I love drag queens, I mean I LOVE THEM. They fascinate me, I go to clubs where they hang out, I go to fashion shows that feature them.
One of my favorite cop stories, involves taking a few to a club and forgetting to mention....there was a drag show that night. I let them run free....I let them hit on the "girls" and then we sat down for the "show" and I took pictures of their faces when they realized what they'd just done :)
Table in hell for one please!
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Why I don't work there....Part 2
The atmosphere between Topher and I didn't get any better. Most nights we spent torturing one another by spending time together, wanting one another but not touching one another, not knowing whether it would be easier if he left the room or if he stayed. If the torture of having him there was worse than missing him.....
The beginning of the end was the night of a MASSIVE storm. In a matter of minutes the entire town and the surrounding towns were without power, trees down everywhere, wires down, transformers arching and blowing, trees on homes, cars, barns, blocking the roads and trapping people in their homes. Working by myself was not an option and I called someone else in to assist me. But by 3AM, the calls had slowed and we were catching up when the Sgt came in to visit. I should add, the person I called in to help me, also happens to be my best friend, confident and the only man besides my dad I cannot live without.
AJ and Topher LOVED to gang up on me, it was like a game, lets see how badly we can get her tonight. I do not remember the start of the argument but I do remember throwing a cookie at AJ. Here is where AJ got to play his favorite game, he saw the chemistry between Topher and I and he loved to tattle to him, knowing I would end up apologizing because I couldn't tell Topher no (listen bitches, you would have said just about anything to get those fingers to work their magic again too!) As soon as the cookie left me fingers I realized my mistake and saw those two turn on me like rabid dogs over a piece of meat. I was toast.....
But I wasn't going down without a fight.
I resisted, until Topher had my arms twisted behind my back and had forced me to my knees to achieve that position (turns out being over 6'1'' and having all that training didn't leave me much of a chance....dick)In the next moment I learned for sure that Topher wasn't anemic, in fact he had plenty of iron, when I sunk my teeth into his arm. I also learned his pain tolerance was higher than my tolerance for the taste of iron and blood.
The next week I left my ass imprint on the sink in the kitchen and my DNA on the office chair....turns out his tongue and his dick are even MORE talented than his fingers. One morning not long after that during a rather nasty argument over where the fuck we were going and what the fuck was going on, the secretary came in early and caught me in his office.
I didn't learn till months after I had quit and then tried to go back that she had known so clearly what was going on, or told anyone that mattered.....turns out I didn't cover up my reason for being in the sexy young sgt's office at 5AM very well. OOPS!
I'll take the memories I left the place with over the crappy pay anyday.....
The beginning of the end was the night of a MASSIVE storm. In a matter of minutes the entire town and the surrounding towns were without power, trees down everywhere, wires down, transformers arching and blowing, trees on homes, cars, barns, blocking the roads and trapping people in their homes. Working by myself was not an option and I called someone else in to assist me. But by 3AM, the calls had slowed and we were catching up when the Sgt came in to visit. I should add, the person I called in to help me, also happens to be my best friend, confident and the only man besides my dad I cannot live without.
AJ and Topher LOVED to gang up on me, it was like a game, lets see how badly we can get her tonight. I do not remember the start of the argument but I do remember throwing a cookie at AJ. Here is where AJ got to play his favorite game, he saw the chemistry between Topher and I and he loved to tattle to him, knowing I would end up apologizing because I couldn't tell Topher no (listen bitches, you would have said just about anything to get those fingers to work their magic again too!) As soon as the cookie left me fingers I realized my mistake and saw those two turn on me like rabid dogs over a piece of meat. I was toast.....
But I wasn't going down without a fight.
I resisted, until Topher had my arms twisted behind my back and had forced me to my knees to achieve that position (turns out being over 6'1'' and having all that training didn't leave me much of a chance....dick)In the next moment I learned for sure that Topher wasn't anemic, in fact he had plenty of iron, when I sunk my teeth into his arm. I also learned his pain tolerance was higher than my tolerance for the taste of iron and blood.
The next week I left my ass imprint on the sink in the kitchen and my DNA on the office chair....turns out his tongue and his dick are even MORE talented than his fingers. One morning not long after that during a rather nasty argument over where the fuck we were going and what the fuck was going on, the secretary came in early and caught me in his office.
I didn't learn till months after I had quit and then tried to go back that she had known so clearly what was going on, or told anyone that mattered.....turns out I didn't cover up my reason for being in the sexy young sgt's office at 5AM very well. OOPS!
I'll take the memories I left the place with over the crappy pay anyday.....
Thursday, August 25, 2011
lets play 20 (9) questions...
Stolen from ...
