Archive for the ‘Shut up I’m trying to be serious’ Category

I chopped my hair off. I sat down and said, “Cut the fucking mop to my chin.” And she did. I. Fucking. Love. It. Of course one of my male friends expressed extreme disappointment. I told him that he has to get over it. Why do men love long hair on women? Do they realize how much fucking work it is?

They probably love when a women runs her hair up and down his body. Whatever. Close your eyes and let her get a feather duster. Same thing.

I’ll take a picture of the new cut sometime next week. I always like to give a new haircut a week to settle.

I’m not cutting the crotch out of a pair of $70 stockings no matter how much they bind my ass and suffocate my cunt. If I cut a hole, I know that the fucker would run and my stockings would be ruined. I don’t have the money to replace these stockings every fucking week. Unless you people would like to click on the ‘Donate’ button and help a woman out.

The first thing when I got home today was tear my clothes off and lay on my bed free as a bird. It was glorious. Then I remembered I had to pee really bad. I lost the carefree moment after that so I put some clothes on. It was chilly anyhow.

I was thinking about the Pilot today. I haven’t heard from him in so long and I wish that things were different between us sometimes. It’s taken a long time to get to a place where I respect myself enough not to compromise what I want. Yet, I often think about how easy it would be to just throw all of that self-respect and ‘standards’ shit away and just be with him. Or anyone. The Pilot is not good for me. I know this and yet…

I go back and forth until I realize how unhappy I would eventually end up if I put my standards and wants to the side. It would be like going backwards. And remember, I said it’s all about progress. Life, love, dreams, standards, health, intelligence. If I’m not moving ahead, then I might as well give the fuck up and lie down and die. I can’t allow myself to go backward.

But, sometimes I slip. In my daydreams. In the nighttime dreams. That line between doing what’s easy instead of what is right for you. Always there. In everything we do.

Maybe I’m just lonely. It happens, you know?

To remind myself about what I want, I wrote a list. I’m cool like that. I published this list once a long time ago and I’ve included it here again because I think I need to be reminded of the things I really want and who I really am. Getting to the life you want is hard, but it’s better than settling.

Anyhow, this is my “List for Life”. I use this list to keep myself in check. It applies to lovers, friends, family, etc. Enjoy.

1. I want love and comfort. I want to be a wife. I want to be a mother.
2. I will never like or love you as much as I love myself and I expect you to love yourself that much too.
3. I want to laugh at least every hour.
4. I want someone to say goodnight to.
5. I want respect, common courtesy, and manners.
6. I want to be serious.
7. I don’t want be used or toyed with.
8. I want to be kissed on my neck, right below my left ear, every morning.
9. I don’t want you to cheat on me. Ever. I will never forgive it. And yes, I am a hypocrite.
10. Understand that I will need to be alone sometimes and that it has nothing to do with you.
11. I won’t tolerate ignorance. It’s poison to me. I will dump you on the spot.
12. I won’t tolerate being made a fool.
13. If you are pursuing me and you are serious about it, then you shouldn’t be seeing any other women (by ‘seeing’ I mean—kissing, holding hands with, touching the small of her back, smelling her hair, hugging for any other reason other than hello or goodbye). If you are, then you should forget about me.
14. You can expect me to obey #13 too.
15. I need a lot of sex. It’s just who I am. Some people eat a lot of chocolate. I need sex like that.
16. Try not to lie to me. I will try not to lie to you.
17. If you don’t like what I’m doing, tell me at the time. I will do the same. Holding anger in is not good.
18. I want to sit in silence. Comfortable silence.
19. I’m not so tough. I pretend to be. It’s called self-preservation. And it’s an act that I shouldn’t get away with. It’s good to be vulnerable sometimes and you must know me well enough to call me out on this.
20. I’m stubborn. And impatient. And sometimes a bitch.
21. I’m loyal to a fault. I’m protective. I will rip the skin off of anyone who hurts someone I love.
22. I’m hardly ever in a bad mood. I may act cranky or stressed out, but it’s never that deep. I’m usually laughing about it in 5 minutes.
23. I am not a push-over. Never mistake me for that.
24. I’m smarter than I let on. Trust me on this.
25. I might be smarter than you. You will have to be okay with this.
26. The only time I get embarrassed or really scared is when I talk about my feelings or my emotions or when someone gives me presents that are meaningful. Almost nothing else bothers me. Ask me if I love you and I might have a heart attack. Ask me about my bowel movements, I’ll give you my schedule. Give me flowers and I might pass out. Give me a dildo and I might give a demonstration on how to give good head…understand?
27. I am a very giving person. I’m always happiest when I can give someone something special. I like giving cards for no reason and leaving notes around or sending sweet things threw the mail. Of course, I’m an emotional retard when someone does the same for me.
28. I swear a lot. This should not bother you. I know in which social situations I have to use the appropriate words. At home, I will curse like a sailor.
29. I’m not an innocent. I’m not in need of rescue. I’m not going to pretend I am. You should feel strong knowing that I am strong.
30. I remember almost everything—especially the important stuff. The good and the bad. Don’t ever forget that.
31. I don’t like to fight. I don’t like to yell. I believe in peace.
32. Next time I’m feeling obnoxiously sad/confused/hopeless/self-destructive, I will call my mother. She has never lead me astray.

