Mar 30, 2011

Lady Estrogen's World

This post is like spotting a unicorn; it's rare, exciting and you're not quite sure whether or not it's real or an hallucination! Oh, it's real, people! Please sit back and enjoy reading a little more about me - the woman behind all this madness, according to my 'ever suffering' husband:

The other night, my wife asked me to write a blog about her. I was a bit skeptical at first as I am not allowed to read her blog or even talk about it. She tells me stories about her blog and I just nod my head and smile. So to write something about her was not something I had even considered. I could probably write a Master Thesis about her and that still wouldn’t be enough to convey the multiple personalities and habits (both good and bad) that LE embodies. Therefore, I am going to present SIX traits (just to mess with her OCD of preferring things in fours*) where we have differing opinions on:

1. Lady Estrogen has good ideas – her brain is going non-stop.
She has about 200 projects on the go right now. When are these projects going to be finished? Who knows, I’m pretty sure that LE doesn’t even know. I saw a good quote the other day on a billboard outside a church/community centre that was totally directed at LE – “Life should be like a postage stamp, stick to one thing until it has reached its destination.” Unfortunately, it would probably lead to another half-started project if she saw it.

2. She is addicted to shopping. 
There isn’t a day that goes by with her nose in a catalogue or surfing online. Infomercials were created with her specifically in mind. I am very thankful that she doesn’t watch The Shopping Channel. She has an uncanny ability to burn through money in my pockets.

3. She is absolutely useless with directions.
She can live in the same town/city for years and still not know the street names she drives on or how to get anywhere. She needs a GPS unit just to go to the grocery store (you would think going the first time would be enough to remember how to get there).** Apparently she travelled all around Australia for an entire year before we met and didn’t get lost. To this day, I still can’t figure that one out.

4. She likes to talk – a lot.
I am pretty certain that Lady Estrogen really likes the sound of her own voice. So much in fact, she will hold entire conversations with me even though I am not in the same room. She even has the nerve to get mad at me when I don’t reply. Sorry Honey, but I am not Superman, I can’t hear you through walls! Even if I did reply, she probably wouldn’t listen. This leads onto the next point…

5. She is not a good listener.
She says she listens to me, but truth be told, she doesn’t. She has very selective hearing when it comes to anything I have to say. Even when she asks for my opinion, she won’t listen (I have actual proof of this).

6. She thinks she is smart.
Quoting an obscure movie line by line doesn't make you smart! Reciting Pi to the 100th digit is smart. Brain surgery is smart. Forecasting future traffic volumes and how they will impact the road network is smart*** – Reciting Ferris Bueller’s Day Off every time it's on TV is just plain annoying.

I am living with Lady Estrogen in Lady Estrogen’s world. This world is not the world that the rest of us live in. It is a world where she is King, Queen, President, and Prime Minister. If you are not apart of it, then hold on tight – it’s a very bumpy ride. Surprisingly, it's one ride that I am very happy (and lucky) to be on.

* Jokes on you, hun - 6 is fine. If it was 5 or 7, that would have pissed me off.
** Just because I don't care to know the name of the street doesn't mean I don't know where the grocery store is, sheesh!
*** Forecasting future traffic volumes? That's what HE does - so he's basically saying that HE is smart and I am not. For the record, we had our I.Q.'s tested years ago and he's never gotten over the fact that I scored higher... on two separate tests.

Love you, babe! Thank you!

Mar 29, 2011

Tuesday Tunes & Other Stuff

There are THREE honorable mentions in the past few days that I simply MUST HAVE to add to my post for today.

1. Firstly, I am guest posting over at 2 Much Testosterone today. Hooray! Apparently, I was an Easy Slut in high school, according to my husband, check it out. Good times.

2. Finding One's Way did an incredible and (honestly) unexpected tribute to Adventures in Estrogen. It was very touching; thank you again! If you didn't catch it, here's the link.

3. Boobie, Babies, & A Blog was the WINNER of my very first contest (second one coming up on Friday, hint, hint) She finally got my t-shirt and sported her smokin' tits in a photo & post. If you missed that one, here's that link.

Thank you for listening, and now back to our regularly scheduled program...

Did you ever fall in love with a friend but never had the balls to confess your love for them? Perhaps you did, but it wasn't nearly as eloquent at this.

Or maybe you just love Ben Affleck.

You can listen to his voice in this remix and get your rocks off. For a very long time, I couldn't listen to this without welling up - it's amazing! That is why it's Hollywood, baby - because men don't talk like this in real life, at least not any that I've ever met.

"Even if we never talk again after tonight, please know that I am forever changed because of who you are and what you've meant to me." ...I Shiver.

