cunting linguist

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Fri, 18 Apr 2008 10:26:00 -0700

If you don't know, this blog doesn't get updated anymore. I'm still writing it, but under a new name: Smut & Steff. You can read most of the significant archives from this blog over there, plus the almost-two-years' worth of new content... Check out Smut & Steff, click here.

Female Circumcision

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Fri, 21 Sep 2007 09:22:00 -0700

I dunno what the fuck's going on with my hosting company over @ SmutandSteff.com. They've installed new servers and have been migrating shit over. Apparently this post posted just fine, but it's not showing up on my site, and I haven't heard sweet fuck all about how they intend to fix the hosting.

Meanwhile, I'll post this here until things improve.

____________________________

Work's a bitch, kids. Long days, long days. Tomorrow, however, a short one, then beers, then a concert, then apertifs, then getting to know the local transit. Then Stage Anew in my life officially kicks off with a three-day weekend. Colour me giddy.

But I wanted to pop by because I just found this article to be so good. I really dig The International Herald Tribune, and every now and then an article comes along and just pushes a button or two.

So I thought it was appropriate to share this story about girls who no longer have their buttons. Pardon the pun, but in all seriousness, the act of female circumcision is one of the most barbaric, ass-backward fucked-up "traditions" still going. This whole freedom-of-religion thing is great and all, but to go and cut out a woman's clitoris (which often can result in fatalities) for some dated, stupid, superstitious reason goes a little too fucking far.

Yeah, all right, so now I'm some pigheaded Westerner dogging Islam. Uh, no. I actually think Islam's pretty cool and that most Muslims I know are about the most decent you can imagine. It is one of the most giving faiths there is. Terrorists suck, but they ain't all Muslims. And the American religious right is just as full of shit as anyone.

Heh. Gotta love a tangent. And all I was gonna do was post a linkie.

When Ibrahim was 11 years old, she said, her parents told her she was going for a blood test. The doctor, a relative, put her to sleep and when she woke, she said she could not walk.

The memory haunts her now, and though she says that her parents "will kill" her if they find out, she has become a volunteer in the movement against genital cutting, hoping to spare other women what she endured.

I've had a lot of Muslim friends over the years so I really hate seeing stories like this that paint such a hardcore picture of their faith. Whatever, man. But here's what the IHT had to say about this barbaric tradition's links to Islam.

...the Ministry of Religious Affairs also issued a booklet explaining why the practice was not called for in Islam; Egypt's grand mufti, Ali Gomaa, declared it haram, or prohibited by Islam; Egypt's highest religious official, Muhammad Sayyid Tantawi, called it harmful; television advertisements have been shown on state channels to discourage it; and a national hot line was set up to answer the public's questions about genital cutting.

Yet still the tradition continues. It's a strange thing, but boy can men get intimidated by a teensy thing like the clit. But there's hope yet. Here's another bit:http://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif

...But now, quite suddenly, forces opposing genital cutting in Egypt are pressing back as never before. More than a century after the first efforts to curb this custom, the movement has broken through one of the main barriers to change: It is no longer considered taboo to discuss it in public. That shift seems to have coincided with a small but growing acceptance of talking about human sexuality on television and radio.

For the first time, opponents said, television news shows and newspapers have aggressively reported details of botched operations. This summer two young girls died, and it was front-page news in Al Masry al Yom, an independent and popular daily. Activists highlighted the deaths with public demonstrations, which generated even more coverage.

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Tue, 7 Aug 2007 21:11:00 -0700

DO NOT FEAR,
MY MINIONS!

All will be fine shortly. I fucked up and didn't pay the domain registration in time. I must get a daytimer.

The boo-boo le bad will be rectified in, like, 24 hours or something.

Go ahead, throw something at me. This screen thing's bound to protect me. ;)

Meanwhile, I have honey garlic chicken marinade that needs making. Coming soon over there at smutandsteff.com I'll post, um, oh, right! DRAG Queen pictures and just general gay-yness from the Pride parade.

...Ten minutes later.

Ah, fuck it. Took ten minutes out of my busy night. Here's some pics. The stupid story behind the fucking domain registration? I don't have a credit card thanks to my get medieval-on-my-spending plan from a couple years back, and the fuckwits with the domain registration don't take PayPal. They did LAST year. Motherfuckers. So, my friend tried logging in to pay for me and I had the password wrong. He tries four times, and BLAMMO, they lock the joint down on him. 24-hour suspension on the account. Tomorrow he tries with the CORRECT password.

