Tag Archives: Politics

Lez-Be Friends

Standard

I’m seriously considering becoming a lesbian. Why the hell not? Women seem to be an infinitely better option right now than men. I’ve already got my minions and, even if I don’t like it, I’m pretty good at killing my own bugs, so men are of limited usefulness to me at this point. Let’s ignore for a moment the fact that I am just not gay, as much as I wish I were, and that being gay is not a choice, so I really have no say in this matter. Aside from that, why the hell not?

Let’s take this from a practical, if ludicrously generalizing, perspective (haters, start taking notes here):

  • Women are better at multitasking, so they can, oh, you know, hold babies and text, take phone calls, or poop at the same time.
  • At least real kiwis ALWAYS taste good.

    Women are sexy most of the time, even when we don’t feel sexy, if only because society and marketing have programmed us to see women as sexual objects by barraging us with sexualized images of women 24/7, because “pretty is as pretty does.” Men, on the other hand, look like deflated kiwis that need to go down the disposal when they bend over naked in the bathroom. They can’t all be Northman or Tyler Durden. We can’t all be Cindy Crawford either, but somehow we’re still generally more attractive than they are. Maybe it’s because we aren’t likely to fart, pick our noses, grab our crotches, or be otherwise generally disgusting outside the aforementioned bathroom.

  • Women aren’t as afraid of their feelings as men. They like you or they don’t. They love you or they don’t. None of this, “Well, I really like you, and I want to fuck you, but let’s just keep it casual, k?” crap. The flip side of this has a lot to do with the third-date U-Haul jokes my gay girlfriends tell me. I used to think it meant lesbians do it in trucks on the third date, but apparently I was wrong.  Read the rest of this entry

Behind The Scenes At COASM

Standard

Hey, web dwellers. I really wanted to give you something special for our 2-month anniversary together, but if you can believe it, there’s no set list of anniversary gifts for site followers by month. Get married and they give you a list for the next 60 fucking years. But look for a blog list and you’re S.O.L. Go figure. Anyway, so I had to come up with something on my own. But I can’t give you all life-sized Eric Northman cutouts (because they’re MINE, ALL MINE!), and I really don’t want to spend more than, oh, anything, so I decided that last month’s “word jumble” image will become a tradition, and I’ll do it each month to see how it changes. Maybe that’s more of a gift to myself than to you, because only dorks like me would want to compare word jumble images from month to month, but you know, if you think about it, when I’m happy, I write more. And when I write more, y’all read more of this dirty, crazy lunacy that I call my life. So, yay. Happy anniversary to us. 

So I used the jumble generator, and here’s what it came up with:

What kind of crap is this? It's like they didn't even try! Not good enough for my web dwellers. Also, kind of weird emphasis on Northman, don't you think?

So I figured it was a fluke and I’d just try again. I mean, what are the odds it would do something similarly sufficient in making me seem creepily obsessed with Northman? The real-life one OR the TV one.

Yeah. So it gave me this. WTF?

Not as bad as the first, but still kind of fucked up if you think about it. Which I’m trying not to do. So I tried again. What can I say? I’m persistent.

Ok, how does this even count? "Northman" isn't even in the shape with everything else.

But I would not give up that easily. No. I would not be outdone and made to feel like some kind of whack-job stalker by an auto-word-generating website thingie. So I did it again.

This one is like an ink blot test that makes me think of sex, so I like it, but it's STILL got Northman ridiculously disproportionate to everything else.

And again….

They fit it all in the shape this time. I'll give 'em that.


And again…

Really?

Aaaand again…

Oh, sweet Jesus in Birks.

Yeah, and again.

How is this different from the last one?

I just would not fucking give up.

Maybe a little better, but also only because I was losing a grip at this point.

And finally, I got this:

My favorite and my gift to you. Or me. Whatever.

Here’s the thing, web dwellers, the jumbles are a hell of a lot like my blog. I generate something, and sometimes it’s awesome, and sometimes it’s a big, fat turd. But, apparently, there’s always some Northman in it, so ultimately, it’s awesome. Happy anniversary.

“Oh my God. You’re about to jibber jabber about jibber jabber.”

Standard

I wrote most of this earlier this week but didn’t finish until today, hence the outdated references. Way to go, me! Sorry, y’all. I had to be all responsible and crap; aka, I did work I actually get paid for. And it was nowhere near as fun as writing for you guys.