*Remix & dialogue is from Kevin Smith's Chasing Amy

Mar 27, 2011

The Whittaker Effect

So, my first experience with the lovely 69 position was a bit of an ‘awkward situation’ and although there had been brief acrobatic occurrences of it throughout the next couple years, there was one more, umm, notable night that I feel is worthy to be regurgitated into the written word. It might possibly shed some more light on to why I have such personal animosity towards it as well.

I was well into the swing of the online dating scene; I had been out with at least half a dozen guys by this point. I had noticed that a common symptom of these ‘online suitors’ were that many were incredible on web chat, but not so great in person, and Mr. Whittaker definitely fell into that category. We had a fabulous back-and-forth online banter going on with jokes and sexual innuendoes and I managed to waste many paid work hours on MSN chat with him. After about a week, we agreed that we simply had to meet – and so we did...

BLAH! Conversation was flat and boring. I had really got my hopes up with this guy. He was tall, good-looking and artistic… and like Lurch in person. Yawn. I powered through the evening as quickly as possible and pleasantly said goodbye. I was afraid to logon to MSN the next morning as I wanted to avoid him, but not be a total bitch and block him – not just yet anyway.

Nothing. Phew!

Then a few weeks went by, which then turned into a couple months. He was almost a distant memory in online dating terms by then, but then suddenly, he sent me a wink. Weird, but OK; I wanted to see where this was going to go. He wrote that he wanted to see me again, and finished with a double “wink – wink” so I hesitantly agreed. I had pretty much gathered that this was going to be more of a booty call than anything else, which was perfectly fine with me...

I was never one to turn down a booty call!

I had made the necessary preparations and grooming for the big night – and I must say that I was particularly proud of my lady bits that evening, as I had ZERO blemishes in that surrounding area at the time. I had my trusty hand-held mirror to which its sole reason for purchase was so I could check under the hood more effectively. I was lookin’ fine under there and I couldn’t wait to put her to work.

Shortly after he arrived, we had made our way to my room. The small talk and pleasantries were abbreviated, to put it gently. It wasn’t animalistic lust or anything like that, but we definitely got down to business straight away. He had made a gesture that he was going to go down on me, but being as proud as I was of my sparkling vagina, I pushed him to lay down on the bed and I straddled his face. He seemed into it and I was enjoying myself. After a couple minutes, I turned around to assume the top spot of the 69 position. I had since learned that being on the bottom meant trying to enjoy giving an upside-down and backwards blow job – which is annoying as hell.

We were in full swing of the yin-yang and I must admit that it since I was more confident about myself this time around, I was enjoying myself… and then he stopped… abruptly.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t do this.”
“Do what? 69? We can do something else, if you don’t like that!”
“No. Sorry.”

And he grabbed his clothes like the house was on fire and he left. I didn’t even have time to see him to the door.

What the fuck just happened?

I was in a state of bewilderment and still sitting on my bed, naked. I double checked under the hood while I was sitting there – nope – still good! O well… I was already half way there, so I never even got up to chase after him; I just got out Mr. Purple and finished myself off.

Needless to say, I never heard from that guy again either.

Mar 25, 2011

Sew what?

OK. So I've been wanting to learn how to sew for a long time now. Bah, add it to my fucking list, seriously. I want to do a lot of things; just ask my husband. He's sick of hearing it. But sewing? I really wished I had learned when I was younger. My mother is a rocking seamstress. Technically, she's not a professional, but she's done wedding dresses and an entire bridal party, so I think she deserves that title.

...anyhow, have a Winfield.* I'm wavering off course.

So, I made the mistake of telling my grandmother a while back that I wanted to start sewing and she said, "Oh, I have a little portable sewing machine you can have. I will find it for you; it's even in its original box!"

Well, she found it last week. Here's the box:

It's a REAL sewing machine, people! I don't think I will be using the machine, but I might want to frame this photo. Fucking priceless. It also must be solid iron; it's only 10x12inches but it weighs about 15lbs! Still, when I laughed my grandmother was insulted, "What's wrong with it? It's perfectly fine."

Well, call me a fandangled futuristic spoiled bitch, but I'll be getting one that uses REAL electricity to power it, not a hamster wheel. Thanks, though! It's f-antiquingly awesome... just not for sewing.

* ...anyhow, have a Winfield was a tagline for Winfield cigarettes in Australia that is now banned. It was positioned opposite the government health warning so they read like this: Smoking Kills ...anyhow, have a Winfield. Only in Australia. I collected all of them; I posted the photo on Wednesday, which is why it's still in my vocabulary today. I'm all about coming full circle, especially when it's warped!

Mar 23, 2011

...anyhow have a Winfield

{Almost} Wordless Wednesday.
This is the cover of my school diary from when I was 17.

