2012 In A Glitter Covered Nutshell

I have had a wonderful year and I have so much to be grateful for. 


We lost a close family member early in the year.  It was hard, it was heartbreaking, but by the end it was a blessing when the suffering came to an end.  We became closer as a family. 

I started training for a half marathon. I started in the Spring but, thanks to a muscle pull, ended up doing a lot of the heavy miles in the heart of summer.  I recovered from my injuries, and thanks to my trainers and my doctors and all the support I have at home, I survived.


I celebrated my first wedding anniversary with the love of my life.  Our original reasons for getting married were practical ones.  We had already built our life together and we are a family.  I didn't need a ring to know he loves me.  He makes that very clear every single day.  However, I find that we have grown even closer.  I didn't even think that was possible.  But its wonderful.  I wake up every morning knowing I have the most wonderful man in the world and I couldn't be happier.  Oh... and he is absolutely spectacular in bed.  I'm not saying its why I love him, but it sure doesn't hurt.  We have been together almost a decade now and still... fireworks.


This year I became a runner.  I finished my first half-marathon in November in my favorite place in the world - Disney World.  A night run was perfect for my pale sunburn prone ass, ending with an Food and Wine Festival after party at EPCOT with my wonderful husband and walking back to our room at the Boardwalk.  I <3 already="already" and="and" at="at" camera="camera" damned="damned" display="display" everyone="everyone" festival="festival" finisher="finisher" finishing="finishing" for="for" hand="hand" hollywood="hollywood" husband="husband" i="i" in="in" it="it" lights="lights" line="line" me.="me." me="me" medal.="medal." my="my" nbsp="nbsp" of="of" osborne="osborne" p="p" perfect="perfect" pretty="pretty" proud="proud" run="run" s="s" so="so" studios="studios" supportive.="supportive." the="the" there="there" through="through" too.="too." unbelievable.="unbelievable." up="up" waiting="waiting" was="was" weather="weather">
Christmas was magic, full of happily cheering kids.  We rocked the Mom and Dad of Awesomeness this year. 

And now this fantastic year is drawing to a close.  We are spending the night at home, after an unbelievable gourmet dinner we made together (my husband has taken up cooking as a hobby and OMG, yes, he is pretty much perfect) and even dessert.  I'm looking forward to that bottle of champagne and those New Year fireworks with my beloved.

Mental Notes

1.  Holy shit, Lindsey Lohan is still alive?!?!?

2.  I love Big Bang Theory.

3. I am addicted to Middle Eastern food.  Mixing those spices with the lower calorie lower fat ingredients makes my tummy and my waistline happy,

4. A plot to kill Justin Bieber?  Really?  Isn't easier to just wait for time to let the full "Leif Garrett" effect take hold?  They will need someone to host "Canada's Dumbest".

Dear Bearded Lady...

I was getting my nails done listening to a woman with a beard argue with the girl at the salon that it wasn't a "lot" of hair. This bitch looked like Gandalf, and she's giving them a hard time about it costing extra. Look we are mammals. Some chicks grow a beard. You can't control that. Some leave it be for religious reasons. Some cause they like having a beard. Some cause they are too lazy to take care of it.
But if you are at the salon asking you aren't keeping your qualifier for the ZZ Top look a like contest. You didn't keep up with your grooming. This is not the fault of the salon staff.  So shut the fuck up Sasquatch, you're paying double.
The crap salon workers deal with is unreal.

I think I am the only person on Earth that needs a safe word to get out of non-consensual physics lessons.

It doesn't work.

Now I know what Maxwell's Demon is.

What I've Learned Today

The meaning of:

A cold day in Hell

Over my dead body


Regret

Crossroads

Sometimes it sucks being able to deduce the most likely end result of something. As I predicted my moments of triumph got over shadowed by a drama queen. That moment has passed forever though I can't get it back so I have to look forward. The problem is something rare for me I'm not sure how to proceed. I'm not sure I can be okay again this time. Not because I lost my victory to someone else's need for attention, I knew that was going to happen. But because the drama took such an extreme route this time I'm so off course I feel lost.

Half Crazy

13.1 miles

So Much For Plan A

It was a beautiful night and I was supposed to run 14 miles.  I ended up only running 10 because I felt my calf start to go.  So I limped home and iced up.

Just going to have to heal and try again.  It looks like this calf is always going to be trouble.

Dangerous Knowledge

I learned something very dangerous this weekend.

How to download books from the library to my Nook and iPad.

In other news... I may never been seen nor heard from again.  Don't worry, I'm not dead.  Unless I wander into traffic while reading or something.

Fanatic Fan Girl

I love fanatics.  These people are an endless font of entertainment.

So here are a few of my favorite fanatical types.

Political Conspirators.  The birthers, the truthers.  These people are fantastic.  People who look to Orly Tates and Donald Trump and think they sound credible.  Victoria Jackson is an ideal example.  Holy crap is that chick crazy.  She is a perfect storm of crazy, racist, stupid and angry.  I could not stand her on as a comedic actress, but as a crazy woman on the street babbling into her iphone, I cannot get enough of the funny.

