Go Eat A Carrot: Year in Review

go eat a carrot

Happy One Year Anniversary to Go Eat A Carrot

Almost exactly a year ago, on Easter Sunday to be exact, Go Eat A Carrot was born. I had gone on this fabulous rom-com date with a pretty decent dude, where he bought me a very large carrot as a Sin Day Sunday gift.

Later that night I had eaten an edible and instead of putting me to sleep it put me in this weird manic-y state of mind where I stayed up through the evening and came to the conclusion that I needed to start a blog. A blog about the truth, and sex and love and politics and food, but mostly about the truth and mostly about the sex truth. A blog where I told people to “go eat a carrot,” which of course is a triple entendre– my favorite kind of entendre.

It’s been a real fucking crazy year. It has been probably the craziest year of my life. I’m happy to still be alive (most of the time). It’s unclear at this point what’s going to happen with this blog. I said I’d write it for a year and I did. There were times I veered away from the truth because my audience was more concerned with the sex. I don’t want to do that anymore. I want to get back to the root of what this was–which was a way for me to express the bullshit and the beauty going on in my life and to connect with people over topics that we all enjoy exploring.

Anyway, it’s pretty interesting to realize that Easter comes from the Ishtar, the Assyrian and Babylonian goddess of fertility and sex. No wonder I had the idea for a sex blog on Easter. It’s my way of celebrating life. I create these little babies for you all, blog babies.

It’s been a struggle and a learning curve. I’ve had quite a time in this puritanical land talking about sex, even if I’m doing it from a sex positive perspective, on social media sites. I’ve also dealt with A LOT of really dumb DM messages, yet at the same time I’ve talked to some really amazing new people and I couldn’t be more thankful for that.

Here are some stats and some learnings from the first year of Go Eat a Carrot and some stats from my sex life during that time.

Go Eat A Carrot 2018-2019 Details:

  • Blogs: 79
  • Videos: 113
  • Pics: A billion
  • Instagram Followers: 3,393
  • Instagram Accounts Deleted: 2 (after 3K+ followers, rebuilt entire page, added a private page, which got deleted too.)
  • Instagram Accounts Still In Tact: 3
  • Subscribers on Youtube: 494
  • Strikes on Youtube: 2
  • Top Video: Hot Burning Man Sex (42.8K views)
  • Patreon Posts: 581 (deleted several after strike)
  • Strikes on Patreon: 1
  • Peak Patreon Patrons: 15
  • Current Patreon Patrons: 6

Sex/Dating Life Since:

  • One (to 2) night stands: 11
  • Friends with benefits: 5
  • Playthings: 3
  • Boyfriends/lovers: 1
  • Sociopaths: 1

Sex Highlights:

The night the Nun made a sex tape, the former-NBA player experience, the men capable of giving me multiple orgasms–thank you. Financial domination, monster porn, tentacle porn. Quick mental connections that end in friendships that actually last. Old friends returning to the story. Figuring out my patterns and ending them.

Sex Lowlights: The men who couldn’t, wouldn’t get me off. Dog porn. The toy with the app that failed to work. The guy who didn’t share his food the next morning, fuck that guy. The manboys who went back with their exes (yes, there were more than one). The Sociopath, enough said.

Happy Rabbit

The Hard (and soft) Lessons I’ve Learned:

Yes, I fell in love with a sociopath. I don’t talk about it much, mostly because it’s clear this guy is still stalking me and I don’t really want to add more fuel to the fire, but it was quite an ordeal that I’m still working through. For months I was furious. Not only angry at him but angry at myself.

The thing is, I’m working on forgiveness. Not because that’s what Jesus would do, but because it’s the only way I am going to be able to move on with my life. I can’t be mad at a monster for acting like a monster. I can’t be mad at myself for falling for a monster, because the truth of the matter there’s a little bit of monster in all of us.

