tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55939280371934902112024-03-05T19:21:47.903-05:00Sordid Stories of a Slick Silly SlutUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger74125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-2529730128793919172013-08-10T22:05:00.005-04:002013-08-10T22:05:50.492-04:00Cute Or Creepy? Rule number one of wooing: If you have to ask yourself if it would be cute or creepy to do something... Just refrain from doing it. Please. <br />
<br />
Example number one:<br />
I was recently talking to a friend when feelings were thought be to be deeper then what they were (We will call him William). I typically dont have time for all those shenanigans, but I thought Id give the poor sap a shot (mistake number one). After a few weeks, we found ourselves arguing more then we were getting a long. Typically a big red flag to just call it quits, off rip. So then he turned into the girl of the relationship... Pulling the, "Dont ever talk to me again." and would proceed to text me the next day pouring his heart into a lovely 25 page text message. And I would flat out tell him, I didnt have time for that nonsense. Not to mention those texts wouldnt come in order. Naturally I blew him off, Told him not more, shut the door and locked that bitch. BUT THIS MOTHERFUCKER WAS NOT HAVING IT. The sappy text message books turned into hate-books, and then right back to being sappy. Talk about emotional whip lash.<br />
<br />
Weeks of no contact went by and I thought I was in the clear. So Im at work, focusing on the one thing Im passionate about that didnt involve sweaty, naked body's. And Out of the corner of my eye I see a grey shirt swift by with the mother fucking quickness. All I hear is my Co-worker say, "That was so weird.." in her valley girl voice. So I look up and out of the window, and I see this crazy man, William, scuffling away. Look down on the bench, my favorite order from Taco Bell and a burnt cd sat out on the bench.<br />
<br />
No warning... Nothing. A random drop off of food and music. Cute or creepy?<br />
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<br />
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Example number two: (this one wont be quite the novel)<br />
Having an easy day at work. Not overly booked, Not completely dead. Smooth sailing, especially when all your co-workers are in good moods. By the time I get out of work its dark, and thank you to the buddy system, I was walking out listening to another girl rant about her, Boyfriend-thats-not-a-boyfriend. I get out out to my car, go to unlock it and LOW AND BEHOLD, There is a bouquet of flowers, a bag of my favorite chocolate and a very sappy Hallmark card signed, "Miss you." And I flip. Halfway freaking out, half way fucking livid. All I could think: Was it William? Is he in the parking lot? Is this motherfucker watching me? Was it the ex of Christmas past? Was it a complete random? Was it the current flavor of the month?<br />
<br />
First thing out of my friends mouth who was with me, "Your love life is catastrophic." Fuck you, thirsty bitch. Anywho, So I call the one person I lightweight HOPED it could be from and he had no clue where my company is even located. Fuck. fuckfuckfuck. So I narrow it down to two people. I message them both, and I play coy. Very well. William made sure not to respond until he knew I would be fucking asleep (I know how he works and he knows waking me up will piss me off enough to pay him attention. Which didnt work because I knew what he was aiming for). And then The Ex of Christmas Past danced very well around the questions I was asking.<br />
<br />
After a few games of twenty questions. I had the answer I wanted, and One very salty ass William, because it wasnt him.<br />
<br />
Cute or Creepy that an ex that I have only talked to enough, since we broke up, to argue with and call each other names would drop off two of my favorite things, in my car, at my place of working? <br />
<br />
<br />
Dont get me wrong, I get a soft spot in my heart when the person Im letting see me naked, at the time, shows a bit a chivalry... But from a random-gone-sour-ex? I dont know.<br />
<br />
<br />
Obviously I need do more in depth background checks when it comes to introducing men to Narnia. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-21400521630433565042013-08-08T21:20:00.002-04:002013-08-09T09:54:50.661-04:00True Text. Rachet Style.Ladies and Gentleman.<br />
Happy Friday! This is Rachet, the new co-admin. I will be sharing my favorite stories of the most filthy things I can myself into. From blunt, hurtful truths, all the way down to the hate-fucks. But I dont have time for people who get butt-hurt easily... So keep that negative shit to yourselves.<br />
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Are you finding yourself wonder where this random lady came from to co-blog. Well it was quite the epiphany. One text sent and it was pretty much set in stone:<br />
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"Sooo. Im telling you this because you'll be the only one that understands. My lay last night ended with a high five and a reference to my vag being Narnia." It was basically Texts From Last Night Style.</div>
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We have always shared our dirty secrets and stories, but in light of recent events. The timing is just perfect. I will answer any, and all questions. Just keep in mind, I am not quite the novel writer my Silly Slut is, But I can guarantee to keep you entertained.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-63415050100477698082013-05-13T13:17:00.000-04:002013-05-13T13:17:52.767-04:00Warning! You may be offended by this post. So, yesterday was Mother's Day, and I guess I said some severely inflammatory things. I was eaten alive by strong minded women and women with infertility issues. But the thing is, I wasn't trying to offend anyone. I really wasn't. But I was offended by posts all over Facebook commending women who have pets, on a day meant for women who have paced the floor at three am smelling like vicks vapor rub and formula. Women who have gone to parent teacher conferences covered in snot, hair in a pony tail because she couldn't get the time to brush it before herding children into a minivan.<br />
<br />
The day to day jobs of motherhood aren't easy. It is a thankless, frustrating job. The pay sucks and the retirement is nil. The only long term benefits we get are grandchildren and if we did a good job, we don't have to worry about getting thrown into the state funded nursing home. It is a job we have FOR.THE.REST.OF.OUR.LIVES. We can't just buy another if it runs away. There is nothing on this Earth that can change that I am a mother, I will be a mother until the day I die. I was lucky, I carried and birthed one of the pregnancies I have experienced. No, I didn't get the chance to raise every pregnancy I carried. It was sheer dumb luck that the second pregnancy took, and I was going to be a mother. I have been pregnant three times. I have one living child. I understand the heartache and the pain, physical and emotional, of losing someone you don't know yet.. but love with everything in your being.<br />
<br />I don't hate pets. Common misconception. I adore pets, and have had many of them through my life. Even right now, I would love to get a kitten or a puppy, but where we live, we can't have pets. Some of you may remember not too long ago I had a puppy... I posted pics of her on my page. I was in love with her. Sadly, she passed away, and we buried her in the backyard, under a tree she would lay under. I cried for two days. Then, my life went on. Maybe it is the rational part of my mind that can make the distinction between the bond I can have with a pet, and the bond I can have with a child. And there is no comparison.<br />
<br />
I am not trying to diminish anyone's feelings for what is in their lives, what tethers them to the world. And if you feel that way, I am truly sorry. But to me, being a pet owner is worlds different than being a parental figure in a human child's life. And I am honestly confused how anyone could compare the two.<br />
<br />
In my life, there is a wonderful woman. She is beautiful, loving, smart, and would make a damn fine mother. Her heart is so full of the love that she could give to her own child, but her husband refuses to adopt, and says he is comfortable with his life the way it is. So, she will never be able to be a mother. She has resigned to that, spent her tears on it, and is moving on with her life. She has two dogs, and a cat. She loves her pets, hell I love her pets! If I could grant magic wishes, I would wave a magic wand and she would be pregnant, and all her dreams would come true. But I can't. So I won't. I will be there for her when she needs to cry and rage against God for what he's cheated her out of. But I will be DAMNED if I rub it in her face that she's not a mom... WHY THE FUCK WOULD I WISH HER A HAPPY MOTHERS DAY?!?!? Why would I want to remind someone that that I love, they are missing out? It's offensive. It's abhorred. It's catty. She is an intelligent woman, she knows there is a difference. She wouldn't expect her husband to buy her a card, and sign it with the names of their pets, or buy her a bouquet of flowers in their honor. She very well may have looked at him strangely if he had. Bae is amazing, and dotes on her nieces and nephews. She loves them with everything she has, and they become... because of her love, her children.<br />
<br />
I know another woman, who rejoices in her four legged family. I am okay with that, have your pets, love your pets, because if you don't, you shouldn't have them. But she touts that it is the same as being a real mommy. And people support her view. This seems like madness to me. She wants children someday, and shouldn't have any problem having them. She's just in a selfish point in her life, and she doesn't want to give up what she has in order to sacrifice for a human child. THIS IS WHERE MY ISSUE IS!!!! My issue isn't for those women who are struggling, and hurting from the desire to hold that warm bundle of flesh that can not function without them. My heart goes out to each and every one of you. I've been there. I know how hard it is to go to the mall and see a newborn and have to lock yourself in the stall of a public bathroom to cry. I know how hard it is to not hate your friend who had "an accident" and is now pregnant with a child she doesn't want or need. I wish upon wishes and hope upon hope that with every passing day, there are fewer of you who know this pain, and mote of you that know the sheer panic of hearing "Mommy, smell this."<br />
<br />
I have the issue with women who are too selfish and too busy to have a child, yet they think they deserve the same accolades every woman who has DONE THE JOB deserves. It's not true. They don't deserve that. Maybe a pat on the head for taking in a stray, but c'mon now, you really think you deserve an orchid for putting food in a bowl and installing a doggy door??? You can hate me for this, but no. No, you don't. You don't deserve the macaroni necklaces, and the paper doily cards. You don't deserve dinner, or any other gifts bestowed on a mother for Mother's Day. And these are the women that diminish the meaning of Mother's Day, and it takes away from the women who deserve it. My mother worked 60 hours a week when I was growing up. She made sure there was dinner on the table and our house was clean. She listened to secrets and would set aside special time with each of us girls to let us know she was there for us. THAT is a mother. THAT is what deserves the accolades. Not some selfish lazy wench who has a few dogs. <br />
<br />
I am really trying not to rant, but I might be doing it anyways. I am okay with that. I was told yesterday that I am not humble in my opinions, and that there is no maybe about it, I am a bitch. I am okay with that too. I am not humble in my beliefs. I shouldn't have to be. No one should be. If you agree with me, GREAT. If you don't, WONDERFUL. I'm not trying to change your mind. I'm not telling you that EVERYONE HAS TO ABIDE BY MY BELIEF SYSTEM!! I am just voicing my frustrations in a dark room. Maybe someone will hear them, maybe not. One small voice in Ohio isn't going to change the world... and that's not even what I am trying to do. Say what you want, wish Happy Mother's Day to who ever you wish... that's your right. It's also my right to not agree with it. I want to take a moment to say that I hope that all mothers of human children had a wonderful day yesterday, this includes, adopted/foster/step mothers.... And to those struggling with conception, I pray this year was your last year struggling.<br />
<br />
I hope I haven't lost too many with this post, but if I have... I wish you the best life you can have. I won't beg you to stay, but I am sorry to see you go.<br />
<br />
*Big Sloppy Whett Kisses*<br />
~Slut Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-44427523002269604172013-03-06T00:42:00.001-05:002013-03-06T00:42:47.149-05:00How I spent my day....<br />
So, today I had an appointment to go looking for a bridal gown. No, we haven't set a date, we aren't even discussing a date except in terms of what year. I'd like to think 2015-2016 but could (in all honest possibilities) be as late as 2018-2019.<br />
<br />
My outlook is this... the sooner I know WHAT I want, the better. And since my mom passed away a year ago last October, I knew starting this process was going to be a little painful. I know she would want to see pictures of what I was picking, and discuss music, flowers, and all the things that go into planning a wedding. She would have amazingface ideas, and the sagest advice. Doing this without her seems cruel. I just wanted the worst over with. Now, Tiny is very very excited about everything. I asked her to go with me, just to see what her tastes were, spend some time, and I figure her enthusiasm and mothering will ease my pain during what should be an exciting and fun time for me. It worked. We had the best time. We laughed and joked. We found THE DRESS.<br />
<br />
I had envisioned a tea length, off the shoulder, long sleeved number. Picture 1950's, satin cream colored class. I wanted my hair down with a wide net offset eyebrow blusher. I wanted a whole retro cool vibe, with an elegant modern twist to it. That is NOT the dress I walked out the store with. And it is NOT the style I ended up with. I can't believe I walked out of the store with a dress anyways, let alone the princess fluff thing that I fell in love with in the dress shop. I was only going to look around and get ideas. Not to actually BUY a dress. I would have never have picked out the dress I got. Sequins. It has fucking sequins! And seed pearls!! It's a ball gown. I look like a fucking Disney princess in it. I am shaking my head at myself. It is the exact opposite of what I would have normally thought I would have picked. But even thinking about that fluffy white skirt spinning out around me as I spun in the mirrored viewing room (yeah, I did that. Don't judge.) I smile. It is perfect. It makes me feel like a bride, not a girl trying on dresses. And the modern retro dress made me feel like a girl in a dress.<br />
<br />
It fit perfect. When I came out of the dressing room, Tiny's eyes welled up. It.was.on.sale. I called Scratchy at work to tell him that I'd found it. Not for anything other than a hope that he would say "keep an eye on it, if it gets down low enough, we might get it." My appointment was over. The consultant said she would put it on my wishlist. Tiny and I head back to my house. She kept telling me how perfect the dress was, and how beautiful it was. She told me that she was glad he'd found me. How she loves me. How she knows I will take care of her baby. Now, I don't know if you realize this, but having a mother tell you that she's happy her baby loves you, THAT is some big shit! Not to mention, Scratchy is an only child! I know how much it took for her to say that, and how bittersweet it has to be for her. Some day, I hope I will love the girl wearing Buh's ring enough to tell her that I am glad she's here. Anylaid, we were sitting here just bullshitting when he came home from work, picked me and Tiny up, and took us back to the store. Bought me my dress. Paid in full, and it is now hanging in my bedroom closet. He hasn't seen it. They bagged, then garment bagged the first hanging bag. He promised to stay out of it.<br />
