Love Through the Ages

  Ahh, love, l'amour!  That good old-fashioned thing that has changed with the course of time. In the beginning, as George Carlin so aptly put it, started out with the amoebas who created the very first pick up line:  "Take half my body, please!"

  Then, as evolution progressed, came the dinosaurs throughout the many eras. Cretaceous, Jurassic and Triassic. Well, not necessarily in that order, people. Their way of hooking up was to bite, club, smack and beat the living hell out of each other until the most dominant one stood triumphant. He is then rewarded the best female of the herd and schtups away to make even more dominant male babies and/or even more attractive females.

 Now let's continue on into the Ice Age and the age of the Neanderthal. Now, according to some historians, for the Cave Man to get a mate, he went out into the wilderness and searched for the perfect female. I like to refer to this as the "Me John Smith, you future Jane Smith" mentality. A mentality that I feel continues on to this day, however it all depends on your sexual orientation. So anyway, the Cave Man would go out wielding his club or whatever and if he saw a woman he really wanted he would bludgeon her and drag her back to his cave. His MAN CAVE, you might say! I believe this is when the legend of the washing of the very first "Deer Tracks" began.

 And now the evolution of love branches out from Man/Woman love to Man/Man and Woman/Woman love. The entire world, even to this very day, seem to only accept that love and marriage can only occur between a man and a woman. I do not exactly subscribe to that ideology, despite the fact that I am a straight woman and am attracted to the opposite sex. To me, love still can occur between a man and a woman, whether they're straight, gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgendered or beyond those particular spectrums.

  To me, love is unconditional no matter what it is you love and whom you are in love with. I love my mother unconditionally despite her many faults, same goes for my father. The same applies to my pets even when they shit and piss on my floors just five seconds after I've washed them.

  However, when it comes to loving someone you want to or are already spending the rest of your time with, unconditional love can come with a limit. I know because I have been through this. There was this one guy whom I loved unconditionally without realizing that he only wanted me when HE wanted me. Five years later, I saw the light and dropped him like one stops smoking. Why? Because I was gullible and believed that he did love me and wanted to take his time. Oh, what a fool I was then! Not anymore! I am here and I am free!

  Now, let's make our way into the 21st century version of love. In this day in age, a love between two men and two women is now becoming widely accepted. Even some members of the older generation are coming to accept it, but still, sadly, there is a large group out there consisting of people of various generations who only see a marriage existing between a man and a woman ONLY. Certain members of this "Straight Only" group tend to push their "Man/Woman only" beliefs on those like me who think if gay and lesbian couples want to fall in love, get married, have kids and be as equally miserable like us straight people, then it's fine as wine by me.

  When they hear this come out of me, they get offended and uppity, asking me how can I believe such "garbage." My answer to them: How can you peddle such a monochromatic ideology? To me, a Man/Woman only world is monochromatic to me. I like to see the world in 3D Technicolor, which means love can exist between anyone and everyone.

  You can agree or disagree with me, but this is how I feel. Can you deal with that? I sure hope you can!

From New Jersey and Proud of It!

  In light of recent events, in this I mean Hurricane Sandy (or Superstorm Sandy to some), I have to admit that I am truly very proud of being from New Jersey.  I was born and raised here and I love it!  However, I have to admit that for a while there was a time when I was not too proud to be from where I was from.  I would only tell people that I was just plain from New Jersey.  I would leave out the "Shore" part to that in almost every conversation.

  Now, I am what I like to term a "Jersey Diner Combo Plate."  What does this mean, you ask?  Well, I was born in Secaucus, New Jersey.  I spent 8 years of my life living in the town of Bayonne, New Jersey.  Then, when my uncle sadly passed away and my grandfather got sick, we decided to move down "The Shore."  So my family wound up in the town of Toms River, New Jersey, moving there in 1989.  So, from 1989 to 2007, we lived there and then my grandmother could no longer climb stairs due to her going blind so we now had to move.  So, we wound up buying a little one floor Ranch-style house in the town of Beachwood, New Jersey.  So, when I say "Jersey Diner Combo Plate" I mean of the towns I've lived in.  You've got a small helping of North Jersey and then a larger helping of Central and Southern New Jersey with a smidgen of The Pine Barrens. 

