Saturday, March 29, 2008

Was it an alien abduction?

After meeting Powder and before meeting Art, I met Slick. Slick was also from the dating site. He seemed like a nice guy and maybe he truly is but to me he’s a:

On my dating site profile, I post my age minus 2 years but am truthful about everything else. I’m a middle-aged, mother of two grown children, not Playboy material. I go on to say that I have a good sense of humor, I’m willing to experiment, am pretty much up to do anything and that I have a variety of interests. I told the truth. Slick’s profile was close to mine in the fact that we wanted “Friends with Benefits” and not a life partner. He also seemed to have a great sense of humor. He sounded like an up-front kind of man.

We exchanged approximately 40 emails and talked several times on the phone before we met. Here’s some of his emails:

HI again
I think we may have a rhythm going, but it looks like we may be on the same wavelength.
I am not looking for one-night stands, looking for a good friend for more then one night.
I hope we can get to know each other soon, look forward to talking to you

Thanks for writing, I am not married and have a good sense of humor.
I would love you to show me your body art, and your piercings gave me a few carnal thoughts, so no nothing you have said have bothered me only got me more interested.
You sound like you may be a lot of fun and someone I would like to get to know. I like your pic, and I think I like your mind. Let's talk soon

Your programmed in my phone, hope we talk soon, have a feeling we have the same sense of humor. I don't go to as many concerts as in the past; my last was Dave Mathews, but am up for it. Talk soon

I like hearing things about you more is better. You have a busy mind, little like me, never rests.
Sorry you have had a tough time lately, you need some fun. It's funny; my business partners' wife sells pure romance stuff, so I know a little about your new products.
I know your going to be an interesting woman to get to know and I know you are fun in and out of bed.
If it's OK I will call tomorrow, know your busy today

I like the way your brain works, I know your going to be a hard one to BS, my name is Slick. I did that because it's so easy to find out where I live because of my license and I had this woman a couple of years ago who I had one lunch with, she would show up at my house a lot and I had a hard time getting her to leave me alone. Ed actually used to work for me, so I have been a little more careful, I don't think you’re a nutball, well maybe but in a good way.
I am going out of town next weekend, maybe the next or whenever you can find the time, I am flexible. Talk to you tomorrow
(His profile name was "Ed Smith.")

Actually, I thought it was great talking to you, we talked 92 minutes. It was very easy and if the rest of our interactions go that well, we are going to have a lot of fun together. Talk to you soon
(This was after our second phone call.)

your so much fun, can't wait to you have your way with me and I will let you hurt me so good, you do make me smile a lot, I wish I didn't have to go out of town this weekend, anticipation

Sounds great, right? I believe that nice guys will tell the truth. I might be naïve in thinking they will. However, I’m honest so I expect them to be.

Now, I know – y’all will call me on the age lie but that isn’t the type of thing I mean. When I meet a man and feel that it won’t work, for whatever reason, I tell them. I’ll also tell a guy, “Yes, I like that.” Or “I’m not sure, let’s talk about it some more.” I also expect honesty from them. The men I’m meeting are not youngsters and neither am I. We should be beyond the games and fear of rejection. I am. Rejection can hurt but I’m old enough to pout for a day and then build a bridge to get over it. Shit happens – all the fucking time!

I met Slick at his house. He was personable, funny, intelligent and not bad looking. We talked for quite a while before he leaned in to kiss me. He was a good kisser. Starting out softly then building the intensity. He didn’t use his tongue like a toilet snake. Very nice. We sat on his couch kissing, feeling and getting our clothing generally disheveled. After a little while, Slick suggested we go in to the bedroom.

Now I probably should have had a little flash of insight at this point. His bed wasn’t made and the TV was on. I apparently was in a lust filled fog because it didn’t set off an alarm. Not even a teeny-tiny one. After all, he had gone out and bought Guinness for me. We proceeded to get undressed and fall onto each other, still kissing. He got right down to business. His hands went to my breasts, squeezing then pinching my nipples. He kissed my neck. His tongue trailed down my chest and he sucked on each erect nipple in turn. Meanwhile, his hand moved between my legs. I moved to open them and he plunged in. He fingered me with one finger while his thumb rubbed my clit. I bit his neck and pushed against his hand. He was very adept at making a woman cum just with his fingers but when he withdrew his hand and applied his tongue, I decided he just might be related to Gene Simmons. He was crazy mad with his lips, tongue and teeth. Gods! He was brilliant! I came several times. Now, I was really turned on. I struggled to a semi-seated position, put my hands on either side of his head and told him to come up.

