Wednesday 25 March 2015

The 10 Commandments of Fellatio

Its come to light that I have lived my whole adult fellating life as a lie. I used to secretly (or not so) commend myself in the art of the gobbie. I was modest about it though, like I knew I probably wasn't the best in the world but I was still pretty great and I thought that it was my one marketable transferable skill. That was until two weeks ago when an event happened that changed the course of history. 

So there was this guy see, a guy I have had my eye on for a while and shits been building between us, you could call it tension I guess, well finally the big moment had arrived. We disrobed and there was some of that amazing kissing (you know the kind, when your whole body leans into it and he has his hand holding your head. Romance novel type shit) and I'm not going to lie I was excited to acquaint myself to his smaller self (in no way am I meaning it was small, it was in proportion and attractive - as far as penis' go that it), and maybe I was a bit enthusiastic but still what happened next was out of the blue. For the first time in my life a guy pulled away from me and told me stop. Queue that sad soul destroying back ground music because at that moment that was the sound track to my life. Here was me thinking that I was good at something that in reality I had no idea about. 

Whilst nursing the heart ache and disappointment I went out to the masses in the context of #science to get to the bottom of my down fall and to find out how to better myself to better please the next suitor who may come along. So ladies, if you are like me and seemingly clueless in the art of fellatio please take these 10 commandments into consideration 

Thou Shalt engage in eye contact.  

Thou Shalt not forget to involve the testicles - a testicles best friend is the tongue 

Thou Shalt not use teeth - on any occasion no matter how lightly. 

Thou Shalt only apply adequate pressure for his pleasure. The appearance of a "*dickey" is frowned upon 

Thou shalt show adequate and true enthusiasm to the task in hand 

Thou shalt take a two handed approach to the activity, one for support and one for stimulation (or both for stimulation if that is to your fancy)

Thou shalt continue and not stop when he remarks that you are doing a good job. Use his moans and whimpers to propel you forward 

Thou shalt swallow, graciously and thankfully. If it becomes difficult, use a mentos 

Thou shalt keep it adequately lubricated at all times. Spit and Slobber are only occasionally recommended unless the gentleman in question appears to enjoy that sort of thing

Thou shalt add variety and spontaneity 

It could be possible that in fact I am actually doing a good job and this guy was an anomaly but my mate Steve had this reflection on a similar situation "Worst head i have ever got had been off the most promiscuous, porn-watching women. Who all thought they were shit hot and they were utterly terrible. Dudes who haven't had their dick sucked by many women probably told them their voracious attempts were awesome and they've ran with a flawed formula. Bottom line; you're probably way worse at them than you think" not that I am saying that I am highly promiscuous and a porn fiend but it is some fuel for thought. So there it is, I have spent my life giving blow jobs to guys that had the opinion that no matter how bad it is, its still pretty good. Well all except for that last unicorn but I accepted that I may never unlock his secrets...

Finally I would like to apologise to all the men who have had to endure the torturous experience of being in my mouth, now I understand why you never called. 

Love and Lessons 

Miss K 

* Dickey - a hickey but on your dick 

Tuesday 24 March 2015

Can I get an amen ladies?

Have you ever wondered what is in a woman's handbag? If I am honest sometimes I wonder what I have in my own, so today after some frantic searching I decided that it was time to clean it out and assess the damage. So here it is in all its glory 


The Essential



All pretty standard. Wallet, Kindle, Ipod, Contacts, Work Swipe Card, EpiPen (no death here today), Gym Card and Myki. Sweet, we are off to a good Start 

Pens 



Four. Ummm one for fancy, one for fun and another two just in case the first two stop working 

Beauty Items



Four Lipsticks, one lip crayon, two baby lips, two sparkly lip glosses, 37 bobby pins and one earring (who knows what happened to the other one). Got the lips and the ear (no plural) covered and the hair can be on point (if point is covered in bobby pins and sticky up everywhere) 

Food Items



Two forks (various sizes), a zip lock bag, various food wrappers, one breath mint, a single pain killer and two TGI wet wipes for cleaning up after yourself 

Various Paperwork



Football Tickets, an Old Payslip, an Overdue Electricity Bill that has not been opened, a receipt for my Myki, a Pill prescription that I have been meaning to fill for weeks and various fliers to events in the Melbourne Region not limited to a Sunday Night strip show at the Spearmint Rhino.