  I have traveled this great country of ours and I've been to a lot of places.  But no matter what state I go to, I always wind up back in New Jersey.  I cannot leave this great state.  There is nothing quite like it!  We're the Diner Capital of the USA!  We do what we want and we say what we want.  We are strong, hearty people.  Look at us!  We got bitch-slapped two years in a row by hurricanes and we came through, especially now!  We STILL have beautiful beaches and we will get them back because neither two fucking bitches named Irene and Sandy could keep us down!  We bounced back!  To Irene and Sandy, I wave both my middle fingers in your miserable faces! 

  In addition, I am also proud to boast that this great state produced some kick ass musicians.  We are proud to call our own the following:  Frank Sinatra, Bruce Springsteen, Jon Bon Jovi, Whitney Houston, Count Basie, The Four Seasons, Connie Francis, The Jonas Brothers, Les Paul, Queen Latifah, Jimmy Roselli, Southside Johnny, Dionne Warwick and Zakk Wylde.  And this list is a short one, and if I missed anybody, I do apologize and respect you.  But these are the musicians I am obviously well enough aware of. 

  We also boast our own version of Las Vegas, aka Atlantic City.  Great place!  I spent a ton of my informative years there watching my grandparents gamble everything they own there.  And I know, they made me sit there at the Handicapped ramp watching them pump quarters into the machine.  This was when ACTUAL quarters went into the machine and you had to pull that handle.  It's nothing like these fancy new machines where you insert the money and press the buttons.  Yeah, I'm old enough to remember the actual use of my hand to pull rather than press.  But let's not carbon date me, ok?! 

  Now, as far as television goes, we boasted some pretty great shows.  "Cake Boss" and "Real Housewives of New Jersey" I really love those two!  I used to go to Carlo's a lot when I was a kid to get cannolis and cakes.  However, now, I have to wait in a line that's eons long, but I wait my turn because Buddy churns out some stellar stuff.  And if there is one person I love, it has to be Teresa Giudice.  She is one hell of a woman!  Absolutely wonderful!  Stellar mother, fantastic cook and, like me, she's Italian.  In my mind, Italians, whether they are related to each other (by marriage or friendship), always take care and stand by their own.  However, if you mess with them or even fuck them over, oh you are in for an ass chewing AND an ass whipping!  And we are not afraid of using our Go To weapon of choice:  The Wooden Spoon!  Or, in some cases, our fists and our mouths.  Proud to possess all three in addition to a lovely set of well-sharpened Carving Knives. 

  If you haven't already caught on in my rambling, yes, I am an Italian from New Jersey.  It's kind of like the last name Smith.  Italians are more commonly found within the New Jersey/New York area.  Your thoughts are to be expected, but we have spread out across the USA and even Canada.  Mexico...hmm...not sure.  Have yet to run into a guy named Rodrigo Sanchez-Goosatelli down there.  But, when my great grandparents came here and got off the boat, they really didn't roam too far.  They settled down here in New Jersey, and real close to Ellis Island, too.  I think it was just because in case they didn't like it here they didn't have to go too far to hop on the next boat back to Puglia.  Just my thought.  There are "Little Italy" spots all over this great country, but the one I grew up with in New York got gobbled up by Chinatown and now it's no more than a handful of blocks and Restaurants. 

  Finally, we come to the one subject that made me not proud of being from New Jersey.  That is the show that used to be "Jersey Shore."  When that show aired, I thought it would be about how nice it is to come down to the Shore.  You know, get a tan, have a good time, ride some rides, eat Kohr's.  Something to promote how wonderful we are.  Boy, was I wrong!  What I came to discover is that it was nothing but a bunch of tanned up (and I've got nothing against tanning, by the way!) BENNYs going out to clubs, getting drunk, dancing, puking up and fucking each other!  I watched three episodes and needless to say I had to hold myself back from kicking in my 62" plasma TV with my fist and throwing up on it.  I mean...seriously...is THAT how MTV THINKS us REAL people from New Jersey ACT?!  Don't get me wrong, I am really sure they are nice people when SOBER, but when drunk?! 

  So, to all of you out there reading this, I am here to set the facts straight.  True New Jerseians are good, kind people.  We are very hospitable people.  We will gladly hold doors open for you and smile at you.  However, we are very nice people until someone or something pisses us off.  Then we go "Jersey" on you and let you have it served on a roll.  We will go hardcore and curse you out and get in your face.  We will ride your ass and pull your hair in the process of doing so.  In addition, we will rip you a new asshole, beat you with a baseball bat and tell you to go home and go fuck your mother with a used dildo.  When we are done with you, we let you go along your merry way however with your pride in shreds as well as your body and clothing. 