Once he lay next to me, I reached down to grasp his modest cock. He was very hard, so I stroked him and cupped his balls. He moaned deep in his throat. I bit his neck and then toyed with his nipples. He pushed himself against me. I whispered, “Would you like me to suck you?” His reply was, “No. I’m going to fuck you.” He swiftly donned a condom and knelt between my legs, he pulled them up to his shoulders and without preamble, slid into me. He pounded away for a bit. It was good because he was a bit rough, which I like very much. I watched his face. He looked at me and smiled before his head went back and a silent scream escaped his mouth. His arms tightened and trembled under my hands. I knew he had cum. He sighed then lowered his body to mine. His head was on my chest and I stroked his back as we lay there, catching our breath.

It was really quite lovely, laying there until I felt something wet and cold on my hip. I jumped, he jumped off me and the scream died in my throat when I saw it was his dog, a Great Dane that had come in to see what was going on. He decided to get a bit too close with his sniffing. A Great Dane has a fucking huge nose!

Slick and I laughed when the dog looked at us, snorted and returned to the living room. After that, we lay in bed with each other sharing a beer and just talking about nothing.
I was relaxed. He seemed happy. There were rainbows, lollipops and Smurfs dancing around us. Well …… not really but you know the feeling after a good fuck.

I was starting to get too relaxed and knew I had a long drive home so I told Slick it was time for me to leave. I excused myself to his bathroom to get myself together. He slipped on a pair of shorts and met me in the living room. He pulled me to him, kissed me deeply and held me closely. He said, “Would you come back if I asked you?” I assured him I would. He was intelligent, nice, a decent lover and a good guy. So? What’s not to like, right? He walked me to my car, gave me one more kiss and I left.

The next day, I thought I would receive an e-mail or text saying, “Thanks!” or “Had a good time.” Or “See you soon.” Or “Go fuck yourself!” or “This isn’t going to work.” Something! Anything! I mean, even Powder had the good grace to shut the fucking door on the friendship. I heard not a peep from Slick. Late in the day, I sent him an e-mail.

I thanked him for a lovely evening and hoped that he also enjoyed himself. I know full fucking well he did but I had to say something. No response from him that night or all the next day. This from a man that had e-mailed and called on a regular basis! Then two more days went by with silence. Had he died? Did I have the “Pussy of Death?” Had he been in an accident and was stuck in a ditch or canal? Was he abducted by aliens? I went onto the dating site to check if he had been there. Sure enough, the man had been on the site everyday since I’d seen him.

I sent one last e-mail:

Slick ~ You’re not a gentleman but I’m a lady, so I won’t write what I’m thinking. I’m also a grown woman with a great mind and a healthy ego. If you didn’t enjoy yourself nor don’t think we’d work as FWB, then you should have just told me. Instead, you withdrew and hid like a child that’s broken his mother’s favorite figurine. Good-bye.

I have never heard from Slick again. I thought, briefly, that I was a horrid lay or that I had bad breath but I decided, rather quickly, that it was him and not me. I guess that after Powder and Slick, I could only do better in my quest for “Friends With Benefits.” And I have. Mulder (since he's had his epiphany) and I are having regular and better sex than ever. Mulder is a wonderful student who loves to learn new and exciting sexual things. He’s a good friend, an excellent father and a good man. I have Art who makes me laugh. Art loves to talk about all kinds of things; he’s a wonderful lover, cook and friend. I also have Vincent. He’s the man I credit for lighting the spark in my zombie heart that opened a whole new world for me. You’ll be hearing more about Vincent and Mulder in the future.

Slick could have put me off the whole “dating” thing but he didn’t. His lesson to me was to enjoy the moment and don’t worry too much about what’s coming tomorrow because it could be something even better. If it's not, at least you had fun yesterday. I can't in good conscious let this end on a sweet note, being a BITCH, I feel I must award Slick with my:

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Happy Easter!

As usual, I'm late with my wishes but these holidays are coming up too damn fast! I hope y'all had a great day and had lots and lots of chocolate bunnies and Cadbury eggs.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

I think someone is trying to tell me something!

nitebyrd --



'How will you be defined in the Sexual Dictionary?' at

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Tagged by Fat Controller

FC tagged me to reveal my Inexplicable Crush. I actually have two. I went with the person that was easier for me to explain. Tom Brokaw is the other.

