I’m Back, I’m Bad, and I’m Tan

How many of you missed me?  That many of you?!!  Well, I am back from my vacation to Puerto Rico.  Tanning than ever, more relaxed than I have been in years, and fully charged and ready to get down and dirty with whatever comes my way until the next vacation.

Here are a couple of personal admissions and observations that smacked my brain during the trip:

Most of my fears have no basis in reality – that is to say, I have no justification for fearing certain things.  Yet I am still plagued by the strangest fears in normal situations that produce an overwhelming anxiety in my mind and then my body.

The combination of airplanes and flying freaks me out.  I hate flying.  Planes freak me out.  And I have no reasonable explanation as to why I have this dominating fear.  Every jerk, drop, or bounce – I start looking around at people’s facial expressions for comfort, the kind of body language exploration that will grant me a moment or two of serenity.  I’ll look for a nod of approval so that I can finally relax.  The whole “I know how you feel; I’ve been there” response without words.

I eventually worked myself up on this short flight (like five or six hours) to the point that sleeping became my sole remedy.  I can’t figure out why I am afraid of flying, which is what bothers me the most.  I flew back and forth from my father’s city every Thanksgiving, Christmas, birthday, or any cause for celebration since I was a kid because my parents were divorced.  I never freaked out when I was younger, so this is a relatively new sense of emotional discomfort.

Regardless, I made it through the flight.  There and back.  And now I am home bragging about how I managed to sleep my way into forgetting that I was thousands of miles in the air, high above deep oceans and massive cities.  Maybe this was a one time event (wrapped up into two flights) for me?  I’m not sure, but I hope that’s the case.

While in Puerto Rico I refused to stay on the resort property.  I spent several hours each night sitting in the hot tub or swimming in the pool, but during the day I was out and about, mixing it up with the locals, who I found to be quite friendly and helpful.  Why go on vacation to another country and sit by a pool or hang out with people I could visit with in my own country?  I could have saved a lot of money by just staying in the US if that’s what I wanted.

So, yeah.  I said screw that … I am going to snorkel, swim, eat, and whatever else with an unfamiliar culture.  Great, great experience.  The food, fantastic.  Loved every dish at each restaurant.  I even managed to force down squid and sea snails.  Yuck, right?  The stuff tasted wonderful.  Kinda like chicken with a rubbery texture.  I figured both would be somewhat slimy, but that wasn’t the case.  If you ever plan on visiting San Juan or Fejardo, I can help you find the best spots to eat at.  (Most of the better restuarants are expensive, so keep that in mind.)

I took sex toys with me.  Several of my favorite vibrators, my favorite dildo, and of course, my lovely fella.  Lots of sex, several times a day.  I’m not the most exciting lover on most days, as I am so worn out with work.  I need to mix a little pleasure into my life, especially seeing as I am in the adult toy business.  It becomes all too easy to pull out a toy and please myself in a few minutes, whereas my guy is ready for a long night of sex and experimentation.

Part of it is having the kids and working so many hours, but the other part, I think, is the saturation of sex-related themes in my work life.  I have a libido; I am … Well, I am lazy lover, or have been over the last 4-5 months.  This trip allowed me enough time and relaxation to really open up.  I was bad.  A bad, bad girl.  We had sex in the pool, hot tub, and on the beach.  Public sex!  I hadn’t done that in a long time, so it was an enthralling experience.  And the naughtiest of times in our room, which overlooked the ocean. My sex toys, too, were used in new and innovative ways that, for whatever reason, hadn’t ever occured possible.

Trash.  I don’t consider myself to be the best environmentalist.  But – I get really upset about seeing trash everywhere.  I’ve been known to pick up my neighbors’ trash frequently, if only to keep my sanity within grasp.  If I see trash on the ground, even in the city, I pick it up.  I get so pissed off when I see trash laying on the ground.  In fact, it’s one of the few things that make me angry.  Puerto Rico is full of trash: cigarette buds are everywhere, beer cans on the beach, diapers sitting in the grass, wrecked car parts laying all over the street.  And in the ocean, I noticed all of these things and more (even a Halloween costume!) laying on the sandy bottom as I snorkeled.

I fished out trash, threw it on the beach, and eventually put my new collection of discards in a trash can.  The locals watched me like I was crazy, wondering what the hell I was doing.  I couldn’t help myself, I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t walk or swim away with all that trash in the ocean.  And, most of all, I couldn’t understand why anyone would throw away his or her shit in the ocean or on the beach.  This happened at most of the beaches we frequented.  It was a sad, disgusting sight still bothering me.

