There is a lot of hype floating around right now that Lego has come out with a female scientist figure.
Now, growing up, I wasn't all that into Lego. TMNT action figures were more my jam.
Ah, yes. Feel the wave of nostalgia wash over you. I also seem to be the only one who remembers these particular gastronomical triumphs:
In any case, I did know about Lego growing up. My little brother was into Lego, so there was a Rubbermaid bin full of little Lego bits around the house. And I seem to recall if I wanted a Lego figurine to be female, all it took was switching out the head or maybe putting some "lady" hair on it. Or, you know, Lego was also just a freaking block person with two little dot eyes and a smile. How non-gendered of a face can you get?
Best to assume NSFW content. Ramblings on things that interest me and what's going on in my world. Some kink, some sex, some general strangeness.
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Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Monday, September 2, 2013
I'm a real boy
Now-hubby and I spent yesterday at home together being lazy as we both had the day off of work. It was incredibly awesome, as the two of us rarely get time together that involves just hanging out doing nothing. I finished Storm of Swords and spent a good majority of the final chapters just like, "oh my god I can't believe how incredibly insane this is."
After that, Now-hubby and I went for a walk outside so I could bring the book back to the library slash enjoy the weather. I would have picked up Feast for Crows but the library was closed, so that'll be on the agenda for today.
On the walk, I filled Now-hubby in on what had transpired over the weekend. Mainly, a sex party with Frisbee and some mutual friends on Saturday night, and then the Renaissance Fair on Sunday. The two wound up being an interesting juxtaposition, because I spent Saturday night having consensual sex with other adults, and Sunday listening to straight people talk about all the ways they really really want to have sex, but can't because...I don't know. The reasons never really crystallize for me. It's like I hear straight people talking about them, and if I'm not in the mood to sass they just sort of wash over me.
I talk a lot of sass when I'm hanging out with straight people because I feel like despite our different approaches, we're ultimately looking for the same type of relationships. We just go about them in opposite ways. I tend to start at point C (sex) and work my way back to point A (getting to know the person and seeing if a relationship could be sustained), while straight people start at point A and hope eventually to get to point C. I've run into the misconception that because I start at point C, points A and B matter less to me. What's point B? I don't know, some middling part where the people agree to do something in an "exclusive" manner. Points A and B, with the right people, can be completely awesome. Cuddling with either Now-hubby or Frisbee makes my heart feel awesome to the point that it almost hurts. I also really enjoy point C with other people, and don't get why I should invest tons of time in point A and B before getting there. I asked Now-hubby about it yesterday, why the straight people we encounter overall have less sexual partners, but also seem to have worse experiences with said partners. It's almost like you have neither quantity or quality, which begs the question of what exactly you're trying for.
After that, Now-hubby and I went for a walk outside so I could bring the book back to the library slash enjoy the weather. I would have picked up Feast for Crows but the library was closed, so that'll be on the agenda for today.
On the walk, I filled Now-hubby in on what had transpired over the weekend. Mainly, a sex party with Frisbee and some mutual friends on Saturday night, and then the Renaissance Fair on Sunday. The two wound up being an interesting juxtaposition, because I spent Saturday night having consensual sex with other adults, and Sunday listening to straight people talk about all the ways they really really want to have sex, but can't because...I don't know. The reasons never really crystallize for me. It's like I hear straight people talking about them, and if I'm not in the mood to sass they just sort of wash over me.
I talk a lot of sass when I'm hanging out with straight people because I feel like despite our different approaches, we're ultimately looking for the same type of relationships. We just go about them in opposite ways. I tend to start at point C (sex) and work my way back to point A (getting to know the person and seeing if a relationship could be sustained), while straight people start at point A and hope eventually to get to point C. I've run into the misconception that because I start at point C, points A and B matter less to me. What's point B? I don't know, some middling part where the people agree to do something in an "exclusive" manner. Points A and B, with the right people, can be completely awesome. Cuddling with either Now-hubby or Frisbee makes my heart feel awesome to the point that it almost hurts. I also really enjoy point C with other people, and don't get why I should invest tons of time in point A and B before getting there. I asked Now-hubby about it yesterday, why the straight people we encounter overall have less sexual partners, but also seem to have worse experiences with said partners. It's almost like you have neither quantity or quality, which begs the question of what exactly you're trying for.
James Deen says the darndest things
Despite the fact that you have to click on the little "read more" tags every few paragraphs, this article is worth reading.
Sunday, September 1, 2013
Our country 'tis of thee
The two places I've lived, Michigan and Illinois, both like creampies and college. That's an interesting factoid. The rest of them are pretty awesome as well. Of course, Cracked has an awesome write-up on the entire thing.
Friday, August 30, 2013
Things worth knowing about
Having been having sex now for around 10 years, I am still sometimes surprised by people who know absolutely nothing about the clitoris. Well, there are really three varieties of terribleness when it comes to clitoral neophites. (Yes, I've encountered women who fit into all three of these groups as well.) The first has never heard of the clit and has no intention of ever learning about it. It's like if somebody brings up the clitoris they jam their fingers in their ears until the topic is over.
The second version has heard about the clitoris, but have absolutely no idea where it actually is. Is it somewhere near the bellybutton? Is it to the right of your labia? Is it actually inside the vagina somewhere? These people will put their hands lots of places, but none of it will be on the clitoris. Sometimes they might actually luck out and find it, but at that point it's like not seeing the forest for the trees.
Third version knows exactly where the clitoris is, but has no idea what to do with it. Do you just sort of...poke it? Do you begin by furiously rubbing it and ignore all other parts of the vulva? Who the hell knows. But hey, you found it! So that counts for something.
For awesome stuff about the clitoris, I direct you here.
The second version has heard about the clitoris, but have absolutely no idea where it actually is. Is it somewhere near the bellybutton? Is it to the right of your labia? Is it actually inside the vagina somewhere? These people will put their hands lots of places, but none of it will be on the clitoris. Sometimes they might actually luck out and find it, but at that point it's like not seeing the forest for the trees.
Third version knows exactly where the clitoris is, but has no idea what to do with it. Do you just sort of...poke it? Do you begin by furiously rubbing it and ignore all other parts of the vulva? Who the hell knows. But hey, you found it! So that counts for something.
For awesome stuff about the clitoris, I direct you here.
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