Religious Nutzoids.  I am not talking people of faith. I am fine with those.  I am talking the Fred Phelps type people who are convinced that an all powerful deity just happens to have ALL the same prejudices and fears that you do.  Sure.  Seems legit.  God makes gays, and hates gays.  Your magic invisible friend in the sky is better than anyone else's invisible friend in the sky because your invisible friend in the sky is real but the idea of a different invisible friend in the sky is silly?

People that are super duper into how important imaginary shit is.  Gamers are a good example.  But at least in some way, that's a hobby.  Music fanatics that dedicate all their time to being anti whatever is popular at the moment.  Who think they are better people for hating the top 40 with a disproportionate fashion.  But Goreans are the best example of this.  People that dedicate years of their life to arguing over what irrelevant crap makes them the most "real" imaginary thing.  Endlessly entertaining.

I love me some fanatics.

Being election season, I get an endless stream of my favorite show - batshit crazy goes frothing at the mouth angry. 

Mental Notes

1. I still wanna blow Bill Clinton. He seems like he'd be fun to fuck.
2. Paper is trying to kill me one small cut at a time.
3.  Was it Sweden? Its a moose.
4. I love fanatics.

Religiosity

So yesterday first post i see was a still shot from what seems to be a snuff film about Jesus claiming that Jim Cavezzial (however the hell that's spelled) died for me. I'd like to state, for the record, i was in no way the direct or proximate cause of the death of the guy from People of Interest.
This morning it was a pretty nasty anti-Muslim bit of religious bigotry aimed at a presidential candidate. Facepalm.
I'm an atheist. No dog in this fight. But from an outside perspective, all ya'll arguing about who's imaginary friend is better, and killing for it, are REALLY annoying.

Genuine Natural Order

I tend to approach things in a logical manner. Master has been an influence, as was my upbringing,, but i am generally not an overwhelmingly emotional person. So the concept of a natural order based lifestyle appealed to me.  Follow ones natural inclination. This made sense.
The Gorean lifestyle is touted as a natural order approach. Unfortunately, it falls far short of this standard in that it fails to account for reality in several fundamental areas.  So that didn't work out.  Pointless pomp and circumstance doesn't work well on me. Behaving in a manner clearly contrary to reality (pretending some idiot I'm actually superior to is somehow "better" than I based on nothing more than social expectation) also has an overall negative effect. I can't take those people seriously.
However, i do still feel a natural order approach to a relationship is most effective for me. By that i mean ACTUAL natural order, the survival of the fittest type natural evolution of interpersonal dynamic type.

Its actually a pretty simple concept.  You start off with me as presumed equals.  Your behavior thereafter will move you up or down the ladder. 

Bad Vibrations

I know i'm in the minority here, but i hate vibrators.  I have no gag reflex anymore (practice made perfect). I got a popcorn kernel off the back of my tonsil this weekend.  But bring a vibrator within a foot of my clit and i will spew red, white and blue.  Shudder. 
Maybe i'm too sensitive. I orgasm at sometimes inappropriate and inconvenient times.  I'll take that over numbing my clit with a little jackhammer any day, hands down.  The only thing i want to vibrate is my recliner. Back numb = good, clit numb = very bad.

Im having a strange morning...

Some Stuff I Watched and Some Stuff That Hurt

I watched the season finale of Doctor Who last night.  Because I was not out doing my long run.  (Damned rain.)  I see a lot of people upset about this ending.  I probably would have been, if I had not been so upset the first two times they basically ended the relationship with his companions in almost exactly the same way.  Rose Tyler? Alternate universe, can't see her again.  Donna Nobel?  Altered brain, can't see her again.  Amelia Pond/Rory Williams?  Altered timeline, can't see them again. 

Don't get me wrong, I like Moffet's Doctor series and my husband and I are enjoying Sherlock as well, but the impact is a bit dulled for me by how incredibly formulaic the end of the Doctor/Companion relationships are.  Martha Jones was the singular exception to this formula, and I enjoyed the break in monotony. 

So I didn't get my run in at night, and headed to the gym to hop on the treadmill.  I have come to the conclusion that I hate the treadmill.  It makes me feel like a gerbil.  So I came home and faced the heat rather than face the gerbilness.  And gave myself heat stroke.  And a sunburn.  Because sometimes I am a full on flat out stubborn dumbass.  I am the standard level of sore I would expect but I am still loopy from the heat.  And its been about 8 hours.  So that's a mistake I won't be making again.  And the chances of me doing a daytime race just dropped by a huge amount.

So That Happened...

They killed my favorite character on one of my favorite shows. By favorite character, I mean guy I would totally do. Hmmm big long haired biker guy with a beard. 

Seems I have a type.

Yes, I fantasize about my husband.  He gives me the hots.  Still, after decades.  

I'm not happy when the drool worthy get offed though.  

I love my husband

He is awesome.
That is all.

When Did Stupid Become Ok?

