A few things have been sticking in my craw lately, so I’m going to share them all with you, my lovely readers. Have fun.
1. Littles. This shit drives me fucking nuts. If you want to act like a 4 year old in your house/relationship, hey whatever, knock yourself out. I’ll keep my opinions of how stupid you sound and look and act to my Owner and I. But when you go onto public forums that don’t involve “littlespeak or littleacts”, keep that shit to yourself! Don’t be subjecting me, non-consensually, to your stupid-ass role playing. It’s “with”, not “wif”. It’s “doggie”, not “goggie”. If my actual 4-year old son talked like you “littles” talk, he’d be in speech therapy post-haste. If he behaved like you littles behave, he’d be sitting in the corner learning how to interact with the rest of the world properly. I come onto adult forums to discuss adult topics with adults. Do you get the main point in that last sentence? Adult. So if you want to type like a brain-damaged preschooler, why the fuck are you on a sex-themed adult orientated website?!Which one is it: are you an adult who likes to sound like a kid who’s mom drank way too much, or are you a 4 year old who is somewhere they shouldn’t be? My 4 year old doesn’t get to use the computer. He sure as hell doesn’t get to go to websites with naked men and women splashed around. You want to talk and act like that? Go to a littles board. Don’t be dragging the rest of the adults into that babyshit when you are on regular fora. Dont like that? Go eat your fucking crayons and piss your diapers.
2. My neighbor seems to think that it is perfectly fine to lie and receive benefits form the state, because, well, the immigrant Mexicans get so much for doing nothing. Also, she doesn’t believe this is a racist statement, because, well, it’s true, she says. She is oblivious to how much of a dumbass she is. She seems to believe that because she is white, she is somehow more deserving of the state assistance than those damned Mexican immigrants she’s always bitching about. She whinges on about how she is getting her food stamps cut off because her man returned to work after a scheduled lay-off, I’m mumbling uninterested grunts in response, then she starts rambling on about the shit she bought at an auction for her kids, who have so much shit already that you literally can not take two steps in their rooms without stepping on or running into toys. Or the horse they bought. Or the big-screen tv. It’s a clue, you stupid white-trash racist bitch. Get one.
3. Being fat doesn’t mean I have “issues”. I had issues, and they had a great deal to do with the weight I put on over 5 years ago. I’m still overweight, now that the issues are dealt with, and I’m slowly getting back down to where I should be. It takes a lot of fucking hard work and dedication to lose weight that’s been stuck to you for 5 years. Medications can really pack a wallop on the scale, especially that hard-core anti-psychotic shit. So can the Depo shot. I had both. On top of that, they had me on a sedative, which is not conducive to getting up on a treadmill to keep the other drugs from weighing me down. Now that I am not on them, it will take me a few more years to undo the effects. Don’t dismiss my hard work and effort by lumping it all on a case of not enough determination or honor for my Owner. That isn’t it, not by a long shot. Anyone who wants to judge me by my weight now is free to see me again in 5 years, when I’m back to a fighting weight and would happily kick your ass. At least it won’t hurt as much then, as it would now, with my extra 80 lbs of weight behind each kick and punch.
4. What is with people on the ‘net trying to dictate what my Owner should find pleasing in His slave? I keep stumbling across shit like “a slave should be seen and not heard” or “a slave should be graceful, demure and soft, an example rare of the feminine flowering self”. Or my personal favorite, exhorting slaves to “let the Man do the hard work, and relegate yourself to the feminine domain; taking the trash out, yard work and the likes do not enhance your women’s mystique. These are things best suited for men. Do not challenge His ability to do so without help, for you may be unwittingly challenging His manliness.” I’m just going to say this: If my ability to drive a tractor, run a rototiller, haul wood and water or wrangle animals threatens His manliness, that’s His issue, not mine. And we would definitely not be a good pairing. This is the fucking country. We can’t afford to discount my ability to assist Him out on the grounds just to maintain what some jackass and his melting slave of submission feel real slaves should look and act like. The Man demands that I be able and ready to help out on physically demanding jobs from time to time. It’s what He wants in a slave. A female slave. He finds the concept of my strength and willingness to work appealing, just as He can appreciate when I’m dressed in a skirt and heels, makeup and hair carefully coiffed. I’d posit that an owner who finds a slave who works hard and has a certain hardness of the personality so horrifying and unpalatable take a good look at why he needs a weak-willed stuffed doll of a slave to make him feel good about his masterliness. I am a workhorse slave. I work for Him as He sees fit, and He finds pleasure in me being by His side doing something demanding and tiring. He finds pride in seeing me able to do typically masculine manual tasks that would have never occurred to me to try. I can schmooze and charm at parties, I can carry myself with dignity at dinners, I can fuck like the best of ’em in bed, and I can go get the whatzit from the toolbox or chain up a deadfall the way He wants it. I dare you to tell Him I am doing it wrong.