I have always been what I call “brutally honest”.  I rarely hold back an opinion and will rant passionately about people, things, places, events… And yet I also rarely vent in the heat of the moment.  I rarely get angry or upset and spew out the words that are roiling around in my head.  I

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I?  Have a depression on. It’s December 19th and my tree isn’t up yet, nor are there any garlands or snowmen or twinkling lights in my house. I’m doing it today.  That Teen is with his gramma for the weekend so I’d like him to come home to some Christmas spirit but I just… I’m

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n the real world, you can have a good reason – or even a flimsy excuse – once in awhile. But if you do it every day, eventually people roll their eyes and think you’re full of shit and lazy.

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It shades me from the sun and allows me to sit out here with the laptop during the day, getting off my desk so I don’t feel all trapped and stuck in the same place, day after day, hour after hour. It gives me a place to sit, like tonight, in candlelight with a glass of wine and type away.

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I have a right to personal space and personal opinions. To BE a person.

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My most recent Twitter status: The voices are hollering at me for eating an entire 5 oz of Twizzlers. Must stab Twizzler in ear to shut them up.

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So I was sitting at the kitchen table, feeling all in tune with nature, watching the rain splash against my patio doors and run in racing rivulets down the glass…

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A soliloquy of cleaning info and anal warnings is just so much hot air when what I want to know is how good a SEX TOY works.

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Take that, template. I fucking win! I win. I win. I win. I kicked your cheap, shitty code having ASS.

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My facebook status reads “This being sick thing? It’s starting to suck ass. All week? Seriously? Fuck you, sick.”

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Put down the iPhone, turn off twitter, close your feed reader…

Shut it all down, shut it all off and go be good to yourself for an hour. You do not have to do that one more thing, take care of this one last item. Just… pause. You’ll thank yourself for it, I promise.

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Why is it so cool when “mean” guys do sweet things?

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Seriously stupid people, like low IQ, shuffling dolts, cant’ help that they’re stupid and I’m very tolerant. But when semi (or even fully) intelligent people act stupid? I get growly.

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Pulling my hair out, the blog is fuckered up. Read more to see how you can see new posts!

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So I was cruising around FetLife, looking for something to inspire a rant or some deep thought or…  whatever.  Cuz, yanno, life in the Taylor y puss casa has been damned quiet and normal and uneventful for a damned long time.  (For those who may not know, puss = me.  Taylor calls me puss)  And

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I’ve discovered that not getting enough sleep, getting interrupted sleep or even thinking I’m not going to get enough sleep is enough to turn me into a demon. I lash out while I’m sleeping at any touch, the slightest elbow jab, a pillow stuffed over on my side of the bed that doesn’t belong there,

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Ugh.  I haven’t written a "real" post in almost two weeks. Life has become exceedingly busy. Weekends are spent out and about, riding and enjoying the summer.  And the weekdays?  Work, work and more work. It’s been a long time since I put in anything resembling full time hours.  And even though I’m working from

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Holy shit, I have had a busy week.  From a busy weekend – other than Sit-Around-Sunday – right into a busy week. Work has gotten more intense as I take on a few extra responsibilities – not that I’m complaining! I have a dream jobby sort of thing!  But it’s left me with little time

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So I log in to FetLife today – which I no longer do each and every day cuz I’m flippin’ busy, man – and the first things I see on my front page? “People who think dog rape is a-ok” and “Another day, another shoot at Kink”. Wandering over to my groups I found “Is

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Well, I seem to be getting over my case of the sads.  Did much talking with the kid and with Taylor and we resolved quite a few things and, in general, felt better for having talked so life is good. I also got my new camera yesterday.  A new camera goes a long way toward

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Yanno… I had a blog post half typed out and I just deleted it. I got nothing really to say. My kid has completely fucked up his second semester of school.  He’s a good kid.  He’s just not all that fucking smart. In fact, he struggles with school and always has.  Unfortunately, this year he

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So last night I ran Taylor a bath loaded with bubbles, handed him an erotic book and left him to soak for a bit.  While he was in there, I scrambled around lighting a zillion candles (including a massage candle) in our bedroom and putting a soft red sheet over the regular bedding to protect

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So my kid… He spent half the semester working on this curio shelf thingy for me in woodshop at school. And someone STOLE it.  Took it off the shelf in the shop and walked out the door with it and probably gave it to THEIR mom. WTF? Who would DO that????????????

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Every time I see a discussion titled slave vs submissive, I damned near get lock jaw from clenching my teeth so hard. I am not about to get into the debate regarding what the difference is.  As far as I’m concerned, there freakin’ isn’t one.  Not in the way most folks mean when they talk

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So last year (there I go, doing it again.  I start so many blog posts with “so…”. It’s like I was in the middle of a conversation with y’all, got distracted and came right back to it like I never stopped. Heh) Anyhow.  Last year, Taylor saw some guy giving away a shed on Craigslist

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