Yes, I was drawn to the danger, the mystery, the excitement. Yes, I enjoyed the drama… until it went too far. I learned so much about myself from the experience though. I learned that I am stronger than I thought. I learned that I would rather be alive than walk around dead all the time. I learned what I definitely do not want in my relationships and I learned how to run away from red flags the moment they start waving their redness in front of me.

I also have learned what I do want. Stability, strength, simplicity. A balance of masculinity and femininity. Honesty. Truth. Fragility. Vulnerability. I want to be held with kindness, care, concern. I want to receive as much as I give– and I am quite a giver.

I’m not playing games anymore. Save the drama for your mama or anyone else that isn’t me because, nah. I’m done with that bullshit.

If people can’t handle it, if they can’t handle me, or they don’t want to put in the work, then guess what? They can just go eat a carrot.

That whole thing has been really fucking hard. It ripped me apart. It dragged me under and I started to drown. Everything else this past year has been minuscule in comparison; the men who left me for their exes, the ghosts, the guy with the girlfriend, the one nights stands that left me bored and unsatisfied, the time-wasters and super-pervs– nothing has come close to that pain and that torment. It’s my goal to make sure it never does again. Mindfuck me once, that’s all I need to never get mindfucked again.

Sure, I danced with the devil, but I knew he was the devil the entire time. The thing is, he wasn’t that good of a dancer and so I’ll just keep dancing on my own. No one can step on my feet that way.

Thanks for all the support for this past year–whether you’re a regular reader, a friend, a regular friend reader, I have appreciated you being there.

If you’d like to show your support for Go Eat A Carrot financially–which would be quite helpful indeed, become a Patron on Patreon, buy me something from my Amazon Wishlist, or buy yourself something nice from one of my affiliate sites:

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Woo for Play

Thanks again! Don’t forget to eat your carrots. Nom Nom Nom.

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What is the Root Cause of Cheating?

why people cheat

Once a Cheater Always a Cheater, Not Exactly.

Cheating–it’s a touchy subject, but a subject that has been on my mind for quite some time. Admittedly, I have cheated, been cheated on, and been the person who someone has cheated on someone else with. Does this mean that I live in a valueless world full of people who have no morals? Maybe. Though, not exactly.

Are only people who have no values the ones who cheat? No. Plenty of mostly morally-okay people have been known to dip in where they don’t belong.

Is cheating just a whim brought on by desire to fulfill sexual needs? Seems much more rare than mainstream movies would have you believe.

Of course, there are a plethora of reasons why a person cheats. They could do it because they’re bored. They could do it because they’re lonely within a stagnant relationship. They could do it because they’re a sociopath who cares not about the damage they’re creating. They could do it because they’re selfish or stupid or because they think they can get away with it.

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But what seems to be at the root of many cheating scenarios is a flirtation with freedom, a renegotiation of self, a statement that says, ‘no one owns me,’ or ‘see, I can still do what I want.’ In a way, it’s the creation of an ‘out.’

If I do this terrible thing then I can get out of this relationship at any time. All I’d have to do is come clean.

This “secret” is more of a key that will unlock the door to the possibility of no longer being in the relationship they’re in.   

Why do people do this?

Fear. Insecurity. Not fully trusting themselves. Not investing 100% in another because they think deep down that they could never truly be loved. Causing pain before the other person can cause it first. An upper hand. A backup plan.

In other words, self-sabotage.

We see it often in relationships where one person is too clingy; we see it in relationships where one person is too distant. And honestly, that line is a fine one. Every person has their own level of need, space, attachment. Can we blame it on that, no. But, we’re talking about root causes of human behavior, we’re not talking about whether it’s a good or bad choice.   

Yet, just because a person cheats on another person does not mean they do not love the person they’re in a relationship with. This culture puts almost too-much weight on fidelity–hence why people use it as an out.

As anyone who has used Tinder can attest, it is possible to have sex without attachment.

Vice versa to that, it’s possible to have attachment without sex.

And even going further, it’s possible to be in love with someone you have sex with and also have sex with people you’re not in love with.

The core of the issue is not about sex. It’s the value-systems in place. Can I trust this person? Will this person abandon me? Can I rely on this person to be there for me to help when I need it, to celebrate my wins? Etc.