1. Is there anyone of your friends that you would ever consider having sex with? you bet!!
2. Sex in the morning, afternoon or night? YES PLEASE!
3. What side of the bed do you sleep on? The right
4. Have you ever taken your clothes off for money? Yes
5. Have you ever had sex in the shower or the bath? Yes
6. Do you watch/read pornography? absolutely
7. Do you want someone aggressive or passive in bed? More often than not I like an aggresive man but I have my moods...
8. Do you love someone on your blogroll? Of course, I love all the bitches on my roll!
9. Would you choose love or money? Love, I can make my own money
10. Your top three favorite kinks in bed? Hair pulling, spanking and bondage
11. Has anyone ever gone beyond your personal line of respect sexually? yes
12. Where is the most romantic place you have had sex? I don't think I've ever HAD romantic sex....nor do I wish to
13. Where is the weirdest place you have had sex? My father's desk
14. Have you ever been caught having sex? Yes
15. Ever been to a bar just to get sex? No
16. Ever been picked up in a bar? Yes
17. Have you ever kissed or had sex with someone of the same sex? Yes many times
18. Had sex in a movie theater? Are we counting oral?
20. Had sex in a bathroom? Yes
21. Have you ever had sex at work? Yes
22. Bought something from an adult store? Shockingly no, I do at home toy parties and always ordered through them, so I've been in the stores but preferred my discount with the company I work for.
23. Do you own any sex toys? BOXES LITERALLY. we get a lot of freebies.
24. Does anyone have naughty pics of you or are you on film? yes
25. Have you ever had sex with someone and called them the wrong name? LOL yes
26. Do you think oral sex constitutes as a form of intercourse? No
27. What's your favorite sexual position? Doggy style
28. What's your favorite sex act? GOOD oral sex.
29. Have you ever had sex with more than one person at a time? Yes.
1. Is there anyone of your friends that you would ever consider having sex with? you bet!!
2. Sex in the morning, afternoon or night? YES PLEASE!
3. What side of the bed do you sleep on? The right
4. Have you ever taken your clothes off for money? Yes
5. Have you ever had sex in the shower or the bath? Yes
6. Do you watch/read pornography? absolutely
7. Do you want someone aggressive or passive in bed? More often than not I like an aggresive man but I have my moods...
8. Do you love someone on your blogroll? Of course, I love all the bitches on my roll!
9. Would you choose love or money? Love, I can make my own money
10. Your top three favorite kinks in bed? Hair pulling, spanking and bondage
11. Has anyone ever gone beyond your personal line of respect sexually? yes
12. Where is the most romantic place you have had sex? I don't think I've ever HAD romantic sex....nor do I wish to
13. Where is the weirdest place you have had sex? My father's desk
14. Have you ever been caught having sex? Yes
15. Ever been to a bar just to get sex? No
16. Ever been picked up in a bar? Yes
17. Have you ever kissed or had sex with someone of the same sex? Yes many times
18. Had sex in a movie theater? Are we counting oral?
20. Had sex in a bathroom? Yes
21. Have you ever had sex at work? Yes
22. Bought something from an adult store? Shockingly no, I do at home toy parties and always ordered through them, so I've been in the stores but preferred my discount with the company I work for.
23. Do you own any sex toys? BOXES LITERALLY. we get a lot of freebies.
24. Does anyone have naughty pics of you or are you on film? yes
25. Have you ever had sex with someone and called them the wrong name? LOL yes
26. Do you think oral sex constitutes as a form of intercourse? No
27. What's your favorite sexual position? Doggy style
28. What's your favorite sex act? GOOD oral sex.
29. Have you ever had sex with more than one person at a time? Yes.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Why I don't work there anymore....Part 1
First, let me just say, even though I know no one will believe me, I did not take a job in law enforcement as some twisted way of accessing every badge bunnies wet dream: endless cops. I took it because it was available, it paid my bills and it was what I majored in in college.
My second job with a PD is where todays story comes from. My first night on the job, Topher walked in and I thought 3 things, WOW, DAMN and STRIPES, JACK POT! It was lust at first sight. For both of us, but it took a few months for the lust to boil over.
First it verbally boiled over, Topher would spend WAY too much time in the station and not on patrol. Hours on end spent talking, flirting and trying to avoid touching and save our jobs. His self control was the most annoying quality I've ever dealt with and when he combined it with his ability to write me emails and messages that left wet spots on my chair, I'm suprised I'm not in a padded room somewhere rocking back and forth and screaming his name.
Lets remember though, he was still but a man and he had revealed to me all of his turn-ons. Black dresses, strappy heels, how he liked my hair, his favorite among my collection of perfumes and exactly what touches and words send him over the edge. One night, I'd had enough playing and I decided to turn up the heat. I included every single, last turn-on into that well planned and well orchestrated outfit (never say I don't know how to be a dirty girl) and on my way out at the end of my shift and the beginning of his, I stopped in his office.
I'd say I'd spare you the details, but what fun would that be? We thought the station was empty, except for the dispatcher (who, as my bestfriend, new better than to interrupt.) We were wrong. About the time his fingers found just the riiiiiiiiiiiight spot, the door to the cell block slammed shut. I nearly fell off the desk. And my panties were still around my ankles, under the desk when the officer walked by. I doubt he missed what was going on. That ended my night of seduction....
but it certainly wasn't the end of Topher...
My second job with a PD is where todays story comes from. My first night on the job, Topher walked in and I thought 3 things, WOW, DAMN and STRIPES, JACK POT! It was lust at first sight. For both of us, but it took a few months for the lust to boil over.
First it verbally boiled over, Topher would spend WAY too much time in the station and not on patrol. Hours on end spent talking, flirting and trying to avoid touching and save our jobs. His self control was the most annoying quality I've ever dealt with and when he combined it with his ability to write me emails and messages that left wet spots on my chair, I'm suprised I'm not in a padded room somewhere rocking back and forth and screaming his name.
