Not all the time of course, that would have the potential to develop into a very one sided sexual relationship. Which I suppose would work out well for some people. No judgement.
No one wants to have sex for hours, that’s bullshit. Sometimes when a man takes a long time to cum it makes me wonder what’s wrong with me. I feel inadequate and unattractive. Every now and then when a man just can’t hold on, I fucking love it. It’s a huge self-esteem boost and it makes me feel wanted and powerful. I can have an orgasm whenever I want but self esteem is harder to come by.
The first time I had that experience was in high school. I was talking to a male friend about the fact that I had never given a BJ and he kindly offered his penis for practice. Practice penis. How chivalrous of him! He came so quickly I wrote about it in my diary. I thought I was the BJ queen. Now we’re Facebook friends and “like” pictures of each other’s children.
All you quick cumers out there: keep up the good work, you’re doing a good thing!!!
do you ever accidentally “like” something on facebook then panic and unlike it? And then panic about whether or not you should like it again so you don’t look like a dick but then worry that that person might get two notifications and then think you’re over eager? Once I accidentally invited myself to a gay men’s event on facebook. Technology is stressful.
I’ve spent 97% of my day feeling anxious. The very sound of one of my children speaking or the dog squeeking her toy sending me into a panic. I tried to find silence for awhile by walking the dog but then someone else was walking their dog and started talking to me. Just because we both have dogs doesn’t mean we should talk. Let’s just look at the ground, pretend we don’t see each other and keep walking like normal people.
I’ve been meaning to watch the shinning for years. Even though suspenseful/horror movies scare me its just one of those classics that I felt I needed to watch. I finally found it on Netflix today and decided to watch it. That was a bad choice. An anxious person should not watch a two plus hour movie that plays scary music for the full movie. I won’t lie, I closed my eyes a couple of times. That helped a little. I don’t know why at the end he looks through the door and says “here’s Johnny!” His name was Jack. And then when the kid runs into the hedge maze to get away? Really? A massive hedge maze in the winter? Kids are stupid. The best bit though was seeing this scene.
I always assumed that was from jack frost (which I have also never seen). I learned something today. Today has been a success! A mediocre success. Not all that successful actually.
I was reading a news article last week which mentioned a yik yak bullying incident in a school. I didn’t have a fucking clue what a yik yak was and had to look it up. Just what the world needs, another fucking social media platform. For those as equally as above 35 and not trendy as I am, yik yak allows you to anonymously make a post which people can upvote/down vote or comment on. It is all locally based. It looks like this:
I suppose it could be useful if say, you lose your car in the mall parking lot in the rain and you want to post a message looking for someone willing to drive you around to look for it. Or maybe you lost your hairy wiener dog Frank and are desperately trying to see his glossy coat flowing in the breeze again.
While these are actually all incredibly practical uses of this app, it’s mostly used to tell jokes or find people who are dtf.
Social media is all getting a bit much for me. You can follow yik yak on Instagram which you can share on your Facebook and people can retweet the whole damn thing. What happened to the good old days when people looked at pictures of cats riding unicorns shooting laser rainbows from their eyes and then taking a break to tweak the toucan while watching porn. I miss the good old days.
That yak logo is fucking adorable though. When you pull down to refresh he spins his cute little head around and around. Look at him go.
Today was my first day back to work since my trip to crazy town last month. I had terrifying dreams last night, began my morning with an Ativan to calm me down and ended my workday with a glass of wine.
The day itself wasn’t particularly bad really, but for me who likes being organized, being off work is almost as bad as being at work because you miss out on so much. Countless emails and pending appointments, groups and events. I dislike not feeling in control and knowledgeable. I also realized today that I had zero interest in speaking with my clients which is rather a pity since it’s my job and all. I should really look into that career of hugging farm animals. Professional hugger. That could be me. Think of all the plaid button up shirts I could buy.
My return home from work brought dishes, a back to school shoe shopping trip to the mall and a shave of my sons head in efforts to eliminate what I believe to be lice. Once that was sorted I hopped on my Facebook and saw a feed filled with depressed imgurians seeking support. I love browsing imgur and had been enjoying a group of 4,000ish like minded people until the groups became about 50% funny and 50% severely depressed and suicidal members seeking support. One might think Id be a bit more sympathetic to such things and I am but the truth is it’s exhausting. Caring is hard and tiring work and I’m exhausted enough already. Everything I do is exhausting and sometimes you have to look out for yourself. And so I chose to leave a group of nice people that needed help because I’m just too tired to help.