So cheating, in essence, is more a violation of these values. Is there a way to hold those values and have sex with other people? Certainly.


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I’ll explore more of the topic of cheating to come. It’s a complicated one, full of twists and turns.

Join my Patreon for exclusives AND stay tuned for a Freaky Fan Friday cheater confession that you’ll only see there!

I’m Moving, Maybe

moving out of denver

On Finding My Place

Moving Out of Denver

Come this July I will have lived in Colorado for an entire decade. There are plenty of reasons why I love this state, if I didn’t love it I wouldn’t have been here for the last ten years.

Along with the spectacular mountain views and the ridiculous amount of craft beer, Colorado has come to symbolize freedom for many people who live and move here. Sure, a lot of that has to do with us being one of the first states to legalize recreational marijuana, but it’s more than that. There’s something in the arid air. There’s a DIY mentality here, or better than that, a do-what-you-want mentality.

Yet, as of late I’ve found myself antsy.

I’m not sure if this is where I belong any longer yet I have no idea where I’d want to go.

I know that I seek nature and community and most of all, water. It’s like my soul needs to be cleansed. I need to soak in mother nature’s womb and become reborn. Because I have no idea what I’m doing, what I want to do, or really who I am in anymore.

Will submerging myself in the ocean actually help me? It’s hard to tell but it’s clear I’m not growing by staying in the same place I’ve been.

When I quit my 9 to 5 job to venture out into the world freelance, I knew it would be hard but I didn’t realize the toll it would take on my overall identity. I was amazed to find how much of my own worth I aligned with work. And when I didn’t have as much work coming in, my self-worth hit an all-time low and I made some decisions that severely impacted my will to live.

I overcame that death-wish though. But now I’m left in the process of trying to create a new me. One who knows what she wants and gets it. They say you can manifest whatever you want into being, but they don’t ever tell you how to figure out what that ‘want’ is.

Moving? Here’s some fancy label tape.

I’ve always known that I wanted to be a writer. And so I have always written. Yet, as a writer you are also a collector–of stories, ideas, details. I have more often than not, tried to see the world through other people’s perspectives. I have almost always chosen the story over my own sanity or safety or even a basic good night’s sleep. It’s become clear to me that just like people choose their battles, I need to start choosing my stories. I need to start saying, ‘no thanks’ to certain shenanigans, certain people, and start choosing new ways of being instead.

That’s one of the reasons why I feel compelled to move. Patterns are much easier to repeat in a place that you have repeated them for so long. Stagnation sets in much quicker in a bedroom where you’ve spent years depressed.

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Even though I have a wild imagination regarding our world and the people who live in it, sometimes I have a difficult time turning that imagination inward. So, I’m going to try it out, see how it goes, it will surely go somewhere, which is better than nowhere at all.

If you live by a large body of water and want a house guest for a few days let me know! I’m down to try new places and see if they’re a good fit.

Exclusives all month long on Patreon, including Monday Joke Day, Freaky Fan Friday, Erotica Readings and yes, some adult nudity.

Tell Me If This is Funny: Hot Sauce Litmus Test

hot sauce and dating

Would you rather go on a date with your last bad date again or get hot sauce in a not hot place?

Last night I was all fired up. This is not uncommon. I have a fiery disposition.

Sometimes when I’m feeling frustrated or angry or I’m just trying to work through some issues I find myself talking to people who aren’t there in the mirror.

No, I don’t mean imaginary people.

I mean real people that I have met in real life who just happen to not be present while I am having the conversation.

I suppose it is not a conversation since they have no opportunity to rebuttal.

I guess you’d have to call it a monologue directed at a specific individual who will never hear it. Whatever. I know for a fact that I am not the only one who has these sorts of mirror monologues.

Anyway, last night I was having this anger-filled mirror monologue as I was getting ready for bed. In between washing my face and brushing my teeth etc. I was yelling all sorts of things at this dude.

These were not nice things.

