Vixen's Sexual Revolution
In my never ending quest to be maintain this blog with as little effort as possible, I brilliantly conceived the idea of having a guest blogger. (I'm the first! Trust me!). But I didn't know where I'd find someone up to par with the intellectual prowess and whimsical wit to tickle all our funny bones. Alas, I was a drift in a sea of insipid writing and banal jokes.
In steps Vixen. Not only is her name terribly titilating, but her tales are equally so. Vixen writes the
Bad Girl's Guide which gives no holds barred advice to the sexcellent girls of the world dealing with dizzying endeavor of dating. I only discovered after my little piece on
The Fairer Blogs so of course I have to give her a guest spot.
Below is her post. If you happen to see any text that's really dumb and in this
color, it's mine. Feel free to heckle me and be kind to Vixen. So without further ado, I proudly present Vixen. (Yeah! Horraay! Cheers! Accolades! Accolades!)
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Well, this is the first time I've ever been invited to guest on someone else's blog. I know that most of us Bloggers are territorial; fiercely guarding our domains with a passion and persistence that belies the fact that it is actually just a tiny blip on the Internet radar. So for starters, I would like to thank my super cool host Mitesh (ain't that the truth!) for having the faith that I won't scare off his readers.
OK, now on to the gritty stuff. In his request, Mitesh wanted me to write something about me that isn't on any of my blogs. Being that I have four blogs and write about anything and everything under the sun, I really had to think about this one. Yeesh, I have to be all personal and stuff! Without further ado, let's delve into my Sexual Renaissance.
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First of all, I have to give you a back story to totally understand why I would even think the emergence of Vixen is anything to write home about. I was raised in a relatively loving home, and could get away with most of the childhood foibles. However, there was one thing that my parents made a BIG brouhaha about, on the advent of my Womanhood was, you guessed it, sex.
My dad is a minister in a very conservative church and it's been drummed into me since I was a teen the whole 'Virgin Until Marriage' philosophy. In fact, I'm sure that my parents would be able to handle me being a lesbian, marrying a guy they didn't approve of, landing in jail or any other number of things...but having SEX....oh my goodness, it would give my dad a heart attack.
If parents would just let their kids try and do everything they wanted to dabble in, it would remove the mystique of the 'taboo' and then their kids will end up in much less trouble!
Anyway, back to the story...I'm a silent Rebel. (not unlike ObiWan Kinobe or Han Solo-- alright that was gay, but) I don't openly oppose the system, I agree with the system and then go off and do whatever I want. So that is pretty much what happened. It took me a while to actually get up the nerve to rebel though...a loooong while.
I went through high school AND college clinging to the values that have been fostered in me. Sure, I dabbled in the forbidden fruit...having loooong makeout sessions with a few guys in college, but still never went all the way.
Meanwhile, I read voraciously, everything and anything that I could get my hands on. If it mentioned sex in any way shape, or form, I would read it and add it to my rapidly expanding knowledge.(She still has yet to share these with me.) I knew the technique...I knew what to do and was prepared for every step of the sexual evolution. I just didn't have the balls to do it yet.
I was 21, newly graduated from college and ready to try everything life had to offer. I had a dream job, my own place, was Miss Independent Diva with a sassy attitude who had pretty much tried all the no-nos at this point. All except one. (ahhh, the no-nos. I remember the first time I indulged in two gallons of juice for the first time. I was like a little humming bird that sucked netar from the sweetest of flower. But that's another story for another time. Be forewarned! The hangover is inconcievable.)
Anyway, I finally met some guy who charmed my pants off and I decided to take the plunge. I was sick and tired of being a Virgin, believe it or not. I felt that it was encumbering the full depths of my passion, and boy was I right.
You would think that having sex for the first time would tame the wild beast inside me. However, it was actually the opposite. I wanted more! It was like a drug. I actually feel sorry for my first lover (poor guy)...it was very hard for him to keep up with me. Not only did I have the knowledge of someone that had been screwing for a decade, I also had the naive innocence of a virgin.