Lets remember though, he was still but a man and he had revealed to me all of his turn-ons. Black dresses, strappy heels, how he liked my hair, his favorite among my collection of perfumes and exactly what touches and words send him over the edge. One night, I'd had enough playing and I decided to turn up the heat. I included every single, last turn-on into that well planned and well orchestrated outfit (never say I don't know how to be a dirty girl) and on my way out at the end of my shift and the beginning of his, I stopped in his office.
I'd say I'd spare you the details, but what fun would that be? We thought the station was empty, except for the dispatcher (who, as my bestfriend, new better than to interrupt.) We were wrong. About the time his fingers found just the riiiiiiiiiiiight spot, the door to the cell block slammed shut. I nearly fell off the desk. And my panties were still around my ankles, under the desk when the officer walked by. I doubt he missed what was going on. That ended my night of seduction....
but it certainly wasn't the end of Topher...
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
So its been a while.....
I had to think a while about what I would say next, although that is not at all the reason for the delay. Lazy, busy, blonde, way too easily distracted....take your pick.
Then I remembered. I mentioned THE ex when I shared with the online world my story of Cam.
The ex is insane, and I don't mean in the same fun, lovable, amazing, kinda way that I am. (really I am just ASK my coworkers). Let me also say, I still have a soft spot for him. I shouldn't, but I can't help it. I am female and I am naturally programmed to want to fix the broken and what has more fix appeal than a broken soldier. I mean hello, he got broken serving our country. Excuse me for following my nurturing insticts. Sorry..tangent there.
Paul was my first in many ways, he was certainly the first man I loved as an adult, the first man I lived with, the first man to stick it.....there (yes THERE, don't judge until you've tried it ladies!!) He was the first man to give me multiple orgasms in one session, the first man to actively help me check off items on my "Fuck it list". He was also the first man to really truly break my heart. But the ride, was great.
He was an infantry soldier. He put the bad in badass. Seriously, just ask him (or any other infantry soldier) they are the best.
Meeting him was actually life changing, I had that AHA moment, he came strolling into Lindsay's apartment that night and I saw two things, big muscles and bigger tattooes. Helllllllllllllllllooooooooo sexy.
Cut to the not so hot parts. He had PTSD, badly. There is NO way to explain away that black eye that he REALLY gave me swinging in his sleep (his nightmares scared ME, I can't imagine how bad it was to be having them). He had a PYCHOTIC ex wife. This bitch once got dragged off my MP's as she stood screaming profanities at me from across a parking lot.
And lets not forget....the mother. I think that bitch had a list of foods she KNEW I did not like and served one at least every meal. For an entire week. A FUCKING WEEK.
She made me sit through The Departed and act as a translator, what, just because I'm from Mass you expect me to understand people who say things like YAHHHHHHD and CAHHHH. Ok, so I do, but The Departed is NOT that hard to understand, its not like it was filmed in French.
And all of this I lived through because.....I loved my soldier. Wanna hear the nasty ending now? The man of so many firsts, asked me to marry him. Then, when I had traveled 3000 miles, after a fantastic trip to Las Vegas with him, he sent me a text to let me know, it wasn't working out.
And that was the end....
Then I remembered. I mentioned THE ex when I shared with the online world my story of Cam.
The ex is insane, and I don't mean in the same fun, lovable, amazing, kinda way that I am. (really I am just ASK my coworkers). Let me also say, I still have a soft spot for him. I shouldn't, but I can't help it. I am female and I am naturally programmed to want to fix the broken and what has more fix appeal than a broken soldier. I mean hello, he got broken serving our country. Excuse me for following my nurturing insticts. Sorry..tangent there.
Paul was my first in many ways, he was certainly the first man I loved as an adult, the first man I lived with, the first man to stick it.....there (yes THERE, don't judge until you've tried it ladies!!) He was the first man to give me multiple orgasms in one session, the first man to actively help me check off items on my "Fuck it list". He was also the first man to really truly break my heart. But the ride, was great.
He was an infantry soldier. He put the bad in badass. Seriously, just ask him (or any other infantry soldier) they are the best.
Meeting him was actually life changing, I had that AHA moment, he came strolling into Lindsay's apartment that night and I saw two things, big muscles and bigger tattooes. Helllllllllllllllllooooooooo sexy.
Cut to the not so hot parts. He had PTSD, badly. There is NO way to explain away that black eye that he REALLY gave me swinging in his sleep (his nightmares scared ME, I can't imagine how bad it was to be having them). He had a PYCHOTIC ex wife. This bitch once got dragged off my MP's as she stood screaming profanities at me from across a parking lot.
And lets not forget....the mother. I think that bitch had a list of foods she KNEW I did not like and served one at least every meal. For an entire week. A FUCKING WEEK.
She made me sit through The Departed and act as a translator, what, just because I'm from Mass you expect me to understand people who say things like YAHHHHHHD and CAHHHH. Ok, so I do, but The Departed is NOT that hard to understand, its not like it was filmed in French.
And all of this I lived through because.....I loved my soldier. Wanna hear the nasty ending now? The man of so many firsts, asked me to marry him. Then, when I had traveled 3000 miles, after a fantastic trip to Las Vegas with him, he sent me a text to let me know, it wasn't working out.
And that was the end....