There was a lot of name-calling, a lot of calling out this dude’s bullshit, several sentences that went something like:

“sometimes I wish that I tried to be less understanding of other people’s motivations and instead just told them to fuck off without hearing their point of view.”

Things like that.

I called him an asshole.

I was taking out my contacts around the same time I was calling him an asshole. I sort of forgot that right before I decided to go to bed I had eaten a cheese quesadilla covered in hot sauce.

You can imagine what happened next.

Oh yes. The residual hot sauce made a lasting impression on my eyeball. And by lasting I mean it burnt like a motherfucker for about 10 to 15 seconds in which I immediately began apologizing to the man in the mirror who wasn’t really there.

I was like, “FINE, YOU’RE NOT AN ASSHOLE!”

Then the hot sauce eye burning went away.

And I was like, okay, maybe you’re a little bit of an asshole but would I go through that entire dating experience again versus having hot sauce go in my eyeball?

Yes.

Yes. I would even rather go on a date with him again knowing fully the exact kind of asshole he is than have hot sauce go anywhere near my eye.

That’s how much it hurts to have hot sauce in the eyeball.


Now, I have decided that this is going to be the litmus test for all of my past, present, and future relationships.

Does this hurt more than hot sauce in the eye?

If yes, never speak to person again.

If no, then don’t yell at them in the mirror when they cannot reply back. Instead, say it to their face with hot sauce in hand and if they say something mean to you throw the hot sauce in their eye!


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Or don’t. You do you. Fight dirty, clean, or hot, it’s up to you.

Anyhoo.

What would you choose: hot sauce in the eye or another date with your last bad relationship?

Get exclusives and answer the poll on the Go Eat a Carrot Patreon!

The Benefits and Disadvantages of Friends with Benefits

fuck buddies and friends who fuck

What to Expect from Friends with Benefits

Friday Feels: Heavy with Friendships

When I think of the difference between friends with benefits and fuck buddies one distinct difference comes to mind — friend versus fuck. While the former, ‘friends with benefits’ seem to indicate that you’re friends first and the sex comes as a bonus and fuck buddies seem to mean that the main basis of your buddy-buddy-ness comes due to the fucking.

In other words, there is at least some mental/emotional connection when you decide to be ‘friends with benefits’ with another person.

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That being said, the difference between a friend with benefits and a girlfriend/boyfriend (gender combo that however you need) lies with the expectations and responsibilities.

Friends with benefits have lower expectations of each other and require less responsibility. These relationships often form when people are in a transitionary period of their lives– they just got out of something heavy or they started a new job and don’t have time to focus on deeper romantic connections.

I’ve been contemplating whether this formation is actually healthy or not. I suppose it comes down to the two people directly involved. We all know that these are relationships that do not last. Yet, it doesn’t mean they can’t be helpful.

Anytime you interact with another person is a moment to learn more about yourself and the world around you, but is the ‘friend with benefits’ helping your growth or just distracting you from figuring out your shit?

Feels like it’s a distraction for the body even though deep down the mind (or spirit or both) wants something else.

We’re afraid to get to close because all of past issues have built up to the point where we are not ready for the pain of the let down of another person–who will inevitably let you down, just like you will inevitably let someone else down.

The thing is–the let down is unavoidable. To fully experience love in all of its capacity, one has to be open to the pain. Most people can’t handle the pain part and want to hold on to fragments of love, fragments of the good parts and avoid all of the rest.

I wonder if you’re in a stage where you can only give a fragment of yourself if you should really give that away at all? Maybe instead you should work toward rebuilding the self?

How many times have you been in a friend with benefits situation to have the benefits end and still remain friends? That is no easy task. I’d say 85-95% of the time one person develops stronger feelings than the other and has the desire to turn it from an fwb into a real deal sort of thing.

What makes friends with benefits less real than the girlfriend/boyfriend label?

Perhaps because within the friend with benefits label there is an understanding at least subconsciously if not obviously that whatever you have together isn’t as valuable, isn’t as serious, will most definitely come to an end.

