Horndog

From time to time, I think about the AB thing. Then I think of people like Stanley and Rilo, and I think, "No way." A mental blockade is forming. My mind is actively deterring me from really taking the AB lifestyle all that seriously.

This is probably my favorite brand at the moment. I always find the best way to wear a diaper is to wet over time and not "flood" it all at once. If you wet throughout the day and pace yourself, the diaper becomes very convenient. I like the "ABDL" discount code on the cases. Their cases are already marked down, AND you apply the 15%. Very nice!

Someone bumped my old thread! I've never engaged in the practice, and don't plan on it. When ABY.com first went online, Davee (the site's webmaster) uploaded a photo of himself with his diaper pulled out. Another man stood in front of him and urinated into it. If memory serves correctly, that photo actually divided the userbase on the site in half -- and I've never seen such divisiveness in the AB/DL community before. Some people were extremely turned on by it, and others wrote that they were so disgusted by it that they vowed to never go on ABY.com ever again.

I've been an AB/DL since I was 14 -- but mostly a DL. On Thursday, I had a conversation with someone who is more into the lifestyle I am, and I told him outright that I've lost any AB tendencies that I've had. The "adult baby" lifestyle doesn't sit well with me anymore. Since I became an AB/DL, I often struggled with the "adult baby" and "diaper lover" concepts -- trying to see where I fit in. TV shows like "Rugrats" influenced me to experiment with AB-related activity, but I was never able to imagine myself being in a crib and being taken care of by a "mommy" or "daddy." Now, just indulging in anything AB feels out of character. It feels forced. Has anyone else grown out of their AB phase?

I watch Real Time with Bill Maher every Friday night when a new episode airs. Still, it's like, "Really?"

I've seen the comparisons going between Bill Maher and Rush Limbaugh. The comparisons have started after people started criticizing Rush Limbaugh for his comments regarding Georgetown University Law Center law student Sandra Fluke. Then Limbaugh supporters started criticizing Bill Maher for his comments on Sarah Palin and Michele Bachmann. Can we all agree that both Limbaugh and Maher use sexist language for shock value? Is anyone really shocked?

Let's ban everything we personally find to be morally objectionable. I vote kittens!

Here are some reasons for diaper-wearing, which you can work with: Incontinence Convenience Security Comfort Voyeurism Control (S&M)

I'm surprised I was able to type the day I posted this thread.

