I wanted to let folks know that all the photos I've been loading lately were taken with an Epson PhotoPC 3000Z 3.3 megapixel digital camera on loan to my office. It's a nice little camera with good resolution and extremely reliable in all my dealings with it. But when my Canon PowerShot G1 gets here, I'm going to toss it aside so fast its LCD will spin.

After family dinner last night (no guest cop, things were hopping on the neighborhood beat, so he was kinda tied up), Jake asked if she could borrow Deb for awhile. I said sure. Deb said she'd probably be home by 8.

Deb called at about 7:30 and said she would be later that she had thought previously. Was that okay? She was very brief and sounded rather preoccupied. Uh-huh. Sure, baby, stay as long as you like.

So, Deb got a nice little unplanned sex date last night.

Which brings me to the jealousy issue. Was I jealous about this? No. I was slightly ... SLIGHTLY ... slightly miffed that Deb had turned me down earlier in the afternoon. We were showering together after the bike ride, and I asked if we could have just a 15 or 20 minute little lovemaking session. She said no, she really wanted to read and relax for a little while before having to start dinner.

It's really all about the timing. Before dinner, she still had stuff to do and things on her mind. Bad timing. After dinner, she was free for the rest of the evening. Good timing.

Sara and I have Monday nights together. Deb and Jake have gradually taken Sunday nights to have some time alone together. The usually just spend it next door with Deb massaging Jake.

But, as the wise goddesses of polyamory, Dossie Easton and Catherine Liszt, say, you've got to acknowledge the feeling, even if just to yourself.

You have to know the difference between a petty niggling jealousy sensation and a legitimate beef that you're not getting enough attention from your primary. As you can tell from my day-to-day life, I get plenty of wonderful attention from Deb. I was just feeling a bit petty.

So what's the lowdown? I am really happy that they got to have a sex date, but I want one for myself (with Deb) some time this week or next weekend.

I can't be pushy about it, though, because that makes things worse. Deb starts to feel guilty, and that makes her feel even less sexual. It's a fine line, Legionairres.

Deb was home before "Malcolm in the Middle" had gone off. She massaged my back, calves and feet while I read to her from "Murder at the Vicarage."

So do I have anything whatsoever to bitch about?

That'd be a big, NO.

All right. Let's go back a little bit in time. Yesterday after dinner, before Sara went to work, she wrapped herself around me from behind and whispered in my ear.

"A visit would be very welcomed tomorrow morning if the opportunity presents itself."

Natch, I set the alarm for 5:30 a.m. and waited for my opportunity present. And got it. Yipee!

We had about 45 minutes to play before I had to go home and get ready for work and do all my morning chores.

I put on my Joe the cop persona and whispered dirty suggestions and predictions for the upcoming date tonight. She seemed to like that well enough (huge understatement). Before I knew it, it was 7. I left her snoozing naked. Yum.

Just a couple more things to mention. My ass feels like somebody's kicked it hard about 20 times. Jeez. You'd think I'd have enough padding back there for a bike ride not to bother me. Apparently not.

Stupid Smoker Trick #2: The ashtray fumble

Most impressive display achieved while carrying the ashtray with the intent to empty its heaping smelly contents. The ashtray will get emptied, but not where you intended. Extra points for fumbling on an expensive or new carpet, or where there are small children playing in the area onto which old butts and ashes are clumsily flung.

I didn't get any of the extra points yesterday. I fumbled in the utility room where the the floor is linoleum. Didn't even get any fall-out on the cats.

Train spotting: Saw a little kid (about three) this morning poking the business end of an umbrella at her infant sibling in a stroller. Mom was completely oblivious.

And this quote from "Murder at the Vicarage":

"I had to reprove two of our choir boys for persistent sweet sucking during the hours of divine service, and I had an uneasy feeling that I was not doing the job as whole-heartedly as I should have done." �Mr. Clement, the Vicar

Guess which possible interpretation of this statement I prefer.

Having to run to Macy's to purchase a new pair of underwear because you pissed in yours from laughing: $8.95. Entries like this: Priceless.