Like the blind leadin' the blind, I swear, but we'll make it there, kids.

YES, these ARE my pictures. Took 'em my own damn self. :)

Go to My New Home, Peoples!

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Tue, 30 Jan 2007 14:19:00 -0800

Hi! Just checking in again!

You know I moved pads, right? I'm at shiny new digs over at SmutAndSteff.com! (After all, today's posting is about everyone's favourite bio-degradable toy, the penis!) I know, I know, you LIKED it here. My bad, really.

You see, I had to move. I was on the VERGE (the teetering brink as it were!) of fame and fortune when I got interviewed on a fancy-pants radio show last summer, and much to my chagrin, they couldn't say "Cunting Linguist" on air! But it's so cute and original, I wept. But the FCC will eat our asses, they said.

So, sooner or later I had to appease the man if I do indeed want people to be able to say where the hell I am on the internet, right?

But you know what? Same great taste! Now less filling! It's Steff... but still Steff! Who knew?

Add to all that is the fact that I've finally fixed shit at the new home. You can read my best-of in the archives and actually go to the place you were wanting to go to. Ack! WHO KNEW? Sadly, there's some other 300 posts here that aren't archived there, but there's only so many hours in a day, even if you're an underemployed cute little sprite like myself.

But if you're wanting the latest, funnest, greatest of Steff on a daily basis, then you're gonna need to go THERE. Yep! That's right! Making you work for your entertainment now. But you can do it. I know you can! Click that bu--

[CLICK]

Just Checking In. You Know I've Moved, Right?

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Fri, 5 Jan 2007 19:01:00 -0800

Hi! Long time no see, or is it?

I have a new home, and would love it if you visited me there. IF you're one of the scores of people who saw my new site when it wasn't working for half the browsers, you should know that it's been fixed!

Come on over, siddown, have a drink, peruse me. :)

Smut And Steff.

Why, a Damsel in Distress! Oh no!

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Mon, 11 Dec 2006 12:06:00 -0800

Previously unbeknownst to me, my new webpage is malfuncting. [Insert Mel Blanc]: "Why don't nobody tell me these things?!"

If you can help me conquer the HTML problems, I would be your number one fan for, like, ever! Please drop me an email (see sidebar) if you can help!

NO, THERE REALLY IS A NEW BLOG! Show Me the Pussy!

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Wed, 15 Nov 2006 00:19:00 -0800

Yes. Go read it over there. There's a new column. One of my favouritest in quite some time. It's a rant. I love a rant. Like an emotional enema. Keeps me regular.

Oh, I'm sorry. Breakfast? Apologies.

It's called Show Me The Pussy, and it's about William Shatner and a bunch of scantily clad women. You know you want it.

Of Vampires and Lovers: A Halloween Posting

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Mon, 30 Oct 2006 18:47:00 -0800

It's Halloween and I'm a little neck-obsessed just now, craving a middle-of-the-night visit from a Transylvanian count, but you'll hear none of it if you just sit here. It's over at Smut and Steff.

Getting Laid, Getting Tested, Getting AIDS

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Thu, 26 Oct 2006 23:55:00 -0700

There's a new posting over at Smut & Steff about new relationships, getting tested, and then some pretty mind-blowing stats on AIDS/HIV that every sexually active person needs to know.

Check it out.

And the time's a-comin' when this place ain't gonna get updated anymore. Adjusted your bookmarks yet? Your Feedburner/RSS service? Hmm? No? Whatcha waitin' for, Willis?

Didja Miss the Memo?

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Wed, 25 Oct 2006 20:00:00 -0700

There's a couple new postings over at Smut & Steff. Whatcha doing HERE and not THERE anyhow? Sillies.

The first, yesterday's, is potentially a downer, but something I think needs to get talked about more often. I wrote about my experiences walking in on my mother attempting suicide, and I spoke of how important it is to not keep some secrets.

The second is from tonight, where I've written about the importance of communication... again. I'll say it till I'm blue in the face, because, until the shame of talking about sex is gone, bad sex is gonna keep on happening. And that's bloody intolerable! Bad sex? NYET. Not on my watch!