The baby was a real full-time job for Mark and Susan. Frank was a good kid, but he cried often and left his parents guessing. Did he need his diaper changed? Was he hungry? Was he thirsty? Mark and Susan had a checklist -- in their mind -- that they went through on a daily basis. There were nights when neither of them could go to sleep. There was crying at night. They took turns at first with the baby, but then they started arguing with each other. "No, I went last. It's your turn to deal with Frank." It was chaos in their household and there were only a few moments when the couple had some time to think without some sort of noisy interruption. Frank was four months old. For those four months, life was Hell for the new parents. Mark was starting to feel trapped in the family mold. He wanted to be the carefree cowboy like the way things used to be before Frank was born -- not that he didn't love his son. He corrected himself every time he thought about life before fatherhood. He dismissed thoughts of the past as "thinking selfishly." When he looked into Frank's eyes, Mark smiled gracefully, knowing that his son was a great gift to the world. When he was with Frank, Mark's selfish desires faded away albeit temporarily. There was some unresolved issues that continued to occupy his conscience. When he said some time to himself, Mark sent text messages to Robbie. The conversation started innocently enough. "Hi, how are you? How's life?" Then it got a little zesty. Mark would ask Robbie about the status of his diaper. When talking about diapers, Mark and Robbie developed a shortcode that only they could decipher. "W" stood for wet. "M" stood for messy. "WM" stood for full diaper. "1" indicated that one diaper was worn, and "2" meant the wearer was double-diapered. An exclamation point next to "W" or "M" meant that the person communicating the status of their diaper was in the process of wetting or messing themselves. The men made a game out of it and they would eventually up the ante. Mark and Robbie gave each other objectives. For example, Robbie challenged Mark to wet himself in front of an aisle of baby diapers in a grocery store within two hours. On the day he received that text message, Mark volunteered to do some grocery shopping and run errands. He made sure to hold his bladder and wait until he arrived at the local grocery store. When he walked to the baby aisle, he started at a bag of Pampers as he flooded his diaper. He got a charge of sexual adrenaline from the experience and felt aroused for the rest of his shopping trip. He looked at his watch to make sure that he was able to wet his diaper before the two hours passed. He was successful. A challenge was issued by Mark to Robbie about a week later: soil your diaper in a line to the bathroom. To achieve this objective, Robbie drove to a popular hamburger joint close to his apartment. He ordered two double cheeseburgers, a side of chili fries and a large Pepsi. When he was done eating, Robbie walked up to a line of people waiting to use the restroom. The timing couldn't have been better. Robbie had to go and he had to go bad. He acted it out a little, but not enough to cause a stir. He bent his knees a little and casually grabbed his padded crotch. He roleplayed with himself and thought, "I have to go, but I don't want to be a baby and use my diaper! I want to be a big boy!" He waited and waited until it had to come out. He stood for a moment and allowed himself to mess. Once he made a deposit into the back of his diaper, Robbie walked out of the restaurant before the smell could fill up the place. He dashed into his car and drove away. The challenges became more adventurous and risque. Robbie dared Mark to use his diaper during Sunday church service -- and so he did. As he recited Psalm 148 in unison with other parishoners (including his wife and son), Mark wet himself. Dressed in his formal church clothes, Mark started to wet slowly before this was the first time he was knowingly wetting himself in front of a few hundred people. He tried coaching himself to wet himself completely. "Babies do it all the time. C'mon, Marky boy!" In his mind, he was giving orders, but the body was not responding. Out of frustration, he tried forcing himself to wet. Instead, he let out a noisy fart squeak that unfortunately echoed during a moment of silence. Knowing that several parishoners heard the noise, Mark remained perfectly still while Susan coldly stared him down. "What the Hell was that?" Susan mouthed to Mark. Mark looked around, trying to find some poor soul to blame. He jerked his head slightly and moved his eyes toward an elderly man who sat beside him. "Really, Mark?" Susan whispered with obvious exasperation. Mark looked at the old man. The old man smiled and slowly nodded to Mark. "It wasn't me," he mouthed back to Susan. An agitated Susan crossed her arms. When the service was over, Mark and Susan walked out of the church side by side. Susan held Frank in her arms and walked hurriedly to the car. She knew that Mark was up to something, but didn't know what. Fortunately, nothing else happened during the service, but a very familiar smell lingered in her nostrils. Though nobody else seemed to notice, Susan felt embarrassed. She wanted to angrily interrogate Mark for acting like a dirty little sinner in a house of worship, but there was little proof to indict Mark. "Can I see your diaper, Mark?" Susan asked as she got in the car. "Not here, I --" "No, let me see it," she insisted. "Okay, fine. Drive to somewhere private. I want to check." "But I didn't do a number two." "I don't believe you. Not for a second." Mark was telling the truth. After Mark drove to a nearby park, Susan patted down her husband's crotch in the car. She felt no wetness or suspicious lumps. For the most part, Mark was dry. He failed his objective. This actually bothered Mark. No matter what kind of game he played, he always played to win. Had Susan not given him a hard time in church, he would have fully relieved himself there, Mark figured. He thought about lying to Robbie, but he didn't feel comfortable telling a lie. Mark eventually texted