Ukraine Blog to Heart & Soul of Love
I know, I know, I said I wasn't going to write a blog until next Sunday, allowing my enemies who fight me daily for content, hits, blog names, and just about anything--part of my forgiveness penance, to share my blog with my enemies . . . well, the only thing consistent about me is my inconsistency, in the place I want to live, in my choice of living arrangements, and in landing on just one man, at least at a time . . . my son, bass guitarist, God's Revolver & Maraloka, Elliot Taylor Secrist, said, Mom, you just are not marriageable material . . . my oldest daughter, Greta Secrist Hyland, dittoed that sentiment.
I guess my enemies, the NSA, CIA, FBI, and their chicks, are at a loss for words--never my problem--I always have about 10 topics, and growing daily, I can think to write about; but news in timely, so are heart-felt thoughts, rare indeed for me, so I, failed to even check if they competitors from my life juices, even wrote or not, and I am sure, they, pros at deception, will actually make, the wait look, like they orchestrated, and I am the fraud, when all is said and done . . . so think what you want, but as I waited for the Learning Center, at St. Patrick's or St. Peter's Hospital in Missoula, Montana--I never paid much attention to the name, until I need to write it . . . so, I apologize, if I were not lazy, I would go check right now, but I am too lazy, so the hospital, I have frequented since last year, using their Internet and Learning Center, to open, so I could write a scathing report on the organized and funded alleged protesters who are taking over government building after building, with military precision, and new camouflage uniforms . . . just remember, the Central Bankers, connected to the Central Intelligence Agency or the CIA, who is tied into Wall Street, fund both sides of the war . . . they want to turn east against west--more money . . . but it is your kids who are getting shot up and killed! All for $$$$$$$$$$$$$$.
Now I think Israel, who requires both males and females to spend 2 years in service to their country, have come upon something, with requiring females to fight--while the men, may dink around and play war games, the women, have kids, houses, and shopping to do, so traditionally, the Israelis, just get it done in 6 days, or now, I think they have perfected this war thing down to, 4 days, if I remember in their latest scrimmage with the Palestinians . . . if you want a job done right, give it to the women, they have better things to do than fight!
Make Love, Not War . . . I Met Two Alleged Black Chefs, Both Trained at La Cordon Bleu Cooking Schools, Within Three Days--You Know the CIA, Culinary Institute of Arts Kind of Chefs--LOL
I am sure the CIA, got tired of sending white guys, who were attracted to me, but adverse to the ample butt I have, that black men dig, and that is one of the reasons, I dig them . . . the white CIA agents, the agency laid on the sacrificial alter, all in the name of national security, would make statements, as one did yesterday, always the caviat, JoAnn, with your looks, you could have any guy (what do you mean, I do) . . . or if you would just lose, 30 or 40 lbs.--try, 150 lbs., I put on after you jack-asses poisoned me, I would be chasing you around the bedroom; really, I hadn't noticed that stopped you!
Seriously, in the last 5 years, since I reactivated my law license, after my stellar activities against the government prior to my 8 year hiatus, after I got poisoned, the CIA, has sent agent after agent, to try to reduce me to the, um, alleged womanly things of life . . . whatever in the hell that is now days, I guess cooking, which I haven't done since 1989, or is that doing anything but taking on the big boys in government, they have sent literally hundreds, I married three . . . power is attracted to power, but what you marry for, you usually divorce for, or just write my own annulments, when I find out they are really my enemies, not lovers!
Anyway, my love life has been down right interesting, if not entertaining, and more. But, my black lovers, by far, and in a large part, have softened, tenderized, civilized, and done a great deal to tame this Amazon Warrior Queen, who prides herself in not needing men . . . and makes war with them, not love . . . because, while trying to hide, their feelings just can't do it . . . one gets silent, will not talk, let me touch him, let me kiss him . . . and the other, my sparing partner, with an I.Q. of 168, goes the extreme from fucking me, to fighting with me and nothing in between!
Between Miles--Al Green & Howard--Teddy Pendergrass, This Tag Team of Heart, Body, Soul and Mind, Has Done A Number on Me!
