Surf's up! We're riding the anxiety wave!

I know that I am not alone when it comes to being an anxiety-ridden ball of... something for the last few months, so this isn't something uniquely mine. But hear me out...

The last few months have been like riding a giant wave, in a storm. I'm waiting for it to crash down on top of me, or shoot me out the end into calm, blue seas...... and NEITHER of those are fucking happening.

To help me deal with stress and anxiety, I plan. I plan and make plans and then do backup plans... it's one of my little quirks that, thankfully, Lady Bourbon finds amusing... or tolerable. When COVID hit, I planned food. I planned supplies. I planned on how to keep us all indoors and possibly sane. It worked. It gave me something to do for a while. 

But now... fuck me, man.

Half the country is going on like it's not a thing, the other half is still locked in their homes waiting... and I don't know how to plan for that. My kids are supposed to be going back to school in like, what? 3 weeks? Do I send them? Do I keep them home? Do I burn down the school and make it less of an option?! (please note: I would never actually burn down the school unless we were invaded and the invading army was using it as their base of operations... then I'd light that bitch up.) 

Seriously... I'm at the end of my fucking rope on what to do here. Lady Bourbon and I have stayed up many nights talking about what to do and when we start these conversations, and there are too many variables. My brain just starts going, "eeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE." And I sort of black out for a minute.

Then we have "The country" and all its woes... and there are a lot of fucking woes, my friends. We have civil unrest across the board. We have white supremacy on the rise in many areas. Our "leadership" uses openly hostile words, tactics, and rhetoric against our own people and, deep down, I fear we're heading for something bad. And by "bad" I mean anything from armed conflict to massive economic collapse.

So I plan. I planned food, again. I planned money. I planned protection. I planned how to keep me and mine safe and protect in case of the worst-case scenario. It worked and gave me something to do for a while. 

But now... fuck me, man. 

Half the country is still rioting to one extent or another, the other half is on Facebook complaining about or congratulating the first half. Cops are bagging people in the streets, rioters are breaking stuff and pulling down statues... and the online fights are just as awful and nowhere is safe... meaning there is no online refuge. Everyone is an opinion-having monster with no love for anyone. Lady Bourbon and I have stayed up many nights talking about what to do and when we start these conversations, and there are too many variables. So my brain starts going, "eeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE." And I sort of black out for a minute.

And there is my problem... I can only plan so much. At some point, I run out of things to plan and prepare for and I am left feeling the weight of all that anxiety... and man, it sucks. You've probably seen my posts on Bug Out Bags and the like. That's what I've been doing for the last 2 months. 

I need something to happen or I need it all to go away... I can't keep up this level of anxiety and planning day-in and day-out without some sort of payoff one way or the other. Like I said before, I'm trying to surf this wave. I'm still surfing this wave... I'm still waiting for something bad to happen and all of this planning to be worthwhile... or I'll pop out of that tube and find myself in the clear again.

The only good thing to come out of ALL of this - aside from leaving my miserable job with Debbie - is that I now have wonderfully stocked first aid kits. I can treat anything from a kids' tiny boo-boo all the way up to a 9" gash down your forearm that needs compression bandages and staples.... And as fucking cool as that is, it's still not the same as just being calm and going on about my day. 

I'm beginning to not know how to handle all of this shit. I'm running out of plans to be made... You can't plan for everything and there are WAY too many possibilities out there that could happen. I guess I could enhance my "oh, sweet Jesus, it's the end of days" plan... or my "North Korea just launched an EMP at the Midwest" plan... but then those plans cost a lot of money, man. I'm not ready to turn my garage into a Faraday cage just yet.... 

I'm not really sure what the point of this post was. I think I just needed a distraction and to put some stuff down on "paper" per se.  Maybe I'm hoping someone will comment and give me something to think about and talk... Maybe I should just write more and take my mind off it all. Maybe I need to finish my post apocalyptic novel I started in 2005... It's just that this is all messing with my sense of reality. My sense of how things SHOULD be. Now, I think abut how things COULD become and it bothers me...

Ah well... How are you dealing with this? Bug out bags and spare food? Books and coffee? Smoke and a pancake? 

Change in the House of Bourbon

It's been a minute since I last posted on the ole blog... so let's fucking do this thing.

Things have been a little different in the Bourbon household as of late. Lady Bourbon has taken on new work responsibilities that have drastically changed her schedule and the everyday flow in the house.

Which is fine. We still manage and everything flows...

But my day job revolves around scheduling and planning and while I can roll with things like the best of them - I am not taking to this as well as I'd hoped.

Ever seen the Bob's Burgers episode where his landlord, Mr. Fischoeder, wants to pretend Linda and the kids are HIS wife and kids on Thanksgiving? And it should go well, but Bob is the one stuck in the kitchen still working, getting drunk on Absinthe, and wanting things to be normal... but they just aren't?

