the perfect date

rough sex and zombie movies.

:::sigh:::

i hate you

i hate you for all of the things i wanted you to be that you aren't.

i hate you for making me fall for you.

it was all just smoke and mirrors, and i hate that too.

i hate you because my power door locks aren't working, because Obama's president, because my panties are too big and my ass too small.

i hate you because it took over a year for you to tell me this would *never* be real.

i mostly hate my power door locks right now. they're far more important than you ever were.

throat fucker was right

it was too good to be true.

i hate that he's always right.

and they think we're nuts?

I've had my fill of boys for a while, I think.

This weekend started out promising, and quickly devolved into a comical missed nonportunity, the promise of good things to come, a stalker, good things heading south for the evening, followed by a blast from my (recent) past.

We (Jes, DustyBalls and The Criminally Hot Brother, aka TCHB [not to be confused with Hot Jewish Rocker Dude, aka HJRD]) went to Dallas for Nellie's wedding. Three long hours of DustyBalls and TCHB talkin' redneck shit talk. It was adorable.

Have I mentioned I live in Texas? That I'm acclimating well enough to find hot redneck shit talkers adorable, I'm also still east coast enough to realize that they are still rednecks and I can make fun of them to their faces...they actually get the jokes. And I take Jew jokes from them all the time. Fair game.

Anywho.

Super high, Waco, bathrooms, mothering TCHB in an effort to smooth into some mild flirting, wedding, sun, beer, more pot, cigarettes (ah, but they were the last for real this time), food, hotel, shower, hanging out with the bride and groom, beer, pizza and Quick and the Dead.

TCHB and I share a bed. Nothing happens. No cuddling, no morning wood pressed into my back. It was literally like sharing a bed with one of my brothers. Jes, Dusty and I tease him mercilessly about his lack of ass play. It's really nice to have dudes with whom I can have sexual conversation and them not be all up in my shit. In my heart I truly do belive he's my Austin HJRD (and if you don't have one of these in your life, you *must* get one. His fabulous. And deserves fabulousness).

Besides, TCHB is a manwhore and always has 2-3 girlfriends floating about him.

He also seems to be somewhat of a good luck charm, since I was poking him in the ribs when a text message came in from Houston (formerly Naked Boy on myspace). He's coming to town, wants to destroy my ass, etc and so forth.

yay!

Of course I don't hear from him for hours on end and then he's trying to find a place for his friend and his dog. In the interim, I have texted St. Louis to tell him I am horny. I do not expect a response.

He fucking responds. Hesitantly, standoffish and snobbish at first, but he responds. He's so weird. I think he's trying to teach me a lesson, 'cause I've been the aggressor of late. He's not very good at taking the reigns--winds up driving all the way over here, demanding that i open the gate for him so he can come over and i can ride him.

Um, no, and I've already explained this to him so when he knocks on my door I don't answer. I never let him in--he waited for someone to open the gate and snuck in. It kind of freaked me out so when I got a random text message from some vaguely familiar number came through i got defensive.

"Is this The Music Dude?", I cautiously texted. He'd just quit me a month or so ago, and it was then that I'd learned of a little situation i like to call 'the wife' (yes I was pissed, but had already plotted revenge. it backfired).

"How many Music Dudes do you know?", he texted back.

I told him I needed to talk to him, that I *knew*, and that he shouldn't think I'd stalked him to find the info. I further explained that he'd only needed to be honest with me. Hell, he'd made me jump through hoops to prove my loyalty and I had believed that he was being honest with me from the get go.

It ultimately made no difference. He thought I went psycho girl on him until I explained (once again, having to explain how I'm not like every other chick he knows) to him that i googled a band he works with + his name and came up with enough easy places that all plainly stated he was married.

When I told him it didn't matter 'cause I was gonna keep my end of the bargain and be discreet, he breathed a sigh of relief and made me beg him to come over. Of course I did...he's the best damned throat fucker I have ever met. Tonight he had me bent over the sofa, toy in my cunt and head hanging over the edge. The door was unlocked and i was a bit panicked about that, but who wouldn't be when they're splayed out like that? He fucked my mouth while he smoked a bowl, using my throat for his pleasure and then fucked me with my toy until I'd squirted several times while he rubbed his ass across my face.

He came down my throat, pulled me upright, and got dressed. He mused that it didn't take him very long to come back to my amazing mouth and then we casually chatted for a bit about my crazy 36 hours, his crazy week, the 'wife' thing, discretion and how I deserve amazing things. He's not gonna quit me, but it'll never be frequent.

I'm okay with that.

I was lamenting to HJRD about my lack of sex, and while I still haven't gotten laid, I've shared a bed with a hot dude, gotten an offer from Houston, got stalked, postponed Houston to tomorrow AND had my throat fucked by The Music Dude.

What the fuck kind of crazy ass clam did I open this time?

RIP Farrah Fawcett

or Farrah Fawcett-Majors, as my father called her until the very end.

Yes, those are my nipples. No, they aren't the point, but it's a fucking sexy picture, no?

The Diary

I found an old diary of mine--one I started when Dan was still alive:

2/2/00

How is it possible that he could lie to me again? The only reason I *ever* agreed to do acid again was because E had some extras. Of course I have to find out later that he didn't have enough and Dan had to call B to get more. I wish C (B's wife) had never come back in my life. I hate her husband and I hold him responsible for Dan's behavior. Dan never felt he had to lie to me before he started hanging out with B.

I don't know how to trust Dan again. I'm so scared. All I ever wanted was to fall in love, get married and live happily ever after. No one ever told me that in between falling in love and getting married was this huge void of hell. I have to trust Dan. I don't have a choice. I hate feeling the way that I feel. I hate picking dumb fights for no reason. I hate wanting to leave this relationship because I'm scared of what's out there or more importantly, what's not out there. What if I never find anyone like Dan? What if he truly is my soulmate and I let him go? What if I can no longer take care of myself? I can't go running back to daddy.

It's funny to look back at my diary and see how completely co-dependent I was. The reality is that every fear I had came true. There was nothing I could have done to prepare myself for it.

Needless to say, I've done far more than just survive.

i'm back

miss me, bitches? i'll write more later--after i've set up my blog properly.

might take a little time...please be patient.