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After we left the bridal shop, we had an appointment to look at a townhouse on the other side of the township we live in. We took Tiny with us, because it's between here and her house. We find the place fairly easy. And we wait for the realtor. We take our time, checking the place out. 2 bdrm, 1 1/2 bath, basement, dishwasher, gated patio, all affordable, all with more room than we have here. Buh can take the back half of the basement, leaving the front to laundry and freezer space. That leaves the second bedroom on the second floor empty. The master is a little on the small side, so I think we're going to put the dressers in there, and use it as a dressing room/ walk in closet. Before we left, he paid the deposit and set up an approximate date to sign the lease at the end of March. She said we get a week free at the end of the month to start moving things in slowly, and give us time to clean both places. We came home, told Buh about it. I cooked dinner wearing my new adorable apron. I made Italian Breaded chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy and corn. <br />
<br />
I'm excited. There's progress being made, and progress means we are moving forward with our lives. Nothing scares me more than stagnation. Progress means a future, bright and shining with all the hope only the future can give you. For so very long I have been afraid of the future. It seemed redundant, and sometimes lonely. It was stagnant. I was stuck. And now, with the love of someone shy and quiet, I look forward to sitting on a back porch, watching the Summer light fade, with my head on his shoulder. I'm excited to complain about my tiny kitchen and hear how I knew how small it was before we moved and how I said it was a fair trade for everything else off my list I was getting. I can't wait to invite Nan and her mom over for card night, while Buh and Gentle Giant play Xbox.<br />
<br />
I am happy.<br />
<br />
*Sigh*Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-53428074257816974252013-02-19T02:41:00.001-05:002013-02-19T02:41:04.517-05:00"Are you fucking serious??"The past year has steadily amazed and intrigued me. Last year, at this time, I was avoiding any kind of pseudo serious relationship by hanging on to a crush that I was aware would never be compatible, even if it were to come together in fumbling attempts at intimacy. (this is in no way a slam against his sexual aptitude, just that there must be something more than physical attraction and a skewed sense of humor to have some semblance of a relationship.) I wasn't truly aware of my complete and total self sabotage until I brazenly laid my confusion out for examination. This was only because I was pushed by a <i>"religious experience</i>" to do so. After receiving a polite refusal of my affection, my heart jumped and I laughed! Then I realized... I shouldn't be this happy at being shot down. But I was. The friendship suffered a bit, and life has taken off for both of us, but he is still my friend, and we just pretend it never happened. I love him extra for that. The only thing that makes sense to me, as to why I was so happy, was that I knew it was wrong. I just wanted something I knew wasn't going to work. If you go in with it going to fall apart, it's not such a shock when it does.<br />
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I have moved twice since last year, trying desperately to make each place home, when it could never be. There was nothing wrong with those homes, not entirely. Sissy B's was warm and loving and amazing... but it was her home, not mine. My dad's house was beautiful, spacious and inviting.... but chaos and back biting kept it from being what I needed. Then in with one of my best guy friends... Beta. (Who will, from here on out be known as Scratchy. Because I prefer it, I don't demand it.)<br />
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Scratchy didn't care that within one weekend of being here I had rearranged every cupboard in the kitchen, and was writing up a list of things that this apartment needed. (How to single guys live off of such meager stuff?? I don't get it. Why wouldn't you have a mandolin to julienne your cabbage for slaw instead of cutting it by hand?) He just went to the store and got what I needed. It was a bit bumpy in the beginning, as I was the first woman he'd lived with aside from his amazing mom (who's name will be Tiny), so we needed to find a comfortable routine that was compromise as much as it was eye rolling and muttered curses. I will give him a boat load of credit. I am not an easy woman to please, and when I would get pissed at something he said or did, he would try his best to rectify and understand the situation. I do my best not to give him a reason to get mad at me, but when I have, he treats me like a grown up and talks to me about it. Almost all the time I understand his points, apologize and explain my actions, and I do what I can to not let it happen again.<br />
<br />
Scratchy has always been a quiet, kind of backwards guy. I've known for quite some time that he's been interested in me, at least sexually, It's hard to spend most of your time with a girl who obsesses about sex as much as a teen aged boy, speaks candidly and openly about personal fetishes and fantasies, and not really want to know if she is as much of a freak as she seems. But he never really made any move to see if he could make it happen. I'd dropped some major hints, but typical to the gender, he missed them. It seemed to take forever but finally it happened.<br />
<br />
Friday nights, we stay in, watch tv and hang out together. Occasionally on a Saturday we will go out with a few of his friends to a sports bar. We live a subdued, and boring social life. The most exciting thing I have going on in my life is when I get him to try a new recipe (I am a pintrest junkie... I admit it. I should go to meetings.) And in the midst of all this mundane life, in the throes of this quiet contentment, it hit me. I.am.in.a.relationship. A real one. Not a pseudo relationship where we only see each other on dates. We see each other in real life. We don't even go out to dinner once a week. (Sometimes we do, but it's not uncommon for me to cook every night.) On the heels of that revelation, another more staggering knocked the wind out of me.<br />
<br />
I was in love with him.<br />
<br />
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!<br />
<br />
How the hell did this happen?!?!? No! This isn't right! What if he doesn't love me? Worse yet, what if he does?? Shit! Shit shit shit shit. This is going to hurt so bad. This isn't going to be good at all. Someone is going to hurt, and it's going to make me hurt, and I am so tired of hurting. Maybe I am wrong... maybe I am not in love. Maybe I am just being silly. That's it... I am confused again. But the thought of him politely rejecting me, of him turning his back on the only thing of value I have, made me desolate. So I went at it like a boy. I'd treated it all very offhandedly. He must have seen through it. Damn his keen eye. He informed me that he was aware of the situation between us, but he wouldn't discuss it because he didn't want to freak me out worse. He let me come to the idea as slow as I needed.<br />
<br />
I won't say it's been easy. I've had second thoughts and moments of paralyzing fear. He knows, and he's never pushed... never gotten bent about my sometimes incapacitating past. Patient and caring, trying his damnedest to fix every hurt ever inflicted. Fuck if that didn't make me fall harder faster. All he ever wants is to see me smile, and would juggle flashing dildos to make it happen. It is an adjustment, being with someone who is happy just sitting next to me on the couch with his hand on my thigh.<br />
<br />
Christmas was an interesting compromise of old traditions and new ones made. New Years was a quiet affair with Nan and Gentle Giant, Buh and Lil Bit. Super Bowl Sunday was spent at Ass's with him, Lois (Ass's girlfriend), and a few other friends. I consider holiday season over. But Scratchy, despite himself, is a traditional romantic at heart. On Valentine's Day, after dinner he took me out and bought me a chest freezer. Yeah, I got a card, a big box of my favorite chocolates, and a rose, but I.GOT.A.MAJOR.APPLIANCE. A major appliance that I had lusted after for years. My attached female friends spent the day posting about the flowers, candy, and jewelry they had got. And I was smirking to myself at how I got the better deal. And then he made plans to whisk me away for an night in a beautiful jacuzzi suite. The package was dinner (at my favorite steakhouse of all time), and a movie, included in the price of the room for a very awesome price. Check in Saturday at 3.<br />
<br />
Saturday morning, I drag myself out of bed earlier than normal so I can freeze the family packs of pork chops, pork roasts, chicken breasts and ground beef that he had brought home the night before.Scratchy claimed he had to go finish buying my presents. <i>'Oh and by the way, what are your favorite candle scents?'</i> I tell him my top two. I smile at him he kisses me and leaves. I get everything I need to get done, done. He sends me a picture of two candles, and tells me he'll be home shortly. I start packing an over night bag. I pack all the necessary accoutrements one must take on a romantic getaway, I pack toiletries and clothing. We were going to get ready for dinner at the hotel, so I had to take all my makeup and hair stuff. Scratchy came home, and was trying to get his stuff rounded up. He made the remark that he was sweating like a pig. I laughed, and told him there was no reason to be nervous, it's not like we'd never had sex before. He chuckled, and threw the last of his stuff in the bags.<br />
<br />
We get to the hotel and marvel at how nice it is, how big the tub is, blah blah. He rushes me into the shower with the demand that I make sure it's safe when I am ready to come out. I begrudgingly complied. Showered, and dressed, I stood asking if I could come out until permission was given. When I came out of the bathroom, the rest of the suite had been lit softly with a handful of fragrant candles, grouped mostly around the tub. There were white fabric rose petals sprinkled all across the king sized bed, and on the floor surrounding the bed. It was the cutest thing. I'd never had anyone do anything that traditionally romantic just for me. I couldn't do anything but grin. I kissed him, and after being prodded, went and finished my makeup and hair so we could go to dinner.<br />
<br />
The restaurant has a wait of an hour and a half. It's worth it, we waited. His best friend, Mr. Who, texted him during dinner. Just to give him a hard time, I point out that I wasn't allowed to text anyone, but he was texting. He laughed and said <i>'Maybe if you're good, I'll let you text later.'</i> We laughed.<br />
<br />
After dinner we went back to the room, and decided we were going to play a few hands of cards. (I insisted. I needed time for a wardrobe change, if you know what I mean.) I change into a pair of black yoga shorts and a tshirt... and black thigh high socks that were detailed up the back with a silver zipper design, and a hot pink Playboy Bunny above the knee. He smiled like the devil himself when he saw the socks. I told him he wasn't allowed to touch me while we were playing cards. And let me tell you, I had to scold him for breaking the rule a few times, but nothing too serious. Again, his phone chirped, Mr. Who had said something funny enough to make Scratchy laugh out loud. He sent a reply and picked his cards back up. I make another comment about him texting and me not, because I knew Mr Who wouldn't have bugged us without a reason, so I can safely rib Scratchy about it. He told me that I would soon enough know what was going on, and just to be patient. I think we were five hands in when I became disenchanted with the game. I got up to go to the bathroom, and told him I was ready to quit, insinuating heavily that I was ready for the jacuzzi. <br />
<br />
He told me to stay in the bathroom until he said I could come back out. Figuring he was relighting the candles, to make the transition into that beautiful tub even more seamless, I stood in the bathroom until allowed to return to the main room. And as I suspected, all the candles had been relit and he was standing in the middle of the room. I smiled as I walked by and figured, why not get dirty before we take our bath, and started to crawl up on the bed. But he stopped me. Told me to stand next to the bed and close my eyes. I had one more surprise.<br />
<br />
"Keep your eyes closed, do you have your eyes closed?"<br />
<br />
"Yes." <i>What the hell is he doing? He's walking away. Where the hell is he going?</i><br />
<br />
And then he did it. My whole world slid out of tilt when I opened my eyes. I didn't even see the glinting rock in the red box that he had lifted up to me. I only registered that he was lower than me, HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HE'S ON ONE KNEE!! I lost the filter on my mouth the moment I realized he was on one knee. I was in shock, I couldn't help it, I incredulously asked...<br />
<i> </i><br />
"Are you fucking serious??" No malice, just utter confusion, and disbelief.<br />
<br />
Honestly, I couldn't tell you what he said after he smiled and said yes. I don't know if he asked me to be his wife, or if he asked me to marry him. I don't know if he went on to tell me he loved me, or if he said my name when he asked me. I was too busy trying to memorize every major detail about this moment. The way he smiled when he spoke, how gently he held my hand, how my heart was beating so loud and so fast. I don't even know if I breathed. I know I nodded, or said yes. It seems to me, I screamed it, but in reality I probably choked it out. Arms wrapped and kisses deep and shuddering. <i>Wait, wait... look at the ring, do you like it? </i>I didn't care what the ring looked like, he bought it because he wants to be with me forever. He bought me a ring. I just wanted to kiss him again. <br />
<br />
He made me stop. I think he needed to know that I liked the ring. We'd never discussed anything about styles, or metals, or even sizes. He walked into it blind. I flicked on the light and sat down on the edge of the bed. He proudly informed me that it was a three quarter ct, that the band was white gold, and the cut was called a brilliant cut. He said <i>I told him that you were a simpler kind of person, nothing flashy, nothing too bling bling. I thought this one was good because it was just a solitaire, just basic, but beautiful. </i>He went on to tell me that it probably wouldn't fit, we'd have to get it sized. They had shown him the biggest sized rings they had on the floor, in his price range. As I pulled the ring out of the box, I asked what size it was. <i>Seven?</i> Must be, because it fits.<br />
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It was too late to tell most people, although, Mr Who had stated he was not going to bed until he got an answer as to what I'd said, got a text almost immediately. I sent out a few texts, telling those I am closest to. I even texted my dad, whom I haven't spoken to since moving out of the house. At 7:30 Sunday morning, Scratchy called Tiny and asked her if she would be home for awhile, that we were going to stop by. By 9 am we were sitting in his mom's living room. She took the news with hoots and hugs. And some gentle pressure to provide her with a grandchild. Which isn't any different than any other time I talk to her. We just laugh her off. From there we went to Scratchy's dad's and told him. He congratulated us and asked about babies. We laughed it off.<br />
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I am still in a state of shock. Every time the light catches the stone I am in awe of how much my life has changed in this past year. How I have gone from being lost, to having a home. We haven't set a date, we aren't going to rush things too much. I don't think it's become real enough for me to think about setting a date.<br />
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I wanted to tell you all, I wanted you to be happy with me. I hope everything is going as good for you, as it is for me. Now, I have to fill up my ice water and make sure thee is enough sweet tea for Scratchy to have something to drink when he wakes up... Even tho he should be drinking his pineapple juice first thing so it's done for the day....<br />
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*BSWK*<br />
The SlutUnknownnoreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-85854644425763834762012-10-24T01:16:00.002-04:002012-10-24T01:16:39.177-04:00My New Love.Since moving in with Beta... there's been a renewing of passion in my life. Food. I am remiss to admit to you all that I have gain an exorbitant amount of weight. So I've cut my sweet teas down, and have started drinking more water. I've lost a bit, and am working on the rest of it.<br />