Miscellaneous Items



fifty five cents in coins, an umbrella, heel stoppers for some Stilettos, a condom (that's a bit ambitious don't you think Virgin Mary), the tassel from my purse that fell off 4 months ago, a pullie cord to plug into something to make something, organic reusable green bag, Village Movie Club card that cant be activated because its broken and a stack full of business cards for my mates Business.



That's a lot of shit right? everything you could need right? WRONG!!!!! Today, the one thing that I really needed was no where to be found. I had to ask the question of where the fuck have all the tampons gone? For the boys playing at home tampons come in a box of 8 and generally you get two boxes in a pack. One pack should be sufficient to get you through a cycle and most women start having cycles in their early teens. If you do the maths, 12 times a year over say 18 years, gives you 216 cycles. You would think that I would have gotten the hang of being prepared after all of this time... but every girl slips up and today it happened to me. All I can say is thank fuck there is an IGA next to my work. 

But disappearing tampons don't just happen in the outside world but sometimes in your house as well. You know the struggle ladies, you are convinced that you have a stack in the cupboard but in your hour of need the cupboard is bare. You have to resort to going through your gym bag, your going out clutches (all 17 of them), down the back of the couch and even into the pocket of the pants you wore the last time your Uterus fell out. You curse that one time that you found one in the bottom of the washing machine because you didn't empty your pockets and would give anything to take back the one that you threw it the rubbish because it had a bit of sticky shit stuck to the wrapper. Its always the way when you need one you cant find one but when you don't, you find yourself in a hail storm of tapered tip, silk ease covered, regular flow, grooved for the best protection ever little tampon fucks. I think that's called Irony and Irony is a bastard. 

Can I get an amen ladies? the struggle is real and we are all in the fight together. If you see me in the bathroom and need to ask, don't be at all embarrassed because it has happened to the best of us, just don't be surprised if I don't have one, I am a women after all. 

Love and Flows 

Miss K

Sunday 15 March 2015

Romance Vs Reality

I have mentioned it before and I will mention it again with only a tiny ounce of shame (and when I say tiny, it is pretty minuscule) but I love romance novels. The trashier the better!! They allow me to escape into the make believe world of someone loving me and I can get the warm mushy feeling on my insides without actually having to interact with a real person. Perfect. However, while they are great, they are about as far from reality as you can get,

If you have ever read a romance novel you will know that they follow a tried and true formula, boy meets girl, boy has a large character flaw, girl loves him anyway, the kiss, they make wild passionate love, they have a fight that breaks them up and then he realises that he cant live without her, they make some more wild passionate love and live happily ever after. Sounds totally realistic doesn't it? Well maybe not, so let me tackle these differences head on, here is the great division between romance and reality.

The Guy
Romance
Kerry looked over in his direction, he stood a head taller than anyone else in the crowd, his shoulders broad in the clearly expensively tailored suit, He had money, that was clear but he seemed to play it down. His eyes were a striking shade of Blue and she could see even from the distance that they held secrets that she would love to Unlock. She had to know him, who was this mystery man and what is his story?

Reality
Kerry looked with boredom around the crowded bar trying to find someone that caught her eye. Why were all the men in Melbourne short? At a modest 5'10 she was struggling to find a man that measured up. Standing in the corner spilling beer over himself she saw him, 6 foot 5 and dressed in a black Metallica tshirt and Vans. He was raking his eyes down all the women in his vicinity in a way that could only be described as lecherous. His eyes were blood shot and glazed and she wasn't sure if he could do more than grunt but she had to know him anyway. Who was this man and could he string a sentence together?



The First Kiss
Romance
She stood on her tip toes and looked deeply into his azure eyes as her hands lovingly slid up his torso to entangle themselves into his beard. "Kiss me" she sighed, her breath catching in her throat. With a slight smile he slid his hand into her hair and drew her face towards him slowly. He wanted to savour every moment of their first embrace. He lowered his face and claimed her lips with his, at first softly and then with a feverish intensity that neither of them had experiences before.

Reality
Kerry reached for his hand and pulled him towards her, she wanted to kiss him, she was fixating on his mouth, she was sure that he wanted to kiss her as well. The air was alive with nervous energy as their eyes locked, she lifter her arms to loop them around his neck as his hand tangled into her hair and pulled her face to his. It was all clumsy and teeth clashing and a bit too much tongue but she had certainly experienced worse. They say you need to kiss a few frogs before you find your prince.



