Obligation and Entitlement

Men, please, just....listen for a minute, would ya? This is going to come off condescending as fuck, I'm sure, but I don't give a damn. Haven't had my coffee, yet, so you can just...get over it or die pissed off. Either way, not my problem.

And, women, there's something in here for you, too! And it isn't going to be much nicer...

:)

Onto the topic of the day!

Entitlement and Obligation. Both these states of being piss me off, to no end. There are a lot of different variations to both of them, but I'm going to focus on dating, and more specifically SEX!

I'm a slut. I know that, most of my friends know that, and I've developed a reputation as "the girl to call when you're horny," which I find extremely entertaining...but that's a whole 'notha blog post.

I have a FetLife profile. For those who don't know, FetLife is a social networking community dedicated, in the simplest terms, to letting your freak flag fly. It's a place where folks in the BDSM lifestyle can go and not be ridiculed or...well, feared. (They're not as scary as people think they are. Promise.) It's also a place for folks like myself, who like a little kink in the bedroom, but can't fully commit to being a Dom or a Sub, to meet people and share experiences with. It's a welcoming place for society's so-called "underbelly". It's pretty freaking awesome, actually. ...but it's not without it's faults.

I have pictures of my naughty bits posted on said profile. Men have this strange idea that because they've seen a picture of my pussy that they are somehow ENTITLED to getting to see it in person. They think that because they came into a tissue over it, that they should be able to come inside of it. Vulgar, yes? *nods*

That's a false sense of entitlement. 

No, I don't have to sleep with you, just because you deem it necessary, because of something you saw on the fucking internet. I don't. My body is mine, motherfucker. You have zero...let me say that again: ZERO rights to it. Period. I decide what I do with it. I am not obligated to you in any fashion, whatsoever. 

I saw your cock, dude. Doesn't mean I expect to jump right on it. The difference is, I wouldn't try. Why? Because, despite the circumstances behind how I met you, you are a goddamn person. You have feelings and dreams and insecurities and...a life outside the bedroom! What, what?!

Guess what, douche, I'm a person, too. Yes, to the horror of many men, women are real people. We have real emotions and real thoughts and real opinions...and a real foot to shove up your ass, when you push us too far. Trust me, sweetie, no matter how tough and "Dominate" you think you are, a size 9 steel-toe boot to the balls will drop you. And I will do it with a smile on my face, if you corner me. 

"But you put your pussy online. If you don't fuck me, that's false advertising." ...*takes a deep breath*

I'm not a car, dickhead. I'm not "advertising" anything. I posted pictures of myself because I'm proud of my body, every single piece of it. I did it for me. Not you. Got it? (No, probably not...)

"If you don't fuck me, you're just a tease." ... (Really, right now?)

Ok, A) I never said I wasn't going to fuck you, ever. I like being tied up and vulnerable during sex. I will not do that with someone I do not know. Period. If I don't trust you, you're not binding me... and B) If you think I'm teasing you, that's your problem, not mine. I never give false expectations. I have never, ever, said to a man "Come fuck me!" and not followed through. I have a list of guys who can back me up on that. (Keep up the bullshit and you won't ever, never ever, be on that list. Promise!)

Men, you need to get off your fucking high horses and come back down to reality. You are not entitled to jack shit that you haven't earned. Sex is a big fucking deal. A huge deal. It's not just rutting and cumming. It's trust and release, and vulnerability, for both sides. If you can't grasp the fact that emotions will be involved, especially when it's good, then stay out of the pussy and practice grasping your own cock til you grow the fuck up.

Ok, guys, go lick your wounds while I tear into my fellow females.

First of all... What the hell are y'all thinking?!

Stop fucking guys just because you think it's going to keep them around. Stop fucking guys because you think you have to, because you sent them a picture of your boobies...or other parts. Doesn't matter. Stop doing things that you know you're going to regret immediately afterward! Just STOP!

I've consoled many a friend, many times, because they regretted sleeping with a guy. The most popular reasoning I get, when I ask "Why'd you do it, then?" is: "Because he would think I was a tease if I didn't."...

So fucking what?! 