The resort itself wasn’t very clean, either.  When I mentioned this to the manager, he responded by saying, “This is a third world country.”  At which time, I asked him, “Is this a third world resort?  Because if it is, I need a third world hotel rate, because I significantly overpaid.”  He didn’t like that response, so he followed it up with, “It did rain several days ago and the river probably washed up most of the trash you are referring to.”  Again, I retorted, “Did the river wash tons of trash under my hotel room’s balcony?”  He took a few notes and said, “I will mention this to the general manager.” He wrote something down, but it had little to do with the trash we discussed.

Small cars rock.  Sort of.  Don’t ever drive a big car or a truck in Puerto Rico.  The roads are surprisingly narrow and people do not slow down, so there were a few times that we barely managed to escape a collision.  The police officers drive with their lights on for no apparent reason.  People honk for no real reason at all.

If you don’t like beggars coming up to your car in the city, you will dislike Puerto Rico, since locals flood each and every stop sign and traffic light, seeking free money or for drivers to purchase cold beverages or tropical fruit.  No one is rude or demanding, or expects anything.  It’s their version of business mingling in a society that lacks jobs, education, and overall economic advancement.  But this process works for them, as many people preferred to purchase beverages from their cars rather than pull over at a gas station.

So, I had a great time, learned a lot about my fellow human beings and myself, and found enough time to mix in some sexy pleasure.  Plus all the lounging on the beach and snorkeling in the ocean.  Oh, and I found a massive conch shell and gigantic starfish on the Seven Seas Beach in Fejardo.  Both sea creatures were alive, which added a lot of excitement.  I plan on posting some pictures in the coming days – if I don’t get too behind with catching up.

Hope everyone has been doing well.

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Sex Toys and Texas

I’m not going to spend a whole lot of time discussing the ongoing battle between Texas politicians and religious groups versus sex toys, adult toy retailers, and people who enjoy a good buzz or two. Why does it matter what another person or couples do in the privacy of their home? If both individuals are consenting adults, the government shouldn’t have a say in his or her or their affairs. Apparently and thankfully, the law has spoken in agreement, since sex toys are now legal in Texas.

Texas Attorney General Greg Abbott, though, seems determined to push his luck. Will he pursue this “cause” to the highest level? Seems Texas is finished with this debate and unless the Supreme Court wants to waste its precious time on plastic gizmos that give men and women pleasure, Texas might as well view itself as the Sex Toy State, with Alabama lagging behind.

Mind you, the State of Texas now taxes topless bars to fund state services. Yes, purchasing a sex toy for private pleasures is obscene, wrong, and immoral – but we’ll tax the hell out of “titty” bars because state funds are running low! The hypocrisy is sickening. While I would never dream of being a topless dancer or owning that type of bar, I am fine with women and/or men choosing erotic dancing as their profession. If you want to dance for money and it works for you, who am I to tell you what is right or wrong? It might not be right for me, but that doesn’t mean it’s not right for you.

My point is simple: the State of Texas wants to ride the back of a largely “public” sex-related industry, taxing it to replenish dwindling state funds, while at the very same moment ban a sex-related industry that focuses on providing women and men and couples with sex toys for their own “private” use. I assure you that a tax – oh, yes – a tax on sex toys is coming, as soon as Greg Abbott decides how far he wants to push this issue.

We live in a country where health insurance and pharmaceuticals are afterthoughts for many people, because they simply cannot afford to take care of basic health concerns.

A place where education of all forms, especially for K-12, is falling behind our competitors in the global economy. (Texas education is, without a doubt, lacking substance and performance.)

A land where some man with a holy roller agenda can tell a woman what she should or should not do with her own body.

A fairy tale creation where imaginary heroes and leaders can wage illegal wars through manipulating the public into agreement, with devilish lies and schemes.

A wonderful place of freedom where politicians believe it’s alright for employers to discriminate against people of differing sexual orientations and gender issues.

But you can bet your ass if they can’t eradicate what they view as “immoral” or “obscene”, they’ll tax the living hell out of it. Unless it is a corporate golf buddy promising campaign contributions and future vacation hot spots. (Just don’t go hunting with Dick Cheney – he’s a bad shot.)

