Long time, no blog.

Sometimes life gets in the way!
When I first started this blog I had all these ideas and then I got in a car accident, got a promotion at work…so much stuff! I am not one to make excuses, though. So, let’s get to the meat and potatoes.

Awhile back I was introduced to the world of dirty tumblrs. If you’re not in the loop a tumblr is basically a blog in which you post and re-post photos. Now, being a lover of nudity…especially, artful nudity my bookmark folder labeled “sexy” is now chock-fucking-full of dirty tumblrs.
Here are my picks: **Remember, there is explicit nudity and sex acts on these blogs…if you’re not 18 or object to excessively pornographic bacchanalian activities then don’t click.**

• These are a few of my favorite things
• Fleshworld
• Deeper Valley

I highly enjoy those three links. They include some nice fetish photos, some are non- or little nudity, a lot are very artfully shot. While I am a fan of smut, these tend to be the artsier side of pornography.

In other T and G news, I am preparing to grow my bush out in anticipation of part two of the highly popular “wax on, wax off” entry! I found an awesome salon here in town and plan on getting a real brazilian, not half of one.

Just one of the guys.

Not the movie…

Growing up I was never the giggly, cute, girly girl. I guess in some way shape or form I was always pretty much like I am now: brash, funny, outspoken, fearless. I was the kind of little girl that challenged what their parents said…but always ended up on Mom and Dad’s good side. I was the kind of teenager that was friends with boys, but never anyone’s girlfriend. It made me feel kind of crappy until I was probably, seventeen and realized that if I played my cards right boys would eat out of the palm of my hand. My cards were usually my tits and playing them right involved a wonder bra. I also played the “I’m not afraid of my sexuality” card, and that one was my trump card for sure. I think I scared the boys, honestly…to some extent I still do. For example, I am not afraid to question my male friends on the importance of blow jobs in a relationship, nor am I afraid to claim to a patio full of people that if I were to go pro at anything in life it would probably be fellatio.

However, I always wanted to be a classy, pretty, classic girl. I have a friend who is one of those, always wearing pearls and skirts and heels and always has perfect makeup. Alas, I have finally at the age of 25 come to the realization that I am not that kind of girl and that’s okay. We can’t all be Audrey Hepburn! I like the fact that I am ridiculously intelligent and can talk up black hole theory, modern literature, film and art…and then switch the conversation to a burping contest, and maybe a little talk of butt sex. (My makeup is always perfect, too…by the way.)

Just recently I was listening to Britney Spears’ “Circus” and it got me thinking (seriously, shut the fuck up…I LOVE BritBrit.) There is a lyric in the song that goes something like “There’s only two types of guys out there: ones that can hang with me and the ones that are scared.” all grammar errors aside, that is pretty much true in my case. I am really lucky to have found a man that can handle my personality because for the most part no one has been able to hang with it. After awhile, I’m sure the novelty of having a loud, ridiculously funny, brash girl at your side wears off. My boyfriend always claims that he loves that I’m the best parts of a guy: I love baseball (I know more technical things about the game than many of my male friends), hot dogs, kung fu movies, porn and hot girls. I am also the best parts of a girl: sweet (shut the fuck up, I am SO sweet,) sexy, funny, caring.

I always get a little melancholy when I think about how long it has taken me to accept my brashness. I guess it’s just one of those stupid things you get with growing up…like those flappy bingo wings under your arms or enlarged pores . Fuck it.

Next up: a semi disturbing scientific experiment in collaboration with one of my best friends and fellow blogger.

Baby, Baby, Baby.

One of my favorite songs as of late. If this video and song isn’t sexy I have no idea what is. Despite the girls being pretty bony, it is definitely sexy. I mean, who doesn’t want to see a video of sexy young ladies walking naked down the street while lascivious song lyrics flash on their no-no parts? Besides she name drops some of my favorite French musicians: Justice, Yelle, and Tellier. Sweet. Impressive wax jobs, ladies.

(Watch it in HD if you’re able to.)

The Ultimate Orgasm

The first time I had an orgasm I was 13, and really I didn’t know what I was doing. It just kind of happened and it was one of those things where, you ran and told someone about this really cool thing you figured out and either they had a “DUH!” reaction or ran. Mostly, I was freaked out and felt kind of dirty until I realized like, two years down the line in Sex ed that it was normal.

Fast forward 11 years. I’d always considered crying during sex weird…something you see in the movies, and it’s usually a crazy bitch type of girl. Mostly, I think of the scene in The Rules of Attraction where Jessica Biel cries after getting fucked by James Van Der Beek and says “I was born in a Holiday Inn. ” I think that pretty much sums up the general consensus on crying after sex.