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I’m obsessed with birds. I love watching them in the air. Practicing their flying patterns. They way the soar overhead. I watch them with envy. Some say it’s the Aquarius in me. Air sign. Maybe I was a bird in another life.

My favorite birds are raptors. I often get mesmerized when I see them circling above my house. I have to stop what I’m doing and watch. I don’t know what I’m looking for. I just think they’re majestic. Have you ever seen a hawk or falcon close up? A golden eagle? They are so beautiful. So wild. Truly wild, you know. They look at you with eyes that startle you. Wise eyes. Eyes that you are honored to have land upon your own if only for a second.

Yoga is becoming something of a spiritual journey for me. It’s supposed to be. I find myself losing touch with the outside world as I work my body into the different asanas and practice my pranayama, I get a feeling that I can only describe as high. I get high from yoga. It’s like I’m tripping, moving from one pose to the next. Breath flowing. Ashtanga vinyasa yoga is slowly changing me. Making me better. Exalting me.

I wonder sometimes if this high feeling is like flying. I think of birds a lot while I’m in poses. Especially when holding challenging asanas. I think of my body being light like a birds. Being able to fly. Being buoyant. Muscles loose and flexible. When I doubt I can control my breath, I think of the time a hawk looked me in the eyes. For some reason, his eyes steady me. They ground me.

I know I sound like a fruit talking like this, but there is more to me than sex, boobs, and cursing. I only eat organic food. I only eat what I make myself. I have decided to treat my body like I would a god’s body. With respect and love. People treat their cars better than they treat their bodies. I’m not one of them.


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The older I get, the more ordinary I feel. I hate this feeling. It’s not enough for me. Everyday I wake up with all of these ideas and thoughts floating around in my head and I do nothing about it. It’s not intentional, but more of a mental block. As soon as I get prepared to do something about the idea, I lose my inspiration and what I write never sounds as good as it did when I first thought about it.

Oh, I’m talking about writing.

When I was a child, I was destined for greatness. Don’t laugh, I was. I was a star student. I won writing awards as a kid. I was in honors classes my whole life. I graduated with a 4.0 in college. I was what some people called audacious. I had that something.

And then I hit some bumps in the road. I grew older and realized that nobody cares how smart or talented you are. It’s all about who you know and how well you stroke their ego or blow sunshine up their ass. I’m not an ass kisser. I’m not the type to beg for anything.

Over the years, I can honestly say that my fire has diminished. I’m not so driven anymore. At work, yes. But my writing has suffered so much. It’s actually quite depressing. I read stuff I wrote when I was in my early twenties and I mourn. I really mourn. It’s weird.

I know I have it in me. Greatness. Maybe it’s a bit conceited to think that. I just know I have it in me. And it’s not even greatness as defined by others. I just want to do something that I think is great and be satisfied.

Yet, I’m afraid I’ll never be satisfied. I’m afraid that as I age, the weaker my grip on this greatness will become and I will look back on my life and see ordinary. I know some people don’t care about this sort of thing, but I do. The thought of being mediocre at anything breaks me down.

I have to find a way to get my fire burning hot again. Things need to change. I just need to figure out how to change them.

Here’s my question to you all…what was/is your dream life? Are you living it now? If you’re not, what happened?

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It was 62 years ago today we dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima. Approximately, 140,000 people died from this bomb in Hiroshima alone. Most of these people were civilians just going about their day.

3 days later, we dropped another atomic bomb on Nagasaki. Another 74,000 people dead. Mostly civilians.

In the years after, 160,000 people died from radiation poisoning.

Man is a disgusting creature.

We have no business being so righteous in this country.

Let’s hope nobody ever uses these types of bombs again. Although, I think that hoping for this might be a fool’s dream. I believe in my lifetime or my children’s that someone somewhere will be dumb and soulless enough to use nuclear weapons again.