Friday, February 4, 2011
Fort Drum otherwise known as HELL
The first thing I notice is the screaming-pounding-throbbing pain that appears to be coming from the general region formerly occupied by my brain. By opening one eye I determine I am in a room, ok good sign, I'm not dead. Next I conclude there are other people in the room, well....this could be good or bad since I don't remember who I was with past dinner time last night.
I flop over and stare at the ceiling, ok I know Sarah and I drove to New York to see her friend and I know I started the night with her "friend" and another hot soldier. I get up slowly and move towards the bathroom or what I assume is the bathroom, thank GOD I got that right because whatever I drank last night was determined to see the light again.
After seeing to that I wandered around, I had two goals in mind, find Sarah and FIND MY FUCKING PANTS. Within a few minutes I had the pants....and I had found what I could assume was the owner of this room? sleeping on the otherside of the bed. I could tell two things, I didn't have sex and I was definitely on base in a barracks somewhere.
I poked him, nothing, I pushed him, nothing finally I SLAPPED him and he moaned and opened an eye. He remembered me thank god and informed me of a few things, I had refused to have sex with him (REALLY?) and that I had insisted he turn around while I took off my pants. Well, he had me mixed up with someone else, for sure, but that was low on the list after where the fuck is Sarah.
Turns out soldier boy didn't have a car and his buddy lived on the other side of base. Have you ever taken a walk in the July heat with a tequila and everclear hangover on a sunny day? No, well let me describe it to you. Imagine walking through fire and over hot glass while being burned by the scorching rays of the sun which are penetrating your glasses like hot pokers and causing you to sweat something that smells like tequila vomit.
His buddy lived two mother fucking miles across base. I swear to you it was more like 500 and by the time I got there I had devised about 30 ways I could kill myself and just end this misery. I dragged Sarah out, dragged her to her car and INSISTED we get a fucking hotel. I needed a shower, I needed greasy food and I needed to sleep in a cool dark room for about a week.
Lucky for me I got none of those. Well I got the greasy food and after the fourth or fifth "if you fucking touch me I'll cut your nuts off" soldier boy let me sleep it off in his bed (after Sarah gave us a ride back).
By 9 PM I was looking at a line of tequila shots on the bar while soldier boy got ready to take the lime out of my mouth and just couldn't remember....why did I swear I wasn't going to do this again? I know I didn't make him turn around that night!
I flop over and stare at the ceiling, ok I know Sarah and I drove to New York to see her friend and I know I started the night with her "friend" and another hot soldier. I get up slowly and move towards the bathroom or what I assume is the bathroom, thank GOD I got that right because whatever I drank last night was determined to see the light again.
After seeing to that I wandered around, I had two goals in mind, find Sarah and FIND MY FUCKING PANTS. Within a few minutes I had the pants....and I had found what I could assume was the owner of this room? sleeping on the otherside of the bed. I could tell two things, I didn't have sex and I was definitely on base in a barracks somewhere.
I poked him, nothing, I pushed him, nothing finally I SLAPPED him and he moaned and opened an eye. He remembered me thank god and informed me of a few things, I had refused to have sex with him (REALLY?) and that I had insisted he turn around while I took off my pants. Well, he had me mixed up with someone else, for sure, but that was low on the list after where the fuck is Sarah.
Turns out soldier boy didn't have a car and his buddy lived on the other side of base. Have you ever taken a walk in the July heat with a tequila and everclear hangover on a sunny day? No, well let me describe it to you. Imagine walking through fire and over hot glass while being burned by the scorching rays of the sun which are penetrating your glasses like hot pokers and causing you to sweat something that smells like tequila vomit.
His buddy lived two mother fucking miles across base. I swear to you it was more like 500 and by the time I got there I had devised about 30 ways I could kill myself and just end this misery. I dragged Sarah out, dragged her to her car and INSISTED we get a fucking hotel. I needed a shower, I needed greasy food and I needed to sleep in a cool dark room for about a week.
Lucky for me I got none of those. Well I got the greasy food and after the fourth or fifth "if you fucking touch me I'll cut your nuts off" soldier boy let me sleep it off in his bed (after Sarah gave us a ride back).
By 9 PM I was looking at a line of tequila shots on the bar while soldier boy got ready to take the lime out of my mouth and just couldn't remember....why did I swear I wasn't going to do this again? I know I didn't make him turn around that night!
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
The Cryer
For a while, I was hanging around this girl Jo, who I'd known in high school. She was my age (24 at the time), twice divorced and had recently moved home from somewhere down south. She was a tattooed, raging alcoholic, head case and she was a shitty friend but she made for a hell of a night out. Needless to say, there were lots of interesting men for me to meet through her, and her partier friends. Although we no longer talk (long, boring, shitty friend story) I can thank her for the memory of my night with the cryer.
Jay was a former Marine, the former part wasn't ideal but hey....my area isn't exactly crawling with Marines and as my Gram would say, beggers can't be choosers!! Jo insisted that I meet him and I kept assuring her, I was NOT interested.....until I saw him.
From the moment I walked into the tiny, dirty, slum bar that night our fate was sealed, I was going to have this man. The night found me sitting on his lap getting to know him while our friends decided what and where we were headed next. In the parking lot we decided to ride together to our next hole in the wall and off we went to the "turtle" together.
