Women's Magazines are Not Thriving

Aside from terrible cover lines, stories that underestimate the intelligence of their readers, and predictable fashion spreads that present an extremely narrow idea of female beauty, what's wrong with today's ladymags?

- Jezebel: Nobody is Buying Ladymags these Days

That about says it all really. Mainly, stories that have nothing real or unique. That's why I seldom pick up any magazines now. I still feel a loyalty to the few Canadian magazines like (Canadian Living and Chatelaine) and, I admit, Martha Stewart's magazine almost always gets me to at least pick it up from the grocery store aisle.

I used to buy the US women's magazines too. The covers with great colours, decorating ideas and articles about how to improve so many things... but the articles are still the same, the covers are still great and tempting, but not tempting enough. The content inside just doesn't have enough to offer. It's very repetitive. Plus, what do they have that I can't find online?

I don't like seeing the end, or the troubles, for the glossy magazines. They used to have an elegance, a lustre for life. I don't find that same feeling from many websites or blogs. You can't pick up a blog at the grocery store, stick it in your purse and then have the treat of flipping through the pages later when you've got your coffee, maybe even a chocolate bar or something else kind of yummy and not really good for you.

If I Was A Prostitute

Originally posted to Adult BackWash: Tuesday May 25, 2004  

The question of the night is... What am I doing here?

Me, the good girl. Yes, I know you've heard that before. But now add to that the daughter of the deceased. When is it ok to start writing erotica again after a death in the family? Do they have a Miss Manners Guide for bad girls? Or even for good girls who like to play with the bad girls? Or just my own personal Miss Manners Guide to my own personal life since no one else seems to be looking for the same polite rules of conduct I'm looking for. I'm an oddity. I've heard it before.


Gracie and Big Blonde have a past. They were (are) professional women. Not lawyers, doctors or that sort of thing. Though, who knows what they might start next week?!

But, me, I'm a dud. I know... here you thought I could teach your old dog a few new tricks and you read about my wicked ideas and had such high hopes. Let me crush those for you now. I could be a born again virgin. I think I will just give up on the whole thing. I'm getting too old. Besides, I am very well self taught when it comes to pleasing women, one woman anyway.

Is there some point when a man just gets in the way?

I think that must be the reverse of prostitution or being a hooker, whore, etc. I won't even type the nastier ones. If you are being paid to please a man you can't start off by thinking he is in the way, can you? Not very good customer service. Even I know that just as a cashier and I only have to count their change. If I prefer I don't even have to physically touch them. I do prefer it that way actually. Do you know how gross some people really are, up close? ICK! It's enough just taking their money.

If I was a prostitute I would make them all wear full body condoms. I don't even want one curly little hair escaping. Yes, suffocation is a danger, but not for me! He can take the risk. If he really seems to be suffering I'll poke an air hole somewhere. I'm not completely mean.

If I was a prostitute I would always be the Domme. No way could I submit to some guy I've just met. Most of them are drooling idiots anyway. How can you submit to someone you're laughing at on the inside?

If I was a prostitute I would demand references from their last three lovers, up front. I don't want someone fumbling around pretending they have a clue. If I have to show them where my clit is they might as well just play with themselves awhile and then get out. Would they know the difference? I think not.

But, I'm not a prostitute. I'm not about to become one though the money would come in handy. I don't think I can become dettached enough. Plus it should all be about me, pleasing me, how good I feel, etc. If it becomes about pleasing some dickhead of a guy... that's just gross. What's in it for me? Me! Me! Me!

Maybe that's the difference between a nice girl and a bad girl. Nice girls always finish last. If at all. No wonder I don't fit in.

Now if only Martha would return my calls about the whole erotica writing/ good manners thing.

-
Give a man a free hand, and he'll try to run it all over you. - Mae West

You Should Have Slapped Him

Originally posted to Adult BackWash: Monday January 26, 2004  

You should have slapped him, you should have smacked him, you should have.... It's circling round and round in my mind like water going down the drain. I can hear it gurgle.

What would you do if a man kissed you and you didn't want it? You can't give a kiss back. Though it would be interesting to come up with the correct polite protocol. Returning kisses is usually something quite different and much more romantic and desirable.


In my case I didn't bitch slap him. But, I think (and I have been thinking about it) that I did just right. Maybe not perfectly right but I did fine. I was uncomfortable and yet curious too. I'm not someone who gets picked up by men, I seldom get noticed in fact. The whole thing was like being offered a chance to live someone else's life for a short time. It was interesting, it's still interesting.

I didn't ask to be picked up. I didn't do anything to encourage him other than sit and talk. I did ask for him to stop when he began kissing me. I did give him a push away. But I did not put myself at risk by doing something as stupid as slapping a man I don't know and can't predict. I was alone in the parking lot, there was no one else around. I don't even know anyone in that town. My closest family and friends are a two hour drive away.

In my life I've been hit by two men. However, I have never hit a man. I can't think of anyone I've hit but for the time I spanked my nephew when he terrified me by running out into traffic.