“I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.”—Albert Einstein

“Let me say only this much to the moral issue involved: Suppose Germany had developed two bombs before we had any bombs. And suppose Germany had dropped one bomb, say, on Rochester and the other on Buffalo, and then having run out of bombs she would have lost the war. Can anyone doubt that we would then have defined the dropping of atomic bombs on cities as a war crime, and that we would have sentenced the Germans who were guilty of this crime to death at Nuremberg and hanged them?”—Leo Szilard

”He knew he was beginning the process of annihilation of the species. It was not just a war crime; it was a crime against humanity.”—Peter Kuznick about Harry Truman

“The Japanese had, in fact, already sued for peace. The atomic bomb played no decisive part, from a purely military point of view, in the defeat of Japan.”—Fleet Admiral Chester W. Nimitz, Commander in Chief of the U.S. Pacific Fleet

“The use of [the atomic bombs] at Hiroshima and Nagasaki was of no material assistance in our war against Japan. The Japanese were already defeated and ready to surrender.”—Admiral William D. Leahy, Chief of Staff to President Truman

It’s good to remember these things, so that they never happen again.

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They are always playing shows on TLC about morbidly obese people. I never pay these shows any mind, but last night I decided to watch one. Which lead to watching another. Which lead to watching another. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

I’ve lived my whole life battling a few pounds here and a few there. I watch what I eat and exercise. I don’t eat junk food. I rarely snack. I don’t drink much. I drink a ridiculous amount of tea when I get cravings. I stop eating when I’m full.

I watched these people eat and eat and eat and eat and eat, and it made me sick. For instance, this is what I typically eat in a day: 2 packets of oatmeal for breakfast, leftovers/sandwich/salad for lunch (this is usually my biggest meal of the day), and then whatever I make for dinner. I make everything from scratch and don’t eat portions bigger than my hand. That’s it. I allow myself 2 cups of coffee in the morning and then it’s water and tea the rest of the day. I work out 5-6 days a week.

Okay, so that’s pretty normal right?

Well, this is what the man on one show ate in a day: 2 dozen eggs used in a cheese omelet with one loaf of bread for toast and 1 package of bacon, 5 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for morning snack, 3 full-sized hoagies (subs for you weirdos out there) and a 2 liter bottle of soda, 2 burgers or 2 orders of Chinese food for afternoon snack….you know what, I just threw up a little in my mouth thinking about this. You get the point.

How does one get to this point? Doesn’t common sense kick in. I just don’t buy the ‘food addiction’ excuses either. You don’t get physically sick when you stop eating so much. Hunger pangs go away. Honestly, it’s okay to feel your stomach rumble. You’re not going to die. If you start getting a headache and dizzy, then go and eat. I sometimes feel hunger pangs up to an hour after I eat. I don’t know what causes it, but I certainly don’t go and eat again.

I guess what I’m wondering is, what causes someone to eat themselves to death? Is it a lack of love for oneself? Lack of self-control? Laziness?

And don’t they know when to stop. If you can’t walk on your own or wipe your own ass, I think that it’s a sign to stop eating and start taking care of yourself.

It pains me to see these people suffering like this, but I find this kind of gluttony disgusting. I don’t think I’m being ignorant saying that.

And by morbidly obese, I don’t mean you can pinch an inch…..I mean that you look something like this.

That’s all.

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This is going to be an interesting post, huh? So, if you’re easily offended or a crybaby or whatever you may want to come back another time. I’m going to be giving my opinion about religion and why most have waged war on the almighty cunt.

But first…

I had sex this weekend. Gorgeous, glorious, gooey sex. With whom? The Pilot.

Now before some of you give me the lecture about this man or whatever, let me explain something to you. I’m not in love with him or have any delusions regarding his intentions with me. We fucked. We talked. He went home and I got a great night’s sleep. The end.

What was weird about the night was when he asked me why we couldn’t make it work. I told him that I needed someone with a heart. He laughed and said, “Tin Man.” “Something like that,” I said. This conversation took place before we even started fooling around.

At some point mid-coitus he looked at me and said that he could be someone with a heart if I needed that. I laughed and told him the only reason he’s saying that was because he was inside me, then I squeezed him hard with my vaginal muscles and told him to shut up and fuck me.

After he left that night, I really thought about what he said and wondered why men say these things in the throes of passion. Either to get us in bed or when they are inside us. Things that after the erection is gone and juices are spent are either forgotten or just lies to begin with. And men wonder why women get angry.

Then I started thinking about the past, not mine but history, and I wondered about men and women and their struggle with each other. I thought about the power that I hold, and all women hold, between their legs. Cunt. Uterus. Life.

More women have died because of man’s jealousy and lack of power over our cunts than anything. I thought about religion and how these modern theologies regard women as either evil, weak, whore. God is a man and therefore man are more divine because they possess a penis. Phallus equals power is what they would have you believe. Adam’s rib.

I’m gonna call that bluff.

I think that power has always been with us females. The first sex, if you believe in evolution. There was a time when a woman’s power was revered. When whores and mothers and priestess’ were all held with high esteem for their place in society. Where the word virgin wasn’t even in the language and there were ceremonies that broke a girl’s hymen when she got her first period. A time where women were worshipped because they represented life. Power. Love. Cunt.