We didn't go in at first and we sat in the car talking (no seriously we did) and as the "get to know you" conversation always does we moved on to our families. Now, I try not to talk much about my family besides my sister because we are a loving but dysfunctional redneck bunch and its just hard to explain that my dad is SO redneck that he bought a backhoe during his midlife crisis....
We are in the middle of what I thought was a wonderful conversation when all of a sudden....is he? what the FUCK? at first it was just a few sniffles but the next thing I knew he had his head in my lap and was seriously SOBBING in my lap. OH MY GOD. There I sat, motionless and speechless with a Marine, you know, the few, the proud all that shit, SOBBING LIKE A BABY IN MY LAP.
With no explanation, he sat up, got out of the car and walked into the bar. I followed because well, what the fuck else was I supposed to do? And he spent most of the rest of the night hanging all over me while I tried desperately to figure out what the hell had just happened in the car. Shortly before last call, he seemed to slip back into a blue mood and I tried to approach him, he mumbled something about leaving and home and sorry and LEFT me at the bar. No car, no way to get home, nothing. Fucking charming.
To conclude my shitty night, I text my best friend, to tell him about this epic disaster, hoping for some sympathy. WRONG, the mother fucker immediately turned to the hot cop sitting next to him at work and told him the entire story. I spent the next hour fielding texts about "tissues" and "making men cry", THANKS ASSHOLES!!
I've only really known one other Marine and I can't see him breaking down into tears like that. Later Jo explained to me that his parents were both very ill and he wasn't handling it well. I guess thats understandable but don't you usually tell the girl that sometime before or after soaking her jeans in your tears!?!?!
Jay was a former Marine, the former part wasn't ideal but hey....my area isn't exactly crawling with Marines and as my Gram would say, beggers can't be choosers!! Jo insisted that I meet him and I kept assuring her, I was NOT interested.....until I saw him.
From the moment I walked into the tiny, dirty, slum bar that night our fate was sealed, I was going to have this man. The night found me sitting on his lap getting to know him while our friends decided what and where we were headed next. In the parking lot we decided to ride together to our next hole in the wall and off we went to the "turtle" together.
We didn't go in at first and we sat in the car talking (no seriously we did) and as the "get to know you" conversation always does we moved on to our families. Now, I try not to talk much about my family besides my sister because we are a loving but dysfunctional redneck bunch and its just hard to explain that my dad is SO redneck that he bought a backhoe during his midlife crisis....
We are in the middle of what I thought was a wonderful conversation when all of a sudden....is he? what the FUCK? at first it was just a few sniffles but the next thing I knew he had his head in my lap and was seriously SOBBING in my lap. OH MY GOD. There I sat, motionless and speechless with a Marine, you know, the few, the proud all that shit, SOBBING LIKE A BABY IN MY LAP.
With no explanation, he sat up, got out of the car and walked into the bar. I followed because well, what the fuck else was I supposed to do? And he spent most of the rest of the night hanging all over me while I tried desperately to figure out what the hell had just happened in the car. Shortly before last call, he seemed to slip back into a blue mood and I tried to approach him, he mumbled something about leaving and home and sorry and LEFT me at the bar. No car, no way to get home, nothing. Fucking charming.
To conclude my shitty night, I text my best friend, to tell him about this epic disaster, hoping for some sympathy. WRONG, the mother fucker immediately turned to the hot cop sitting next to him at work and told him the entire story. I spent the next hour fielding texts about "tissues" and "making men cry", THANKS ASSHOLES!!
I've only really known one other Marine and I can't see him breaking down into tears like that. Later Jo explained to me that his parents were both very ill and he wasn't handling it well. I guess thats understandable but don't you usually tell the girl that sometime before or after soaking her jeans in your tears!?!?!
Saturday, January 29, 2011
A little bit of why...
While I cannot tell you, on a serious level, what exactly it is about a man in uniform that gets me, I've come up with a list of ten FUN reasons why any girl should want to take one for a ride, at least once....
1.They know how to use their guns.
2.(Usually) what's underneath that uniform is worth the energy it takes to get that shit off.
3. They have handcuffs and they know how to use them (ok, so this only applies to cops but trust me, its a quality not to be dimissed lightly)
4.They are take charge kind of men. Throw you up against a wall, bend you over the couch, make you scream and beg. They aren't afraid to be rough with you.
5.work hard, play hard. nuff said.
6.They can handle a bad girl, drop the F bomb, be a bitch, trust me they've heard worse.
7.Independent? Got a life of your own? PERFECT. They do too, and long work hours too!
8.Job Security. I don't care whether he's a cop, soldier, marine, whatever, those jobs won't be outsourced anytime soon ladies!
9.TRAVEL! (yeah, this one only applies to active duty military mostly, but can you say Germany? Italy? Hell even Alaska doesn't sound bad..for a while)
10.THEY'RE FUCKING SEXY. who even NEEDS another reason!?
1.They know how to use their guns.
2.(Usually) what's underneath that uniform is worth the energy it takes to get that shit off.
3. They have handcuffs and they know how to use them (ok, so this only applies to cops but trust me, its a quality not to be dimissed lightly)
4.They are take charge kind of men. Throw you up against a wall, bend you over the couch, make you scream and beg. They aren't afraid to be rough with you.
5.work hard, play hard. nuff said.