  "Jersey Shore" pissed me off and made me very not proud to say I was from this great state.  Want to know what I did when I went down to Seaside Heights when this show was on air?  I would drive by that damn house and FLIP IT OFF WITH BOTH FINGERS!  I was driving with my knees and had my moon roof open while holding out both my hands screaming, "FUCK YOU!" VERY loudly. 

  That show fucked up everything for us down here.  Which is why, and I hate to sound dark and cruel, when the show went off the air, Mother Nature took a good look at Seaside Heights.  Then she went, "Hmm, show's over.  I think it needs to be made over."  So, she talked with God and he said, "You're right!  They tainted that place something awful.  What do you think?"  So, she went to him, "They had a hurricane already.  But it's not bad to have one more."  God nodded and said, "Yeah, but let's have the position of the moon and another storm from the west come in just as it's approaching.  We'll call it a Superstorm.  What do you say?"  Mother Nature grinned, "Oh yeah and my period starts around that time too!  Perfect!"  So, Hurricane/Superstorm Sandy was born!  However, I am now planning on suing God and Mother Nature for the hole in my roof and having to sleep in a Chaise lounge by my front door wrapped up in blankets sleeping with my five cats surrounding me armed with a knife and reading Erotic Romance novels by means of a flash light.  In addition for the punitive damages caused by my asshat neighbor who let the fallen other half of the tree still resting on the powerlines for the next month after Sandy hit.  Thanks, fuck nut!  And while you're at it, get that damn mannequin that managed to survive the storm off your driveway.  This isn't a Mandees!  Is it ROOTED in the ground?!  That fucker didn't even blow away nor fly into my house so now I know it's rooted in the ground pretty damn deep. 

  The following rant will be followed in an upcoming blog post.  So, if you are from New Jersey, stay strong and Restore the Shore.  If you're not from New Jersey and you are a Republican member of Congress, I have this to say:  THANKS FOR NOTHING, MOTHERFUCKERS!!  9 billion won't even help!  As for that Republican fuck nut in Mississippi, your state got trashed when Katrina hit and you got aid within 10 days.  Where's your fucking logic, asshole?!  We've been over 70 days waiting for aid and you tell us No.  Well, thanks but no thanks, idiot!

There's An App for THAT?!

  I am the proud owner and user/abuser of the iPhone 5.  And I've got to admit that I am pretty damn addicted to it.  I use it for everything!  I use it to read books, pay for my Starbucks, play games, etc.  One day, I was at an event and noted that I didn't have a lighter to hold up while a certain Motley Crue song was playing.  So a friend of mine suggested I get the Lighter App for my phone.  So, what do I do?  I downloaded the fucking thing!  Yeah, now instead of holding up an actual lighter, I hold up my phone with the Lighter App going.  Then, a day later, it came to me:  What kind of Apps are being created to replace the acutal physical things? 

  With the creation of the iPhone, the Droid, Blackberry, we are now downloading Apps, or Applications, to replace (in a sense!) things that we usually do in the physical sense.  For example, we used to have to approach the Check In Counter at the Airport in order to get on a flight.  Now, with Apps, you have your ticket barcode on hand that you can scan into a machine and board your plane.  I will admit I did this...ONCE!  Why only the one time?  Because I did not want to rely on my phone the entire time.  I mean, what if it ran out of power or I forgot it, right?  I never leave the house without the following:  My Driver's License, my Passport and my Sanity.  In that order!  So my phone is on the bottom of that priority list because the first two guarantees my seat on the plane.  Enough said!

  There is an App for everything nowadays.  Cooking, Entertainment, Paranormal Research and that little twinge of pain you get when you twist your ankle too far to the left.  The possibilities are becoming endless with Apps.  I now ask you, the readers, to go into your own smartphones and check the Apps that you have.  Looking at mine, I have Apps that make sense to ME.  I have Chase Mobile because I want to see if I can make it through the week.  I have Urbanspoon because if I am out of town and want something good to eat outside the hotel I want to know where the locals go.  I have ITC and iOvilus for Paranormal Research because I often leave my gear at home.  Lastly, I have my BDubs App because I can often be found at a Buffalo Wild Wings eating wings and drinking Guinness while cheering for a Baseball or Football team other than my beloved Mets and Giants. 

  I've got nothing against Apps, but I do have a problem with Apps that are starting to slowly replace things which we often do by hand.  What's next?  A Toilet Paper App?  Yeah, right!  They can do it, but it's not as good as replacing actual toilet paper.  I got it!  A Nose Picking App!  Good luck trying to shove your iPhone 4 or 5 up your nostrils!  That App won't fly!  Ah Ha!  I got a perfect App here!  An App that thinks and speaks for you!  That ought to be great!  An App that literally speaks and thinks in place of you!  You're a machine now!  Good luck replacing yourself! 