Shane is referring to Shane Warne, an Aussie Cricketer that I'm (still) in love with.
Also notice: Pearl Jam cartoon. Rice Bubbles is freaky-deeky Aussie for Rice Krispies; and the magazine cut-out "Are you a sure thing?" Umm, yes!

Obviously, I'm paying attention in class.

I taped a condom wrapper? I can't even think who I emptied that with. Tisk, tisk.
Rock on Stone Temple Pilots!

And finally...
August 29, 1994 - the day I lost my virginity... and apparently went to see Salt 'n' Pepa & a Melbourne Magic basketball game the same week - BEST WEEK EVER!
Don't ask about the band-aid; I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to.


Mar 22, 2011

A Quick Encounter of the Teenage Kind

I thought I'd mix things up today and write one of my sexual misadventures as if I were a 16 year old... in today's world. Enjoy!
OMG! You will never guess what happened to me last night! Greg and I were getting hammered in his parent's basement and he was like, "I've had a thing for you for ages!"
I was was like, "Really? That's totally LOL cuz I think you're well fit."
And he was like, "Well, you're single right?"
And I was like, "Yeah."
And he was like, "So am I."
And I was like, "I know!"
And he was like, "Wanna hook up?"
And I was like, "OK."
And then he came closer to me on the couch and started kissing my neck. I straddled on top of him and he totally started to feel me up and he was like, "Whoa!"
And I was like, "Thanks."
And then he was like, "I want you so bad!"
And then I was like, "Uh huh."
We undressed each other and it was getting totally hot. We rolled on to the floor and I was like, "You got one?"
And he was like, "Yeah."
And I was like, "Cool."
And he put it on and we started goin' at it.
He was like, "Uhhhh!"
And I was like, "Ohhhhh!"
And then he was like, "Aggghhhh."
And then he stopped...
and I was like, "WTF?"

Mar 21, 2011

I'm Not Perfect

It's about that time when I have to promote another one of my rockin' Canadian bands, Hedley. The lead singer/pianist Jacob Hoggard got his big break by being in Canadian Idol, but I try not to hold that against him. If he had won, it would have been game over. Luckily, he placed 3rd - high enough to get noticed but not high enough to become a douche! Anyhow, I think their lyrics, vocals and instrumental abilities are fantastic.
"I'm not perfect
But I keep trying
Cause that's what I said
I would do from the start
I'm not alive if I'm lonely
So please don't leave
Was it something I said
Or just my personality"


Mar 19, 2011

The Lion, the Bitch and the Whore Code

The second substantial “non-sexual” crush I had on another girl was in University. (The first being this girl.) When I met her, she was so cool that it intimidated me a little. She was very out-spoken, didn’t take shit from anyone and (until me, of course) everyone knew where they stood with her. She had a lot more balls than I did. Appearance-wise, she was also so funky in my books; slightly bohemian but still stylish and artsy – how I wished I could dress if I could have ever found those clothes in my size. She had dreaded her hair, but it was only just below her shoulders, so they kind of puffed out a little like a lion’s mane. Her face was narrow and pretty, so it didn’t deter from her appeal; she was a sexy lion.

When she asked me to live with her in my 3rd year, needless to say, I was so excited. It was like I was going to be living with the embodiment of my alter-ego.

The first few months were fantastic. Myself, her, and 2 others lived in a townhouse. One was a wild card and a little distant, but the 3 of us were like a Whore-tastic Sorority and we were having the best time. We ate, partied and at tougher times, counselled each other. It was the first time I was living with other women and it was actually going well…

Ah crap… I spoke too soon.

I don’t know what happened, or why this girl who supposedly never bottled up anything, decided to HATE me. I couldn’t figure out what I had done. Did I say something bitchy? Not usually. Maybe she mistook something I said about her art; she wasn’t great at accepting criticism, even constructive. Someone offered the suggestion that she was pissed off that I was moving to Australia, but her behaviour was a bit extreme for that to be the reason. Still to this day, I have no idea why she went psycho on me. I tried to ask the 3rd girl in our once-blissful-trio but she didn’t want to get involved. That bitch was like fucking Switzerland throughout the entire war, and frankly, that hurt too. The Lion was clearly being publicly cruel to me and the Bitch never once stood up for me.

Finally, it was time to move out, thank Christ! I was having a going away pub night and that is when she decided to drive one last knife into my back before I left; she was going to throw a party on the same night, and her parties were legendary. Are we in fucking kindergarten? Seriously! Thankfully, the 4th roommate refused to agree to the plot, and since it was a campus residence, all tenants had to sign off on proposed parties. He had called me and told me; it was gross and as he told me, my stomach ached with anger and heart-break.

