A Whole Buncha Shit You Never Knew You Wanted To Know About Me (AKA The One Where You Find Out Just How Perverted I Am)

Today is a difficult day for me. Not because of the beasts within, but for a very specific and deeply personal reason. So, while it’s highly unusual for me (especially lately), I’m gonna do my second post of the day. This one is gonna be fun! I’m in need of fun diversion, and I think some of you will wanna do this fun little thing for yourselves, too!

Over at A Momma’s View, the lovely blogger issued a superfun list of 35 questions for her readers to answer. She also asks her readers to come up with a question of their own. So. I’ll do hers and add the ones her commenters asked, and I’ll try to come up with my own to add for you.

Let’s do this thang, chickenwang. ((That was really fucking lame, but it popped into my head so it stays.) (You’re welcome.))

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1 – Boxer shorts or budgy smugglers? Bam. I can already tell these are gonna be my kinda questions! So. Chick. I don’t wear either. But if I’m gonna get to see a man’s underwear, I really hope they’re boxer briefs. Gray or black. Hm. But if he has dark skin, white ones look awesome. Hm, I bet white looks good on pale skin, too. You know what? Fuck the color, just make sure they’re snug. (What? Aren’t these Essay Questions? No? Piss off. They are so.)

2 – What color of underwear are you currently wearing? Black.

3 – How long have you been wearing them for? Let’s see, it’s 3:10 PM at this very moment. So I’ve been wearing them for 8 hours. Geez, why does that sound gross? It’s totally not!

4 – Do you ever use binoculars to watch people? No. But good idea! No, I take that back. My street is filled with old people and college kids. Wait. There’s the Lebanese guy a block down. Anybody have a pair of binoculars I can borrow? I need to find out his answer to the first question. (Look. I’m not a pervert, people. I’m a human. A fucking perverted one.)

5 – Have you ever kicked someone in the groin? Not no, but fuck no. No one has ever done anything to me that would come close to warranting that. At least not once I was old enough to consider retribution. Hell, I probably wouldn’t even now. Even if he or she deserved it. I just couldn’t be that cruel.

6 – Would you pull a trigger? No. No, I wouldn’t.

7 – If you met your favorite celebrity, and they wanted to make out with you, would you? No. Because making out leads to sex. And that ain’t happenin’ without an STD-free permit and exclusive relationship rights. Call me a prude. Don’t give a fuck. (Not without the STD-free permit, anyway!)

8 – Have you ever slept in the same bed with someone you were not in a relationship with (not talking about sex and one-night-stands)? Fuck no. Why the fuck would I be in bed with someone I didn’t want to have sex with? If you crawl into my bed, prepare for the fuckening. Unless you’re a chick. Then get out.

9 – Have you had one-night-stands? Not exactly.

10 – Does sex have the same importance to you now compared to when you were younger? Fuck. No. It matters a great deal more, now! And I’m single – what kind of bullshit is this, universe?! HUH? FUCK YOU. No. NO. No “fuck you.” If I’m not getting laid, neither are you! UNFUCK YOU!

11 – Have you ever eaten a worm? No. But I made my little sister eat one when we were kids. I felt like a god. It was awesome. And then I felt guilty, because I’m a softy. (Fuck off, I am, too.)

12 – What’s the grossest thing you’ve ever eaten? Bread. Nah, I’m kidding. Broccoli. Fucking broccoli. And mayonnaise. And cream cheese. And potted meat. And…I’m going to go puke now. Thanks a lot.

13 – How long do you spend sitting on the toilet? Uhhhhhh. I don’t like this question. Damnit. If I have a book or iPad with me (I know I know germs bleh), my ass will go numb. Good enough?

14 – What do you do when you sit there (besides the obvious)? Read or play games or pet my cat. (Not THAT “cat,” sickos. I don’t do that kind of petting on the toilet. One of the cats always follows me to the bathroom….)

15 – Have you ever been peed at? Yes, yes, I’ve been aggressively peed at by a legion of angry toddlers. It was like walking through a warm sprinkler. Ew. NO. I’ve never been peed at or on. WAIT. YES I HAVE. FROGGIES. FROGGIES HAVE PEED ON ME.

16 – What’s the grossest thing you have ever swallowed? This is a dangerous question. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna say cum. Piss. Piss with cigarette butts in it. Yeah, I’m not fucking kidding. I wish I was. Someone pissed in my soda can and put a cigarette out in it, because he thought I was done with it. Yeah. Fuck, I’m gonna hurl.