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But this is how in love with food I am, this whole blog is going to be about food... Food I love to cook to be more precise. At this moment, I have green beans, bacon and ham simmering in the crockpot. I'll add the potatoes in the morning, so they cook down, but don't turn to mush. I've made a bolognese ragu with fresh fettuccine... From scratch. The tomato sauce was made from fresh tomatoes. I was quite proud of that. It was smashing too. Beta's mom and her fiancee stopped by, and I fed them too. Rave reviews.<br />
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I place a lot of my self worth on the food I feed to people I care about. My mother was an amazing cook, my sister, and Nan are great cooks. It's how we show our love... You feed those you love, you make sure their bellies are full, and they're comfortable and smiling. I take it as a personal slight if I cook and someone won't try it. Not everyone likes the style of cooking I pride myself on, and I am realist enough to know that I won't please every single person, but at least give it a chance. <br />
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So, what's your favorite foods? What are your favorite recipes? Am I weird for feeling this way?<br />
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*BSWK*Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-9517230317998282142012-10-18T02:41:00.001-04:002012-10-18T02:41:54.925-04:00Oh Em Gee!! She's still alive!!Earlier today I was on the phone with our beloved <a href="http://www.facebook.com/SarcasticMama?ref=ts&fref=ts" target="_blank">Sarcastic Mama</a> and the topic of our blogs came up. She googled me, and informed me that I had not blogged since July 3. That's crazy talk!! But she was right. I have horribly neglected you all. I just have so much on my plate right now. Where do I start?? How about back when I stopped blogging and posting on my page so much....<br />
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We all know that I was living in the house that my father owned. I was living there with Buh and my step sister Lil D and her boyfriend, and her two children. I don't want to slam anyone... but it wasn't a healthy environment. D has emotional issues and problems with addictions and the law, as did her boyfriend. They pretty much did nothing but smoke K2 and run the roads (yeah, she was still pregnant... She didn't care, so why should anyone else?) I stayed home, and cleaned the house... All.the.damn.time. I had friends (Beta, Ass, Nan... to name a few) telling me to stop doing everything and make them help. Turns out, they were telling my dad that Buh and I were trashing the house and making them clean it. She also told my dad that since I 'constantly had company over' she was relegated to sitting in her bedroom because she was uncomfortable. Truth of the matter was... Beta was there about four nights out of seven. He would message me while he was at work and ask me if I would mind cooking dinner. I absolutely love to cook. Seriously. I adore it. So I would always tell him "Sure. Bring what you want for dinner, and I will cook it." This worked out beautifully for both parties, he got a home cooked meal after working 12-14 hour days, and Buh and I got fed. See, D would go grocery shopping and keep the food in her bedroom. I know that Beta did it more so that he knew Buh and I were getting fed, and I couldn't have been more grateful for it. Some nights he would just take us out to dinner to get us away from the drama. Another friend of mine started sending me grocery money, and money to help with my other living expenses, like a cell phone. The Butch has come through for me so many times I can't count, and I can't say where I would have been without her as a safety net. <br />
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Anylaid.... About the beginning of March, D started making noises that her uncle was moving into the house, and I was going to have to move out. My father hadn't said anything about it, so I let her talk because I never believed a thing that came out of her mouth. Then he shut the cable off in the beginning of May. This fucked me. I had no phone, no internet, nothing. I could care less about the TV, but the ability to have contact with the outside world --- Just cut --- Just like that. Nothing. I did what I could, and I could have gotten the bill paid, but my dad wouldn't let me. Two weeks later he called me and told me that his wife's brother was buying the house. (This was after I told him I was able to carry the bills and house payment, if he got D and her family out of the house.) I was screwed. I kept a calm head, I continued telling everyone I would figure it out, I would land on my feet, stop stressing... knowing the whole time I was screaming and crying inside. Buh talked to his grandfather one night for a few hours, and in that time... my father informed my son that we were going to be homeless and it was all my fault. "Had your mother gotten a job, I could have let you guys stay in the house." Never let us mind that Buh's dad had proposed a deal with me, him and his two youngest boys would move in, he would pay the bills, and I would take care of the kids and house, and provide the groceries for me and Buh. Sounded solid to me. He would get the master bedroom, I would get the second largest bedroom, and the boys would be in the extra rooms in the basement. That wasn't good enough for him... *I* was to be paying all the bills. So my father vetoed the idea. It was all my fault that we were going to be homeless.<br />
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My Buh cried that night. He was angry, he was finally doing well in a school system, he had made friends, he was to be on the football team his freshman year. We had been in a relatively country-esque setting where he could run a little more wild, be a little louder, throw the ball a little further. We had a beautiful three bedroom house with a pool and over an acre of land. It was all being taken away because my father didn't like how the bills would have been paid. Now, had Seymore (Buh's dad) and I decided we were going to get back together, and I was playing stay at home mom for my man and my step kids.... he probably would have been okay with it. But because it was a platonic situation, he decided I needed to stand on my own two feet. He didn't want to look at the fact that I would basically be a live-in nanny, which is a legitimate job. <br />
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After informed that my company made them feel uncomfortable, the nights Beta came down, we'd eat and then sit in my bedroom, and play words with friends. (Totally addicting game.) I had days before I had to be out of my dad's house, and not a single clue as to what I was going to do. That house had been my last resort. I didn't want to ask my dad for help in the first place, but I was left with no other option... after that option had expired, I had no clue where I was going to go. So this is what happened... Beta was sitting on the end of my bed, playing poker while waiting for me to play my next word, and he said "What's your plan? Where are you going? You don't have any more time." And immediately my anxiety rose. I told him my patent answer. "I'll figure it out. I'll be okay." And he looked at me and said... "I have an extra bedroom. Buh can sleep in it after I get it cleaned out." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He was offering me an out, a back up plan. I jumped at it, after clarifying that he knew what he was getting into. He was a confirmed bachelor, had never lived with a woman other than his mom. And he was offering to let an Alpha female take over his house... no wait... an OMEGA female. That night I started packing my belongings, and the next night, we took a load over to his apartment. I just started staying there whenever Buh didn't have school, or was with Seymore or Douche Bag. I had clothes and toiletries at Beta's and would go to the house only when I had to. Most of my things were still at the house.<br />
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I went back to the house and realized that one of the curtains from my bedroom had gone missing... along with a movie that had belonged to my mom and was given to me when she died, along with other things. I texted my dad and told him basically that if my belongings mysteriously returned to their rightful place, I'd let it go, no harm no foul. Got a load of things that I needed, and went back to Beta's. Four days later, I went back to the house to get the rest of my things, Beta had gotten a box truck from work and we were pretty sure we could get the rest of it in one fell swoop.<br />
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I walked into the house, and went into my bedroom. The first thing I noticed was the gaping whole in my bed. Then the absence of my costume jewelry and perfumes, and by God there was a bag of garbage thrown all over my clean clothes that had been folded and stacked on the floor. There were boxes of my things dumped, and items broken. Now, I am not typically a violent person when I am angry. I am not what you could call a "hitter." I tend to sit back and plot. Hurt me and I will destroy your life, not your body. But as I stormed back up the hallway, into the house, I punched the wall. I'm not proud of it. I just want to relate to you how incredibly acerbated I was. I texted my father. I told him what I had found after being gone. He told me that there was no reason for them to act like that, so he didn't know what to tell me... but he laid heavily on the insinuation that I had done this all myself. He said he had asked them about my missing items, and they denied knowledge, so I must have misplaced them. Now while he is basically telling me that she's a perfect angel and I am the devil incarnate, I am digging through the pile of curtains on the couch. I find my curtain. I tell him that for them not knowing where my things were, I was finding them in their shit. And that I didn't understand why he would believe I would take a box cutter to my mattress, and destroy my things just to get her in trouble. I'm a grown ass woman. Not a twenty something teeny bopper with a drug problem! I told him that if he chose to believe her that was fine, he could make his own decisions. But I wouldn't be treated like that anymore. That I was sorry he could believe such bad things about me, obviously I shouldn't be in his life if I was that bad of a person.<br />
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His last text to me was "Do whatever you want... don't respond to this text." I told him I was walking out of his life, and he told me don't respond. I didn't.<br />
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I moved in with Beta. Over the summer we tried like hell to move back down into the area that my father's house was in. It just wasn't happening. Buh started school in this school district, and is having the same problems he had in the district he was in when he lived with Nan. I cook, I clean, I play 1950's housewife. Beta gets together with his friends on Sundays to watch football, he takes Buh, sometimes I send goodies with them. He does what he can to make sure Buh and I are taken care of, and in return I do what I can to take care of him. We're talking about moving in the spring, to a bigger apartment or a house. He really wants a house. I'm cool with that. He won't let me hang pictures, or even curtains here. A house would be nice to decorate. <br />
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I have to give him props... for never living with a woman before, he's done quite well with adjusting. If I have a problem, I just lay it out for him. He listens, and he does what he can to take my feelings into consideration the next time a similar situation comes up. I have an amazing best friend.<br />
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So when his mom got sick, I had no issues with taking her to the doctor. Her and I get along famously anyways. We laugh, we joke, we confide in each other. I was on my way to the bank a few days later when he called me and asked me to pick her up from the Dr's office and drive her to the hospital. Her COPD was flared because of a cold. She couldn't breathe. I was on my way to her. I got her to the hospital and sat with her all day. I felt horrible because she was so sick and it wasn't getting better, there was nothing I could do to help her. I hate having my hands tied in a situation like that. After she'd gotten a breathing treatment, and eaten part of her dinner, I finally headed home. I knew I was going back the next day. The first four days she was in the hospital, I went to see her. On the fifth day, I couldn't go. I had caught a cold, and couldn't risk reinfecting her. So I have been suffering from this horrendous head cold that makes me make the most pitiful noises, and been unable to go see how she is faring. Beta said she's doing the same, and that's not exactly good. Last night I made barbeque chicken, au gratin potatoes and green beans, and he took a plate to her so we know she's eating.<br />
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There's more... but it's almost 3 am here, and I am a sleepy slut. So I will try to blog the rest soon. I'm not posting this on my page, because D follows me... and I just don't want the drama. I'm over it. I'm above it. I'm better than it. So if you know your friends follow me, but aren't subscribed to the blog, make sure you share me.<br />
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I miss you all something terrible.<br />
~*~BSWK~*~<br />
The Slut Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-21252763481568144712012-07-03T01:23:00.001-04:002012-07-03T01:23:20.502-04:00Uhm, so yeah...There's a lot going on right now, and I don't know how or even if I can express most of it in words. I'm no longer on speaking terms with my father, or my best friend Nan. It hurts that I have lost two important people in my life, but I am never going to beg for attention again. If I am not good enough for you, then I guess you can keep moving and I will find others that love me and see me as someone special. I am tired of being made feel like I am irrevocably flawed, that I am so blemished that I must be hidden or that it's okay to slander me, or distrust me because someone said whatever they deem truth. <br /><br />Oh and heads up, this blog might not make much sense, as it's going to be coming from a mildly congested and confused mind through exhausted and pain riddled hands. I apologize in advance.<br /><br /><br /><div>