Go, now. Shoo. Vamoose. Click here. C'mon. Ya know ya wanna. In case you TOTALLY missed the memo... this blog's now an archive. ALL NEW POSTINGS WILL BE AT SMUT AND STEFF. ADJUST YOUR BOOKMARKS and shit, eh? :) Thanks! (Seriously!)

They Like Me! They Really Like Me!

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Tue, 24 Oct 2006 08:43:00 -0700

I'm thrilled to announce that I've just gotten a glowing review from the incredible Jane's Guide. I feel like a proud mama! Woot!

They said:

This journal is sort of a combination of personal diary entries and how-to articles related to sex. Steff is a confident woman that approaches sexuality in a pragmatic and mature fashion, but doesn't let that lead to a lot of stuffy language. Some of the most worthwhile advice I've ever seen about being a good lover is here, "Being a good lover is: A) Knowing what you like, dislike, and love. B) Knowing how to express your needs. C) Being open-minded without compromising yourself, whatever that might mean for you. D) Not judging your lover’s desires, but being true to yourself so you’re not going to resent them after the fact." Great advice! She has many other articles with titles like "Kissing: Oh So Telling" and "Bondage for Beginners". I recommend this one wholeheartedly! - Vamp

This has been a great start to my day!!

Now, if you're coming here by way of Jane's and Vamp, please note that I'm just in transition and all my postings (except the "lesser" archives) are getting transferred to their new home at my new site -- www.smutandsteff.com. This site's going nowhere, though. Please add S&S to your bookmarks as that's where all my new postings will be showing up.

Also, I'll soon be launching a new podcast, too. So keep an eye out for that.

Tee hee... I'm a happy girl. I've been trying to get Jane's to review me for a while. Thanks, Vamp!

Sugasm #50

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Mon, 23 Oct 2006 13:44:00 -0700

Welcome to my headache. I'm transferring all my "best of" posts to the Smut site, so if you're being redirected, don't freak out. Advertisers care about hit counts, so, I'm being pragmatic and putting my archives where it counts: in the future, and not my past.

So, no worries, everything will be preserved. You can still delve into my dirty past. I think I have a lot of work ahead of me, but the mountain's getting climbed. Meanwhile, this is the most recent Sugasm for ya.

The best of the sex blogs this week by the bloggers who blog them.

This Week’s Picks
Dear Diary - Part One (http://wetbeyondbelief.blogspot.com)
The Lure of Darkness (http://www.easilyaroused.co.uk)
Flash (http://gentlygently.blogspot.com)

Mr. Sugasm Himself
50 Simultaneous Bloggasm’s… (http://sugarbank.com)

Editors’ Choice
Let go, just let go (http://sugarbutch.blogspot.com)

Sex News and Sexy Reviews
Anastasia Probes the Pornos of Michael Ninn (http://blog.johnqafterhours.com)
Doc Johnson Dick Rambone Cock (http://www.orgasmarmy.com)
Free whores of warcraft video (http://sultry.naughtyblog.net)
How to invent a sex toy - week 4 (http://sextoysinsider.com)
The Secret Porn History of Mahna Mahna (http://www.quirkysex.com/blog)

NSFW Pics
Cum Shot HNT (http://stilettodiaries.blogspot.com)
Crazy Bitch HNT!!! (http://texasspitfire.blogspot.com)
Half-Nekkid Hottie (http://www.tarasnaughtyshop.com)
HNT 31 - Are You Paying Me For Sex Edition? (http://everythingoze.blogspot.com)
Lingerie Battle (http://myhotbox.blogspot.com)
Nora Marlo Nude (http://eroticandy.blogspot.com)
Pornstar Legends (http://www.internetisforporn.com)
Thick booty with a wedgie (http://phatbootysolos.ilovejulienight.com)
Valia - Vision (http://hotboxbabe.thumblogger.com)

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
50 Ways To Leave Your Lover (http://saphirsatya.blogspot.com)
The “backdoor”, I went in. (http://wanklog.blogspot.com)
Big Dicks (http://www.model-chat.com)
Celebrity Sex Tapes (http://www.teen-porn-site.com)
Cock size & male ego size… a balancing act? (http://faltenin.blogspot.com)
Cocktoberfest - Day 9 (http://shayssexcolumn.blogspot.com)
From Working The Fields To Working The Streets (http://virtual-sex-tourist.com/index.php)
The Girl Inside the Steff (http://smutandsteff.com)
Longing for a Woman’s Touch Part II (http://www.taratainton.com)
The next best thing to hotel sex… (http://hard-and-fast.blogspot.com)
Of fluffers and cake frosting (http://www.jessicagoldharalson.com)
Perfect Porn Part (http://alwaysarousedgirl.blogspot.com
Sexual Thoughts–I’m “Coping!” (http://totalsensuality.blogspot.com)
Somebody not too bright but sweet and kind… (http://lumpesse.com)
Wrap Around (http://www.seskuality.com)
You Say Pain, They Say Play (http://cuntinglinguist.blogspot.com)