Today is some kind of Internet protest day with no Wikipedia and a bunch of dormant blogs. Politics, money, assholes, and legislation: Not a great combination. Anyway, I figure if I post today, y’all are more likely to read it, seeing as your options are so limited. Plus, I plan to take advantage of my freedom of speech while I still have it, because apparently we’re about to be de-Internet-ized back to the 80s. May as well buy a “beeper,” a 15-pound “car phone” with a shoulder strap, and some acid-washed jeans today so I can beat the time-warp shopping rush. Shit. Now I have to get dressed and leave the house to go shopping. Can’t order that crap on Amazon if there is no Amazon. Wow. I’m living in the Matrix. I think. Never did see that one.

Anyway…

Sheldon: Do you know where the phrase "Jibber jabber" comes from? Penny: Oh my God. You're about to jibber jabber about jibber jabber.

So, what is all this Internet-SOPA-PIPA jibber jabber? I gotta tell you, web dwellers, I try to stay well informed on most things, but on this one, I just have no fucking idea. Sometimes, there’s just so much going on that I kind of miss an issue du jour, and this is one of those times. So forgive me for having no actual info to share. I’ll just say this one thing. I believe in freedom of speech no matter who is doing the talking or what that person is saying. I believe that even the most depraved, homophobic, despicable, moronic, racist xenophobe has the right to climb up on his or her soapbox (Is that even a thing anymore? I bet people use plastic milk crates now.) and spout out a stream of verbal idiocy any time the mood strikes, so long as doing so isn’t likely to cause harm to others. That is, civil rights are relative: your civil rights extend just up to the edge of the point at which exercising those rights infringes on the rights of others.

I wonder if anyone still makes soapboxes. I kinda want one just so I can climb up on it in the grocery store and see what people do.

Ok, I think I said more than one thing (huge surprise). But you get my point. Freedom of speech is a right, not a privilege in this country, or, at least, it’s supposed to be. The way things are going, I’m starting to wonder whether those things we’ve long considered absolute rights are really all that sacrosanct to those in office anymore.

When Monstanto executives are being put into White-House-Appointed positions in the FDA and banks get bailed out while homeowners drown in debt, when we have a healthcare industry that pays no attention to the food industry (and a food industry that doesn’t care about our health), when access to well-rounded educational materials and appropriate sexual and reproductive information is limited or denied, when we actually have to discuss whether to present creationism alongside evolution in public schools when only one of those theories belongs in a science class while the other belongs in church (Why not teach creationism in home economics? It has no more or less business in there than it does in biology class.), something is seriously wrong with our society.

Perhaps we all had more time to think about these things back before the Internet, so we were better able to follow politics and keep better tabs on our legislators despite the comparative lack of information. Perhaps having to work to obtain that information made it feel even more important and urgent. I mean, think about it for a minute. What did you do with all the time you spend NOT on the Internet before there was an Internet to be on? Ok, that was convoluted. What I mean is, we’re grown adults living in high school via Facebook. Who does or says what to whom and when some pseudo-acquaintance defriended a colleague…? This shit was not on adults’ radars 20 years ago. Not even 10 years ago. But it’s a daily part of life now. And it feels important, even if a lot of it is only important because we participate. If no one used social media, we’d all live in the present more.

We didn't spend our time trying to out-smartass our phones in the 80s. I'm still not sure whether that's a point for the 80s or a point for the nows.

Without unlimited cell minutes and free long distance, we’d all invest ourselves more fully in the people around us, not the people in our “networks.” But that’s not how it is today. So we have daily life relationships with people who would, a mere decade or so ago, have been pen pals and twice-a-year phone contacts. We live outside our physical boundaries. We are overly invested in more than that which surrounds us. And it distracts us from the bigger picture. It keeps us so involved in our superficially expanded personal circles that we are too busy to get involved with and stay informed on the issues of the day.

Gilead looks a lot like North America if we were ruled by the Taliban. It scares the crap out of me.

On the other hand, an online-wifi-free-long-distance-instant-messaging life is exactly what enables me to connect with Northman and Jerry and all of you. Freedom of speech and lack of Internet censorship allow me to tell you that Northman sent me two new sexy videos of Quinn last week and that they were spectacular. You think a censored blogger could tell you she had mind-blowing orgasms watching videos of her long-distance lover having his own across the country? I sure as hell don’t.