The Family
Romance
He stood moodily with his back towards her "I don't want to talk about my family" he said, she walked to him and wound her arms around his chiselled abs as a sign of support. He let out a great sign, turned in her arms and kissed her forehead. He spoke softly so Kerry had to strain to hear what he said "both my parents are dead, they were killed in a car crash when I was 8, my grand parents were too old to look after me and I was bounced from one foster home to the next". She could feel his sadness radiating through her and she couldn't help the lone tear that slipped down her cheek. So this was the reason for his cold nature, he didn't know the love of a family. She made a pact to herself that she would be his family and lavish him for the years of loving that he missed.

Reality
"We have to go to my parents house for dinner tonight" he said absent mindedly as he smashed the buttons on the play station control. Kerry was instantly filled with dread, his mother was the typical Mother in Law, no one was good enough for her son and she made it perfectly clear that she wished that Kerry was only a temporary family member. She  carried that with every time they went to visit them in their modest family home in the suburbs with the two car garage, shag pile carpet and that annoying little dog that tried to bite her every time she visited. She put a silent prayer to the heavens that his demanding sister wasn't able to attend dinner tonight, one of his family members hating her was enough for an evening.



The Sex
Romance
He placed his hand behind her head as he gently laid him down upon sheets as white as fresh fallen snow. He looked lovingly over her body taking in every inch of the tanned skin that lay bare before him. As he slid his hands down her body she gasped, her core starting to pulse. He slid her red lace panties over her shapely legs and claimed her sex in his mouth in one smooth movement. This was the moment of her undoing. As the waves washed over her body she felt him bury himself to his hilt and start rocking in a frantic rhythm. With each trust she felt her climax building, he rasped into her ear "Look at me Kerry, I need to see you", she opened her eyes and got lost in his clear blue gaze as they tumbled together over the cliff of orgasm

Reality
She clumsily put her keys into the lock as he stood behind her pawing at her backside, "hurry" his beer drenched breath said into her ear. When the door was open he claimed her mouth with his while leading her towards the bedroom, he pushed her on to the bed as he roughly ripped off her pants and jumped on top of her. She looked up at his flaccid penis that was waving like a pendulum in front of her face, "Maybe if you put it in your mouth it will get excited". Obligingly she did as she was told as she took his wrinkly phallus into her mouth and flicked her tongue along the tip. With a great sign he pulled away and laid down next to her muttering under his breath "just don't worry about it, its not going to work, you are rubbish". She lay in a state of sadness as she heard his breathing change as he drifted off to sleep. The tears slowly rolled down her cheek as she wondered why he didn't find her attractive and what she had done wrong,



The Fight
Romance
He could feel his anger rising, who was she to tell him what to do? He didn't care for her opinion, he knew better and she should know better as well. Kerry looked at him in desperation as he turned on his heel and stormed off into the night. "Come Back, I'm sorry" she sobbed as he slid into his Black sports car and tore off into the darkness. He was gone, she knew he wouldn't come back, she could feel the black pit of despair opening up inside her, how would she ever put herself back together?

Reality
Kerry lifted the lid of the washing machine and a wave of fury washed over her, TISSUES!!!! Fucking tissues!!! He had assured her that he had checked his pockets, she had asked him three times and each time he had promised her. She was sick of being his maid and his mother. With a gigantic hmppfff she pulled the washing from the machine, stormed into the lounge room and threw the wet, soggy, tissue covered clothes over his head, "I'm going out" she barked as she grabbed her keys and slammed the door behind her.



The Reconciliation
Romance
He had buried himself in his work, he needed to close this deal. So why did his mind keep drifting back to her, His beautiful Kerry. He could only imagine the pain she was feeling at how he had abandoned her. What had he done? He walked out on the only women that he had ever loved. He cleared his throat in the middle of the meeting and said "I'm sorry gentleman, we will need to reschedule" and without a backwards glance he got up and walked out of the board room. He had to fix this and there was only one way to do it, he would stop by Tiffany, drive to her house and not leave until she agreed to make him the happiest man in the world. 

Reality
It was getting dark and Kerry was getting tired, it was time to head home and apologise to him for her outburst, even if it was warranted and he did deserve it. She pulled into the drive way, opened the door and saw him sitting on the couch where she had left him. "Sorry" she muttered as she walked past him to get his dinner ready.



