Tag Archives: BDSM

My name is “No”

1A7E9E33-5E9D-4E91-88AD-0AA32703F629.jpegDon’t ask me for my number.

Don’t ask me to call you sometime.

Don’t ask me if I like Shibari.

Don’t ask me if I’ll send you a nude pic

Don’t ask me to sext with you at work.

Don’t ask me to phone you at 3 am and call you Daddy, with my panties pulled down as I touch myself.

Don’t wonder to yourself if I’m thinking about you as I type these words.

‘Cause my former self jumped off that blue bridge over the Connecticut River that night and

ended things in the icy waters below.

Nice to meet you, my name is ‘No.


Time For a Good Ole Book Burning on the Village Green

Shel Silverstein is hands down one of the best children’s authors ever.  I own just about everything he’s done in print; hard copy.   And I’m fairly certain that when my Little Debbie goggles wear off, the book will remain one of my favorites.

In light of the recent events of my train wreck love-life, I recently re-read “The Giving Tree.”

…..

Can I just say that I HATE that tree.

“Take my apples.”

oh just plunder all my assets and leave me naked in the forest, boy.

“…you may cut off  my branches….”

Take a chainsaw to my limbs and watch the sap run down as I bleed in agony….

“Cut down my trunk….”

Fuck me up the ass and leave me nothing but a stump for you to take a shit on…….

but I’ll still love you boy.

……

and then the tree waits and waits like a good empathic tree with no self-esteem does, and pretends to be happy being a used up stump.  and in the end ” the boy” comes back when he’s done using all the whores and he’s old and can’t fuck anymore and sits on the stump of a tree he’s used.   because she has no self-worth and wasted the best years of her life pining (no pun intended) for a boy who never loved her back.

The classic un-requited love story?

No, the classic romanticized portrayal of an EMPATH, DOORMAT FUCKED UP WOMAN, POSING AS A TREE

I dunno, this post could be coming from a distorted perceptual lens generated by marked glucose spikes from me consuming  a rather largish bag of M&M’s for lunch today and a couple of King-sized candy bars for dinner last night mixed with a Little Debbie cake.  It’s the Little Debbie goggles isn’t it.  Or is it just another angry rant about getting conned by a sexual sadist narcissist with sociopathic tendencies.  Or do I just have an axe to grind with trees.

Someone either pass me the kerosene and a match or give me another fucking Little Debbie cake already.


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