The experience of being hit by a man is alarming and terribly frightening. His face gets ugly, like a nightmare mask. His eyes bug out, his voice rises and he grabs your body as if it were a cat's chew toy. You have no control at that point. You just wait for it to be over so you can pick up your pieces and leave while he's not ranting.

So, for those who think I should have slapped him (and there were a few of you) I think you need to watch less TV. It's all fine to go around hitting and slapping people when you're following a script but in real life things are different. I don't intend to become violent or have someone else become violent with my person. It's not fun and it's not sexy. Really, it's a hell of an experience.

I don't think I should have slapped him. I'm really glad that I kept my head and drove myself away. I watched in my rearview mirror all the way home in case he had followed me. One good thing about having such a long drive was that I was sure I was alone by the time I got off the first big road.

Perfect Boobs

Originally posted to Adult BackWash: Wednesday May 05, 2004  

I didn't know I have perfect boobs. Now that I know, I'm seriously impressed with myself. I never thought those two roundish lumps could be considered perfect. I've always had a fondness for them. I could even go so far as to say I'm... proud of them. They're not bad as, two roundish lumps stuck to the front of my body, go.

But, to hear they are perfect. Well, that kind of blows my mind. Perfect! Perfect covers a lot of ground.


Perfect is in the eye of the beholder and the hands of the beholder too for that matter. So if he thinks I have perfect boobs, more power to me. More of other things to him but we'll get to that later, much later. Probably long after your bedtime.

So, now I'm sitting pretty. Perfect boobs protruding just a bit more than usual.

It is kind of odd being a woman, having two appendages sticking out in front of you. Can't ignore them. Kind of rude looking I sometimes think. As a high school girl I would just give in to the inevitable and rest my boobs on the desk. It hit at just that level. What else could you do? No one could sit that straight in those hard ass chairs all day. So, boobs ended up sitting on my desk. Maybe that is the secret of my perfect boobs, allowing them their place in the halls of learning.

I also think it's good that I don't always restrain them into boob traps, boulder holders, bras, etc. Let them have a little freedom to bob, bounce and sway. Boobs like to get out a bit, see the world and have some fun. Grrls just want to have fun! All the girls. I think it's cute how some women call them "the girls". I don't do it myself. Maybe it's just that bit too cute for me.

Anyway, me and my perfect boobs are about to hit the shower and get to bed tonight. Boobs are easy to wash. Just soap them up, rub around the nipples, under and around the breast and rinse. Other areas are more complicated, involve more steps and less modesty.

Good night. Sweaty dreams.

Kind of Shocking

Originally posted to Adult BackWash: Monday November 03, 2003  

What shocks you? Men are more shocked or flustered by a discussion of menstruation than they would be if you flashed your pussy at them in a crowded shopping mall. It's kind of funny, really. If you could even flash in public, you could test out the theory.

Of course, if you were menstruating at the time, that would be the real test. Would he be shocked, aroused or angry?

Anyway, I'm having my period. Who would have guessed, eh? It started at work, so glad we don't wear white pants as part of the work uniform. The black pants don't show anything and I know there was something to show. It was one of those days when I hoped I was wrong and I was too busy to dash off to check until a bit later when it was already too late. Then, I still had to explain that I was going out to my car, no I'm not leaving early, just getting something from the car. It's funny when men question you about this sort of thing and you know they won't like the answer. The more you try to spare their delicate sensibilities the more they seem to feel they need to know. So, I tell them, bluntly at times since, really they shouldn't have insisted on all the gory details in the first place.


Of course it was one of those times when I had bad cramps. For you guys still suffering through to read this, cramps are like someone trying to twist your internal organs into a pretzel and then force the whole mess of your insides through an opening the size of a zit. It's not fun. I was bent over double and thinking how much I hate all people in general. Of course, I don't get PMS. That would be too easily explained. I just get actual MS, it all happens in the first hour. Not that I become psycho bitch, I just don't feel like making the effort to be nice for awhile. To say that I hate everyone is really exaggerated since I was still functioning at work, being pleasant to co-workers and cleaning up after shoppers. I didn't even bite!

Eventually, I decided the pain was worth a second trip out to the car. This time I just walked out and only told one of the other women I was taking my break early. Let them wonder.

I tried something new this period. Have you ever tried Mydol or Pamperin? I haven't, still haven't exactly since I'm not wealthy enough to pay double for them when I can get the generic drugs for $4.00. Yes, I did drugs! I know, some of you will be shocked. The wallflower on drugs, it's pretty out of character. I actually did hope I'd feel kind of high too. Well, it would have been an improvement over how I was feeling at the time.

Anyway, I took two pills, they smelled nice. I waited for them to work. Waited and waited and suddenly I realized they actually were working. It was great. I had asked to leave an hour early and I still did. But, before that I was feeling fine again. More like my usual self.

So, just letting you know that wallflowers can be bitchy but there are drugs to help. Send drugs to a wallflower you know today. Do you think we could found a wallflower drug drive charity sort of thing? I could try the non-generic brands.

OK, you men, it's safe to read again. In case you skipped to the end hoping there would be some part of this that wasn't too dangerous for you to read. Come back next week (on the 16th) when I'll have something brilliant and sexy in prose for the Scribbles Festival at BackWash.