Tim, Tim, Tim! That twisted genius behind – “Edward Scissorhands”, “Big Fish”, “Ed Wood”, “The Nightmare Before Christmas”, and so many other gloriously skewed movies. He is my inexplicable crush.

I fantasize being in a cold, empty castle with him as he goes from brooding to maniacal in his process to create another brilliant film. Oh! The conversations (and passionate sex) we would have.

Tim Burton makes me shiver in the most delightful way.

I'm going to tag ~ Ron from *Vent*, Dazzed and Confused (Who will now be known to y'all as Mulder, I'll explain later), Magnus from Velvet Darkness and Leather N Pearls.

Monday, March 17, 2008


When we drink, we get drunk.When we get drunk, we fall asleep.When we fall asleep, we commit no sin.When we commit no sin, we go to heaven.So, let's all get drunk, and go to heaven!

May you always have walls for the winds,a roof for the rain, tea beside the fire,laughter to cheer you, those you love near you,and all your heart might desire.

Saturday, March 15, 2008


Awhile ago, Jackie Adshead, tagged me with - Seven Random Facts. It took me a long time to think of 7 interesting things about me but here it is.

1. I’m a published poet.

2. I was featured in Entertainment Weekly magazine as an “Obsessive Fan of the Week.”

3. I was formerly a Vice-President of a limited edition collectible company

4. My half-sister, my only sibling, is 20 years older than me and my oldest nephew is 5 years younger than me.

5. I’m a member of the Embroiders Guild of America.

6. During my life I’ve owned and loved 40+ cats.

7. Making weird dolls and purses is my passion.

I'm going to tag, Dazzed and Confused, Magnus and Butterfly. Have at it, guys!



I'm obsessed with NICKELBACK! Chad Kroeger ("The best hung guy in Rock & Roll!), Ryan Peake, Mike Kroeger and the incredibly sexy Daniel Adair. Jeez! Bobby Fucking Sherman - RON!!! Leif Garrett - WTF??? sorrow11. I'm old and crazy! When I was young, I was obsessed with Michael J. Pollard. Here's the letter that made me an "Obsessive Fan:"

February 19, 2007

Entertainment Weekly

1675 Broadway

New York, New York 10019

Dear EW:

Yes, this is me. A (Dear God, shall I say it?) NICKELBACK FAN! A card carrying, paid member of the Nickelback Fan Club, proud owner of all label released Nickelback CD’s and DVD’s and many, many bootlegs. A dyed-in-the-wool, multiple concert going – NICKELBACK FAN.

I am also, not as proud to proclaim, a long time subscriber to Entertainment Weekly.

Why, you’re asking is such a zealous Nickelback fan writing to the very publication that refuses to acknowledge the existence of the band? You, sirs/ladies, have now answered your own question. Entertainment Weekly totally ignores one of the greatest rock bands in the world – Nickelback. Unless you count the 112 references made to the band by the magazine, mostly to report that according to Billboard that their current album is on the charts. Otherwise, one or more of your reporters has used the name Nickelback like the “F” word at a cotillion. I can just see their noses wrinkle in disgust or their eyes twinkling gleefully when they can equate the band with excrement.

For All The Right Reasons – Nickelback’s current CD has been on the charts for 71 weeks now, usually in the top 20, having sold over 6 million units. Since I’m not as educated about these things as your writers are, I think this is pretty damn good. Even though the band was snubbed by the A.D.D. afflicted Grammy committee, they did win a People’s Choice Award for Favorite Rock Band. I could go on for many pages about their being in the top grossing concerts for 2006, winning 3 American Music Awards, nominated for Juno’s, etc. But I feel that if I’m not concise, I’ll loose what minimal interest you may have.

I mentioned my ire at Entertainment Weekly on the message board of the aforementioned Fan Club and don’t you know that quite a few of the members were equally upset not only with EW but with ALL the popular entertainment “news” publications that haven’t had the decency to do a FULL ARTICLE ON NICKELBACK! I didn’t buy all those CD’s myself. No, sir. NICKELBACK HAS OTHER FANS! Fans that are not afraid to say they are fans. Fans that like me actually will wear a Nickelback shirt out in public. Fans that have no fear to blast Nickelback music in their cars and sing along. Fans that will proudly show you iPods full of Nickelback music. Fans that just love Nickelback and want to see them in living color pictured in a mass-market magazine interviewed by a intelligent, insightful reporter.

