Tag Archives: tmi

Pull My Hair

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There I was innocently doing some last minute research for a different post & I accidentally learned something about myself. The post was going to be a “science of sex” type post & I was searching for why it feels so good to have your hair pulled (the NSA agent they have assigned to me was VERY amused!). Anyway this whole post is a big old ball of TMI, so here goes.

Wandering around the manosphere, I come across posts about hair pulling a lot, but no one really has it figured out. They attribute it to dominance & the sexy sexy strength of a man (& yes, that is a major turn on), or pain equals pleasure, but it is much more than that.There are actual tingles involved & sometimes even goosebumps.

Say I come home from work & my husband grabs me for the 10 second kiss; he pins me against the doorjamb & slowly runs his fingers against the back of my neck to gently grab a handful of hair. The tingles start there & spread outward. It’s like they wash across me & run down my spine & I kind of get weak in the knees.

It’s like that weird sensation you get as someone pretends to break an egg on your head or the one when someone shampoos your hair. It’s like scratching your scalp when you are on speed (what, it was the 70s!) or a mild version of the sensation (we called them Little Girl Orgasms or LGOs) you get when on MDMA (what, it was legal in the 80s!).

There are a lot of nerve endings back there, but I think it is more than just that. I was searching to find the actual chemical mechanism behind the tingles & basically couldn’t find one. No one has done research on this, or if they have it’s completely obscure.

During my research, I found this: Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response (ASMR). There is an entire category of videos devoted to this response. I am mildly triggered by some of these videos & the sensation is similar to the sensation when my hair is pulled except the sensation is inside my head.

ASMR is triggered by light repetitive noises: paper crinkling, monotone droning, whispering, Bob Ross, etc. It is kind of a tingling that starts in your brain & washes down your spine, like little explosions & it is very relaxing. It’s funny because writing this is kind of making me feel all tingly 🙂

They say that not everyone gets this sensation, but I would be willing to bet that everyone has ASMR to a certain extent or it wouldn’t be so prevalent in the culture of love. Think about heavy breathing, blowing in her ear, whispering sweet nothings. These are all triggers for ASMR.

I also think that spanking stimulates the same response, especially light rhythmic spanking.  Not that that one loud hard swat isn’t pleasurable, but it elicits a different sensation. Of course, there are a lot of nerve endings in your gluteus maximus, like in the back of your neck, so I think that helps.

I mentioned this subject to my husband & his response was that it all harkens back to the cavemen dragging their women by the hair & their butts dragging the ground (lol!) & then he explains why they didn’t drag their women by the ankles; it’s because their pussy would fill up with dirt & gravel. *rimshot*

Whirlwind

craps

I have the bones of an epic post rattling around in my brain & while they are being polished, I thought I’d check in to update my suddenly crazy life. I mean, there I was, same ol’ same ol’, when my family planned an impromptu gambling junket. They do this often, well they usually don’t tell us about it, but they do go on gambling trips a lot. Sounds fun; nothing else going on.

It was fun. My bedtime is a strict 10pm & my sister had us out until 4:30 the first night. I was late to the hot Craps table, but my husband got a piece of the action & one of my sisters put a $25 chip under her $5 odds on Pass, so she totally raked it in about 5 times. I played a lot of Roulette & pretty much came out ahead.

What you do is you count every penny you have when you arrive & then you count what you have left. We were up for the whole trip, hotel & tipping & all until we filled up my sister’s car for the trip home. Then we were even. Oh, and that includes T-shirts.

Arriving home, I go to work the next day & I’m introduced to the auditors that were going to start an audit of the books that day. Yay, surprise audit! Accountants LOVE those! So the rest of that week & all the next were spent being grilled about numbers. On an up note, my books were in really good shape despite me only paying occasional attention to them. Like, I have a ton of work to do & here I am rambling on.

Right before we left to gamble, we made some plans to visit friends in California next month & then this week there was a spontaneous Manosphere trip to Vegas suggested & if you think I’m going to miss out on that, you are nuts. There’s also an annual reunion float trip squeezed in there somewhere. So, it’s going to be crazy.

In all of this I was asked if I would like to be a moderator for the RedPillWoman subreddit & of course I accepted, but I kind of suck at it because (warning: humblebrag ahead, haha) I’m too damn nice. There are an incredible amount of trolls. It’s funny because I have pretty much rid my life of caustic people & have been enjoying the peace & quiet following the purge & now I have all these trolls in my life, lol.

