But I Love My Perky Tits July 24, 2008

I distinctly remember the episode of Punky Brewster when she ate cheese puffs and did an exercise chanting “I must, I must increase my bust” so that her boobage would be bigger.  I’ve always wanted bigger boobs.  I’m a solid B cup.  I’ve always wanted to be a nice full, voluptuous C cup.  The idea of shaking money maker big ta-ta’s is actually quite thrilling.

Last night I got a whole new wardrobe.  I mean a whole fucking amazing mind-blowing wardrobe.  I tried on tons of tops and dresses with no bra.  My breasts looked utterly lovely.  Small.  Perky.  Happy.  Smiling nipples.  I fell in love with my breasts, for the first time.  I don’t think I’m ever going to wear a bra again, at least not until the tits start sagging.  I’m cool with my erect nipples being shown off.  It excites me.

I’m happy with my body.  I feel sexy in it.  As shallow as it sounds, I don’t want a pregnancy messing it up.  I love my breasts too much.  I’m done with all of this fertility crap for now.  

I’m no longer an infertile cow.  I’m perky tit chick.

The End

My Priorities, My Perogative June 27, 2008

Would I rather have a weight issue or a fertility issue. 

Ding! Ding! Ding!  I’d rather be an infertile cow.  I know that I’m a fucked up cow for having this belief.  Can I blame it on the media or something?

On IM:

Moon: I just took – on a half hour scooting adventure. Yet, still, I am fat.

me: fucking thyroid

Moon: It’s just so unfair. I should look like a supermodel.

me: it’s more unfair than having babies fall out of ur vagina.  it’s just pure WRONG.

Moon: I’m glad u understand my pain.

 

Texting Dirty June 26, 2008

I’m pretty sure I already ovulated on my own this month.  I’m just super horny.  So I started playing with my buttons, the buttons on my blackberry that is.  I admit it — I am a text-a-holic.  I love texting… especially dirty texts to MPS.  I can move my fingers pretty fast over those tiny buttons! 

My Text:  Come home and do me.  Wanna eat a muffin?  U can help me out and provide some milk.

Like I’ve said before — sex should be raunchy fun.  Foreplay through words early on in the day just turns me on.  Texting dirty turns me on.  I suppose it’s not so hard too turn me on. 

Anyhow, I’m getting these weird slight cramps.  No time to worry b/c I’ve got sex on the brain.

Knockin’ Boots All Day & Night Long June 23, 2008

So after a 3 hour sex fest on Saturday night (he ejaculated inside of me at least 9 times) I woke up to fun loving Sunday morning (2x to be exact).  Unfortunately, it takes me forever to cum on Prozac but don’t worry I got the mission accomplished.  Sunday night ended in getting wasted.  Dancing the night away.  Passing out from sheer exhaustion. 

This morning MPS ran out of the house to work.  As soon I went to pee I saw that an egg had been cracked in my vagina and the whites were running pouring down.  This made me think about the fuck-tarded messages on fertility/pregnancy message boards “Did I miss my chance to get pregnant b/c my partner and I do the nasty once a month only?  We had sex once last week and I think I just ovulated.  Help girls — I really want to give him a baby. ”    BARF.  I puke in my mouth just a little thinking about those message boards.

I don’t want sex to  be part of the fertility game.  I know that makes absolutely no sense.  Sex is not for making babies.  Sex is for me and MPS to have mutual orgasms.  I don’t ever want to think, “oh fug me, I think I missed my fertile window.”  I’d rather be thinking, “shit my thigh is still killing me from that position last night.”  Sex is supposed to be sexy, raunchy, and nasty fun.  I refuse to have baby making sex.  Hell mother fucking NO.  I don’t cum from missionary.  Correction, I have cum from missionary but it’s not my fave position.  I like to be on top and the spermies may all fall out but whatever — at least I’m cumming.  Legs in the air?  Yes, my legs will be in the air when they’re wrapped around his head, neck or shoulders.  I’m not lying in a bed with a pillow underneath my ass.  I refuse to take my temperature daily.  I refuse to pee on an opk test. 

What I will do is promise to try to have sex at least once a day.  I promise to honor my pussy and never forget that she is not just for making babies.   Baby making is one of her tiniest responsibilities.  She is my best friend.  She is the holder of my secrets.  She is the giver of my pleasure.  Pussy, I will never forsake you!

Swooning June 19, 2008

I have another blog.  My uber secret blog that only the coolest peeps have access too.  I haven’t posted on my other blog since I started this one.  I don’t know how long I plan on keeping this blog.  My other blog is the “home” blog if that makes sense.  So I suppose I could post this on the other blog but fuck it… I’m too lazy.

MPS called me this morning and he is so ridiculously cute.  His voice makes me swoon, especially when it’s scratchy in the morning.  I almost died when he said, “I woke up all alone and naked!”  Poor thing.  Alone and naked are never a good combination,Alone and naked are a great combination with a vibrator at hand.  MPS isn’t allowed to wack off.  I sternly told him as I was giving him head last night, “I’ll kill you if you cum in my mouth… I want all spermies in the cha-cha.”  Don’t feel too bad for the kid.. I do him multiple times a day.

Sex After D&C June 5, 2008

I was afraid my vagina was going to fall out.  I sheepishly called Dr. S. 

Me:  Hypothetically speaking, if we had sex yesterday will my vagina fall out? (Like I’m going to tell on myself)

Dr. S:  No, your vagina will not fall out.**

The doc certainly advised us against having sex for the next 2 weeks.  But I feel like I’ve already broken the seal…  I know, I’m bad.

**I do a lot of shit talking about my doctor (but duh, who else am I supposed to be pissed with)  – but he’s a funny dude.