Then some man decided to use physical brute and power to ‘control’ women and thus started the era of ‘Patriarchy’. God. Male. Phallic. Power.

The only way men could control the power women had was to brutalize them, beat them down, take away their rights, strip them of their dignity, and of their sexuality. Sexual slavery, rape, assault, witch hunts, arranged marriage, circumcision, etc…

We start seeing this sexism in the Egypt, Japan, China, India, Greece, and Rome in the ancient times. But, at least there were female good to appease and so, the feminine was represented. Whores were highly regarded and important members of society in these cultures. Even in this country in the early part of the 1900’s, brothels and bordellos were popular places for both men and women to hang out and their proprietors were important members of society. No stigma was attached to these places or these women. They were thought to be doing society a favor, relieving men of their pent up passions so that they didn’t take them out on the unwilling. Sounds good to me.

It wasn’t until we started seeing a monotheistic belief system that women were pushed to the background. Chattel. Our cunts didn’t belong to us. They belonged to our fathers and our husbands.

Hundreds, even thousands, of years later and nothing has changed. Men are still in awe of our cunts. They express it in different ways now. Why is pornography such a huge industry? Why is prostitution such a lucrative business? Why do strippers make the money they do? I think to reduce men to pigs or rendering them as overly sexed isn’t the answer. I think that all humans like to see sex and get off on watching it, but it’s the heterosexual sex that is the biggest selling point and I think it’s because men are drawn to this powerful thing we have. For those who argue this, think about the ratio of men paying for sex vs. women paying for sex. Think about what women strippers/porn stars make vs. male strippers/porn stars. It’s no contest.

Throughout time, women have known that men will do almost anything to get inside us. Some men may deny this, but I would like to say that from personal experience I know this to be true. I think the scariest thing to a man is a woman who knows her power and how to use it. Bitch. Whore. Slut. Many mature men will probably agree with me about this power, the young ones not knowing much of sexual politics and not having much sexual experience with self evolved women.

I don’t know where I’m going with this. I just had to get it out of my head. I’ve been thinking about it since yesterday. I know, if I wanted to, I could make a man give me whatever I wanted and I’m sure there are other women out there who know this to be true. I just wonder what would happen if all women were taught how to use their sexuality, in a positive way, at an early age. What if they knew that we had god living in our cunts? I wonder how different the world would be.

Maybe it’s all rubbish. Maybe I’m a nut. This is just my stream of thought. I wish I could think about simple things like shoes. Or purses. Or what color I should paint my toenails. Ugh.

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Today I was assaulted. By my uterus. It was a sneak attack. That bitch brought on my period 2 weeks early.

I went to tinkle at approximately 9:30 AM and pulled my favorite white panties down to see them completely ruined. These are my dirty schoolgirl panties. They have ruffles. They are awesome.

And now, they are in the trash.

I also had diarrhea this afternoon. I’m sure you all want to know all about it. I can honestly say that I’m baffled by how I could shit that much when I’ve hardly eaten in the past 3 days. I’m on a very strict diet this week. Oatmeal for breakfast. Banana for snack. Salad with no dressing for lunch. Grapes for snack. One bowl of raisin bran for dinner. What the fuck? I was on the toilet for 20 minutes and I was pooing the whole time, courtesy flushing a gazillion times. I hate when this happens at work.

And why does the handicapped stall make me feel safer when pooing at work?

Can someone explain the whole Emo thing to me? I don’t get it.

You know what I hate? When people celebrate an accomplishment by putting other people down. I read a post this week that did just that and it completely turned me off to that person. There’s no need to be that hateful.

Speaking of hateful, you know what I find disgusting? Women who turn their back on other women. I hate when a woman states that she gets along with men better than women. When I hear that it’s like a big warning goes off in my head that says, “Don’t trust this one”. Women who say this are the kind of women who stab other women in the back.

I have always surrounded myself with other women. I love men, don’t get me wrong, but surrounding myself with women friends makes me feel secure. I know that they are there for me and know, really know, the things I’m going through. Women have a kind of compassion that men don’t have. I don’t mean that men aren’t compassionate, I’m just saying that it’s in a woman’s nature to be more nurturing and empathetic than men. That’s why I surround myself with women. I would be happy in the red tent with my soul sisters talking and sharing stories and legacies.

And if you are a woman who thinks that female traits or being feminine or surrounding yourself with women equals weakness, then I want no part of you.