BDSM and Fetish
Are you sure? (http://www.blog.sex-mad-witch.com)
Boris called me this morning (http://thediaryofanenglishrose.blogspot.com)
Darth Vader spanking (http://darkside-journey.blogspot.com)
How does that ass feel after Me raping you??? (http://www.caramelvixen.com)
I Need A Spanking! (http://accidentalmistress.blogspot.com)
The Importance of Correct Attire (http://adelehaze.com)
Knots (http://ourdreaming.blogspot.com)
Mecca-Streisand of Traffic (http://spankingkatiespades.blogspot.com)
My Tiny Dick Poll Question (http://www.spoiledebonyprincess.com)
Next day (http://bratmaster.blogspot.com)
Nothing Says Innocence Like…… (http://aliceinawonderbra.blogspot.com)

Sex Work
L.A. Trip Part 2- Mismatched Whores (http://radicalvixen.com/blog)
Stimulating me…..the right way (http://www.justcalllauren.com)
A Whore By Any Other Name … (http://lipstickexplosion.com)

Erotic Writing and Experiences
Actually wanking outside (http://orgasmcurious.blogspot.com)
Almost in real time… (http://dontwakethekids.blogspot.com)
Beachside encounter (http://skyoto.blogspot.com/)
The Beauty of the Beast (http://principles-of-lust.blogspot.com)
Birthday Gift (http://confessions112.blogspot.com)
Claiming A Friend’s Pussy (http://dirtydetails.blogspot.com)
Cowboy Cocksucker (http://theholidaylife.blogspot.com)
Desperate (http://pick-up-pieces.blogspot.com)
Goose Bumps (http://masterenigma.blogspot.com)
Home cooking, part 1 (http://erotischism.blogspot.com)
Island Love (http://mandyseroticlife.blogspot.com)
Joint: The Cyber Seck Convo (http://totalgeeklust.blogspot.com)
Mr Henry is a voyeur (http://junohenry.wordpress.com)
My First Taste (http://talktovanessa.com)
Nature Hike (http://wantonyou.blogspot.com)
Sugar Stick (http://makemycopcome.blogspot.com)
There’s Something About Tristan (and Dana) (http://lustylady.blogspot.com)
Who I Wished It Was (http://nyc-urban-gypsy.blogspot.com)

The Ugly Side of E-Dating

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Mon, 23 Oct 2006 08:43:00 -0700

There's a new posting on Smut and Steff. Go find out about some of the dickheads responding to my Craigslist ad. If only I wasn't so nice and had the lack of scruples that would allow me to expose them. But, sadly, ethics get in the way of that.

WHY must I be born Catholic? WHY must guilt be as prominent a part of me as my social insurance number? Yeesh.

Go this way, Frodo.

The Craigslist Experiment... Steff Style

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Sat, 21 Oct 2006 15:54:00 -0700

So, it's official. My hat is back in the ring. I posted a personal ad today. You can read all about it on Smut and Steff.

Just a Few of My Firsts: Part the Second.

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Sat, 21 Oct 2006 08:36:00 -0700

Hey, boys and girl. I'm a bad blogger and didn't put a pointer up here for the second part of my firsts, which was posted at Smut & Steff yesterday. Here's the link for ya. It's getting dirty.

Part three will be up early next week. I'll break up the mix a little with some other kind of posting likely tomorrow. Hope everyone's having a good weekend. I'm off to see the Gomez concert tonight, so a little steam will be blown and fun will be had.

Just a Few of My Firsts: Part 1

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Wed, 18 Oct 2006 19:55:00 -0700

If you've missed the bulletin, I have a new blog which is due to be replacing this one. Please update your links accordingly -- it's much appreciated. It's found at www.smutandsteff.com. Most of the content from here will gradually be moved over to there. It'll take a while, though. (If anyone's written a program to simplify the chore, let me know... there's about 400 posts!)

