Blowing your load over people with pretty skin?

I have this theory and I guess it is some what based on a bias but I think that Tattooed people are just prettier. Easy as that. I think anyone that has been following my blog would know that I am starting to errrr on the side of moderately tattooed (I guess its depends on who you asked) much to my nans disgust. 

I got my first tattoo at the ripe old age of 18, my first boyfriend had been getting tattooed and I was so impressed with what was going on that I decided that I wanted one as well. I remember my first tattoo was an ordeal, every little point of it, from the hand picked design (from the Flash Wall) to where it was going and when I was going to get it done. I picked my design and had it in my car for 2 weeks looking at it every day to make sure it was what I wanted and that I would be able to live with it forever. I finally settled on the "Sex Dragon" (I had the tattoo for 8 years before a friend of mine realised that the junction between its tail and its wings read as SEX. Awkward) to go on my highly original lower back. I remember thinking how hardcore I was because it was huge, I laugh now thinking about what the me then would think about the me now. I got an additional 5 small ones over the course of the next year and considered myself to be heavily tattooed (again I laugh at this notion). But for me the best (or the worst considering who you ask) was yet to come. 

Sex anyone?

My tattooing stopped until I was 26 when I decided that I would like to get a new one, something small and subtle and not to obvious that I could hide. I settled on an Audrey Kawasaki Design for my inner wrist  and remember feeling concerned about work as I now had a visible tattoo. I met the Army Brat a few months later and fell in love with the art thoroughly again and there was no turning back. It was with each new tattooed that I pushed my boundaries a little bit further, got more and more visible skin inked and finally topped it all off with a full back job. I am now of the opinion that I have gone this far so I may as well keep going (Sorry Daddy, but you know this anyway).

I am not sure if its just me or if this happens to most heavily tattooed people but every where I go people want to talk to me, either to play show and tell or inform me on the wrong decisions I have made in my life by getting tattooed. Here are a few of my favourite stories 

- Every Tuesday a little old man and his wife go shopping at Vic Park Coles where I used to go to get my lunch and every Tuesday the little old man felt the need to leave his wife's side to come and tell me what a disgrace I was and that I should be ashamed of what I had done to my skin. I always smiled politely, thanked him for his opinion and wished him a lovely day (this happened for about 5 weeks in a row)

- After getting my Ditch (the crook of your arm) done I went to Maccas to get myself some important after tattooing food and while getting served the girl at the counter took in my now soggy bleedy glad wrapped arm and decided that she would like to share her tattoos with me. This is an extract from that conversation "Oh that's an interesting place for a tattoo. I have three and they are all in unique places as well. One is on my ankle, one is on the inside of my wrist and one is on the back of my neck. We have so much in common". As you can imagine in my head I was screaming "SHUT UP AND GIVE ME MY FUCKING BURGER BITCH!!!!" but on the outside again I smiled politely to her 

- People feel like they have the right to touch you when you are tattooed, I was out one evening with my friends in a low back dress when a lady in her 40s came up to me and pulled the back of my dress down without asking me. I was shocked and taken back and spun  around and looked at her and her response was "I just wanted to have a look, clearly you wouldn't have got it if you didn't want people to look".  Here is a little hint for people, if you want to look, ask. Most of the time I (or other tattooed people) will be happy to show you. I should also maybe put this as a warning, The next person to try and undress me when I am out is going to cop it, I shall rip their shirt off and run around brandishing it over my head like a Trophy. After all what's good for the goose is indeed good for the Gander

In reality its not all bad though, people are more likely to come and talk to you and be your friend if you are tattooed because they have an easy conversation starter (I met a super cool chic  called Carmen on St Paddys day at the pub because of my peacock) and now days they are getting more common so its not so taboo. Sometimes I wonder if people only try and hook up with me because of my tattoos though, sometimes it bothers me and then sometimes it makes me go "Oh well, if they look past the tattoos my personality is pretty amazing as well" and all is right with my world again. Or is it? 