I have a weird dilemma. I think chivalry is dead, but do I have any right wanting men to be hold doors for me when I want men to treat me like an equal? I mean, I hold doors for everyone (cause my mama taught me good) and try to be courteous all of the time. But, for instance, when I get up from my train seat and there’s a man sitting in the seat across the aisle I always think it’s rude if he doesn’t let me exit first. Is this wrong? Is this the price of equality? Am I just wanting to have my cake and to eat it too? (whatever that means, who would want a cake and not want to eat it)

That’s all I have right now. My period has made me ridiculously horny, so I’m going to take a cold shower cause I’m so fucking bored with masturbation that I just want the horniness to go away rather than have an orgasm. I’m so sad I just wrote that. I just need a man. A fuck friend who is also nice to me and gives me massages and brings me presents and runs me a bath and who is also my boyfriend.

Okay, I’m really finished with this post now. I have to be or I’m going to keep saying embarrassing things.


(Edit): I don’t think I clearly communicated what I was talking about with this whole women friendship stuff. I’ve been so tired this week, please forgive me. I’m talking about women who only hang out with men, not us normal people that have both men and women as friends. You know that woman, the one who has almost no real women friends. The real kind of friends, not the kind you hang out with occasionally. (Emotionally supporting, will come over and clean your house when you’re sick, first person you call when anything important happens to you kind of friend.) I know you know at least one of these woman-hating women. The one who puts down her own sex in a heartbeat. I’m talking about that woman. And for the record, if you have women friends that are stabbing you in the back you should get rid of them. Not all women are like this. Men stab each other in the back too and I hate that people mainly associate that kind of behavior with women.

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It’s time to ask me anything you want. The rules are simple.

  1. You can ask me anything you want. I can’t promise I’ll answer it, but you all know that I’ll try.
  2. The question doesn’t have to be of a personal nature, you can ask me about things in the world. I have a lot of useless shit stored up in my brain and it would be nice to air the shit out.
  3. Don’t be an asshole. If you don’t like me or don’t have anything nice to say, go away.
  4. Leave the questions in the comments. Let’s have fun.

Go here to see the other Q/A sessions.

Now before you start with the questions, let me ask you all something. If I hosted my own radio show, would you listen to it? Yes, for those of you thinking it…I totally got the idea from DD and Elle (please, you all know they are about 1000 times funnier than me anyhow). It’s just someone brought it up to me today and I’m seriously thinking about it. I promise it will be funny and you all will have the opportunity to call in and chat with me. So, is anyone interested in listening to me talk for a half hour a week?

Now, ask me something…….

Fleas Thoughts asked me:

OK—because I just sprung for rhapsody and I need new stuff to listen too. What are your top 10 musical favs that aren’t mainstream?

Well, as someone who doesn’t listen to the radio at all (just NPR), I don’t even know what’s mainstream anymore. I watched the Grammy’s this year and had no idea what was going on. My top 10 faves are:

1. Tori Amos (her new album is amazing, I haven’t stopped listening to it)
2. PJ Harvey
3. Kate Bush
4. Tool
5. Sleater-Kinney
6. Beth Orton
7. Radiohead (I knew they’re pretty famous, but they are hardly mainstream)
8. Tricky
9. The Roots
10. Bjork

Shadowdog asks:

What is your opinion of people who break up with someone via email or text message as opposed to in person or over the phone?

I’m going to be very honest here and say that I think that person, who breaks up via email or text, is a pussy. It’s completely disrespectful and a bit pathetic. Assuming that the relationship was more than a week old and assuming that the person was intimate (doesn’t matter if it was kissing or cumming), I’d say that the best way to break up with someone is to have the balls to do it in person. I even think that people who break up over the phone are assholes. The problem with these pussy break-up artists is that they always say the same thing….they don’t want to deal with hurting the other person or being the bad guy/girl. Sometimes you gotta be the bad guy. And yes, I think it’s men who break up like this most of the time. I think they believe that they are destroying our world if they break up with us. Guess what, we’ll get over it. I know from my own and my friends experiences that they only time a girl really freaks out about someone breaking up with her is when they do it by any other means than sitting her down and telling her to her face.

coyote mike asks:

If you could redesign your clothing, what would you change?

I don’t remember talking about this, but I’ll answer the question anyway. Everybody knows I have large breasts. It’s very difficult for me to find shirts that look right on me. They are usually very tight across the chest, even though they fit me perfectly everywhere else. If I buy a shirt that fits across my chest, I end up having to get it tailored because it’s huge everywhere else. Even t-shirts and tank tops are annoying. If a shirt is low-cut, it looks like I’m falling out of it. I have a low-cut shirt on today and I have to layer it with a camisole in order to look presentable.

I also get annoyed about the amount of money I have to spend on bras. Unfortunately, I can’t buy a cheap ass bra. I need one that will actually support me and these are expensive. About $40 a pop. The same with sports bras. I can’t wear the ones that they sell at Target or Sports Authority. I have to special order mine, go here if you’re interested, at $52 each. But, if I want to run I need something that will hold me still. I don’t want me breasts at my knees when I get old.