For the time being, I'm shadow posting here. I'll tell you what I've written, and send you over there. One day, that'll stop. So, update your links and bookmarks, and know that I love you so for it. Thanks!

The latest posting over there is part one in a series I'm calling Just a Few of My Firsts. In it, I'll share some details about first kisses, first fucks, first flings, and more. We're starting off slow and letting things heat up. Check it out.

Announcement!

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Tue, 17 Oct 2006 20:19:00 -0700

You can now subscribe to the new Smut & Steff RSS feed. Go there to do so.

(Hi, how's it goin?)

"Taking a Look Behind the Packaging"

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Tue, 17 Oct 2006 07:53:00 -0700

Hey, folks. I've posted a new thingie-thing over at Smut and Steff.

It's a look at Dove's popular Campaign for Real Beauty. I'm not "just another fan" of the campaign and have been on the fence about publicizing it for a while. But, finally, I have. Take a lookie look.

I'm inspi(red) to act

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Fri, 13 Oct 2006 20:40:00 -0700

I am a stark-raving liberal. I care about my fellow Earth citizens. I think "luck" plays too great a role in the human condition. Why am I not some rural African dead or dying from AIDS? Why I am not subject to the ludicrous conditions and threat of rape in modern day South Africa? How did I luck out, born middle class, white, and reasonably happy in free North America?

Couldn't tell ya. Is what it is. I'm grateful daily for who I am and where I am.

But, also, I am apalled by the western world's lack of involvement in the African condition. After all, if it's just luck, then why is theirs so goddamned bad?

It was about 120 years ago that the first-ever human rights campaign began. The birth of photography made it possible to document horrors happening, and it was first used to document the horrors of the rubber massacre at the end of the 19th century. The Congo was being obliterated by King Leopold and his Belgian bastards because of the discovery of rubber trees there (the birth of the auto made rubber, for tires, a highly prized natural resource until a synthetic form was invented much later). It was an attrocity that became the basis of Conrad's Heart of Darkness, upon which the movie Apocalypse Now was based. Head-hunting was a sport, one could claim. Nearly 10 million Africans were murdered in what became the first modern genocide... greater than the Holocaust.

In that 120 years, incredible tragedy has consistently clouded the continent. From genocide after genocide to drought and starvation and racial cleansing and horrific rape statistics, the continent serves as a reminder of just how much can go wrong when political instability is inflicted on a region. Throw into that mix a little climate intensity and general social unrest and you have the hottest hotbed in the world.

**

Y'know, Africa's a part of the world I'd like to get lost and never found in. Something about that part of the world makes me wanna weep inside, the good way and the bad way. The cradle of civilization, indeed. If the earth is an animal, Africa is its pulsating heart. I wanna go, and bad.

But I really want to see it start to heal some. Believing in manifest destiny, white Europeans landed on Africa and decimated it for its bountiful and enviable natural resources. They brought firepower when Africans had only fire. The place has never recovered. Can't we at least atone a little for the sins of our fathers? Just a bit?

So, I'm going to make a point of it in the next week to go to the Gap and buy a (Red) t-shirt. Bono of U2 fame and pal Bobby Shriver have come up with the idea. A (Red) brand shirt* will mean half the money goes to buy drugs for AIDS victims in Africa. Oprah bought shirts for her audience of 300, and that profit alone was enough to pay for the drugs to inhibit transmission of AIDS from a mother to her unborn child for 14,000 women.

More than providing cold hard cash for a problem that is more economic than it is anything else, though, is that it proves people care. It proves that western people WANT their governments to contribute to the global human condition in a positive, lasting way. It proves that we think they deserve to live, too.

I mean, you agree, don't you? Then why doesn't your government react? Buy a shirt.* Become a number. Become evidence. Become a powerful political platform. Become part of a movement that's proving it feels good to give a shit. It really, really feels good.

Like that $20 was gonna go to something better, anyhow. Do it. Get (Red).

*Or shoes. Or blue jeans. Or an iPOD Nano @ Apple. Or a cell phone @ Motorola. (Red) is an entire line of products. All fall under the (approximately) 50%-to-AIDS-prevention/treatment guidelines for African charity proceeds.)