I will say this, even though the friends with benefits scenario has lower expectations I’ve concluded that if I am ever going to be in one, my friend has to act like a friend and the benefits have to be beneficial.

Here are my three expectations of friends with benefits:

  1. The friends exchange an equal amount of attention, both of them playing the part of a friend, actually caring, asking questions, texting back etc.
  2. The friends equally initiate invitations (not just a 3 am ‘wyd?” text every Friday)
  3. The friends have consistent sexual relations with each other where both enjoy the benefits (she cums too).   

Of course, every person in every form of relationship has their own individual desires and expectations. Those are mine and I don’t find them too much to ask. If it’s difficult or the person doesn’t have the time or energy to do those things then that person shouldn’t be in a friend with benefits scenario with me. That’s all there is to that.

To be honest, I’m contemplating taking a break from men and sex altogether but that’s a story for a different day. Perhaps after I’ve contemplated the pros and cons of that choice in more detail. I’ll still masturbate though and maybe even film it (ask for more details on this if interested).

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May all your relationships in whatever formations be healthy and stimulating in one way or the other.

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Birthday Reflections: Getting Around

on aging

It is My Birthday.

I Am Still Here.

Today is my birthday and I am happy to be alive. I haven’t always been happy to be alive, particularly on my birthday.

In fact, the last two birthdays I was super depressed and dreaded the fact that my birthday existed at all. I did a lot of crying out of a sort of pain and emptiness.

But, I’ve been working on filling myself back up; today I cried for a moment too, not out of pain but because of all the beauty in this world.

As I reflect back on my 34 years on this planet I am in awe that I have made it this far.

And more than awe I am in a deep state of gratitude for all that I have and all that I’ve shared with so many amazing people on this planet.

I recently matched with this Dude-Bro-PUA(pick-up artist)-Troll on Tinder who ended up calling me all sorts of hateful names when I called him out on his behavior. One name he called me was “old,” which is funny on all sorts of levels. One, he was like 2 years younger than me. Two, I’m only 34. People live to like over a hundred these days. 34 is nothing in the grand scheme of what we experience as time.

Of course, because my birthday was coming up, that particular adjective stuck with me more than the others. There is truth in it too. There is a bit of pain in it as well. Yes, I am old. I am older than I was yesterday even. Yet, if I wasn’t this old I may not be as wise as my former self who would have probably hate-fucked that guy just to “teach him a lesson.”

Yeah, no, I am all of my former selves and also none of them.

I believe it was Sandra Cisneros who wrote in House of Mango Street (though I could be wrong because I couldn’t find it), “When you turn five you are also still four and three and two and one.”

Something like that.

I feel like we often don’t look at it that way. For example, I may be 34 but there could be times when the five-year-old me comes out or the 21 year old etc etc.

Because we are a collection of our experiences and yet we are also not. They shape us but they do not make us. We make ourselves. There is a core to us all, an essence if you will. A lot of our experiences shade that essence and then we try to hide the core of who we are to avoid pain. Yet, that avoidance is pain. The pain is still there. The hiding, the mask, causes more suffering than the pain. Better to just face the pain and return to the lightness of your being–if you will.

There is also pain in the realization that each moment we live we are one breath closer to death. Yet, this is only for people who subscribe to the linear version of time. All of those moments of my life and your life still exist somewhere in time. Death is just another unfolding of our experience on earth. The earth will continue on and so will the essence of who we are.

Maybe.

Who knows for certain.

In any event, my life so far has been filled with some of the most amazing people on this planet and if you’re reading this you are probably one of them, so thank you for being you. Even if I don’t like you, thank you because it’s just a reflection of something I don’t like about myself — and all I can do is grow from that discomfort.

So yeah, I’m old.

Fuck yes. It feels good to get old. To have all of this time to explore myself and the world around me. To have breakdowns and breakups; moments of pure joy and connectivity, moments of weakness, anger, fear, to feel a sense of peace, to know it will all work out even when it’s not working out, to feel a part of the universal unfolding and not separate from it or competing with it. Plus, to have all this gratitude and love and sex and good beer and everything and nothing.

