And now for the Drug portion of our program

Ok, so I don't really have any drugs to write about at the moment, other than weed. I stopped doing all the other shit many moons ago, which I guess is a good thing...though lately I've really had a hankerin' for something with a little kick. I'm beginning to crave a little coke, but I'd settle for a weekend spent doing crank instead. Of COURSE it's not the same and I'd cut off my own left pinky if I found myself daring to compare the two, but when the going gets tough, the tough sometimes do crank.

At any rate, I'm an avid fan of weed, and I partake daily. I'm not sure I will ever quit smoking weed. I'm fine with it. I'm not a drugged-up (drugged-out?) pothead who needs to be stoned all day everyday. Quite the contrary. I don't EVER come to work high (ever since I got this respectable office job, that is) and I don't spend money on weed instead of bills or groceries or anything like that. But I do go home each night, take out my contacts (who says you can't get cotton eyes?) and sit back and get stoned. It's a wonderful way to spend my evenings and weekends. Yum.

Y'all enjoy your weekend, and maybe if I get off my dead lazy ass, I'll get to a computer and blog this weekend. Otherwise, I'm back in action on Monday. Kisses!

Warning: Sex

For anyone who hasn't read the subtitle under the title of my blog, I've decided to kindly title this sex post as such. Gawd knows I'd hate to offend anyone's delicate sensibilities. I can't even say that w/out laughing. Like I care. If you don't like that I blog about sex, well there's a little black "X" at the top of your screen somewhere...click on it, and it'll get you the hell outta dodge. Now, on with the juicy details. Heh, she said juicy.

Vin took me out last night to celebrate the fact that I got a 6% raise at work yesterday. (The biggest raise I've gotten since I started working here.) We went downtown Minneapolis to a great pizza place, and then walked the two blocks from there over to Sexworld to check out the toys and porn and other delicious offerings. He got us each a little something, and we headed back to my place.

I think it took us about 2.5 seconds to get naked and in bed. A little kissing, a little caressing, a little chit-chat. He was telling me something about me being an upper-class bar skank (mmmm...love it when he talks to me like that) and I feigned offense and tried to pinch his nipples in retaliation. He wasn't having any of that nonsense, and quickly grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head - hard and forceful. He knows how I like it! He says..."You think you're a tough little girl, don't you? Well why don't you try to struggle, then?" Oh how I love to squirm. I love the feel of him forcing me down, taking control of me, forcing me into submission. So I struggled a bit, wriggling around on the bed trying to get free of his iron clad grasp on my wrists and out from under his weight on top of me. (You'd think that since I have at least 40 pounds on him this wouldn't be so hard, but DAMN is he fucking STRONG!) He laughed at me. I love that arrogant chuckle and the look of pity for me on his face when he does it. (The one that smacks of sarcasm...as if to mock me with "Oh you poor, defenseless little creature - whatever shall you do?") All the while, he's saying things to me about what a pussy I am and why can't I free myself and if I were as tough as I say I am, I'd be on top of HIM by now. Fuck, I was getting so hot I almost started to beg him to fuck me. He must have read my mind, because he let go and shifted positions, settling down between my legs. His hand lightly caressed my mound, and I gasped. I was so wet I was just sure it was dripping from my pussy down my ass. He wasted no time inserting a finger into my pussy...then two....then three. By now I'm moaning and gasping and eager for more more more. He slowly fucked me with his fingers, then went for a fourth. MMMMMM....oh HELL yes! I was completely relaxed and more than aroused (um, I think ON FIRE might qualify) so he grabbed some lube, and decided to go all the way. Ever so slowly I felt more of his hand inside me. He reached down with his other hand and began to tease, fondle, and penetrate my ass, (fucking HEAVEN) and I could feel my orgasm building. I reached down between my legs and started rubbing circles around my clit as he plunged the rest of his hand into my dripping pussy, and I thought I was going to lose my mind in painful pleasure. He moved his hand inside me, and I felt my pussy tighten hard around his hand. My own hand was moving at a feverish pace at my clit, and I held my breath...and practically EXPLODED in orgasm. My body was jerking spazmodically, and I was taking in sharp, ragged breaths. (When I cum, I cum HARD. Vin has told me he's only seen people cum like me in porn.) I think it took me over 5 minutes to regain my composure and I never did get it back completely. He laid behind me, spooning me, waiting for me to catch my breath. He started grinding against my ass, and I got excited all over again. I moved a bit so we could get into a better position, and he started to slowly fuck my ass, which was INSANELY tight because I'd just had a huge orgasm. My muscles hadn't relaxed yet, and when he entered me, I let out a moan. We went on grinding like that for a few minutes, and I was loving every painful second of it. I liked it so much in fact, that I was wishing he wouldn't cum so I could enjoy it longer. His breathing became intense, and with a few slow and deliberate thrusts, he was cumming.