Do you remember the good old days when being ignorant was not something you bragged about?
Those days are gone.
More and more people proudly declare their ignorance. A major political party has been critical of the use of facts. Some people are almost burning at the torch against science.  History is often a lost cause. Grammar is following closely behind. We will soon have more people that are obese than aren't because people know nothing about their own health and figure declaring they're just as healthy as someone who isn't obese will magically make that BS true. Kids are taught to test, not to think.
Go ahead, walk around a and ask a dozen people how to use a piece of equipment they use to do their job daily if you don't believe me. Ask 12 people using Word all day how to create a macro or install print drivers if you don't believe me.
We're doomed. The American culture will die fat and stupid with a jammed printer and we deserve it.
Two words -legitimate rape. That guy is one of our leaders. With no idea how human procreation works.

Because my BFF is so very, very awesome.

Happy Swing a Chicken Over Your Head Day

Its a thing.
Its also Mists of Panderia release day.  Yeah, I reactivated my account.

The Lulz

I've received this type of message a few times and it always makes me giggle.  Messages on a fetish site where someone informs me that they notice that i am owned and aren't going to speak to me because they respect that and don't want to come between me and my Master.

Cute.

I have good news! You do not need to worry you will come between me and my Master.  That is not ever going to happen.  I love and adore him more than words can express and, believe it or not, the fact that some random dude on the internet wants to fuck me isn't going to change that.  Hard to believe, I know.

As much as i appreciate out of the blue messages from total strangers, who I was previously unaware of and unconcerned with the very existence of, informing me that they will not be contacting me, the much easier and faster route to this goal would simply be not messaging me at all in the first place.  If I didn't message you, you don't actually need to take any time at all to tell me I won't be hearing from you.  I don't care. Really.  Don't let that "Is Daughtry just biding her time in life waiting with bated breath for a message from me?" fear keep you up at night.  I'm good. 

If for some reason I do drop you a note, that note will contain the entire sentiment I wish to express.  Its pretty rare for me to do this via private message on fetish sites because I only tend to frequent them for the publicly visible bits, and I will just post there.  But if it does happen, there isn't a secret agenda.  I'm not trying to be subtle. Whatever I said... exactly what I meant.  And that's it.  Telling you "Hey, the movie you are trying to think of was Mannequin 2." is not subtext for I want your cock.  (It may be subtext for "Your taste in movies is appalling.") 

The fact that I say/do/post/mention something that makes you want to fuck me does not make that feeling mutual.  Unless you're my husband.  He is the sum total of who I actually WANT to fuck.

OK, America, I Give Up

I just saw a picture of someone who had tattooed a saying from 50 Shades of Grey on their chest.  I've also seen a bunch of Twilight tattoos.

Oh, and on any given day people are more interested in white trash reality TV than our national election process.  People are more likely to recognize a Kardashian than their Congressman,

Which might be why so many think a Vice Presidential candidate who thinks forced birth is ok espousing prayer in school.

That's it.  I give up hope. We're too far gone. 

On the upside, my knowledge of stringed instruments will allow me to play the fiddle while New Rome burns. 

Butt Cramp!

I had a long run yesterday. The usual spot in my back hurts. And my ass. Which is basically my left IT Band is being a bitch. Well, they're pretty tight on both sides, despite all the extra stretches and breaking down the scar tissue (which HURTS).

Leading to butt cramps.
 

50 Shades of Clue By Four

Well, I finally finished reading those 50 Shades books. The fact that these books take up three spots on the New York Times Top 10 is horrifyingly depressing. 

How the hell is this shit considered romance?  Crazy bitch meets dangerous psycho.  Gee that's romantic.

You have this 22 year old virgin chick.  She is a virgin because, despite the fact that she is smoking hot and totally sane, for some reason no guy has ever interested her. Yeah, sure, that happens. In the real world we usually call those women lesbians. But its just another example of the rather ridiculous idea that cunt is like a car.  Once you drive it off the lot it looses value.  Where the fuck does this myth come from in the first place, and why do we keep perpetuating it?

Then there is her stalker.  He has to be a billionaire. Because much like women are worthless without a hymen, there is no reason to fall in love with a man who isn't right?  And the fact that a guy starts out stalking you, turns out to want you because he secretly wants to beat and fuck his own mother, and ends up being so totally fucked in the head that he is constantly almost getting you killed and falling into a non-functional state of batshit crazy is perfectly acceptable in a relationship if the guy is a gazillionaire. And hot.

Seriously, this series is some of the most shallow pandering shit I have ever read.  And I read the Gor series.

Its also not about BDSM relationships.  In case you missed it... the female lead suppresses that part of the male lead's sexuality because loving her "cures" him of that kinky sickness. It cracks me up when people talk about this series as BDSM romance.  Its neither romantic nor, before the end of the first book, BDSM. 

These books are not about romance.  They are about destructive co-dependence. If that makes you all wet, you may want to seriously consider what the fuck is wrong with you.  Are you so shallow that you're really into rich/pretty even if he's also crazy/dangerous, or are you mistaking a co-dependent stalker for romance? In either case, if  the freak show contained in the pages of 50 Shades sounds better to you than what you have right now... you have my pity. 