Great things going on in my life.... <br /><br />#1.) Buh has been promoted to the next grade, and was actively pursued by the football coach. He's everything I wasn't in high school. Good looking, funny, smart, athletic, he's a popular boy with the personality of a regular guy. He's that popular boy that doesn't think he's popular, so he'll be friends with everyone. He's happy. He's healthy. Him and Lil Bit broke up for all of three days, and got back together. He's a normal, headstrong, awesome teenager. <br /><br />#2.) I have realized that I have some fucktabulust friends. Yes, they are everywhere. No, I haven't met all of them face to face. But seriously... fucking amazing people in my life. I have close, maybe even considered best friends, from Manhattan to Iowa, and more. One of them is struggling with the health of someone amazing to them... so everyone send some love to OK for my best Butch's wifey. I have Beta, who is ALWAYS there for me when I need him... I have so many great people, and it does make it a little easier to make it through the loss of the few I have lost.<br /><br />#3.) Sit<3 has FINALLY listened to me and given a specific guy a chance. He's a guy I dated for a month or so last Summer. I knew things weren't going to work with me and him as anything more than fuck buddies, and I seen the potential between them two. I've been telling her for forever to put it to him, but she wouldn't. Now, she's been talking/texting/hanging out with him and I got the giggly girl phone call about how sweet he is, and how she LOVES the no pressure attitude he has, but still makes it perfectly known he's more than interested. He takes her out on real dates, and doesn't expect her to pay for it all. He is content to sit on a blanket in her front yard with her bff in the middle of the night to bs and chill. He's good with her kids. He has ambition and he's close to his parents. She's more of what he's looking for, and he's totally diggin her. I am happy for her and I am more than willing to soothe her fears of being hurt again, and her freaking out over liking him. I know relationships are scary fucking things when you're steadfast in the "I AM STAYING SINGLE!!!!" mindset.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Good things in my life.....<br /><br />#1.) I got to go to the first family reunion I've been to in quite a few years. I got to rent a 2012 royal blue ford mustang and drove the 5 hours to my favorite Aunt's farm. I got to surprise my freshly graduated cousin (who claims I am her favorite cousin.) I can not describe the feeling of amazingfaceness you get when you have to throw the things in your hands at the person standing next to you while saying "hold this, hold this, she's coming" because someone is running full speed at you, screaming your birth name with their arms spread. Or how fantastic it is to see your two older cousins that you didn't even know were going to be there. <br /><br />#2.) I have complete command of a kitchen. My 1950's housewife is showing... and I am happiest when I can control a kitchen. <br /><br />#3.) I get to see Ass more now. He makes me laugh. And even tho his life is a bit chaotic right now, (what with planning a family vacation to the ocean and all... ) he seems happy. Tired, a bit cranky, busy as all get out, but happy. (I think it might be the girl... but it could be he sees the light at the end of his tunnel.) Either way, I couldn't be happier for him. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Not so amazing things....<br /><br />#1.) I am scared and confused <br /><br /><br /><br /><br />#2.) I never have time for my page.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />#3.) Can we not dwell on the negative? <br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I miss you guys.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />*BSWK*</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-87025061367032528012012-05-01T19:44:00.000-04:002012-05-01T19:44:28.989-04:00BIG DEEP BREATH.....I think it is the best way to get over someone,however for me if I hook up with someone new,I usually get addicted to her,I fall in love too easy,get hooked on the love and I'm right back where I was to begin with.I have come to realize that I hate to be alone,to be mateless makes me feel worthless.I dont do well alone,case in point.....I left my wife after being caught in a compromising position with another woman,the other woman called it off immediately after we got caught,saying she could not deal with being called a home wrecker,so I moved out and got a motel room,my wife begged me to come back,while the other woman would not return my calls message me or anything zero contact while at the motel,GGRRRR!If the other woman had at least contacted me I wouldn't have even considered going back,but without a mate I fell right back into the very trap I was escaping from.I dont know how to be alone.....My wife was the other woman in the beginning of our relationship and when my first wife found out about her she brought my belongings over to her house and dumped them in the road in front of her house,she stuck by me through thick and thin and even after catching me with another woman she wanted me back,but my problem is,I am still in love with the other woman but she hardly ever contacts me she claims that she still cares about me,but she is afraid of being called a homewrecker,which is frustrating for me because I need a woman who will stick by me through thick and thin,she obviously isnt gonna be there for me and if I leave I will be on my own,but my question is this: Is this other woman eventually going to be with me after all this or is she just blowing me off?I am very confused because usually in these situations the other woman is there for me,at least on a limited time basis,I have never met a woman who claimed she loved me yet wouldnt be there until I'm free and clear,any advice? <br /><br />~Unsigned<br /><br /><br /><div>
Unsigned,<br /><br />When I first read your message, I immediately responded with... "You may not want my advice honey... It's not going to be what you wanna hear." But the more I have sat here and thought about it, the more I needed to speak on it. I hope I don't lose you as a follower, but I have to get this off my chest.<br /><br />I care about each one of my fans. I know I am very absentminded and sometimes I neglect the page, but I do wish nothing but the absolute best for you guys. This includes a happy healthy sex life and honest relationships. You aren't being either. It's not healthy and it's not honest. If you can't be a whole person by yourself, and be okay with who you are enough to not *need* the consistency of what a relationship gives you, there is something wrong.<br /><br />No one should need someone else to make them whole. The girls I know, myself included, want someone who is going to compliment them, not complete them. I am already whole. I don't need completed. I want someone who is going to make me shine in the best light, not that I need just to shine.<br /><br />In my most honest and humblest opinions, stop being with either of them. You need to get YOU to a point where you are happy being you, not just you in a relationship. Relationship jumpers, in my experience, live their lives to be who they think their partner wants them to be and they lose themselves in the relationship. When the relationship loses it's shine, they are looking for the next best thing. It's not healthy for anyone involved, and could all be avoided if the jumper was happy and content with themselves enough to be honest. This is the reason there are so many bitter bitches out there. Because they give their all to someone like that and he's cheating... and he never once said anything about being that unhappy. It's enough to make someone hate someone else.<br /><br />Stop being like this, stop being a douchebag. Because THAT is a douchebag move. If you'd man up and talk to these women before things got bad enough for you to *THINK* about stepping out, you wouldn't be stepping out. Your girl would either work it through with you, or bounce. You can't want to be in the relationship anymore if you are even considering being with someone else. So you should be single for a while. Work through whatever issues you have with you, and then be happy being you for a little while before being with someone else.<br /><br />So... file divorce papers, and let the 'homewrecker' live her life too... You concentrate on being you. No one should define themselves through a relationship. You should define yourself with the things that spell out YOU.<br /><br />Sorry if I come across too harsh, but right now, you are giving guys a bad name. You are being a douchebag. STOP.IT.NOW.<br /><br />*BSWK*<br /><br />~The Slut</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-8233960557395103512012-04-26T00:01:00.000-04:002012-04-26T00:01:32.210-04:00My Pithy Advice for a Girl Lost<br /><br />I am a fan of your FB page and I enjoy it! I need advice about something. Yes, it is about a guy.<br /><br />I have involved myself with a married guy (I can hear your sigh already). He and I have been going round for 8 months now. We are at the point were I have fallen for him a little. He says his marriage is all but over but staying for his kids blah blah blah. He does admit that the reason why his marriage fell apart is because of his choices. He and I have not slept together but we have kissed a couple times.<br /><br />Some time ago, I got tired of the back and forth and the bullshit so I asked him to either choose me or not. I just don't want to live in this limbo anymore. As expected, he didn't choose me. I knew this would happen but it doesn't make it hurt any less. So, I sucked it up and I realize I need to move on (even though I don't want too).<br /><br />I am talking to this nice guy who is great. We are friends. We have slept together a few times but I feel bad about it. I am emotionally unavailable because of the married guy. (The New guy is emotionally unavailable also but for different reasons) The reason why I am emotionally unavailable is because the married guy won't leave me alone. At this point, I think he tells me shit just so I feel bad about dating. You know that saying "he doesn't want me but doesn't want anyone to have me either"?? I think that applies here. <br /><br />I need some advice on what to do. Oh, the married guy and I were great friends before feelings started and we work together.<br /><br />Help put me out of my misery lol.. thanks!<br /><br />- lost in uncertainty.<br /><br /><br /><br />Lost,<div>
<br />Yes, I sighed. A deep and heavy laden sigh, that made my shoulders rise and fall. I also shook my head in the way you would expect any mother to do. A married man??? Really?? How did this happen?? It's so cliché that it makes me want to throw rocks at you like you were a boy. </div>
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First thing first... You need to get Married Guy out of your life... STAT. Do whatever you have to do, I suggest changing your phone number, email, blocking him on Facebook, and telling him to go home to his wife until he's got divorce papers the ink is drying on. If he doesn't respect that... it shows how much you really mean to him. If he continues to try to fuck with you, I would suggest (and this is coming from a previously scorned wife who has a habit of being a little vindictive) threatening to tell his wife about his extra-curricular activities. I mean, if he doesn't give a shit about you, and your feelings, why care if it destroys his life?? It's not like she doesn't have the right to know... Wouldn't you want to know if you were the wife?? </div>
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If Married Guy is making you feel bad about dating, and moving on, it shows what a SUPREME DOUCHEBAG he is. Do you really want to continue involvement with someone who obviously doesn't want to see you happy, even tho he doesn't want to be the one to make you happy?? Look at the situation for what it is, and getting over him may come a lot easier. He's a manipulator, and a cheater. Which means... He has no respect for any one. He doesn't understand loyalty or trust in a way that's applicable to him. No one wants that in a partner. Even fuck buddies have a level of loyalty and trust. You are not going to change him... He is who he is. Common mistake for women, we think we can change them... we can't. SOMETIMES we can modify their behavior but never can we change who they are. </div>
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Secondly... This thing with New Guy... why feel bad about having fun? If it's understood that it's not going to go beyond what it is now, for whatever reasons, why sweat it? Just make sure you keep being honest with each other, and agree that if things change, and you start to feel more or less than you do now, that you will discuss it like grown ups. So.many.people. forget that they are grown ups. That's when the problems start. </div>
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As long as you are attracted to New Guy, and he's NOT ALREADY IN A RELATIONSHIP, there's not one thing wrong with you dating him. Have fun, rock it out loud. And if you still feel guilty.. Which I don't see how you could now that I have told you what a loser Married Guy is, then take some time off dating. There's nothing wrong with taking a mourning period after something doesn't work the way you wanted it to. </div>
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I hope I helped... this is what I would tell any one of my real life friends, sans the slap on the back of the head.</div>
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*BSWK*</div>
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The Slut</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-59211666083836471102012-04-25T03:22:00.000-04:002012-04-25T03:22:46.806-04:00Who's who??So now that I am above 30,000 fans on my <a href="http://www.facebook.com/SitStillSillySlut" target="_blank">Facebook page</a>... Which I thought was impossible. Really. I had no clue that this many people would give two shits about the ramblings of a divorced, young-ish, mother of a teenager, who has the sex drive of another teenager. lol. I do have a motley bunch who make up the cast of my life... and you should all know who is who so it's easy to follow along.<br />
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First and foremost... I have a 15 year old son, he's blonde blue eyed, 6 foot and cut. If I would have known my child would be so good looking, I would have waited. Because the chile is going to make me a grandmother way before I am ready. I call him Buh on the page, and in real life. The full nickname, I am no longer allowed to call him that. It's Bubba Doo Mommy Loves You. Yes, I called him that his whole toddler life. So Buh, sounds like duh, only with a b instead.<br />
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Next we'll cover my housemates. My step sister Lil D is about 2 1/2 months pregnant. Her boyfriend, T is fresh out as of Jan. Both are in their very very early 20s. Lil D has two kids... B, my nephew, who is 8 and my niece Kay, who is 4.<br />
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Now my friends...<br />
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Nan... My best best friend since I was 14. We claim that we have been friends for 976 years. Out of all of my friends, Nan is the one that is the most like me. I wouldn't have survived skipping all of high school if it wouldn't have been for her hanging out with me all the time. :) Nan's 15 year old son, Gentle Giant, is Buh's best friend.<br />
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<a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Sissy-B/310089035677832" target="_blank">Sissy B</a> I lived with her for almost a year. Her and Midget (her husband) and their hoard of children were a soothing balm on my aching soul. She is one of my best friends.<br />
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Jennybae... My oldest friend. In 6th grade she was the new girl, and I told her that she could look at me like the welcome wagon, cause I wanted to be her friend. And now, she lives 3 minutes up the road from me. <3<br />
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beta is the only friend I have that makes the effort to come see me regularly. (Aside from Jennybae) I am pretty sure beta comes down so much because I cook for him when he comes. And all he has to do is say... "You wanna cook?" and I say "Whatchu want?" He brings it, I cook it and we have a blast. He's quiet and a little backwards, but a nice guy. He's a shirt-off-his-back kind of guy.<br />
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Sit<3 is my Slut in Training. She's also one of my best friends. Her son, Potato is one of Buh's closest friends.<br />
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Stupid is Buh's dad. No, we were never married. No, we weren't together that long in the scheme of things. Yes, it took us years to be friends.<br />
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Ass is my best guy friend. We fight. A LOT. I love it. We fight about him liking my page. (he has not) We fight about him bringing me a frosty. (He will not) And him not being Superman (not even close) Ass is an important man (in his head) because he is a bucket fixer. I am very proud of him, even if he does drive me insanely crazy because he does opposite everything I tell him to do.<br />
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<a href="http://www.facebook.com/afort4spitfyre" target="_blank">LLH</a> is just... amazingface. She's one of my bests. Seriously. I can't deny it. AT ALL. I was going to go out and visit her but things with Buh came up and I had to stay home, and it just sucked. I wish I could see her. She's getting married in less than weeks, and I can't be there. :( LLH is short for Lovely Licket Holder. (Best nickname ever)<br />
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Douchebag is my ex. The name should say it all.<br />
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Regulars... did I leave anyone out??<br />
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*BSWK*Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-19869085889057409882012-04-23T18:15:00.000-04:002012-04-23T18:15:06.082-04:00The Best Friend Law. v2.5 (The updated version)BFL #1. Make your best read these laws, and abide by them. (Or whichever ones you want to enforce, I'm pretty easy.)<br />
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BFL #2. You must bring me a frosty at least once a year. The size of said frosty is left to your discretion. This can, and let's be real... you're an ass so most likely will, be the smallest frosty available.<br />