Yeah... I'm Bob right now. Only without the Absinthe. And without alcohol... and without carbs... It's a lot of things changing all at the same time. And it's rough, man. Really rough.

While Lady Bourbon now gets to spend her afternoon with the kids, she is gone in the mornings. It's just me and the kids prior to school... and it's not a problem. I love the kids. But I miss the adult interaction before I have to go to work and deal with the morons there. So once I've dropped the kids off, I have nothing to do at home, so I've been coming into work early. 9-hour days with another 90 minutes in the car... then I come home to a late dinner at 7:00 in time to TRY to play with the kids when I'm in a decent enough mood to do so before they go to bed at 8 or 8:30.

She's also working at least one day every weekend now... which means it's just me and the kids again for most of the day...

I love my kids - please don't misunderstand - it's just that out of my entire week, I really only see or interact with my kids and people at work. I hate the people at work and love my kids. But I actually spend WAY more time with the people I hate and not the people I love. And the people I hate are so invasive to my life and mental well-being, they imprint so much anger on me and I am often unhappy when I get home. Debbie is really the least of my problems at work. She's an awful human being, but she's nothing compared to my super racist, homophobic GM, the owner who wants to micromanage everyone, and everyone else there with the mentality of a 12 year old... It's infuriating.

I am left with little or no time to decompress outside of my drive home... I have no alone time that isn't in the car to and from work. And my non-work adult interaction time is limited to a few meager hours at night before Lady Bourbon goes to bed before waking up at 5:30 the next morning for her new shift.

I guess I'm just really bitching and whining more than anything. Remember that post I made about wanting to just spend every day stuck in a loop? Well, I feel like I'm still stuck in that loop... but with less Lady Bourbon in it now and less opportunity for my own free time. And I sometimes feel like I am forgetting how to interact with adults.

So, instead of not having the time to have a social life... I now have less of one because Lady Bourbon is slightly less present in my day to day routine.

And it just sucks. Right now - it sucks to be me. And not in some emo bullshit way... I'm just so goddamn lonely. In a world full of people - I just feel fucking alone.

Mark and Emily A @BourbonSex Erotic Short Story

A @BourbonSex Erotic Short Story: Mark and Emily

     The night was finally here. It's something that he'd thought about often. It excited him. It made him anxious. It made him feel very sexy.
     He didn't go all out on his first time. A simple outfit of blouse and skirt with makeup and a pair of his wife's panties.
     The door opened and Mark stepped out into the light. His eyes, rimmed in dark eye-liner, shone in the soft light of the room. Gentle hints of rouge marked his cheeks and his lips were a soft, glossy mauve color. He worked his face into a smile. His hair was done up in a loose configuration of spikes, held out with gel, and his stubble was short and manicured against his chin. He was nervous, but took a deep breath and relaxed. The silk fabric of the shirt he wore felt good against his skin and the warm air circulating and lifting under the black skirt he wore felt good against his legs. His cock was gently stuffed into a pair of silk panties that hugged him everywhere.

     And he loved it.

Triathlon Training - A Guest Post by Matt Herald

Matt Harold is our guest author today.

He is sharing his basics on training to run a triathlon - something I will most likely never do.
You can find Matt on Twitter at @MattHerald

Self described as:

Beer drinker, Bourbon lover, Geocacher, Runner, Triathlete, Father of 3, Husband of 1, Keeper of ALL!

Triathlon Training

A Guest Post by Matt Herald

  Most people think of triathlon and instantly count themselves out.  Don’t worry, I used to do it, too.  But now, I am a triathlete.  Not only do I do triathlons, but I train so that I can be better at them.  And the craziest thing of all is that I enjoy it!  I enjoy the races, the competition, the mental preparation, the physical strain, and the most important part: crossing the finish line!  So what’s it take to train for a triathlon?  Well, it may not be as much as you think.  So here’s a peak into my triathlon training.

Dr. Bourbon On Hookers and Bourbon

Today in Bad Advice with Dr. Bourbon our question comes from "Brian" via Twitter. 

Brian writes:

Dear Doctor B,
I enjoy coffee, and sex is pretty great, but I haven't found a bourbon I like yet. What do you recommend I try first?

-Brian (@briancebuhl)

Dear Brian,

Bourbon is best enjoyed naked. Just throwing that out there before we get started...

It's the nectar of the gods. Enjoyed by kings and paupers alike. Don't listen to the Jack Sparrow wannabes out there that are "Oh, Rum is sooo good." Those assholes don't know what's good for them... That's why they all have scurvy and STDs.

Bourbon on the other hand...

Bourbon is like prostitution. You get what you pay for. Do you want to have a good night, but feel rather awful and potentially dirty in the morning? Then $10 will do it for ya!