Time Goes By

I'm not a kid anymore.  Frankly, i haven't been for a really long time.  But I have reached a point now where my contemporaries are more likely to get tested for high cholesterol than pregnancy. (Given yesterday's newes report about the huge leap in gene mutations in sperm between 20 and 30 and the resulting increase in autism that's for the best. Conception after 35 is more likely to go horribly wrong than right it seems.)

And now there is the heart attack thing. I've known a few people who have had a scare or actually had a heart attack lately. So I'm going to talk to my doctor.  Not that I'm worried about my heart.  My diet and exercise are great and I quit smoking years ago. I think i need an endochronologist.  Both my doctor and trainer are telling me i should be dropping weight much faster, given my diet and excercise.  My trainer just kicked up my exercise and dropped me to 1200 calories a day. But there seems to be a problem, so I need to at least look into it.

Why Todd Akin is a Huge Douche, Part 2

When last we heard that sound of air being squeezed out of a douche bag that is Todd Akin speaking, he was espousing the ridiculously ill informed idea that "legitimate" rape does not result in pregnancy.  He has now followed up that huge steaming pile of stupid with his "apology" in which he makes clear that he used the wrong words.  Oh... and acknowledges his flat Earth level of science fail.

But the sentiment... he means that part.  Women should be forced, against their will, to bear the child of their rapist.  Well gee, thank you for that 'the bitch was asking for it by having a uterus' apology. 

I have been staring at my TV for the last several minutes wishing that I was the girl from Firestarter just for a minute.  Akin's hair hasn't burst into flames just yet, so I am going to have to assume that despite all my wishing that I have not yet developed telekenisis.

Damn.

This is where I would normally wish the horrible ironic thing happened to the horrible person in question.  But no...  I don't wish Akin would get raped.  (Because while I am a horrible person I am not quite THAT horrible.)  Rape is bad.  All the time.

Nope... I wish Akin has to be Akin.  Forever. I hope his name becomes synonymous with being a totally awful asshat and I hope no women ever touches him ever again. I hope he dies alone, and not only without respect but as one of the most actively disrespected people in history.  But I hope that day comes a long long time from now so that oozing sore of a subhuman shit bag suffers a whole bunch first.

The War on Women and the No Pussy War of Attrition

I have this life rule about not fucking Republicans. See, I love my cunt. Its one of my favorite things. And I have no intention of turning it over to some asshat with no clue what to do with it. Its the same reason I wouldn't let a blind man drive my car.

An illustration of why I have this life rule would be Todd Akin and his ilk.  The thing is, this sort of rampant stupid is pretty common among men with no respect for the female body. They have zero idea how the female body operates because women are on par with the sock they jerk off in for these guys. Who cares how it works, its just there for me to drop a load in.

When you are an ignorant asshole, you come up with insane theories about what is "legitimate rape" and assign mysterious baseless pregnancy repelling super powers to the vagina. Because you never learned how a vagina works.

And if you don't know how a vagina works - you are bad in bed.

There is a war on women right now. And among the many ways we women need to fight back is a No Pussy War of Attrition.  If a man does not have working knowledge of how a vagina operates, keep him away from yours. Stop fucking these guys.

Cut them off. Completely.

I would say Fuck You, Todd Akin but no - I hope no woman ever fucks you ever again. 

Personal Responsibility Is My Kink, And My Kink Is Unwelcome In The "BDSM Community"

I have a real girl on for personal responsibility.  Call it a kink.

I am a grown up.  I am mentally stable.  I am happy.  I do not consider the BDSM bits of my life to be my entire life.  I don't have self esteem issues.  Most importantly, I can take responsibility for my choices, and live with the consequences of those choices. 

This seems a bit out of the norm for the "BDSM community" that I have experienced.  Who knows, it may have completely changed in the years since I started avoiding the local community.  Somehow, given the general behavior of the population, I doubt it.  And someone pointing out "Maybe you should try dropping the drama and grow the fuck up.  That might be a solution to your never ending stream of problems" isn't generally welcome. 

And, for me, the never ending drama isn't welcome.  So really, I can't explain how much I do not miss it. 

Which is why I find it funny when people tell me that the fact that I am in a M/s relationship without being part of the "community" means that I am in mortal danger. Apparently, without showing up monthly at some rat trap restaurant to sit around making small talk with people with whom I have a single thing in common so they can monitor my most intimately personal relationship for "red flags", my Master will without doubt immediately start the round of amputations and cannibalism and multi-state crime spree that all "no limits" slaves have. 

And don't get me started on the whole "no limits" thing.  Yep... I don't have a list of things I forbid my Master to do.  I'm wacky like that.  That is where it stops though. I have no limits with HIM. Anyone else might lose a hand if they touch me without my ok. I'm wacky like that too.

Chik-Fil-A, Fetlife and Why I Don't Pay People Who Suck

You know the whole homophobic chicken thing that has recently been huge in the news?  Its not a new development.  I stopped going to Chik-Fil-A almost a decade ago, when I first found out about their anti-gay funding.  (See my previous post on the subject 4/5/11 - Dominos pizza can also blow me.)