Robbie and told him, "Couldn't do it. Wife was a buzzkill." In a strange way, Mark felt energized from taking on challenges -- as insignificant and narrow as they were. They made him look at life in a more exciting way. He was able to integrate the tedium of everyday life and responsibilities with the thrills that kept him mobilized. Susan was unaware of her husband's mischief, but she couldn't care less. She was busy being the mother, but she couldn't complain since Mark was always supportive. In fact, she enjoyed seeing Mark so chipper. If only she knew. There were plenty of opportunities for Mark to visit Robbie, but he hesitated because he kept arriving at the same moral quandary of honoring his fidelity. He drove past Robbie's apartment when he was in the area, but never thought of knocking at his door. He went to Walmart to do his shopping, but Robbie didn't seem to be around as much as he used to be. Robbie seemed to be an elusive creature, but it was just coincidence that Robbie wasn't around the store while Mark was there. The stars weren't crossing as Mark hoped. Mark remained hopeful that someday he could spend some time with Robbie and experiment with his sexuality; he hoped to address the unanswered questions about himself. Yet there was something soothing about being the family man who was always there to lend a helping hand. It was spiritually rewarding for the hardened cowboy. Being a father gave Mark a sense of pride that he didn't have before. It also gave him some authenticity. As time passed, Mark found less time to diaper up and seek new crinkly adventures -- and when he wore, it was for convenience and nothing more. After a while, Mark stopped calling Robbie. Robbie noticed that the communications were dwindling down. He tried salvaging what little contact they had by sending e-mails to Mark, but the e-mails were left unanswered. By Frank's first birthday, Mark had come down with food poisoning. It was likely samonella poisoning. He spent days vomiting in the bathroom while expelling his bodily waste simultaneously. Fortunately, he was wearing a diaper. He messed his diaper uncontrollably, but even if he wasn't wearing any protective padding, he was too sick to care about the circumstances. Susan noted that Mark was actually wearing diapers for a practical purpose, and left him alone unless he needed her for something. He felt his heart racing quickly; faster and faster it went. He couldn't cough without vomiting all over himself. After a while, he decided to spend the rest of his day of sickness in the bathroom. Outside the bathroom, Frank was crying. He could hear Susan's loud footsteps rumbling through the hallway. He sat on the toilet, feeling dizzy and disoriented. The lights were too bright in the bathroom for him, so he turned them off. With a coarse throat, he sat quietly, measuring every swallow. He felt like he was going to pass out, but he was reawakened by his grumbling stomach. He voided his bowels several times. It started with a painful rumble, a wet fart and an uncontrollable flow of waste piling into his diaper. For years, Mark used diapers as a convenience, but now the convenience was becoming all too real for him. It wasn't fun and games anymore. By the time he exited the bathroom, Mark was gaunt and looked like life was completely drained from his face. His eyes appeared swollen. His lips were chapped. He had a few drops of saliva coating the bottom of his lip. He could barely see what was in front of him. He noticed Susan, who passed him by and asked him to lay in bed. The only thought he could muster at that moment was, "Oh, please change me!" The big, burly cowboy felt totally helpless -- and he hated that feeling very much. But he had to abide. He laid on top of the bed and held onto his diapered crotch. He started wetting himself, but the diaper was so full that it was beginning to leak. It felt like he was peeing into the palm of his hand. He could feel the wetness coming through. Susan finally came over to Mark and arrived with a fresh diaper in hand. He closed his eyes and tried to remain calm, but his stomach continued to groan manically. He was hoping to relax enough so he could drift to sleep, but the sickness kept him awake. He felt Susan rubbing down his groin extensively. She was cursing to herself because this was the first time she had to change her husband's diaper in a messy state. She even gagged a few times, but fought the offending odors to change Mark as quickly as she could. Mark was simply grateful that she was getting him cleaned up. Suddenly, Susan barked at Mark. "I shouldn't have to be your nurse." Mark blinked a few times. He muttered back to her, "Never thought that you should be." Susan mumbled incoherently to herself. "Sorry" was the only word Mark could hear from her ramble. "It's alright. Just not in the best of shape right now." Once she was done changing him, Susan stormed out of the bedroom to check on Frank. For a moment, Susan felt like she was living in a nightmare. Her husband looked pale, ghostly and lifeless. She left him laying on the bed. Then she realized that she forgot to feed Frank a snack. She got into the kitchen and prepared him a small sandwich. As she was making the sandwich, she could hear her husband moaning in the bedroom. She felt overwhelmed and at a loss of words. Though she knew that Mark wasn't able to help himself, Susan was disappointed at Mark for getting himself in awkward or embarrassing situations, mostly involving random instances of incontinence. She recalled the time he wet himself in front of her family members about a year earlier. Then she flashed back to the moment she found out Mark was ill. A few days before his food poisoning symptoms fully manifested, the couple went out for a nice dinner at her favorite Chinese food restaurant with their son. She ordered her Kung Pao Chicken, brown rice and pork dumplings. He ordered Shrimp Lo Mein and bottle of Tsingtao beer. Frank just played with Chinese noodles in his high chair and didn't care for eating much that evening. Susan struck up a conversation with the owner, who knew her from high school. As