Boobs Rock

I found this little blog post floating around in google land and wanted to give it it’s proper due. It had me laughing so hard I almost pissed myself. I think the Alliance will agree. 🙂 http://iloveboobies.us/other-items/the-meeting-of-the-bloggersalliance/

Somewhere in the outskirts of Kansas at a compound designated by Brainrants, the Bloggers Alliance gathers for their general meeting.  in attendance is Edward Hotspur, Lifeinthefarcelane, Sparklebumps, Verynormal, Tinkerbelle, Sandylikeabeach, Imonthebandwagon guys, Sightesnbytes and Kayjai.  Kayjai allows Archon to join, but warned him to keep his Newfie slurs to himself, or the Beiber tirade will emerge.  He sits quietly, dispensing the beer. Brainrants takes the helm as the designated Chairperson.  He’s the one that drives the tank, after all.

Brainrants: okay, people let’s get this show on the road.  I need a minute taker.   Who wants the job?

Rants surveys the room and waits for someone to volunteer.  the group is situated at a big round table in a shed out in the wilderness.  as Rants waits, Sparklebumps removes a stiletto, inspecting the damage from walking in the soft ground to access the shed.  Imonthebandwagon guys are taking way too much time discussing the night’s gig and Tinkerbelle is incessantly chatting to Verynormal about America and their trip to Disneyworld the following morning.  the rest of the group looks around at each other, no one volunteering for the job.

Rants: People!  Come on we have a lot to discuss!  Hotspur!  Where’s Hellis?!

Edward Hotspur who conspicuously places a recording device in the centre of the table looks up at Rants, stunned by his being centered out so early in the meeting.

Hotspur: how the crap should I know?!  Uh, late?

Rants:  Don’t get snippy, Hotspur.  It’s not you!  Sparkle, where’s Hellis?

Sparkle looks up at Rants and gives him a smile and a wink.

Sparkle: Oh, come on Rantsy she’s just late.  give her a break, will ya?  Maybe Junior tried to punk the VP and got caught, or she’s doing a book tour or she’s trying to find some SPaM material…

Just then, Hellis storms in with her hair disheveled and her boots caked in mud.

Hellis: Hey! sorry, I’m late but this place is farther out than my place!  Rants!  What are you doing with those tires?  want me to stack them and organize them for you?

Kayjai: Oh, God.  just don’t ask him if he wants you to do his laundry for him.  He apparently HATES other people doing his laundry. If there’s anything…

Kayjai: What?  It’s true…what?  you gonna make me do pushups or something?

Rants:  *pointing to the ground* 25!

Kayjai:  Hahahaha…shit!  You’re shitting me, right?!  Ugh… okay.  *drops down on knees and begins pushups*

Rants:  Hey!  This ain’t the Canadian Army, KJ!  Full pushups!  Not wimpy-assed ones.  go!

Kayjai moans and begins full pushups mumbling under her breath about keeping her mouth shut and wishing she had begun her Crossfit training with HWSNBN.

Rants turns to Hellis:  And, no thanks. I can stack my own tires.

Hellis:  you gonna make her do all those now?   *asks while pointing to Kayjai*

Rants: no, but it’s kinda fun watching her try.

Kayjai: Hello!  Tired Canadian here!  Hellis!  Pass me a beer will ya?

Hellis throws KJ a beer as she takes her seat beside Lifeinthefarcelane, who tells Hellis about her date the night before with a handsome billionaire.    Sandyonthebeach takes out a writing pad and begins scribbling and Sightsnbytes gives her some bottled moose to try.  She politely declines and suggests he try her cucumber sandwiches and coconut cake, instead.

Rants: okay, let’s get started.  Hotspur, I’m assuming by that recording device on my table that is the instrument by which you plan to use to transcribe said meeting.

Hotspur:  Yeah..as usual.  I transcribe all my shit.  And I mean all of it.  Not just some of it, all of it.  And by shit I don’t just mean…

Rants: okay, Hotspur.  I got the picture.  you can record it, but burn it after you transcribe.  I don’t want any blogger-gate tapes floating around the internet.  Kayjai…get off the goddamned floor, please.