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BFL #3. If either party hosts a get together and invites the other party, they must make an appearance. The only excuses to dodge said invites are as follows... sex, work, school, sleep, sex, family obligations (in which said family can't just tag along.) OH! -and sex.<br />
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BFL #4. If you have a hot single guy friend, who isn't a fucking girl, and won't fall in love, you *MUST* share him with me. You know me well enough to know what I would be attracted too, and you know sense of humor and personality are important. And no bullshit where I have to yell at you about something weird he pulled. (This law is specific to Slut/Ass friendom. But feel free to steal this law and use it for yourself.)<br />
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<li>v 2.5 I do not have to share any hot female friends I have, until I have already decided if I want to keep them for myself. </li>
<li>I also do not have to share them if they are close enough friends to me, that it would be uber awkward to let you date them. </li>
<li>If either party has slept with a specific girl, she is off limits to the other party, unless previously agreed that she is fair game. (Kinda like a brocode, only for Sluts... Not that this should be a problem, but you never know.)</li>
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BFL #5. If I need help, and you have the ability to help me, but you don't... you have to wear a bucket on your head, denounce your bucket mastery and sing "There's a Hole in the Bucket" three times with a bucket on your head.<br />
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BFL #6. Every year on my approximate birthday, you must do something completely crazy and funny. For example, put on a Superman cape and all day and every hour on the hour stop what you are doing and say "I have an amazingface Slut in my life... today is her day." I would prefer this spectacle to happen while I am available to watch, but if you aren't able to be physically with me... Pictures and/or video is acceptable.<br />
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BFL #7. Any and all secrets shared are to be kept secrets. This doesn't include well known secrets.. like that I am fucking boss. Or that you are awesome (Yeah, I admitted it... On my blog no less... but we need to be honest here... *I* am what makes you so awesome!! lol) This DOES include my birthday, which you have hopefully forgotten the exact date already.<br />
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BFL #8. Demands for musics should always be handled in a timely fashion. (This goes either way... If you decide you need musics too.)<br />
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BFL #9. If we are ever out together, and Creepy McCreeper is creeping around... I am fully allowed to hide behind you. And vice versa, if Skankalicious St. Dirty is chasing you around, you have every right to stand too close to me... as long as it doesn't fuck up my flow with any mark I am working on.<br />
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BFL #10. I am allowed to ask any stupid question I like, and you are not allowed to say it's stupid. You can look at me stupid, you can laugh (if you aren't verbally speaking to me) and you can roll your eyes, but you can't say it's a stupid question. It will hurt my feelbad, and possibly make me cry.<br />
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BFL #11. If at any point you make me cry, I am entitled to an apology and vegetation, or a hug and a frosty. (This frosty is extra to the one a year.)<br />
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BFL #12. If you recognize the signs, you are allowed to ignore me during shark week... But if you call it wrong, and you thought it was shark week, and it wasn't.... You will owe me something. I'm not sure what yet, but a frosty is getting kinda old... so this will be decided at a later date. lol (I know I get crazy, but mostly I just get whiny... and I know I know, it gets irritating.)<br />
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BFL #13. Someday I will tell you the "Jesus story." When I do, you are allowed to laugh... but you are not allowed to hold it over my head for the rest of eternity. And if you can't promise that, you will never know the hilarity of the "Jesus story."<br />
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BFL #14. If I say you have to sleep, you have to sleep. If I say do your homework, you should do your homework. If I am taking classes and I say do my homework, you have to do my homework. I'll show you my boobs. We both know that's not a big deal to me, so I can still use it to try to get my way. lol If I say you need to eat, you know I mean a home cooked meal, and not going to dinner. This is not going to stop. So, just DO.WHAT.YOU.ARE.TOLD.<br />
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BFL #15. If you see me slippin, you are obligated to call me on it. This includes throwing rocks at me. I will cry, and then you will have to refer to BFL #11. But I will stop slippin.<br />
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BFL #16. If I ever do anything that pisses you off... you aren't allowed to bitch to other people, you are not allowed to just brood over it either. You are OBLIGATED to message/call/come over and fight it out with me. I know you think you have a temper, but I'm not scared. Besides, in my book... it's not a real friendship until you've had some ups and downs.<br />
<br />BFL #17. I gave you the opportunity to write a few laws yourself... and this is what you said... so I am putting it in here... "i got no rules for you lol. loyalty and trust is all i look for in a friendship" To which I replied "Those are understood DUH." (Do you have any idea how hard that was to not fix that??? I just copied and pasted and it's killing me that you didn't capitalize anything.... maybe that should be a law??)<div>
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BFL #18. You can't get mad at me for correcting your spelling and grammar. I can get mad at you for messing it up tho. </div>
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BFL #19. No beating on inanimate objects. You can tell yourself it was full of kryptonite, you can tell the world it was full of kryptonite... but we both know you were just throwing a tizzy. So... BFL law says that from now on, if you aren't going to punch dude in the face, you have to hit something with a little give in it. No walls, trees, street signs, ball returns, cars, trains, mirrors, windows, televisions, or anything else I haven't listed but you know I wouldn't be cool with you hitting. So, until you get a heavy bag, you are stuck punching pillows, and people. Sorry. lmfao</div>
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BFL #20. Surprise friend requests are illegal from now on. I am pretty sure you know what I mean, but if not... I can and will expand on this subject.</div>
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*BSWK*</div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">fine print. I love fine print so much. I can write a lot in a little space and you probably can't read it and that means I can say anything I want. Like, I am glad you are my friend. Like, you know you should get me a frosty, just because it would make me happy and why wouldn't you want to make me happy? I mean seriously... everyone should want to make me happy, except those asshats who don't like me... and really is there any call for that?? No. I don't think so. I really hope you can't read this, and it's making you nervous, that would be fucking EPIC. I would giggle insanely. My luck tho, you'll be able to read it, or copy and paste it somewhere so it's big enough to read... And that's just not as funny to me. But the purpose of this fine print, aside from hopefully making you nervous, is to say Best Friend Law #21 is be open and honest. The honest part is pretty easy for you... It's scary for me. The open part seems to be a little harder for you, and is like breathing for me. But really, just do it. Or I will cry... and then you will have to bring me white calla lilies... or an orchid. I really want an orchid. But that only applies to this law. Now, stop grinning, and message me... I got things to tell you.</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-44818637503328070762012-04-15T19:15:00.000-04:002012-04-15T19:15:22.513-04:00Is it really true?I have been quoted toting the typical "Best way to get over someone, is to get under someone else." It sounds air tight. And previous practice has upheld this cliche time and time again. Think about it. Someone just makes you forget about life for a few hours, you remember the thrill of the hunt. I've never had a time when it didn't make me feel stronger, and more viable... and let's face it... That's the key to getting over someone. Liking someone for a little while tends to make you feel a little weak -- even if just for that person. And finding strength again is an empowering thing, which makes us chase that feeling until you realize you've let go.<br />
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But recently I have been questioning that very vapid statement. Would it really help? Or would it make feelings blow up in your face? Because it could you know?? It could make every.single.thing. you've been running from an inescapable truth. And are you ready for that? Are you ready to have to make the decisions that are going to be glaringly obvious now?<br />
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We all know that I am adamant about always being right. It's just a fact (STOP LAUGHING! It's *my* fantasy, let me live it.) So I am uncomfortable with this recent pondering of my right-ness. It'll be okay, because I will figure out a way to spin it, so I am still right, even if getting over someone is easier under someone else isn't always a true statement.<br />
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So where do you guys stand? Is the statement true? Or is it a fallacy we preach to ourselves as a coping mechanism? Comment here or send me an email. Silly_Slut@rocketmail.com<br />
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*BSWK*Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-58015134606233674142012-03-30T23:25:00.000-04:002012-03-30T23:25:05.059-04:00As I sit hereAs I sit here on a Friday night, among a myriad of dirty dishes that need washed, three loads of clean dishes that need put away, a smelly puppy in my lap who wouldn't die if I bathed her, and a master bedroom that STILL needs unpacked, I just don't have the get up and go to take care of all of it. I have hit a slump.<br />
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It has been 5 months since I have been turned out. There are many who seem interested, but when it comes down to it, they aren't coming through. Then there's the stupid one that *I* want, and he isn't on it. I guess I am just not as amazing as some people think. SADFACE SLUT. Oh and I have those friends who are convinced that he's on it, I am just not putting it out right. But for real, I put it out there the way it's gotta be. I don't see anything wrong with "Let's fuck until something else happens." Enough about that, I am going back to complaining about all the other ones.<br />
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Don't call me and tell me you want to spend some time, then not come through. I am not a backup plan. Don't tell me you look at my pics and about nut on yourself, then not make some time. I can't get together on a week night, I have a kid who is old enough to know what's going on.... and no one wants to see their mom like that. Don't fawn over me, cause that shit just gets on my nerves. I just needed to blast that out.<br />
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Oh and I recently took some half decent pics and I can't send them where I would get an honest fucking answer because boys are fucking stupid and should have rocks thrown at them.<br />
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Well... I have avoided my responsibilities all day. I guess I need to get at them. :/<br />
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*BSWK*Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-11623224671478608502012-03-21T01:18:00.001-04:002012-03-21T01:26:51.875-04:00Application for a Piece of AssFull name ________________________________________________________________<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> Last Middle First</span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span><br />
Address _______________________ Years at address _____ Date of Birth _ _ /_ _ /_ _ _ _ <br />
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Hair/eye color _______________ Ht ______ Wt_____ Length ______ Circumference______<br />
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How much weight can you bench? ________________ How many reps is that? ____________<br />
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How long can you stay up at night?<br />
__ evening sitcoms __ the late show __all night __until I'm satisfied<br />
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Do you perform oral sex? __yes ___no<br />
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If yes, what level of competitor are you?<br />
____ "That's a clitoris?" ____ "I've done it a time or two." <br />
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____ "Never had any complaints" ____ "I can make a lesbian cum."<br />
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___ "Hold on, I can't see through your belly button to answer this question, flip over and I can put this on your back and finish this application."<br />
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How many people have you been with? ______<br />
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Give three references to your abilities and prowess. (Current phone numbers, and recent pictures also)<br />
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1.) ___________________________________________________________________________ _____<br />
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2.) ___________________________________________________________________________ _____<br />
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3.) ___________________________________________________________________________ _____<br />
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Please use last line to check mark those who have bisexual tendencies.<br />
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Have you ever had group sex (more than 3 people.) If yes, indicate how many were involved in said group, and how long ago it was. ___ no ____ yes _______________ people involved.<br />
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Do you have issues with having sex in public? ___ no ___ yes!<br />
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What is the kinkiest thing you would ever consider doing? In complete detail...<br />
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___________________________________________________________________________________<br />
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___________________________________________________________________________________<br />
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___________________________________________________________________________________<br />
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___________________________________________________________________________________<br />
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___________________________________________________________________________________<br />
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How do you feel about toys?<br />
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___ Matchbox cars have no place in the bedroom. ___ Are we using them on YOU or ME??<br />
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___ I am too much man for you to need a toy. ____ I own stock in 3 distributors, what you want?<br />
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Where are you in your romantic life?<br />
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___ Don't you think that's a bit personal for a piece of ass? ___ Meh, I'm doing me, til I ain't no more.<br />
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___ Not lookin, but if it happens it happens. ____ I have a house in the 'burbs & china pattern picked<br />
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When you cum do you (check all that apply)<br />
