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The Golden Age of Blogging
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May 17, 2012 12:38 pm
244 Views
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If you’ve been blogging regularly for a relatively long time like I have (and I consider 3 years blogging here as the equivalent to 10 years on any other blogging site mostly because a couple months in this place feels like a fucking lifetime  ) you can look back on certain times as your own personal Golden Age of Blogging. Those are the times when you had so much fucking fun with your blogging buddies you practically lived online because you didn’t want to miss out on any of the chaos. Today  post What.In.The.Fuck?!?! about being prayer spammed brought me right back to that time.
My Golden Age of Blogging was about 2 years ago (I think…blog-time seems almost elastic so it may have been more like 2 and a half…who the fuck knows and it’s really not all that vital to the story anyway, so who cares?) I blogged with a lot of people, but I had this crew of partners in blog-crime that I had insane amounts of fun with (still do with some of them…and you fuckers know who you are  …some are no longer around, some I’ve drifted away from and a couple I had falling-outs with…no big deal though, that shit happens, here and in RL  ). One of the things from that time that stands out clearly in my mind was the Hot Asshole Heathen Posse.
I can’t remember exactly how it started…it had something to do with another blogger who found us highly offensive for moral and religious reasons (because a sex site is, after all, the BEST place to condemn things like bisexuality and group sex, and look for a fine, god-fearing virgin wife, amongst other things ) and decided to launch his religious rhetoric in our direction. Bit of a mistake on his part, I’d say and out of the fiery ashes of his ravings that we were all going straight to hell, the phoenix that was the Hot Asshole Heathen Posse rose up. And we decided if we were going to hell, we were gonna travel in style and take as many people with us as possible.
We wrote sex stories that were fucking horrifying and hilarious. We started Blasphemy Sunday (an entire day devoted to posting pics that made fun of every religion on the planet). We planned detailed BBQs in hell…potato salad and orgies for everyone! We publicly propositioned each other in some of the most weird and blatant ways possible. We pretended the whole Posse were related to each other and started with incest jokes. In short, not only did we prove that if there is a hell, we would all gleefully be making the trip, but also planned to take over the VIP section there and party our heathen asses off. And I’m not kidding when I tell you the joking over this went on for months. And we did this because we all found it to be fucking ridiculous to be condemned and crazy-ranted at for being a bunch of evil sinners when the person doing the ranting WAS ON THE SAME FUCKING SEX SITE. Oh, the irony…it was way too fucking awesome to pass up. And we had way too much fun with the heathen shit for a very long time.
We did a lot of other crazy shit too…there were blog hijacks, group IMs, gross-out wars, blog take-overs, roasts and all kinds of shit that was just fun as fuck. I’m still here because I continue to have fun with the people I blog with, but those times have a fond place in my memory forever. Good times, man...good fucking times
What was part of your Golden Age of Blogging? Was there any particular time here you had so much fucking fun you still laugh your ass off when you think about it now?
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13
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The Shit Show: Banking edition
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May 16, 2012 7:44 pm
363 Views
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I pride myself on having a fairly uneventful, quiet life for the most part (stop laughing, it’s fucking true ). Small shit crops up and it can’t be helped, but on the whole, I like my shit to be fairly calm and even-keeled with minimal avoidable drama. The exception to this is Asshole and he fully admits I am the only consistent oasis of calm and normality in his otherwise chaotic life. Which totally cracks me up because you know it must be a fucking gongshow of massive proportions for anyone to consider me an oasis of anything even resembling normality
Most of the time we refer to the rest of his social life as “The Shit Show”. Because his friends are all fucked in the head. I really wish I was exaggerating but I am not. None of these people have any sense of time (their own or anyone else’s), boundaries or really, any fucking sense at all. The worst offender who has well-earned the title of “The Shit Show of Epic Proportions” is his friend Assholier (who is like Asshole but minus about 75% of the redeeming qualities and all his worst qualities times a million). Since we started dating Asshole has hardly seen Assholier at all which is a VERY good thing. It’s not that I dislike Assholier…I really quite like him when he’s not fucking up his own life, but I don’t need him dragging my boyfriend into some of the horrendously fucked up shit he’s gotten himself into. So their contact has been minimal in the last 5 months, but they’ve been friends since high school and Asshole still feels an obligation to help him out once in a while.