The Girl Inside the Steff

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Thu, 12 Oct 2006 08:53:00 -0700

There's a new posting, but it's at the new blog. Today I've written about trying to reconfigure my image, trying to do things a little more feminine, and the mental trip it's taking me on.

Here's an excerpt.

Doesn’t it make sense, though? You want to feel and look the way you think “hot” is defined, don’t you? I’m never, ever gonna be hot in the Britney Spears sort of way, and never do I want to be. I’m more turned on by the girl next door from your childhood who can really kick your ass now. You know the type. You're secretly really wishing to lose a wrestling match with her? Yeah. That’s my style. I’m working towards that.

And if you want to read the whole posting, then click here!

The birth of the New Blog

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Wed, 11 Oct 2006 08:28:00 -0700

Well, I'm launching the new blog today. It's not done. It's not ready. It's ready enough. "New" as in "about to replace this blog forever" type of "new".

I need to make the stupid unfinished thing public or I won't actually do what needs to get done. I'm too lazy. I love to procrastinate. I see fun things to do them, and the crazy part of me inside says, "Yes, I'd rather have fun than do boring shit like transferring over 200 old postings, Steff!" Go figger.

So, having it up and open for biz will help me get my shit together. This is the first posting. Slowly, I will move all the important archives here to there, and will cease updating this blog. One day, this blog will be nothing more than a solitary satellite adrift in the gaping space that is the cyber universe. For now, both will be updated.

Don't worry, baby, I know you don't like change. We'll do this real gentle-like. Trust me.

I'm an Enthusiast!

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Wed, 11 Oct 2006 08:02:00 -0700

Surprisingly, I don’t get as many negative comments as I would have expected, considering the volume of comments I get through here. Now and then, though, someone does leave something dick-ish, or just plain stupid.

The other day was one such day. Someone left a bit of a rude comment accusing me of wanting to be the Dr. Ruth of the BDSM crowd and how my advice was not expert advice, ergo a grain of salt should be consumed by anyone taking my advice.

Well, duh. Thanks, genius.

I have indeed said it before and I will say it again: I am NOT an expert. NOTHING I say should be taken as “real” advice. Any tips I give are from MY EXPERIENCE only.

I am not an expert. I am, however, an enthusiast.

And I’ll tell you something else: I have no wishes of being the Dr. Ruth for the BDSM crowd. I am utterly removed from the BDSM crowd. I’ve never really done any serious toying there, but the older I get the more curious I’m finding myself. Still, I know nothing, not really. My “intro to bondage” is actually the piece that raised this dude’s rancor, so let’s tackle that for a second.

My “intro to bondage” is perfect for people who are entering that area completely ignorant of what to do. Dude took issue with my saying how *I* will go and run off to the kitchen to get a few things with my submissive fellow all tied up. Dude said no one should ever be abandoned when bound. Strictly speaking, dude was right, and the content of that comment was pretty spot-on, but the delivery left a lot to be desired. And that's why comments are enabled -- so others can weigh in.

So, yes, I’m a bad little bondage girl and I abandon my bound subs. However, my kitchen is literally 15 feet from my bedroom, and any man lucky enough to find himself tied up in my world winds up under my constant supervision, even if I’m 15 feet away. And everyone should take heed to ensuring their submissives are being watched good and close.

If you want an intro to all things BDSM, this is probably not the spot to get it. I’m thinking about tackling more topics in that realm, but not just yet. Like I say, I’m not really big on that whole world.

But let’s get back to the “enthusiast” bit. I’m not an expert. I’ve never taken any courses in psychology or human sexuality. I’ve never gone sleeping my way around town for better working knowledge. I’ve not read every sex book ever written. I have no real credibility for writing about any of this shit.

It’s a blog. Get a fucking grip, right? And that goes for anyone who takes me too seriously. This is a blog. I take great pride in it, but it’s not a job. Not yet. I don’t have the time to edit every posting perfect and make sure things I post have no flaws. That’s just reality. Sometimes, I come up a little short. C'est la vie.

Whatever I say, I say it only as a natural response. I’m smart, I’m well-read, I’m open-minded, I’m thoughtful, and I have a pretty good cause-and-effect meter. Therefore, I write about things from my POV. If you missed the “You are entering the world of Steff’s rant and whimsy” sign upon entry, then take another look.

I suppose the next step is that I’m going to post a legal disclaimer on my new bloggie. You know, just in case anyone’s silly enough to think my advice should trump a medical professional’s. Sheesh.