Even then, I never had enough kahones to confront her – in person anyway – but I finally told her off in an email. I know she got it because she wanted Switzerland to read it, but in true neutrality, she declined. I always thought that there was some kind of unwritten code amongst kindred spirits about sticking together and being there for each other. In our case, it would have been more like a Whore Code, but I actually like the sound of that – if it had meant anything, anyway.

While I was away, the girl that replaced me ended up TERRORISING HER ten-fold to what she did to me, apparently reducing her to tears on a daily basis; she even started to lose her hair because of the stress.

Oh, here’s me shedding a big fat tear while slurping a cup full of hot irony with whipped karma on top. Mmmmmm, that went down nice and smooth!

Mar 17, 2011

Didn't You Know?

I'm a Cunt Dragon!

That's right; it's been decided. The other day Kris over at Pretty All True was expressing her love for the Urban Dictionary on her twitter and I thought, 'Oh Yeah, I love that site up, down and sideways!' I have referred to it on numerous occasions when people have said something and I would be feeling like I was 10 years too late to the prom. What the hell were they talking about? Urban Dictionary consistently has the answer for me. I always thought I was fairly articulate, but it's a whole new ball game out there and I'm sadly only on first base.

Wow, I haven't said that since I was 11. Waa-wuhh.

So, whether or not you've been following my recent predicament, it occurred to me that a certain someone has probably created a special word for me and I could only imagine what it could be... and then I was reminded about the UD and I had a scan around to broaden my vocabulary. If I may offer up a suggestion, I totally want to be called a Cunt Dragon! Please? Can I? Can I?

It's offensive with a splash of mythical grandeur, don't you think? Can I express my inner anger through my vagina? I suuuuure as hell can! I LOVE IT. It's a worthy insult to which I can be 100% satisfied with.

So, now that I have officially manged to profoundly insult someone on my blog and spark some heated conversation, does that mean I've finally made it? Do I win a prize? Well, if my site traffic spiking through the roof and my host provider emailing me to tell me I need to increase my monthly bandwidth allowance is deemed a prize, I'll gladly take that with tea and a biscuit!

And for any future offenses that I probably will may commit, please address your complaints to Lady Estrogen, A.K.A. Mrs Cunt Dragon. Thank you.

Mar 16, 2011

Tale of a Stripper (Part 2)

So, without further adieu, here's part deux...    

I can still feel the trembling in my knees, just remembering that night. I had to walk down some steps onto the stage in super high heels that weren't even mine and into the spot light where about 6 men sat quietly at tables in the darkened room. There were several other girls sitting around or gyrating on various customers, but for the most part, it was quiet and terrifying. My heart was pounding and I wanted to throw up. I was completely sober, it was about 4 in the afternoon and I was about to take my top off for a room of strangers. I somehow managed to jiggle and wiggle around the stage for the duration of the song, but I'm sure it was horrible because I was so scared and shaky and I could feel my knees wanting to buckle the whole time.

I was pretty sure the manager would ask me to give back the dress and shoes and send me on my idiotic way. But to my shock and dismay, he hired me & told me that I could start the next night. Holy Shit! I didn't even want to do it anymore, I just wanted to go home and try to find my dignity and self-respect, take a shower and put on my fuzzy jammies.

But I didn't do any of those things. I went to the stripper store and bought myself some slutty dresses and fancy thongs and went back the next night, determined to overcome my fear. I came up with a fake name for myself and created a new identity. Each time I went on stage, I was a little bit less horrified by myself. A little more comfortable when the dress came off. Having a little bit more fun. I started to enjoy the sense of power that I had over the men in the club as I looked out and into their eyes and saw that I was their fantasy. I never let them touch me and yet they gave me their paychecks. They would whisper in my ear that they would go home that night & fuck their wife and be thinking of me while they did it.

I made $1000 my first weekend.

I worked 3 nights and came home with the same amount of money that I'd make in a month at my day job. I only worked for that month between interview and vacation because after that I didn't need the big cash flow anymore. It was tempting to stick with it because there were some great things about it, but I realized how easy it would be to get sucked into the whole life. I'd get accustomed to living a lifestyle that I couldn't afford while working an honest and honorable job. I could feel myself starting to despise men and see them only as pawns to be manipulated.

I knew that eventually I wanted to get married and have kids, but what kind of decent man would want a girl who was a stripper. I recognized that I needed to get out before it became my identity. It's fun to look back on that period of time and the things I saw and experienced while I was working there, but it has nothing to do with my life any more. I'm married to a wonderful man and have been for many years now. He knows about my little dip into depravity and he doesn't hold it against me. I'm thankful for the little snip of wisdom that I possessed at the young age of 21 to be able to walk away before any real harm was done.