Never ever, EVER!, do anything you don't want to do. To me, that's easy, now. There was a time when I was insecure and wanted to make people like me, so I feel ya! Sex is closeness to another human being, on a level you cannot experience anywhere else... It feels like the man really likes you, in the moment, and that, especially for an insecure person, is strengthening... Guess what, though? Your ability to lay on your back and spread your legs doesn't make men like you! It simply makes them like to cum when you're around. Vulgar, yes? *nods*

Stop being easy. Jesus.

I'm a "slut". ...I think I've mentioned that before...

I like sex. So, I get it, really, I do. Sex is great, and it's exhilarating and it's...just fun! Endorphines rock, dude! Sex is a good, healthy thing, when it's done for the right reasons!

Sex becomes not fun when you do it for the wrong reasons, i.e. because the guy expects it, and you feel obligated to live up to his expectations. Fuck his expectations right to hell. And fuck you for being a little bitch and not standing up for what you want. And deserve! Grow a pair and realize that this world will not stop turning if one penis doesn't enter your vagina. I promise, it won't. 

Your body is yours, ladies. Yours. Not his. Not your mother's, even though they like to think that they own it, because it came out of their uterus. Nope. Sorry, Ma. It's ours. Fuck off. 

And, hey, if some douche stops talking to you, because you didn't fall on his dick out of obligation or insecurity, that's his problem. Not yours. If he wants pussy that bad, he can call an escort service and pay for it, or he can go without. Won't kill him. 

Another thing! Stop agreeing to sleep with them, without protection, if you don't want to. "But baby it feels so good!" ...yeah, you know what else feels good? Not having herpes. If you choose to go without a rubber, that's your risk, and I won't fault you for it. I've done it. But don't act shocked when you get an STD, or those two little lines show up on that pregnancy test. You made a decision; live with the consequences.

I feel like I'm pandering to teenagers, because it seems like common sense to me. Don't force yourself on anybody, by the use of guilt, and don't give in to make them like you. Treat others like you want to be treated...

Better yet! Ladies, behave as if you would want your daughter to behave, were she put in a similar situation. Would you want her to lay down, just because she showed her tits to a guy and she felt obligated and pressured? ...Think about that for a minute. Let that anger and shame get you worked up. Now, hold onto that feeling and harness it for the next time you decide to lay down for a man you don't want to lay down for.

And, guys...you still here?... Treat women like you would want men to treat your daughter. Simplicity at its finest. If some jackass told your daughter that she was obligated to sleep with them, because she sent them a picture of her tits, you'd probably want to kill them, or at least make them bleed, right? (If you're a good Dad, then the answer is a resounding YES!) Then why the fuck are you doing it to someone else's daughter?!

Oh, and just a little PS, at the end here: Ladies and gentlemen, if both parties aren't fully involved in the consent to sexual activities, be it second-thoughts, or inebriation, or whatever the case may be, that's rape. If a woman says STOP halfway through intercourse, and you don't stop, fellas, that's rape. Ladies, if a guy decides that he doesn't want to fuck you, even after he's hard, but you jump on anyway, that's rape! Don't go there. Just...stop. The orgasm is not worth breaking somebody's spirit.

I could go on for hours about this shit, and maybe I'll post another blog about it, once I've had coffee and nicotine, but for now, let's just not be a dick, K?

The War on Guns...oh, the irony...

I have been trying, very hard, to avoid any kind of truly controversial or political post...I just can't do it, anymore.

Am I the only one who has noticed the increase of firearm legislation, across the US?

Not really a big deal, in my opinion. So, I have 3 less rounds in my magazine...who cares?

Something else I've noticed is that there are a lot of "Mass Shootings" going around, lately.

***Now, I want to go on record saying that I am NOT belittling the tragedy of the deaths of children and innocent people.*** I'm not a complete asshole.

The Telegraph has an article up that details the number of Mass Shootings in the past 12 months, (I'll post a link to that story, below) starting with Sandy Hook Elementary, in December of 2012, and ending with a shooting in Topeka, KS, on December 1st, 2013. Not all of the Mass Shootings made headlines, which is tragic in itself. The media only covers the high-profile shootings, because Ratings!

Aurora Theater was a Mass Shooting.

LAX was not, yet the media still used the phrase...

M.S.'s are described as FOUR OR MORE people being killed in a single incident.

We've had 23, in 12 months, resulting in over 100 deaths.