I have had men, my whole life, starting with a group of 10 guy in my neighborhood, growing up, and chasing me home, everyday of second grade, to a group of junior high boys, who me and my friends busted out every night of the summer of say 1969 or 1970, to a group of 20 guys, sitting a the then, new McDonald's in North Salt Lake, singing, JoAnn takes me down to a place by the river . . . then chasing me and my girlfriend around town, until they got us cornered in a church parking lot, near, South Davis Junior High School, where my mother taught health and P.E., to post-divorce, BYU wards, with guys calling and telling me, I was the most desirable girl or woman in the ward, but none of them dared ask me out . . . to my stalker, Paul, and Mike, and law student crew from Provo, the Old Mill Apartments, whom I used to write boys, club notes to, knowing full well they were all reading them, and now, I have just graduated up to federal boys clubs, with not much more sense in women . . . but Miles and Howard . . . holy shit, the two . . . combo team take down . . .
And, I have failed to give acknowledgements to YouTube, who at the worst, or best times, being possibly fed by these two Culinary Institute of Arts scholars, stratigically placing either Al Green, aka, Miles or Teddy Pendergrass, aka, Howard, whom, I tried to contact 3 weeks ago, after tracking him down, working on the ranch, where we were both going to work at together, thus, seeing Teddy Pendergrass coming up on my YouTube God recommended songs for the day . . . scream, wearing a cowboy hate and coat, that would be worn on the ranch, with the song, I Don't Hurt Now . . . which brought me to tears, as a black guy, walked in the hospital just that moment!
With the words of the song, and the thoughts of Howard, the warrior queen, cheering for the Ukrainians, who favor the west, with me being incredibly competitive, left me with a heart melted, crying and missing Howard, like crazy . . .come here woman, let me do what I want to do, let me make sweet love to you, oh, baby, so good baby . . . song on right now! Sceaaaaammmmmmm! So good, sweet woman, I like the way you make me feel . . . so good, so good, so good, so good, baby, uh . . . sexy as hell!
Howard
I actually, met Howard, at the God's Love Homeless Shelter, transitional housing, after I left Miles, whom I met on the Amtrak Train, in Chicago, while both of us were going to Washington, D.C., but split trains at Chicago, him taking the upper train, and I had tickets on the lower train . . . he had three days, to break me in so to say . . . cute, smart, informed, knew more about the government, the intelligence community, conspiracy theories, and all than I did, with a father that worked at the Department of Transportation in D.C., so it shocked me, and made me somewhat suspicious, when I met Howard, also, a trained chef, both at La Cordon Bleu, but from different schools, in different states--Howard, grilled Miles, and told me he had to be undercover, because he would not give his graduation date, or something like that, but I was, well into a text and sext relationship with Miles, before I met Howard . . . so both of them were fully briefed and all was disclosed, before I had done anything more than hug Miles, who taught me how to text, so I learned to express my sexual desires, feeling safe I would not see him again!
Miles, looked like a pro basketball player, Howard, looked like he could have been a pro football players, but very smart politically, so no . . . but he had a father who was a college administrator at Rutgers University and a grandfather, who was a doctor. Howard's father always wanted to be an FBI agent, but discrimination, stopped him, but that left a nagging question in my mind, was Howard, following in his father's footsteps, was an FBI agent, and possibly the agent, I blew off, after meeting him outside the Federal Building in Chicago, 20 years earlier, that I told after going to lunch, and him kissing me, but resolved, back at Americans United for Life, my internship, that I didn't believe in interracial dating--and that went to Hispanics, Asians, and everyone! Was here to get a second shot? We hit it off right off the bat . . . he seemed like a husband, more so than all of my other four put together!
Howard, was kind of like one of those cuddly, big bear type guys, who I couldn't keep my hands off--we both loved the mountains, he had hiked almost every major mountain range in America, worked at national parks, ski resorts, and now a ranch . . . politically, we saw everything the same, except gun control or no gun control . . . he would drop me off at the gym every day, and drop pick me up, then we would head for the hills outside of Helena, or by a lake, he would relax in my lap, after working all day, while I would rub his tired feet or chest, while he napped, and I read--he was like the All American male, into cars, trucks, sports, women, sex--like a high school kids, bumping, pushing, grabbing, touching, kissing, laughing, pushing limits, fun as hell . . . the racial tension even made if more fun, the newness, discovery, all to thunderstorms, rain, dirt roads, lakes, pine trees, and shear beauty, and not just in nature.
Howard, satisfied the nature, husband needing side of me--breakfasts, holding hands, both in glasses, him reading sports, me politics--he would be pissed if the Yankees lost to the Red Socks, I would be pissed over about everything political. He would smile as I would start to rant about something, too early, Honey . . . and then he would tell me, if we got together, he was going to censor the newspaper, and cut out all the articles he knew pissed me off, what the whole newspaper . . . and I in turn, when he would rant, about sports, said I would do the same . . . equal protection, Honey, too early, smile.