After my first lover disintegrated...(turns out I WAS too sexual for him), I decided to actually take a step back from the whole sex thing. I mean, it's like a banquet...you eat at it voraciously at first, but after a while, you get...full.
Now, even though Lover One opened the doors to my Sexual Renaissance, it actually never really fully emerged until Lover Number Four. (Sorry, 2 and 3 couldn't keep up either).
This was actually about 4 years later. I'm a Libra, and Libras tend to be quite freaky in the bedroom. With Number 4 (who happened to be a Leo), he was quite freaky as well. AT LAST! I found a guy that wasn't afraid of too much sex, all the time, any time, anywhere.
Rumor has it the men tend to sexually peak in their 20s and women in their 40s. Leo was a couple of years younger than me, and it was with him that the Renaissance began. We tried everything and anything, handcuffs, different textures, role-playing, flavored condoms...you name it. He was up...I mean UP for anything and we were regular customers at the local neighbourhood sex shop.
Now, there isn't anything that I'm afraid to bring up in the boudoir. I am sexually confident, sexually aware and sexually liberated. And somehow...I think all this just adds to the allure.
Knowledge is power. The Renaissance still hasn't ended. But at least I can pinpoint where it began.
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Thank you Vixen. I hope you all enjoyed her little tale. It just helps to prove the age old adage: Sometimes when you really want to have fun, try out some flavored condoms. See it rhymes! It has to be true!
Peace all.
Long Time, No Post
"Mitesh, you haven't posted in a little while.
Get off my case man! Don't you see. It's all an illusion. This whole b-logging thing. It's not real, man.
Mitesh, have you been doing mushrooms again?
Mushrooms are for the weak! I'm drinking fairy dust."
So fairy dust has been the plight of my blog. I've realized that the better my life is, the less I want to talk to you. HA! No really. I don't have any excuses for not writing other than uninspired phraselogy, boring topics and sheer laziness. So now that I'm at the bottom of this bottle of fairy dust, I think I'm gonna start writing again.
I've come across a phrase I really like: "Unicorns and Ambrosia". Use it in a sentence you say?
"How's everything today, Mitesh?" ... "Everything's unicorns and ambrosia, man. Definitely U and A." This actually replaced my not too heralded and oft misused phrase of 'totally tits'. For some reason I'd always mess up it's usage. Like in the above "How's everything today, Mitesh?"... "Everything's totally tit. Thanks for asking." Is a very acceptable usage. But for some reason I always ended up in situations like this. "Mitesh, I heard your grandma died."... "Totally mutha-fuckin' tits!"
Not good. You tend to lose a lot of friends and befuddle family members.
I saw
Wolfmother this weekend. Sometimes I think rock and roll is dead. Then once a year or so I see a band and think... "Fuck yeah! These guys have testicles!"
Here's the basic recollection I have from the show.
Lead singer: Greatest fro ever (better than Napoleon Dynamite)
Bassist/Keyboadist: Jumps a lot
Drummer: No one ever loves drummers.
Lead Singer again (also neglected to mention he plays guitar): Are you playing guitar or just wailing hellasish tunes on your cock?
Bassist/Keyboadist: How do you not fall down or fly? Sometimes you make me feel like I'm in outer space when you tweak your sounds.
So Wolfmother ruled. But there was a group called "Krisis". The K makes them cool. Sometimes when you win the battle of the bands in high school you're not really that good. In fact, there's a good chance that people took pity on you because they thought that the lead singer was blind or a girl or something. But when you suck worse than the suckiest bunch of sucks that ever did suck, then you know you should get a job at McDonald's and really pursue your life long dream of not sucking. Whew! About 1/3 of the way through I wanted to gauge my eyes with a fork. But then when I could still hear them. Then I'd freak out because they'd still be the worse sounding than some bowel movements I've had... AND now I have no eyes. Not good.
That's pretty much my life. I hope you're enjoying. BTW, the girls at the show were plenty cute. Fun to flirt with. Even if it was only for a few minutes.
WikiWikiWhat?!?
