Helmet's Blogapalooza

Guest Post "To pee or not to pee?" By Mel

2008-08-27T09:00:00-06:00

Oh how time flies as this is the 69^th post of the Blogapalooza. Before I get too nostalgic I would like to introduce Mel of “Life, Liberty & Pursuit of Your Boyfriend”. This will be the last guest post for a week or two so drink it up. A poor choice of words for the forthcoming topic, but it still made me smile. Considering where she comes from I’m thrilled she didn’t write about the Cleveland steamer. If you dont know...you don't want to...trust me

To pee or not to pee?

Hey there, people of the Midwest and beyond, I’m Mellie Mel, your designated pervert of the day from Cleveland and my own little place on the internet: Life, Liberty & Pursuit of Your Boyfriend. I may do some crazy things to get my man (and subsequently write about those trials on my own blog), but sometimes guys, well, your penis is just too much for me.

I hear that Helmey ~~pervs~~ err, fans have apparently taken a liking to stories about peeing (so says the man in charge), so I had to recount a story about a guy I dated years ago that wanted me to pee on him. Yes, on him. I'm pretty sure he also wanted me to wear a diaper, but they weren't totally trendy until 2001.

I mean, I had a guy pee the bed next to me once and completely deny it. Well, more or less avoid it by rolling all the hotel sheets and comforter up into a ball ready-and-waiting for hotel housekeeping. He was 28 years old. Even though he was excessively drunk, it was still kind of creepy in that "did he just do what I think" kind of way. But I digress...

Before this integral moment of my 20s, "watersports" defined something completely different. You know, like diving or maybe jet-skiing and possibly peeing in the pool. With the advent of the internet, pissing and peeing websites bring together purveyors of "pee play" and garners of "golden showers." And who knew that even pissing your pants in public could bring on the perverts?

After a few experimental sex sessions with my guy purportedly leading up to said pissing sequence, I became very nervous. Sort of like the times when you're standing around at crowded urinals and experience a serious sweating bout of performance anxiety… Oh, just me then?

And while I'm all for being dominant over men with your garden-variety knots and whips, there was just something about this fetish that still disturbs me. Urolagnia (looking much like the letters of vagina, but that's just my perverseness coming into play) is the term used to describe sexual fetishes involving urine or urination. Then you have urophagia, where peeps actually want to drink it in.

I mean, I can't even understand how people can drink piss beer, let alone actual piss.

While I’m not sure where exactly this ex-boyfriend wanted my piss to flow, I couldn't perform, and I missed probably my one opportunity where I could pee while standing up.

Certainly not to be outdone, weeks later he pissed on me in the shower and somehow thought this was funny. I found it neither funny nor sexually satisfying. In fact, I'm pretty sure we never had sex again.

Good Night Shyamalan...

2008-08-26T08:30:00-06:00

I’m thinking there is a good chance that this post is going to be a huge waste of time. The reason I put that out there is that I don’t believe anyone will read this. Not just because it’s a shitty ass blog that no one likes, but another, far scarier reason. Take my hand…

For that past few days I have noticed Brandy has been completely ignoring me. I have grown pretty much accustomed to being disregarded occasionally. You see being Brandy ignored is typically reserved for when I’m being funny, or at least think I am. Lately its been complete and total indiscriminate ignoredness (new Helmey word) across the board. It seems every time I ask or tell her something that I get zero response. I raise my voice and say it again…still nothing. It’s not like I’m yelling at her while she’s upstairs. I’m speaking to her in the same room from just a few feet away. This is bullshit and I have a theory (shocker).

Remember when we met up with Kel, Doni, Sarah, and Summeron Friday night? Have you seen the "Sixth Sense" movie? I think they got together with Brandy and actually killed me with my own viagra/roofies and/or a candlestick. Apparently I refuse to go on to the celestial kingdom and just hang out invisible to everyone, kicking it old school, cause it's how I roll. The only differences between the movie and my situation are that I’m way prettier than Bruce Willis, I wouldn’t talk to Haley Joel Osment even if he was the only one that could see and hear me, and my wife isn’t sad…at all…

This sucks ass…I guess I’m just going to have to blog haunt you from Carol Ann’s TV from now on…I’m heeere…whatever…

Before I take off and go get my poltergeist on, I guess I can throw out a political sentiment due to the fact I’m ghost posting and no one can get fucked off at me. Those John McCain commercials about Barack being the biggest celebrity in the world are really pissing me off. Helmey is the biggest celebrity in the world…Barack is the runner up…recognize

Helmey takes on relationship advice…

2008-08-25T09:48:19-06:00

I wasn’t planning on redirecting you to another guest post so soon; however it seems Mel is having technical difficulties and needed to put up my guest post a bit early. So let’s all take a field trip to Mel’s blog and get our comment on...

blogk party...