And one valuable lesson I learned during that crazy month - never swing on a pole with gloves on. You will fall on your ass and look anything but sexy.

Mar 14, 2011

Tale of a Stripper (Part 1)

Hello my lovelies! This is a 2-parter Guest Post from one of my favorite ladies, "Paige". I hope you'll be seeing/reading more of her around here in the future. The Estrogen Army is growing, HA-ZAH!

Have you ever watched a movie where there was a stripper scene and wondered how those girls ended up on that stage with their tits swinging? Have you possibly been into a club that had dancing girls and you stared up at them & thought, "How can she do that? Doesn't she have any self-respect?" Maybe you figured she was from the wrong side of the tracks. Or grew up in a poverty-stricken, broken home. Or was trying to support a drug habit.

Well, I'm here to let you know that maybe that girl is none of those things. I grew up in a conservative home, always went to church, wasn't allowed to wear skirts above my knees or two piece bathing suits. I had 2 solid parents who loved and cherished me and a father who was neither absent nor over bearing.

Once I was out of high school, I decided that I was tired of the rules. I was sick of being a good girl & I wanted to see if maybe life was more fun on the wild side. It looked pretty glamorous in the movies and I wanted to get a little taste for myself. I started going to night clubs when I was 20. There was one club where it was a 3-in-1 deal. For the price of admission, you could go in the regular dance club, the male strip club or the female strip club. Mostly what happened was that the guys went in & watched the strippers and then came into the dance club all horny & looking for action.

After going there a few times and getting drunker than I care to admit, I started losing my inhibitions & started climbing up onto the bar with some of the other hootchies and dancing. Men would stand down below and hand me money. They didn't touch me, just gave me money. It was shocking when it first happened. Exciting to have strangers openly lusting for me and wanting to buy me drinks or beg me to go home with them. I was always flippant and most often rude, but that didn't seem to scare them off at all.

I did that for several months, going every weekend & coming home with only vague memories and piles of wadded, sticky cash. I planned a trip out of town to new york city, but it was only a month away & I would need a significant amount of money. I knew I couldn't make the money I needed with my day job or even with my piles of singles, so I needed to do something new and fast.

I looked through the classifieds and set up a time to meet with the manager of the fanciest strip club in town. I'd taken my top off a few times while dancing on the bar in my favorite club, but I'd always been drunk & surrounded by friends & others who were cheering me on. I thought this would be the same thing, but as it turned out, it was very different.

I dressed professionally for the interview because I didn't know any better. I lied & said that I'd been dancing at another little club in town because I was afraid that the manager wouldn't hire me if he knew I was a total rookie. He shook my hand and asked me a few questions & then told me I'd need to audition. He sent me down to the dressing room with another dancer who loaned me a dress and shoes. The DJ asked me what kind of music I liked and I was nudged out on stage.

To be continued on Wednesday...
so keep your panties on, for now anyway!

Mar 12, 2011

The Horny Trembler

I had gotten myself into another ‘secret’ arrangement with another boy at school – although this was much tamer than my rendezvous with the older boy I had the year before. What can I say except to quote Joey Lauren Adams from Chasing Amy, “I was an experimental child, for Christ’s sake!” The strange part of this awkward relationship was that he was actually the best friend of my sweetheart, Kevin. Maybe in a way, I thought that this would be as close as I would ever get, like a consolation prize. Meh; second place sucks.

What I found to be the most entertaining element of our little touching sessions was how incredibly horny this kid got. He would actually be quivering with his tongue very close to hanging out – and all I was doing was letting him feel my little boobs with my top off. Wow! I found it pretty amusing but also with a dash of creepy. I wasn’t overly eager about attending these private sessions, but I didn’t have anything better to do on a Saturday afternoon, so we kept it up for a few weeks.

I found my ‘out’ when he broke his wrist and had a giant cast on his right arm. We usually did a lot of our groping sessions in his pool, so I suggested we called it quits since he couldn't go swimming for a long time. He begged me to come over one last time and I reluctantly went. At least with the other boy, I was getting some physical pleasure out of it – with this boy, it was mostly just him ogling over me, not even any kissing! Although I enjoyed the attention, it was getting old and I got bored, fast. So, I went over this one last time. We went to his basement where they had the traditional old, crappy family couch that had been demoted down there when they bought a new one for the family room upstairs.

His horny trembling commenced like clockwork the moment I took off my clothes. I laid down on the ratty couch and he knelt down beside me and started to feel my body...with his cast-bound hand. I tried so hard not to laugh but all I could think of was that it felt like a crab was crawling up and down me. He had tried to feel my vagina but I could still only picture a little creature extending his skinny legs from his shell and frantically trying to burrow into my lady bits.
Sorry buddy, you ain’t going to find what you’re looking for doing that!