The problem is not the guns. The problem is lack of training and education. The problem is the people.

I own a firearm. I've been shooting since I was 6-years-old. My first gun was a little air-powered pellet rifle. My father and my brother made sure that it was never within my reach unless they were around, and they were never more than a foot away from me, while it was in my hands. That's Responsible Gun Ownership.

I fired my first "real" gun, a .22 caliber rifle, at the age of eight (8). It took four more years before I had anything more powerful than that in my hands. Why? My father wanted to make sure that I understood every working detail about guns, and how powerful they are, and that they are not to be used on another person, unless my life is truly in danger.

I was taught to never, ever touch the trigger until I was locked onto a target, and to never, ever target anything I didn't intend to kill. I was taught that I held another being's life in my hands, whether a squirrel or a person, as soon as I aimed the gun at it. I learned how big that responsibility is.

I learned how to clean and care for a weapon...and I learned what the word "weapon" means. I was taught to never fear guns, but to respect their power. Dad told me that when a firearm was in my hand, I could be the most powerful person in the room, or the most cowardly, and it was up to me to decide who I was. My father didn't raise a coward.

These people who decide to settle an argument by killing the other person are cowards.

These people who decide to open fire on a group of unarmed citizens are cowards.

There is no reason to ever kill another human being, ever, especially a coward. You know what you get when you shoot a coward in this country? A medal. (Whaaaa?)

My father taught me that, even if I'm angry, (or maybe especially if I'm angry), a firearm is not to be drawn unless the intent is the death of the other party. I have never fired upon another human. I have drawn my weapon, ONCE, in the 20 plus years I've been handling them. The situation never escalated to the point of pulling the trigger, because I had the power, and I didn't take the cowardly way out. It was that simple. Once the situation de-escalated, the gun went away, and so did the other person.

There are some cases where the gunman in these mass shootings had PTSD or other psychological issues. That speaks to the level of mental care in this country, not to the lack of gun safety. The Naval Yard Shooting might have been prevented with proper care.

The problem with the lack of firearm education and training is fueling all kinds of political agendas. Politicians, across the country, are promising that if we give up our guns, our children will be safe in their beds, and at school, and the movie theater. I don't agree.

You know why there were fewer shootings, like the 23 we had this year, in the 1950-60s?

Firearm safety was taught in public schools.

Whoa. Blew your mind, right there, didn't I?

The same education that I received from my father, a Responsible Gun Owner, nearly every child in America received, in school.

Why are we not still doing this?

Probably for the same reason "Under God" was taken out of our pledge (which is ok...since it wasn't IN the pledge until 1954, anyway); probably for the same reason there's no morning prayer in our schools, anymore...probably for the same reason our children aren't allowed to play tag, or hold hands on the playground...and the reason they all get Participation Trophies...(don't even get me started on that BS).

This country has become a group of whiners. We're all too afraid to offend someone, so we decide to offend everyone, instead. We walk on eggshells. We don't speak our minds. We've learned to fear the truth, unless it's told by reporters...at which point it is no longer TRUE. It's spun and it's got an agenda attached to it and it just crap, as soon as the media gets a hold on it.

It's a sad state of affairs...

We're all cowards and unless someone (by that, I mean everyone) stands up to the bullies, the degenerates, the assholes, and the politicians, we're going to die a coward's death: on someone else's terms.



The Telegraph's article:  http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/northamerica/usa/10516913/Interactive-graphic-the-23-US-mass-shootings-since-Sandy-Hook.html

Note: The opinions expressed in this blog are my own, and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of Blogger, Google, The Telegraph, or any other sites/companies mentioned herein.

Take that lawyers! :P

Shifting Gears

I hate, hate, hate whiny people who always think that they're right and everybody else is wrong. (*shuffles feet* No, not me. I know I'm always right...there's a difference. :P)

I have a FB friend, whom I've been friends with for a while. She's a sweet woman but a little over-dramatic about some things. It happens. It's happened to me. Not a big deal. Anyways...to get to the point of this particular rant:

People who cannot drive, park, or otherwise operate a motor vehicle in a correct manner, piss me off! It's really not all that difficult to learn how long and wide your vehicle is, and maneuver it, accordingly. It's not that hard (or it shouldn't be) to know where your skill level is, and not to put other people's lives at risk, because of your pride.