Today Asshole spent the entire fucking day (ALL fucking day…from 9 AM to 4:30 PM) trying to help Assholier with a financial issue at the bank and it sounded like the shit show to end all shit shows, but it wasn’t without entertaining moments either, such as:
Assholier scaring the fuck out of a kid in a parking lot…quoting Asshole:“Assholier is just a fucking mess…big black eye, hair sticking out everywhere, hasn’t shaved in at least 3 weeks, eyes bugging out of his head, wearing pyjama pants…he looked like he just got out of the asylum…the poor kid looked like he just saw Satan or something”
Assholier jumps out of a moving vehicle in the middle of an intersection and then disappears for an hour. The person giving him a ride is nice enough to drive around looking for him but gives it up as a lost cause after a few minutes. As she should. Because it is.
Needing a dollar to use the computer at the library, Asshole fails spectacularly at panhandling while Assholier stands 10 feet away, pretending not to know him. He banged out a song on a garbage can while dancing and was outraged no one would give him any money. I told him I was surprised no one paid him to stop.
While using the library computer (thanks to a sympathetic librarian who let them use a computer for a half hour for free. Probably to just get them the fuck out of there as fast as possible) Asshole hears someone whistling, gets highly annoyed and starts hunting down the offender, ready to start punching. Until he realizes the whistler “has Tourettes or something like that and apparently he couldn’t not whistle”. Then feels terrible about the almost-punching part. Assholier suggests this might be a good time for another Fireball break
Assholier visits the bank no less than FIVE times and forgets EVERY TIME to ask the vital question that would have ended this whole fucking thing in about 20 minutes.
Assholier opens 3 new bank accounts at 3 separate banks over the course of the day. Because he thinks it will help achieve his goal. Which had nothing to do with needing a new bank account in the first place. By bank account #2 Asshole swears he can see Assholier’s IQ dropping by the minute and it’s not a pretty sight.
A half hour before the bank closes, they decide they’ve accomplished nothing and should probably give up for the day. Also, they’re out of Fireball. So Asshole doubles Assholier home on his bike. While drunk. With Assholier sitting on the handlebars.
I have never been so fucking glad I was at work and witnessed none of this. Except for the panhandling, which I would have gladly paid a dollar to see
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12
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Purse challenge accepted
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May 16, 2012 10:21 am
482 Views
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The lovely Miss  wants to know what the fuck lurks in the depths of your purse…see Vixn's Purse!!! to view the…ahem…unusual…contents of hers
This challenge made me slightly nervous because I hardly ever clean out my purse and tend to throw shit in there for it never to surface again. So here’s what I found when I dumped it out:
Blackberry (which you can’t see because I’m using it to take the pic)
Wallet
Sunglasses
2 lighters
Cigarettes
2 warning labels from the inside of cigarette packs that warn you of the horrors of smoking
BGF’s CAA card
Birthday card from BGF
Tictacs
2 cough drops, unwrapped and likely ancient
Car/house/work keys
A set of other keys that I have no fucking clue what they open
Bus schedule from 2010
Cable bill from June 2011
Asshole’s EI money (to be doled out in a little bit at a time…he prefers I keep his money so he won’t spend it all at once)
Asshole’s contact lens case
Plastic icicle Xmas ornament ( for self defense? Anal probing? Who the fuck knows?)
Lip gloss
Rescue Remedy Spray
Memory chips from Asshole’s old blackberry and camera (which have WAY too many dirty vids and pics on them. And no, you may not see them )
17 cents
Salsa recipe
Tampon (which I have no use for anymore...YAY!!)
Old receipts
Corkscrew/bottle opener/knife with a 2 inch blade (good for wine opening or shallowly stabbing someone…between that and the plastic icicle, I am fucking ready for attackers)
What’s the strangest thing in your purse?