 There’s bad shit on the Internet. Sure. But there’s good shit on here too. And the Internet brings the crazies together just as much as it connects the “normal” people. Not sure where my blog and I fall in that spectrum, but so be it. Until we’re living in Gilead, I’ll keep writing.

As usual, remember to comment here ↓ and both “like” me on Facebook and “follow” Confessions of a Sexy Mom here →. Thanks!

The Monthly Wrap Up: Because I’m too tired to come up with anything that original.

Standard

So, ok, end of our first month here at Confessions of a Sexy Mom, and I gotta tell you, web dwellers, you people are fucking awesome. I just love the heck out of you, and I’m in touch with my emotions enough to say so without having to go bench press or deep fry anything. Damn, I just love being a woman.

So, I figured I’d do a little monthly retrospective. A “confession-all” if you will (see how much lamer the jokes and puns are when I’m tired?), and I’ll toss in some random stuff I laughed at this month but, for whatever reason, didn’t post here earlier.

Heeeere we go.

Northman loves my drunken texts. Which is good, because with the blue-hairs around last month, there were plenty.

First, I saw this ( ←) yesterday and laughed my ass off. This is 100% a GREAT idea, and if you can keep your sense-of-humor hat on instead of going all, “Ooooh, that’s too ‘Big Brother’ if my phone knows I’m wasted,” then it’s pretty fucking funny.

Second, take a gander over yonder at the site hit numbers →. Oh, yeah. That’s more than 2,000 hits in a month. THAT is a blog-gasm. I’m super excited. Now let’s just get some more fans on the Facebook page so people will know when there’s something new here.

Numero Tres: Did you know if you go to the WordPress home page and select “topics” and then type in “fucking” that you’ll find some really freaky crap? Well, shit, searching for “sexy” or “Northman” wasn’t yielding great results, so I went the other direction. I thought maybe I’d find some blogs like mine with some random sexiness in there. Uh, no. Warning! If you don’t want to know what “fisting” is, DO NOT TRY THIS SEARCH. Wow. A lot has changed since I was last out there, people. A fucking lot has changed.

And Four: I found this neat site that lets you make graphic representations of relevant words on your site. I don’t know what people really use this for, but I thought it was neat, and here’s what I made. Didn’t even need to paint any macaroni!

Cinco de Awesome-o: Damn, that would have pissed my high school Spanish teacher off big time. No sense of humor. Anyway, this ↓ is what I posted this month in no particular order (and in kind of a mess because I don’t have a hell of a lot of control over the formatting here), not counting just little crap like a poll and letting y’all know I’m on Facebook. Which I am. And you should be too.

Six…more months until True Blood Season Five, so here’s one of my favorite scenes from Season Four, which I just rewatched because there’s so much Northman sex. Oh, Pam. I thank Mr. Coffee for whomever cast you and made your role so much bigger in the show than the books.

Also… A shout out to Karen B., Liesel B., Rebecca Z., Nicole S., and Tara C. for all your super funny posts on the Facebook wall!! Y’all are hilarious, ladies!! Keep it up, gals!!

And Now, A Message From Mr. Northman

Taking One For The Team

Elves, Men, Monkeys, and MartinisThe 12 Hours of Christmas

JPAMDD

The Versatile Blogger Award.

You People Need Help.

This Is Why Republicans Fear Me

I Sound My Barbaric Yawp Over The Roofs Of The World.

It's Always The Guy With The Panel Van

Did I Miss Something Here?

Blog-gasms

Shaved Pussies Are For Pussies

There Isn't Enough Purrell On The Planet For This Shit.

You're Just Coitusing With Me, Aren't You?

“I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.”

Standard

I made this huge mistake this morning. I sat down to eat my Special K and non-fat milk (yeah, web dwellers, the holidays were not good for my ass-shrinking efforts, but at least I’ve gone shopping so I wasn’t eating whatever passes for marshmallows in Lucky Charms), and I turned on what I thought was some fairly innocuous morning blather: The Today Show. I figured Ann and Matt would be cooking some sort of crap in five minutes that would take most people three hours, then Al would make some self-deprecating joke, somebody would kiss a baby, and I’d be done with my cereal and ready to get to work. But, no.