  Seriously, folks, minimize the number of Apps on your phone.  There are things that Apps cannot replace nor duplicate.  Nothing is better than doing it the Old-Fashioned way.  So, with that said, let's do it all the Old-Fashioned way.  Sex cannot be replaced by an App.  You cannot have sex with your iPhone!  The hole is nowhere near big enough.

Romance Novels: My Proverbial Crack

  A few months ago, I was introduced to The Fifty Shades Trilogy.  Now, at first, I was very reluctant and for a reason:  I hated Romance novels and all things Romantic in nature.  Having just gotten out of a bad relationship, Romance had become the furthest thing from my mind.  I had forgo dreams of being kissed by a handsome prince and being whisked away into my happily ever after.  I put all thoughts of love and happiness into a storage bin and kicked it into the dark corner of my mind to let it gather dust and cobwebs.  After the shit my ex put me through, I wanted nothing more to do with Romance let alone read it.

  However, once I read through the trilogy, I found myself reading it again and again and again and again.  Then, before I knew it, I was recommending it to everybody, including my co-workers and strangers on the street.  I found myself even buying duplicate copies of all three books because when I would lend it out I found myself missing it and wanting to read it yet again.  It got so bad that I now had to psyche myself into diving into a literary database at work to try and find something similar. 

  Then, good fortune struck in a post on my Facebook timeline from a good friend from high school.  She recommended that I read "Bared To You" by Sylvia Day.  So, finding that I could not get it at work because it was on hold, I impatiently ran out during lunch and got the book.  And, like The Fifty Shades Trilogy, I found myself reading this one again and again and again and again. 

  Once again, I found myself in need of yet another similar read.  So, one day after work, I ventured into Barnes and Noble to buy a magazine.  I turn to see a display and saw the following:  If you liked Fifty Shades of Grey, then you will like... It was the book "Gabriel's Inferno" and its sequal "Gabriel's Rapture" by Sylvain Reynard.  I finished these two within 72 hours.  And, like before, read it again and again and again. 

  Yes, I will admit that my latest fixation on Romance novels has become, as the title of this blog says, my proverbial crack.  I am now addicted to books that I had vowed to avoid reading at all costs.  Books that I had earlier admonished for catering to the fantasies of Lonely, Single Women and Desperate, Bored Housewives.  Books I chalked up to being nothing but schlock that ALL women wish would happen to them in real life.  I would fantasize about having a huge bonfire consisting of nothing but these crap books.  Now, the thought is no longer entertained.

  Now, some men may feel that by their girlfriends or wives reading these books that this renders them insignificant as a lover.  I don't think they do.  They just take us away from reality temporarily.  It's not that you're bad in the sack or if you have Micro-Penis that you cannot satisfy them.  It's just our pornography of choice. 

  For the men reading this, I ask you this:  Playboy, Penthouse or Hustler?  Which of these magazines do you look at when you are in your bathroom rubbing one off while you have Metallica blaring in hopes to mask your cries of fantastical pleasure while you look at a woman other than the one you're with?  Answer that one for me!  And some of you have the audacity to get pissed off at us for reading a trilogy of books because all of us women fantasize about having our very own Christian Grey!  You can masturbate while looking at another woman in a magazine, but if we read about another guy in a book you get pissed with us!  If that isn't the pot calling the kettle black, then I don't what it is!  Stop admonishing us for what we read and we won't admonish you for yours!  Let us have our porn and we will gladly let you keep yours in whatever spot you have it hidden in! 

  There, I've made a case for us women.  Now I'm going back to my current read.  Good night!

Tania Head: Whoever You Are, How Could You?!

  As a child, I grew up in the town of Bayonne, New Jersey.  Bayonne is situated not more than ten to fifteen minutes away from New York City, particularly the Holland Tunnel.  As a child, I grew up looking at the Twin Towers.  I had the honor of going up to Windows on the World and the Observation Deck.  I even had dreams of even flying from the very top of Tower Two over New York City, looking down at the little ants that were people.