So now there is a big blowup about how Fetlife is poorly run and protects rapists. Ummmm DUH! There is reason that, despite the fact that I purchase pretty much evey app I run across, entire albums of music because I like one song, and an entire series of books I don't even LIKE because I read one and have to see it through to the end (in other words I waste butt loads of money regularly), I have chosen not to voluntarily pay for a website I use rather frequently. 

Look, i am the first one to say if you have a website, run it how you like. How the owner of Fetlife would LIKE to run his business is apparently to be a safe haven for pedophiles, animal abusers and rapists.  However, as he likes money a lot more (and hey, who doesn't) he has to create the appearance of bowing to the minimal standards forced upon him by the credit card companies. The owner posted an entire apology to the pedophiles, animal abusers and rapists when his greed forced him to stop being their easy safe haven. Cause how he would LIKE to run his business is to be their safe haven, but he likes money more.

But Fetlife can still get the cash and passively support pedophiles, animal abusers and rapists by creating a TOU that says you can't promote those things on the website (appease the credit card companies) and then simply do a horrifically bad piss poor lazy sad sack job of enforcing the policy it didn't really want to have in the first place (still got your back, pedophiles, animal abusers and rapists).

So nope, for all the huge amounts of expendable income i waste on total crap in an average week, I won't be wasting any on supporting Fetlife. I won't stop using it,though.  I guess the moral thing to do would be to drop off the site all together.  But, while I do have morals, I am also a cunt. So I will suck up your resources for free, Fetlife.  I will NOT support Fetlife, nor will I buy from its advertisers. I will make Fetlife spend every dime I can on what I can get for free and, hell, I will even encourage others to be Fetlife leeches.  And I don't feel bad about taking advantage of Fetlife even a little. Hell, if I could walk into Chik-Fil-A and wander out with a free chicken sandwich, thereby chipping away even a little at their bottom line, I would.  I would then toss that shit straight in the trash because I don't eat deep friend bags of cardiovascular death, thanks.

UnBirthday Spankings

Its not my birthday. I get the spankings anyway.

There is nothing better than a quiet day at home, tied up and fucked. I have been with my Master for over eight years now, and he still makes me into a happy little puddle of sexed out bliss.  And apparently, I do the same for him.

My Life Is Kinda Awesome

So reading this badly written romance novel has made me realize a few things. I read romance novels when I was in my 20s because I dreamed of finding love like that.(I was unhappily married.) That isn't missing for me anymore. I am romance novel in love with my husband. One of the reasons these novels make me laugh is because I remember how drama trauma filled the early days in a collar were. Its been a very long time since then, but I remember it. And I don't miss it, not even a little bit. I'm happier every day. My collar is comfortably broken in like my favorite jeans.

I was in about mile 3 yesterday thinking how wonderfully supportive my husband and best friend are and, because they believe in me, I know I can do this. Being diagnosed and knowing that I will likely never have another day totally without pain for the rest of my life sucked. A lot. But knowing that my husband and friends and family will be there for me no matter what made it possible to take. It also made it possible for me to reach for something that won't be easy but will help.

It still isn't easy.  Some days are really hard. I stick to my general "suck it up, Buttercup" attitude in those moments. Feeling sorry for myself won't make the pain any less, so why bother? It is what it is, I learn to cope. And I keep running and getting stronger.

50 Shades of Headdesk

A well meaning vanilla friend gave me that book. Because it was a best seller. And apparently this is the exception when it comes to inappropriate porn sharing. Which seems unfair... Since it's bad porn.

I stopped reading romance novels about a decade ago. I tried. I really did. But this book is awful. Like makes me long to go get the Gor novels out of storage for better character development bad.

Maybe this is taboo and exciting if you haven't been in a collar for the better part of the decade. But since i haz the kinky, the porn parts, thus far, are yawn worthy tame compared to my average Tuesday roll in the hay, let alone full out playtime.

Which leaves me confronted by the character development. This book reads like what it is... Lame fan fiction. Only it's lame fan fiction based on a lame series. I'm longing for a break of hot Kirk on Spock action, just to break the "Oh my..." monotony. Hell, i'm longing for a spork in the eye, just make it stop!

First of all, the author named the main characters "Steele" & "Grey".  Sigh. Fuck you, reader, she's going full out TV weatherman name. Take it, bitches!!!

So we have our floormat. Not in the very submissive slave way. I'm a big fan of that way. Anastasia is a floormat in the lays there, flat, and once you've wiped your feet has no real use kind of way. You could substitute a mop with a pair of wax lips jammed in the bristles for her and not miss a beat.

Now let's just say I've sucked a cock or two in my day. I have a secret. If a woman tells you she's a virgin who's never done this before, then proceeds to gobble your knob like Linda Lovelace on X, and you believe it, tip that girl well. Not because she is the worlds only first time deepthroat artist, but because she just sold you the most unbelievable lie in modern history.

And then there's Christian Grey. Haven't we had enough of the gonna make that Dom who is clearly saying he just wants to fuck me love me drama in real life? Is a three novel fictional set really necessary? I can give you the email addresses of a few dozen girls that will show you just how endlessly fascinating these desperate codependent chicks really are.

I'll let you borrow the spork. You'll need it.

