- This is the Rush with the old gun mount, the one I operated.
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photo credit: pyzam.com
Today in the United States we celebrate Veterans Day, which commemorates the bravery and sacrifice of the men and women who have honorably served in the military. To all veterans, past and present, we offer our deepest and heartfelt gratitude for standing strong, guarding our shores, risking your lives and when called upon, making the ultimate sacrifice.
Because of You, Unknown Soldier
By Courtney Tanabe
Because of you, I am here
Because of you, I am able to live freely
Yet I do not know you
And I have not done anything for you
But there you stand, ready to fight
And there you are prepared to die
For me
You’ve fought before
And you’ll fight again
For someone you don’t know
So thank you Unknown Soldier
Fighting for me
I’m here because of you
And I owe my future to you
This is a special day on this website because as some of you may already know Devlin O’Neill served his country faithfully as a member of the United States Coast Guard. The USCG can trace its roots back to 1790 and the dawn of this country. Their motto is Semper Paratus, which is Latin for “always ready.” Since coming to know Dev I consider him my brother and can state first hand he is still a Guardsman and is always ready. Always ready to lend a helping hand when needed. Always ready to listen when you need an understanding and compassionate ear. Always ready to offer kind words when appropriate and honest, hard words when required. Dev is always ready to aid any person, be they friend or stranger, in troubled times or times of joyous celebration. In finest Coast Guard tradition, Devlin O’Neill is and remains, ALWAYS READY.
Gwen and I wish Dev a Happy Veterans Day, and Gwen, Dev and I wish all veterans a meaningful and reflective observance of this day.
~Michael
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The inimitable Chross picked Poppy’s blit bit ‘Disobedience’ for his Spankings of the Week today. Saying that she is pleased about this happening is a gross understatement, but she is English and trying very hard not to be overly enthusiastic about it – with absolutely no success at all. I have been telling her for a while now that Chross would notice her sooner rather than later, though you all realize that, like most girls around here, patience is not her strong suit.
In any case I am thoroughly delighted that her talent has been recognized and notice taken. Still I’m going to have a heck of a time getting her to sleep tonight, wound up as she is like a three-dollar watch. That’s all right. I’m up to the task and if worse comes to worst I have The Voice. I hate to use it on a Friday night but what has to be has to be.
So congratulations on this milestone, Poppy, and may there be many more!
-Dev
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“Stanley, I don’t believe you’re going about this in the proper manner.”
“I hate to disagree with you, Ollie, but this young lady cadged my cup of tea practically right from under my nose and she needs a jolly good hiding, so bog off and find your own girl. Hmf!”
Two of my favorite people engaged in one of my favorite activities, something I never imagined I would see. (Thank you, Richard Windsor.)
Gwen, please note Mr. Hardy’s well polished oxfords, and also Mr. Laurel’s stylish spats. Her heels are quite chic as well so no footwear faux pas here.
Her shorts are quite becoming too, as is her look of absolute … glee? Can that be right?
Perhaps Stanley will need Oliver’s help with the jolly good hiding after all.
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Its so not fair when a good girl plays the wickedest, naughtiest Cabbage Night trick on a big handsome man … the most mischievous, *awesome* trick in the world … a trick worthy of a smokin’ hot spanking … and she’s counting the days with that dreaded thrill you have when you know what’s coming to you and…
he gets the flu. LOL. Nuts. … Patience. Where can I get some? ;)
xoxo
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(With apologies to E.A. Poe and to M. Anthony who really likes reading the original every Halloween.)
The Falcon
A Parody by Devlin O’Neill
Once upon a midnight beer-y, while I maundered, bleak and dreary,
Over a list I’d written of stuff to buy at the grocery store –
While I puttered, mused and muttered, stealthily there came a yapping,
As of Corgis briskly lapping, snapping at my chamber door.
“’T’is the neighbor’s dogs,” I grumbled, “snapping at my chamber door –
Only this, and what a bore.”
Glad indeed I wasn’t sober, for this was in late October,
Yet could the whirring fans not dry the sweat that dripped from every pore.
Vaguely still I felt the longing – longing deep, and deeper more,
Grocery list of no availing – thinking of my fond Adore,
Reaching for her, grasping, yearning, fearful not, yet still a-burning,
Burning for my fond Adore.
Then onto my terrace balcon’d flew a swift and eager falcon,
Brown and quill’d and talon’d, speedy messenger from foreign shore.
Grim he looked with eye of blackness, yet I knew no turning backness,
I braced the bird as though I had inkling as to what lay in store,
“Art thou come to give me tidings, tidings from most distant shore?”
Quoth the falcon, “Make her sore.”
“This is not an answer, surely! Make your meaning known more purely!
“What communication have you from the girl whose name I call Adore?”
Reached out did I very softly, yet my hand did he deplore,
Snubbed he too the bit of steak that I offered him from my private store,
“Speak, I pray thee, noble falcon! Tell me now what went before!”
All he said was “Make her sore.”
“Know thou not I see this clearly, as I hold her name most dearly,
“That ever and forever I would do as your cryptic words implore?”
And then the falcon, nodding merely, seemed to sigh and shrug most clearly.
“All right,” I said, “The task’s before, and go I to her chamber door.”
He flew away and left me calm, a gloried itching in my palm,
“Got it, Falcon – make her sore.”

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The night before Halloween is known by various names around the United States and the world. Devil’s Night, Cabbage Night, Gate Night, Trick Night, Mizzy Night, Goosey Night (I love the sound of that!) to name a few, and growing up in Northern New Jersey we called it Mischief Night. The custom is for youngsters, usually teenagers, to play pranks and commit good-natured mischief in the neighborhood. When I was a young teen it was a favorite night for my friends, and the mischief we caused was mostly rained upon ourselves and in a form closer to mayhem than mischief, often resulting in fist fights. Throwing eggs at windows and cars quickly turned into food fights among ourselves.
Shaving cream on a paper plate was stiff armed into faces with such force bloody noses were oftentimes the result. Flour socks (flour poured into a knotted sock which would leave a white mark upon its target) were packed tight and hurt like hell when someone took a full swing at your back or even worse at your head. Even at that early age I loved smacking a girl’s behind with my flour sock leaving a white mark on blue jean clad cheeks, which I could only hope one day would be replaced by my red hand print on the girl’s bare bottom.
My egg throwing days and ringing doorbells then running are behind me, but now I deal with a different sort of mischief. Being on the receiving end of bratty naughtiness by a very special someone in my life and also the cheeky girls on this blog.
So, thankfully my youthful dream did come true and I have replaced my flour sock and left a deeper mark by not only spanking naughty girls but affecting them in the most squirmy of ways.
~Michael
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We’ve hit the 800,000 visitors’ mark but we didn’t plan a witty, celebratory post ahead of time. (Did we?)
Ummm, errrr … please stay tuned for a very clever celebratory message that I’m sure is being worked on by Uncle D. and/or Michael. She said hopefully.
xoxo
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The new downtown location of the Devlin O’Neill Weblog office! *G*
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