she chatted, Mark felt a painful sensation that was pulsating in his stomach. He held onto his stomach briefly, but he was suddenly overcome with the urgency to discharge his bowels -- and so he did in front of everyone in the restaurant. He sat in the booth, grunted and dirtied his jeans. He wasn't wearing a diaper. She apologized to the owner profusely, paid the check and left the restaurant without uttering another word to Mark. When they arrived back home, Mark and Susan got into a heated argument. "I think I'm sick," he told Susan as he stood in the living room. She raised a hand to her forehead in disbelief. "You know, I'm really tired of this. I had to put up with your diaper stuff for a while now, and now I'm miserable. Absolutely miserable." She looked into his eyes and wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. "No, it's got nothing to do with --" "Stop right there!" she said tersely. She placed her hand up to his face in a "stop" gesture. "Mark, I've known you for a long time now... before you wore diapers and you weren't shittin' your pants. You didn't act like a toddler. Now that you're wearing diapers all the time, it's hard for you to go out and have a life without wearing diapers at all. I'm just horrified -- I mean, tired of it. We already have one baby. Don't need two. I never imagined that I would be married to a big baby. You're embarrassing me in front of my friends, people I know. You're just -- you're..." Mark started coughing violently. He walked over to the couch and sat down. He continued coughing. "No, Susan. I think I got food poisoned. I don't want to argue with you right now." She raged on. "We need to talk about this." "I'm sick, goddamit!" "Then get off the couch and change your pants!" Susan was able to cool down enough to realize her husband was actually sick. Once she spotted him vomiting in the bathroom, Susan immediately regretted how she treated him. However, she felt that the diapers were reducing his continence. She believed that he was so used to wearing diapers all the time that he was unable to control his bladder and sphincter muscles, and that dramatically reduced her overall attraction to him. She was no longer drawn to his presence. Instead, when she saw him in diapers, Susan imagined that Mark was sickly and unable to be the man he used to be. She appreciated the fact that he was supportive and proactive in taking care of Frank, but she also wanted him to be more than a father: a companion and a lover. He seemed incapable of assuming both of those roles. On the night that Susan changed him, Mark laid motionless in bed. He was so tired from vomiting that he was able to sleep. Susan approached him and rubbed his sweaty forehead. He opened his eyes a little and smiled. Standing over him, Susan smiled back. She didn't feel any emotion in particular. Taking care of someone in need was a reflex for Susan, but she was nonetheless disheartened by the situation she found herself in. Mark could tell by the expression on her face that she finally hit the wall. "Suzie," he called her. "I don't want to lose you." She looked away from him, swallowed nervously and sniffled. "It's hard, Mark. It's hard." Her voice was crackling with emotion. Tired, Mark took a heavy sigh. "I know you're stressed out. I'm really trying to work this out." "We can't keep banging our heads against the wall. I've made adjustments, but it's up to you to make yours." Susan sounded calmer. "Alright," he said stoically. "Give me a few days." It took Mark about a week to recover. The time he spent recovering was dedicated to forming a plan for his future. He knew that he was depending on diapers too much. What started out as a convenient but recreational practice turned into a daily necessity that altered his life considerably. At the same time, he still liked wearing diapers. It became a part of his identity, though it was usually concealed from public view. He was still the diapered cowboy that liked going on adventures in the wilderness with his trusty, puffy undergarment. It was security. He often compared himself to Linus, a fictional character from the Charles M. Schulz comic strip "Peanuts." Linus always carried around his security blanket. Despite having a blanket with him at all times, Linus was considered as thoughtful and smart. However, even Linus outgrew his obsession. Mark gave Robbie a call and told him that he was going to be in the area. A week passed since he got food poisoned. He decided that the only way he could transition out of diapers was by limiting his usage to social interactions with other diapered folk -- and make those interactions few and far between. He couldn't figure out a good way to convey his plans to Susan, so he kept his mouth shut. He went to see Robbie on a Friday as part of his trip into town. He let Susan know that he was going to be out for a while shopping and restocking some supplies. Mark took care of his errands first before stopping by Robbie's apartment for a visit. He knocked on Robbie's door and patiently waited. Robbie answered and invited Mark in. Mark had not seen Robbie in almost a year, yet he felt comfortable around Robbie. He didn't feel like he was going to be judged or harshly criticized. The sexual tension between them was repressed enough for them to have a conversation about life with their clothes still on. "So you're feeling better now?" asked Robbie as he sat on the living room couch beside Mark, flipping through the channels on his TV. "Yeah, but I feel that the marriage is on the rocks. I've put her through, but I can't even articulate why I do what I do without coming across as a selfish prick," Mark grumbled. "I have to be honest. The only way you can convey your feelings about -- you know -- is with someone who can relate to you. Like it would be a miracle, an absolute miracle if I found a boyfriend who was totally okay with me wearing diapers. You put yourself in someone else's shoes for a moment, and think about their reaction once they see a grown adult in diapers. But not even dry diapers... wet diapers, messy diapers even. Usually, their minds would be blown. From what