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. . .


Depression and Why I Show My Boobs

woman crying depressed

I feel empty. I feel like I’m suffocating. I don’t know if I’m going to make it through this time. I’ve been depressed for so long it’s like a continual numbness. I’m tired.

I’ve become more distant from my close friends. Sometimes it feels like they don’t understand why I’m doing this. They think I’m doing something wrong by talking about sex and showing my boobs or whatever. Most people don’t like that I’m showing my boobs.

Well ‘most people’, they’re my boobs and I can show them if I want.

I don’t have to justify it, but here are some justifications anyway.

People are too uptight about the naked body and I’m rebelling against that.

It like to do it.

Other people enjoy looking at my boobs so why should I always keep them covered if I can give people who want to see them pleasure? Of course, this is America and we live in a capitalistic society so I’m not just going to give them away for free. I have to pay rent, people.

Speaking of rent. This is where I’m most upset with myself. I’m actually a really hard worker. I spent the past year writing a book and a satirical self-help video series and developing this blog while doing freelance marketing. The freelance has run dry and the other things are still incubating from an income-perspective. I have applied to jobs but my heart isn’t it in. My heart is here in these creative projects.

That’s the original reason why I started the Patreon account. It turns out that people only really care about seeing my boobs, which in a way is easier but not really because it would be nice if people wanted to see my boobs AND support my creative endeavors but I suppose we can’t always get everything we want huh?

Sidenote.

I’ve had a lot of people reach out to me on Instagram while I was writing this. I realize that we’re all a mess to some degree or another and you all are brave for getting up and getting out there. I really respect your strength and wish I had a bit more of it. Of course, tomorrow is another day and perhaps I’ll be a go-getting show-stopping money magnet then.

And I’ll be able to lift others who are feeling down. We’re like one big team here on planet Earth. Or maybe the suffocation will continue. Who knows?!

Feel free to check out my patreon for the boobs or whatever.

Sometimes The Hardest Thing To Do Is Get Out of Bed

depression anger heat sadness

Yes, I’m Still Stuck In Bed, But I’m Working

or

Help! Send Food. And Beer.

Sure. I like talking about SEX. But that was never the entire intention of Go Eat a Carrot. The purpose was for me to let loose on all the truth I have bottled up in me. And what’s true today is that I’m tired of trying to conform to other people’s desires. Yes, there’s an entire world out there of sexploration to be had, but I’m not in the mood.

There I said it, the horniest woman on the planet is not in the mood.

We must have entered an alternate universe.

I’m hot. I’m overheated. I’m bordering the line of anger and depression. I could cave in and just embrace the gray but why do that when I can fight it off?

I haven’t been to the grocery store in weeks. The last thing I ate yesterday was BBQ leftover from my friend’s 4th of July party. You know, a party that happened more than a week ago. Somehow I’m still alive and mostly getting all of my calories from beer, which I also ran out of last night.

You know in Denver you can get all of the above delivered to you? Groceries, beer, even sex if you know how to use Tinder right.

But I refuse! I have two legs. I can walk to the store. Yet, I don’t. I open the fridge and go,

‘oh look, three rotting limes and one old carrot. Guess I’ll come back and look in here again in 15 minutes and hope things have changed.”

At least I still have hope even though nothing changes unless you actually do the things that make changes, hence why I’m still stuck here, hungry, thinking about making a lime/carrot juice.

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Wet & Wild Wednesday: This Boob’s For You

boobs instagram and body positivity

When You’re Angry and Depressed Just Get Naked

or

Your Body is Just a Body Moving Your Body Around

(Enjoy the video rant. An angry cry may occur in it)

I have, for many years, gone through phases where I fall into these dark holes. They’re dirtier and darker than anal holes let me tell you. Hippie-dippie people like to call it “the shadow self.” Whatever. It’s usually more menacing than a shadow, more like an empty cave that has a terrible heating and cooling system.

I care not about getting out of bed. I contemplate how I do not want to be here. And when I say here I mean Denver. I mean the United States. I mean Planet Earth. I mean here in this body.

I question my worth. I question every choice I’ve ever made. I question the people in my life and what might possibly be wrong with them to choose to spend time with me.

It starts as a simmer. Turns to a boil. Evaporates into nothingness.

The nothingness.

The care not.

The heavy gray blanket that suffocates and keeps me from moving forward.

I return to my body.

It’s funny because I imagine that many people think I’m putting up pics of my tits and ass on Instagram as some sort of desperate plea for attention. Of course, I enjoy attention but that’s not my motivation.

I do it because it’s what I have to give.

We’re all put into these vessels of flesh to learn and grow and connect. I happen to be blessed with a body that other people seem to enjoy looking at. What do I care if they look at it? Sure, I’m in charge with taking care of this thing and I could do a better job about that, but I believe we all should experience more pleasure. So here I am, mostly naked, giving strangers pleasure.

Perhaps deep down I’m just a giver with not much to give.

One day this body will be rotting in the ground and no one will want to look at it then so I might as well take some pics of it now so there’s digital proof of its existence.

I found a sentence in an old journal of mine that read,

“We’re all afraid of going after our dreams because if we fail, we will have nothing left.”

Well, I quit my job nearly a year ago to write a book. I wrote the first draft of that book.

And here I am left.
Nothing.

Yet, everything.

The opportunity to edit and write Draft 2.

The opportunity to keep showing off my boobs.

The opportunity to connect to you and you and you.