Kayjai: okay, but can I have a turn at driving the tank?

Kayjai: Oh, come on.  just a little jaunt around the tires?

Rants: There’s no such thing as a ‘little jaunt’ in a tank, KJ.  And no.  just no.

Kayjai: Shit.  I tried.

Kayjai gets up with beer in hand and takes a seat wearyingly beside Archon.  She gives him the secret Canadian hand signal and he immediately jumps up and gets her another cold beer.  She smiles.

Rants:  okay, I think we can all agree we’ve had our daily dealings with fuckwits, asshats, fucktards, and shitheads, but there’s always more dickweeds to make fun of.  I think we should continue with that line. as for political correctness, can we all agree that shit is a fucking waste of time?

The group nods in agreement.

Hellis: I think we should all agree that the fuckwits that run things are getting in our way.

The group listens.  then from the corner, giggling can be heard.

Rants: Verynormal, what’s so funny?

Verynormal: So sorry.  Jowett and Mike are making fun.

Jowett: sorry, mate.  Mike here has some issues with the term “monkey-boy”.

Hotspur: I mentioned that in one of my posts…

Mike: Yeah, mate.  funny shit.

Mike winks at verynormal who winks back.

Hellis:   SHE’S 18!!!!!!!

The group stares in amazement at the outburst.

Hellis:  I’m just sayin’….

Verynormal: I have a boyfriend….Ben…he’s sooo…

Rants: okay, sorry to interrupt, but we need to wrap this up.

Sparklebumps: okay, everybody so we’re just continuing with our shit and keeping up with the sarcasm, wit and general fucking around that we all think is funny.  Generally, boobs rule.  Gotcha.

Rants: I love boobies….

Hellis: Yeah…we got that.

Rants: okay, meeting adjourned.  everyone remember to meet back here in another month.  Hellis do you need any assistance reaching the handle to the door?

Hellis: That’s fucking hilarious, Rants.  Oh, look what I found!  Keys…I wonder to what?  Maybe the tank that’s sitting out back?

Hotspur: I call shotgun!

Rants: There’s no ‘shotgun’ position in a tank, Hotspur and Hellis is NOT driving it!

Hellis: like shit, I’m not!  you have to catch me first!

She explodes out the door as the group follows her, watching her race to get inside the tank.  Rants stays behind and clears the table.

Rants to himself:  She can’t reach the fucking door….

I’d like to thank all my blogging friends for allowing me to poke fun and maybe share a laugh.  You guys rock!

Brought to you by Shaney jo Darden and I Love Boobies. You are too funny girl.

Smut-R-Us

So, one of my secret pasttimes is writing erotica for fun. I have debated on whether or not to share my smut writings, simply because I have relatives that read this blog, but then I thought, “What the hell? They’ve already read all the secret stuff I’d be embarrassed about.” After my little post on Exquisite Pain, I thought I’d share a little story that will help explain the allure. Here we go:

Linnea tipped her head back, the crimson scarf tied over her eyes obscuring her view, so she tilted her head for any sound that was an indication of what was to come. The anticipation hung in the air, heavy like incense, and Linnea’s muscles visibly tensed when she sensed a presence to her right.

A loud SMACK! resounded throughout the space, and Linnea let out a gasp at the unexpected spanking. Her arms strained against the silken scarves that held her wrists, but Jess had tied them securely, and there was no give. Her buttocks stung at the next blow, even as Linnea felt the spot between her thighs dampen with desire. The matching scarves that secured her ankles to the bedpost grew taught as she began to struggle after the third spanking. She pressed her hips to the bed, trying to alleviate some of the longing that was burning in her loins.