you tell me, Susan is basically a saint. She could have dumped your ass, but she persevered. You're lucky, man." "I am, for sure," Mark admitted. "But I know that she's really distraught about it all." Robbie chuckled. "Well, I would be too if I see my partner shit their pants at a restaurant. My gut reaction would be, 'I don't know this person. I was drugged, and somehow ended up at this table against my will.'" "At one point, I think Susan thought I crapped my pants on purpose." Robbie snorted and grinned. "Well, maybe in fantasy-world you could get away with that. Not in the real world." "I know, I know." "Have you ever tried to -- oh wait! Remember when I dared you to wet during church a few months back?" "Yeah. And I let out this fart that could be heard throughout the place. People were wondering who did it, but Susan knew. There was an older man beside me and I was trying to pass blame to that poor soul. And you know what? That old man had this smile on his face from ear to ear. It was like I could read his mind. 'Hey sonny, I know how it goes.' But the thing is: he's old. Old people can get away with a fart during church. Heck, if he got in his car and accidentally ran over a bunch of people, they would say, 'How can you be mad at this guy? He's old!' They can get away with murder! But me? No way." Robbie laughed. "I'm sure that when you get old, you'll be put in a retirement home. You'll press the buzzer, summon the nurse and get her to change your diaper. But deep down inside, you know you're just diapered up so the nurse gives you some 'attention' if you know what I mean. Speaking of which, are you wearing right now?" "Maybe. Maybe not," Mark replied coyly. "Can I see?" Mark unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly and pulled his pants down slightly. At that moment, Mark felt a little peculiar. He thought of Susan for a split-second. His body tightened up. He looked down at Robbie's head as the younger man rubbed his diaper. It was dry. Nonetheless, he felt a sudden jolt of pleasure. It's been a while since he had his diaper rubbed suggestively by someone else. Robbie pushed down on the diaper and felt the rough outline of Mark's member. Robbie stroked Mark's diaper up and down slowly. Mark adjusted himself on the couch by sliding down a little. This gave Robbie an opportunity to see the diaper up and close. "You put on a thick diaper today I see," said Robbie. Mark nodded. "It's a special occasion. Haven't seen you in a while," he cackled. Robbie was immediately aroused. He tried to not appear too eager. After all, he was mingling with a married man. He had some second thoughts about escalating the intimacy. He tried so hard to not confine himself to being a desperate, lonely gay man. He told himself that it was all happenstance. He thought about when he first met Mark at work. It was purely coincidence that his path crossed the path of someone who was also diapered. "But dammit," he thought. "The guy's handsome." He was falling for Mark, and he couldn't quite say what he felt to the big boy. The chemistry between the two was undeniable. Mark had some vivid fantasies of Robbie in his dreams and yet the encounter felt like a spell that needed to be broken for the sake of his marriage. He went to Robbie's with the mindset that he was going to face down his temptations and indulge in the excess. He compared this strategy to the time his father forced his younger brother to smoke a whole carton of cigarettes after he was caught smoking around the house. After he managed to smoke half a carton, his brother decided to quit. For years, his brother couldn't tolerate the smell of tobacco. He was hoping that he would stop wearing diapers after visiting Robbie. Robbie lifted up Mark's shirt and rubbed his hairy belly. Mark enjoyed the belly rubs. He enjoyed the physical contact. His loosened up his muscles and took a heavy sigh. Robbie took the relaxation as an indication that he was on the right track. When the momentum was starting to pick up, Robbie whispered to Mark, "I have to pee." Mark's cheeks flushed red. "Now?" Robbie whimpered and grabbed onto his diaper. "I've been holding it since you called." Forgetting for a moment that he was in a roleplaying situation, Mark stuttered, "You're kidding, right?" Robbie shook his head. He looked around the room, giving an exaggerated sense of desperation. "But I'm supposed to be a big boy and use the toilet!" He was very animated when it came to showing his desperation. He moved away from Mark, grabbed his crotch and wiggled his legs. The boy was about to explode. A large half dollar-sized patch of yellow appeared on Robbie's diaperfront. In that moment, Mark saw a young diapered man who was stripped of his adulthood by profusely wetting his diaper. A vast covering of piss was spreading throughout the diaper. The surface was completely soaked. To Robbie, the diaper felt very warm. When a man wets his diaper, his scent becomes intesified. A very musky odor filled the room. Securely tucked inside his padding, Mark's penis hardened and poked the diaper. He felt his member slither further into his diaper, creating a lot of pressure in anticipation of what might come next. Mark aggressed on Robbie like a force of nature. It wouldn't be long before Robbie went down on the cowboy. Mark looked down at Robbie as he was being pleasured. It was a strange, but electrifying experience. Never would he imagine the day he would have a same-sex encounter. His heart was racing and the only thing occupying his mind was "Wow!" Things were escalating quickly. There were paths that he could choose from that point -- sex in the bedroom, more diaper play. He felt a lot of power and freedom in the position he was in. He could do anything he wanted. The intensity of Robbie's oral work energized the big dude; Robbie's submissive nature was a big turn-on. He could barely weigh in with his pulsating organ. Robbie took a break from what he was doing to rub Mark's chest. He pressed his body against Mark's and tried to sneak in a kiss on the lips, but Mark turned away. Despite being in the heat of passion, he didn't want to kiss