Think y’all could manage that sometime soon? To paraphrase Arlo Guthrie:

And three people do it, three, can you imagine, three people walking insingin a bar of "Someday" and walking out. They may think it's anorganization. And can you, can you imagine fifty people a day,I saidfifty people a day walking in singin a bar of "Someday" andwalking out. And friends they may thinks it's a movement.

I think I may have started a “movement.”


See, I told you I was crazy!

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

From now on call me ...

The Ministry of Silly Walks was closed today so instead, I found this over at Sorrow11's blog. It so suits me.

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is:
Entirely Miss Reverend Lady Nitebyrd the Fifteenth of Molton St Anywhere
Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title


That's right. I'm workin' that Domme thing, baby!

Sunday, March 9, 2008

Career change?

Last week I was having coffee with a new friend. We were talking about gas prices, butt plugs, why Starbucks uses such stupid names for small, medium and large, sex parties – you know, the usual “girl talk.” I mentioned that I was curious as to why so many men wanted to be dominated. The discussion then turned to the possibility of me becoming a professional Dominatrix.

As I may have mentioned before, I hate (really HATE) going to work every freakin’ day. I’m bored, I’m pissy, people in general annoy me, so basically I don’t really play well with others. I enjoy running with scissors but that’s another story. I took a little peek into my id and thought I just might make a right fine Domme.

After I got home, I zipped over to to see if they had “Dominance for Dummies.” Of the 3,686 “for Dummies” books, there wasn’t one for how to become a Dominatrix. Imagine! I pressed on and ordered three promising looking tomes: The Art of Sensual Female Dominance, Mistress Manual and The Sexually Dominant Woman. They haven’t arrived yet but my lovely suede flogger has. Here, have a look at it. I also have purchased, prior to the Domme thoughts, a soft, luscious leather corset. It laces up the back. Extremely sexy and very Goth. In addition to the corset, I’ve gotten a short leather skirt, leather bra and leather dress. Now don’t get all PETA on me. The sheep were already dead; I didn’t order them custom or anything. I could never, ever hurt an animal. Animals don’t have the power of free will or cognitive thought. Cats come very close, though. The question is – could I hurt and/or humiliate a human being? Specifically a man?

Fantasy is one thing and I can enjoy the hell out of hurting and humiliating several men in my mind. Flogging them until they cry. Maliciously running a Wartenburg wheel over their balls. Making them crawl to sit at my feet like a dog. Yeah, in my mind, I can get off on it. Big time. But … what about real life? I do have major pent up anger. Like I said before, I’m usually pissed-off about something all the time. So I guess that taking out some of that aggression on a willing participant could be a great tension reliever. Yeah. I believe I could be a good Domme. Start-up costs could be very high. I’ve checked out some BDSM sites. I might be able to use left-over Vise-Grips from DAC’s shop as nipple clamps and possibly an oil can spout as an evil butt plug to save money until I start getting paid. I’m wondering how much I should charge. Should I write of a menu of services do you think?

My friend, even though a new friend, seemed to think I could be a fabulous Dominatrix. I wonder what she saw in me that made her think that. I was being very nice that day. However I guess wickedness just seeps out. If after reading and doing additional research if I decide to press forward with the whole Domme thing, I’ll let y’all know. It might be fun to be able to write the 3,687 “Dummies” book. So, if you see my “Psycho Bunny” avatar holding a flogger instead of a knife and wearing wee fishnets, you’ll know I’ve made up my mind.

On a different note, I'd like to thank Casdok (Mother of Shrek) for this blogging award:

I was also given an award by DJ Kirkby:

I'm very proud of and touched to be given awards by such amazing bloggers. Thank you, both.

By reading Casdok and DJ's blogs, I've learned about Autism. I of course, had a passing knowledge of the disability but did not know the laughter and tears that come with having an Autistic child. These awesome women bring both those things to the forefront with sensitivity and humor. I admire them both very much. I hate using the word "disability" when writing about their children because Casdok and DJ never portray their kids as disabled. They both enable N3S and C to have the best they can possibly give. In return, I think they are given gifts most of us will never receive.

For DJ and Casdok, their kids and families and for all who might have or know an Autistic child, I urge you to visit this site: WHAT KIND OF WORLD DO YOU WANT?