Now I have debunked some of those myths about what makes a good romance novel and what actually happens in real life I feel better, its like I am letting the world know that yes, I know that its not real, but god damn it I am still going to enjoy them. There needs to be some filthy sex in my life. Let he who is without love cast the first stone and to the rest of you, remember "those who live in Glass Houses should not eat asparagus"

Love and Reality Checks

Miss K

Friday 6 March 2015

This is Depression

So here is something that not many people might know. I have depression, I tried to harm myself last year, I have a therapist called Tony and not everything is sunshine and light. I am so medicated that I now have a personality that resembles a rock. I am that 1 in 5 women and I am not ashamed to talk about it. This is what depression is to me 

Depression is... believing what other people say about you. Yes I am a fat ugly red headed bitch and I don't know how I got this far in life without realising. Every time someone tells me something nice your comment pops into my head like its a CD on repeat and drowns out everything else. 

Depression is... thinking that you are alone. I am lucky and I have lots of people in my life that would do anything for me but this demon in my head tells me that I don't. Why would someone want to be friends with me when I am so sad and down all the time? And what would I say to them anyway, how would I put into words the nothing blackness that I am feeling.

Depression is... nearly losing your job. When all you can do is cry and the moment someone looks at you or asks for something you crumble, people are going to start asking question. It doesn't matter that your work hasn't slipped because you are using it as a distraction, if your attitude isn't what it was, you are probably going to have one more thing to worry about.

Depression is... making other people worried. No one wants to know that you aren't as you were and of course they are going to react with concern. This doesn't mean you can lock them out to save them the stress, They stress because they care and at this moment you need people to care about you even if you don't want to admit it.

Depression is... no orgasms. Ever. This is a side effect of the anti depressants. Your sex drive will diminish and instead of an 8,5 in 2 minutes you will be lucky for a 3.2 after 40 minutes (or you will just give up due to fatigue). The idea of someone touching you borders on repulsion and if your "unicorn" shows up you probably couldn't even turn it on for him. And you know what, it doesn't even really seem to bother you that much.

Depression is... crying and then not crying at all. At the beginning I did nothing but cry, when I thought there was no way there could be any more tears I was proven wrong. But then the medication came and the tears went and even pulling out the big guys of Musfasa dying or The Note Book cant seem to bring them back.

Depression is... losing the ability to interact. If I don't reply to your text, ignore your phone calls or your chat window please don't take it personally. I am kind of enjoying this quiet stillness that is in my head. I have run out of words and think that everything I might say is going to be wrong. 

Depression is... losing your appetite. Food became the furthest thought in my mind. I would try to eat and I was sick, I started to lie about what I ate because it was easier than dealing with people telling me what to do. The weight fell off very quickly and everyone started to tell me how good I looked and how hard I was working. It was all a lie, I cheated, I didn't eat for three months, not because I didn't want to but just because I couldn't. I turned into a lolly pop head and I hated the way I looked. Only people from my past realised how serious it was. 

Depression is... not wanting to go to sleep. When you sleep, you dream and in my dreams all my problems that I have pushed to the back of my head come alive in brilliant detail. I remember you, I remember the way you smell and the dimple in your cheek and the way you smiled when I kissed you behind your ear. All of those things I want to forget I remember in my dreams. 

Depression is... not being able to get out of bed. In bed its warm and its quiet and its calm and its only you. In bed you can block out the world for just that little bit longer. In bed you can rest to try and make up for the missed sleep from the night before. 

Every day gets better and that little bit easier to deal with. I'm mostly eating and sleeping like the old days and my head looks less like a lolly pop (and I am much happier in my skin because of it). A few years ago I wrote a post about depression and I said that it was always going to be there waiting under the surface and that's the truth, it sneaks up on you when you aren't looking and ties an anchor around your ankles. My advice is to do what ever you can to fight it, life may not seem worth it at the moment but it will be, I promise. People love you, people think you are beautiful and people think you are worth it so when ever you dont feel like you are these things, be sure to believe them when they tell you. 

Love and Lexapro 

Miss K 

I wrote this at the start of my journey... its getting better now. 


N.B - If you are struggling visit http://www.beyondblue.org.au and your doctor to help you out. You are important, your mental health is important and should always come first. ALWAYS.