So sure, I like the attention, but it’s merely a side note to a much bigger picture. The concept that we get to move around in this package of bones and muscle and blood and skin and shit; that it’s all we really have right here where we are until we are not here anymore.

So fuck it. I embrace the dark. The light. The unknown. The complete and total hot mess that I am. And of course, I embrace the boobs.

Become a Go Eat A Carrot Patron on Patreon!

Follow me on all the Social Media

Instagram
Twitter
Facebook

Show support by purchasing something for me from my Amazon Wish List (I’ll review whatever gets sent my way!)

Need Toys? Here Are Links to My Top 3 Favorite Brands:

Tantus

We-Vibe

Lelo

Let’s Talk About Sex and Liberalism, Baby

Did A Blow Job Open My Throat Chakra?

or

How I Can No Longer Stay Silent About Any Of This Shit Anymore

Because I promised to tell the whole truth or the (hole truth depending on how pervy you are) here are the videos of me trying to explain what I’m doing. Yes, I repeat myself. I was only going to use one of these clips, then I thought, fuck it. I’m not perfect. You can see how I’m not perfect in this series in multiple ways. Also, I talk about this one specific blow-job and how I’m no longer a liberal– a lot below. So. Watch one or all or none of them, whatever.

Just Trying to Figure Out What I’m Doing Here aka Breathing onto Camera

First Take On Why I’m Even Doing This

I Have No Idea What I’m Doing

Second Take On Why You Should Go Get Your Carrot Wet

Not a Liberal or a Republican, Just a Slut

The Beginning of Go Eat a Carrot

Or

Krystal Says Goodbye to Her Liberal Identity and Hello to Pleasure

Here enjoy my manic breakdown episodes from a few days ago. I explain how I got to this point below in a long-winded story. I’ll be posting videos for the next 30 days, starting today.

Breakdown 1: Fuck

(It’s not easy being honest with the world)

Breakdown 2: How a Blow Job Opened My Throat Chakra.

Breakdown 3: Goodbye Hats, Goodbye Guilt

(aka let’s all get slutty)

Breakdown 4: This is what Mania Looks Like

(aka go take a nap)

Here’s how this all unfolded. I was in bed, depressed for like the 10,000th day of my life and I was thinking about how there was this conspiracy theory post that said, “If the government wants to take your guns then you probably need a gun.” It was weird because it was clearly a Republican-leaning person posting that meme but I still resonated with it and sort of wanted to go buy a gun.

I thought back to all of my beliefs I’ve had throughout my life. What had gotten me to that point where I was actually listening to the other side? Through a series of thoughts, I decided that maybe I was no longer a liberal after all. It didn’t necessarily have to do with guns either. Admittedly Roseanne was the last straw. I was on Instagram and I saw a post where Republicans were complaining about liberals complaining about Roseanne. I watched the show and realized that both sides were right and wrong at the same time and that I could agree and disagree with both sides equally.

Roseanne is a situational comedy. That means in 20 minutes they have to solve a situation (and do so in a funny way). And can you believe that a show was able to resolve one of the biggest situations we’ve faced in the last year? That of people no longer speaking to each other because of their political beliefs?

Yet, both sides were pissed about how the show did it.

It was at that point when I knew I could no longer label myself one way or the other. That I had to either go to the middle ground or become an outlier altogether. Instead of being liberal or conservative I instead want to align myself with the open-minded.

The real, truly open-minded. People who willing listen to all sides of an issue and can understand where all sides are coming from while still maintaining their own voice and opinions on the issue.

As this revelation came to me, so too did my guilt from the last 30+ years disappear and most importantly, my depression. I no longer feel dead inside.

Besides the obvious divisive political issues that the two parties constantly argue over, what came up for me once I released the label was an ability to better own my sexuality.

I believe that pleasure is an important element for a healthy existence. How one explores pleasure is up to the individual, but for me, with my background in feminism and liberalism, it has always been difficult to admit that I LIKE COCK. I enjoy spending time with men and with women and the beautiful people in between. I enjoy sex. And though so many liberals claim to be sex-positive, many define sex-positive in a very specific way.

A friend made a comment to me about how all the dudes on tinder just want to “get their carrots wet.” I had never heard anyone refer to a dick as a carrot. The next day I was at the Denver Central Market when I saw a basket full of the biggest carrots I had ever seen in my life. I told my date how excited I was to see such large carrots. He said he’d buy me one and I said if he did I would, “fuck that carrot.”

Suddenly there was the largest girthiest dildo-looking carrot in my hand. We continued on our date. It was evening by this point, we had both eaten an edible and were in bed together doing sexy things. The carrot was looking at us. I picked it up. I realized we hadn’t eaten in hours. I looked at the carrot. I looked at my date. I bit the tip of the carrot off.

Because sometimes you’re hungry for carrot and sometimes you’re hungry for dick and sometimes it’s funny to call a dick a carrot and then put it in your mouth.

If that carrot-dick opens up your throat chakra and then the edible keeps you up all night with thoughts on how you have to TELL THE WORLD YOU LOVE CARROTS then you might end up doing what I’m about to do for the next 30 days, which is tell you everything I know/think about politics and sex. It’s not a lot, hence why I’m doing it for 30 days (and also I have commitment issues). While I’m doing this I want to hear from you too. Comment, troll me if it gets you off. Let’s have a conversation about all of this. I can be wrong. I can be right. In the end, it doesn’t matter as long as we all are happy eating our carrots or peaches or whatever we like to stick in our mouths, which can be nothing at all too.