What happened to childbirth being the "great equalizer" among women? There was a fucking kitchen in the suite where this kid was born. Seriously? What? Are you cooking up some placenta, weirdos?

First, Matt Lauer interviewed a woman whose baby girl has been missing for a month and grilled her about her baby’s father as if he’d already been convicted of killing this poor sweet child. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Ann then interviewed a couple who were kept from seeing their NICU-bound premature twins because Beyoncé and DJ Jibbity Jabber or whateverthefuck that dude’s name is decided to shut down a hallway for some kind of catered lunch for their plant-name-bearing offspring. [Side Rant: If you’re going to shell out half a billion dollars to give birth in some kind of Ritz Carlton Birthing Haven, why not take that money, build a stocked clinic in your 25,000 square foot monstrosity of a mansion, and hire some medical staff to manage your pseudo-home-birth there? Then you can have whatever kind of idiotic camera-blocking Robocops you want trolling the halls and you don’t have to piss off the whole country doing it. While you’re at it, consider not naming your child something really fucking stupid. Picking an actual NAME would be a good start.] Then there was some crap about yet another Republican presidential candidate who was doing something or someone he shouldn’t, and then there was, thank God, a commercial (Really, State Farm? Using the Cheers theme song? What is that about?), which snapped me out of my TV trance long enough for me to shut that thing off and get my ass to work.

But work was really no better. I took a “break” (aka: I was procrastinating) and went on Facebook, only to see a story about how people in India are having selective abortions and committing mass infanticide to rid their families of baby girls because dowries are too expensive and girls don’t bring the family any money when they marry. What. The. Fuck? I’ve got news for people in India: if no one has girls, all those boys are going to be pretty fucked when they grow up, and not in the good way.

That's Walt Whitman, web dwellers, not Robin Williams in "Dead Poets Society." But that's pretty good too.

Then I saw in my newsfeed that one friend was in the hospital, another’s kid broke a limb and a lamp in the same incident, and yet another had experienced a death in the family. Jiminy Freaking Cricket, web dwellers. I closed my eyes for a moment and let the thoughts just swirl around in my overloaded brain, trying to picture my mind as a colander that could sift out all the bad stuff and let it come out as one barbaric yawp that might scare anyone in a 40-foot radius but would at least get this horrible, unthinkable shit out of my brain.

That did not work.

In fact, if anything, my self-indulgently strangled yawp made me aware that there is no escaping this 24-hour-news-cycle of a world we live in at the moment. The Internet is here. Cable TV is here. And that shit’s not going away. So, I suppose, the only choice we have is to decide how we’re going to deal with the resulting info-overload. For me, I think I’ll try to remind myself that many, if not all, of these things would be happening whether they belonged to the collective consciousness or not. We just know about it now because CNN needs enough crap to keep their advertisers happy 24/7/365 (or this year, 366).

Missing children, self-important celeb-stitutes, genocide, male-prostitute-fucking “conservative” political candidates, dishonest politicians (redundant, I know), famine, war, and just straight-up stupid assholes … these things have pretty much always been around. There was a time when we didn’t have to know about it all. We could bury our heads like so many ostriches and not read The New York Times if we wanted to live in our bubbles. But I gotta tell you, web dwellers, that bubble has burst. And it does appear as though we’ve landed in a big pile of craptasticness.

So, instead of loathing the Internet, and cable TV, and the swirling vortex of Monsanto-polluted-cropland that used to be our planet, I’ve got a better idea. I’m going to use the means at my disposal (my laptop, my words, my Wi-Fi) to continue to bring you people as many laughs and smiles and ideas for shit to try with your sex partner(s) as I possibly can. Because we all need that these days. After all, it’s only going to get worse. It’s an election year.

P.S. As usual, remember to comment here ↓ and both “like” me on Facebook and “follow” Confessions of a Sexy Mom here →. Thanks!

P.P.S. It should be illegal to have major elections during a Leap Year. With all the damn campaigning, money wasting, and mud-slinging, a regular year is (by far) long enough.