6.They can handle a bad girl, drop the F bomb, be a bitch, trust me they've heard worse.
7.Independent? Got a life of your own? PERFECT. They do too, and long work hours too!
8.Job Security. I don't care whether he's a cop, soldier, marine, whatever, those jobs won't be outsourced anytime soon ladies!
9.TRAVEL! (yeah, this one only applies to active duty military mostly, but can you say Germany? Italy? Hell even Alaska doesn't sound bad..for a while)
10.THEY'RE FUCKING SEXY. who even NEEDS another reason!?
Thursday, January 27, 2011
My favorite bitch....
Bad girl bloggers asked about our favorite bitches and although I am about to reveal myself as the biggest history dork you know, I'm going to throw her out there anyway!
Anne Boleyn. (Image to follow shortly, my computer seems angry with me today)
Why? Well, I kind of think she got a bad rap, I know she stole another man's wife but he was the King of England...the most powerful man in the KNOWN world, how was she supposed to say no??
That fact aside, she changed the course of history, religion, politics and female leadership. She aided in the reformation, bringing the Protestent religion to England and using her influence over the King to bring it to England. She was also no foriegner to using her sexuality, she knew what she had and she knew how to work it!
I think she was ambitious, sexy, strong, and extremely intelligent, she's my pick for bitch of the week because the awesome qualities she had (especially for a woman in the 16th century) are always over looked for her reputation as a slut, witch, and the second and sadly beheaded wife of Henry VIII!
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Wrong Soldier (Part two)
To say I FUCKED up, may be the understatement of the century. I drove 45 minutes for a booty call, it was supposed to be a booty call, he swore it was dammit. I remember texts that contained words like "just fun" and "casual" and "no strings attached". So I show up at his apartment with the idea in my head that I'm going to have some sex (hopefully good), go home and go on with my life.
Let me go back for just a moment, to a night a year before this booty call, we were sitting in the parking lot at Denny's waiting for our friends to catch up with us and Cam informed me, he would NEVER be with a girl who had been with one of his friends. OKKKKK I can take a hint! I was suprised he had invited me over, but I figured maybe "just for fun" didn't fall into his category of "being with" the girl. Ok, or maybe I was in denial. This was a man who in the 4 years I'd known him had never had casual sex to my knowledge....
I went home that night, but hadn't made it halfway there before he sent me a text asking if it was "ok", didn't we cover that when I woke your neighbors screaming? Or when I walked into the wall because my knees were so weak I couldn't walk straight when I tried to stand up?? But I figured I can reassure him, I mean after that many orgasms I owe him at least that. I still (in my deep deep denial) thought that would be the end of it.
The next few weeks included texts, facebook IM's and calls from Cam. "When can I see you", "that was SO great, you don't even know" (yes, I do, I WAS THERE), "so you wanna do it again right", "Don't forget me" (how can I? you text me 50 times a day!!), "you don't have to drive all the way home, you can sleep here " (since when do booty calls sleep over!?!?). All those I could handle but then it took a turn for the emotional and I just wasn't sure, and to be honest I was still wrapped up in this cop I had a thing for and I hadn't taken a moment to consider Cam for anything more than his FANTASTIC tongue.
Through these couple weeks I had been avoiding, dodging and trying to sweetly pretend I wanted to see him so I could have that tongue again, when I wasn't too busy. But on the night of the "emotional incident" as I've taken to calling it in my head, I put my giant bitch pants on. He started out asking me if I had ever thought that would happen, upon my reference to the Denny's parking lot chat, he informed me, all that really mattered is how much he liked me, that he was sorry he'd said that (SHIT), the incident continued with his confession he would never have done that if he didn't trust me, he was not a whore ( DOUBLE SHIT) and when I blew off these statements, changed the subject, and refused to admit that I knew what he was telling me, he posted a facebook status in my honor. The lyrics to the Darius Rucker song, Don't think I don't think about it. For those of you who don't know, it goes something like this:
Let me go back for just a moment, to a night a year before this booty call, we were sitting in the parking lot at Denny's waiting for our friends to catch up with us and Cam informed me, he would NEVER be with a girl who had been with one of his friends. OKKKKK I can take a hint! I was suprised he had invited me over, but I figured maybe "just for fun" didn't fall into his category of "being with" the girl. Ok, or maybe I was in denial. This was a man who in the 4 years I'd known him had never had casual sex to my knowledge....
I went home that night, but hadn't made it halfway there before he sent me a text asking if it was "ok", didn't we cover that when I woke your neighbors screaming? Or when I walked into the wall because my knees were so weak I couldn't walk straight when I tried to stand up?? But I figured I can reassure him, I mean after that many orgasms I owe him at least that. I still (in my deep deep denial) thought that would be the end of it.
The next few weeks included texts, facebook IM's and calls from Cam. "When can I see you", "that was SO great, you don't even know" (yes, I do, I WAS THERE), "so you wanna do it again right", "Don't forget me" (how can I? you text me 50 times a day!!), "you don't have to drive all the way home, you can sleep here " (since when do booty calls sleep over!?!?). All those I could handle but then it took a turn for the emotional and I just wasn't sure, and to be honest I was still wrapped up in this cop I had a thing for and I hadn't taken a moment to consider Cam for anything more than his FANTASTIC tongue.
