Shovel hampered

Two weeks ago I got hammered by a god fearing woman who disagreed with one of my articles. Normally I can extinguish the conversation with a certain amount of finesse, but she was relentless and beat me to a pulp morally, which dictated I remind her who she is, and who I am and the differences between people and lifestyles and how ye shall not be judged, lest ye be judged yourself.

She called me a whore,
I called her a mindless lemming following a righteous path of tithe.
She told me I would go to hell,
I told her I'd eat the Devil's ass and set my Outlook timer for said date of departure.

Furthermore lately I have been called many things, amongst them "whore" numberously. For this I feel the need to not necessarily defend myself, but lay waste and expect your opinion on exactly what you taste when you slice off a bite of my life.

I pause to say that sure - I live sex, I write sex, I am everything that personifies somebody that needs sex like nutrition, but... Whore? Really? You sure?

There seems to need to be a bit of reiteration in the Meltdown. Time to spit some truth, hope some of you don't fall out of your chairs.

First of all, no matter how many things weren't on my list from last week I can count the number of sexual partners I have had on my fingers and toes.... So I know that's twenty. I believe the correct number is 19.

Second of all, my husband and I are swingers sure, but we swing with one couple, two couples tops. I have never had sex with multiple partners and/or involved myself in a large group situation in which I played pivot girl (ever).

Third of all, I may frequent orgies and swinger parties but you need to understand that my lifestyle and my need to fufill my own deem of happiness comes in the fact that more so than anything this is my life after hours, this is who I am. That doesn't mean I'll grab a partner and hit a dark corner no no no.

If anything I do agree with my own mind that I, in fact, am selective. And am most likely to say no unless I trust in you and respect you as much as you respect me. Sometimes this foresight has been off, but ultimately I've tried to be as good as possible to those I covet in my sexual circle.

I am overly sexually educated and very often asked and/or needed to represent my prospective papers and groups via education and information. That means that not only am I a well, errr well known literotica author, but I also spit self-help, product reviews, porn review, and editorial for many many different publications.

Okay so once I have a dick in my hand I know what to do with it... This makes me a whore? Really?

Well I guess by some standards it does, but to my standards it says only that I know what I'm talking about and that I live in a strange world that not many understand. And I admit right now I have nobody to hold my hand on that in this strange blogger world....

Nobody to have my back, nobody to think other considering this is, in fact, a sexual type blog and I am a sexual person.

I guess...
I guess nothing, the drink is guessing for me.

On a completely different note, lets reflect on what's really important, and that's memorial day. While sitting in the movie theatre with my kids this weekend I overheard some jack-ass tell his girlfriend that memorial day was "to honor dead people or some shit like that."
I was ready to knock asshole's block off. Seriously people, if you don't know what Memorial Day is and what it is meant for please do some fucking research!!!

The kids and I went to my cemetary on Monday to honor those that have fallen in pursuit of freedom, or in this presidential term, stupidity. We placed flowers on the graves of the unknown soldiers and paid our respects.

I then spent some quiet time at the graveside of my grandfather and walked the cemetary peacefully, reliving the memories of his funeral, my childhood, and the feel of his very large hand in mine during picnics... patty cake on the patio... sunday morning cartoons and the Groovy Goulies while Gramps would argue that it was all garbage.

I realize I miss my Grandfather more now than ever.

THEN, I went to check out my $11,000 investment... My family grave plot I purchased back in February after it was decided I had until August (at most) to prepare for my demise.

Aint it purdy? Gated and all.
So glad to see they're keeping up the plot until my final rest of peace.

WHAT!?!?! I'm fucking proud of it!! I mean, I paid about as much as I would for a car for the bitch... I can take a picture and show it off if I want to!!
Besides, now if anyone wishes to visit, here's where you'll find me....

errr, right? Right, I'll go with that attitude for now.

So yeah, hell I guess you could say this was a day for remembering and anticipation for what's to come. I mean, I'm ready...

I got my will.
My preparations.
My grave.



Now all I need is this whore to die.

Happy Tuesday.