I hate to mess with the subreddit too much as far as the conversation goes, but I will go back & do cleanup work. Trolls come in a wide variety: there are the get in your face kind that get banned immediately, there are the sneaky ones that pretend to be a part of the group but keep loudly touting the blue pill message, & there are the stealth ones. The stealth ones go to the old posts & pepper them with trollishness. Those are the ones I’m working on. I remove offending comments, but I haven’t lowered the ban hammer yet.

The weird thing about the RedPillWoman subreddit is that there are so many hater sites feeding off of it. For instance this one article has both of these other subreddits either making fun or mad that we exist. I guess we are some sort of threat to their strong, fierce & successful independence that needs no man.

Anyway I have huge piles of work on my desk & three days in which to finish a ton of stuff. Plus I have this post simmering in me braiiin, making me think. It’ll be a good one, I promise.

Outcome Independence

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I know that this is a basic mindset used in picking up girls, but sometimes in married life you would be well off using outcome independence as a sexual tool. For instance, you don’t have to work up to a big sex session, which is incredible – don’t get me wrong, but maybe you just snuggle nude & see what happens. Maybe something happens; maybe not. Okay, something always happens 🙂

Outcome independence is: if both of you orgasm, Super Awesome; if only one of you has an orgasm, Great; if neither of you cums, it was still a helluva lot of fun!

OI means that if one or the other just isn’t really feeling it or is too stressed you can stop & there will be no hurt feelings on either side. OI means you can try again later. OI means you have sex often because you are often trying again later. OI means that there is no pressure if you just stick it in & move it around a little. I guarantee that if you practice OI, you will actually experience more orgasms.

I think that sometimes women’s hesitation in having sex is that maybe sex is usually a full-blown hours-long affair with pressure to orgasm, bodily juices squirting everywhere, messed up makeup & hair. I mean, that is fantastic & all, but maybe sometimes she just wants a fun little quickie. Maybe she just wants to do it & then go shopping or something. Maybe she doesn’t want to muss her hair.

OI is helpful as you get older, too. Sometimes things don’t work as well once you’re past your prime. Everyone has more aches & pains, it’s harder to move from position to position, that bursitis flares up… Pain is very deflating (heh!); you can be going at it, almost there, almost there, ouch leg cramp! It happens & may even be embarrassing occasionally, but if you practice OI you just pick it up a little bit later. Eventually the job gets done.

Or say you’re contemplating wild drunken monkey sex. I can rarely cum after drinking; does that mean wild drunken monkey sex isn’t fun? Hell no, it is an incredible amount of fun! An incredible amount of orgasmless, spoogeless fun! Do it anyway, take some cranberry gelcaps to ward off the inevitable whiskey-dick UTI, & then sleep like a rock.

When he wakes up with an onerous boner, you may think that your impromptu blowjob won’t result in a payload because of a full bladder, but do it anyway. So what if there is no payload? It will still be appreciated & then it’s fun to watch him try to pee standing 4 feet away from the toilet, trying to get the perfect arc going!

Tl;dr: Have a bunch of sex really often & don’t worry about the end result. The end result will take care of itself.

Stress, Inflammation, Insomnia & the Antidote

young woman awaking up early in the morning

The never-ending saga of the phones is hopefully over. After talking to a fellow that had the same thing happen to him (T-Mobile giving away his phone number), and hearing about how six weeks after he gave up on getting his number back, T-Mobile gave it back (this was his roofing business phone – totally screwed him over), we finally went into Walmart & told them we wanted to return the SIM card & discontinue service. After that was done, we bought more SIM cards & got new numbers – no porting of old numbers.

The new laptop we bought seems to be working fine, but our other three computers are on their last legs. The old desktop, which we used for personal stuff – no surfing the interwebs – just getting on to the bank & brokerage account & downloading phones & cameras, is just barely hobbling along. We are going to go get another $300 laptop just for that & maybe a third one, or maybe we will wait until the other two laptops die completely. Then we will take them out & shoot them.

