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In: Uncategorized

We have our car. Finally. In case you haven’t followed this particular saga, here’s a quick recap: A couple of weeks ago, Mrs. Lion wanted to run an errand. When she tried to unlock the car, nothing happened. The care is a 2023 Hyundai Tucson plug-in hybrid. It’s all electronic. The car was completely dead. No big deal, right? Well, it is. The parking brake and gear shift are electronic. No power and all of the wheels are locked. We called Hyundai Road Service, and they sent a flatbed.

The flatbed driver couldn’t get the car on his truck because the car’s wheels were locked. Duh! They sent a different truck to put a dolly under the front wheels and lift the back. The driver couldn’t figure out how to do it. Hyundai kept us waiting over 24 more hours until they said it was our problem and WE had to find a tow. It took me five minutes to do that. We had to call several dealers before we could find one willing to take the car.

This is where things got interesting. It turns out that someone published a trick on how to steal Hyundais and Kias that use ignition keys. As a result, all of the area dealers have full service parking lots of cars with broken ignition locks. I had to growl at the dealer who sold us our car to get him to agree to take it. More growling got me to the front of the repair line.

OK, that’s the story. We got the car back last Friday. It turned out that the 12-volt battery was a brick. Our car doesn’t have a conventional lead-acid battery. It uses a Lithium battery for 12 volts. That battery shut itself down. When the dealer replaced it, the car came back to life.

Happy ending, right?

Nope.

Hyundai brags about its wonderful warranty. We bought their extended warranty which is supposed to give us ten blissful years. We are only in year one. The car has 2500 miles on it. We also have their Blue Link service, which includes roadside service. Hyundai is supposed to tow the car and then pay for a rental replacement during repairs. They are also supposed to pay for Uber rides to the car rental place and from the car rental place to the dealer to pick up the repaired car.

Hyundai agreed to pay for the tow and the car rental, but insisted they would only pay $30 for each Uber ride. Whoa there Nelly! The Uber from our house to the car rental company cost over $40. The ride from the car rental place to the dealer cost $125. “Tough shit,” said Hyundai’s customer service case manager. They would only authorize $30 a trip.

Nuh Uh!

After all of this shit, I wasn’t going to let that bunch of Korean robbers fuck me over.  Nope, nope, nope. I went online (Don’t ya just love the Internet) and filed a small claims lawsuit against them. I tacked on $500 to compensate us for all the trouble and grief they caused.

In case you wondered, any company that does business in your state has to give an address for legal service. If the company won’t tell you what it is (Hyundai did tell me), your state attorney general’s website probably offers a search for that information.

As of now, the car is still working, and we’re waiting for the papers we need to get from the court to send to Hyundai.

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In: Uncategorized, Sex

The Internet has spawned some very odd kinks. One of the strangest (to me) is the “tribute picture.” This is a photo of a print of another photo, usually a naked woman, with fresh ejaculate on it also showing a man’s dripping penis. Yuck! Well, as I understand it, this started as unsolicited, gross spam that men sent to women on various social media. It’s an escalation of the dick-pic.

I figured that getting images like this would be a good reason to stop accepting private messages. I know about this because some men (or their women targets) repost these images on Twitter and other media. To my enormous surprise, I saw this tweet the other day.

She was disappointed that no one had sent her the requested image. I’m pretty sure that masturbating on a picture and then sending an image of the result is definitely an internet phenom. It surprises me that what started as disgusting internet spam is becoming an erotic expression of appreciation.

I think I get it. In one sense, it’s visual garbage. Not many women like looking at spilled semen. But in another way, it’s something of value. Most men have a limited supply of semen. After we pass thirty, our ability to recharge and ejaculate again escalates from minutes to hours. As we age, it grows to days. So, sending visual proof of ejaculation is a way of saying that the woman whose picture received the gift is worth losing the ability to orgasm for a period of time. It also visually proves that her picture turns him on.

There aren’t many ways for an inarticulate man to let a woman know she is arousing if he is restricted to the Internet. The tried-and-true way is to send a picture of his erection, the classic dick-pic. This image isn’t personalized for the recipient. The same image can (and probably is) be sent to many women. The tribute picture is a one-woman-only statement of sexual attraction. It’s personalized and has a real cost to the sender. The fact that the subject matter isn’t particularly pleasing can be overlooked.

I’ve never been tempted to provide “tribute” to anyone online. The idea doesn’t appeal to me. Sure, it shows sexual attraction in an extremely graphic and personal way, but it doesn’t show the feelings that generate the arousal. In the case of the tweet above, is the message being sent that seeing a nice ass makes me hard and want to ejaculate? A puddle of semen on the picture of her butt doesn’t suggest he wants to hold her or give her pleasure. He’s saying, “Just show me  your ass, and I’ll come for you.”