I love my breasts a lot and they really are a lot of fun, they are also a huge source of annoyance and frustration to me. I probably spend a good $300-400 on just bras alone in one year. It’s ridiculous.

So, I would love to make shirts and bras for large chested women who aren’t plus-sized that is affordable and pretty.

march to the sea asks:

1) You have food and water on deserted island, what 3 other things would you want?
2) What do “you” think happens when you die?
3) Boxers or briefs?
4) You can make any 2 “junk food” items have all the benefits of say an apple…what 2 do you pick?
5) You can cure AIDS or Cancer with the snap of a finger, but only one..which one?
6) If you could live anywhere in the world for a year (all expenses paid) where would that be?
7) Growing up what were some of your dream jobs?
8) What is more important health care or education as far as federal funding?
9) If you could change one thing in “blogger” what would it be?
10) Does your chewing gum lose its flavor on the bedpost over night?

For crying out loud, 10 questions!!!
1. A lifetime supply of razors (I hate hairy legs), matches, a blanket. I hate questions like this cause I’m never going to be stranded on a desert island.
2. I think your body rots and your soul walks around until it finds a place to be reborn.
3. I don’t wear either (I wear panties), but I like men in boxer briefs or boxers.
4. Ice cream and peanut mm’s.
5. Cancer because people can protect themselves from contracting AIDS (for the most part).
6. Moorea, in one of these.
7. I wanted to be a doctor or a teacher.
8. Healthcare. We can’t learn if we’re sick or dead.
9. I wish it had the feature where you could block certain commenters, either from their email address, username, or IP address. WordPress has this feature and I would love if Blogger created one of its own.
10. I don’t chew gum.

obesio asks:

If we assume that sexual interaction can lead to a great deal of pleasure, why is it so challenging to get women to agree to engage in regular sexual contact outside of a relationship? For example, assume that I work in a busy building with many offices and that I regularly see a comely young woman from another company. Assume further that the attraction is mutual. I would like to suggest to her that during our lunch hour we find a private place where we can engage in mutually stimulating sexual activity. Yet the mere suggestion would be considered repulsive, disgusting, disgraceful and disrespectful. Why is this so? Why is making a suggestion of a shared activity that two people might enjoy so out of bounds?

This question is ridiculous. I’m not answering it. Like I said in my comment, I wouldn’t eat lunch with a stranger, let alone fuck them. Why? AIDS, hepatitis, genital warts, gential herpes, crabs, syphilis, clamydia, gonorrhea, trichomoniasis, pelvic inflammatory disease, etc…Besides women can fuck anyone they want, so we have the luxury of being picky and it being on our own terms.

tanique asks:

If you have one curiosity driven sexual encounter with a women, that was completely toe curling and you reminisce about it often, does that make you bi-sexual considering you still continue to enjoy sex with men and haven’t crossed over since then but would not be completely against trying it again.

WHAT!!!!!!! I’m coming over to your desk right after I answer this. Ahem…..okay, now I’m ready to answer.

I think to some degree we’re all bi-sexual. Some more than others. If the sex was “completely toe curling” and it made you feel good and you fantasize about it, then what’s the harm in doing it again. You can enjoy both. It’s a shame that society makes us put our sexuality in categories. I say, have fun. As long as nobody’s getting led on and having their feelings trampled on, what’s the harm in having some amazing sex.

coyote mike asks:

Have you, or would you, pose nude for a painting?

No, I haven’t. And yes, I would.

j.j. gittes asks:

Why was I born a muggle?

Right! I wish there was some sort of transfiguration spell that could make muggles wizards. I want to live in that world. It’s awesome.

shadowdog asks:

If Harry Potter dies, would that render the series unreadable to you? I mean, here we are plowing through seven books and millions of words, spending on this time with the guy, and then he fucking dies in the end, after all that? I’m sure I’d eventually be able to read the series again but I’d be pissed for a long time. On the other hand, killing him could be considered “keeping it real” and would be very ballsy on her part.