Last year I had probably one of the most intense orgasms of my entire life. I felt weightless, almost like I was flying…and it lasted almost three minutes. Yep, three fucking minutes . It was amazing to say the least, but when it was done I was overwhelmed by this crazy feeling. Out of nowhere…I started crying, and then it got worse. I realized that I was crying and then I felt CRAZY, like why the fuck should I be crying I just had the most awesome sexual experience and here I am…fucking crying like a crazy bitch. My boyfriend being the awesome dude he is thought I was in pain and kept asking what was wrong and all I could pathetically muster to say was “It was aaaaamaaaazing!” Yeah, crazy.

A few days later I confessed the crying episode to my best friend who nonchalantly responded by saying “Oh yeah! I’ve done it before a million times!” I felt a little less crazy, but not by much. It just made me ponder about why we negatively tag crying after sex? Sometimes crying isn’t a bad reaction…sometimes when things are so overwhelming the only natural reaction your body has is to cry. Not necessarily bad situations either! I mean, you see girls getting proposed to and…they start crying. That’s not crazy! Even though crying is associated with sadness and pain…that isn’t always the case.

So now we get to the hard part. Every orgasm I’ve had after that three minute wonder, I hope and pray that it is going to happen again. I’ve become a fucking orgasm junkie in a whole new way. Don’t get me wrong, it’s happened maybe a half dozen times…but, it’s not enough! I want more. I want that feeling every time, but unfortunately it isn’t so. Luckily, I am multi-orgasmic and have at least one orgasm every time I have sex. I know, I’m lucky…I chalk it up to all the years I’ve been masturbating. But now…I hope I cry every time I have sex. Because that means that it is pretty much mind blowing.

So, am I crazy? What do you think? Have you cried after a really good orgasm? Give me feed back on the elusive crygasm!!

Wax on, wax off.

I’d like to think that I am somewhat adventurous. I am not very vanilla, I enjoy new and exciting. The idea came from a co-worker who told me she forced her husband to give her at-home Brazilian waxes. I thought to myself…if they do it at home, then why the fuck should I pay some stranger upwards of $60 to remove the hair in my fun parts? I already totally dislike the awkward 10 minutes a year in which a gynecologist spends between my legs and I don’t have an orgasm. Why add another hour to that time? First, I asked my boyfriend if he would be willing to do the job, seeing as how he would be reaping the benefits…however, he declined for fear of being clueless and doing it wrong. So, I convinced myself that it would be a new and exciting thing to do, to bond with my body by waxing my own cha-cha and butthole.

I started first by consulting a good friend and co-worker who is also a licensed esthetician. I asked about the different brands of at home waxes and their benefits and advantages. She started off by suggesting a hard-type wax that didn’t require strips, since the hard waxes grip coarse hair better than softer wax. Makes sense right? I decided to go with the Sally Hansen Extra Strength Brazilian Bikini Waxing and Shaping Kit.I had been already been growing my pubes out in anticipation of waxing so I was good to go.

I read the instructions, trimmed my pubes, threw the wax in the microwave and got down to the real nitty gritty.  I knew it was going to be somewhat painful, so I was expecting it to be like, crazy bad leather-strap-biting pain. I started at the top of the bikini line: slapped the wax on, and ripped it off…wasn’t that bad. Had a zen moment, and asked myself  “Is this what all those bitches are complaining about, really??” Repeated, and the wax was laid a little too thick and stuck, so I had to peel it off, slowly, hair by painful hair…it hurt so bad I had tears welling up, and realized what the bitches complained about. By the time I pulled the errant wax off I needed to re-warm the little mug. This left me kind of in a scuffle…I needed to remain bare ass naked but had to run to the microwave in a robe.  Ten minutes of wax on/wax off, two butt nekkid trips to the microwave, and half my vag was silky-smooth! I debated waxing my ass, but was kind of scared when the instructions said not too. I imagined the pain of burning my butt crack skin and the woes that came with it and decided that a shave was just as good. All in all, I got half of my vulva done before I decided that the high had worn off and I didn’t have enough patience at the moment to get the whole job done.  The nice thing about the Sally Hansen kit is that it had a really nice azulene finishing oil that helped to sooth and smooth the skin after it was waxed. I also came to the realization that maybe paying someone $60-75 to not only remove the hair from your precious playing field but from the bunghole area as well was a fucking DEAL AND A HALF!

When it comes down to it, waxing your own boo-boo takes patience, time and pain. It’s way worth it, and I’ll do it again…but you must be prepared to spend at least an hour on a precious small area.  However ladies, don’t attempt waxing your inner labia or ass…it’s just not worth damaging the delicate skin in those areas.  My next stop is a pro-Brazilian and you can bet your sweet, waxed patooties I will blog about it…I will also leave a generous tip.