You! In that gigantic pickup! Yes, I realize you have a lift kit and 36" tires, but you don't need half of my lane, too... I promise, if a Kenworth can fit in one lane, so can your Dodge. Just sayin'. 

You! In the compact coupe! I know the road can be a little intimidating when your the smallest thing out there, but I gave you plenty of room to slip in front of me, safely. Please, don't slam on your brakes right before you merge. You're gonna kill someone!

You, southern boy, who hasn't seen a flake of snow in his life, living in the North! Please, for the love of all that's holy, stay off the roads when it's icy! Don't assume that, just because you have a four-wheel drive, you;re going to be able to handle it. Yes, I understand you've been driving for 20 years. Yes, I understand that you've never had an accident. I get it. However, four-wheel drive does NOT mean four-wheel stop. Take a winter driving class, or stay off the damn road!

You! In the truck! (I love pick-up drivers... -_-) Just because you have a truck, does not mean you're going to make it through three-feet of running water. Stop trying it! You'll either A.) get stuck and put someone else's life at risk, when they try to rescue your dumb ass, or B.) suck water into your motor and kill your truck, then get pissed off at the city for not having "proper drainage"...mother-effer, if you has just stopped, or taken a different route, instead of trying to show off your manliness, you wouldn't have this problem.

Then there are the ones who drive too slow, or too fast...the ones who signal way too early, or not at all...the ones who leave their damn blinker on for 50 miles *twitch*...and...then there's my Facebook friend: *sigh*

She drives the Nissan. She is pissed off because the trucker got too close to her car.

Now, I'm not going to say what I believe is the problem, here. Take a look at the photo and tell me what you think made me laugh...

(The trucker is parked, length-wise, along the backend of the parking lot, where they should be, taking up multiple parking spaces...no that's not the issue I see. I'm just putting that out there for those who over-think things...people like me!)

Damn, he got close, didn't he? LOL! At least he know how big his vehicle is!

Wow...Stereotype, much?

I have an online dating profile. A lot of us do, at this point, so that's not a huge surprise. However, I do get shocked by what men get away with saying in their profiles, on a daily basis. Here are some of my favorites:

"Women don't know what they want..."

"I'll treat you like a Queen..."

"I'm a nice guy, but women don't like nice guys..."

"Just looking for FWB, no drama..."

Taking those one-liners out of context, they aren't so bad.  The first guy's profile went on to say that he would make sure that you got everything you didn't know you wanted. He'd also be so kind as to help you through difficult times, like childbearing, cleaning the house, and...Wait... Is this 1950?

The King, HA!, says that he'll lavish you with fine gifts like jewelry, spa days, and make sure that he does the cooking every now and then, too. He also won't be an absentee Father...Again, DAMMIT! Why can't you just stay out of my damn kitchen and let me raise the children like I'm supposed to do?!

The next one made me giggle all the way through the profile. He claims to be a nice guy. Maybe he is, but being nice and buying a woman's affection are not the same thing. He says he'll spoil his woman with lavish gifts, because being a mother is hard work and "you deserve only the best."... You know what else is hard work? Dealing with douchebags who think that the only thing a woman will ever do that will challenge her is raise children...

"Looking for FWB, no drama". Yeah, right. "I'll take you out somewhere nice and romance you," but he's not looking for drama? Is he sure? If you want to get laid, dude, do what the rest of us do. Pick up some poor schmuck at the bar. Leave the DATING websites to people who want to DATE!

Where do I start?

I don't think any of this is men's fault. They have been conditioned, by the media, by cartoons and comic books, by everyday life, that women are just... "soft". We women haven't done much to change the Ideal, for a long time. Sure, some of us work in "A Man's World," and some of us have more balls than men do, but most of us are lost. I'm not condemning those who chose to stay in the home and be that perfect housewife. Do your thing, if that's what makes you happy, but don't chastise the ones who have chosen not to have children, because they want a career.

There are so many stereotypes out there about women. We're nurturing, we like children, we fall in love easily, we like jewelry and chocolate and flowers, we love make-up and getting our hair and nails done, and we make good nurses, receptionists, and cashiers. Excuse me while I projectile vomit.

There.