Cheers to being old.

See my in my original outfit aka my Birthday Suit AND hear my Birthday Suit song when you become a patron on PatreonLowest tier is just $1. Don’t you want to give a girl a $1 for her birthday?!

Mistakes Were Made: A Sexual Health Confession

sexual health

A Sexual Health Update

Or

I Made a Whore-able Decision

I must make a confession.

I didn’t quit the sociopath when everyone thought that I had.

I mean I did. But then he seeped back into my life.

That’s right, seeped.

I thought I was in love with him. Turns out he was a master manipulator, a pathological liar, and of course, a narcissist (they always seem to go together don’t they?). I’m not going to go into more detail quite yet but needless to say, he was seeing multiple women on a regular basis and banging everything else that moved in front of him–without a condom.  

Usually I am adamant about condom use.

I failed.

I am not perfect.

Of course, I was upset that he fucked with my mind, my emotions, my spirit, but I was really pissed off that he compromised my sexual health.

It’s been two weeks, which is the amount of time it takes for the most common STIs to form in the body. At Planned Parenthood today I peed into a cup to test for chlamydia, gonorrhea, and trichomoniasis, this takes a week to get back the results. So here we wait. The other sexually transmitted diseases like syphilis as an example, take around three months to form in the body, so we wait some more.

I also had an HIV finger-poke blood test. I am, thankfully, HIV negative.

Finally, I received a vaginal swab exam. That is when they stick the metal duck bills inside you then take a giant q-tip and swirl it around after which they then analysis under the microscope. They’ve started warming up the metal duck bills and I’ll tell you right now, I prefer them cold. That was a bizarre sensation.

So, what did the doctor find when she looked under the microscope?

I bet a few of you smart cookies can guess.

That’s right. BV. Bacterial Vaginosis. An overgrowth of bacteria found in the vagina. Basically, my pH balance is off. This can occur really easily in women. It can occur even easier if the woman has multiple partners. Or in my circumstance, if the man she’s sleeping with has multiple partners and doesn’t wash his dirty dick. (If you stick your penis into one vagina and then hours later stick it in another, you’re going to transfer some unwanted stuff around. Science.)

So, my male readers, I behoove you, I beg you, if you’re going to be a slut, be an ethical one and take a fucking shower between your conquests. (Please, also, don’t refer to them as conquests). Also, we should all wear condoms, but since I am not the poster-child for this and have failed at doing the one thing I preach, I am writing it more for myself than for you, my reader.     

This is not the sexiest of sex topics, but sexual health is vital for one’s physical and mental and spiritual well-being. I would have preferred to not talk about this at all, but I also believe in transparency and this is my current state of being.

I made a mistake by having unprotected sex with someone I trusted (that I should not have trusted) and that’s on me.

I got out of it pretty lucky, to be honest. This will go away in a week and isn’t even an STI, just an annoying imbalance.  

The nurse practitioner said something along the lines of “we’ll get rid of that bad bacteria once and for all.” For a second I thought she was talking about the guy and I guess in a way she was.

He will no longer be seeping back into my life that’s for sure.

Sometimes the lessons we learn are hard. Or come from a hard place. Either way, starting with a clean slate, 7 days of antibiotics and no drinking. I’ll be so fresh, like basically a virgin again. Sometimes better things come to those who wait.

Tits Out Truth Bombs Tuesday: Navigating Through A World That Hates Sex


I Don’t Know What The Fuck I’m Doing

or

How I Violate Community Guidelines Every Day of My Life

As many of you have probably noticed I’ve taken a bit of a breather from the blog. There were multiple reasons for this such as holiday travel / family gatherings, falling in a deep dark well of depression, and getting in trouble yet again on yet another online social platform.

I was left feeling rather stuck. Rather annoyed. I began questioning everything I’ve been doing the last nine months. Like, why am I continuing to talk about sex when every time I do I find myself getting spanked quite unpleasantly by a bunch of puritanical freedom-of-speech haters?