It was fucking AMAZING. (Yes, the sex was awesome, but I'm specifically referring to the fisting.) That was the first time I've ever been fisted, and it is DEFINITELY something I'm going to be asking (begging, if need be) for again. We rounded out the evening with a little spanking, biting, and knife and razor play. Maybe when I have a little more time, I'll post about that too, but for now, I'm spent.

Quote of the Day

"Poor is the man whose pleasures depend on the permission of another." ~Madonna

More on that in my next post.

School Shooting

Classmate under arrest in Cold Spring shootings

Take a 90 minute drive northwest from my house in the Twin Cities, and you'll wind up in Cold Spring, Minnesota. I've been there, many times. It is a small and cute little town, quiet as all get-out, and a place where people can still leave their doors unlocked at night without worrying that any harm will come to them. Literally. (I'm saying that to give you an idea of what the town is like. I am not saying it because I think school shootings are any more out of place there than they would be in a larger town.) I just don't understand shit like what happened yesterday. I wouldn't understand it if it had happened here in the Cities, either.

This was my favorite excerpt from the article I linked to above:

"The motive for the shootings was unclear, but neighbors of McLaughlin's [the shooter] said he suffered a lot of teasing over his acne and seemed to withdraw because of that."

This leads me to believe that the reason he went ballistic and killed at least one classmate is because he was BEING TEASED and became withdrawn. Maybe it's speculative reporting because people need to believe there is a reason this would happen; but maybe there is some truth in that speculation. What. The. Hell. ?! What has happened to teenagers that take out their anger and frustration in this manner? Granted, I graduated 13 years ago, and of course I expect life is much different for teens nowadays than it was for me at their age. But when and how did this frame of mind (that it is okay to shoot people due to being bullied or teased) become so widespread? Don't answer that. I really don't care to engage in a debate about it. It just pisses me off and confuses me, and I really wish things like this didn't happen. Not just here in Minnesota, but all over the country. (Aw Jesus. Just heard about another one on the radio. Read about it here.)

I really wish there were a clear-cut answer on how to stop things like this from happening in the future. Sadly, I don't think there is.

Earn It!

My catch-phrase of the day. Wonder if I could trademark it? Eh, whatever. It would just be cool if people caught on and started spouting "Earn It!" at every given opportunity. Basically, this stems from one of my pet peeves, which is people thinking that the world owes them a fucking favor. Earn It, asshole! I'm SO sick of hearing people complain about others having what they don't, and doing absolutely nothing to change their own situation. In other words, doing jack shit to Earn It. WTF dude?? This phrase also applies to people that expect things like trust, respect, and loyalty from others. Fucking Earn It! The world can be a harsh, unfriendly and unfair place, and take it from me - it and the people in it don't owe you a damn thing. If you want IT (whatever IT is for you) do yourself a favor and go Earn It!

I'm not crabby or anything, I swear I'm not. It's just one of those things that bugs me, and I was sparked to rant about it due to a conversation I had with one of my coworkers today. He was telling me about his kid wanting a certain car. (He has 4 kids between the ages of 13 and 19, and has already purchased a car for the oldest.) I said to him "Oh? How does (kid) plan to pay for it?" He laughed at me. I raised an eyebrow and looked back at him and said "Well?" He laughed some more, and muttered something about it being a parental responsibility of sorts. GOOD GRIEF.

Maybe I really shouldn't have kids, because I'm telling you right now, no amount of conversation will EVER convince me that it's my "responsibility" as a parent to purchase and make insurance payments on a car I will never drive. Not only that, but I suppose then I will additionally be expected not to be upset when the little shit gets in an accident while talking on his cell phone (which, no doubt, I will have bought and now pay montly service charges on). Fuck that.
My parents raised me right. If I wanted something, I busted my ass around the house (cleaning, ironing, doing dishes, etc.) until they decided I'd done enough back-breaking work to have earned whatever it was I wanted. If I went to my parents and asked for money, they'd laugh at me and tell me to go get a job and earn it. Imagine that! They taught me there's no such thing as a free lunch, no one is going to give you hand outs, and if you want something, you have to go out and Earn It!

In case you wondered...

I am the perfect girlfriend. Quizilla told me so. Look:


-Perfect- You're the perfect girlfriend. Which
means you're rare or that you cheated :P You're
the kind of chick that can hang out with your
boyfriend's friends and be silly. You don't
care about presents or about going to fancy
placed. Hell, just hang out. You're just happy
being around your boyfriend.


What Kind of Girlfriend Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Don't worry, I don't base my life on quizzes any more than I believe I'm perfect. Far from it, in fact. But it's nice to hear anyway!