I had to sit up and put a stop to it – it was either that or breaking out into hysterics, but I really didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I let him have one last boob squeeze and I left.

The one thing I always wondered was whether there were a few bright auburn short ‘n curlies stuck inside his cast when they cut it off.

Mar 11, 2011

Oh Boy, I Love Cherries!

I think it's about time for something on the lighter side, eh? Hooo-lee Crap!

Thank you to my sexy friend over at Twisted Fate Rockin' Mama for bestowing upon me with this cute award. Cheers, hooker! Sorry, I wasn't able to get around to it until now, so deal with it.

Of course, with this award comes a few other duties, apart from thanking the giver of the award. Hey Rockin' Mama, I know how much you like being a giver!

List 3 things you love about yourself:
My eyes, my sense of humor & my creativity.

Post a picture that I love:
I took this when we were in Paris a few years ago and I recently did some Photoshopping to it to add some drama.

Pass this on to 5 other bloggers that also have that little bit extra!
How about 3? That's how many I want to do right now; suck it.
After Nine to Five
Strawberry Freckles
My Inner Pin-Up

I love these ladies and their beautiful blogs!

I've been long over-due for a Fawk You Friday, but I'm thinking I'll just build it all up for next week and let it all rip. Things are still a tad too raw to open that Pandora's Box today; I need a break ;)

Mar 10, 2011

Waiting For The End (My Un-Apology)

Dear Jim,

I already had a post lined up to be my final piece/peace to you but here's the thing...

This morning makes it two days since you responded to my post the way you did, and I was feeling like I'd been gutted. My stomach hasn't stopped wrenching; my head throbs and my heart aches.

You say that nothing is sacred? Everything is sacred; every single fucking moment. If it wasn't, it would not have been worth writing about. Every post I've written about you is sacred to me; they are extensions of myself. I won't apologize for being honest and expressing myself; and I will never apologize for what you have meant to me for all these years. Never.

I was driving alone today and this song came on; I had never heard it before and it caught my full attention. I had to pull over to the side of the road while I listened to the rest of it. When the song finished, I let out a fantastically loud and angry scream, thinking...
      if I screamed loud enough,
                 you could telepathically feel my sound waves
                                                                   on the other side of the world.

The scream then transitioned into an hysterical sob.
After about 5 minutes, I felt inexplicably better and I drove home.

I whole-heartedly believe that things happen for a reason, and I know that I was meant to hear this song at that particular moment. It helped me to heal a little bit, even if only for a moment. How could it not?

"Waiting for the end to come
Wishing I had strength to stand
This is not what I had planned
It's out of my control....

Flying at the speed of light
Thoughts were spinning in my head
So many things were left unsaid
It's hard to let you go... 

I know what it takes to move on, 
I know how it feels to lie, 
All I wanna do 
Is trade this life for something new 
Holding on to what I haven't got 

Sitting in an empty room 
Trying to forget the past 
This was never meant to last, 
I wish it wasn't so..."

Mar 8, 2011

Mommy dearest

I'm finding it difficult finding the words to pay tribute to such an amazing woman:
My mother.
I think what astounds me the most is although she has taught me so much, I struggle every day to be like her; to be a better person.

She is forgiving; I am not.
There have been some atrocities that have been done to my mother in the past and I know about them and who did them. She has forgiven them and yet I detest them. I will never forgive them and I have zero intentions to rectify those relationships.

She has over-come so much. Many (who have gone through much less) use their pasts as crutches as to why or how the world has done them wrong and it's at the root of all their current misfortune, poor choices, and short-comings. I often fail to empathize with these people because I think "If my mother could have done it, why couldn't you?"

She is able to move forward; I cannot forget the past.
I hold on to both good and bad things that have happened so tightly and I really cannot understand why I'm always so terrified to let go. I often feel that they make up a part of me and if I forget them, move on or let go, that I will be losing those parts of myself forever.

My mother has let go of many things and yet she remains whole. I see her lead by example and yet I cannot take that leap of faith.

After everything, she still has her faith. I lose mine on a daily basis. I see my faith more like genetic trait. I will not fight it and I will surely pass it down to my children, but I have no passion about it. I do believe, but I'm often angry with God.

My mother may be divine, but she is no saint. She has a fantastic sense of humor and whether she wants to admit it or not, it's one of the few qualities I did manage to get from her. Don't try to fight it, Ma, you're good and warped... and that is why you are so incredible to me.

You are my hero, my best friend and I love you.