I met a young lad called David (I am not even going to try and hide his identity) out at a drinking establishment one fine evening, he was 23 and from Melbourne. We got chatting, he convinced me to steal the bottle opener from behind the bar and then he bought me a beer. This kid was on a winner. He was very tall and very good looking and we got along famously and if by coincidence he happened to be staying on the street behind my house so we decided to share a cab home. I am sure you can see where this story is going so I will spare you the gruesome details and say only that we got "intimate". I am a firm believer that the first one is always a freebie, so when he managed to uncap his load after 1 minutes without fore play (and I say this without a word of a lie) I just laughed it off and said it was ok. Well you can imagine my shock when it happened TWICE more within the space of an hour. I hear you ask what this has to do with tattoos, well it was his excuse (yes you read that right). After the third time I looked at him incredulously and raised an eyebrow, to which he meekly replied "Your tattoos made me so turned on that I couldn't control myself". As you can imagine he retrieved his pants and made a hasty exit. But this got me to thinking, are tattoos really that much of a turn on?

I made it my some what joking mission at the start of the year to sleep with someone that was more tattooed than myself to test this theory. Don't tutt about how whoreish and shallow that is, everyone needs to have ambitions. I would like to take this moment to bask in my glory and announce proudly to the world that  I, Miss K achieved this goal early on in the year (its good to knock your goals off early so you can put your feet up and relax). Let me set the scene for you, Easter Weekend, Local Pub, Pints of Cider and something to prove. 

How could he not want this?

I was sitting down with my friends on a lovely chesterfield couch getting comfortable with my cider and drinking in the Ambiance of the venue when in strolled a Good Looking Blonde lad and his trusty side kick. He was everything that turns me on, he was wearing a hat, covered in tattoos and drinking beer. I couldn't fail!!!! When I saw him step outside for a smoke I saw my opportunity and I pounced. I cant remember what my line was but I am sure it was terrible (I think it was something about child hood somethings). I ended up spending the whole evening chatting to him and his mate and as the pub was closing up he asked if I wanted to head back to his house for some more drinks,  I obliged and what followed was a few months of hanging out and catching up.

I have to admit that during this time I got a slight glimpse at what Old Mate David might have been feeling when he looked at my naked colourful skin. When I was with Mr Tattoo I couldn't take my eyes off him, I caught myself trailing my fingers over him without realising it and if he had his shirt off, well goodness me. I was wowed by him and his beautiful skin and I'm not even ashamed to admit it. I guess I was lucky to have found a tattooed one that actually has a nice personality. It shows that not even the tattooed are immune to swooning over the more tattooed. 

With every tattoo that I get I feel more confident and more beautiful. The colour that I feel inside my body is now on the outside. I look at photos of myself before tattoos and I think I look strange and incomplete. It does sneak up on me though sometimes, while standing in a Myer changing room, I looked at myself in the mirror and went "Wow, when did that happen" and just smiled because its something I created.


So do yourself a favour, hook up with a tattooed person. It will be amazing... guaranteed 


Love and Ink 


Miss K 

She wasn't crazy. Until I stuck my dick in her

Its the way it is isn't it, you meet a girl, you start seeing her and everything is cool. She is an awesome girl, down to earth, fun to be around but then she changes. You break up and a whole heap of crazy spews out from her that you didn't even know about before. Where does this crazy come from? Is it something that lays dormant in a lady until she is scorned? Does her Medusa hair spew forth from her head when she realises she is alone? What is this phenomenon? Over the last few days I have been sitting here wondering if I have in fact become that Crazy.

She gonna fuck you up 

I was chatting with a friend recently and he was convinced that he was the reason that girls went crazy and on musing this fact with some mates they all agreed. It seems that the minute you stick your dick into them you unlock something that you never knew existed before, below are some of the examples of crazy that my friends have shared with me 

- A 19 year old friend was seeing a 21 year old girl who very early in the relationship asked him to give her a baby so that she "could be friends with it"

- A girl gave her new puppy a name one letter different from a friends last name because she was that obsessed with him, apparently her boobs were so big that they were actually a waste. I know who actually thought that could happen

- Writing "love" in Menstrual Blood across her chest when he left the room after the first time they had intimate relations 

- Calling him 50 times and then calling all his friends because he didn't answer because he was busy - major rage face here

Yep, that girl needed it

These are extreme examples but crazy comes in many forms, from calling or texting constantly, stalking his crack book and blowing up at any interaction from other girls or stopping him from going out and hanging out with his friends. Whats with that? Possibly girls get out of it easily because nothing as bad as that has happened to me before but maybe that's because I don't really even get the chance to break up with guys maybe? 