This guys a douche. I'm about halfway through this literary vomit bag and just not getting the great grandiose romance here. Is the idea of a guy that's really into you that novel a concept that it hypnotizes women into mindless fandom? Read Gone with the Wind ladies. Admittedly, less cervical pounding, but Rhett is really into Scarlett. And there is the added bonus of it not being a few hundred pages of IQ drag factor. Then rent a porn. All the cunt pounding, and pretty similar dialog. Baby.

If You Pulled It Out Of Your Ass, Keep It To Yourself...

This is pretty much a good standard in life. It covers opinions.  See, if you have no knowledge of or experience with something, your opinion on how to successfully accomplish it is completely useless. So STFU.

Never been in a collar? STFU. I don't need advice on how to be a good slave. Reading a bad fan fiction book and hopping online for 10 minutes does not a pedigree make.

Been in a collar a dozen times because you keep failing at it over and over again?  STUF, you have no advice on how to be a good slave, just on how to be a total failure. Oh, STUF and punch yourself as hard as you can in the face. Because you're twice as annoying as the "I just read Fifty Shades of Grey/Gor novels and know everything there is to know about slavery" people.  At least they're just clueless.  You velcro twats KNOW you don't know what you're doing, you KNOW you're not good at this, its a proven fact.  So when you ramble on and on and on about it, you KNOW you're full of shit.  So punch yourself as hard as you can in the face.  And STFU... Twice.

Oh and if you're vast experience consists of all the years you spent online in mIRC and on CM and FL, while failing in real life... you people make me long for the velcro people. I have this secret dream that somewhere out there, there really are alien ships, and those aliens are harvesting worthless, and they monitor our computer transmissions looking for people talking about what they would really do if if Gor were real and they were transported there, just so they can transport those people to said environment and watch those fat old fucks die... painfully.  Its just a dream, I know. Do you know why I know this?  Because Gor isn't real you socially retarded piles of goo.  Ok, maybe that dream isn't so secret. Fuck, you people are worthless.

The gene pool needs some bleach.

Its a Mass Murder, Not a Fucking Fashion Show

I leave Headline News and CNN running in the background most of the day. So I get the extraordinary pleasure of listening to the 24 hour news cycle wrap around itself until it chokes.

Do you think Morrow would have spent half the day discussing why a dye job was a dead give away that a guy who shot 70 people and boobie trapped his apartment is nuts?

I'm sorry... shooting 70 people and boobie trapping his apartment didn't accomplish that?   A bottle of Manic Panic did?

Epic reporting fail.

Why Settle For A Total Douche Canoe?

I recently saw a woman say, and several other women agree, that when a disability isn't visible on the surface, its expected that your significant other forget about it. I don't get it. I don't think i want to really. I consider the closeness between my husband and i, and the fact that he does pay attention to things about me, and finds me important enough to remember those things, an essential foundation for our life together. I can't wrap my mind around the idea that the person i am most intimate with not considering me important enough to remember something like that.

No, you don't have to settle. Not EVERYONE forgets essential things about the person they're most intimate with. Why give up and settle for whatever schmuck comes along?

Once again the bdsm community at large gives me reason to love my husband just that much more.

Other Changes

As I ran tonight, looking down at the pavement and listening to my running playlist on Spotify, I looked down at the pavement and realized there was something that was so common when I ran the streets as a child that you don't see anymore.  Kids today will never see (and would not recognize if they did) the sight of the unwound acetate of a cassette tape broken on the ground.

Not that it is better, or worse, just different.

Cha...cha...cha....changes

When Master and I initially started spending a lot of time together, I started cooking for him. I remember one experiment - meatloaf with hard boiled eggs in the middle.  I never made it that way again, with mashed potatoes made with cream cheese in addition to the heavy cream.  Yeah... no great mystery why I once weighed almost 300 pounds, huh?  There was a lot of alfredo sauce in our diet.  And butter, cheese, insane amounts of carbs.  Obviously I don't cook that way anymore. 

Dinner tonight was an experiment. Grilled tilapia, roasted radishes and carrots and whole wheat pasta with roasted garlic.  I was shocked.  I had never used the Foreman grill for tilapia before.  Brush on some olive oil and lemon pepper and it was absolutely perfect.  It was supposed to be fresh made pasta, but that part of the experiment did not come out properly.  So I went with some whole wheat spaghetti, which worked just fine with the roasted garlic olive oil.  (I love my garlic roaster.) I was pleasantly surprised by how tender and sweet the roasting made the radishes.

Now I have to shift my thinking once again.  Not just to weight loss but to muscle building.  Changes are not always easy. But if you are the same person at 40 that you were at 20, doing the same things the same way, you're a corpse. I love my changes.

Just because.

Cause there is a Walking Dead Marathon this weekend.
And because unlike Jell-o, there actually IS always room for Alien Sex Fiend.

Holy Hair, Batman!

I have long hair. Like strangers pet me long hair. And with working out 4 -6 days a week in the Florida summer, that means its wet and down more lately. Which has led to a few odd moments. My favorite was when a man walked up behind me in the gym and pulled my hair.

For some reason men feel comfortable doing this. I don't know if it is because its unusual or they have an almost schoolboy inability to resist, but i get petted by total strangers solely because my hair is long.