Today's PSA

First of all, I went to sleep last night mentally slapping myself on the forehead. Sometimes I am just so...SLOW. It is SO hard for me to remember that most guys just flat out say what they mean. (I know, it's not really that difficult a concept, but I'm a chick, so gimme a break.) Most chicks I know are not exactly masters of this skill. It's one of those subtle (heh, subtle...riiiiight) differences between males and females. Hence, yesterday's post. Vin said what he meant, and I just could NOT accept that as fact. I was just sure there was some hidden, underlying message to be found in him telling me "I don't want to burden you with my worries" (in regards to him not wanting to discuss what was on his mind.) Maybe not so much a message, but I did figure there had to be some REASON; the "burden" thing felt like, well, an excuse. Turns out, my "chickmind" had taken things to an unnecessary level (shocker) and that he really does feel like him telling me his worries is a burden to me. I may have convinced him otherwise last night (he ended up spilling the beans) or maybe he just felt like telling me for no reason. We'll see how that goes in the future. For today, and for as long as I can, I will try to keep in the forefront of my mind that when Vin tells me something, I almost NEVER need to read between the lines. He says what he means. Period. So that's my PSA to any girl out there that also may have this affliction.

My second PSA for the day (call it a Two for Tuesday, like Jewdez does) revolves around cunnilingus. I read this an incredibly long time ago, and it remains one of the best (and most accurate) pieces I have ever read on the fine art of eating pussy. (And I do consider eating pussy an art.) I share this with you not because I assume you need it, but just because it's a helpful guide and it seems a shame to keep it a secret. Enjoy.

And hey, let me know if you have any questions. (I don't mean about cunnilingus, necessarily....though I'd happily respond to those inquiries the best I can.) I'll willingly answer just about anything within reason. May give me some blog inspiration, you never know!

Frustrated

So, I have a boyfriend that won't talk to me. It's not that he won't talk to me, exactly, but more that there are specific things he won't talk to me about. Ever have one of those? SO FRUSTRATING. I know there are things on his mind today; things that are bothering him or weighing him down. He's said as much. So I ask him what's on his mind and would he like to talk about it? He tells me that he doesn't want to "burden" me. (His word, not mine.) I tell him that's what I'm here for. He says something to the effect of "BAH!" Here's where I throw my hands in the air and walk off in a huff. Ok, I couldn't really walk off because we were on the phone, but mentally I did a little montage that consisted of me crossing my arms, jutting my lip out in a snotty pout, and tapping my foot.

I'm very big on communication. The essence of communication is my lifeblood. I take it seriously, and strive to do it to the best of my ability. (Wonder why it took me so long to start a blog?) Try as I might, I don't understand people that can't, don't, or won't communicate. Why does he need to keep it bottled up? I don't understand why he thinks that telling me his problems/worries/concerns is a burden to me. When he says that, it makes me feel as if I'm useless to him. Like there's no possible way I could offer anything in the way of advice, so what good am I in that capacity? I don't pride myself on having all the answers, nor do I pride myself on my stellar ability to give advice. I'm fully ready and capable of admitting that there are TONS of situations that I have no idea how to help with, let alone solve. But I wish I could understand why he doesn't feel it does him any good to allow me to be a part of his thought process. There are times that I doubt seriously that he'll be able to give me advice about some particular thing that's bugging me, but I present the idea to him anyway, just to 'breathe life into it', as it were. Sometimes, just the act of saying the words out loud to another human being that I know is really listening to me and cares about what I'm saying is enough for me. Sometimes, just saying it out loud is enough to start my thought process a flowin', and often I can figure things out on my own. Does he really think he needs to handle EVERYTHING himself, or is it that he doesn't trust me with this troubles? I guess that's what bothers me the most - I get the feeling that he doesn't trust me with his thoughts sometimes. I know that's a bad way to look at it, and it's possible that he just has my best interests at heart (in that he doesn't want to add his worries to my worry load). But it just doesn't sit well with me. It makes me feel shut out and closed off from him. It makes me feel as though he may think I'm too weak to hear about his problems because I'd make them my problems, and it would be too much for me. I guess I should stop trying to speculate. I'm never going to know the answer, so why bother asking the question?
I guess I just wish he would talk about whatever's on his mind, good and bad both. I don't want to hear just the happy crap, I want to hear it all. It doesn't feel real if all I ever hear is the good shit. OK fuckit. I'm starting to sound stupid here.