I hate that crazy feeling, its like you know that what you are thinking is stupid, irrational and wrong but you cant stop yourself from going down that path. I'm a very smart girl, I have many leather bound book but I will admit right now that when a guy breaks up with me the crazy starts to dribble out (or gush as is sometimes the case). In my head every time he goes out he is hooking up with 50 women, all of them curvy Brunette superstars that look and fuck like Gianna, but probably in real life he may not even be talking to a single girl. I know that he doesn't want me but I'd like for him to not want anyone either. 

In my head this is whats going on with every girl he meets

So why is it that we get this way, do they literally pour the crazy into us? Before them we were level headed and capable of rational decision making. I'm going to put it down to jealousy or possibly sperm poisoning. I guess I am one of the lucky ones because I am able to keep my crazy inside my head for the most part and it very rarely shoots out to hit the person that its aimed at (because its OK to be crazy but you don't want people to realise that you are... if you understand) and for me it only happens on the rare occasion when I actually have loved someone, so possibly being a heartless bitch and not getting attached to people easily may have its advantages

Guys just need to get it, if a girl likes you, she likes everything about you and you are everything that she wants, its then inconceivable to her that every other girl in the world cant see that as well. So maybe having a girl that you've fucked the crazy into, be crazy, could be some what of a compliment because to her you really are the bees knees. And a message to the girl, try and dial it down a bit hey. We know you like him, we get that, but if he doesn't like you turning into the crazy certainly isn't going to make him stick around. 

Before writing this blog I texted the guy who was convinced that he was the reason for the crazy to tell him that I was going to write about his theory and his response was "its my eyes and maybe my penis, a lil, that sends them crazy". Well I give the kid one thing, at least he has a sense of humour about it. 

Yep its all in the Green Eyes

Mr Sentry said it correctly "You are fucking insane, and I don't mean that in a good way. Bye Bye" so really at the end of the day, you need to weigh it up, crazy is a double edged sword, and when it out weighs the good you know its time to get the fuck out of Dodge 

Love and Twitches 

Miss K 

Plastic Fantastic? You Fcking Bet Ya!!!!!!!

I saw the most amusing text yesterday, it went something along the lines of  "Going to see a man about a dog, and by man I mean plastic surgeon about two new puppies" and I pretty much lost my shit. Is this not the best written text in the history of, well, forever? I am going to put this here from the outset, I am the largest supporter of plastic surgery. It enables someone to make themselves feel like they do on the inside and thats a pretty awesome thing. It got me to thinking if I was going to get something done, what would it be? 

I am sitting here at the moment in a dirty hoody (my pasta sauce exploded and my hoody rotation is now down to one) and leggings and my self esteem is at a record low but I guess I have been pretty lucky as normally I am generally pretty confident in myself and what my mumma gave me (this saying though I find to be stupid but I was at a loss as to what else I could write to convey my point, but I digress).  Saying that though even I have down times and in those down times it has made me come up with these ideas 

Eye Surgery

I dont know if this exists but if it does, I am pretty sure that I would jump on board. My eyes have long been the source of self hatred and I think this stems from a tough child hood of my sister calling me feret and saying she could blind fold me with a piece of string. Or it could possibly have been from my mum telling me that she asked the doctor what was wrong with my eyes when I was born. These two things mixed together are enough to give anyone a complex about their slanty little eyes. 

See Squinty

I wear glasses and have since I was a young child and this never really bothered me, and now days glasses are actually cool, you can see that by people wearing just frames without the lenses to try and be up to date with the latest fashion trend.  Its the size of them thats the problem (its always the size isnt it?). Maybe I could get surgery to get Anime eyes, all big and doe like? I'm sure thats a thing. 