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14
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It's still been too nice out to fucking blog
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May 15, 2012 7:57 am
688 Views
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It's been busy times around the Pussy Palace lately and I feel less like blogging and more like getting outside to enjoy the fact we are actually experiencing spring instead of month 6 or 7 of monsoon season. Also I finally went back to work yesterday and I don't think I've ever gotten up in the morning and thought "YAY, I get to go to work today!!!!" without some amount of sarcasm thrown in. I'm sure the work euphoria will wear off soon, but dammit it's good to be back at the nuthouse (and I say that in the most affectionate way)
My kiddo comes home today too and things with Asshole have been relatively smooth, so life doesn't get a lot more satisfying. Which all adds up to me not having a fuck of a lot to blog about at the moment. But don't worry...I'm sure I'll come up with something to complain/laugh about soon enough. Eventually. Especially when it starts raining again
Do you find you blog less at certain times of year? Does blogging sort of go in a cycle for you?
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15
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That’s how rednecks celebrate Mother’s Day. With vodka and target practice
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May 13, 2012 8:40 pm
962 Views
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I had a GREAT day yesterday hanging out with BGF. Her ex-hubby (that she’s back together with despite their divorce…long story) took us and her kids out for lunch at our favourite restaurant…it was a beautiful day and we sat out on the patio eating and drinking for about 3 hours. Then we went back to her place, got a little shittered and decided that was an excellent time for some target practice with the pellet guns.
BGF and I were laughing about this last night because had Asshole been there, he would have freaked out that anyone let me near a weapon of any kind. I suppose he’s got good reason for that…he’s watched me accidentally stab myself in the hand with a hunting knife 10 seconds after picking it up, witnessed me almost shooting myself in the foot with a crossbow and grudgingly allowed me to shoot him in the leg with a paintball gun. And a pellet gun. That was for fun though.
So when I showed him the pics this morning, his reaction was slightly predictable:
Him: They let you play with a gun? Why? WHY????
Me: Calm down, they were pellet guns and we were shooting cans…it was fun!
Him: Dude, you should not be allowed near anything that can be shot or stabbed with….especially when you’re drinking
Me: Excuse me but whose idea was it to set up a wall of beer cans in your kitchen and then have a shooting contest for drinks? INSIDE YOUR KITCHEN.
Him: That was different. I was there to supervise and make sure you didn’t shoot your eye out. Or my eye out. Also? You and BGF shooting together? I’m surprised you guys didn’t decide to shoot each other, just to see how much it would hurt.
Me: I’m pretty sure that’s why the guns got put away before too long…D knows exactly how stupid we both have the potential to be
Him: Thank fuck for small favours
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15
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It's too fucking nice out to blog
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May 11, 2012 5:12 pm
1382 Views
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Spring has finally arrived here and Asshole and I have been taking advantage of the nice weather the last couple days...today we hiked down to one of the local rivers. The water level is surprisingly low, given the mountains still have a shitload of snow on them.
It may look nice, but that water is cold as fuck...I stuck my hand in and immediately got hypothermia
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16
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Romance, shromance
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May 8, 2012 4:08 pm
2017 Views
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So the Sexstravagnaza Tuesday I was plotting did not pan out so far…Asshole has been tied up doing job-search type of shit most of the day (and no fucking way I’m gonna complain about that…he’s got a promising line on an oil rig job, so all body parts crossed that comes to fruition) and I’ve had one motherfucker of a headache that only went from heinous to tolerable with handfuls of advil and a 2 hour nap.
As I sit here, beer in hand (if alcohol won’t kill what’s left of this headache, nothing will), I’m thinking maybe I should be a little more proactive about injecting some romance-type shit into our sex life. Which is difficult. Because neither of us are what anyone would consider traditionally romantic. There really are no hearts and flowers and declarations of undying love. We are far more likely to banter insults back and forth than to whisper sweet-nothings. We spend more time trying to put each other in a headlock than cuddling. Probably the most seductive we’ve been is when I gave him a naked lapdance then he wrestled me to the floor and fucked me with my arms pinned over my head. Which was fucking awesome. Then there was the time he had me pinned to the couch and pretended he was going to drool in my mouth and accidentally did. So I retaliated by spitting in his mouth (which btw he dared me to do. And fyi: don’t dare me to do shit like that. Because I will). Which ended with us having sex. Because the spitting was kinda disturbingly hot.