Anyway. On to other pressing matters. Had the weekend to myself, literally. Roomie was gone on a date (finally! YAY!!) Saturday nite, and I was left to entertain myself (Vin the boyfriend was working all weekend and could not be convinced to see his beloved for a little sexual distraction. That fool.) Since I've not seen much of my porn collection since we started dating (haven't needed it) I dragged out one of my favorite tapes (chicks & guys, all anal) to get the party started. Turns out, it made me miss Vin even more. (I know, I know - vomit! SO GIRLY!) Eh, whatever. I had plenty of fun anyway! I'm more than thankful that I have several toys to choose from, but I've decided my toy collection could use a little expansion. I need more things that vibrate, and more variety for my ass. Maybe a vibrating butt-plug would do the trick. I read somewhere about them, but I'm too lazy to link to it for you. Maybe I'll edit this later and hook y'all up.

EDIT: here's the link to a vibrating butt-plug, courtesy of Vin. Enjoy. OH! and let me know if you wanna buy it for me! HA!!

I need...

a spanking today. Feeling slightly uninspired. I blame work. What the hell am I doing here on a fucking Saturday, anyway?? Oh wait, I remember...something about spending too much time fucking around with my blog when I shoulda been working. Hm. I'm so bad. See! I told you I need a spanking!!

Under the Tuscan Sun

So the roomie and I were watching TV last night (I was stoned, as usual; she was sober, as usual) when we saw a trailer for Under the Tuscan Sun. We were both quiet for a second then this:

Me: Well there's a movie I'll never see.
Roomie: (pursing lips together) THHPPPBBBTTT!!!!! (you know, that sound you make when you stick out your tongue and blow like a fart)
Me: (laughing) I'd rather be subjected to a fucken Steven Segal movie...
Roomie: (laughing harder)...Oh! Or Steven Segal vs. Jean Claude Van-Damme. In a battle....of the wits
Me: (laughing harder still) Like some macabre version of the Freddy vs. Jason bullshit.

I almost peed my pants. See, weed can make just about anything funny.

Well, I'm off to work on perfecting this blog. Have some formatting crap to change and other fun stuff.

Quote of the Week

"It's 3:00 am and you need to fuck me in the ass RIGHT NOW. " ~ me

What can I say? The boyfriend (I'll call him Vin, heh heh. YES after Vin Diesel) heard me say that to him last Saturday night and told me it was DEFINITELY the quote of the week. YUM. I could get all mushy here and tell you how in love and happy I am, but I'd hate to think of all my readers out there trying to get vomit off their computer monitors, so I'll leave it be. For now.

I've decided I'll be posting a Quote of the Week every Friday. Any quote. Should be interesting.

Ok, I'm abruptly out of shit to say right now. Just got a disturbing memo at work (Yep, I do this from work. I don't have a computer at home.) and I am too frustrated to continue. More later? Perhaps. Maybe a juicy story or something fun.

My First Post!

Ok, so everybody knows about Hurricane Isabel, right?
I do, even though I live in Minnesota, which you may know is nowhere near the coast (any coast), and therefore nowhere near the hurricane. Now, I'll be the first to admit that when it comes to the east coast, I'm a bit, how shall we say, geographically challenged, but I DO have a clue what's over there. Apparently, there are some people even more challenged than me, as evidenced by the following phone call that took place yesterday.
A lady at work had her car break down on her way out of the parking lot. She called AAA and as the operator was attempting to help her, she decided to engage in a little friendly chit-chat, which went as follows:
(Keep in mind, the operator knows this lady is in Minnesota)

Operator: So, are you feeling the effects of the hurricane yet?
Lady: (pause) Um, no, I'm pretty far away from it.
Operator: Oh really?
Lady: Well yea, I mean, Minnesota is pretty far from the coast.
Operator: Oh I thought you'd be right down in it!
Lady: (pauses again) Hmm. Well where are you located?
Operator: I'm in Michigan.
Lady: Well are you feeling the effects of the hurricane?
Operator: Oh heavens no, we're hundreds of miles away!
Lady: Riiiight, well Minnesota is even further away than you are.

WOW. I guess I always imagined that AAA (no matter where the call center was located) would have some sort of MAP around, being that one of their main purposes for existing is to help stranded motorists get from one place to another. Call me crazy.

That operator reminded me of all those kids (ahem, teenagers) that you see working as cashiers that can't make change unless it tells them the exact amount of your change on their little computer screen. It scares the bejeezus out of me to think that ANYONE that has at least attended grade school in this country can't make change from a dollar. What on earth is becoming of us? Are we so reliant on technology (i.e. computers and calculators) that we can't even make change? Gawd I hope not. I've been in their shoes - I cashiered for many years and I NEVER had a problem making change. (Not even when I was stoned at work, which was a large portion of the time.)
Good grief.

Anyway - YAY me on this being my first post ever! I promised myself I'd find a place to write to my little heart's content and now I have. This blog isn't for you, dear reader (though I do appreciate the attention) but for me. A place to say what I think, no matter what. I'm thrilled.