Funny.

I think I can...

70% humidity, felt like over 90 degrees at 9:00 p.m. and I still ran a 5k today.

How Come If I Can Fuck a Baseball Bat, Six Inches Hurts?

Its like i reset to virgin. Its kind of annoying.
See i've learned a certain appreciation for oversized as unusual toys. (My toolbox makes people wince.) Beyond a free freaky big insertables, there have been bottles, cans, rubber fists (real ones too but i don't keep those in my closet) and i even have my own baseball bat.
So why is it if i go without for just a couple days even my smallest dildo feels likei have a tree trunk in me?
Its hurts like the first time over and over. I'm pretty sure I'm not a vampire. I shouldn't be regenerating.

Seriously, No Power In The Verse Can Stop Me

Discipline is not always a matter of sexuality. 

I reached this really frustrating plateau. I stopped losing weight and then it slowly started to tick back up and up.  Between the chronic pain condition and the hormonal issues, I felt like I was swimming upstream with just Weight Watchers alone.  So we hired me a personal trainer and I started jogging.  One would think the pounds would start falling off.  But the increased activity had me carb craving and I was not sufficiently controlling that.

So a few changes were put in place.  Cut down the carbs, reshuffled how I used my points/calories, increased the anti-oxidants, kicked up the run pace a bit (though that was a matter of my muscle tear healing more than anything else) and lost over 6 pounds in a week.


 Back in the saddle again.

Zombie Apocalypse vs. Alien Invasion

If I had to pick the end of the world scenario I would prefer I would have to say I would prefer to be stuck in a zombie apocalypse.  This came about as a result of watching both Walking Dead and Falling Skies.  I would certainly prefer an end of the world scenario in which the thing attempting to kill me was mindless to one that had superior technology and possessed the ability to strategize.

In either scenario one cannot underestimate the value of skateboards.  It allows scouts to move faster and further and to transport any heavier supplies they may come across. And they told me those misspent parts of my youth would never do me any good. 

Rule 1 - Cardio.

Why can they bring back Knight Rider but not Firefly?

Life Rocks

Today I came home from getting my nails done to find homemade bread and blackberry jam.  Drool. I will have to run extra hard to burn it off but it is SO worth it.

Attention Ladies

Why is it that when a man makes a very specific statement or answers a question with a very specific statement, so many women try to figure out what he "really" means/thinks/wants.  I can't tell you how many times I have been subjected to this analysis.

Here's a thought.

He meant what he said. If he said he isn't thinking anything, he probably isn't.  If he said he is thinking a thing, that's what he thinks.

If you're the kind of female I am, and this question makes you insane, from now on when another woman asks you what you think a man really thinks/means, just punch her in the head until she shuts up.

What are you seeking?

Its a question you get a lot on kinky websites.
Not "What are you looking for?", not "What are you into?"... But that ultra pretentious "What are you seeking?"  The funny thing is that most of the people that ask in this seemingly "high protocol" or formalized fashion have clearly not taken the few seconds it would take to ascertain from the profile they just messaged that i'm owned. As in not single. As in not "seeking", but following. Owned and collared and not up to me.
One would think asking what i'm seeking is respectful. However, in my case, when i'm clear and upfront about my status, how is disregarding that completely anything but disrespectful?
And they're always shocked when my response isn't "polite".

What's Up with the Nazis?

As if I needed another reason to stop frequenting fetish websites...  I keep stumbling across nazi shit on one.  I feel like Indiana Jones.  "Nazis.  I hate these guys." 

I am half German and part Gypsy.  My great grandparents and grandparents lived in the midwest USA by the 1940s.  So no, I don't have relatives I knew that were involved.

I hate nazis because they are nazis and they suck.

Running Related Cunt Injuries

My time this morning sucked! Partly i wasn't really motivated. Partly i didn't use my brace. Partly it was oppressively hot and humid. Also, i shaved yesterday and since i shave everything, it caused this sort of insane itching. The first thing i did when i got in the door was pull my running pants down. But, since i hadn't taken of my shoes, this led to a strange shuffling trip thorough my kitchen.
I seem to be at least part vampire. I normally run at night. I sunburn at the speed of light.  Like an idiot, i went out without sunblock. I won't be running during the day again.

I do not buy gold.

I'm not for rent, sale or lease.

I do not have space available.

I am not open.

I do not do palm readings.

I do not have 2 4 1 drink specials.

I do not offer golf lessons.

I'm not accepting new campers.

I will not wash and wax your car for $14.

I do not have an ATM.

I have not moved to a new location and I'm not inviting you to join me there.

I do not have bingo on Wednesday.

I still don't sell gold.

I don't give the first month free.

I am not my commute.

Seriously?

Take a character that is very popular on a show for her attitude and make her into a mindless zombie eating machine?  Brilliant idea.

Its a lie you know...

The bit where it says daughtry indigo powered by Blogger.  daughtry indigo is powered by massive amounts of caffine and a strangely realistic sense of hope a lot of people do not seem to understand.