See what I mean? Not very romantic. And a little fucking weird too.
I suppose it’s not that we aren’t romantic at all…we just have our own brand of romance. Like I’d love to go rent us a hotel room because that’s probably our favourite romantic kind of thing to do…some of the best sex we’ve had has been hotel sex. A couple times in the past we’ve driven up to Campbell River for the night, rented a room at the only hotel on the island with theme rooms (hella fun, btw…our favourite is the Safari Room), gone out to the strip club and come back to the room for a sex marathon that takes a few days top recover from. However finances are not permitting so I’d like to come up with something creative and fun that doesn’t cost money. And the only thing I’ve come up with so far is sexual FUBAR ( a drinking game with cards that we customized for sexual shit instead of drinks). I’d like us to have a fun evening that resembles something with romance in it, partly because we should do this kind of shit on a regular basis and also because I want to do something nice for him because he took such good care of me after my surgery. But our style of romance. Which is to say kind of anti-romance.
Any suggestions?
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21
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A walk in the woods
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May 7, 2012 3:10 pm
2178 Views
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I got off my ass today and left my apartment. Because I cannot stand sitting around doing sweet fuck all any more. So I went and picked up Asshole and we had a really nice day together. We picked up a bottle of Fireball and went for a walk down by the river…very nice and scenic and we both cracked up when we stumbled on this picnic table in a clearing that we both used to drink and smoke pot at in our teen years.
We’re walking on a path next to the river and Asshole starts reminiscing…
Him: Hey, that’s the cliff I jumped off of when I had a broken ankle and went swimming with a cast on my foot!
Me: I’ve heard this story before…didn’t you cut the cast off with bolt cutters and a hacksaw after?
Him: Yep. I got drunk and got in a fight with some guy half my size and he knocked me out. Apparently I got up and kept partying all night. Then the next day my ankle was killing me so I finally went to the hospital. And then 2 weeks later I went back and demanded they either cut the cast off or I would. So you know what happened then.
Me: You’re a dumbass, you know that, right?
Later, in the woods…
Him: Oooo…look at that tree…I’m gonna climb it!
Me: Have at it, monkeyboy…those bushes should cushion the fall
Then later I almost had him convinced to have sex in the woods until some guy walked by with his dog. Asshole then decided it is too soon post-surgery for sex and demanded I go to the doctor tonight to get a note giving me the ok…
Me: I’m telling you, I’m all good. And I am NOT giving you a doctor’s note. That is the dumbest thing I ever heard in my life.
Him: I refuse to be the guy who fucked his girlfriend then she died from it
Me: First off, no one will die..I may be sore after but you cannot kill me with sex. Although I kinda hope you put in that sort of effort. And second of all, fuck YOU, if you fucked me to death you’d brag about that for the rest of your life
Him: This is true. And fuck you. No doctor’s note, no sex. That is IT. I’m putting my foot down
Me: Yeah, we'll see how long that will last…I haven’t even tried yet. You have no self control, and believe me…tomorrow, I will be using that to my advantage
Him: You’re an evil bitch
Me: I know. You’re welcome
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11
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I don’t think I recommend this
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May 6, 2012 12:28 pm
2512 Views
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There’s a salon/spa in London that’s offering “an organic bull sperm treatment fresh from an Aberdeen-Angus bull on a Cheshire farm” as a conditioning treatment for your hair.
That’s right. Fucking bull semen. In your hair. As conditioner. For which you pay $138.
For bull spunk. In your fucking hair. I felt that bore repeating. Because of the bull semen. In your hair.
Ok, first? If I want semen in my hair? I will ask Asshole to oblige. Which he won’t because he knows far better (if it ain’t going in my mouth, it’s landing somewhere on the neck down. Because I don’t do cum in my hair or anywhere near my eyes). And second? If I want farm animal semen in my hair I will go to a farm and steal some (btw, there is so much wrong with that sentence, I can’t even handle it) because no fucking way I would pay $138 for a bull’s 6-roper. For that matter I don’t even want to know who has the job of Head Bull Cum Collector at this farm in Cheshire. Do you need a veterinary degree or is it more like an animal fluffer? Either way, that is not something I’d be boasting about at my high school reunion, that’s for fucking sure.