And to the 90% of you who seem cool enough to know it’s just a blog, thanks!

I Need A Hug

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Tue, 10 Oct 2006 07:19:00 -0700

It was a Canadian long weekend -- I think the States had one too -- and turkey was had by all. Happy belated Thanksgiving, my fellow Canucks.

The holidays tend to depress me. I've got one parent dead and six feet other, and every holiday reminds me how, sooner or later, that number's changing to two. It's looking sooner than later by the looks of my dad, so I'm feeling a little sad and scared, really. I feel like his counter's officially counting down now as his diabetes looks like it's winning the battle they've been fighting. Suffice to say, I'm in the right mood to have found this website.

I don't really have a lot to write about today, though, as it's been a busy weekend.

I've thinking a lot of my dad and taking the chance that he doesn't read this blog at all, by posting here, but if he was to read it, that'd be fine too. I love my dad, even though we're cut from very different cloths. I'm much more into culture and I'm more worldly than he his. He's more of a bingo player than anything, really. But I still love him, even though we've got nothing in common.

I tell him I love him and have tried to make him see that I'd like to ensure he's around down the road for me. If I do marry, I'd like him to see it happen. If I do become the success I'd like to be, I'd like to have a shoulder squeeze and giddy smile from my pop.

But he eats horribly. He will eat any and all things, and he'll even have wine, though he's been told his heart can't handle it. He's diabetic, and he has weeping ulcers on his leg, and worse. And, me, I remember I'm not that far off from being a little girl after all. I saw him yesterday, and I would be surprised if I was very wrong about how long he might be around. I'm scared, I'm sad, I'm feeling a little alone.

Worse is, I remember the day I looked at my mom and knew she wouldn't be around for another year -- long before a doctor's diagnosis ever confirmed anything.

I've gone through some phases with some anger in the last week, moments when I feel terribly guilty, as if my mother's death was my fault as a result of my inaction after my suspicions began. My father, though, has long known of my concern and chooses to ignore it. I now avoid him a bit, but mostly because it breaks my heart every time I go over and see how much he's not doing to improve his health. I can't sit idly by as someone so obviously decides not to choose life in front of me, you know?

All things considered, I'd rather have a hug. What can I say? Holidays suck when it means you're constantly realizing that parents won't be around much longer. Yeesh. It's hard to watch someone slowly lose a battle to a disease. The five-minute cancer death of my mother's was easier, in some respects. Sigh. Well, one major holiday down, one to go.

Only The Lonely

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Thu, 5 Oct 2006 10:16:00 -0700

(I wasn't meaning to write two posts today, so, hey. Lucky you. Seeya on the weekend.)

The greatest gift the internet provides us with is universality. Through it, we have become Hillary Clinton's Global Village. Through a series of microchips and fibre-optic wires, a person in Nantucket can wake up and realize they're having the exact same kinda day as their favourite blogger in Guayana. Suddenly the human condition isn't caught in only brief snippets in plays and movies. Now, it's all over the world wide web.

It's with great irony that blogging has become such a public way of revealing the private self. Anonymity allows for nearly anyone to open up the wellsprings and let it flow for the world at large to be a part of. The anonymouses of the world, aware of just how little voice they have in day to day life, are speaking pretty loud and clear these days.

Every now and then, someone comes along who's able to tap into the darker currents that course through their innerselves. Every now and then, someone captures that elusive truth of what makes the human condition such a mesh of experiences -- the highs, the lows, the sub-terranean depths of it all. And it's all free. With an ISP, you can log into the wired world and tap into someone feeling, experiencing, being everything you relate to. And that's a good thing.

It's an even better thing when we realize just how much some people need to find that commonality. I've been through some pretty dark times, and that does not make me exceptional. It makes me pretty plugged into that universality I mentioned earlier, the proverbial Matrix. Of course our pains and loves and triumphs and losses are things we understand only up until a certain point. It's so mysterious. Such a muddled mess to wade through. When others can express what we feel, well, suddenly it's like we've had a light shine onto us. Wow, that's my sentiment exactly. And there you are, in your own skin, feeling just like I do. Why, we're not so very different after all. Thank God, it's true: I'm not alone.

Loneliness is quite possibly one of the worst feelings I've ever endured. Hopelessness is hard, too. So's plain old fear. I've been there, done that, didn't want the ugly ass t-shirt.