So far I’ve gotten warnings, strikes, deletions etc. from Instagram (complete deletion), Tinder (flagged and removed photo), Patreon (forced deletion of content), Mailchimp (deletion of account), and YouTube (two strikes). I’ll tell you, it’s getting old.

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I’m talking about this not to necessarily whine about my predicaments (or preDICKaments haha) but to point out that this is not just a violation of my freedom of speech, but of everyone else’s freedom to learn, explore, discover. Sexuality shouldn’t be shamed. We should be able to express it without the fear of being removed from a platform. It’s not my fault or your fault that the creators of these platforms can’t differentiate between pornography and sexual expression / education.

I don’t even know where to begin on the issues I’ve had regarding the promotion of sex toys. I guess adults aren’t allowed to play?

But to be completely honest, yes this has been frustrating but more than that, I’ve gotten bored.

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Who knew that sex could become so boring?

Well, now I know when it becomes a chore to talk about it, take sexy pics on the regular, always be researching it, etc. doing it because I have to test something or try something to discuss it later, that’s when it becomes boring. At times it feels like way too much surface and not enough depth. Yes, I have nice tits, but that’s not necessarily interesting. It’s just how my body grew into itself.   

Thus I’ve been struggling with what I want to do with this blog. Initially it was designed as a way for me to release the truth of what I know (which isn’t much tbh) into the world. Much of what I know is about sexuality because that’s what my background education is in, but that’s not really getting to the truth of much.

So, this next year, I’m going to go back to my original intent. I’ll still talk about sex, dating, relationships etc. but I’ll be throwing in other random topics as well because I want to entertain myself. Yes, I love having readers. I love having your support. But, if I veer away from the root of who I am it will all become vapid and get lost in internet space.


You can play if you want to… Tantus G-Spot or P-Spot Dildos. Click on Image to explore further.

Side note, I’m still working through the issues with Patreon, but I hope to have some new posts up soon, perhaps today and definitely the usually Freaky Fan Friday video and erotica readings.

If you want to show your support without supporting Patreon feel free to email me to discuss the best ways to tip.

Thank you all for your patience as I renew and refresh this blog and all my other social media pages. May your pleasure always come first.

Just saying the same stuff but out loud. . .


Holiday Single Survival: What To Say When The Dreaded Question Pops Up

When Your Family Asks About Your Dating Life

I love going home for the holidays. All I do is eat food, cruise around the gravel roads looking for deer, drink beer, watch terrible cable tv, laugh with my family etc. I’ve been single for a long time. So long in fact that I can’t even think of the last person I took home over Christmas to introduce to my family. I’ve become a professional at dealing with the question. You know what I’m talking about. You’re at the dinner table or you’re all drinking Long Island Iced Teas while eating pounds of desserts your mom has been baking all month, everything going along swimmingly when out of nowhere, someone, most likely your mother or your best friend from high school has to ask, “So, you seeing anyone special?”

Perhaps this question doesn’t bother you. If that’s the case, see you at my next blog. If you are single and it does get under your skin, here are some suggested clapbacks and/or legitimate responses.

Lovehoney.com The Sexual Happiness People

The Deflection

Nothing says, “I don’t want to talk about this with you” than a classic distraction. Look toward the window. Furrow your brow. Hurry over, say, “what in the heecckk is that?” They’ll all rush over. That’s when you come up with something strange you thought you saw, “I swear I just saw a dude wearing an all-orange jumpsuit walking down the street with an accordian,” or “strange, it looked like a wolf, but maybe it was just a dog? You have feral dogs wandering your neighborhood now?” etc etc. Of course, the deflection typically only works for a few moments, days max, and then someone somewhere will find the nerve to bring it up yet again.

The Ego Stroke

This one is great because the phrasing of it makes the people around you feel special.

“I’ve been putting myself out there but I have yet to find anyone that meets the standards I learned to look for by being around such an amazing family.”  