How is it that alcohol companies, tobacco companies, pharmaceutical companies, real estate and banking industries – yes, that they can cause whatever damage they want, to whomever they wish, without suffering extreme consequences? All made more insane by the fact that jerk offs like Greg Abbott waste state funds and taxes on attempting to ban sex toys! As if the State of Texas doesn’t have enough problems to deal with: drugs, violent crimes, hate crimes, death penalty, murder, rape, gangs, teenage pregnancy, poverty, poor educational infrastructure … all the important issues.

/Rant Over

Sex Toy Theft, Criminals, and Fallen Angels

Consider the following Henry Morgan quote:

A kleptomaniac is a person who helps himself because he can’t help himself.

Sex toy thievery. Take the above quote and apply it to out of control sex toy fetishes. Want an example of someone sexing out beyond their means? Screw it, I’ll give you two recent examples of individuals who recently stole sex toys in the most bizarre of circumstances, in the strangest ways.

I can’t remember sex toy theft being a major issue in the past, but with adult toys becoming mainstream sexual enhancement devices, I guess we will witness a revival of peculiar sex toy incidences.

The first story:

Man Pleads Guilty to Sex Toys Theft

Daniel Edward Ray broke into three sex toy stores in Springfield, Illinois, back on January 24, 2008. He pleaded ‘no contest’ to the charges. His sentence hearing is scheduled for September, 2008. He used a baseball bat to bash in the windows of one sex toy shop and then, in all his brilliance, decided to use his car as battering ram for the other two stores. Dude was straight desperate to get his hands on some sex toys, and not just a few – but a lot of sex toys.

His ex-girlfriend ratted him out to the cops, explaining that Daniel Edward Ray had a little something-something for sex stuff. [Who doesn’t? But that doesn’t mean the craziest of pervs are going to smash their car into the front doors and windows of the local sex shop.] The “sex toy bandit”, as the local press referred to him, was captured on surveillance cameras during his moment of passion, and left behind traces of blood and – get this – fingernails. At first he denied the allegations but certainly came around when the police showed him the evidence.

He blames his methamphetamine addiction as the root of his troubles. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Or maybe the dude just has a thing for stealing strange shit. He was on parole for burglary at the time of sex toys theft, so he’s looking at hardcore jail time – which means, like, six months in jail.

The second story:

Pastor Succumbs to Psalm 69 Sexual Urges, Breaks Into Home, and Steals Woman’s Sex Toy and Lube

On July 25, 2008, a South Carolina pastor, Scott Murray, broke into a woman’s home, raided her panty drawer, and stole one bottle of lube and an unidentified sex toy.  Felony burglary and larceny charges have been filed.  Repressed sexuality comes out in the strangest ways, yes?  Bizarre. Funny enough, this guy was part of the OUTREACH program.

He stole a used sex toy, which reminds of the Used Sex Toy Listing on Craigslist that came out a few years back. Only this pastor was for real, whereas the listing was a complete hoax. I know some wild ass people and none of them would ever consider stealing a used sex toy, especially if it means breaking into someone’s home to get it. Why are the religious freaks the ones who are involved in more sexual scandals than anyone else? Repressed sexuality, I guess. All that pent up sexual energy screws with normal brain function.

Shocked! Armageddon is here! Pastor surprises congregation with sex toy fetish:

what’s your fetish?

water the furry

Peekaboo II

Awhile back I was talking to Vandalin and I realised just how easy it was for anyone I know personally to stumble across my blog and find out that it was me through the stuff I blog about. This is especially so since my blog seems to have gained popularity among a few people from NUS as well. To protect my own ass, I password protected some of the more intimate postings, of which the password would not be revealed to anyone.

NotoriousV came up with this brilliant idea to put in some pictures of herself and password protect the post, and I think it really is a brilliant idea. I mean, a blog with no pictures, how boring. So thanks V! =)

So anyway, Peekaboo is a password protected post, but anyone is welcome to ask me for the password. At a price, of course.

If you want the password to that post, send me an email telling me:

Why you deserve the password, in a 100 words or less.
If I don’t know you already, tell me abit about yourself in 50 words or less.

If I like you enough, I’ll give you the password. 😉

Oh, email can be found in the “About Me” page.

How interesting..

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From NotoriousV’s blog:

A Pubic Area stencil!!! Now you can (s)have it anyway you want.

Hmm, I might get one make it a nice surprise for….erm..whoever.