Mar 7, 2011

I know you're a cannonball

I find it amusing that the first 'official' post after my exhausting (yet awesome) February Music Month happens to have music in it. Oops! Deal with it. If you missed any, you can click here to go to the entire list, all perfectly filleted out for you. How's that for organization? OK, so maybe it's not that special, but at least I've impressed myself. It seems as though this is the most organized thing in my life at the moment.

Be sure to check me out over at Almost There today, hosted by the ever-lovely SJ (@sazzim). I've sure spread my legs around blogger town this past week, however entirely coincidental that they were all published so close together. No matter, I've been enjoying writing some different guest posts that would otherwise not quite fit my own M.O. on here. It was the least I could do after all my fantastic submissions came in for Music Month! If you missed any of my other posts, please check out my Whoring Myself Out page.

You give? I give back.
I like giving.
I have a friend with the last name Head.
Her nickname in high school was Gives.
True story!
...but I digress.

Finally, it's time for Monday's Music Moves Me, hosted by XmasDolly. I've enjoy doing these and will aim to do these once a month. I can't make any promises beyond that - I know myself too well. This week's theme is Women Only - um, hello? Not a problem! One of the all-time greatest rockin' chick songs is Cannonball by The Breeders. It was hilarious when I finally saw this video because they were NOTHING what I had envisioned in my mind for them to look like. I think I like them even more now that I know they are average slightly edgy moms that know how to jam. Breeders, indeed; it's not just a clever name, then!

The bass guitar in this song? Oh, that bass guitar! It sure takes me back to some great high school sex, baby! Oh yeah, 100%! We'll have to forgive them for having a male drummer; Meg White would have only been 19 when this came out, still working out her shit ...although I believe she's available now!

Beir-ner-na-ner-ner!  Beir-ner-na-ner-ner! 


Mar 4, 2011

The Rockstar & the Virgin

My favourite band was going to be in town and I knew I had to do something above and beyond to try and meet them; I just had to. I guess it would be classified as "groupie" behaviour, but I didn't care. It was leaked out as to where they "might" be staying, so a friend and I went down to the hotel early that morning to check it out. There weren't as many people staked out as I thought there would be, but maybe we were just there earlier than the others.

After a couple hours, two men came out of the hotel with sunglasses on and hoodies. My stomach flipped; I knew it was the lead singer and the bass player. I gave my friend a hard squeeze and myself a quick "BE COOL" pep talk before I briskly walked over to where they were. My stomach was in my throat and I could hear my heart pounding in my ears when I smiled and put it out there, "Hey there! Do you guys need any tour guides for the day?" He turned around and looked me up and down - I knew it was slightly obvious that he was 'sizing me up' but again, I didn't care. He quickly glanced at his band mate and then shrugging his shoulders, he smiled back, "Sure. You young ladies want to join us for breakfast?"

I won't divulge into that part too much other than it was an incredible morning, but the best was yet to come. The lead singer and I actually hit it off and he was totally coming on to me. I wasn't stupid; I knew how these things usually played out. The thing I should mention was that although I was sexually liberal and had a couple sex toys, I was technically a virgin. I don't know why, really! I guess there just wasn't anyone that had come along yet that I wanted to have penetrate my holiest of holies... until that day.

He asked me if I wanted to come back to the hotel. HELL YA! My friend gave me a wink of approval and she left me at the hotel. We quickly made our way to the bed as he undressed me. Surprisingly, I wasn't nervous - just really fucking turned on. It was like I was having a fantasy out-of-body experience; I couldn't believe this was happening. I was well versed in oral sex and I pulled out all the stops! I wanted it to be the best head I'd ever given, and I think it was - he was sure vocal about it while he finished and of course I swallowed. I knew that would be an added bonus.

He pushed me back on to the bed, gently spread my legs in the air and began to go down on me. HOLY CRAP! I don't know why, but I wasn't expecting him to be, how to I say it? Attentive towards MY needs, but he really, really was - and that long tongue wasn't just good for singing, that's for damn sure! It didn't take too long before I started to climax - quicker than it had taken with other guys, but then again, they weren't fucking famous rockstars; apparently, that really helps!

He took a little break to get a condom and water for the both of us. He came back to bed and after a quick make-out interlude, he gestured for me to turn over. OK, so my first time was going to be doggie style? Eik, I was a little nervous now, but there was NO WAY I was going to tell him. I guess my giant sized dildo marathons payed off, because it was fine - actually, it was pretty good! And then he started to laugh...

I guess I should now mention that I actually have HIS PORTRAIT tattooed on MY ASS!

"I think this is the first time I've stared at myself during sex... without a mirror, anyway!" He was smiling and I could feel his thumb rubbing over 'his face'. "It's pretty fucking impressive, for sure!"

"Thanks!" With my ass in the air and face in a pillow, I didn't think I needed to say anything else.