I love
Wikipedia. It's my new source for everything I ever wanted to know from
Geometric Algebra to what a
schnorrers is. When it comes down to it, I love wikis.
I have started and failed many projects using a wiki. Not because of the wiki but because I suck. But wikis are powerful. They allow several people to add and organize content while tracking those changes all the while allowing quick formatting without having to know too much HTML.
I've used several wiki services in the past. Each range in price and service offered. I think the greatest part about wikis is the ease of use.
I've played around with PBWiki, Backpack (more than just a wiki), and StikiPad.
PBWiki was the first service I used. What I really liked about this it was really easy to get started. They have templates to get your look down and adding content in an organized manner was great. Also, there's a RSS feed to follow all the changes made and quick XML downloads of content. So you can walkaway with your project very easily. Oh! And I loved their sidebar. I found it very easy to link all content together in a nice little web.
More recently, I used
Backpack. Backpack is the slimmed down version of Basecamp by 37signals.
Signal vs. Noise is their insightful blog. And that's how I stumbled across Backpack. What I found really useful with Backpack is the functionality right at hand. I could add ToDo lists and forward relevant e-mails right to Backpack. Also, you get to edit the style sheets so your pages look all fancy. Kind of what I did with my background.
To be fair, I've just started playing around with
StikiPad. But it seems really neat. The editting control is the first thing that catches my eye. Any edits that get made are highlighted. If more than one person edits it since your last visit, StikiPad highlights in different colors for each author.
Each are very similiar and difficult to tell which is
best for you. Once you start to know how many people are working together and what type of involvement you need, then you can pick a system. It looks like Wikis are going to be an integral part of
Web 2.0. I'm sure there's more services out there. I'm not sure what's going to set these services apart. Maybe collaborating with other, already established project sites.
What do you think about wikis? Have you played around with either your own privately run or publicly adminstered wiki?
PS I told you the word blog was stupid!
Look! Everybody eJournal tonight!
HoboRun
In the tradition of the campy 80s movie,
Cannonball Run and with more humanitarianism than the maligned
Bum Fight, I declared the need for a HoboRun.
This friendly competition wouldn't be limited to only hobos, but all inclusive of the
entire drifting community. We'll include hobos, tramps and
schnorrers. Yeah, I know no one really expects a schnorrer to win, but hey we're equal opportunity here. Absolutely no bums allowed. They just wouldn't get it.
Now, I was going to include migrant workers, but because of tax reason we've got to restrain ourselves. See the prize at hand isn't your ordinary booty. No we won't just have an oversized check. Rather, we'll have cold hard cash. That's right. Denominations numbering in over $25.
Plus, we'll have swill. And plenty of it.
And not your ordinary swill brewed in a bathtub or moonshine. No this will be the highest quality whiskey brewed by our own Hobo Bob (pictured above). Hobo Bob has been brewing and bootlegging since the ripe old age of eight when his father use to sell to the local brothel. The recipe is generations old. Let me say this, its a delight to have Hobo Bob and the legacy he brings.
So the competition? Real simple. Get your way from NYC to LA by
Planes, Trains and Automobiles.
"Well, Mitesh. This is simple. All I have to do is pack myself into a box and have myself planed across country."
"My crafty friend. You are quite the thinker! I must say. But did you ever think that maybe they may stick you in the freezing underbelly of the plane? You wouldn't enjoy your swill if you were dead."
"Ha, ha, ha! That's cold. I get it now!"
So be careful how you get there. But there are no rules in this competition. Except if we find any Yeggs they will immediately disqualified. This is dignified competition. Please have some restraint.
To all: Have a wonderful competition and see you in LA.
Men of Passion
Thursday night I subwayed myself into the East Village to catch Woody Allen's "
Match Point". I have a
little thing for Scarlett Johansson.
Yeah, I thought she was cute in
"Lost In Translation" and quirky in
"Ghost World". But I never really gave her a second glance till I read her interview in Life magazine.
They asked her what she considered sexy. Now I can't recount word for word what she had to share, but what really stuck with me was she found weird things sexy. That's when I found her sexy.
