via: TokyoCandies.

“Child,” I announced firmly the day before I expected a new coat to show up. “We’re going to have to replace that coat.” And then I backed slowly away so as to avoid the flames from her anxiety-borne self-immolation over HAVING! TO WEAR! A NEW COAT! I held on with only imperceptibly-shaking hands to my composure while she wailed that this NEW COAT! would completely RUIN! her LIFE! She’d prefer to wear NOTHING! she said. She’d FREEZE! TO DEATH! and it would be all my fault for bringing this ruin upon her fair head. “I think it’s time for bed,” I replied, and scooted her up the stairs trailing complaints about the grievous cruelties of life.

The new garment arrived (and a few token dollars changed hands); I dumped the entire bag on out on the counter to sort through coat, matching hat, coordinating scarf and … a handful of tiny bras? A quick call to my upstream contact assured me that the bras were indeed meant for us. “She’s already out of her training bras; can you believe it?” Her daughter has sailed halfway through puberty while mine’s developmental boat languishes in dry-dock. “I know your kid isn’t ready for them yet, but I just wanted them out of the house.”

Sure, I told her. Perfectly understandable. And then I hid the bras, because if the replacement of an almost see-through winter coat caused that much angst I could only imagine the reaction bras would prompt.

But then somehow my hot-blooded child managed to wear her new coat without chunks of sky braining her. One of her friends  admired the soft fabric and fetching faux-leopard-skin design. The coat’s fate was sealed when she discovered a cunningly hidden interior pocket perfect for secreting whatever treasures her tiny heart favored on that day. I eyed the coat. With good care and an absence of excessive growth spurts we could make it last for two years — two years during which she could spend her wrath on something other than coats.

One night I caught her in a particularly good mood, humming Taylor Swift and angling for dibs on the last cupcake after her siblings went to bed. “These are for later,” I said, nodding toward the pile of white straps and fabric perched atop the rest of her clean laundry. “You won’t need them now, but when you’re ready you can try them on.”

She held one up in front of her face with as much disgust as if it were made of raw sewage stitched together with pig intestines. “I am not wearing this,” she said. “Never.”

I shrugged. “Ok. Just tuck them away in a drawer. You can give them to your sister when she’s older, then.” And miraculously, prompted by the hope for cupcakes, she did so without argument.

Weeks passed. Concern over both coat and bras grew dim. Then one day I wandered into her room as she was preparing for bed. “Look mom,” she said, and she lifted up the top of her jammies.

It was inside out and twisted but she was wearing one of the bras. It puckered sadly in the front as her chest as of yet but dreams of sprouting. “Awesome,” I told her. “What made you decide to try one on?” She had no answer; the same spirit which whispered revolt over a new coat clearly had other ideas about bras.

When a male baby unexpectedly joined my family nearly four years ago I was stunned anew when each load of freshly dried clothes tumbled out on the counter with blue items amid the omnipresent pink. It took months for the blue to lose its shock value, and I cannot imagine I’ll get used to bras in the wash any quicker.

via: Fuck Yeah Karl Elvis z-z: (via hiboobs)

People are supposed to fuck. It is our main purpose in life, and all those other activities—playing the trumpet, vacuuming carpets, reading mystery novels, eating chocolate mousse—are just ways of passing the time until you can fuck again.

— Cynthia Heimel

via Life through Poly Eyes

Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2009:

1. Coquitten (website)
2. Alexa (website)
3. AAG (website)
4. Bad, Bad Girl (website)
5. TBK (website)
6. Mistress Matisse (website)
7. Miss Mia (website)
8. Thursday’s Child (website)
9. Roger (website)
10. Sinclair (website)
11. Sylvanus…
12. and Mina (website)
13. Natt Nightly (website)
14. Jake (website)
15. Lyn (website)
16. Adriana Ravenlust (website)
17. Sexy Sadie (website)
18. Shay (website)
19. Lilly (website)
20. Nadia (website)   ***list continues after the jump***
21. Joan Price (website)
22. Madison (website)
23. Anal Amy (website)
24. Z (website)
25. Essin Em (website)
26. Easily Aroused (website)
27. Blacksilk (website)
28. Sleeping Dreamer (website)
29. Melen…
30. and rayne…
31. and Master KKT…
32. and cinnamon (website)
33. That Toy Chick (website)
34. Red (website)
35. Tom Allen (website)
36. Vix (website)
37. Coy Pink (website)
38. Lady Pandorah (website)
39. BackseatBoohoo (website)
40. Epiphora (website)
41. Aurore (website)
42. Miss KissThis (website)
43. Storm (website)
44. Ron Jazz (website)
45. Josie Jacobs (website)
46. Distracted (website)
47. Deviant Dyke (website)
48. Joanna Cake (website)
49. Sapphire Jay (website)
50. Sarah (website)
51. Kimberly (website)
52. Duchess (website)
53. Figleaf (website)
54. The Caged Songbird (website)
55. Kaya (website)
56. Ms. Justine (website)
57. Luka (website)
58. Ang (website)
59. Perverted Negress (website)
60. Harlot (website)
61. Vixen (website)
62. Anakan…
63. and Padme (website)
64. Wilhemina (website)
65. Axe (website)
66. Amber (website)
67. Lucy Vonne (website)
68. Rogue (website)
69. SSS (website)
70. Kyle (website)
71. Amorous Rocker (website)
72. Sera (website)
73. Lolita Wolf (website)
74. Elle (website)
75. Scarlet St Syr (website)
76. Charlotte Thorpe (website)
77. An Unassuming Girl (website)
78. Maymay (website)
79. True Pleasure (website)
80. Bad Influence Girl (website)
81. Diva (website)
82. Raven Quince (website)
83. Autumn (website)
84. Vanilla Impaired (website)
85. Wil (website)
86. Robin (website)
87. Panthera Pardus (website)
88. Ell (website)
89. Miss Communication…
90. and Captain Pants…
91. and A.E. (website)
92. Roxy (website)
93. Secretly Naughty (website)
94. Abby Williams (website)
95. Subheart (website)
96. Sequoia Redd (website)
97. Innocent Loveboy (website)
98. Liljgrrl…
99. and Nawa*G (website)
100. YOU! As always that last person on the list is you. Please, please, please leave a comment below promoting your own blog (or the blog of someone you love). Links are welcome, as long as they lead us to a sex-related blog, not a retail website or porn aggregation site.

After two weeks of too-hectic activity I resolved to undertake no project more taxing than climbing out of bed. A Friday spent thigh-deep in laundry and other sundry tedious tasks ensured my child-free weekend would also be mommy-chore-free. Is it worthwhile, I wondered, to work fingers down to nubs in order to get a little time truly off? As I packed little duffle-bags I eyed the thick novel I’d put aside for just such an occasion. Yes, I decided. Yes it it worth it.

I tried to be not too obvious about shooing them out the door at the appointed hour. Shortly thereafter I settled my happy self into bed with a taco and my book, only to fall asleep at the dangerously unseemly hour of 8:30 pm. I know! Can you believe it? What a wild life! But the benefit of falling out at 8:30 pm is that you wake up at 4:30 am completely refreshed and ready for more sloth. I spent the whole of Saturday and the better part of Sunday alternately reading and sleeping, staring out the window and dozing, snacking and relaxing. It was heavenly.

As Sunday morning moved into afternoon I found myself sprawled on the Zeppelin contemplating an Asian beetle’s progress across the window screen, as bonelessly relaxed as the cats who perched on my chest. How do other parents manage, I wondered, without the enforced breaks I’m lucky enough to get twice a month? Don’t they ever need time to turn off their brains and let their bodies go limp? Do their partners insist that they retreat periodically to somewhere peaceful in a way I could never manage while married?

Or do I bear some flaw that requires hours away from the children in order to be hidden away?

All too soon the hour for their return home arrived; the garage door went up and the children tumbled in hungry, tired and out-of-sorts because of the transition from one house (and parent) to the next. In the space of five minutes we got dinner on the table despite one child’s wailing and another’s damp pants. I cuddled on the couch with the upset child (who was not so put-out that he couldn’t bring his banana with him). My sloth was almost entirely forgotten.

And just like that we were back into normal life.

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This is a post from AlwaysArousedGirl. If you are reading it anywhere but in a feed reader or email, it has been scraped without my permission. Please email (aagblog *at* gmail) and let me know.
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Tarrou: It comes to this, what interests me is learning how to become a saint.

Rieux: But you don’t believe in God.

Tarrou: Exactly! Can one be a saint without God?

via lets tumble our way through an existential crisis (The Plague).

…I propose that unless and until gay marriage is a nationwide reality, we make Thanksgiving as uncomfortable as possible. It may be the only way we can personalize the pain of injustice for those who make the mistake of thinking gay marriage is someone else’s concern.

We’ve been singled out as “others”– outcasts of the mainstream. This is why we’ve been denied the right to marry, so while we’re being marginalized, let’s give ‘em what they want until they beg us to stop.

Some handy tips for the ladies:

• Don’t bother hiding your tattoos anymore, particularly the nice big, butchy ones on the biceps and deltoids. They carry a message of strength and defiance. They say “I’m an angry feminist!” Unless they happen to be in the image of the face of Stevie Nicks.
• If you’re a vegetarian, stop discretely filling your plate with the side dishes and choking back your disgust at the carnage going on right in front of you. That turkey smells like death, dammit! Pipe up and say so!

Read the rest of the post here: A Modest Gay Marriage Proposal « The Gaytheist Gospel Hour.