Through these couple weeks I had been avoiding, dodging and trying to sweetly pretend I wanted to see him so I could have that tongue again, when I wasn't too busy. But on the night of the "emotional incident" as I've taken to calling it in my head, I put my giant bitch pants on. He started out asking me if I had ever thought that would happen, upon my reference to the Denny's parking lot chat, he informed me, all that really mattered is how much he liked me, that he was sorry he'd said that (SHIT), the incident continued with his confession he would never have done that if he didn't trust me, he was not a whore ( DOUBLE SHIT) and when I blew off these statements, changed the subject, and refused to admit that I knew what he was telling me, he posted a facebook status in my honor. The lyrics to the Darius Rucker song, Don't think I don't think about it. For those of you who don't know, it goes something like this:
Don't think I don't think about it
don't think I don't have regrets
don't think it don't get to me
between the work and the hurt and the whiskey
could've been, should've been all worked out
I know what I felt and I know what I said
But don't think I don't think about it
I tried to pretend this wasn't happening, I tried asking if he was drunk and finally I told him I had to go to work (I had the night off) and ended the conversation. I ended up telling him he was annoying me and to back off (yeah, yeah I knowww). All of this would not matter if I had not had a startling lightbulb moment a couple months later. After all the crap I said to him and all of my terrible behavior, when I needed a place to stay because of an awful snow storm the day after Christmas (he lives MUCH closer to my work) he was willing to let me stay there, and while we sat on the couch watching a movie, after he bought me chinese food I realized, I had made a mistake of epic proportions....this felt SO right....and AH FUCK. In case I had any doubts he got up the next morning, made me coffee, cleaned off and warmed up my car AND brought me lunch at work despite the crappy roads. I'm still trying to do damage control on this one....I just can't blame him for being a bit distant after ALL the shit I did.....
Sunday, January 23, 2011
The Wrong Soldier....
I met my ex, the man I nearly married, through my darling friend Lindsey. By accident. I was not supposed to meet him (I've spent hours wondering what nasty piece of karma had me meeting him first). I was supposed meet a friend of her boyfriend, sadly this man had more than one friend and I met my future ex, Paul, first. That is a whoooooole different story in my uniform index but it needed to be said so I could discuss the other friend.
Cam, the one she'd originally intended for me, was....oh he was yummy. Built, tattooed, uniformed with that nice square jaw line. On top of that he was sweet, stable, intelligent and LOCAL (if you develop a taste for the military that becomes an important point). But did I meet him first? No I met my ex, when he came walking into my friends apartment in all his tattooed, badass soldier glory. And instantely I was smitten. Other guy? What other guy?
Years later, Cam would eventually become a close friend. We had weathered my break up with Paul (and his nasty accusations that I was the pyscho and not Paul), his break up with the bitch to beat out all bitches (her name was a virtue too, irony at its best) and we had also weathered his general whiney-ness. I had a genuine, good guy friend. A man who would put my drunk ass to sleep on his futon and then sleep on the couch next to it, just to make sure I was ok. A man who called me at 5AM to ask me what kind of lotion wouldn't bring his acne back out in full force and a man who sent me pictures of the gifts he got for his nieces and would spend endless nights talking to me, just because I needed a friend.
So why am I writing about him, since clearly he is an all around great guy? Well, because I, in my infinite wisdom, FUCKED THE WHOLE THING UP. A little light flirting and some sexual innuendos were normal for us, we were both young and always seemed to be single. But one night while I sat at work and he at home, it turned into a whole different game. I wish I could remember the details, but all I rememer is that I called him a "goody two shoes" and by 15 minutes before my shift ended he was asking me to come over so he could "pull my hair". After a (very) short internal debate I jumped in my car and drove 45 minutes for this booty call that I had very little hope for.
WRONG. I'll save my fuck up for another post, if I'm going to lay out all the cards of what a wretched bitch I was, it deserves its own post. But I will leave with this, I remember rolling over and blurting out the first words that came into my head, "Sweet Jesus I was fucking the WRONG soldier"
Cam, the one she'd originally intended for me, was....oh he was yummy. Built, tattooed, uniformed with that nice square jaw line. On top of that he was sweet, stable, intelligent and LOCAL (if you develop a taste for the military that becomes an important point). But did I meet him first? No I met my ex, when he came walking into my friends apartment in all his tattooed, badass soldier glory. And instantely I was smitten. Other guy? What other guy?
Years later, Cam would eventually become a close friend. We had weathered my break up with Paul (and his nasty accusations that I was the pyscho and not Paul), his break up with the bitch to beat out all bitches (her name was a virtue too, irony at its best) and we had also weathered his general whiney-ness. I had a genuine, good guy friend. A man who would put my drunk ass to sleep on his futon and then sleep on the couch next to it, just to make sure I was ok. A man who called me at 5AM to ask me what kind of lotion wouldn't bring his acne back out in full force and a man who sent me pictures of the gifts he got for his nieces and would spend endless nights talking to me, just because I needed a friend.
So why am I writing about him, since clearly he is an all around great guy? Well, because I, in my infinite wisdom, FUCKED THE WHOLE THING UP. A little light flirting and some sexual innuendos were normal for us, we were both young and always seemed to be single. But one night while I sat at work and he at home, it turned into a whole different game. I wish I could remember the details, but all I rememer is that I called him a "goody two shoes" and by 15 minutes before my shift ended he was asking me to come over so he could "pull my hair". After a (very) short internal debate I jumped in my car and drove 45 minutes for this booty call that I had very little hope for.