Over the years though I guess I have come to get used to my eyes, they have been vaguely staring back at me for the last 29 years, and people have actually started telling me that I have nice eyes, and here was me thinking that the only thing I had going for me was my killer rack... which leads me into my next point 

I'm ready for my close up

Boob Job

Now dont get me wrong I am pretty darn pleased with the tits that I have, I have been referred to as Porno Tits in the past and every time I take my bra off even I gasp in appreciation at what I got going on. I have managed to hit 29 without any sag but I know that the day is going to come when they arent where they were and have decided the minute that they head south I am going to go in and get that shit sorted out. While I am in there why not get them pumped up (Pumped up Tits? thats a song right?), I would love boobs so big that I could rest my dinner on them like a stable table or use them as my own pillow. Honestly whats not to love about that idea?

Boobs.... just imagine these bigger for a pillow. YESSSS!!!!!

Finger Shortening?

This one is coming from left field I know and its probably not possible but I would like to have smaller hands. Over the years I have managed to develop a complex over the gigantic mits that I have been lumbered with. Lets take a walk down memory lane to when I was 18, I was dating a young lad called Cameron. One fine day after a rather large night out we were cuddling on his couch holding hands and drinking Choc Milk (I would like to make a side note here, I dont even like Choc Milk, what was I thinking?) when he remarked "Oh my god, your have the biggest hands" and on comparing my hands to his, I realised that he was correct. The next day he broke up with me, and in my head these two things have always been related. 

Fast forward a few years to meeting a guy at a pub who was exceptionally tall (around about the 6'5ish mark) and being the cheeky little thing that I am, I started bombarding his senses with my flirting abilities. He was smitten and hooked (and honestly why wouldnt he be, see above for one reason to be enamoured), that was until I held up my hand to playfully swat him for a cheeky comment that he had made. A look of horror passed over his delightful features as he gasped "Your hands are huge" and on holding his hand up against mine, my hands were larger. Either he had tiny little hands or my fear of giant man hands was actually realised. If my hands are more giant that a giant mans, really how giant are they? Couple this with the fact that I am unable to find ladies gloves that provide me with enough finger length and I once got told that with hands this big I would make any guys dick looks small (I believe this has something to do with the reason that I am still single) something needs to change.  So if anyone has any solutions please let me know, but until then I will sit on my hands and try not to breath to loud (funnily enough this is the same advise that I was given when I was going to have a lap dance)

Giant Hands make working on cars difficult

So really if this is all that I want to fix, I dont really have much to complain about, there are always going to be the issues that all girls have like thinner thighs and a flatter stomach but even I know the way to get that and its a lot easier and cheaper than surgery. To anyone that is thinking they would like surgery, I say Go for it!!! At the end of the day, if you look good, you feel good and everyone wants to be around happy people. If you are able to get yourself to a point in life where your outside feels like your insides then you know you have done something right.

To anyone that feels the need to judge people who choose to go under the knife, I ask you to pull your head in. You probably dont know what that person was feeling inside and everyone deserves to be happy with themselves. Arent we all guilty of doing something out of "Vanity"? I will be the first to admit that I get my nails done and put on make up, really its all the same. As the infomercial for control top panties just told me "Why grin and bear it when you can smile and wear it?"

I love every plastic little thing about this Lady 

Love and Confidence 

Miss K 

It really is a marvel

Sex... Its not what they say (a take on 50 Shades)

Unless you have been living under a rock I am sure you have heard about a little book called 50 Shades of Grey, yep its that book that is getting ladies panties wet all over the country. Now is the time to admit that yeah I have read it, I am a reader and I jump on board the "latest" thing because surely if that many people were raving about it then it must be literary genius, or so you would think. Let me tell you what this book is, its literary porn (and not porn in the sense of something being awesome ie/ that car is porn), hard core unadulterated smut. This has got me thinking, how realistic is a book like this and what kind of disappointment is it setting women up for? 