The band FIVE FOR FIGHTING has set up the site to donate money to 5 different charities. One is AUTISM SPEAKS . So, go to the What Kind of World Do You Want? site, hear some great music and very painlessly donate to Autism Speaks and the other four charities. It's a good thing. No, it's a GREAT thing.

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Three Days Grace

Me and the X are going to see these guys tonight. I ADORE them. So young, so hot, so talented! I just loves me some rock & roll. WOOHOO!

Monday, March 3, 2008

Live Lizard Birth!

Thank you, Hillary for letting me know the origin of this piece. It's unfortunate that sometimes (most times?) the internet is like the old game "Telephone."

The author of this is a very funny writer, Bruce Cameron. You can find out more about him
HERE and read the original piece HERE. He also is the author of another absolutely hysterical column that is circulating on the 'net - The Chili Judge.

Okay, gang - I know y'all are chomping at the bit for more of my sexual escapades but I just got this and damn near peed myself I was laughing so hard. I'm actually working on another "real" blog but for the time being, I hope you enjoy this as much as I did.

lizard sex

If you have raised kids (or been one), and gone through the pet syndrome, including toilet flush burials for dead goldfish, the story below will have you laughing out LOUD!

Overview: I had to take my son's lizard to the vet. Here's what happened:

Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was 'something wrong' with one of the two lizards he holds prisoner in his room. 'He's just lying there looking sick,' he told me. 'I'm serious, Dad. Can you help?' I put my best lizard-healer expression on my face and followed him into his bedroom. One of the little lizards was indeed lying on his back, looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do.

'Honey,' I called, 'come look at the lizard!' 'Oh, my gosh!' my wife exclaimed. 'She's having babies.' 'What?' my son demanded. 'But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!' I was equally outraged. 'Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn't want them to reproduce,' I said accusingly to my wife. 'Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?' she inquired (I think she actually said this sarcastically)! 'No, but you were supposed to get two boys!' I reminded her, (in my most loving, calm, sweet voice, while gritting my teeth). 'Yeah, Bert and Ernie!' my son agreed. 'Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys, you know,' she informed me. (Again with the sarcasm). By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I shrugged, deciding to make the best of it. 'Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience,' I announced. 'We're about to witness the miracle of birth..' 'Oh, gross!' they shrieked. 'Well, isn't THAT just great? What are we going to do with a litter of tiny little lizard babies?' my wife wanted to know. We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later. 'We don't appear to be making much progress,' I noted. 'It's breech,' my wife whispered, horrified. 'Do something, Dad!' my son urged. 'Okay, okay.' Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it next appeared, giving it a gentle tug. It disappeared. I tried several more times with the same results. 'Should I call 911?' my eldest daughter wanted to know 'Maybe they could talk us through the trauma.' (You see a pattern here with the females in my house) ? 'Let's get Ernie to the vet,' I said grimly. We drove to the vet with my son holding the cage in his lap. 'Breathe, Ernie, breathe,' he urged. 'I don't think lizards do Lamaze,' his mother noted to him. (Women can be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing, but this boy is of her womb, for God's sake. ). The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little animal through a magnifying glass. 'What do you think, Doc, a C-section?' I suggested scientifically. 'Oh, very interesting,' he murmured. 'Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, may I speak to you privately for a moment?' I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside. 'Is Ernie going to be okay?' my wife asked. 'Oh, perfectly,' the vet assured us. 'This lizard is not in labor.. In fact, that isn't EVER going to happen. Ernie is a boy. You see, Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they come into maturity, like most male species, they um . . um . . masturbate. Just the way he did, lying on his back.' He blushed, glancing at my wife. We were silent, absorbing this. 'So, Ernie's just . just . . excited,' my wife offered. 'Exactly,' the vet replied , relieved that we understood. More silence. Then my vicious, cruel wife started to giggle . And giggle. And then even laugh loudly. 'What's so funny?' I demanded, knowing, but not believing that the woman I married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless manliness. Tears were now running down her face. 'It's just .that . . I'm picturing you pulling on its . . . its. . teeny little . . ' She gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more. 'That's enough,' I warned. We thanked the vet and hurriedly bundled the lizard and our son back into the car.. He was glad everything was going to be okay. 'I know Ernie's really thankful for what you did, Dad,' he told me. 'Oh, you have NO idea,' my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.
Two lizards: $140. One cage: $50. Trip to the vet: $30.

Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard's winkie: Priceless!

Moral of the story: Pay attention in biology class. Lizards lay eggs!