Robbie. In his mind, kissing between two people constituted love -- and he loved Susan. Nonetheless, Mark remained involved in the physical intimacy. It was addicting. He leaned back on the couch, feeling greased up and horny. He felt Robbie's lips graze against his five o'clock shadow. The two men ceased speaking as they allowed their bodies to do the talking. Between them, it was like a cat-and-mouse game. Who was going to make the next move? After whispering a request in his ear, Robbie got up and walked into the bathroom. He turned on the shower. Both men entered the small bathroom and got in the shower. There was barely enough room for the two. The water was hot and the bathroom was steamy. What Mark whispered in Robbie's ear was "Let's see how wet we can really get!" From outside the shower, there was a silhouette of two men: one bent over while a taller, larger man humped aggressively from behind. Both their diapers were on. It was a split-second decision on Mark's part. With hot water showering their bodies, the two men were having the time of their lives. Robbie moaned as the diapered cowboy rode him like a wild stallion looking to breed. Mark could no longer withstand the pressure. He let the juice of his loins flow freely into his diaper; so much of it was pent up. The orgasm was so strong, it made him dizzy for a moment but he was able to hold onto Robbie's waist and maintain his footing. Panting, Robbie turned off the water and exited the shower first. He came out with his diaper drooping low to the ground, full of wetness. He wiped the steam off his mirror to take a look at himself. He looked at his diaper, which was obviously leaking. He didn't mind. Neither did Mark. When he got out of the shower, Mark felt his stomach grumbling. He had to lay down a load. He looked down at the toilet beside him. Robbie followed Mark's eyes, smiled and shrugged cynically. Mark shook his head, grimaced at the toilet and waved his arms dismissively toward it. He bent his knees, squatted down and messed his diaper with a loud pop. Mark's diaper was completely full from all ends. It was the perfect conclusion to an extremely fun afternoon. Once he thoroughly relieved himself, Mark felt like he took care of all the necessities. The inner-quarrels with himself had disappeared. He requested Robbie to keep things on the "down low." He felt like he accomplished enough that the need for diapers was reduced to a mere thought. As a parting gift, Mark changed Robbie in the bedroom. Because he was on diaper duty with his son, Mark became well-versed in diaper changes. In stark contrast to Robbie, Mark was fully clothed. He powdered Robbie and rubbed it into his skin good. He slid the new diaper underneath Robbie's rear, lined up the wings, adjusted the tapes and the leg gathers. Mark happily supplied his friend with a nice, thick diaper. He marveled at his achievement. Robbie groped his padded crotch for good measure and sat up. "You sure know how to clean up, huh?" said Robbie. Mark chuckled. "Practice, practice, practice." "So you're done with diapers for a while?" "More or less," Mark replied. "I need to focus on the family and being the father again, not the baby." Mark sat down on the bed beside Robbie and sighed. "You know, that was fun," said Robbie. He patted Mark on the back. "Weird, but fun. What can I say? Thought I was as straight as an arrow. Now I can see I'm a little bent." "You don't think that's going to conflict with your marriage, do you?" Mark placed his hands on his lap and looked down at the floor. "Beats me. It shouldn't, though." "I'm thinking of moving out of the county... maybe heading to Houston or something. Don't think I'll find love in the boondocks here," Robbie chuckled. "You could give it a shot. Why not?" "Eh, well... I'm conflicted because it's like... I have feelings for this married man here, and --" "Oh, is that right? I had no idea," said Mark. He winked playfully at Robbie. "I think he's going to be too busy to see me." "Never say never, my friend." Mark kissed Robbie on the forehead, rubbed his head and left. The family had rebounded, just as Mark expected. A week after Mark's visit wtih Robbie, the Camus were as cheerful as ever. The diapers were moved from the hallway closet into the garage, and packed away in discreet cardboard boxes with "DO NOT OPEN" written in Sharpee. He stopped wearing diapers around the house. When Susan pressed him on the sudden change, Mark told her, "I have to be a big boy now." She accepted the answer. Mark no longer had any embarrassing accidents nor did he feel any reason to indulge in his voyeuristic pleasures, which remained happily dormant. In short time, the vivid narrative of the diapered cowboy became a colorful fable that never left the confines of the family ranch. He didn't mention to Susan the time he spent with Robbie. And she never demanded to hear an explanation for his lengthy visits in town. She was a smart woman. She knew that something changed when he left the house, that day, to visit Robbie. He came back looking calm, clean and assertive. This was the Mark Camus that she married all those years ago. However, Mark could not escape the criticism from her about his diaper-wearing, which she parodied relentlessly. It all seemed like a distant memory. When Susan joked about it, Mark laughed it off like she was talking about someone else. Susan was still in disbelief. Though her hands were full with raising Frank, she couldn't help but sometimes think about the events that transpired. Her brain remained rigged with doubt about her husband. Though she loved him, there was something unsettling about the whole thing. She hoped to one day sit down with him and talk about it. There were times when she would enter the garage to find something, but would end up walking to the boxes of diapers. The diapers, which were stacked at a dark corner of the garage, didn't intimidate her. She was just curious to see if the boxes were opened since he moved them there. Little did she know, he didn't change much. Mark Camus continued walking around the farm in his diapers. He always carried spares in his truck.