There may be a different kind of currency involved. Maybe the woman wants sexual payment for her taking the trouble to show her body on Twitter. Maybe a couple of semen puddles will make her feel appreciated. I can see that. It’s always nice to be appreciated.

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In: Uncategorized, Lion's Journal

I haven’t written any fiction since March. The avalanche of rejections got to me. All those agents can’t be wrong. Can they? Some people say that if you are truly a writer, you will write no matter what. Maybe I’m not really a writer. The lack of interest in my writing suggests that I may be delusional.

The other day, I had a thought. Maybe the problem is that I’m trying to write commercial fiction that neatly fits into a genre I like to read. I’ve been told that my writing has a good voice. Maybe, just maybe, that voice had nothing to say. I like light mysteries with quirky characters. I like female protagonists. That’s what I wrote.

I got feedback from one editor.

She said that I had the wrong protagonist. She thought that if I made one of my male characters the protagonist, the manuscript would be more marketable. I hated that idea when I read it. She had a point. The market is flooded with cute, quirky female detectives. I don’t need to create a protagonist who turns me on. I need to use my voice to reflect me, not someone I’m attracted to.

Many years ago, I had a great late-night snack with a famous sci-fi author. I asked him about his approach to writing. He said, “Never get sucked into your story. Stay above it and consciously create the emotions you want your readers to feel.” Oh, yeah. Those were profound words.

Consider what you read on the Web. Most of the kinky fiction is created by people who write what arouses them. The words describe physical activities and resulting emotional reactions. The appeal is limited to the people who also get turned on by the same things. It’s not a bad formula for a narrow market, but it is self-limited by the author’s involvement in the story.

What if I write something in my voice?

What if I call on my real-life experiences to drive a male character in a plot I design to involve reader without worrying about fitting my favorite genre? What will happen if nobody wants to buy that story? That’s the scary question. So far, I’ve written stories and created characters that I like, but don’t represent me. What happens if I invest myself and reflect who I am in my protagonist? Scary.

Some people say I should self-publish my work. the problem with that is I have no clue how to let the world know the book exists. Worse, if I self-publish something and then decide to go through traditional publishing on my next work, the agents and editors will judge my marketability on how well my self-published book sold. Since I know that I can’t promote a book I publish myself, chances are very good I won’t sell more than a few hundred copies. Not a good reference on my resume.

That’s what has kept me sending my query letters to agents. I’ve decided to start writing again. This time it will be my male voice. Maybe someone will want to buy this attempt.

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In: Uncategorized

We had liftoff! Friday, after Mrs. Lion finished work, I showered, and I gave myself a .35 ml Trimix injection. Within ten minutes, things started happening. I was getting hard! Wow! It was a turn-on feeling my penis start to inflate. My erection wasn’t a full woody, but it was still nice. I wasn’t hard enough to fuck, but that didn’t stop Mrs. Lion. She went to work with her mouth, and within fifteen minutes, I had a nice orgasm.

It had been eleven days since my last ejaculation. This time, there wasn’t as much semen. It felt wonderful. My penis remained partially hard for about two hours. It bent easily, so there was no risk of damage, no matter how long it stayed that way. I think I am getting close to the best dose of the drug. Next time I’ll go to .40 ml. The goal is an insertion-ready boner for at least a half hour.

Mrs. Lion pointed out that even at the current level, I was OK. I disagree. Anyway, the end is near. Thanks to medical science I will be able to be ridden again. The injection didn’t hurt at all. I’ve stopped using the Inject-Ease. It’s too difficult for me to position correctly. The needle is so thin that it is painless. Trimix is an excellent way to get back into action.

We haven’t discussed how this new routine will affect our play. If I need .40 ml of Trimix per boner, I will get about twelve from the 5 ml vial. That comes out to about $10 each. Compared with the boner pills (Viagra and Cialis), which are now available as inexpensive generics, this is expensive. Teasing sessions might be too expensive to continue. We can afford a boner every week-t0-ten-days. Mrs. Lion may need to figure out how to manage sex inside this schedule.

It’s likely that my erections will last at least an hour, plenty of time for BDSM or other activities. Of course, Spankardy, Zapardy, and other games don’t require boners to play. We just have to get back to being more playful. Mrs. Lion’s shoulder has been bothering her, and that doesn’t make it easy for her to be playful.

We’ll have to figure out how we can restore our more playful lifestyle. I’m happy that sex is no longer a problem.