Here is a quick run down of the book, a man meets a girl who blushes a lot, decides that he would like to take her as his sex slave submissive, she is a virgin, he deflowers her, they break up, get back together and he changes his ways for her and while all of this is going on they have raunchy raunchy sex that ends in them simultaneously shouting each others names as they have their bone shattering releases together. I would like to call Bullshit on this and say that it is some what unrealistic. I have had sex with "X" amount of people (yes X is a number but I didn't pay much attention in Algebra so cant really remember how to figure out the value of X) and I am yet to meet a guy who can 1. Make me climax every time (or at all in some cases) and 2. one that screams my name while pouring himself into me, he isnt a little teapot for fucks sake!! who the fuck pours themself out?? Though this could just be me and I am in fact having sex with the wrong men.

Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't mind being like Ana (the girl) pretty much all Christian (The guy) has to do is look at her or flex a ruler her way and she blows her load all over the shop, heck my hand would cramp up a lot less if this was the way things actually worked, but see I know that this isn't actually the way that things are. What if a virgin was to read these books, she would think that an orgasm was as easy to get as a root in a brothel, wouldnt it cause her some anxiety when she couldn't orgasm on command?  

I lost my virginity at the age of 17 and 8 months, to a tall red headed fellow that made things special for me, but it was still awkward and I did ask the question that a girl should never ask, "Is it in yet?" (for the record it was but I wasn't sure what the sensation was supposed to feel like so I had to ask the question, don't judge me ok) but first time sex should always be awkward, its kinda a right of passage. The sex was great (well I didn't have anything to compare it to at the time but looking back now it was actually up there in the top of the ranks) but it wasn't until I was 23 that I actually achieved the big "O" and that was done under my own hand and it wasn't until much much later in life that I actually managed it under someone elses hand. But that didn't mean that the rest of the experiences weren't enjoyable. A book like this puts so much emphasis on the end result that the romance and the connection gets lost along the way and for me that's where the importance lays (this may come as a surprise to some of you as it goes against my perceived whoreish ways but its actually true, mostly). 

Lets look at this from another perspective, think about the pressure that this book is putting onto the men, their women folk read these books, get their engines revved up and are left wanting by the perceived sub par performance. Sure the guy will probably be happy because he will be getting laid more while the Sheila is reading the book but at what cost? I can imagine a fair few women going "Why cant you be more like Christian Grey!!!" (heck I am just happy to get laid so I wouldn't be doing any comparisons)

This book and its mass following has also got me thinking about the women that get so caught up in it, the  Male Protagonist is a fucked up, controlling, masochistic arsehole, why would anyone want that? His character is much the same as Edward in Twilight and I was not the biggest fan of him either because of his controlling nature. I like my men to give me space, lavish me with love when I want it and let me have my own opinion. Is that to much to ask? I don't get girls that go weak at the knees over the thought of a guy like Edward Cullen or Christian Grey, have womens rights and the burning of the bra taught you ladies anything?

So to books like 50 Shades of Grey I say, stop trying to hide your sex behind a story that no one really cares about, proclaim yourself for what you are, a dirty fuck fest. And to the women out there, don't be ashamed of wanting to get sexed up, its totally fine, but my suggestion is get on redtube.com, its free and a 3 minute video sure as hell gets me off a lot quicker than a 300 page book does. 

Love and Smut 

Miss K 

The 'Burn - I'm feeling it

So I am here, sitting in a trendy Café on a trendy Melbourne Street listening to Lana Del Rays soulful voice sipping on my coffee and thinking to myself, How the Hell did I get here? Its day 4 in the 'Burn and here are my observations so far

This is from the Illy Cafe at the end of my Road. A-MAZING Breakfast Stack

Garrish woollen knitted jumpers – they are all the rage, doesn’t matter if you are male or female EVERYONE is wearing them, probably the more oversized the better

No Shit I think this guy walked past me before

Pants Don’t Fit – This one mainly goes for guys but I have noticed a distinct lack of tailoring in bottom coverings, the legs are too short, the bottoms to big and as a whole they are all wayyyyyy to tight. Where do the "men" go in this situation?

