Some Stuff. . .

My apologies for the delay in posting, as work in the vanilla world has had to take precedence over what I consider normal.

Now--to the meat of this post.

Those who know me personally--or who have gotten to know me--know that there are times when I am an insufferable smart-ass, and that my humor often takes over, much like a demon--a really funny demon.  If my humor offends you, or if you think there are things that I shouldn't joke about, then fuck off and stop reading this blog.  I will never apologize for who (or, more to the point, WHAT) I am, and if you're a humorless stuffy person, then perhaps this blog isn't for you.

Now for some more meat--vegan?  Sorry, sugar, not on this blog!

For a while, I disappeared not just because of work.  I also disappeared because someone was trying to fuck up my virtual life, and I just wasn't about to sit back and take it.  This was to the point where I had to open a different e-mail account, killed off (for a time) a Facebook account that I use now ONLY for my immediate family (parents, nieces, brother and sister-in-law, cousins, etc.).  So here's the gist of my rant:  If I haven't heard from you in about 20 years (give or take), if I haven't thought about you in about 20 years, and if I haven't tried any way to get hold of you (no, not even that pathetic MyLife web site), then chances are pretty good I'm not thinking of you a whole lot.  I certainly can't say that I'm bothered that you're no longer a part of my life (although isn't high school, for most of us, something we're damn glad we're no longer in, PERIOD?).  I've changed since high school.  A LOT.  Though my inner dominance was always there, simmering beneath the surface, I could never truly unleash it the way I had hoped, so I did the next best thing--I joined and led many school organizations, won hideous amounts of awards and accolades, and tried exceptionally hard to keep my grades up, which resulted in lots of scholarships and saved SCADS of money for school.

Look--I've never exactly been a "nice" girl.  I've been an easy girl, a slut, a bitch, a cunt, and a damn difficult woman.  Nice?  Uh-uh. . . that ain't me.  Perfectly presentable for an evening, very pleasant company for about an hour, but after that, all bets are off.  The average man wouldn't accept this, nor would many who "claim" to be submissive (but who really aren't).  Most women don't much care for me outside work.  This is exactly how much of a shit I give.  So please, if you're reading this (which I doubt), please go back underground to whatever shithole in Oklahoma you're currently residing in.  Fuck someone else.  Marry someone else.  Die there.  Just die already you fucking loser.  You were a spineless shitheel who was pathetic in high school and had to steal, cheat, connive and rape your way into people's lives to get there, and you're still a pathetic shitheel now.  Fuck you, I have a life.

Oh yeah. . . how rude of me. . . .have a nice life! ;)

Now THIS is What I'm Talkin' About!

All right all you cross-dressing, foot-fetish, Domme-diggin' men who want to make Us happy.  Remember my little challenge from earlier this month?  If your sorry tail hasn't done anything yet. . . and I sure do have a sneaking suspicion it hasn't. . . perhaps you should check out this link:

http://walkamileinhershoes.org/

Should you take up this challenge, please send me pictures.  I want to see you in your Size 15 and above heels, stopping rape and sexual abuse!  If you are a man reading this--especially if you call yourself a submissive man and you're reading this--if you take part in this event, I would greatly appreciate any pictures or an update that you may have.  If you're a submissive and you aren't participating, or if you're a male follower and you're not participating, know this--you have displeased me greatly, and I would appreciate it if you would stop following a blog by a woman who wouldn't have your ass anyway, not even to flog it.  Up for it?  PROVE IT!

For Foot and Shoe Lovers

I found the following links via Ayesha's blog, and I'm thanking her for directing me to these delightful resources.  As soon as I'm up to it, I'll wrangle with the code to add them on my sidebar as permanent links.  For now, Dear Readers, feel free to click it while it's here.

http://www.highheelshoemuseum.com/

http://www.fluevog.com/ -- I have always absolutely adored these shoes!  Funny and cute and rather sturdy-looking, but for now financially out of reach.

http://www.exotichighheels.com/ -- Because you deserve some shopping pleasure

http://shoetube.tv  -- Hmmmmmmmmmmm. . . having a bit of trouble with this one, may have to update the link later.

Please also enjoy the 2 video links, one from Mistsress DiDi, Domme Extraordinaire, and a more vanilla version from Legwork.  The opening is HILARIOUS by the way, and heavens do I see it all the time.

The DIVINE Mistress DiDi

Legwork--and their hilarious opening segment!

Interesting News Report

This evening, while watching the Nightly News on my local NBC station, I was fortunate enough to catch this broadcast in their "Making a Difference" campaign.  I later went out and did a basic Google search for the Kibera School for Girls, where I found this.