If You Like It, Put A Ring On It--Beyonce' and Glacier National Park
I kept telling, hot to trot, playboy, of 56, Howard, who had never been married, nor had children, at least any the mother's connected him too--Miles, just got caught at 42, going to be a new daddy, which I informed both of them they needed to get married and have a few kids, gift the world with your kids, I.Q., personality, physical traits, etc., if you like it put a ring on it . . . no sex, until we are married, I know your type, he wanted to move in together in Helena, but I told him, if he ever wanted to trick me into sex, get me to the mountains, that is where he would have the best chance, so he got me a job at Glacier, with him, he was one of the chefs at Swiftcurrent Lodge, I was to be front desk.
I think Howard, figured, this ring thing was not going to work, so get her in the mountains, and the sex would eventually happen, and it did, the first night, we broke the single bunk bed we shared, before the other two workers got there, and took up shared beds, on taped together single mattresses, on the floor . . . nothing was going to stop this boy and his mission, so all night long. LOL! I had been doing the Mormon thing, while not practicing the religion, law practice had totally killed my sexual desires, for the actual part of it, sex, but seven years, abstinence, was enough . . . so I caved in.
Now, Howard, had the demeanor of a bad ass Chicago cop--stone faced, sunglasses you can see yourself in, and a pissed off attitude, while sweet at the same time. I was like a giddy school girl the next morning . . . laughing, kissing, hugging, singing to the music, and talking . . . finally, on our drive, Howard, spoke up and said, I tried to fuck you to death last night, you are either on drugs, or I am going to have you committed to the mental hospital . . . LOL! As I laughed and kissed him again, he said, JoAnn, I have a headache. LOL! I was laughing so hard, I was crying . . . I said, Well, you did all the work, I just laid there . . . LOL. He took an 8 hour nap, after we got back to the cabin. LOL!
Between Howard Faking or Not Pushing Me Off a Bridge and a Waterfall, And Clients in Utah, I Left Glacier--Killing Howard, Who Didn't Know I Left
With the CIA, assassin, thoughts, always in my mind, and at a lodge that was so remote, that there was not Internet or cell phone, and I was dependent on Howard, to drive me 12 miles to get cell phone reception, and his worked but mine did not, and then trying to fuck me to death, and his reaction, humor aside, might be a red flag, I needed to pay attention to . . . and two clients needed me, at the same time I was doing training, so I left. I tried to come back a week later, and Howard, seemed a different person. So I left, again, but I broke my back to get back up in July, to celebrate his birthday . . . which I traveled 4 states to make, and he could barely take 30 minutes to have dinner . . . new girlfriend, likely . . . men are like trolley cars . . . one coming by every 10 minutes, and Miles, was still hot on the plate, so . . .
Howard, came once more to Helena, where I spent the summer, we saw each other briefly, but he didn't talk, wouldn't let me touch him, no kissing, really wondered what was going on, but he was the last one that was going to tell me what was going on. I figured he got some girl pregnant up at Glacier, and she was waiting for him . . . this was for the best, but love them and leave them, that's what I used to do, use and abuse them, then I met you, it was pain before pleasure . . . that was my claim to fame . . . Teddy popping back into my conscious mind, I wasn't very nice back then, then I kissed your lips, and you turned on my fire, and you burned me up in your flame, took me higher, you turned on my fire, then you showed me what a love could do, fire and desire, feel it coming through, oh how, I thank you baby, you showed me so much love and sensitivity, you taught me so much . . . thinking his is God's gift to women, how fast he can change . . . now the flip side, but a woman . . . pain before pleasure, that was my claim to fame . . . maybe we cancelled each other out, two peas in a pod . . . break each other's hearts, change . . . fire and desire! You burned me up in your flame, and we are both to blame for the flame . . .
Every attempt to contact Howard, since then, has been denied, even from people who should do it, knowing both of us, Glacier, God's Love, the Ranch, etc. I know Howard, got the message with my phone number on it, just a month ago, but it looks as if, he can't forgive me, and I hope the song, I Don't Hurt Now . . . applies, and that he has found someone that heals his heart . . . never meant to hurt you! Sob! LUV . . .