2008-08-23T10:53:09-06:00

Last night I had the opportunity to meet some awesome bloggers in person. I have to admit I was initially a tiny bit apprehensive as they could have been zombie nation assassins sent to destroy me. Fortunately this was not the case. Let me tell you how awesome it was explaining to Brandy that we were going to a bar to meet some internet strangers (She doesn’t get this blog thing but she’s coming around). However she was a good sport and ended up having a good time. Correction, we both had a good time and I would like to thank both thank Doni and Kel for the invite. We also met local bloggers Sarah and Summer and a slew of their pals. Everyone was cool but I’m going to take credit for that. Considering it was the first time I met any of these people in person, I wasn’t sure how they would react to my awesomeness. As a precautionary measure I slipped everyone a roofie. Sadly the roofie store was out of regular roofies so I had to get the new roofie / viagra hybrid. Kel was most appreciative as she figured the time release roofie would help he on her long drive back the So-Cal. I just hope she doesn’t pop a girl boner that lasts over 4 hours.

By the way this is going to be your best day ever. Why you ask? It’s the first two for one Helm posts in a day, day. My guest post is up on the Word Perv page so go check it out if you will. Thanks Courtney!

Guest Blogger Courtney of "Word Perv" Daisy Wins...

2008-08-22T09:49:04-06:00

Hello my pretties. I got a decent response from my last post regarding guest blogging. I did find it funny that I got less than half the comments as I normally do. I can only assume that most of you were afraid to comment thinking I might hijack your blog and fuck it up so bad no one would ever come back. However I did have 5 brave souls that will be blog swapping with me over the next little bit.

This first post is from Courtney of the world famous “Word Perv” blog. I sent her a guest post for her blog if she decides it’s not too shitty to post. So without further ado…

Daisy Wins

Hello all you Hemet-devotees! It’s Courtney from Word Perv. Never fear if you haven’t heard of me. You will soon enough, for you see, I am destined for greatness. After all, it was Laurel Thatcher Ulrich who stated, “Well behaved women rarely make history.” Well dear readers, I am misbehaved enough to know that clearly, I’m gonna go down in history.

At first I was unsure what to write about for my guest post on Helmet’s blog. After all, he’s the world’s first Ninja-Pirate and a person just doesn’t really know where to go from there. He also has a penchant for talking about peeing and I’m not even sure I want to touch that one. Correction: I definitely do not want to touch that one. I’m not that kind of pervert. Please people, you can have your kinky fetishes, but that’s not one of mine. I’m more of a handcuff kind of girl. Oh, and you’re welcome Helmet. Those last couple of sentences just pulled in new readers who googled “peeing fetish” and “handcuff fetish” and found your website. You can thank me by buying me a beer when I visit and crash at your place. Now, enough talk of sexual deviance and onto my post!!

As you all know Helmet lives in the wonderful state of Utah. It is a state I would love to visit, but only in the summer. I am originally from a land of snow and cold and more snow and even more cold so I don’t have a fondness of it. I like the warmer temps when I can go running outside without wearing 16 layers of clothes and still freezing my skinny little thighs off. Perhaps I just need a male running partner to help me with my frozen body parts. Any volunteers?...

Anyway, moving on (damn I’m getting sidetracked a lot in the post! That’s what I get for throwing sexual references in every paragraph!!). UTAH. Helmey lives in Utah. And when we think of Utah what is the very first thing that EVERYONE thinks of? Yep, Mormons.

I love Mormons. Well, not really. They annoy the piss out of me. But I can appreciate their strange dedication to the belief that going door-to-door in an attempt to recruit people to their religion will get them into whatever their version of heaven may be. My version has me and Angelina and Brad (minus the kids!) and a huge bed with chocolate syrup on the side, but people this is not a posting all about sex! Because if it were I’d disclose my desire to have really dirty sex with Eminem. *Ahem* Moving on people, moving on…

So Mormons. Back to the topic of this damn meandering post!! I recently moved and have relocated to a lovely city in Northern Virginia. For those not familiar this is right outside of Washington DC. I live in one of the up-and-coming sections of my city in the greater-DC area. And apparently the Mormons believe my neighborhood is chockfull of heathens just waiting to be saved. They are, of course, correct.

Every day while I’m out walking Daisy the wonderdog I see them in their crisp white shirts (short sleeve button-ups of course!) and skinny black ties, Bibles tucked under their arms as they walk door to door, harassing all my English as a second language ~~Mexican~~ South American neighbors. I knew it was only a matter of time before they found my door. I knew they would take one look at the Buddha statue that sits on my front step and be even more determined than before to convert me to their god.

The knock came around 5:30pm one evening. I wouldn’t have even heard it except Daisy let out a loud bark and alerted me to the presence of someone outside. While she often barks in the middle of the night at unseen intruders this time there actually was someone outside.

I pulled the door open and immediately regretted it, for standing there were two young, fresh faced boys, all smiles and dimples, ready to save me with god’s good word. And then a great thing happened. The fur on Daisy’s back stood up and her jowls raised and she let out a low growl followed by a sharp bark. I looked at them, shook my head, pointed to my dog and said, “No thank you.”

To my surprise they smiled and turned, walking away and heading toward my neighbor’s front door. As soon as they were out the front gate I let Daisy out the door and my beautiful, gentle little beagle continued to growl and bark at them until they were out of her sight. Oh yes dear readers, I love my dog, for a million reasons. Including her ability to keep the Mormons at bay!