Krampusnacht

A @BourbonSex Erotic Fiction - Krampusnacht

It was 7:32 pm on the evening of December 5th and Linda sat in the corner watching the merriment. It was her company and, therefore, her party. But she hated Christmas parties. She was there because she had to be and not because she wanted to be. She wore an elegant black dress with a simple teardrop diamond necklace that drew attention down her lean neck, past her collarbones and into her ample cleavage for all the good it would do her. You just can't fuck the help.

      She was not having a good time.

      The wine was not giving her the blissful lowered inhibitions she’d been wanting. Instead, she sat quietly watching her workers go about their time at the holiday party. She watched Mark from sales flirt with Carol from the call center. Stacy from the reception desk was trying desperately to win the attention of Tim from accounting, but Tim seemed intent on flirting with John from IT.


“If her top gets any more open…” Linda said to herself as she watched.

       "Huh?" Deborah, Linda's personal assistant asked.

       "Stacy." Linda said. "She's throwing herself at Tim. Tim's gay. Tim wants to fuck John in IT." She shook her head. "I swear they're all fucking morons, Deborah."

      "Yes, ma'am." Deborah snapped. "Morons."

      "What about you, Deborah? Who do you want to fuck?"

      "Ma'am?"

       "Oh, come on. It's the holiday party, everyone is happy and drinking. There's got to be someone you'd like to fuck."

       "I am happily married." Deborah said sheepishly.

       "Good answer, Deb! I was happily married too." Linda snapped. "But Stan decided my sexual proclivities were just too much for him." She sighed. "In three weeks, it will be a year since the last time I've gotten laid." She threw back the rest of her wine. "I fucking hate Christmas." She poured a small glass and downed it. "And if momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy, right?"

       "Uh... right?" Deborah agreed weakly. She knew what this meant and she decided to go ahead and ask the question. "Why, if I may ask, do you want to ruin the Christmas party? I mean, it is your company and all..." Deborah's voice grew weaker as she spoke and was barely above a whisper as she trailed off.

       "Bah fucking humbug." Linda said. "That's why."

Sexy Chocolate Cake Recipe - A Guest Post by D. Faust

Today's Guest post is from my twitter friend, D. Faust (@TheSmutGeek). It is a recipe for a sinfully chocolaty cake... and I CANNOT WAIT TO TRY IT!!!

D. Faust is an erotic romance story teller, adult toy and book reviewer, sex blogger, and freelance kink writer. You can find more of her work at www.SmutGeek.com or on Twitter @TheSmutGeek 

Sexy Chocolate Cake Recipe
A Guest Post by D. Faust

I broke the kiss and leaned in to put my lips to my husband’s ear. “We’d better get going.”

Mr. Faust sighed and released his hold on my hips with evident misgivings about ending our impromptu make-out session. “What did you need from the store again?”

I could tell from the tone he was already worrying about trudging through some super store for groceries, an activity he dreaded in general but especially close to the holiday season. Rolling my eyes I went to go get my shoes on. “I just need to hit World Market and grab a beer.”

“A beer?” Mr. Faust asked, running his hand over my ass and outlining my panty lines through my skirt.

“Sticky Toffee Pudding Ale,” I explained with a smirk. Mr. Faust smiled a little as the realization hit him. He knows I only buy that particular beer for one reason.

My Very Sexy Chocolate Cake

I love chocolate and I’m a fan of a moist cake. As a hobby baker, I desired to master my skills in both of these areas. I’m still working on that mastery but I do believe I’ve developed quite the arsenal of recipes over the years and my favorite is this cake recipe.

It began as Guinness chocolate cupcakes I made for a former Mistress. Since then I learned more about cake and tried other beers in boozy baking.

Being honest to yourself.

So... honesty. That's a big thing. But I'm not hear to talk about going to confession or anything like that. I'm here to talk about being honest to yourself. Because, let's face it - that shit is sometimes NOT an easy thing to do.

I started my @BourbonSex account as a way to express the thoughts and desires I have in a somewhat public forum as a way to stop lying to myself.

Let's rewind a bit...

Ever since I was a kid - I've had a thing for sexy things. Maybe I walked in on my parents one too many times, or found my dad's Playboy collection at too early of an age -  don't know. Maybe it was being seduced at 15 by a 22 year old and, I guess technically, being raped by her. Who knows... Point is - It is a part of me.

My family is NOT like me. They talk and joke about sex, but it's more of defense mechanism/macho bravado - much like the guys I all knew in the army. And that's not healthy.

What Dreams May Never Come...

Earlier today I posted a list to my Twitter Feed about the things I've wanted to do but fell short of...

These have been my half-assed dreams as an adult. Things I was 100% passionate about for a week or so until I realized I didn't have the time or money to commit to any of them. They are my dead dreams... for now. I will now go into detail on these dreams and why they've all died....