Blunt Truth

Just say it like it is, “No. There’s no one special.”

The Turn-Around

If they continue to annoy you, it’s always a joy to flip the question back on to them, “How’s your love life going?” Because regardless of whether they’re married or dating “someone” special that doesn’t mean they get a pass and should be out of the clear. No relationship is perfect and it can be helpful for them to get a taste of their own medicine. Perhaps, they’re realize what it feels like to be asked such questions and will refrain from doing so in the future.

Self Love

“I’m focusing on my career and discovering hobbies I love to do. I recently started learning how to _____ and it’s been fun.”

If the person says something along the lines of, “well you should really get out there and date more.” You can always hit them with a statistic like, “from all the research I’ve done with regards to dating etc. every dating coach / advice column etc. suggests the best way to find love is to do the things you love. You’ll meet people that way and then you’ll already have a common connection, so, in this way I AM dating, by dating myself.”

The SnP

From one of the greatest rap groups of all time, Salt n Peppa comes the lyrics, “It’s none of your business,” which you could always just start playing the song to the horror of your grandma (not my grandma, she’s the one I used to listen to it with) or you could say the same thing more gracefully like, “I’d prefer to leave my private life, private.”

Do you have a line you like to use? Or a strategy you employ when dealing with unwanted questions from your family? Leave your comments below. I’m always down for trying to tactics.  


Tits Out Tuesday: Free the Nipple Breast Anatomy 101

The Obsession with Tits and Freeing Them On the Internet  

or

How Do Boobs Work?

Boobs, tits, knockers, jugs, melons. There are hundreds of words out there that we use to describe breasts. The thing about these words is that they are sometimes not even close to being an accurate description. For instance, the use of the word “tit” to describe the entire boob area has always kind of weirded me out.


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The free the nipple movement and Tits Out Tuesday have the potential to help people understand some of the anatomical differences of the breast. The reasoning behind the free the nipple movement stems from two main issues:

1) freedom of speech 2) body oppression

In other words, it’s a double standard that men are allowed to be topless on social media sites and women are not. The difference is a sexualization of women’s bodies — the part most people are attracted to is actually the fat.

The female breast is comprised of muscle, fat, mammary ducts, lobules, the areola, and the nipple (there’s more too, but let’s keep it as simple as possible).

I’d like to point out that the areola and the nipple are two different things as many men have commented that I must have really large nipples, when in reality it’s the areola area that takes up more space on my boobs.


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Of course, boobs come in all shapes and sizes as we are all well aware. There are pointy boobs, round boobs, saggy boobs, perky boobs, boobs with very long nipples, boobs with inverted nipples, etc. Everyone who has boobs (unless they’re fake boobs) has asymmetrical boobs, that is, one is slightly (or more than slightly) larger than the other. This has to do with the fact that most people are left or right hand dominant and the use of one side of the body more than the other creates a natural change in size.

Perhaps most of us are attracted to the female breast because they represent the beginning of life. Without milk, babies wouldn’t survive. There’s the evolutionary allure that makes us perk up at the sight of nice breasts because it makes the person seem more sexually compatible, more likely to feed those babies real good. Or be fed real good. Or both.

The censorship of the breast is a censorship of human sexuality. It’s more acceptable to see violence than boobs, which is bullshit.

The Free the Nipple Movement has gained women some breast rights; in the sense that they can now post pics of themselves breastfeeding actual babies, but other than that the censorship is still rather ridiculous. Hence why there are so many emojis-over-the-tit pics running around out there.


If there was less of a taboo on seeing female boobs, would they have as much sexual appeal? The law of the forbidden would say, no. But, I don’t think it would completely end the sexual appeal because boobs will be boobs and they will always have the ability to lure people in.

The question then becomes, is there anything behind the boobs? For example, a heart? Or better yet, do that boobs come with brains? Does your boner? Things to really think about. In the meantime, if you want to look at some uncensored pics of my boobs you can join in on all of the exclusive content on my Patreon. The more the merrier! Hope to see you there.