Here is a little eye contact secret from femme to femme.
Here is how the eyes go for femme checking out another femme.
If your cute we will make eye contact and summarize you in one glance.
If your super cute with a good bod, we will look you in the face, look down to your outfit, and if the outfit is worthy...we will travel our eyes to the most important part of the female wardrobe.
ThE shoes.
Now, if your shoes are dead on, we will bring our eyes right back up to your face and give you an overall OK with an expressionless look of approval.
If your shoes do not make the cut..our eyes just drift off in another direction.
Its a silent language that men will never understand and for insecure girls..they will just think they are being dissed.
Sooo...wrong CHicKas!
If a girl disses you..she won't ever look back up.
It is a compliment if a girl take this much time to check you out which in human time is less then 3 seconds.
The BlinDeaD is not blindeD!!
9.08.2013
Flying a Dead BOdy
While researching what must be done to carry my undead body to the European destination for my next job, I encountered the rude way they transport on commercial flights. I am glad I have a first class casket ad and a borrowed G5 for my travels.
Caskets are always put on passenger airplanes. Almost every airline I have dealt with requires the casket be to be with in an airtray. The airtray is always marked with the words HUMAN REMAINS, the persons name, flight number, origin, and destination. Most people are with in caskets, but on a few occasions I have received them in alternate containers. One of the most difficult countries to send a person to is Italy
Amsterdam Airport Schiphol is one of the few airports which has a fully operational mortuary, capable of handling up to 40 bodies. On average the mortuary deals with approximately 2000 bodies per year, about 60 % of which are in repatriation or transit to foreign places of burial and 40% returning to the Netherlands.
I can not use a global mortuary service to ship my remains because they will insist I be embalmed and well...we can't have that.
This is going to be a bit tricky getting to my jet ride when I can not drive myself.
I am sure there are ways, I just know it will be a giant expense out of pocket.
The Blondead is still researching the situation.
Caskets are always put on passenger airplanes. Almost every airline I have dealt with requires the casket be to be with in an airtray. The airtray is always marked with the words HUMAN REMAINS, the persons name, flight number, origin, and destination. Most people are with in caskets, but on a few occasions I have received them in alternate containers. One of the most difficult countries to send a person to is Italy
Amsterdam Airport Schiphol is one of the few airports which has a fully operational mortuary, capable of handling up to 40 bodies. On average the mortuary deals with approximately 2000 bodies per year, about 60 % of which are in repatriation or transit to foreign places of burial and 40% returning to the Netherlands.
I can not use a global mortuary service to ship my remains because they will insist I be embalmed and well...we can't have that.
This is going to be a bit tricky getting to my jet ride when I can not drive myself.
I am sure there are ways, I just know it will be a giant expense out of pocket.
The Blondead is still researching the situation.
9.05.2013
Hotel TransvylManiac
Thank the powers of the dead for allowing me to have a 6 digit balance in the bank. I now have the opportunity to check out some primo hotels while on the lamb from psycho wife.
Why on earth would a woman who found out her husband had a necrophiliac bed romp want to save her marriage and blame the undead?
....And to have the audacity to try and knock down my hotel door?
Apparently this chick has a detective that has been following the hubbie and now following me!
I had to upgrade to a five star ZaZa just to make sure I have ample security.
Meanwhile, I have no address to ship my coffin to. It is ready with some awesome features but I need to find a warehouse before I can test it out. I will try to post pics once I find a place to have it delivered.
So, next week...I will be traveling to Europe to the Czech Republic to have my long awaited super cash cow sexcepade with a Count. I will be flying in a G5 but unfortunately I will be stuck in a luggage compartment. Its fin..I have my souped up Bentley corpse box for the ride.
I have had a day of quiet time and reflection and find the living need to relax and chill about their lives.
Honestly, how would you like to be dead and running around with no morality code to work with since God, heaven and hell are all a no-go?!
Yeah, you are right...
It is kind of awesome....
The BlonDeaD is headed to the club house for cocktails.
Why on earth would a woman who found out her husband had a necrophiliac bed romp want to save her marriage and blame the undead?
....And to have the audacity to try and knock down my hotel door?
Apparently this chick has a detective that has been following the hubbie and now following me!
I had to upgrade to a five star ZaZa just to make sure I have ample security.
Meanwhile, I have no address to ship my coffin to. It is ready with some awesome features but I need to find a warehouse before I can test it out. I will try to post pics once I find a place to have it delivered.
So, next week...I will be traveling to Europe to the Czech Republic to have my long awaited super cash cow sexcepade with a Count. I will be flying in a G5 but unfortunately I will be stuck in a luggage compartment. Its fin..I have my souped up Bentley corpse box for the ride.
I have had a day of quiet time and reflection and find the living need to relax and chill about their lives.
Honestly, how would you like to be dead and running around with no morality code to work with since God, heaven and hell are all a no-go?!
Yeah, you are right...
It is kind of awesome....
The BlonDeaD is headed to the club house for cocktails.