Do you own a brush? – the messy just sexed look is clearly the in thing, don’t get me wrong, I don’t actually brush my hair either but atleast I try to pull it into some semblance of order. It is windy here, maybe that’s the reason, but you would think that when you go inside you would try and fix it up? Maybe?

Its Cold -  yes I know you are going to say, no shit Sherlock but I don’t think you actually understand what I mean when I say its cold. This cold gets into your bones and makes you hold off until the last second to get up and run downstairs to use the toilet which is a dangerous think when you are about to wet yourself and you have no co-ordination

Not Trendy Enough – I don’t think I am trendy enough looking to be able to intergrate myself into society here successfully, I don’t wear enough dull colours, have enough ill fitting beanies or have a hipster hair cut (which I refuse to do, I may eventually cave to the other elements but the hair stays long and beautiful)

Actually... I could actually fit in....

If your dad doesn’t have a beard you have two mums – well there is little chance of that here, every man and his dog has a beard, this is one thing that I am enjoying. I don’t think it is any secret that I am a fan of the beard, I like to stroke them, nothing suss

Cant tell if gay, or just metro – maybe it’s the hormones in the chicken but men these days (or men here) always make me question if they like my bits or not. This at the moment is really a moot point because I am taking myself off the market and I am all about loving everyone, but how do single girls living here figure out who is available for the picking.

Your doorstep, Im on it – EVERYTHING is close to my house, there is a church and a pub at the end of my street, a Café or eatery every 10 metres and Safeway (That’s Victorian Woolies) is a 5 minute stroll away with my Nana trolley. There are 4, that’s right FOUR!!! Bike stores within easy strolling distance from my front door

I haven’t seen as many fixies as I was anticipating – I don’t know what I thought, maybe in my head no one walked and everyone instead road on their fixie bikes wearing their garish woollen jumpers and ill fitting beanies, well I was wrong on that premise and have only seen one fixie, and the guy was wheeling it on the street instead of riding it (my observation on his attire was 100% correct though).  Just as a side note I have seen the bike that I want and probably much to many of your disappointment its not a fixie. Its green and awesome and I am planning in my head all the modifications that I can do to it

Brunswick, for all your wedding needs – I kid you not, Victorians must love their weddings because every 3^rd shop on Sydney Road is a Bridal shop. Don’t like the dress in the first shop, that’s fine, just wander down two doors and they may have something that is more accommodating. Driving in the taxi from the Airport I remarked this to the taxi driver and he just laughed along with me (or at me, I am not really sure)

Submerged in Graff – Melbourne has been long known as the street art capital of the world and I have not been disappointed with what I have wandered across so far (I haven’t really been looking hard and haven’t really explored outside my own area yet). The colour explosion that fills every alley and back corner lights my heart and inspires me to undertake my own artist journeys.

N.B Whilst walking to this Café I wandered down a side street following the path of graff that was there and on rounding a corner saw a guy about my age tagging a bin (it was pretty ornate) he stopped what he was doing and hid his pen before he realised that I wasn’t a threat and pulled the pen out and continued his work again. I introduced myself and asked where the best places for me to go to look at graff would be and his response was “Anywhere” and on pressing him he was very off hand with his responses so I thanked him and went on my way a bit miffed at his reaction. I was just taking an interest, I guess the open can of Bundy next to his foot should have been an indication that he may not have been the one for me to try and make friends with.

Stencil from the end of my Road. I love Stencils

So how is it going? If I am 100% honest, its hard, much harder than I imagined.  I feel isolated and some what forgotten (this started before I left Perth, but I guess people shutting down and ignoring me is their way of dealing with the situation). I have had visitors over from Perth and as such haven’t actually had any time to explore by myself or actually get my head around the whole thing. I always tried to play it down in my head that it wasn’t actually a big deal as it was. But hey we all know the way that I am, throw me in the deep end and make me swim. This is the shit that I thrive on. At the end of this, if I fail then atleast I know that I gave it a try and I know that’s a lot more than what most people do. So for now, I am going to try, give it everything I've got and see where we stand when the dust settles

Love and Cable Knits

Miss K