Miles
We text 300 texts, before we actually got together, but Miles is more about the mind, business, legal, questions, grants, and the like, with sex, kind of like a sideline, but necessary. He is more my sparing partners . . . nothing in between fucking and fighting, which is fine with me, but he doesn't want to be my sparing partner, but who can start a fight over me going to see him, while he is sick, on New Years Eve? He acted like I was some self-righteous, well person, coming over and rubbing in my wellness? What is that all about, how does anyone fight over that? We did . . . the last time we talked or fought, I think text and sext, may be the more sexually healing, but I love him just the same! LOL.
Miles fills a very base need in me, the tension between brain and brawn, mind and body, with sexual tension fueling the fire and flames there too. In law school, after finals, I would have to have something physical that equaled the mental expenditure, usually took it out dancing in Las Vegas, from midnight to dawn . . . Miles, does that for me. He has this sophisticated thugness about him, he sneaks up to my back door, after smoking a cigarette, and in the rain, black hoody, comes around the back of the house I was staying at, like a boyfriend your parents don't like, and grabs my waiting ass, pulling Little Red Riding Hood into the arms and mouth of the Big Bad Wolf . . . LOL, and I loved it . . . walking hand in hand over to where he is staying, sex first thing, no words, just directions, positions, getting the real reason both of us are there, done first, Saturday morning fights next . . . sexual tensions, racial tension, age frustration, love frustration, taboo relationship . . . it's you that I need . . . come back . . . TEDDY! Stop the misery . . . how could you do this to me, holding on to a memory . . . it is you that I need, baby, it is you that I need . . . words to the song, baby, it's you that I need . . .
Don't listen to music while writing a blog, it's you that I need, baby, baby, it's you that I need, things are going to be right, . . . can't you see that I need you! I really got to have you . . . it was all that fucking texting, I fell in love with him, before I really even knew him, the damage was done, now I am crying over him . . . what the hell, the head has always ruled the body for me, so whatever combination Miles and I have, can we try, love was never formed to say good bye . . . can't we have another try . . . song! In case I don't get to see you again, I wish you well, but can't we give it one more try . . . at least we'll have an honest moment here, in all the pain, and lay your head down on my heart . . . we can't go back to yesterday, God I wish you'd stay, can we start, love was never born to say good bye, touch me one more time to make me feel alive . . . just another helpless fool in love . . . once before I set you free, just one more time before i set you free, touch me one more time . . . and if we don't survive, we can end the way we began . . . let's go back to yesterday! Just another helpless fool in love, that is what I am . . . I've got to have you . . . love was never born to say good bye!
Shit, tears all over my face, make-up down my face . . . now, I have been up to see Miles, at least 5 times, usually on the spur of the moment, but I have only actually been with him for three times, and not for long. So, I always figure, that a man's treasure is where his heart is . . . and, until, three days ago, I figured Miles heart was not with me . . . and then he calls me and tells me he got a girl pregnant, so I am not sure what to think, he says he has to see me, and I owe him . . . I am not sure how he figures . . . other than I always take off, like I did last time, and ditched my cell phone, losing Mile's phone number, at the time on purpose, but then regret it latter . . . then frantically trying to find it!
Miles is even willing to come to me this time . . . but, the baby thing, makes me wonder, is this a test of some sort? Given the fact that there is somewhere between 20 years difference in our ages, which is what pissed him off last time, we fought, added to the sickness, and self-righteous comments, I am not sure where we are? I told him I would call him the day after we talked, but didn't . . . am I breaking up a family, will not do that. He said he was shocked, and I always thought he should have a baby, I am beyond that point, so, what does this mean--he says he is dedicated to be a father, and she is to being a mother, but family? My moral side, says to not call him and just let this love die a slow death, now I am crying again . . . I thought this thing was over, but obviously not.
We really have never been settled, enough to actually really get to know each other, or appreciate each other, just let happen what happens . . . we always have the legal help thing that gets us together, the bait and hook, or is it the real reason, use and abuse? Who know? I know that I always pull the age card, or the attorney card, and that kind of kills the heart, but then he always uses that to get with me, is the sex just a hook for me, and an obligation for him. I told him when I met him that he didn't need to sleep with his boss, so to say, or do that to get my legal help . . . he assured me he wanted to sleep with his boss! I don't think either one of us, knows what the hell this relationship is, basically, cutting edge to tell the truth! In every way. My point . . .
Make Love, Not War!
P.S. Culinary Institute of Arts (CIA), and the Nasty Sex Agents (NSA), will not turn on the spell check, jealous, jealous, jealous . . . could have been you, I am an easy lover . . . oh, I tricked them, and when I went into draft, the spell check came on, thank goodness!
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