I got to spend just under three years with my mother before she died. I'd left town, moved to the Yukon, fell in love with Northern Lights and wide-open spaces and that silence that bludgeons you dumb (as Robert Service once said), but the expense of living in the great white north just about crippled me. Too dumb to live within my means, I came home to Vancouver at 22, my tail between my legs, and some $35,000 in debt, sans job. I moved back home and stayed there, at first because I had no choice, and then because I realized something was wrong with my mother (though it would be some time before the cancer was diagnosed; take it from me -- if you suspect something's seriously wrong with a loved one, do not follow the complacent course I took -- get them to a doctor. Get involved. I wish I had).

But when I arrived home, late one night my mother had had a couple glasses of wine and said to me, "Don't ever leave me like that again. I couldn't bear the quiet." And I never left her again. I would have, but she beat me to the punch.

Being alone is hard. There is nothing I feel more empathy and understanding towards than people who fear aloneness. And while it would seem to be an easy fix -- it's a big world, getting bigger every day, billions of others walk this terrain, just like you, and all you seemingly need to do is step outside your four walls -- nothing seems harder when you're on the other side of it.

The walls seem thicker, others seem happier, things just keep happening, and all the while, you're experiencing none of it. An outsider peering in. It's like some puppetmaster is holding strings and keeping you back from it all.

Unfortunately, that's often your choice.

I write from time to time about all the injuries I experienced over the last few years. In one year, I was on crutches for more than 20 weeks. I've never felt as alone as I did then. There were a lot of long, quiet nights, and I felt pretty abandoned by the world at large. It was during all that that I first turned to blogging. A lot's gone down since then, and while I'm often playing the solitary game, it's pretty much by choice these days. I'm single now, but I've had a couple recent chances to change that status and have passed on 'em. Partly because I wasn't ready, and partly because I really don't mind being a party of one. It works well with the writing gig.

But being injured did force me to learn that others were there when I wanted them, and, more importantly, when I needed them. All I had to do was speak. Out of all the lessons I've learned in my life, learning to ask for help has been the one I'm most proud of. Learning how to admit that I need someone or something has been one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I'm a proud, proud woman, and I have been reduced to fucking dust at times in the last few years. I've realized something, though, that it's in that dust that something new in me began to grow. I realized that reaching out, asking for help, allowed others to give. It allowed them to be there when I needed it, and allowed them to feel like they were really contributing to me and my life. It profoundly changed my closest relationships, and the friends who stood by me then, I know they'll always be there.

So many of us never really let our friends and family be there for us. We let our pride fuck with us and we tell ourselves our loved ones are too busy. We fail to realize that most people hang around the peripheral, waiting on us to speak up and tell them what we need -- because they know we'd be there for them if the tables were turned.

So, if you're among the lonely and you feel you've been abandoned, well. You might just be surprised. It's more that people are busy, they get involved in their lives, but somewhere in the back of their minds, they're waiting for you to speak up, to tell them they're wanted around, or that you just plain need'em. What are you waiting for?

Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy [Insert bleeding here]

steff.thesexpert@gmail.com (A Scribe Called Steff) — Thu, 5 Oct 2006 08:26:00 -0700

Every now and then, I get reminded of how dumb corporate America really is. This is the tab on the Always Slim Maxi with Wings. You pull this off, and you adhere it to your panties. I've mentioned this before, but now I've photographed it for proof. Dumbasses.

Have a Happy period? And what part of it is supposed to be the happiest -- the cramping, the irritability that has successfully been used as a defense in murder, the occasional staining of sheets and underwear, the fact that it costs $10 a month in products, the inability to play/do certain sports, like swimming? Which part is supposed to make me happy, huh?

Here's a memo, Corporate America: I bleed because I have to. I bleed only because biology deems it necessary. I've tried to suppress the bastard through drugs, but when I became a murderous, depressed bitch, I decided that bleeding was an only slightly better option, because then my murderous depression would at least be on the clock.

And you fucking know this slogan was written by some mama's boy who's always the first to show up on holidays and who tries to constantly please every woman in his life.

Happy ain't part of the gig, man. I'd be more loyal to a product that called it like it is. How's this:

Your period sucks, and we know it. That's why we've made the best product we can. Here's hoping it makes things just a little better for you today. Oh. And don't kill anyone. Here's 50 cents off your next bottle of Midol.