My only saving grace for the evening was the three episodes of the inbetweeners I watched. That show can make me laugh more than anything else right now. North American tv should really learn from the English. They are fucking funny. Bollocks. Wanker. Piss.
Last weekend I was out with some friends and we were talking about Facebook and all of the “friends” we tend to keep. Over the past couple of years I have done at least two major “friend” purges. The first began with the removal of about 30 work colleagues because some areas of ones life are best kept with your nearest and dearest colleagues, not all of them. There are some people in this world who will offer you cupcakes and compliments to your face and then stab you in the back the moment you turn around. I’m okay with that now though, I’ve removed all of that from my life.
In our topic of Facebook friends we talked about purging and how one decides who to get rid of. A friend put it very well I think….If you saw someone in real life on your friends list and your reaction would be to hide or avoided having to talk to them for real, you should probably remove them from your “friends” list. I mentioned that I had removed my birthday from Facebook last year to avoid all the mandatory generic Happy Birthday wishes from people I don’t usually talk to. The conversation veered toward putting a fake birthday on Facebook and using it as a tool to purge, anyone who wishes you a Happy Birthday gets unfriended.
Today was my unbirthday. At first I almost felt a little guilty because the people who started wishing me a happy birthday are people that I actually really do like and who legitimately wouldn’t know when my birthday was. Some people messaged me privately and were a little confused and some people just went with it knowing full well it wasn’t my birthday. I was a little surprised by one friend that I’ve known for probably 15 years who’s birthday is the day after mine. He wished me a Happy Birthday and I’m certain that it wasn’t a joke. We’ve often celebrated our birthdays together, really? Really?! It doesn’t bother me though. People have forgotten my birthday before and I’m confident that I have forgotten theirs as well. It doesn’t mean we’re not good people or good friends.. I think I’ll keep my unfriending to those who I would hide from in public and those who are assholes.
One thing I am a little disappointed about is that nobody bought me a damn cake. Birthday or unbirthday, I want some mother fucking cake.
Last night I spent an intimate evening with a bottle of rum. When intoxicated I have a horrible habit of going on Facebook and clicking absolutely everything then the next morning when I log in it all comes flooding back. I liked what? I’m friends with who now? One day I will find myself in the awkward position of having to explain why I liked a post about genocide or child abuse. I’ve already unfriended one person from last night because their status update was about Jesus. NOPE, not happening.
This morning I had a great dream. I was on a team playing a game that was similar to volleyball but played in a pool and without a net, the opposite end of the pool was the goal line. I was the star player that everyone had to guard because I was such a fucking fantastic swimmer and ball spiker. It felt amazing to finally be good at a sport, even if it was an imaginary dream one.
This has nothing to do with anything except I was thinking about it. It makes me laugh and cringe simultaneously.
Now I want to watch Wanderlust instead of Forrest Gump. I am probably one of the few remaining people in the developed world that has never seen Forrest Gump. Netflix suggests that based on my preferences I will not like it. 2 out of 5 stars. If I’m honest I mostly want to watch it because I think it will make for a good nap movie. If you don’t understand what I mean by nap movie I don’t think I want you to read any more of my posts. ever.
Let’s all take a moment and please be proud of me for staying away from facebook for about 44 hours. That’s a pretty big fucking deal for me actually as sad as that sounds. Maybe it’s not much to be proud of really, it was more avoidance than actually choosing to do something really productive with my day.
So one of my children got lice. AGAIN for about the fucking 20th time this year. I’m itchy just thinking about it. I’ve tried so many different methods to get rid of them and in the end the best one so far has been soaking in conditioner and combing out the little fuckers followed by a dousing in a bottle of coke to eat away the shells of the eggs. I’m pretty sure the classroom is just full of little lice having a little lice party every morning when the kids come back to school. As a follow up to the conditioner rinse I got a battery operated comb that alerts you by sound when it finds one and then it electrocutes it. It’s called the Robi-comb and it’s my new boyfriend. I probably should have been a little more cautious when putting a device on my child’s head that runs an electric current but I didn’t think twice. They wouldn’t sell it if it was dangerous right?! It is incredibly satisfying to hear, see and be responsible for the murders of those little fuckers. Obviously my paranoia made me use it on myself too, just as a precaution. Better safe than sorry. I recommend it for parents and to all the paranoid adults out there.