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____ scream ____ cry ____thrash ____ hit _____ scratch _____ moan ____ bark<br />
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____ go hard ____ kick ____ wiggle ____ convulse _____ twist ____ jerk _____ vomit<br />
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While fucking do you (check all that apply)<br />
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____ burp/fart ____ go to sleep _____ just lay there ______ faint _____whistle ______ scratch<br />
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____ talk dirty ____ get bossy _____ smack _____ bite _____ moan _____ go deep<br />
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What are your top two fave positions?<br />
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1. ___________________________ 2. ___________________________<br />
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If this application is reviewed favorably, what hours are you available? Please circle what days those hours are applicable on. ______________________________________________<br />
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Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday Sunday<br />
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Current phone number and email address and facebook. ____________________________<br />
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____________________________________<br />
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____________________________________<br />
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Don't call me, I will call you. I may be intoxicated, but if I call you get one chance, if you aren't ready, you will be bypassed for the next qualified applicant. Thank you for your time. By signing this application you agree that all answers are truth, under punishment of blue balls that will make you want to vomit.<br />
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_________________________________________________ ______________________<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Applicant Signature Date</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-82812797128487338852012-03-15T02:23:00.000-04:002012-03-15T02:23:24.981-04:00Tactical Flirting.So, I was trying to discuss this with the guys in my life, and most of them don't even get the idea. They don't understand it. So I am going to try to break it down and maybe you can give me the deets in the comments or email me Silly_Slut@rocketmail.com and I can write another one in the future about it, with all the information I glean from your input.<br />
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Guys, are you ever talking to a girl, and she says the perfect thing at the perfect time? Or she says something that stirs a past conversation in your mind and makes you smile because of it? She's tactical flirting. She remembered that shit, she's studied you.... She KNOWS what to say and when because she's paid attention... She's kept a mental scorecard in her head of the good and the bad. (Tactical fighting works the same way, only to the negative. lol)<br />
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Girls pay attention. Do guys? Do they specifically remember things to bring up? If you are diggin on a girl, do you remember stupid little things to bring up at a later date to gently mind fuck her?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-22189961372601159972012-03-14T03:06:00.000-04:002012-03-14T03:06:54.472-04:00What I miss...I was thinking Sunday morning as I was laying in my bed... all by my lonesome... I miss lazy Sunday sex. You know what that is? It's not even just one go-round. It's waking up, smiling and off with any jammies and on with the lets-not-hurry-this-lets-just-take-all-day-and-enjoy-it sex. Where you take your time, you have round one, then you take a nap, or get some food, but you don't shower cause you know you will do it again in a little while. You spend all day in bed. You watch a movie in bed, you eat in bed, you talk in bed.... and you do serious amounts of pleasuring IN BED.<br />
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I know, I know!! I am The Slut. I should only talk about random wild fuckings in the craziest of crazy places and the randomest of random partners. I *am* the girl who had sex in downtown Pittsburgh in a thunderstorm. (Sorry Aunt PS... I know you follow and you prolly don't wanna know all that!! But hey, you are my {and always have been my} fave aunt... so I am cool with you knowing crap. lol) But my point is, not every single encounter has to be a Penthouse Letter. Right? I don't always have to want that do I?<br />
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Am I losing my Slutdom?? Craving something so mundane and pedestrian?? Can I want something so easy and domesticated, and still pull off the daring and <i>there's-no-way-you-did-that-you-read-it-in-a-magazine-somewhere</i> encounters? I don't want someone to make love to me... I am cool on that. I just want something passionate, and hot, even though it's not throw me on the bed and own me.<br />
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That word... I think that's where I am stuck. PASSIONATE. I haven't really had that since DB. I haven't had anyone make me feel like I was the only girl in the world for a little while. I want to be touched like I was porcelain, kissed like fire, and ravished like tomorrow isn't an option. I want to be WANTED. I want to be desired. I want to be seduced. I want to be spellbound for a night. I want to be just as bewitched as I am bewitching. <br />
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I honestly just want a weekend where I can play house. Lemme take care of you, lemme cook dinner, lemme rub your back, lemme wait on you hand and foot... and as thank you show me ecstasy that will make me weak for a few hours. Then, you can go on home to your life, and let me have mine. I don't even want it every weekend... just one soon. Blech. I hate this shit.<br />
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Why does it have to always be so complicated? Why can't I just have what I want? It's not even like I want a relationship, I'm not even asking for any type of monogamy... just make me shudder and cum. Give me goosebumps... I promise I will be grateful. I'm not the normal girl who's going to catch feelings about you being buried inside me... No matter how good it is. Right now... I just want my weekend... Of just amazing sex.... repeatedly... just catch me up on the last 5 months so I am not ready to throat punch everyone.<br />
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Hell I'd be happy with just a day of lazy Sunday sex.<br />
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*BSWK*Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-54310239532861224632012-03-08T15:10:00.000-05:002012-03-08T15:10:45.824-05:00WW3 at my houseSo last night Lil D and her man got into WW3 over her keys. She was drunk and ADAMANT that he had her keys, and he SWORE he didn't have them. Hours go by, and she's getting drunker and he goes to bed. She goes in there at like 3 am and starts SCREAMING at him about these damn keys and she wants her mother fucking keys!! He gets up, and starts fighting back. Keep in mind, there are 2 kids here who had to be up for school this morning. I crawl out of bed, and go into the hallway outside their bedroom and start screaming at both of them to STFU!<br />
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They quiet down, and I go back into my bedroom and lit a cigarette. I hear some doors slamming and Lil D sobbing. She's standing outside my door, calling my name. I answer her. She comes in, and stands there crying for a minute. Then says "I'll be right back" She goes outside. Now she's drunk, and her ghetto crazy is showing, and I can't let her wander around our quiet little neighborhood like this, so I get up. He is no where to be found. She's sobbing in the front seat of her car. I ask her where he is. She sobs harder. Says she doesn't know, he's out here walking! I get her back in the house.<br />
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Now, I was married a long long long time to someone who when the fight got that bad, and an out was provided, would walk. It was just one of those things. It's HOW we fought. So I pulled those memories up. Where would DB have gone in this instance? AHA! Out the back door I went. There sat Lil D's man, on the plastic loveseat they had drug over to the fire. Feet up on the table, tryina sleep. I hit him on the knee and said scoot. He did. We talked for a minute. I gave him the second half of my smoke and told him to get back in the house. He asked me to leave the door unlocked, and I did.<br />
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I went back in the house and commenced to trying to straighten out Lil D. Belligerent, crying, piss ass drunk, and just being a dumb broad, I yelled at her. I told her she shouldn't be picking fights with him, she needs to stop pushing him away if she doesn't want him to leave her. Because that's what it is. Her man got a job, and she's freaking out thinking he's going to leave her because he can support himself now. So she's just being stupid and pushing him away. During this time, I hear the sliding glass door open and close, and him walk through the house to the living room.<br />
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She kept going and going and going. It was 4 am and she was still sitting there freaking out about her keys and him leaving and how he can KICK FUCKING ROCKS because he walked out on her. Blah blah fuckin blah. I kept telling her she was crying like a bitch and she was being fucking ignorant. Then she started crying because she was worried about him walking in the middle of the night alone. "It's fucking dark out there! It's cold! And he's all alone!!!!" I laughed so fucking hard I fell on the floor literally. Her man is fresh out. Like in Jan. PRISON. She scared of him being ALONE in a quiet almost country like setting?!?! That's too fucking rich for me. I couldn't help it. I ragged on her like you wouldn't believe.<br />
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We come back into the kitchen. She's trippin about her keys again. She dumps her purse on the counter, while I am standing in the door to the living room. She's not calm enough yet to know he's in the house. She's shaking her purse... I say "Why does it sound like you have keys in your purse?" She says "IDK but it DOES sound like I have keys in my purse." Lo and behold... her gotdamn keys were in her gotdamn purse. Because just like he'd said a MILLION FUCKING TIMES, he'd given them back to her.<br />
<br />
As soon as she had her keys, she was tryina be out the door looking for him. I told her three times, you ain't going no where. Go to bed, and sleep. You need to sleep. "No no no, I need to go find him! There are SPIDERS out there... you know he's scared of SPIDERS!!" No. You ain't going nowhere. get your ass to bed. "I'll bet you $10 he's walking down <i>'the main drag'</i> all alone!!" I turned my head and said "bout to rat you out." And when I turned back I smiled very sweetly and told her... "Shake on the shit. I bet you he's not." She was so drunk, she didn't get the rat you out part that I tossed over my shoulder, and she shook. As we were shaking she was runnin jibs about it. As we let go of the handshake, a male voice comes from the living room "Don't you take your ass out that door." Her eyes got HUGE! I said "You owe me a ten."<br />
<br />
I laughed hard again. She ran in there to make sure he was all whole and real. And then commenced to getting mad at me for knowing where he was the whole time. She needed to calm down. He just wanted left alone. I can respect that. So I buffered for him. Had I let her know where he was, she wouldn't have fought it out with me and listened to what I had to say... which is basically stop letting the crazy ghetto bitch show. She would have pushed and pushed him... and it would have gotten ugly. She had already swung on him before I had gotten involved. She came out of the living room and back into the kitchen and I was sitting on the bar stool smoking and LAUGHING my ASS off!!! (I fell again I was laughing so hard about "Oh my man is outside in the dark and alone and it's cold and there are spiders!! What-ever-will-I-do?!?" Dumb broad. It's not like he's some bitch who couldn't handle himself! I'm laughing at the shit now as I am typing this.)<br />
<br />
So I tell her... "You know you a drunk bitch when you lose your boyfriend in the living room... jus' sayin'." I think that's what did her in. She started runnin her mouth that she was going to kick my ass. Which incited RIOTOUS laughter from me. I know how a ghetto psycho fights, and trust... I was sober. She couldn't have hurt me.... but she thought she would give it a try!! ROFLMMFAO! She grabbed me by the shoulders and used her weight to pull me to the floor. Then she crawled on top of me and tried putting her hands on my throat. Yeah, I was laughing so hard I couldn't hold still enough for her to get the purchase she wanted. I bucked my hips and she fell to the side. I was STILL giggling. Her man had come in and yelled at her to calm the fuck down, I didn't even care. She could get rowdy... I couldn't stop laughin at her stupid ass.<br />
<br />
I got up off the floor, sat my bar stool back up, was still chuckling while she was standing there telling me I needed my ass kicked because I went behind her back, I was supposed to be her girl, blah blah blah. I looked at her and told her to eat a few bowls of wheaties and when she's grown she can come talk to me, but I was going to bed until then. And to "Leave that man alone, let him sleep!"<br />
<br />
Now, to some people, it may seem that my loyalty was to him at that time. But really... it wasn't. She was in the wrong. And I am okay with calling her out on it. She's never going to learn, or grow if she doesn't know when she's wrong. She wants to be a grown ass woman... She just isn't sure how right now. So I will tell her. Her and I have already had the 'act like a mother fucking lady once in awhile' talk. I don't always act like a lady... but I do know how and when to. I also know when to let someone know I am not the one they want to fuck with. I want her to learn the same things.<br />
<br />
I told them both to go the fuck to sleep and shit would be better in the morning... and guess what? They both just crawl their happy asses out of bed and are just fine. Now... if only I can get them to help me clean this mess they left last night......<br />
<br />
"It's DARK and SCARY and COLD outside!! He's ALL ALONE!!!" too fuckin funny!<br />
<br />
*BSWK*Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-79947978932897986992012-03-07T22:19:00.000-05:002012-03-07T22:19:05.303-05:00A what??Since I met Nan, in a creative writing class as a freshman in high school, she has bitched at me to write a book. For a very very long time my mother would boast of my wordsmithing abilities, my sister has even told me a few times that I am a good. But Nan has been the one to push me the most. I never thought I could. I have problems with beginning middle and end, for a story line. I always start with the middle... Or the juicy parts. Then I don't continue the story after the juicy parts. I told you the part I wanted you to know. I don't care about what happened before or what happened after. I want you to know about the feelings of being wrapped up in that one moment. I don't want you to suffer through the mundane of my characters lives. I don't even want you to think of them as characters... I want you to see yourself in that moment. Yourself, and the person that would most fit with you. I want you to honestly feel like I peeked in and pulled your fantasy from the depths of your mind. Or woke something inside you that you didn't think was there. And this prevents me from doing a traditional story line. Which, a book needs, no way around that.<br />
<br />
But I was laying in bed the other night, and my brain was on auto-pilot and bouncing from subject to subject without me policing it. I, of course, ended up on the topic of sex a few times.... Different people, different places, different times, and then on to other, more mundane things, like getting a job, paying the bills, getting things in order the right way, what I want to do with my life. And I do want to write a book. I just have no idea how to. I think I *may* have a good idea as to how to do it... but I have to write a little bit and see if I can get it to work. Maybe I will write a bit and post it and get some feedback about it. Would you guys be up to helpin a Slut out like that?? I need honesty, but not brutality. Can I trust you guys with that??<br />