(also, just to respond to your answer to my first question, I’m on a winning streak where the last three relationships I’ve been in the breakup came from the woman, it completely blindsided me because they never communicated their issues with me, and it happened via [in order] the phone, a text message, and an email. I either need to stop sucking as a boyfriend or start dating technophobes. Of course then she’d tape a letter to fridge. LMFAO)

First of all, let me remove my foot from my mouth. I’m so sorry. You just need to stop dating assholes. Now, onto Harry Potter….I would be really angry if Harry dies in this last book. I think it would be disrespectful to her fans to do that. We’ve been on this amazing journey, routing for this boy….all to have him die. This is a story that needs to end happily. The main theme throughout the whole series has been good versus evil and choosing between what is easy and what is right. I believe that Snape will die saving Harry. He has a Life Debt to James Potter that he never had a chance to pay back and I believe he feels that he has to save Harry in order to be square with James. I also think that his killing Dumbledore was part of a greater plan of Dumbledores. I believe Peter Pettegrew will also die saving Harry. He also has a Life Debt to Harry, because Harry stopped Sirius and Lupin from killing him. I don’t believe it to be Harry that kills Voltemort. I think that Voltemort will be killed while battling Harry when their wands make another Priori Incantem and in that moment when Voltemort is connected with Harry, he will be killed. I could be wrong, but that’s what I think. I also think we’ll learn that Harry is Godric Griffendorf’s heir and that Fawkes will come to him.

Okay, enough of my nerdiness.

steph asks:

Do you have a current blog crush? And if so, give us a clue as to whom the lucky dude is.

Now, that’s a great question. I have a four blog crushes. They are all on the sidebar. One’s initials are my bra cup size. Another one is from the land of the Celts. I like to flirt with yet another. One is funnier than anyone I know. Two are married. Two aren’t. One is a woman.

bonnie asks:

Have you a favorite sex toy you would like to recommend?

I’m pretty much a Good Vibes girl. I love the Rabbit Pearl. I remember when I first got mine I would sit at work and fantasize about using it when I got home. I also love my dildo. It’s been a pleasure to use alone or with my partner. It’s also perfect for practicing anal sex. It’s silicone, so it washes up really well. I just bought one of these and OH MY GOD!!!!!! It’s so smooth and it’s amazing to heat it or put it in the freezer for a few minutes and play with your nipples. The grooves make the friction delicious. And my favorite sex toy of all time (I think I’ve bought 4 of these in my lifetime), the one I use everyday is the Hitachi Magic Wand. It’s a bit bulky and old fashioned looking, but try it. Honestly, the whole neighborhood will hear your screaming your orgasms. I’ve even used this on my partner, at a low speed at the base of his penis right above his balls. He’ll shout the neighborhood down too.

jr estelle asks:

This is an opinion question, because I really don’t see any supporting evidence..why does it seem like the men and/or women who treat women like shit are ALWAYS the ones that “get the girl?”

They always get the girl, but do they ever keep the girl? I think, as I get older, that I’m less tolerant of being treated like shit. I think I deserve to be treated like a queen. It’s taken me a long time to get here, but I deserve EVERYTHING that I want. Once you realize this and stop settling for less, those assholes don’t have any power of you. Why am I single? Because I don’t accept being treated like shit. Those playa’s will get theirs. Let them get the girl today. If they don’t learn how to treat people with respect, they’ll be alone and lonely tomorrow.

Sheesh, I just ranted like a nut. Sorry.

paul champagne asks:

Have you ever kissed and told?

Of course I have.

lex asks:

Question: What clubs/teams were you on in high school and college?

In high school: I was in the Key Club, SADD, Class Treasurer, goalie for the varsity field hockey team, a cheerleader for winter sports, honor society, and an all-state pitcher for the softball team. I went to college on a softball scholarship. I used to be able to throw a ball underhand at 75 mph. In college: I played softball and graduated with a 4.0, and that was enough!

shadowdog asks:

Okay I’m back because I just finished having an argument with a male friend of mine. He claims that women are just as nasty as men in public bathrooms. I claim they have to be cleaner than men because MAYBE one in four guys washes their nasty hands after using the bathroom. Women can’t be that bad can they? How nasty does it get in there?

Women are disgusting. Pee on the floor and toilet seat. Tampons on the floor. Blood on the floor. Shit on the walls. Toilet paper everywhere. Boogers on the stall walls. Toilets clogged. And just as many women don’t wash their hands. And that’s just at my job.

obesio asks:

Here is a new question. What do you think of this excerpt from a scholarly paper?

When approached by an opposite-sex stranger who immediately makes an invitation for casual sex, 75% of men said yes, whereas 100% of women said no (Clark & Hatfield, 1989). When asked to consider minimum requirements for long-term mates, both sexes had relatively high standards for various characteristics; however, only men significantly lowered their standards for short-term partners, especially for one-night stands (Kenrick et al., 1990; Kenrick et al., 1993; Regan, 1998).

The excerpt is interesting, however I can’t form an opinion from two sentences. However, I don’t think the data from the excerpt says anything that isn’t already known.

Here’s my problem. Considering the comments you’ve left here, I feel like your questions aren’t coming from a respectful place. There is more to me than sex and yet, I don’t think you have ever commented or asked me something that doesn’t have to do with sex. It’s tedious and freaks me out a bit. And I feel like you’re mocking me with the question above, since it’s basically the same question you asked before.

mg asks:

Am I a current blog crush?