That's better.

I don't like kids. I love my niece and nephew, but that "adorable" baby your friend just had? It looks like a pink blob. That screaming toddler isn't "going through a phase", it's just annoying. The 12-year-old girl with an attitude isn't "trying to find herself", she's just being a bitch.

I don't like jewelry, or makeup or getting my hair done. I own four bracelets. Two are Avengers Roxo bracelets, one is a rubber cookie monster thing, and the other is a leather strap. My earrings are 10 gauge, and going up...I haven't worn a ring since I lost my second turtle ring. And I won't wear makeup. Other women claim that it makes them feel better about themselves. I just get self-conscious when I'm done up, so it kind of defeats the purpose...

You know what I'm good at? Fixing shit. I've repaired plumbing, cars, wiring; installed windows and doors, rewired sound systems...most of the stereo-typically MALE things...that's what I'm good at. I love cars, trains, planes, motorcycles...if it has a motor, I'm enthralled by it. I like guns. I like getting dirty. I love hard, back-breaking, work. I enjoy working up a sweat. I cuss, I drink, I smoke. I play bloody, violent video games. And, I love sex.

My first thought, at this point, is to try and soften myself, because men like "Ladies"...*gags*... I could tell you about how feminine I can be, from time to time, and try to make myself more appealing, but I'm not going to. Why? Because fuck you and your stereotypes, that's why! I am me. I'm a selfish, self-righteous bitch, and I get along just fine without a man.

"But you have a dating profile!"

Yes, I do! Glad you noticed! I'm not going to bullshit you into thinking I'm some soft, kind, sweet, "proper" woman, and then have you get all shocked when I crawl under the car to change the oil, with a beer in my hand, belching all the way. I am who I am, and that's all that I am...(I am who I am. I'm a hooligan...sorry, had to finish the lyric)

You can't handle me. That's not a challenge. It's just a fact. A lot of the guys I've met are intrigued that I'm into cars and sports and shooting... They think it'd be nice to take their girlfriend with them to a game, or to the range. It's all fine and dandy, til they tell me to make them dinner, and I say, "Fuck off, your legs ain't broke. Make your own dinner." Then, proceed to sit down with my food and eat in front of them.

You won't handle me. You think you will, but you're wrong.

Ack! Holiday!

Happy Turkey Day!

There. I've acknowledged your existence in my life, and the holiday...can I go back to bed now?

No? I'm forced to socialize with you? WHY!?

Oh. We're family. Well, way to guilt me into it. I'll spend the rest of the day with people I'd really rather never see, because we happened to be related. Sounds fantastic.

Don't get me wrong! I love my family...most of them...most of the time. The problem is, I'm the black sheep. I'm the almost-thirty-spinster who "can't keep a man or a job" (*won't* keep a man...the job thing is true) and is going to "die miserable and alone". Yeah, well, so are you, dick. I have "more cats than sense". So not true. I have 4 cats, and I have a whole jar of cents. (HA!)

I'm the alcoholic of the family, because I enjoy myself. I'm unhealthy, because I smoke. I'm also entirely too easy to use, apparently. Nobody ever calls to just say hi...it's only when they want something out of me.

Oh, which reminds me! I'm also the family slut. (Because I won't keep a man...kinda goes without saying, doesn't it?)

"Bitter, much?" You ask. "This is the time to be thankful for all that you have, not to go on a bitch-fest. You're just an ungrateful brat!"

*takes a bow*

I am thankful for what I have. Mostly, my sense of people. I am extremely grateful for my common sense and my ability to read between the lines of what people are saying to get to what they are *actually saying*.

I'm thankful for my friends' parents, who took me in when I had nowhere else to go, something my own "blood" wouldn't do.

I'm thankful for my friends, themselves, who are more like family to me than the one I was born into.

I'm thankful for my cats. (Look out! Crazy Cat Lady coming through!)

I'm thankful for steady meals.

I'm thankful to just be alive. Life is the best adventure story I will ever experience!

I'm not, however, thankful for this god-forsaken time of year. The fake smiles and false promises. The bullshit we tell ourselves so we make that phone call we've been dreading all year.

Seriously, though. If your family is so fucking important to you, why do you only make the effort to prove it, a couple times a year?

I hate the holidays.