I am waiting for a certain friend in Victoria to make me some Anzac biscuits , or cookies as Americans insist on calling them. Americans shouldn't really make them, but I will make an exception as she will be a Fair Dinkum Aussie soon and thus the instant expectation will fall upon her, so I will give her the opportunity to get some practice in beforehand.
At 66 years, a yummy Anzac biscuit in my mouth is the closest thing to an orgasm for me and there is just as much licking up the crumbs as licking up the other stuff.
Only Aussies and Kiwis normally have the natural savvy to make them

my wife is going to visit our son next week in Cambodia, so I will be batching for two weeks, I looked up a recipe for Anzac biscuits on the net, I have bought the ingredients and will make a few batches.
Anzac biscuits are my absolute favourite, but a quarter of the ingredients is sugar, so I must be careful with my intake, say one a day. Americans would call them oatmeal cookies, but they are far better than that.
I bought three kilos of snags for dinner with egg and tomato and a two litre bottle of tomato sauce (ketchup for the Americans)
So oats for breakfast, salad sanga for lunch, snags for dinner and Anzac biscuits for in betweens.
Simple!!

My wife made some Chilli pickles about five or six years ago and put them away in the cupboard, so we had imli rice (tammarind rice) for dinner last night ans so to spice it up, I dug out this jar of Chilli pickle.
Holy shit! was it fuckin hot or what!! but after the first serving of it, I had seconds and had even more chilli and it becomes like a self dare to see if you can stand the heat. Perhaps it is a bit like self flaggilation, a bit like self torture, but no secret word to say enough!!
I had two slices of toast before I went to bed, then enjoyed the chillis again at 2.30am on their way out. Yet the burning sensation only fuelled the urge to eat more tonight for dinner, which was a bit difficult as I ate out being incoming president of our service club, so a smear of chilli on roast beef and veges was more of a challenge; somehow you could compare it to bungi jumping. Would that make me a domme, a sub or a slave? Maybe just a stupid old bastard?

Whilst I was writing a blog on another site, i had a sudden flash of genius about an age old problem of the toilet seat - rip the bastard off! You don't need it! men and women can get a 10+ thrill out of sitting on the icy cold porcelain in the middle of winter, God help us, you would almost have an instant orgasm sitting on that icy cold ring of pottery. How many men and women like to be whipped and tied up just to get a thrill and we all know that the distance between pain and exstacy is almost minimal, so instead of yelling at your partner for not putting the seat down, just the soft moaning of an excited woman (like a cow in labour) would do much more for a man than having his ear bitten off! Who knows, you might finish up having a fuck on the toilet pan

A University Professor stated yesterday that PMS is largely in the head and is mainly stress and can be cured with rest and relaxation or a good holiday.
At the same time, another acedemic has said that sex relieves migraines, so if you want to prevent stress related migraines, have a good fuck beforehand, so if we join both theories together it would mean that a good fuck daily or multiple fucks daily would not only ward off headachhes and also PMS
Think about it and even if it doesn't work, you certainly won't get a hangover from it anyway.
FOOTNOTE: Both academics are women

Today my wife and I celebrated 37 years of marriage, we just had a quiet night at our younger daughters home, she supplied dinner, or actually Mr Nando did (extra hot).We had a very pleasant evening together and I thought of all the perseverence my poor wife must have being married to me for so long; it definitely hasn't been a bed of roses for her, but I am intensely proud of the fact she has stuck with me through good times and bad.

If it is good enough for Straw, JuJu and Lunna to have Hump day on a Wednesday, and Commando Day on a Friday, why can't I have Fat Arse Day on a Monday? I have either sat at the computer or lay down in bed all day, except fot heating up pig soup in the microwave (ie vege soup with bacon bones)
I do have to shut down a community service project tonight and that will take about three hours but it has been cold all day. This morning it was just 2deg celsius at 4am and warmed up to 9 deg when I had a shower at 10am. God, help us! talk about global warming, this is global freezing!
Nothing pisses me off more than reading blogs about Canada, America (especially Peurto Rico) and even Austria about the warm weather and people swimming and even skinny dipping! god I hate that , especially when I am freezing my arse off in this cold weather. My brain shuts down at 5 deg celsius. I currently am wearing a muscle top, a flanno shirt and a parka on the top and a pair of undies and brushed thick trackie pants and I still have a frozen arse ... and the air-con? it is on full blast
I want to go see Lunna!!!

Why is it that when I wash the pots and pans, I always have an audience, being spied on and constantly being told how to wash dishes. When I started to wash dishes there was no such thing as detergent, it was scraps of bath soap, left over or too small to use anymore and we put the scraps in a little gauze box with an attached handle and shook shit out of it in the hot water and then proceeded to wash the dishes.
Well now we have a dishwasher that does the dishes, bet we wash the pots etc by hand, only now we have dishwashing detergent and of coursr this has to be rinsed with clean hot water, so we don't have any poisonous detergent in our next plate of food. So what happened to all the soap I have ingested in the last 66 years?
Well, I believe it has gently washed out my system as I have eaten my food. When I try to explain this to the supervisor standing just three feet away, all hell breaks loose and get told that my stomach is probably made of cast iron anyway and I wouldn't know the difference. Are all women this picky or has my wife really got to know me over the last thirty seven years (20 June)?

no, I am not carrying on from the last blog, I mean the pure and natural smell a man exudes from his well toned body; I know many women who are literally drenched down there after the experience of inhaling the natural aroma of a man. I personally have no recollection of this phenomenom in my life, I only got very hurtful comments like "Go and have a shower, you stink", I always thought that the smell of perspiration was a big turn on for women and it has lately been scientifically proven to be so, together with the smell of musk, which is an equally big turn on for the gentler sex. Whenever I get to smell a woman just out of the shower, all I can smell is Dove Health Bar, the female body is disguised 24 hours a day by man made scents that obliterate the natural aroma of a woman. God, how Adam and Eve must have enjoyed themselves without all that imitation stuff clogging up the pores of the body

is something women must choose to ignore in spite of the glaring facts.
Another problem is the after aroma that women leave behind. After my wife gets out of the toilet frim having a shit, it stinks like she left a dead horse behind! God it is bad, men never stink that bad, and when I complain, I am the worst in the world! It must have something to do with the wife being a vegetarian, all those veges must ferment in her stomach and stink! god, you can see the paint melting off the wall almost and then I get accused of farting, but that only occurs when I do a "dutchie" ie drop one just after I have got under the doona and started to settle down for the night