If not, (damn), what do you look for in a blog crush?

I like funny, grounded people who aren’t psychos or stalkers. And yes, you’re the girl crush. Shhhh, it’s supposed to be a secret!

oneman asks:

You have a passion for cooking. Are there any cookery shows that you watch for ideas?

I love Nigella Bites, Everyday Italian, Boy Meets Grill, Molto Mario, Emeril, Barefoot Contessa, and Paula Dean. I mostly watch the Food Network and always get ideas from those shows.

obesio asks:

Please disregard all prior inquiries. Totally new question: Have you ever been at a movie where almost everyone was laughing but you, or been at a movie where no one was laughing but you?

Yes. I saw Fargo in the movie theater and was laughing my ass off. Unfortunately, no one else thought the movie was funny and I was getting dirty looks throughout the entire thing. Which, of course, made everything even funnier.

joey porter’s pit bulls asks:

How’s the novel coming along?

Someone remembered! How sweet. It’s going well. I’ve been writing a lot. I’ve created another blog, which will feature some parts of the book. The blog isn’t on Blogger and will invite only because of nature of the material of the book. I haven’t invited anyone to read it yet and I’m not sure if I’m going to. I have to get a little braver.

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I first want to thank everyone for their nice thoughts. My heart was a little broken, but I’m kind of over it now. Kelli and I have been talking, almost endlessly since Tuesday, and we’ve decided that we are all kind of shocked by this. She spoke with John and guess what he said? He thought that he could save me like his friend saved him and led him to the Promise Keepers. He said I was nice and sexy, he thought I was worth his time. I suppose I was his Mary Magdalene to his Jesus or whatever. Such an arrogant statement. I don’t need to be saved. I live a good honest life. If, at the time of my death, I find out that there is indeed one god who will pass judgment on me I have no worries.

Anyhow, so much didn’t add up with John that it hurt my brain to think about it. I wish he would have been up front with me. I would have saved myself lots of energy and time. We just never talked about religion. I can usually tell when things aren’t going to jive and he fooled the shit out of me. He rented the DaVinci Code for crying out loud. Who would have thought?

I also want to say that I have no problem with Christians. I was raised Episcopal and my mother converted to Catholicism several years ago. I sometimes go to Christmas mass with my parents. It’s beautiful. I believe the bible, later gospels, agnostic texts, old testament, and many scriptures to be some of the most interesting books and stories ever written. I love biblical history and believe that the things Jesus preached were full of goodness. It’s man who has tainted what Jesus taught.

Most of my friends are Christian. I accept all people. I would never judge someone solely on their religious beliefs. ANY religious belief. As long as you’re nice to me and respect my beliefs, I respect yours.

But zealots are scary and the Promise Keepers are what I describe as zealots. My problem with John is the particular organization he belongs to. They scare me. They are cultish. They believe that women should submit to men, as they are the leaders of the household. That’s just one reason why I don’t like them. Some of their leaders have been accused of being racist as well. That is unacceptable to me.

So, that’s all I have to say about that. I’m moving on.

This week is proving to be crap. Work sucks, I can’t sleep, it’s rainy and chilly, and I have a big case of the blahs. I want a mulligan.

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What if you had a life experience so powerful and so life changing and so controversial that saying the words to the story anywhere outside the confines of your head scares the shit out of you?

I have a story. A good one. One that would break the hearts of my family members. One that would make people judge me and hate me. One that could potentially ruin friendships, both present and future.

It’s a story that I’m removed from enough that it’s itching to get told. Not here. This story has no place in this medium. This story is something books are made from.

It’s all I think about, this time in my life. It influences every decision I make in my life. It influences my words here, and how I think about each and every one of you. These aren’t always bad things. But, let’s just say that I see things from a different perspective than most women. Not in a better way, just different.

I’m very choosy about the things I tell people regarding my past. Believe me when I say that you all haven’t even glimpsed at half of who I am. This part of my story is especially hidden. I would even lie about it to protect myself.

Writing about this time in my life may be cathartic or demon slayingish. For a long time, I couldn’t even think about it without being overcome with fear, so writing about it was out of the question. But I can now see it with clear eyes and I’m trying to sort through it, especially how I feel about it. But, to put those words out there is harder than I thought it would be. I could write it as fiction, but I don’t think I’m that good of a liar. There are things about this life experience that only the one who walked in those shoes would be able to describe how soles got worn. You know what I mean?

Anyhow, my question is…..if you had something like this in your past (and no I didn’t murder anyone), would you write the story?

*** If you must know, you can email me but have faith in that I will not tell everyone what happened. So, please forgive me if I’m not interested in divulging this secret to every last one of you. Only the people whom I trust and am close to will know. The rest of you should be happy with what I’ve already given you.

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