.” Then they moved closer and shook hands while maintaining eye contact. It was as if an electric current ran through the room for an instant. I don't know about Ernst, but I felt like furniture, I was so left out of the picture.

Ernst broke the moment by saying, “Shall we see what is for dinner?”

Photo credit for Ernst and Roble: Brawny Stud

Pleasant Dreams

Good night gentle readers. Here is your sweet good night kiss. A kiss that might lead to other things, but should at least mean sweet dreams for all of you. Rest well dear ones. See you in the morning.


Photo credit: Caballero

Sophomore Year - Part 1, Back to Cayuga

Sophomore year was life changing for me. But we will get to that later. Anyhow, I was really excited to meet my new roommates and see Colleen again. The twin towers dorms were really new and posh and I was in tower B on the 10^th floor. I took the elevator up to that floor with my green duffle bag and everyone was already there. It was a four person suite, with the common room in the middle, a bedroom off to the left, which Colleen and I would share, and one off to the right, which her friends from New York City would share. We had our own bathroom in the front of the suite. Between the NYC gals, we had a fridge and television and it was just like living in a small apartment with all the comforts of home. The gals from NYC were Jan and Amy and they were very pretty and worked at keeping up their appearances as far as how they dressed and that they wore make up. But they were really down to earth and likable.

I gave Colleen a huge hug and told her how much I missed her last term. We were all so happy as we left together to go eat at the dining hall. I couldn’t wait to begin my new classes.

The class I remember the most from that term was organic chemistry. I sat in the middle of the huge stadium seating classroom as the professor, Dr. Silver, announced that the class would be independent study. All of the students groaned. I thought, what is wrong with that? I can work at my own pace, not be slowed down by others, and if I need more explanation or time, I can get it. But it was a bit daunting to think of learning such a difficult subject all by myself. But I thought I would give it the old college try. After all, there were tutors made available to us. We were given Morrison and Boyd as our text and the curriculum was broken into chapters of the text. The first segment was the first chapter of the book. To complete a segment you had to take a quiz and get at least 80% correct on it. Completion of all the segments assured you a B in the course, then you could better that mark by taking the final.

So, that was my mission. Finish the first segment over the weekend at Cornell, and take the quiz on Monday. I felt bad leaving my roomies on the first weekend back at school, but Tom was free and he was going to be very busy this fall with regattas so I couldn’t be too choosy.

So Saturday morning at Cornell, I went to the Myron Taylor Law Library to study.

I am reading Morrison and Boyd and it makes sense to me. It is logical. This is the first time in my life that chemistry makes sense to me. There I sat in this beautiful wood paneled law library with high ceilings and chandeliers and it is extremely quiet and I am having an epiphany. Chemistry makes sense to me. Organic chemistry makes sense to me. I quickly flip forward through the upcoming chapters of the book. Alkanes, alkenes, alkynes, all of it make sense now. It all makes sense. I can learn this. I can do this. I can know this. I kind of feel like know this already because it is so logical. All you have to understand is that carbon can hold 4 covalent bonds and take it from there. That is the key to all of organic chemistry. Everything clicks into place. I finish quickly and head back to the fraternity. I am ready for the quiz. I feel high.

Tom shows up late and we go upstairs. We undress and he makes love to me in an uninspired fashion. He just hops on and pumps away until he is done. It is good for me, because I am easily satisfied, but it is not quite what it was. Something is missing. I decide not to mention it to him. Sunday, I return to Cayuga.

Monday comes and I take the quiz and get 100%. Guess I was right. I did know it. I take the next 3 quizzes in quick succession and two more 90%’s and a 100%. During the third quiz, Dr. Silver comes and sits in front of me and sings, “Mares eat oats and does eat oats, and little lambs eat ivy, kid'll eat ivy too, wouldn't you?” It was a bit unnerving. When I finished, he graded it himself and handed it back to me.

“You know, you could really do something in this class if you applied yourself.” he said.

I just kind of looked at him. I wasn’t sure what he expected of me.

He continued. “You are smarter than most of the kids in here and have a real talent for organic chemistry. Don’t be afraid to show it.” The he nodded, got up and left.

I was puzzled. This was the first time a college professor had given me positive feedback and I didn't know what to make of it or what do with it. It helped my self esteem a bit though.

Pleasant Dreams - Zeb Atlas with Fur!

Back by popular demand, um mine that is, here is Zeb in his natural state. Furred. I much prefer this look on him, don't you? It is like his body has decoration, whereas in last night's post he looked truly naked. Much like a baby. Yeah, a 250 pound baby. You tell him that, I'm not going to.

The site I got these from was Japanese and they pixelated the image instead of using the "rubber ducky" technique used here at Fair View. I must say that I prefer the latter since it obscures more and adds humor. But I will keep what they have done and just pray that no one tags my site as offensive. But, the image above certainly doesn't hide much. Wouldn't you agree?

I love how you can see the descending veins in his abdomen in this shot. What are those called Doug? I love to think that they feed the blood supply to his rod that he is going to use to pulverize us soon and bring us to the brink of blissful oblivion. Sigh. Good night all.

Okay Boys, Time to Strip!

That's right! Take it all off and then take a photo of yourself for Aussielicious' Public Nudity Challenge! The contest is ongoing and a number of entrants are in the running. My favorite so far is the one below:


This is Mike, who left his office, and used the CCTV cameras to tape himself naked and proud of it, thank you very much! Can you imagine explaining that to the security office???? I guess he is just very lucky no one came along. Great job Mike!!!!