As far as organic…how can bull cum not be organic? It’s fucking CUM for fucks sakes. Mind you, it’s definitely not vegan either…but neither is any cum when you think about it. Unless it’s cum from a vegan. Which would automatically make it vegan except humans are made of meat. But does that only matter if the person’s a cannibal?
Fuck, now I’m confused. And have an overwhelming urge to wash my hair
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17
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Flirtation failure
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May 5, 2012 8:02 pm
2840 Views
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I figured something out today.
I am really fucking terrible at flirting. Seriously. I suck.
So I was bored out of my mind and went to work to visit my boss and ended up suggesting he take off for a bit between clients and I’d hang out and answer the phone and shit because really, there is no difference sitting at home on my ass and sitting at work on my ass.
Then a guy came in for a haircut…and yes, I know I’m not supposed to be working yet but fuck it, guys haircuts are easy and take no time at all. And I could use the money. Anyfuckingway, I’m cutting his hair and we’re chatting away and he’s cute and then it hits me: I think he’s flirting with me. And I’m doing a shitty job of flirting back.
Herein lies the problem…anytime anyone flirts with me in what would be considered a normal manner, I’m like a fucking deer in the headlights. Somewhat subtle, complimentary flirting either a) flies right over my head because I think being married for so long I just continue to assume no one is interested, b) makes me suspicious because I’m paranoid and spend far to much time questioning motives or c) makes me cynical because I’ve spent too long on this site and seen every type of sycophantic type of behaviour that is designed for the sole purpose that all roads lead to getting in someone’s pants, if you suck up and act like a fucking agreeable sheep for long enough. Not that this last one ever really works but I’ve seen it enough it makes me vomit in my mouth and die a little inside every time I witness it. So not only does regular flirting not seem to work so well on me, I can’t even remember how to flirt back when it does.
I have no idea when exactly I forgot how to flirt. Not that I was ever all that good at it because even way back when, my flirting skills were always verging on non-existent or inappropriate. Now I’m to the point where I feel like a fucking idiot when I attempt to flirt like a normal person, so I mostly can’t be bothered…I either change the subject rather abruptly or start babbling about something like ear sex because I DON’T FUCKING KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO. Ok so shit like ear sex is fucking funny and I’m way more comfortable cracking a joke or saying something stupid because humour is my default, especially in situations where my only other option is to stare blankly and look like a moron. Smooth I am not.
So what do I do today when the cute guy flirts? I first do nothing, because I have no fucking clue the conversation actually went there. Then when it becomes more obvious he’s flirting I get suspicious he’s trying to distract me so he can rob me when I’m done his haircut. Then I decide robbing the salon in broad daylight is likely not on his mind so I fall back my tried-and-true method of changing the subject to something completely unsexy like my kid and the mountain of dirty laundry he generates. All while the voice in my head is yelling at me “you fucking idiot, he’s just flirting with you…why are you bringing up your fucking LAUNDRY???? Flirt back, flirt baaaaack dumbass!!!”
Then I changed the subject to baconaise.
It’s sad. Really, it is.
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26
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Well I know I’m turned on now
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May 4, 2012 8:15 pm
3069 Views
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I was just watching some of the Chicago Blogger Bash on cam (AWESOME to see everyone and they look like they’re having a hella good time!) and goodfuckingchrist, now I remember why I hate camming…some of the comments from people watching are just fucking idiotic. By far my favourite was this gem:
“I want to tongue-punch you in the fart box”
Sweet. Raptor. Jebus.
REALLY????
Also, some guy is spamming his phone number. I suggest anyone who sees it, start prank calling him immediately. I’m pretty sure he’d appreciate 5631 phone calls asking if he’s interested in having his taint slathered in baconnaise.
If you hurry, you might still be able to view some of the fun live on cam
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15
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To link to this blog (dirtygirl411) use [blog dirtygirl411] in your messages.
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