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Since you liked my ass so much (the one with the pretty red bow), my Sir said that I should present my tits to you, with a little something extra. Please post this and I hope you enjoy. 

Oh my goodness. I’m kind of speechless. I’m here sitting with all my sads and then I get this sweet little submission to follow up on the cute booty from yesterday. 

Is that lipstick? Marker? I never thought I’d see my blog name written on somebody and it’s ultra-flattering and I don’t know what I did to deserve this and thank yooou.

are you in chicago?

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I assume this is because I posted “Pulaski at Night.” 

I’m not. The “come back to Chicago” is metaphorical. The song’s about having these experiences and trying to relate them to somebody who isn’t there, but being unable to replicate them because they really just kind of had to be there. I think, at least, the song’s kind of speaking to missing someone and being forlorn because you can’t share certain moments with them.

Sorry, I’m being a cheeseball. I’m going on a run.

I did something really naughty today.

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Sir says part of shaking off my shame is owning up to these parts of myself. So, I’m supposed to write about what I did and be very brave about it. 

I made the mistake of reading this in a public place. I then proceeded to masturbate to it, also in a (semi-)public place. I admitted it to Sir, who told me I should tell all of you.

I’m super embarrassed admitting this, but Sir says “it’s too blushy” isn’t my safeword. And he’s right. So, here’s to me trying to be brave about this part of myself but oh God I’m gonna go hide under a rock right now thanks.

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herdirtylittleheart:

Here’s why posts like this (and other “kids these days *shakes fist* ” type sentiments) rub me the wrong way:

Do you know why our parents/grandparents/etc stayed together? BECAUSE THEY HAD NO OTHER OPTIONS! They lived in a time when divorce was against their religion or frowned upon by their culture. One of my great-grandmothers divorced her cheating alcoholic bum of a husband and was literally shunned from her entire small European village. She had to take her daughters (who she was protecting) and move, and in their new town they just told everyone her husband had DIED to avoid the negative stigma of divorce. And you know what? I bet she would have LOVED the opportunity to have messages from 7000 followers saying “go girl” and “you can do this” and “your hair looks cute” when she was going through her darkest days. 

The number of couples that were stuck in abusive, loveless or unhappy marriages is staggering. The number of couples NOW stuck in abusive, loveless or unhappy marriages is also staggering. Divorce is a good option for a lot of people. (So is not getting married in the first place… but that’s a different rant.)

Yes social media can be addictive and detrimental to anyone (coupled or not) who ignores their real life partner(s) in favour of online connections, but the same can be said for ignoring your partner for work, sporting events, candy crush, fantasy football leagues, video games or any number of things. A relationship can only be successful if it is given the attention and maintenance it deserves. A relationship of any kind requires your presence

I (like so many of you) have found meaningful and loving relationships with friends and partners online and I really detest rhetoric that tries to say online relationships can’t have depth and purpose. 

In fact I come from a long line of women who could have benefited from looking around and seeing that there were PLENTY of fish in the sea. 

*steps off soapbox and swims by winking at you and waving my fishy fins glub glub*

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He gets a little cocky when he’s mixing drinks. He’s in a different element. 

I won’t even pretend for a second that I don’t like that.

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“The thing I’m most afraid of is me. Of not knowing what I’m going to do. Of not knowing what I’m doing right now.“ – Haruki Murakami, IQ84.

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I’m kind of obsessed with bondage that involves hair right now. 

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mirrorscape:

I have broken myself over you, and put myself back together piece by piece

compliment by compliment

success by success

until I am strange, but complete.

The cracks are there, but I have filled them with gold.

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So, Sir just gave me a new rule that Full Friday is now Flirty Friday, which entails that I have to send a nude to someone that isn’t him. 

(Obviously, someone we both know would be trustworthy about that sort of thing.)

As much as I pouted and whined about it, I’ve got to admit I’m not totally against the idea.