It has been pretty stressful, not just the phone & computer sagas, but some family drama & even the friendly little dive bars are stressful. Every one of our little dive bars have replaced the efficient bartenders with huge slovenly bartenders with their noses stuck firmly in their phones. Every one of them. It is a battle to get a beer, the bar is always filthy, and the new bartenders have already run off all the regulars. I haven’t found out where all the regulars went, yet.

My foray into local craft beer isn’t going well, either; both my husband & I immediately gained five pounds. I am super puffy & have terrible inflammation, complete with joint pain, tinnitus, restless everything syndrome, etc. I’ve also been in a foul mood & it ain’t pretty. I think the beer is giving me back all the symptoms I got rid of when I gave up wheat. Actually, it was a lot like my symptoms when I went on the ill-fated potato diet. Ouch. No more.

I went to bed early last night because I didn’t get much sleep the night before, and I woke up at about 2am. Everything hurt. Everything still hurts. I took an Aleve & a magnesium & tried to get back to sleep, to no avail. Every once in a while I would get that drowsy, almost asleep feeling & I would get so excited at the prospect of sleep that it would wake me up. Every time I turned over, every joint in my body would pop or creak.

Evidently my husband wasn’t sleeping either, or I was waking him up, but he started rubbing my shoulders & back & that helped a lot. Then he started rubbing other things. Then he made sure I needed a shower, ending right as my alarm went off & he sent me on my way to work tired but happy, with a huge grin on my face. Damn, we should have done that at 2am!

Bitch & Moan & Grumble & Groan (Part 1)

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Yeah, yeah, I have nothing to say, but I do have plenty to bitch about. Maybe if I bitch enough here I won’t bitch as much IRL (haha, I’ll let you know how that works). It all started a month ago when I unfortunately decided to go on a Potato Diet because I had 10 pounds that would be really fun to lose. Didn’t really NEED to lose, because I looked pretty awesome, but wouldn’t it be fun to be ultra-skinny for the holidaze?

For 3 days I (& my poor dear abused husband) ate pretty much nothing but potatoes & maybe some coconut oil. It was pretty tasty; I was surprised on the 3rd day when potatoes still tasted really good. There was no weight loss for me or mine even though others on the diet were shedding a few pounds per day. Fuck. The morning of the 4th day I blew my nose & it was bloody as hell. Fuck.

I felt like absolute crap. Body aches, tinnitus, ocular migraine, everything hurt, bad. I felt terrible for a couple of days & I kept trying to catch a cold or flu or something. I felt marginally awful for a couple of weeks & then I started my period. Fuck. I WAS in the middle of menopause. Like 6 months into not ever having a period again. Nope, all down the drain & starting over from scratch. Fuck. Doubly disturbing since we had been using menopause as birth control. Yikes.

That period continued to fire-hose blood out of my twat at an incredible rate (tampons plus pads changed almost hourly) for another 15 days. I had noticed white spots on my fingernails a few days ago, but didn’t really think anything about it until I was googling how to stop the incessant bleeding & was told that I needed to use progesterone cream. I googled foods high in progesterone & found that zinc is the main facilitator of progesterone (or something like that).

Aw, shit, my fingernails (that not only had white spots but were also shredding at an alarming rate) told me that a couple of days before. So I started taking a 75mg zinc in the morning & evening & the blood flow stopped almost immediately. Well, not stopped, but hugely reduced. A couple more days of almost normal period & I started taking zinc 3 times a day & now am NOT BLEEDING!!!!!!! Thank Fucking God! I’m totally going to have some awesome sex this weekend to make up for lost time.

Don’t get me wrong, I had some bloody sex, but it just isn’t the same. I even gave a nice blow job to my long-suffering husband who doesn’t ever get them (poor thing). And there was sex, but it is a lot different when you have to put the thick burgundy terrycloth floor-mat down & hope you don’t bleed through it before the deed is done.

The Potato Diet didn’t just disturb my reproductive organs, it disturbed my whole physical existence. My whole metabolism. My poor nose. When I figured out that I had a zinc deficiency, I realized that it was due to a copper toxicity. I don’t really know what that means, but I have every symptom of both combined with feeling lousy and the holidaze & drinking too much & eating weird foods & I fucking gained 10 pounds. I’m the heaviest I’ve ever been in my life.

So, now instead of losing 10 pounds that I looked fine having, I am a huge fat blubbery pig. And I feel like crap. The saga continues…