I was there with him for another 2 hours before he had to go for a meeting. He ordered some amazing room service for the both of us; we talked for a while and had sex again. Then, he gave me some VIP passes to the show and invited me back for the next night... and so I did. Of course the concert also fucking rocked - but that goes without saying! It was one of the craziest weekends of my life, hands down.

Before it was time for us to part ways for good, he said, "Come here for a sec!" He was sitting on a chair and guided me over to him... and then yanked down my pants from the back. He pulled out a Sharpie and he signed his autograph underneath my tattoo (of his face), and then gave me an affectionate slap on the butt.

After one last hot kiss and a hug, I left his room... and went straight to the tattoo parlor to have that autograph permanently fused to my body.

I'm sure you're dying to know... but I'll be leaving that up to your own imagination.

Mar 3, 2011

Just a Quickie!

This is just a quick post because there's a lot of shit going on today!

1. Check out my saucy & sexy smut literature over at Scandal in the Choir Loft. Hope you enjoy reading, because I sure enjoyed, ahem, writing it!

2. I also have a post over at The Widow Lady today. This one is more emotional and about growing up without my biological father.

3. Boobies, Babies & A Blog WON my music month contest and she was kind enough to pimp my online store over on her blog today.

4. SAHMlovingit has a Friday post up by me as well! I'm not really this ambitious normally - it's a total coincidence that all these are up on the same week. Enjoy!

And finally...

5. Tomorrow is the Grand Finale of Music month. I know I went a little over, but February is too damn short and I couldn't leave out any of my incredible guest posts. The story belongs to a friend of mine and I just had put it into words. I lost touch with her years ago, but it is a story that MUST be told in all its rockin' glory. Here's me doing my electric air guitar: Bow-chicka-neeeerrr-neeeerrrrr!

Mar 2, 2011

The Sound of Urchin

I think one of the best music memories I have is from 2000-2001. I went to see Tenacious D at the ‘Kool Haus’, in Toronto. The opening band was ‘The Sound of Urchin’. I heard about this band in the #Ween forums. Typically, if you liked Ween, you liked The Sound of Urchin. I looked them up on the Internet and watched their live sets (videos) before the concert to check out if they were any good; they were awesome.

Finally the day of the concert came. Tenacious D was hilarious, imagine that. The Sound of Urchin took centre stage and played their energetic set with all their heart and soul; it was fan-flippping-tastic!

After the show, my friend Ashley and I headed out the side entrance. We bumped into the singer/drummer of the Sound of Urchin. ‘Awesome Kiss T-shirt!’ he commented to Ashley. Immediately, he pointed to his shirt; he was wearing a Kiss T-shirt too. We shared a laugh and then he asked us if we wanted to join their band’s mailing list. We said “Sure!” he handed us a pen and paper and we wrote our names and email addresses down on this piece of paper.

Soon, I was receiving e-mails from the band with their updates, photos, videos and contests. I entered one of their e-mail contests and lost. BUT, they e-mailed me back and asked for my mailing address. I gave them my dorm address, thinking... meh; it’s just my dorm address and forgot about it. A few weeks later a package arrived for me at the front desk of my dorm. I LOVE packages! Quickly, I opened it like it was a million dollar cheque. Inside the package were two CDs. One CD was all ghetto in a plain paper sleeve with ‘Toronto Concert’ written on it in black permanent marker. The other CD was a sampler with one song by The Sound of Urchin.

I couldn’t believe it! The band mailed me a copy of the concert I saw them at earlier in the year. The Sound of Urchin boys took the time to burn and mail me a copy of the concert at their own expense. What a great Rock’n Roll memory!

By: Michelle Fran├žoise

Mar 1, 2011

And The Winner Is...

Boobies, Babies & A Blog!
Thanks to the Random generator, I have my first official winner on my first linky :) HOORAY! Email me to collect your very own "Rock My Blog" booty!

And a really HUGE thank you to everyone that linked up their music posts; it was such a great turn out and have met some great new friends along the way. I was super nervous when I began, but now that I've lost my "Linky Virginity", I'm all loose and uninhibited about the whole thing - isn't that always the way?

This whole month of my musical homages (and wonderful guest posts) have been fantastic and I hope you enjoyed the ride with me. Since I've lived in 3 continents, I know my tastes are a bit all over the map, literally, and I hope that I've introduced some music that otherwise you wouldn't have heard about. Spreading the love of music reminds me of passing on STDs... but in an awesome way; intimacy with no antibiotics needed! Wot, wot!

I'll be wrapping up this musical trip with two last posts; a final guest post on Wednesday and the Grand Finale on Friday; I can assure all of you, we'll be going out with a BANG.

Stay tune'd...