Jess watched in amusement, her nipples growing taught as she admired the rosy flush of Linnea’s backside where she had administered her discipline. She ran one perfectly-manicured fingernail up the back of Linnea’s thigh, her lips tilting in a half smile as she watched the goosebumps rise on her pale skin. Blushing Desire was the color of the nailpolish; Jess found that amazingly fitting. She ran her nails up Linnea’s thigh once more, exerting more pressure this time- hard enough to leave a pinkened trail of marks; hard enough to draw a whimper from Linnea’s lips.

Jess let out a pleased laugh from deep in her throat as she noticed the sheet beneath Linnea become wet with her desire. “How easily pleased,”  Jess thought, and she leaned forward enough that her whisper caused the tendrils of hair near Linnea’s ear to tremble with her breath.

“Little Pet, your desire amuses me.”

Linnea moved her head, trying to get closer to her lover, but Jess backed away. Linnea felt panicked for a second, certain that Jess had deserted her, but a moment later relief washed over her when she felt Jess straddle her. Linnea could feel the dampness of Jess’s own want just above her tailbone as she balanced there, and the brush of Jess’s taut nipples on her back as she leaned down to whisper again.

“This,” Jess plunged her fingers into Linnea, “is mine.” Linnea’s whimpering grew louder as Jess’s fingers moved. Jess’s breath was hot on Linnea’s neck as she worked her way deeper into Linnea’s depths. Linnea felt Jess’s other hand part her buttocks, and a second later a finger plunged into her ass. Linnea squealed in surprise, and bucked wildly for a moment until she felt Jess’s hold on her nether regions tighten. The vice-like grip was still in place as Jess whispered again, “All of this is mine.”

La la la. I can’t give it ALL to you at once. 😉 XOXO

A Shattered Life

This will not be one of my witty posts that I am so well known for. Instead, it’s a post that let’s you know how quickly a window you look through and see a perfect picture can shatter, and you are left wondering how to pick up the pieces.

So, the other day, my Rockstar changed the the air filter in my POS car. We joked about how I should really not waste any more money maintaining it, since he has been convinced since the birth of our relationship that my car is on it’s last legs. (Or tires, if you wish). My car started right up after he had finished doctoring it, and we went inside and proceeded with our night.

The next day, I was intent on making my daily pilgimage to McDonald’s, and my car wouldn’t start. I was not immediately concerned, because I assumed that whatever was wrong had to do with the doctoring we had done the day before, and that perhaps we disconnected something. I spent the day learning much mechanical things, watching Youtube videos on how to get your car to start and what to check when it wouldn’t. I feel much less helpless now. However, nothing I learned was directly related to the problem with my car.

When my Rockstar got home, he attempted to find the problem, but to no avail. We then went inside, and I asked him what I should do. He said, “I’ve told you what to do with that piece of shit since the beginning.”

Now, I may have mentioned my Rockstar’s utter lack of sweet talking in the past, and here is a perfect example. I realize that I need a new car. I ALSO realize that I have shit credit, so I cannot get a loan for a new car; I do not own a money tree, so I cannot go pay cash for a new car, and I do not expect my Rockstar in any way to give me money or co-sign for a new car. However, since we are in a committed relationship, I, for some silly reason, do expect a little sympathy, and perhaps a little help in discovering a solution to problems that may arise. Instead, my Rockstar informed me that he had no intentions of changing his Thanksgiving weekend plans of going to his family’s in South Dakota, and that I was on my own for figuring out rides to and from work. Or in his words, “You’ll have to call a cab.”

One thing some of you may not realize is that working as a Pizza Slut is at most times, NOT a lucrative position. If I had money to afford taxi rides to and from work, I would most certainly have money to get my car fixed before the weekend. Instead, yesterday my Rockstar and I had a conversation, and it went something like this:

Him: So you know you’re going to have take a cab to work this weekend right?

Me: Yes, I’ve realized that you won’t be around to help.

Him: Well, if you can get out of work, then you won’t have to sit home alone on Thanksgiving. You can come with us.

Me: If I don’t go to work, I won’t have money to get my car fixed. I’m not really worried about sitting home alone, I’m more worried about the fact that you’re being an asshole about the whole thing. It’s not exactly what I need at this moment.