  On September 11th 2001, I was working as a merchandise hostess at Walt Disney World in Orlando, Florida.  I woke up one beautiful, warm Florida morning to turn on Telemundo and find that Tower One was on fire.  I was startled and I called my mom to know what was happening only to find my call abrubtly cut off.  I tried calling again only to find the lines were jammed.  I began to fear the absolute worst:  What if my youngest cousins were in the towers on a class trip?  What if my uncle or aunt was there for something important?  All the what ifs you can ever imagine.  Then, when I saw the first tower collapse that I made the decision to go to work.  In a car that was overheating, I was delivered the sudden shock of the second tower breaking down.  I almost crashed into a gate before I regained control and informed a guardsman that both towers were now gone.  He wept as he told me he knew.  I parked my car, boarded a bus and went to work whilst consoling many cast members who were, like me, from the New York/New Jersey area.  Many of those who have attempted tons of time to try and contact their loved ones. 

  I remember 9/11/01 EXTREMELY VIVIDLY!  I grew up not very far from the World Trade Center and even flew home to see family I had, initially, thought I had lost.  Thankfully, they are alive.  The scent of burning jet fuel and decay haunts me to this very day.  When September 11th comes around, the scent returns and it frightens me.  I cannot even look at photographs that I, and, family members have taken without being reduced to tears. 

  But, there is one thing that has sickened me, and that is the disgusting and very disgraceful and disrespectful deception of a woman named Alicia Esteve Head, otherwise known as Tania Head.  She claimed to have been a 9/11 Widow when, in truth, she was not a widow at all.  She was, in fact, a business student in Spain at the very time when 9/11 happened.  She took advantage of this very, very, very, VERY critical time in our country's history to claim she was (and not at all!) a 9/11 widow to someone who had died, but did not know her from Adam.  She gained influence by being a supposed 9/11 widow, when, in truth, she was not one at all.  She even became President (get THAT!) president of the 9/11 Survivors Society when, in truth, she never was one whatsoever!  She gained the trust of MANY, MANY, MANY people, including Mayors Giuliani and Bloomberg, in due, deep respect!  She had no shame, whatsoever!  She knew the sham she was playing and she learned from the best:  Her own family, who had been shamed by their own con in their respective country of Spain.

  Tania Head, or whoever you truly are, how dare you?!  How DARE you?!  You conned people into thinking that you lost someone you supposedly loved, but NEVER knew, that you survived the collapse of the World Trade Center and, in some twist of fate, lost your fiance and, somehow, was saved by someone who did not know of your identity at all, to the collapse.  I just have one question to ask of you:  HOW DARE YOU?!  You are not even a citizen of this country!  You have not even lived five SECONDS in New York City!  However, you have claimed that you had met, fallen in love and have become ENGAGED to someone you had never even met in your entire life!  Please give me an explaination why I should even believe anthing you've have told the media?! 

  I think you still, to this day, still continue to believe your own lies. I think that you still think of yourself as a 9/11 widow.  However, as a novice journalist,  I believe you are definitely not.  You are nothing but a con artist torn out of the same fabric as your father and your brothers.  To this day, I will never, ever, EVER believe a word you utter out of your own mouth.  Take my words as a compliment rather than an insult.  I was born here, raised here, grew up with the World Trade Center in my back yard.  Unlike you, I will always, ALWAYS, see those two towers hovering over me from where I stood on 43 East 51st Street in Bayonne, New Jersey, Hudson County.  Unlike you, who grew up in the exotics of Spain who were rarely afforded such a beautiful, blissfull, lovely sight as the blues of the Meditteranean Seas.  I, unlike you, was given the afforded pleasure of seeing two of the most extraodrinary, exciting, beautiful and most fascinating structure of the modern times in my own backyard whilst swimming my grandparents' swimming pool. 

  Tania, or whoever you are, you might have conned many into believing your lies, but you will not cheat me out of my positive childhood of having to go into my own backyard and see those magnificent silver towers hover over me in the distance.  It's tragic and sad you did not get to see them as I did very frequently as a little girl, but it sickens me that you pretended to be one of us who has suffered like I have.  I miss those towers over the horizon of the New York City skyline as much as I miss my grandparents tremendously.  You duped so many, yet you still think of yourself as one.  However, you are definitely not one of us.  You are a sham!  A dupe!  A total lie!  Stop believing in your lies and start in believing in your true self, for what you are, for the liar you are.  You were never, ever, part of this terrible tragedy that has affected my country.  You would like to think so, but you're believing your own lies.  It may have not have happened to, but it happened to my country.  We were affected directly, you were not whatsoever.  You might like to think so, but that is something you, your delusions and God will have to contend with.