I am more comfortable facing reality than I am trying to force myself to successfully play make-believe on a consistent basis. Its why I am an atheist.  Its also why I don't use the label "Gorean"(same concept, different dogmatic cult).  Its why I am perfectly comfortable viewing myself as middle aged.

Which is why I find the sudden rash of messages asking me about "breeding" totally confusing.  Ok lets skip the part where I am married and my husband might have a little something to say about me getting knocked up by random internet strangers.  We can also skip the part where I don't do unprotected sex outside of a fluid bonded relationship with someone I know has been tested.  Or the part where I have had surgery that eliminates the option.  Let's go to the bit where I am a little long in the tooth to be getting pregnant.  Do these people have any idea how much greater the chances of catostrophic birth defects are for women over 35 years old? 

So Game of Thrones comes to a season end and TrueBlood returns. I love this show. It has completely departed from the books, I still love this show.

Nothing In The Verse Can Stop Me...

I have had my first post muscle tear training session (ouch by the way) and my first real 30 minute run (well, more walk/jog/limp). I survived. I am a limping pile of sore muscles like it was my first workout ever, but I did it without ripping anything new.

I am choosing to ignore the well meaning but misplaced advice to quit or revert to laziness. I am not looking for a way out, or a way to be ok with quitting. I intend to reach my goal. Some days are easier than others. It is kind of annoying though. I get the "quits" when I say nothing. Heaven help me if I mention I am tired or sore or something hurts. (Which I will basically simply stop doing. People wonder why I don't talk much anymore.)

There are people who run full marathons after they lose a limb. I tore a muscle. I won't be weak forever. Unless I keep sitting on my fat ass thinking up excuse after excuse. Or using the ones people are all to happy to give me.

On the other side of the coin - my husband, who set up the ice cold water and warm bath I came home to following my run last night is the best man ever in the entire history of the world.

New Zombie Apocalypse Plan

I live close enough to Miami (Ground Zero) for zombies to be a concern. I don't want my face eaten. So like any responsible person, i have a zombie apocalypse plan. 

Admittedly, a lot of this involves the ability to out run my husband. Marriage can be defined as loving someone enough to want them around close enough and often enough to be likely to be there in the event you need zombie bait. Ok sure, there's the love, the trust, the great sex. But that zombie bait thing, that's important.

So i have my bait... Ummmm husband... There to protect me. Step one.

Originally a group of us were going to meet up at Home Depot. I'm re-thinking this plan. Mostly because my best friend had moved to an island, on a military base. Isolatable. Well armed. This seems like a good idea.

Until i watch the Romero films again. Islands don't go well.

Ok, well, there's the prison idea ala Walking Dead.  (If you've only seen the AMC show - read the books.) But you have to survive the initial riots. No.

Boat? Haven't read World War Z have you? Hell no!

Bomb shelter? Maybe. We're short on them in South Florida.

I haven't worked out all out yet but given the headlines I'd better.

OK so that happened... and mental notes

So things are getting back to normal post mega-nasty muscle tear during a training session. I can walk again.  I am going to try running again next week.  I tried this week. Not so much.  I still have plenty of time to train for my goal, though, so it shouldn't be an issue.  My trainer was able to start me working again this week on everything except the muscle group I tore.   

The original Friday the 13th has Kevin Bacon in it. How did I not remember that?

Good News/Bad News

The good news is I have started training to run a half marathon.  The training is slightly different than what I was doing to train for a 5k.  My endurance needs work, but I have six months.   This is a lifelong dream for me, one I never thought I would be able to realize.  But there is no reason I can't be the "sort of person who can run a marathon".  I can be.  I am. 

The bad news is I have gotten a medical diagnosis I am not too crazy about.  Lifelong, incurable, painful.  Pretty much the three things one does not want in a pain condition.  But there are things I can do to help.  (Things that do not involve drugs.  I am trying physical non-drug therapy first.)

I am also starting personal training.  This isn't for the marathon - that is a different sort of training.  But my weight loss has plateaued and I need something different to tighten up and push forward.

In short - I am going to be busy and in pain.  Status quo.

Another Day, Another Desecration

Days. I've spent days dripping wet and in sexual overdrive. I'm fresh out of no and have an overflowing cup of yes please.

Id say I'm out of control but that would be false.

Its just not my own being exercised.

You never know how far down the rabbit hole you can go until you're following blindly with a throbbing clit and cum drenched thighs.

Fuck, I'm even waxing poetic now!

Insatiable

I cycle through these periods of sexual insatiability.  These "hungry" times are growing more frequent.  There is a certain peace to it.  The relentless drive tends to push aside other forms of stress.  It also greatly increases my pliability.

Things About Which I Do Not Give A Fuck

Anything that Casey Anthony does or says. Don't care.

Demi and Ashton's marriage.  Katy and Russell's marriage.  Maria and Arnold's marriage. I'm not her, or him, or one of their kids. Not giving a fuck. Can we move onto the weather now please?

A label on popcorn informing me that it is a whole grain food.  No shit.  They should use this packaging as IQ test.  If someone exhibits surprise at this information - shoot them in the head before they breed.

Back to Normal

Well, as normal as ever, anyway.  The holidays are over!