This is Why The Republicans Fear Me

Standard

So I called my girlfriend Penny the other day, and we’re talking, you know, mom crap, work, the usual. When I think about it, I’m still pretty stunned that we’re so close, seeing as she’s a conservative Christian republican and I’m a potty-mouthed liberal whose only form of religion involves worshipping my Mr. Coffee in the morning, For Thou Art Goooood, Mr. Coffee. Praised Be.

Just goes to show that friendship knows no bounds. Case in point: I’m still friends with Penny when I KNOW she voted for George Bush. What? Not recent enough for you? Fine. I’m pissed that she voted for John McCain, too. I mean, ok, I’m happy she voted in the whole “we all have a moral obligation to vote, so get your ass out there and do it,” sense of the thing. But I’m less pissed that she voted for John McCain because he hadn’t already had four years of screwing the country nine ways from Sunday when he was last on the ballot, whereas we already knew exactly what we could expect from that last POTUS.

Anyway, we pretty much just don’t talk politics unless it’s an election year, and even then, we keep it to sincerely asked, respectful questions about one another’s viewpoints. Well, she asks, and I answer. I don’t ask, because there’s just no answer that would convince me to vote for someone who thinks corporations deserve the same rights as people, homosexuals are pedophiles with bestiality tendencies who shouldn’t even be allowed to have sex let alone marry one another (aka, the Fox “News” position: If we let gays marry, they’ll have license to prey on our children and next we’ll all be marrying dogs and snakes), or that it’s remotely appropriate for abortion to be a political issue.

Really? How about we outlaw vasectomies and make cheating on your wife punishable in court? Oh, sorry. What you do with your body is between you and your doctor? And what’s that? Your marriage is your business and not the court’s? No shit. That’s why liberals believe in abortion rights and keeping the government out of our bedrooms so long as whomever is in there is a consenting adult. I will never, ever forget hearing a political pundit accuse John Kerry of thinking “partial-birth abortion is a good thing,” because Kerry wouldn’t outlaw late-term abortions without provisions in the law for the health and welfare of the mother. No one, NO ONE thinks partial-birth abortion is a “good thing.” In fact, most liberals I know aren’t particularly fond of the whole abortion concept and wouldn’t choose that option themselves. But they stand by a woman’s right to choose, just as they vehemently support the right to free speech, even when that speech is being given by someone as despicable as Rick Santorum.

Never Googled “Santorum,”? Yeah. Take a sec and do that. This is how liberal nerds get revenge on self-righteous assholes.

Anyway, as usual, I digress. I was on the phone with Penny, and she said, “So what did you do this morning?” and I said, “First I dropped the kids off at school, stopped for coffee, and then I had unbelievable Skype sex with Mr. Northman.” (Ok, we don’t call him Mr. Northman, but he does have a nickname between the girls, and since all names and nicknames on my site are changed for obvious reasons, I’m picking another nickname here that adequately captures – for True Blood fans, anyway – exactly how fucking sexy this man is. My blog, my rules, bitches.)

Exactly.

Penny: “You did WHAT?!?!” (This is why I love her. She’s so easy to freak out.)

Me: “I had crazy awesome Skype sex with Mr. Northman. Holy crap that man has stamina.”

Penny: “Wait, what do you mean? Like, typing?”

Me: “Oh, well, at first. But then, you know, I wanted to see, so we switched to video.”

Penny: “You did the what you had a wait I… what?!?!!”

Me: Laughing, “Um, what?”

Penny: “Holy mackeroley,” (she says shit like that, I swear).

Me: “That about sums it up, yeah.”

Penny: “HOLY MACKEROLEY!!”

Penny’s three-year-old, audible in the back seat of her car: “Holy mack-oly, Mommmy!” Holy mack-oly!!”

At that point, I about lost my mind laughing at her toddler chiming in (thank Mr. Coffee she’s smart enough NEVER to put me on speaker when there are kids around), and I laughed so freaking hard I had tears rolling down my face fucking up my mascara, but it was worth it.

Penny: “Ok, wait. I gotta go drop the munchkin off at pre-school, so I’m pulling up to the church. When I get out, I want to hear all about this.”

Me: “Let me get that straight: When you get out of the church from dropping off your toddler, you want to hear details of how I did a strip tease for Mr. Northman while he did his — really impressive — business on webcam?”

Penny: “Crap, you’re right. That’s messed up. I’ll wait until I get to the mall, and then call you back. Neutral ground.”

And that’s why I love that woman.