<br />
Lemme know. <3<br />
<br />
*BSWK*Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-32683451378310200862012-03-03T03:15:00.000-05:002012-03-03T03:15:36.427-05:00The first nightSo it's my first night here at Chateau de Père. I haven't gotten anything done that I thought I would have gotten done. I have sat my fat ass here at the breakfast bar and played buck euchre with Lil D (My step sister) and her man. My friend beta stopped out to see the place and hang out for a bit.<br />
<br />
The bedroom is still back there, full of disarray and chaos. Clothes thrown everywhere, a disassembled ceiling fan in the corner, just crap everywhere. The only two things I have to complain about with getting this room is that #1 the only window is itty bitty tiny. I like big windows and lots of natural light. And the decor, kinda. You know those decal, decoration, words on the wall things? Okay, so one or two is okay, depending on what they say. The one by the door... it says "Live Laugh Love" or some shit like that. I can deal with that. I've done the triple L thing a few times. The one above where the head of the bed will go?? Absolutely hilarious... It's something about a home being somewhere where everyone feels welcome. (Yes, I laughed.) But there's one over each of the night stands. Something about Love one Another or something, and there's one on the opposite wall about Family.... those kinda kill the whole single-girl-lookin-for-a-good-time and make me look like a stalker-crazy-skank-in-the-making. I still have to check the bed and see if cleaning it worked. I hated putting my bed in storage, but I enjoyed my gypsy life last summer.<br />
<br />
It was great. Buh was either in NC with his dad, or was in TN with my sister and my mom. There were nights that I didn't know where I was going to stay, or who I was going to stay with. It was freeing and exhilarating. I couch surfed for awhile before settling with Sissy for awhile. It let me learn about myself in a way that I wouldn't had I stayed where I had been.<br />
<br />
Lil D says dad isn't around much. He stops in once a day and changes clothes and goes to work. He sleeps at the apt. (It's a complicated situation, and it's none of my business to be completely honest. But yes, my dad and step mom live in an apt in the township over, and own this house in the 'docks.) There's so much the house needs. A decent sized dining room table and chairs, the grouting and tiling need finished in the kitchen and bathroom, doorknobs need replaced, the lighting needs capped off and finished. And curtains... My gawd it needs curtains. And I guess it's a grand to fix the pool and get it ready for Summer. I need a job. Too bad I can't get paid to just blog and facebook and hang out. Life would be so grand. I would be soooo balla.<br />
<br />
Anylaid, I am avoiding doing the shit I need to do, even tho I am sooo tired and ready to crawl in bed. I hope Jennybae brings my bedding tomorrow so I have enough blankets and sheets. And I hope Nan remembered to grab my pillows from Sissy's. But I *HAVE* to get off my ass and go at least put the bed down if I want to sleep tonight. And since no one has done it for me... I will go pout about it now. :(<br />
<br />
*BSWK*Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-18811868409274123482012-02-29T03:20:00.001-05:002012-03-01T00:21:44.233-05:00The Game<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div>you are there, sitting next to me, hand on my thigh. fingers twitching with the longing of smoothing up into warmer recesses. I always smile and act coy. it's a game, and we both know it. it's the "who's going to loose first" game. i'll part my knees just a touch, just enough for your hand to slip just a little. i see the sweat bead up on your brow, it's cute how easy it is for me to win this. i'll sigh and put my head on your shoulder. you'll kiss the top of my head. we're trying so hard to be chaste, but it's a loosing battle. i'm going to make an excuse for us to stand up. i can't move my next chess piece unless i can wrap my arms around your neck and press the stretch of my body against yours. and i can... i'll press my face into your neck and sigh again, this time with a hint of a moan in the back of my throat. you won't be able to help yourself, you'll pull me closer, you'll smell my skin. your hands will run from my lower back to my hips and up to my ribs. and this, of course, will be your first serious move. you've put your pawn out in the open, silly silly boy. i will take it with a brush of my lips across your throat and a smile that says 'you know you are going to loose.' and i let go, walking away. you are going to watch as long as you can then we both know you will follow. Ohhh lookie... your car is right here and for some reason i need to touch the windshield wipers. you don't see what i could possibly be reaching for, because all you seem to notice is how short my skirt is. and how splayed across the hood of your car puts me at a curious angle. i laugh to myself. i don't have to see it or hear it... i smell it coming. hands on my hips again, you are behind me. pressing into me, i bite back my own moan. where did my shirt go? hell i don't remember loosing it... maybe because the feel of your mouth on my back is suddenly the most important thing in the world, but that... that's normal. hands on my ribs bringing my upper half to mold against your chest... mouth on the nape of my neck, hands everywhere. i fleetingly wonder if you grew more, before giving in to the moan that has been fighting its way out of my throat. once it frees itself i hear your own in echo to mine. i still have a few more moments before i loose. i hope that pushing my ass into you and moaning again will be enough to break you. no, not yet, but close. it's close enough that now your hands are reaching under my skirt... there i know i have won now. fingers whett as soon as you touch me, you couldnt help but to utter your own curses when you felt no fabric barrier between me and you. legs trapped between you and the car, you shove a foot against mine to spread my legs. you run your hands back down my ribs to my hips, knowing full well this will make me bend back over and arch my body. i hear your zipper and i smile to myself. i look over my shoulder and let you see my triumph. tell me i've won, or i'll finish myself and make you watch, then leave. for a second a split second, i don't think you can tell me what i want to hear. maybe we pushed too far this time? no, no no no no. you smile, like the cat in the cream, and you pull me back against you and as you slide the hard length of you into my soft secret, you whisper in my ear 'you won. i can't take not being burried inside you not one second longer.' the combonation of the two acts so invasive and yet so tender, make me cum immediately. my chest flat now, against the cold metal of the hood, i have nothing to grab onto, nothing to hold. i feel as if i am flailing in the darkness. your hands on my wrists instantly calm me. wrapped now, behind my back my hands are pinned. i hear you, whispering dark arts and desolate dreams, i can't take it... my body disassembles and is one with the cosmos for a few short moments. i cum so hard for you, and as if on command, as if the realization of that simple thing causes me to let go again. has it been minutes or days? i can't tell any longer. The car is warm under me, and you are becoming more frantic... i know you are close too. i hit again, and as soon as i start falling from the far side of my orgasm, you cum too. falling on my back, laughing like teenagers, you kiss my cheek and stand back up. you have my shirt in your hand, i put it back on... still playing coy, yet i haven't figured out a way to hide that evil glint in my eye. i crawl into the front seat of the car, and after you turn the key, your hand lands on my thigh. and i open my knees just enough to make your hand slip.... and we start all over again... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwkpTrwAjjKof82Zi0uU7Y-YSr2SvfJy0FQ9qPUsW9F9LeTX6cdCAFgo939cMgSeyjbBlnaVHysGB5ihAnlMQSSpFdbVNmWX3PtNpwqy4ASTz1gFSQXDuAyWA5J0CB9UVc2QUy0HnRPzE/s1600/thigh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwkpTrwAjjKof82Zi0uU7Y-YSr2SvfJy0FQ9qPUsW9F9LeTX6cdCAFgo939cMgSeyjbBlnaVHysGB5ihAnlMQSSpFdbVNmWX3PtNpwqy4ASTz1gFSQXDuAyWA5J0CB9UVc2QUy0HnRPzE/s320/thigh.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-60843345252638158452012-02-24T18:27:00.000-05:002012-02-24T18:27:38.468-05:00Life is about to change....So, I have vented a few times about Buh and his issues, I have posted about him now being medicated. I have expressed my undeniable frustration over the whole situation. I have not posted about having to move. <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Sissy-B/310089035677832?ref=ts" target="_blank">Sissy</a> and Midget are running scarce on room, and have asked me to see if I can find somewhere else. I am totally cool with that. They have helped me out, and have made sure that I discontinued my life as a zombie. I love them both so much and could not express the amount of gratitude I have for them just being them.<br />
<br />
I am moving in with my dad. This should help Buh immensely. Dad is a Supreme Alpha, and he will not let a pup come in and bark and whine over his howl. And that is what Buh needs. He doesn't see me as an Alpha, so I can't pull that rank with him. I am his Alpha, but I don't do brute strength over him... and that's why he doesn't respect me as such. But Dad will help reinstill that respect. I will also be 'the woman of the house' again. I miss that. I miss planning dinner and taking care of people who need me to take care of them. Here, I'm just not needed like I want to be needed. Sissy takes care of her family.<br />
<br />
There are lists and lists of things that are just amazingface reasons that I should just be bouncing up and down that I am moving in with him. I will have a bedroom, and my bed. I haven't had a bedroom of my own in over a year, and the only time I have slept in a bed is if I spent the night with someone. I will have some privacy. I will be able to lose that 15 pounds I want gone. I will be able to have run of the kitchen, the house. He's going to help me get back on my feet, he'll help me with my bills. But... my dad, as much as I love and adore him, is verbally and emotionally abusive.<br />
<br />
He has this knack for making me feel worthless. "You know, you might be pretty if you tried hard enough." "It wouldn't hurt you to lose some weight, you are never going to find someone to love you if you are a fat slob" (I weighed 102 pounds when he said that to me. I am only 5'4".) "I don't understand why you are so stupid. You can't do anything right can you??" In front of a PACKED bar one night, my loving father yelled at me that I wasn't smart enough to go to a 'real 4 year college' because I was talking about being a masseuse, and it's an 18 month course then certifications. No, that didn't hurt at all. He has told me that I am the coldest, black heartedest person he'd ever met.... over a girl he was dating. I mean, since I was 13 my nickname has been 'The Bitch.' When DB and I were still married, he would call and if DB answered the phone he would say "What up? Where's The Bitch?" And I would hear... "Baby, your dad's on the phone."<br />
<br />
I am hoping I am grown enough, and my grasp on psychology is good enough that I can survive this. I know WHY he does it... or at least I believe I know why. My dad had a very hard life. His biological father was bi-polar and self medicated with mass quantities of alcohol. Alcohol which in turn made him physically abusive to my grandmother and all of his children. When my dad was 9 or so, his dad took off and was never to be seen or heard from again. (Much to the relief of my grandmother.) After he left, my grandmother remarried. My dad and aunts and uncle say that Grandma ruled with an iron fist, and their step-dad (here on out to be Grandpa) was a hard man too. There were a lot of kids. There were times there was no money, and they went without. They got their asses beat, and they learned respect and manners and everything that made them the amazingface people they are today. (MFW all the fucking way!!)<br />
<br />
But my dad was a skinny 4 eyed nerd in high school. His brother was Don motherfucking Juan with the girls. Dad was smart, and never got any recognition for it. Unc was a pot head who would fuck anything that moved... and was praised. When my dad and mom got together, he felt like he'd hit the lotto. (Mom was a beauty.... like seriously... even at 14 she was WOW) After being married to my mom, he gained weight, and people still treated him like he was an idiot. His self esteem isn't what it should be. (My dad is a good looking older man. Think broad shoulders, dark hair, piercing blue eyes.)<br />
<br />
Along comes baby. I was named after my dad. And Buh was named after my dad. My mother could not have given me a more fitting name. I have his eyes, I have a softer bone structure.. but it's his, I have lighter (natural) hair, but it's just as thick. I sit like him when I am angry, my right elbow on my knee, left hand on my hip, knees spread. I am my father all over again. I have his attitude, his "FUCK YOU. I DO WHAT I WANT!" and the "Fuck you, I'm right." He is who I learned how to be Alpha from. Mom is how I learned how to be Omega.<br />
<br />
So maybe his reasoning is... In his view, he is stupid, unattractive, and heavy... and I am him in a female form... I must be stupid, unattractive, and heavy. And he's trying to ready me for what society is going to say about me and to me... He's trying to toughen my skin. Makes a modicum of sense. Kinda. Not really. But I need to rationalize it somehow. Why else would you say such things to your daughter?? This isn't a new development. I have heard this stuff my whole life.<br />
<br />
I don't think he's realized what he's done to my self esteem. I know, I know... The Slut?!?! Low self esteem?!?! Yeah... You guys might need to remember that The Slut is just an amp'ed up facet of my personality... but only one facet.<br />
<br />
Now you have the other side... maybe someday I will blog about the MegaBeast (my sister) lmfao. I hope I can lean on you guys while I am doin this. <3<br />
<br />
*BSWK*Unknownnoreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-84135707586627799952012-02-23T04:29:00.000-05:002012-02-23T04:29:45.362-05:00Do you see it?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/JDsI0CtGb1k?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
Yes, it's a commercial. It's a commercial you have probably seen a million times. Did you really watch it tho? I know, I know... It's a nice fuckin commercial... hotness all around... But go back and really really watch it this time. I'll wait.<br />
<br />
Did you see it? That few seconds of this commercial that I would be interested in pointing out to my peoples? At 0:17 you see a beta get Alpha'd. Okay... I will wait again... ::sighs and crosses arms.:: Just 3 seconds and BAM it was done. That beta knew where he stood.<br />
<br />
Could you do that? Can you pull the attention away from someone else that easily? Do you understand WHAT it is that gives some that power and others lack it? Some people would say it's confidence, some would say it's sex appeal, some say it's pheromones. I think it's Factor X.<br />
<br />
I uploaded a pic on the page that I think is the ingredients for Factor X. Here it is...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4nGUhPbwjT1H7xYflC1i7zNCpADWepkXFnisWi43x9HQfZudsJR0m41wWPAlEXYra4uZcyZwLyVI_jV82CTpLhvAyJw9yLjZTmUtiRQJSCjEuxCQM2WNuFE37Yyf0xIAdB-S5zVCKSh8/s1600/boysrecipeforawesome.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4nGUhPbwjT1H7xYflC1i7zNCpADWepkXFnisWi43x9HQfZudsJR0m41wWPAlEXYra4uZcyZwLyVI_jV82CTpLhvAyJw9yLjZTmUtiRQJSCjEuxCQM2WNuFE37Yyf0xIAdB-S5zVCKSh8/s400/boysrecipeforawesome.png" width="400" /></a></div>Gorilla Testosterone for physical size and arrogance. Courage, because how you going to be a hero if you don't have the guts to? Dragon Sweat for whimsy, strength and heart. Fire Extract for passion, you gotta be able to take the heat. Rhinoceros Blood for that never back down, never lose, personality trait. Doe Urine just for the simple fact of, you could provide. If we're stranded in the wilderness, you could take down a buck and we wouldn't starve.<br />