Okay, so this isn't that hard to do and it could be fun. I have been thinking about how I could do it in my town. Of course at night, everything is easier, but you do lose points for nighttime shoots. Remote locations are fine, but again, you do lose points. Gees, guys, how can you resist this challenge?

By the way, the Challenge ends on JULY 31st. That's not much time to go. Prizes will be determined by Brenton. Gee, I hope they are something great!

Pleasant Dreams

Good evening gentle readers. Here is another young man fixated with playing with his rubber ducky. I'll never understand you boys and your toys. You just want to play with yourselves all day. I don't get it. Someone please explain it to me. Nighty night.


Photo credit and unedited image: Brawny Stud

The Curacao Cure - Part 14

We were already packed for our return the next day. So when we awoke early the next morning, we only had to shower and throw our night things into the bags to be ready to depart for the airport. Sean, Woody, Katy and I went to the hotel lobby for quick coffee and Danish before rushing to the airport. There we saw many others of our dive party also getting a quick bite before leaving and loading up dive gear into vehicles. Woody had already loaded all of ours into our barely large enough car. He was just very capable and dependable that way. Eventually, we headed off for Hato Airport.

When we arrived, we unloaded the car, and Woody returned it. We checked in and checked our luggage. Then we hurried to the gate only to find out that our flight from San Juan Puerto Rico was delayed by 1 hour due to a storm. We groaned with dismay and wondered if we would make our connecting flight home which we had 2 hours to make. We knew that we had to clear US customs in Puerto Rico and that could take significant time. And so we waited.

And waited.

It was like this, but we didn't have balloons.

About an hour later, our flight arrived from San Juan and the passengers deplaned. The plane was turned around, and we were allowed to board.



We took off and had a great flight to San Juan. The weather there was clear and sunny when we arrived.

We deplaned and rushed to the next gate to see about our flight home; it was cancelled.

The ticketing area was just like this but bigger with more lines and mobbed with unhappy people and their luggage.

There were only the 11 of us from our dive group that were on it and so they just cancelled it. Just like that. Gone. No more. I remember standing there thinking, well shit. We are so shit out of luck. What now? Then a representative from the airline steps up and says loudly, “All of those people, who were expecting to be on flight xxx that was just cancelled, follow me.”

So we followed him. He led us straight to the huge ticketing area for the airline that was just plain mobbed and left us there to fend for ourselves. We were abandoned with the masses of people. Nothing special was planned for us. Again, we were SOL. But, we had 11 people, so we each split up and got on separate lines to get to the front more quickly. Eventually, one of us got to the front of a line and then all of us went to that line to find out about flights going to where we wanted for all of us.

Unfortunately, one guy was at the end of his rope and began freaking out. He threw a total shit fit and went off at the ticket agent. Completely useless, in my opinion, what had she to do with the mess we were in? In any event, they were able to accommodate all of us accept for him on a flight leaving sooner than the flight we were originally booked on but on a different airline. Strange isn’t it how they couldn’t accommodate him until much later (yet they were able to accommodate his wife who uttered not a peep)? But then, we had to rush around to clear customs.

If we thought there was a mob at the ticket counter, it was because we hadn’t seen the zoo in the customs area. The customs area was at least 100,000 square feet (two football fields side-by-side) and wall-to-wall people. There were faux lines. In other words, ropes were being used, but only some people were paying attention to them. Many people didn’t know what the lines they were in were for. But they stood in them doggedly like sheep, for hours at a time as if they had nothing better to do with their lives. Not us. We were in a hurry. We had to hustle. But, there were now 10 of us looking for a quick way through the lines. We had to go through customs; clear the agriculture check and then go through customs again. The agriculture check guy was just sitting there with a stamp and asked if you bought any fruit or vegetables and then stamped your tags. Total bullshit. We pushed and shoved, and pushed and shoved our way across the whole building three times to get it done, probably pissing off lots of people, and we did it trailing all of our luggage behind us. We were all in a full sweat when we were done.

Next, we needed to clear security again to get to the gate. So we took off at a run to get there. All 10 of us stood there panting stopped at the first checkpoint. We all got selected for the special security check. Oh joy! We all had to take our shoes off, they opened all of our bags, looked at all of the dive equipment, cameras… It was going to take forever! We would never make our flight! Worse than that, they didn’t seem to know what they were doing and all acted as if they were in training! They couldn’t put Sean’s camera back together and he had to help them. Sigh. So finally, we are back together and running to make our flight, and there is another security checkpoint. Disaster! They stop us and check us again!!!! We protest that we have already been checked thoroughly, but they insist we take off our shoes. All 10 of us take off our shoes! AGAIN!!! They look at them and one-by-one as we are cleared we sprint to our flight, promising that we will hold the plane when we get there.

I get to the plane early on and tell the flight crew that more are coming and are held up at security. Their response, “We will depart on time. If they make it that’s great.”

“You mean you would leave without passengers that are here, just down the hall?”

“Yes to be on time.”

I just shook my head and got on the plane. I could see Sean coming right behind me. At least he had made it. I found my seat and sat down. Sean and I counted and all 10 us got on the flight. We all high-fived when a new member of our dive group boarded. We all made it and we were on our way home. What a way to end an adventure. I am never flying through San Juan again. Not if I can help it. That is for sure. What a fucking circus that place is.

By the way, the one passenger that lost his temper got home the next day.

Anyhow, as we bid a fond farewell to Curacao, here are some photos that didn’t fit into any posts:

Two banded butterfly fish

The Court House

French Angel fish

The Governor's Palace as seen from the Queen Emma Bridge

Honeycomb Cow Fish

Police Station

Temple Emanuel