Monday 2 March 2015

The Good, the bad and the Old

There is an older lady at my work called Lorraine and she is one of those lovely older ladies that is class personified. She is always dressed and groomed well and she always makes me wonder what kind of older lady I am going to be. With every sunrise I wake up a day older than the day before so its worth considering. I am in two minds about getting older, it can have its goods and it can have its bads and now that I am at the age of cheaper insurance everything from here may well be down hill.

So this is why I am scared to get old

The Mum Bum - I am rather attached to my rump. It looks super cute in little lace panties and equally good in some tight denim jeans, it would go without saying then that I am a bit worried about getting the dreaded mum bum. You know what I am talking about, its like the buggalugs bum thief attacks all women over 50. Their neck, their back, their bootie and their crack all mould in to one with no discernible difference. I doubt I will ever be rich enough for plastic surgery and butt implants so I guess I am going to have to stick to the conventional way of dropping  it like its squat.



Ugly Shoes - if you know me, you know that I have  a fine sense in foot ware fashions and ugly shoes may be the biggest insult to humanity since forever. At what age does function top form and when does the switch flick in your head to make you think that ugly is good looking? In my head I want to be rocking designer high heels and Jordan's into my ancients and fuck the consequences.

Slacks and Blouses - While I love the word slacks I don't know that I would love wearing them with my ugly shoes. Imagine them in those boring pastel colours with their elasticised waist bands and overly ample back sections that cant be filled due to Mum Bum syndrome. And while we are imagining it pair it was a nice floral blouse in dull colours and a cardigan to shove your tissues into. The thought of this makes me shudder. I would happily for ever sit in my current outfit (and by outfit I mean nothing more than a pair of jocks and a singlet) that succumb to a pastel brown life. I will admit though to wearing high waisted knickers because those things are bloody comfortable (and in fashion and sexy) but I think that's going to be as far as I want to go in the old lady clothes stakes.



Paper Thin Skin - Old people are made of paper and that's why they break so easily. I cant really think of any other reason for it. I am scared of having skin so thin that if a sharp object even glances around the corner at it, it ends in a blood bath. Why doesn't derma keep dermaring itself? Will the oil of olay that I am using now protect me from paper skin in  the future? Should I start collecting all of my shedding skin to make myself a second skin suit for when I am older and my skin starts to fail? I hope that's not the best course of action because I live in a tiny apartment and I don't have room for a second skin.

But I think that getting older could have its good points as well

Not Giving a Shit - If anyone has had the pleasure of meeting my Nan you would know she lives by this mantra. She just doesn't give a shit what anyone thinks, she says what you she wants, she does what she wants and bugger the consequences. The freeness that this would entail is going to be amazing 

Being that old Creep in the Nursing Home - I have come to realise that I am probably going to be forever alone so this puts me in a good position for the future retirement village days. I will probably be a predator for all the old widowed men that would like to take me salsa dancing and to the opera as a means of company. I might be a cunt now, but guys in their twilight years are probably going to be desperate enough to be interested. 



Retirement - Sleeping in, having naps, going travelling on cruise ships. Yeah think about that, fuck you and your work, I am going to travel the world in style mother fuckers. Obviously in my head I have thought that my super is going to perform well or I am going to win lotto so I can live the life of leisure. (did you know that someone of my age will lose all of their super twice over due to collapses before they retire. True Story). 

Baking - I think baking and getting old go hand in hand. Maybe you learn how to be a domestic goddess as you have an abundance of time on your hands because there is really nothing else for old people to do. Just think about how delicious old age could turn out to be. I will instantly be good at baking all the tasty treats that now I can only dream about. Its gonna kinda will be like "My meat loaf brings all the boys to the yard... etc etc". I think this goes for old lady crafts like gardening, crotchet and knitting as well. With age comes wisdom (and craftiness)

Hair styles - I tend to frequent the same hair salons as the old ladies because I am after good old fashioned service with a smile and not the hyped up latest and greatest , so it goes without saying that in these salons there is a large selection of older ladies that go every week to get their hair did. A wash and set on a Saturday will get you through the week. How amazing would that be, having to only wash your hair once a week and even then someone else does it for you. This sounds like my dream come true. Also Blue Rinse, fuck yeah!!! I am all over that shit like a fat kid in a candy shop. 



So there it is, an off the top of my head, a good and bad to getting old. Check back in three months, by then I will be 32 and well on the downwards slippery slope and should have a clearer idea of the direction that my old age is going to go. 

Love and Dinosaurs 

Miss K