  I am extrodinarily affected by what happened on 9/11/2001 immensely and it has affected me on my own mentality.  I cannot look at the skyline of New York City the same way, not without tears.  It makes me sad, very sad, to see the two Silver Castles (as I referred to them) missing from them.  This Tuesday, September 11th, 2012, I will be in Liberty State Park standing there in tears remembering how, as a little girl, my grandparents would take me there to look at them and admire at how they dominated the skies.  However, I will be in tears. 

Velma's All Too Brilliant Idea To Curb Cheating Men!

  I just recently came up with a brand new product for women who have problems with their man cheating on them.  I call this product GPPS, which stands for Global Penis Positioning System.  You know how they have Lo-Jack for your car?  Well, why not take the same technology and use it for the better good of keeping and maintaining relationships.  Now, what does this device do exactly?  Well, once you find out your spouse has cheated on you, don't go postal.  Don't toss all his shit onto the front lawn like you would see in an all trailer trash episode of "Cops."  Put away the baseball bat and razor that you're going to use to fuck up his car.  Just call up his doctor and make an appointment to have a routine physical and while he's checking his junk he will insert a microchip into either the penis itself or behind one of his huevos.  How will his doctor insert it without him knowing?  Well, that part I'm still working on, but I do know a small needle is involved. 

  And now that you've got your man fitted with GPPS, you are now letting him, and to borrow from a certain commercial, "free to move about the country."  And there is a bonus to this!  You get a free download of the GPPS Mobile App for your Blackberry, Droid or iPhone.  That way, when you want to go on vacation or go to work you can keep track of his junk.  You go on a weekend in Vegas with your girlfriends, all you gotta do is just turn on the App and see if he's at a place you know he never goes to.  And if he does happen to be at said place, this is where the fun really begins. 

  If you see that he is at an address that you know is not your own or that of his closest family members, you can let off a loud and annoying pinging sound similar to that of a radar on a submarine that will inform him and those around him that you have located his junk. 

  Another neat feature and this is similar to what they put in bait cars to kill the engine. However, the only engine you're killing is his ability to get it up.  I call it the "Showstopper" device.  Your handy, dandy mobile app will set off an alert, kind of like a siren going off.  This will let you know that he is getting wood from something other than you.  Once you get the alert, you will go to the Options menu and press the "Showstopper" button.  This will send a quick 25,000 volt jolt to his package, thus stopping the erection dead in its tracks. 

  Now you ask what happens if you two break up?  No problem!  The microchip will stay in place and you have passed all the technology down to the next person.  You can keep the Mobile App if you find yourself drunk and bitter and in the mood to fuck with his goods a little further! 

  And now I await TomTom or Garmin to contact me for my all too brilliant idea! 

Coming To Terms With a Holy Shit Realization

Like millions of women across the world, I have read and re-read the "Fifty Shades" trilogy because it was not only a good read but made me quite curious as to this "other world," you might say. Then, I came to the realization that all those spankings and whippings I've endured from my grandparents for my bad behavior had an effect on me. It left a deep scar on me, one which I am quite indifferent to. I am neither adamant nor at peace with it. I am rather confused by it. Well, let's just cut to the chase...getting spanked and beaten, even as a grown ass woman, has become quite a major league baseball turn on for me. For this, I am not the least bit sorry. There are people who enjoy this kind of lifestyle, myself included. But, like all of them, I have both my hard and soft limits. I would like to get spanked, preferably by hand, crop, flogger and strap. However, you try to stick a lit cigarette or cigar into me I will fucking kill you with my bare hands, bonded or not. Hard limit! VERY hard limit! Getting tied up? Not a problem! I'm all for it! Blind folded? No qualms! Just no auto eroticism, or strangle for sexual gratification because we lost two great people to that shit. Now this entry is very,very XXX rated for those who do read it, but I am no longer being shy about my tendencies and my transgressions as a human being. Love me, hate me, condemn, condone me, whatever. This is who I am, take me or leave me. I am not ashamed of it! As a matter of fact, I throw ALL caution to the wind completely! I am as, Mother Monster says' "Born This Way," then there it is. I am this way regardless of what might have occurred in my life and if I was born to endure humility. With that said, I am on the right track, baby, and was born this way. If I am meant to be a mixture of both a Submissive and a Dominant, then so be it. Tie me down or have me tie someone else down, it is the way of the Force. I guess things were meant to move in this direction. There! I've said it! I'm out as a Dom/Sub! A mixture of the two! Fix to be tied, but willing to tie other men myself! Haha! I feel so much better about myself. Like it, don't like it? So what? I'm being honest! Have a nice day!