Him: I’m not being an asshole. But if you’re not happy with the way things are, you need to change them. I’ve been working overtime, and I’m not going to sit here just because you have a shitty job that can’t pay for stuff. The way I see it at this second is that you are a hopeless case. You have no money, and you have no family that will help you out. If you expect us to get a house together and everything to be fine, you are going to have to show me you can step it up. And I don’t understand the importance of your blog. It seems like maintaining that is more important to you than finding a decent job.

So, here is evidence that I really DO live in my own little world. Because I was under the impression that there were no bumps in our relationship. Instead, I find that there are giant canyons in the road, and since he fails to mention them, I end up falling into them. Yes, I realize that getting fired from my bookstore was not exactly ideal. However, my pizza gig is less hours, but with tips I make the same if not a little bit more money that I did. Yes, I should get another job, but I wasn’t aware that working as a waitress made me unworthy and subject to such ass-face-edness from my Rockstar. As far as my blog goes, yes, it got me fired from my job, but it is about writing, and my readers assure me it is worth my time.

After his outburst, (which was really more of his quiet voice emitting no emotion whatsoever) I was speechless. He has mentioned in the past that my talent for writing is going to waste as I slave away at menial jobs; but I have never once asked him for money, and I don’t want to be loved or not loved according to what I do to pay my bills. His reaction to my car breaking down made me feel that I am little more than an inconvenience, and that makes me feel that I should remove myself from the situation so I am no longer a bother to him.

I went to another room and tried to mute my sobbing. After taking a couple deep breaths, I went back out to him and basically told him that if he truly loves me, he must give some indication. I informed him that I only want someone to sit next to and hold my hand; someone who WANTS to spend time with me, even if it’s doing something he’s not especially fond of; someone who loves me despite the fact that I have a shitty car and a shitty job; and someone who will tell me everything will be ok when shit falls apart- not someone who says it’s my own damn fault.

After my little speech (which took quite a long time to get out, since I was alternating between snotting all over the place and squeezing my eyes shut to stop the tears), he said, “I’m not complaining about our relationship.”

Someone please translate this Man Speak. Because it certainly sounded like he was pointing out all the things that are wrong. I honestly don’t know what to do or what to think.

How can two people be in a relationship where one person thinks things are nearly perfect, yet the other person is thinking their significant other isn’t good enough?

P.S. I KNOW I am good enough, I just am confused as to why he doesn’t think so.

 

 

Things I’m Thankful For

Since this is kind of a jacked- up Thanksgiving, (I’ll post about that after I eat pizza) this will be a little harder than I thought.

Music- because without it the voices in my head would be confusing me. Instead, they sing, and that’s not so bad.

My Rockstar- because without him, I would never have understood the term “Making love”, and he cleans off my car when it snows, which no one has ever done for me before.

My Rockstar’s Daughter- because without her, I would never know what it’s like to be an evil stepmother. The one in Cinderella is really misunderstood…

Candy- because without it, I would never come close to orgasm because of food.

My Readers- because without you, I would just be some 30 yr-old writing a diary, and that’s kinda pathetic.

Shoes- because without them, my outfits would never look as good as they do.

God- because without Him, I would have killed myself years ago; now I realize He just likes to fuck with me, and it keeps my life… interesting.

Church- because without it, I would never get to hear, “We LOVE your music! Thank you so much!” Also, I get my fill of hugs for the week in less than an hour.

Work- because without is, I could never afford shoes. And it’s good to be useful sometimes.

Books- Because without them, I would really be so much dumber.

Chris Meloni- because without him, I wouldn’t have a celebrity crush other than Angelina, and Chris is really aging so much more gracefully.

My Square-haloed People- I will give an explanation. My pastor described square- haloed people as angels on earth. They are the people that make me feel that I’m worth knowing.

OK, I guess that’s all for now. I loves you all and have a great holiday, my fellow Americans.