(hard, 2 points): use three words beginning with the letter "X"
(easy, 1 point): mention one of your favorite novels
Final day to post: Jan.26th, midnight GMT.
My bonus points are
xeronisus - inability to reach orgasm
xenoepist - someone who speaks with a foreign accent
xanthic - yellow; yellowish
Mention of favorite book - "The fear of flying" By Erica Jong
My guess as to who submitted this weeks subject - Lady Oregon
My Guess as to who submitted this weeks Picture - Spidey-John
Is the secret word "Theater"?
This is my first time attempting a blogophilia, and I found it not only challenging, but kinda fun!
Please bear with me if I have not done everything correctly, as I have only been a member for a few days. So be gentle with me.
32 years ago, I was stationed in Grafenwoehr Germany (permanent party, not out in the field in maneuvers). I was working the Emergency Room (Grafenwoehr no longer has an Emergency Room, it is now a large sick call center). My schedule was 2 weeks on, 24 hours a day (work 10 hours a day on call for the rest of the day with a beeper) 2 weeks off. During my 2 weeks off I would travel. I traveled to Greece, England, Tunisia, Norway, France, Spain etc (over 50 Countries in less than 3 years) and had the time of my life!
This was 1980 and disco was still alive in Europe (I understand it still is in many places. For those that have not lived through the disco era, watch movies like "Saturday Night Fever"). Rock Festivals were beginning to pop up all over. Sex was fun and open, every women had read the "The fear of flying" By Erica Jong and we all knew what a "Zipless fuck" meant (no attachments, one time only, no names exchanged, just a quickie with a stranger, preferably in a secluded public spot, such as joining the mile high club), AIDS was not a disease yet and Quaalude's were sold over the counter. I was staring at the blank pages of my future laid out ahead of me.
It was a GREAT time to be 20 years old, a woman and traveling alone in Europe. Unfortunately I did develop a phobia of anyone with xanthic teeth. As well as a fear of those European women who did not know what a razor blade was or how to use one....ewwwww.
Anyway, back to my story, 1980 the night before the Loreley Festival in Germany, and I did not have a ticket to get in to see Johnny Winters, Edgar Winters, Santana, Joe Cocker, ZZ Top, Bob Marley and the Wailers along with a handful of German bands I had not heard of yet (including The Scorpions) but I went anyway. As I got off the train I fell in with a group that all had tickets. They were planing on partying all night long, so of course I went along with them. We ended up in a large field outside the open air festival, there were many bon fires going and parties all over. As the night wore on I was cold as I was only wearing a halter top (baby blue) and short shorts (think Daisy Duke). One of the guys I was partying with offered me his jean jacket (I think he was hoping to get laid). Anyway he said he had to use the bathroom and he wandered off and being as I was drunk, stoned and tripping, I got tired of waiting (he was a bit to nice for me anyway, if you know what I mean, and I know every woman knows what I mean...) and wandered off to another fire.
I met a group of guys from France, after only a few sips into my beer, I realized they were so rude and obnoxious that I developed a short lived hatred for xenoepist. The next group I met was from Amsterdam, and let me tell you, the hash they had was amazing! They were friendly, had great hash and weed, and were cute...so I settled in. As the night wore on we exchanged stories. One of the guys (I am sorry I cannot remember names, it was long ago and I was pretty messed up), told me he was xeronisus! I almost felt bad enough to try and help him, but he just was not my type either. I did hook up with Hans, a very large viking type with long red hair...At this point I will censor the rest of the night as this is supposed to be for all ages reading...
The next morning, I realized I still had the jacket on that the nerdie guy loaned me. I DID look for him to return the jacket, but by then the crowds were HUGE...so I looked in the pockets. HOLY SH*T!!! in the pockets there was a ticket to get in to the concert, $500, a camera, a train ticket and a dozen joints! Being as he was a nice guy/nerd, and I was a selfish, self centered 20 year old that REALLY wanted to see the concert...I bet you can guess what happened next....
Photo from that concert of Johnny Winters