That is sexy. Add to that the physical attributes that said female finds attractive. Shake, let steep for a few years and serve. Preferably naked. ;)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I was sittin here, watching this commercial for the millionth time, and I noticed how easily that guy beta'd the other guy. And I thought... I wonder who else noticed this? And felt I must blog about it. So... I did. It's not my best work, but I am tired and my mystery burn is still hurting, and my neck is acting up again.<br />
<br />
I am going to go to sleep now, because my time with Nan is over in the morning, and it's home to <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Sissy-B/310089035677832" target="_blank">Sissy B's</a>. Gotta pack and get ready for my move, and then my trip right after that.<br />
<br />
*BSWK*Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-81830555450625163572012-02-22T17:40:00.000-05:002012-02-22T17:40:35.037-05:00He's too young for you bitch.I have noticed a rash of the 'cougar.' Personally, this isn't something I would do, it's kinda icky to me... probably because I have a teenaged son. Nan agrees with me 110%. So, we've set up these guidelines for each other, keep in mind, we are in our early 30's. Feel free to live by our list... or add to it. <br />
<br />
If he never learned the art of blowing on a video game cartridge to make it work... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If his main mode of transportation is a skateboard... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he thinks Smashing Pumpkins is a prank played during the Halloween holiday season... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he has to google Gargamel's cat's name... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he doesn't "KNOW THIS MAAAN!"..... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he doesn't get mad at you for calling Transformers: 'Go Bots'.... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he watched GI Joe and thought that shit was a new idea.... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he doesn't know who Camel Joe is.... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he never pretended to smoke a candy cigarette -- WHEN THEY WERE CANDY CIGARETTES.... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he doesn't remember when Mtv played music... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
(For my Ohio girls) If he doesn't remember Sea World in Aurora... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he ever collected Pokemon, Yu-Gi-Oh, or Digimon... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he can't tell time on a clock that has hands.... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he thinks Garbage Pail Kids is a horrible news story from the inner city... he's too young for you bitch<br />
<br />
If he thinks ABC and BBD could be new STDs.... he's too young for you bitch.. (and get yourself to the clinic.)<br />
<br />
If he thinks Boys II Men is a euphemism for puberty.... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he ain't down wit OPP.... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he doesn't remember having to walk at least a block to his bus stop... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he only remembers the R Kelly that is dumb enough to get stuck in a closet and likes peeing on people, instead of the R Kelly who didn't see nothin wrong..... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he doesn't remember life before beanie babies... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If you have to explain to him that it's not a sex joke when you say "Where's the Beef?" .... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he thinks Slimer is a new sex move... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he never thought of himself as a Regulator... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he never wished he was a lil bit taller, wish he was a balla, or wish he had a rabbit in a hat with a bat... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he doesn't know that size matters because 'Now *THAT'S* a knife..."... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he thinks Stabbing Westward is a fighting move... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he thinks Johnny Cash wrote hurt.... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he thinks Candlebox is a decorative place to keep your extra candles.... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he doesn't know why 'you gotta keep 'em seperated!'... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he thinks Henry Rollins is only an actor... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
<br />
If he hasn't recycled 'It's Your Love,' and is a country boy.... he's too young for you bitch.<br />
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*BSWK*Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5593928037193490211.post-70959070646821781212012-02-20T02:13:00.000-05:002012-02-20T02:13:49.873-05:00Sit and The SlutSit<3~ <div>OMFG....I HAVE to talk to you!!!!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>???<br />
<br />
<div>Sit<3~ </div><div>You have to SWEAR ON EVERYTHING YOU WON'T EVER TELL ANYONE!!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>Yep<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>So I went to the ex's ex's house so we could hang out and the kids could see each other. I ended up drinking and we ended up making out!!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>lmfao. </div><div>WHEN??<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>Earlier.... Now I'm sitting here like, WTF!!! </div><div>I wasn't even that drunk<br />
</div><div>The Slut~</div><div>lmfao that's some funny shit<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>she was telling me she's wanted me for a long time<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>wow<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>she was all about putting on fb that we're in a relationship!! so that's when I was like....OK, time to go!!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>Shit.. fuck her and forget her LMFAO<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>lol<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>for real!<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>she wanted me to fuck her with her dildo but she couldn't find it!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>Shit... GO BACK AND FUCK HER! LET HER FUCK YOU! Then be all balla about it and be like ..V,<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>I'm on my period or I would!<br />
<br />
The Slut~</div><div>\m/ Rock the fuck out </div><div>Is she hot?<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>she's not bad<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>Then wait til you are done with shark week and go the fuck back lmfao<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>This is sooo some SSSS shit huh?! hahahaha!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>absofuckinlutely lol<br />
</div><div>Sit<3~ </div><div>lmao<br />
I was so gonna tell you to put it on there<br />
</div><div>The Slut~ </div><div>Oh no.. I am callin your ass out...<br />
</div><div>Sit<3~ </div><div>this is terrible!<br />
yay...glad like 4 people "remember" me! lol<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>lmfao<br />
shit is posted<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>reading it!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>7 people remember you!! plus one that commented<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>LMFAO!!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>lol<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>dude...seriously<br />
it was nuts<br />
she was all over my tits<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>lmfao<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>I just went with it and when she started with the relationship thing, I think that was like an instant buzz kill!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>I hear that honey I hear that!! </div><div>Bitches be TRIPPIN when they think they got you on lock<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>Right!!<br />
I got into it a little and was on her tittys too<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>size?<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>Large B/Small C<br />
they were kinda nice<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>on the smallish side tho. </div><div>Ha... bet you felt like "where's the tit?!" After touchin mine!! </div><div>LMFAO<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>And uhhh, ya...not sure why she thought that by just givin me a little nipple action I was gonna be on lock down!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>OH HELL NO!<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>Oh yeah...NOTHIN compares to yours!!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>YAY! That makes me happy... I like knowing my tits are the best you've handled. :D<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>Even though my feel was only through the shirt...but I'll take what I can get<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>Was she at least a good kisser??<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div> ....for now <img src="http://static.ak.fbcdn.net/images/blank.gif" /><br />
lol<br />
She actually wasn't bad<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>This pimp move has been brought to you by the letters H & Q<br />
what was her signature?<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>signature?<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>Yeah, remember we had that 'signature' talk about how everyone kisses different. What'd she do different? a biter?<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>I dunno...it was the first time in a long time that I'd kissed a girl....maybe it was the softness of it<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>So basically second base is all you got to?<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ ummmmm.........<br />
no<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>did you get down her pants?<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>....more<br />
<br />
The Slut~</div><div>DAS MAH GURL!<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>Got em off<br />
and went down on her<br />
AHHHHHH!!!!! OMFG!!!!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>\m/ Rock the fuck out Sit!! \m/<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>CANNOT BELIEVE I DID THAT!!!!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>I can... ::giggle::<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>lol<br />
Its nuts bc it had been a long time since I'd done that too and my last experience wasn't so great<br />
Actually wasn't bad this time!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>You had a bad experience givin face?!?<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>YES!<br />
UGH<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>HOW?!?<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>I vaguely remember it bc I was a little tipsy but I just remember it wasn't.....I dunno...nice?<br />
Like that chicks shit was....awkward<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>SMDH<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>I don't fucking know what word I'm looking for<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>Daymn. That sucks for her! lmfao<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>I just remember not liking it at all!!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>was she just not into it? Maybe that's what it is.... </div><div>Fuck... I adore giving face... to the right chick that is<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>she was into it<br />
I was givin face while the ex was bangin me from behind<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>That's the best way to do it... Jus sayin<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>well, duuuuhhhh!!<br />
lol<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>LMFAO<br />
Well.. I have done it without being banged out during too...<br />
I was just clarifying...<br />
lol<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>lmao!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>I'm just not good with the sharing thing.<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>ya...I don't like to share much either<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>YOU can touch me, and YOU can touch me... but don't even THINK about touchin each other.<br />
Then again... I am an attention whore.<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>ya, that works<br />
I think that was my issue when ex and did the 3some thing<br />
with other chicks<br />
I didn't want him touching them<br />
it happened of course<br />
but I was kinda...ugh<br />
when we had another guy it was cool bc they both was all about me and of course didn't touch each other!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>Yeah... I am too selfish... </div><div>DON'T YOU TOUCH HER!! SHE IS HERE FOR MY ENJOYMENT!! NOT YOURS!!! lmfao<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>Riiiight!!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>lmfao<br />
Hard to find someone who agrees with me<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>But this is why we get along so well!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>AMEN baby AMEN<br />
I am so proud of you<br />
Just get it get it baby! lol<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>Ima try<br />
For now though I'm just gonna sit back and see how this whole thing pans out<br />
Hell, she may not even remember it happened!<br />
Hoping though she doesn't freak out about it!!<br />
Hoping she's chill about it<br />
And she can become my side piece! lol<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>Do you think she will? She might... bitches be freaky when they are drunk and then you won't get your refund. lol<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>Dude....I'm totally stealing that "you could be my piece" graphic you made!!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>You could send it to her in a message. Just be all sly n shit about it. lol<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>Nice!!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>I know... I gots some game when I wanna. lmfao<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>I'm tryin!!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>I know!!! I'm so proud of you!! </div><div>Hey... maybe by the time I am ready to settle down with someone again... ALL my female friends will have some game. You will all be my Omega Bitches!! Eh... I am giving up hope for that... we all know I have that one friend who won't ever have game. lmfao<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>*You* settle down again?! lol<br />
Ya...I agree that you have that one friend who just DOESN'T get it!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>Maybe... </div><div>someday... </div><div>Maybe there's some amazing, sexy ass, fuckable, honest, loyal, smart enough to see me tryina pull my shit, and strong enough to STOP me from pullin my shit, true king out there that will snap me up and claim me </div><div>ROFPMSLMMFAO<br />
A girl can dream right?!<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>Good luck with that!!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>IKR<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>But honestly, I'm sure he's out there<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>Not thinkin he is baby... </div><div>They dress like kings, but they are really paupers.<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>He's out there<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>I just want someone who's going to be able to keep the fuck up. </div><div>(I was going to put with me at the end of that sentence... But I think keep the *fuck* up works too. lol)<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>Finding someone that can keep the fuck up with you will be the biggest challenge!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>I know. I can't help it-- I was made this way. So mind blowing amazing with the sex drive to boot. ROFLMAO<br />
<br />
Sit<3~ </div><div>Dude...you're like god's gift to dick!!<br />
<br />
The Slut~ </div><div>Damn... if I could only get them to realize it!! LMFAO</div></div><div><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Yes, this is an honest to goodness conversation between me and one of my closest friends. WE.ARE.SO.AWESOME.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">*BSWK*</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6