Everyone has that experience where one first encounters something , doesn't quite like it, but then after a while gets accustomed to it, and even starts to like it.
Well, I never thought that would apply to hugs.

I've recently been introduced to a certain type of hug, that has grown on me in BIG way.
(First person to guess who's behind this one, gets a stick of gum.)

I call it the "Me, man...you, woman!" Hug
It's a one-handed hug where the guy slides his hand around the girl's waist and pulls her body abruptly to his torso with a slight bump, knocking the breath out of her momentarily. It's kind of primal...like how Tarzan might hug Jane.

Try it today!

In my old age I've been doing quite a bit of reminiscing on the good ol' days at secondary school, and I recall with much fondness the "mandatory" P.E. periods.

I absolutely loved the opportunity to exchange my restrictive, uncomfortable uniform tunic, for the cute green shorts and white t-shirt that made up our P.E. uniform. And sneakers were always MILES ahead of regular school shoes in comfort.

It was always beyond me, why so many girls would almost refuse to participate in P.E. sessions, and would make up excuse after excuse to get out of it.

How could they NOT want to slip into something more comfortable, and work off all that extra teenage energy that tends to build up?

I was never much good at sports and athletics, but it was always hilarious to watch the even less physically-coordinated girls trip over the track hurdles, or duck an oncoming tennis ball! And I too, got kixed at.
My only regret was that for some reason you were discouraged from wearing your P.E. duds to regular class...something about it being distracting. Phooey, I say.

They just wanted to keep the kids hot and uncomfortable.

My Birthday Experience:

The whole day was neither here nor there by birthday standards, so by the time darkness fell, I KNEW I had to take matters into my own hands!

I called up the Lanster, and we agreed to meet at Cafe Jungles, for "Coyote Ugly Saturdays".

I strolled into the joint only to be greeted by the bar dancers doin' a hot choreography on and around the bar.
"Wow" I thought "this is my kinda place!" Just then, the MC announced that they needed people to compete in a bar-top dancing competition for a $50 bar tab. I wasn't gonna go up, I swear, but then a bar dancer grabbed my arm and pulled me along.
So there I was, dancing on the bar within 5 minutes of walking in the door. That's gotta be a record.
Unfortunately I didn't win the bar tab, but I'm sure the only reason that guy beat me was becuase he wukked up on the fake tree in the corner of the bar.
I don't use props.

At one point, about 6 guys were up there, shakin' it for the ladies, and you KNOW that made my birthday!

And to end the night on a good note, I got hit on by a British flight attendant named Alex. I didn't even see it coming cuz the first thing he said to me was "I like your swing...can I try it?"...which wouldn't have made sense if I wasn't sitting in the Cafe Jungle swing chair. Believe it or not, for about 5 seconds, I actually thought he was trying to steal my seat. Then I realised he was more interested in my OTHER "seat". *wink*

Slight C.O.T.

I always feel like I'm being watched whenever I dance with white tourist guys. Like if people are shaking their heads and thinking "wha de ass she doin' dancing up on he fuh?"
Maybe I'm imagining things...maybe I'm projecting, since that may be what's in my own subconcious when I see other black Bajan girls doing it.

Not good.