Yeah, everyone looks at her and sees those amazing lips and those deeply seductive eyes. But only a handful of people have made her laugh so hard that she snorts. Or how she looks when she has to really pee. Or the way she greets strangers or handles a man whose flirting with her. Those little things, the weird things are sexy.
So besides my little thing for Johansson, I've heard over and over that this is a quality movie. With my appetite whetted, I trekked off to see this movie.
I really enjoyed the movie, but there's this moment in the movie where Chris, the protagonist, is asked "What do you want to do?" in regards to his life. "What do you want to do?"He knew what he didn't want to do: tennis, office job. But he never really had a passion in his life. Nothing to focus his energy on and create. But he does know this much, it has to be passionate. Out of the ordinary! What's really great, and where he was really lucky, is he had two women to symbolize these two lives. One, the emotionally unstable, but adventurous: Nola. And one, the daughter of a rich man, the ever stable and safe: Chloe. (By the way, both are very, very cute.)
So here he is: Safety or adventure? And he chooses? Hmmmm... Well watch the damn movie.
What matters more is he doesn't have a vision to guide his choice. He has nothing that wakes him up in the morning where he can say "FUCK YEAH!" He heart doesn't beat with passion and fire. He is complacent. Effectively dead. People get hurt. People get confused. And dammit! I just wanted to strangle him or grab him and scream "Grow up!"
In my personal opinion, a journey through life is greater than any single relationship created. Even with your dream women. And maybe this
women serve as an inspiration for this journey.
So why in the world would a man even bother himself with a woman? Especially if this man is focused and on a journey? Well, many haven't. But some still do. But
why do men want women?
Women. Men. Let me know if you liked "Match Point". Let me know if Angela Jolie's hotter than Scarlett Johansson. Let me know if I'm crazy. Thank you and I hope to hear from you.
It's Alive, It's ALIVE!!!
It's finally done! I've added four months of posts to my new home. Finally. I was delightfully fascinated by how my posts have changed. Mainly I spell check, proofread and use pictures. Like this!
God I love America and the IntraWeb. I can do anything with them! In the spirit of archiving, I wanted to point you to a couple of my favorite posts through the last four months. First, you can take a look at
my man-crush on Gackt. No Johnny Deep, but really, who is. If that wasn't disturbing enough, you can take a look at my fascination with
Migas and
kitties. And how could I forget
Chuck Norris?
On a more serious note you can look over
the importance of being expressive. (Expect a post contrasting repression and refined expression in the near future.) I also talked about the
importance of sincerity in attracting a woman. Look how bad my old
blog eJournal use to be. It didn't have comments so I gave out an e-mail address. Crazy, huh? There's a post I really enjoyed about
the brotherhood of man and some other
like this one.
But I'd really like to hear which posts you really enjoy. Sound off. And let me know what you want more of, what you think sucks and what design changes need to happen.
Mitesh
Fine... Just one more picture of Liberace! And that's it! You're cut off.
Blog
For eons now I've hated the word Blog. It makes little to no sense. It just sounds digusting. Like "Hey did you see the nasty blog I left for you?" or "Oh! I totally blogged all over that! Don't eat it!"
Isn't it gross? Even worse are the words that have come from blog. Like Blogosphere. ICK!!! I don't even
want to get into how that turns my innards. You know there are words that we make up like Quizabuck
and no one takes seriously. And there are words that really wonder if they're real like
squab.
But how can we say Blogosphere without pissing ourselves or follow up with a "Just kidding!" I'm just waiting for the Internet Gods to say "Gotchya!"
So from henceforth (because all important things start with 'henceforth')
blog and its deravatives will no longer be used. Rather we shall now refer to
blog as a
Duketastic.
Go ahead. Use it in a sentence. See how much this is? Ah... Now when I leave you a
Duketastic you won't be mortified. Rather, you'll follow up with a gentle, sincere "Thank you." As if I had just finished dog sitting for you. How kind am I.
Seriously, we've got to come up with a better word than blog. It really does suck. Why not eJournal or QKitten?
Anyone?