8.24.2013
The Living can not Follow the Dead
...but, the living can follow the undead.
I was followed.
I was discovered.
I have to admit, I was not careful since I thought no one would believe that undead exists but I was mistaken.
At first, I thought I was followed by a random person that overheard the conversation at the W before I granted a $50k sleepover for a wealthy man into necrophilia scenarios.
But how stupid of me to think that anyone outside the scientific world would grasp such a thing.
No.
No.
No.
This man has been tracking me for more than 10 years.
10 years I have been ordering plasma from a company in Europe and he is a scientist in their development program; a program that harvests and regenerates skin from stem cells. He has watched my every move.
And its only now since I have left my life behind that he took his chance. He made his move. He pulled out his queen.
Brilliant move on his part if you think about. He would be an awesome opponent at chess. For someone to wait carefully before ever pulling out their queen like this, well not to be redundant but nothing short of brilliant.
Patience is a virtue that always pays the most.
When I stopped ordering plasma last year and started ordering under a pseudonym that is when he knew that I am beyond pretending that I am normal and human.
He had me without me knowing he had me.
Until....
He found a way to subdue me and when I awoke I was duct taped to the window in the previous post.
He took a steak knife and struck hard and fast straight through me.
I felt something. Perhaps it was pain or just the memory of what pain felt like when I hurt myself when I was alive. For whatever reason, I felt something and every part of my body quivered in such a ravenous way that I fell to the floor and let out a muffled howling like no one had ever heard.
Imagine being hit so hard in the chest that you can no longer bring in air. That is what it felt like. I only know this feeling because when I was little, I climbed a tree and hung from a tree branch with my legs wrapped around and my hands holding on and my head dangling and smiling.
The tree branch broke and fell 2 stories along with my body. I fell flat on my back and had the breathe whipped right out of me. I could not breathe back in. I remember my Mother running toward me screaming and then all went dark.
Nothing went dark this time but my body hung in a state of perpetual motionless while he taped me up and took pictures of me while watching me heal. It is not like in the movies. You do not heal in a fifteen minute segment. And I needed the plasma to bathe in before I scarred.
I kept motionless hoping he would leave and give me a chance to get away.
And then my chance came and I took it.
I hid away as he came back and I took him over and tied him with the same duct tape he used on me. I was going to cut him inside and out. I wanted to hate him and hurt him but then I thought...
Here is the one person who knows about me and how my cells work to keep me in a perpetual state of undead.
He will be my wing man.
Expose me and he gains nothing.
Exploit me and he can amass the same fortune as I.
We are currently in negotiations but I am certain he can not last as long as I can duct taped to a window without food and water.
I am sure he will see things my way or he will see things the way the dead do.....
Meanwhile, I bathe in the plasma and let my wound heal.
The Blondead will never follow the living again!!
I was followed.
I was discovered.
I have to admit, I was not careful since I thought no one would believe that undead exists but I was mistaken.
At first, I thought I was followed by a random person that overheard the conversation at the W before I granted a $50k sleepover for a wealthy man into necrophilia scenarios.
But how stupid of me to think that anyone outside the scientific world would grasp such a thing.
No.
No.
No.
This man has been tracking me for more than 10 years.
10 years I have been ordering plasma from a company in Europe and he is a scientist in their development program; a program that harvests and regenerates skin from stem cells. He has watched my every move.
And its only now since I have left my life behind that he took his chance. He made his move. He pulled out his queen.
Brilliant move on his part if you think about. He would be an awesome opponent at chess. For someone to wait carefully before ever pulling out their queen like this, well not to be redundant but nothing short of brilliant.
Patience is a virtue that always pays the most.
When I stopped ordering plasma last year and started ordering under a pseudonym that is when he knew that I am beyond pretending that I am normal and human.
He had me without me knowing he had me.
Until....
He found a way to subdue me and when I awoke I was duct taped to the window in the previous post.
He took a steak knife and struck hard and fast straight through me.
I felt something. Perhaps it was pain or just the memory of what pain felt like when I hurt myself when I was alive. For whatever reason, I felt something and every part of my body quivered in such a ravenous way that I fell to the floor and let out a muffled howling like no one had ever heard.
Imagine being hit so hard in the chest that you can no longer bring in air. That is what it felt like. I only know this feeling because when I was little, I climbed a tree and hung from a tree branch with my legs wrapped around and my hands holding on and my head dangling and smiling.
The tree branch broke and fell 2 stories along with my body. I fell flat on my back and had the breathe whipped right out of me. I could not breathe back in. I remember my Mother running toward me screaming and then all went dark.
Nothing went dark this time but my body hung in a state of perpetual motionless while he taped me up and took pictures of me while watching me heal. It is not like in the movies. You do not heal in a fifteen minute segment. And I needed the plasma to bathe in before I scarred.
I kept motionless hoping he would leave and give me a chance to get away.
And then my chance came and I took it.