WRONG. I'll save my fuck up for another post, if I'm going to lay out all the cards of what a wretched bitch I was, it deserves its own post. But I will leave with this, I remember rolling over and blurting out the first words that came into my head, "Sweet Jesus I was fucking the WRONG soldier"
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Someone told me I should write a book....
A close friend, one I depend on for advise, especially for the (usually dramatic) intimate part of my life told me I should write a book. I was amused, to say the least. What on earth about my life could be interesting enough to write a book about? His answer: Tell me when the last time you dated, slept with or hell even LOOKED at a man who didn't wear a uniform.
He's right....its been almost two years.
And even before that, I only sprinkled my dating/sex life with so called "normal" men. So why not write about it? Will anyone read it? I couldn't tell you. Some people are certainly going to read it and see SLUT. To be honest, that is fine with me. I long ago decided that what makes ME happy is far more important than other people's opinions of my personal life and the point of this blog is to make people LAUGH, if I could figure out why I can't learn to avoid a man in uniform, trust me ladies and gentleman, I would be working to fix it.
I can't even pinpoint something they all have in common except that they all wear some variety of a uniform. Cop, Soldier, Marine, Sailor, Airman....And so this blog will be about just that, the confessions of a uniform addict.
If I'm going to confess, why not start at the beginning, right? My very first uniform? What was he you ask? A soldier. To be precise I was 18, fresh out of high school, was at a county fair when I stumbled across a booth run by the National Guard. His name, which for the purpose of protecting his identity and mine, will be John. John was in his late 20's, cute and had a friend for my friend. SCORE! Now, I'll be honest, this relationship wasn't going too far from the beginning, he had about as many brain cells as your average house cat, even at 18, I could barely tolerate a conversation with the man. But oh when he turned those baby blue eyes on me, and I stared deep into his....wait....were those....yes....those were STRIPES on his uniform. Jackpot. John, I will admit was short lived, turns out, he worked at home depot for a day job, lived in a CRAPPY apartment and had a disturbing obsession with Yoda (YOU try waking up to Yoda action figures on the night stand *shudder*). For about a month I over looked these things because I knew, that uniform was just waiting for him to put back on and the minute he did it made hovering everytime I had to pee at his place worth it (aren't military men supposed to be super clean?) But alas, I did finally reach a point where I thought, alright, this has been lovely John, but I am going to have to exit the ride at this time, I think I just heard the words "meet" and "mother" in the same sentence.
After changing my phone number and avoiding the town he resided in for a month or two I had some time to think....sure he was dumb....and sure he was a little weird....but Sweet Jesus was he HOT. I learned a few very important lessons from John, Star Wars IS as dorky as I always thought, theres nothing worse than puking in a dirty toilet after a night of drinking, and a man in uniform for me is like a new flavor of ice cream, I just HAVE to try him out!
He's right....its been almost two years.
And even before that, I only sprinkled my dating/sex life with so called "normal" men. So why not write about it? Will anyone read it? I couldn't tell you. Some people are certainly going to read it and see SLUT. To be honest, that is fine with me. I long ago decided that what makes ME happy is far more important than other people's opinions of my personal life and the point of this blog is to make people LAUGH, if I could figure out why I can't learn to avoid a man in uniform, trust me ladies and gentleman, I would be working to fix it.
I can't even pinpoint something they all have in common except that they all wear some variety of a uniform. Cop, Soldier, Marine, Sailor, Airman....And so this blog will be about just that, the confessions of a uniform addict.
If I'm going to confess, why not start at the beginning, right? My very first uniform? What was he you ask? A soldier. To be precise I was 18, fresh out of high school, was at a county fair when I stumbled across a booth run by the National Guard. His name, which for the purpose of protecting his identity and mine, will be John. John was in his late 20's, cute and had a friend for my friend. SCORE! Now, I'll be honest, this relationship wasn't going too far from the beginning, he had about as many brain cells as your average house cat, even at 18, I could barely tolerate a conversation with the man. But oh when he turned those baby blue eyes on me, and I stared deep into his....wait....were those....yes....those were STRIPES on his uniform. Jackpot. John, I will admit was short lived, turns out, he worked at home depot for a day job, lived in a CRAPPY apartment and had a disturbing obsession with Yoda (YOU try waking up to Yoda action figures on the night stand *shudder*). For about a month I over looked these things because I knew, that uniform was just waiting for him to put back on and the minute he did it made hovering everytime I had to pee at his place worth it (aren't military men supposed to be super clean?) But alas, I did finally reach a point where I thought, alright, this has been lovely John, but I am going to have to exit the ride at this time, I think I just heard the words "meet" and "mother" in the same sentence.
After changing my phone number and avoiding the town he resided in for a month or two I had some time to think....sure he was dumb....and sure he was a little weird....but Sweet Jesus was he HOT. I learned a few very important lessons from John, Star Wars IS as dorky as I always thought, theres nothing worse than puking in a dirty toilet after a night of drinking, and a man in uniform for me is like a new flavor of ice cream, I just HAVE to try him out!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)