People on the right are now after Bill Maher, saying the left is being hypocritical in criticizing Rush Limbaugh. Oy.

I've made several web sites. I make a living doing them.

The movie I saw last was "Chronicle." A really terrific film.

Tom Petty - A Face In The Crowd

What kind of comedy do you guys enjoy? Improv ("Who's Line Is It Anyway?")? Sketch (i.e. Saturday Night Live, Monty Python)? Stand-up?

I never wear green on St. Patty's

New chapter should be out later this week. Been busy! Sorry for the delay.

Closets. Several closets.

Yeah. I agree. It was a little unnerving to see Marge walk out after that. It's like, "Really?"

I have the feeling that Simpsons writers have looked at [DD] recently.

While diapered, do you have an easier or more difficult time using your diaper while you're located in certain places? I find that I don't hesitate using my diaper -- and being comfortable about it -- when I'm hiking or in the wilderness. Something about the outdoors relaxes me. I get a little "pee-shy" when I'm out at a restaurant with friends.

Agreed. Just wear a thick diaper. No need to overdo it.

I noticed that when I'm drunk, I tend to twitch a lot. It's like someone accidentally put their finger in an electrical socket, thinking that he wouldn't get electrocuted and have everyone in the room laugh at him.

I'm out of this thread.

Good question. The things that trigger me into a diaper frame of mind are usually quite simple: having a full bladder, walking past the personal care/incontinence aisle at a department store, or looking at regular underwear has a diaper-esque appearance.