So what does this have to do with D/s?  Well, probably not much.  What does it have to do with Women, and female empowerment?  EVERYTHING.  This school was started by a man and a woman.  Kibera is a slum area in Nairobi, Kenya, that is densely populated and extremely poor, with a high rate of infant and childhood mortality, and a high HIV rate.  Kibera School for Girls is the genius brainchild of Kenneth Odede, who is himself a native of this region.  Yes, you read that correctly, a school for girls, which was founded by a man.  He didn't go it alone, though.  He had help through his friend, Jessica Possner.

Many people who read, comment, occasionally follow, or are simply interested in gender and especially women's issues have gotten to know that I sometimes become quite vitriolic and acerbic when it comes to discussions of gender and what "they" feel or think being a woman is all about.  To these readers (and you bloody well know who you are, I'm not about to lower myself to calling out by name) I hope you will click the links above, read the articles, and possibly even donate to this wonderful school and help these future women.

A Brief Update

Just prior to the announcement of the AWOL status, I had written a post in regard to rape, forced Dominance via sexual violence, and a call-out to do something about it.  Here's part of my personal dilemma, if you will.

Yesterday was a rather nice day.  I have some work responsibilities to take care of, and will quite possibly be employed for a majority of the summer.  I am not complaining because as long as my paycheck doesn't bounce, I'm cool with any extra duties I may incur.  I like dressing in cool, flowing things for summer because it gets hot in my library, so the extra cotton and shorter lengths are quite nice.  I had gone downtown to a small funky boutique I have driven past often but never been in.  It  began to rain hard, and cool down dramatically.

She was standing outside, holding a battered umbrella.  Though her clothes were relatively clean, she was wearing sandals, and only had vision from one eye, the other milky with a cataract. Her glasses were torn all to hell too.  "Excuse me, ma'am," she said, "I need me a bus ticket.  I ain't got no money.  I gotta get home.  I need me a bus ticket. Ticket-man says I need forty-fi' dollahs.  I need me a bus ticket.  You got any money?"

"Sister, I'm coming right back.  Money's in my car."

I knew she was thinking, "Bullshit, bitch, you just walked out of a shop."  I only pay for my stuff using my debit card when I shop.  It's easier for me to track purchases via my bank's web site than to futz about with receipts.  It also keeps my wallet lean n' clean, and my handbag is much, much lighter that way.

So I came back around the corner, gave her the five I found in my car, and all the coins in my cup-holder.  She was having trouble holding onto it all.  "Thank you," she said.

"I'm always willing to help a Sister in need.  You have a bless'd day."

"God bless you, baby girl," she said with a gappy smile.  "Oh, honey, you better get out of this rain.  And don't hang out down here by this bus station.  This here's a rough neighborhood.  They don't bother me 'cause I'm old.  They'll bother you, though, and I don't want nothin' to happen to ye.  God bless ye baby."

This is especially for those submissives who think they can coast on the good will and good fortune of their Dominant, whether male or female.  Somewhere, someone had to save you, whether just a friend, your Dom/me, or someone else close to you.  Before you get all complacent and think you're off the hook for the next couple months, here's my request:  help someone.  More specifically, help someone besides your damn self.  Look, Sisters and Brothers (or should it be Bothers, ha-ha) we're all trapped on this planet together.  Basic kindness to other humans, no matter how sub- they may be, knows no boundaries--not race, not politics, not gender, not socio-economics or any of that other stuff the media keeps flinging at us like it matters.  So here's my challenge---help someone.

  

Away for a Bit

Readers,

I am sorry to do this to you.  Due to some personal stuff I need to work out, this blog will be updated rather sporadically.  Thank you, new followers, I appreciate your readership and I will try to update as soon as possible.

Really Down with D/s? PROVE IT

Gentle Reader,

The Domme.brarian got completely good and pissed off earlier today.  She's not apologizing because she knows she's right, and she'll be the first to admit when she's wrong.  But The Domme.brarian's boy jay has brought up some very good points today, and she concurs wholeheartedly.  She also is sending out a challenge.  The challenge is more directed toward submissive men than women, but if the women would like to participate, they certainly may.

When The Domme.brarian was in college, she started out as a psych major.  One of the courses required of all psych majors was to work an 800 hotline, mostly for suicide prevention and deep states of depression.  I saved a few people, I helped even more, and I heard lots of testimony from. . . rape victims and other assault victims.  The stories were heart-breaking.  One of those victims was a sorority sister.  As someone who had also felt the cruelty of sexual assault, I could definitely relate.

All right, submissive men, here's my challenge to you:  I am requesting that you commit to some volunteer work during the month of May, either for battered women or for rape victims.  If you truly wish to serve--if you truly want to prove your worthiness to women--if you care about females at all--please donate your time and your ears and your hearts to helping heal a victim of sexual, physical, mental, or emotional assault.  Don't throw money at it, don't turn your head and act like it's not there, don't be a silly little boy and think that if you ignore it, it will go away, don't provide lip service on your fucking blogs and twitter feeds and cute n' adorable little chat rooms.  You'll serve your time and help us.  Otherwise, maybe you really don't have anything to say to me.