I hid away as he came back and I took him over and tied him with the same duct tape he used on me. I was going to cut him inside and out. I wanted to hate him and hurt him but then I thought...
Here is the one person who knows about me and how my cells work to keep me in a perpetual state of undead.
He will be my wing man.
Expose me and he gains nothing.
Exploit me and he can amass the same fortune as I.
We are currently in negotiations but I am certain he can not last as long as I can duct taped to a window without food and water.
I am sure he will see things my way or he will see things the way the dead do.....
Meanwhile, I bathe in the plasma and let my wound heal.
The Blondead will never follow the living again!!
7.20.2013
Prejudice runs A Muck Everywhere
When I was a little girl growing up in North Carolina, our elementary class went on a field trip to an art museum. There was one piece of art that stuck out in my mind and has been placed in my memory forever.
I long since forgotten who painted it but I remember it was a political painting because my teacher told us it was. At the ripe old age of 7, I would not have known its meaning nor the impact it was meant to have until now.
Trayvon Martin unlocked this memory for me.
The painting was of a Carolina shoreline with a giant ocean rippling on through and there were words painted on the sky above on a ribbon saying, "Swim Back to Africa".
When you looked in the ocean, in the painting, there were many black men swimming out to sea with a white man under each of their arms trying to swim back to Africa. I understood they would not make the journey and I understood that two white men would drown with them.
I stared and stared at that painting. I knew I liked it, I actually loved it but not for the reason you think.
My Mother and Father are from other countries and I grew up being called a pollok and a natzi. Again, I was too young to understand what that meant but I knew enough to kick someone in the balls when they said it.
I ended up in the Principal's office a few times regarding that particular issue.
I was pleased with myself each time I did. The Principal, a wonderful man who happened to be black, understood and so my penalty was a simple, "try not to do it again." I love the fact that he said 'try not' because it left me open to defend myself.
I loved that painting, not because the black man would drown but because the white men would. I was sad for the black man but held no sympathy for the white ones.
I was bullied by anglos...and I was white, just not the right white.
This "Stand Your Ground" law is fine if someone is coming after you. I go to a university that has someone robbed at gunpoint for their smart phone, so I am all about stand your ground, but... to follow a person and provoke a fight in which you begin to loose and then shoot them...that is not standing your ground. You left your ground and walked over someone elses right to feel safe.
I believe in defending myself against others but I do not carry a gun because the weight of having to use it would haunt me.
I prefer a taser...
Ziiitttt.
ZZZZiiiitttt
Oh, do not try and get up, fool!
ZZZi.Zi
.ZZZiIziIzzziz
I said don't get up.
In the end, I would want them to get up, preferably in handcuffs and knowing I thwarted an attack without killing anyone.
Stand your ground on your own turf but do not go looking for a fight you can not win and then shoot to kill.
Politicians do that and they have the aftermath on their shoulders.
The general public need not follow in their stupidity.
The Blonde
I long since forgotten who painted it but I remember it was a political painting because my teacher told us it was. At the ripe old age of 7, I would not have known its meaning nor the impact it was meant to have until now.
Trayvon Martin unlocked this memory for me.
The painting was of a Carolina shoreline with a giant ocean rippling on through and there were words painted on the sky above on a ribbon saying, "Swim Back to Africa".
When you looked in the ocean, in the painting, there were many black men swimming out to sea with a white man under each of their arms trying to swim back to Africa. I understood they would not make the journey and I understood that two white men would drown with them.
I stared and stared at that painting. I knew I liked it, I actually loved it but not for the reason you think.
My Mother and Father are from other countries and I grew up being called a pollok and a natzi. Again, I was too young to understand what that meant but I knew enough to kick someone in the balls when they said it.
I ended up in the Principal's office a few times regarding that particular issue.
I was pleased with myself each time I did. The Principal, a wonderful man who happened to be black, understood and so my penalty was a simple, "try not to do it again." I love the fact that he said 'try not' because it left me open to defend myself.
I loved that painting, not because the black man would drown but because the white men would. I was sad for the black man but held no sympathy for the white ones.
I was bullied by anglos...and I was white, just not the right white.
This "Stand Your Ground" law is fine if someone is coming after you. I go to a university that has someone robbed at gunpoint for their smart phone, so I am all about stand your ground, but... to follow a person and provoke a fight in which you begin to loose and then shoot them...that is not standing your ground. You left your ground and walked over someone elses right to feel safe.
I believe in defending myself against others but I do not carry a gun because the weight of having to use it would haunt me.
I prefer a taser...
Ziiitttt.
ZZZZiiiitttt
Oh, do not try and get up, fool!
ZZZi.Zi
.ZZZiIziIzzziz
I said don't get up.
In the end, I would want them to get up, preferably in handcuffs and knowing I thwarted an attack without killing anyone.
Stand your ground on your own turf but do not go looking for a fight you can not win and then shoot to kill.
Politicians do that and they have the aftermath on their shoulders.
The general public need not follow in their stupidity.
The Blonde
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