17 – What’s the constantly dirtiest place in your home? The kitchen. Ugh, I hate cleaning the kitchen.

18 – Why don’t you clean it? Because I fucking hate it. Dishes and shit. The oven. The sink. Ugh. I fucking hate it, that’s why!

19 – Do you eat your boogers? Fuck. No. But my sister used to. How do you think I knew I could easily convince her to eat worms? Nasty little shit. She was still sneaking them in her twenties. I bet she garnishes her dishes with them now.

20 – Can you describe the one smell that makes you gag? Human. KIDDING. Hmm. The one smell that makes me gag. Rotten milk or eggs. Yeah, that’s two things, but they both popped into mind as something guaranteed to make me gag.

21 – Have you ever had head lice? Yes. My sister brought them home, and we all got ’em. Fucking nasty. And she KEPT bringing them home until mom finally figured out exactly which friend they were coming from.

22 – Have you ever been utterly disappointed in someone? Yes. Yes, I have. And it’s a devastating feeling. To be utterly disappointed in someone, you have to have a high level of trust and expectations. And unfortunately, I’ve been disappointed many times in life.

23 – Have you ever been scared of someone? Yes. I’d have a real urge to piss my pants if he showed up even now.

24 – What do you do when you’re drunk that you wouldn’t want anyone to know about? Uhm. I’m honestly a pretty fun drunk. I just get silly and giggly. If I get too drunk, I run into shit. But that’s normal. Uhm. That I wouldn’t want anyone to know about? Does “get aroused” count? Not really. I think that’s pretty standard, too. I dunno! I’m fucking awesome when I’m drunk. I should probably drink more. (Kidding. I don’t drink often, and I plan to keep it that way.)

25 – Have you tried pole dancing? Not the kind you’re talking about.

26 – Have you been in a strip club? Nope. I’m not into window-shopping of any sort.

27 – Have you ever run over an animal? Yes. And I sobbed so fucking hard…every time…sometimes for days.

28 – Have you ever peed in snow? No! Bucket list!

29 – Have you ever made fun of someone and then regretted it? You bet your sweet ass I have. I regret it still. It’s shameful. Shameful.

30 – What’s your favorite kind of question on Cards for Humanity (if you know the game)? Uhm. Sex ones. DUH. Anybody wanna play?

31 – If the father of your best friend hit on you, what would you say to him? I have a specific man in mind, and my usual timid self would be out the window. I would strongly tell that bastard to fuck right off, stop breathing my air, and I hope your dick falls off.

32 – Would you go out on a date with someone half your age or double your age? No. Half my age would be 17. I have no interest in boys. Twice my age would be 70. I have no interest in changing diapers.

33 – Do you clean the sink after brushing your teeth? Isn’t that what toothpaste is for? Kidding. I don’t. I’m a fucking slob, okay? Sometimes.

34 – Have you ever spat in someone’s food or drink? No.

35 – Have you ever kissed someone only to be grossed out afterwards? Oh god, yes. Patrick, you sleaze.

36 – What is your number one goal in life, and are you living it? Contentment. Yes. I think that’s what it all boils down to. Contentment. And no. I’m not. But I’m striving for it.

37 – Do you spy on your neighbor(s)? If yes, why? No. I don’t give a fuck about their lives. Does that make me an asshole? Perhaps. But it also makes me NOT A CREEPY SPY! So there!

38 – Have you ever danced and/or cried in the rain? I know I’ve cried in the rain. I think I danced in the rain, but I could have dreamt it. Do you have “memories” like that? Where you aren’t sure it ever happened? And maybe it was just a dream? Yeah.

39 – Have you ever ditched work to just chill out on your own (with or without Netflix)? Fuck yes.

40 – And this one is from me: What do you wish you were doing right now (anything goes)? I wish I were sitting cross-legged in a mountain-rimmed meadow, laughing and talking and wishing and sharing and getting righteously baked with a companion. Maybe some guitar playing. Maybe sex under the stars. But mostly a boatload of giggles and exchanges of ideas.

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There you have it. Wanna play?

 

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To Cleave or Not to Cleave, That is the Question

Okay Peopleaneous. I’m about to perform a little exercise in exposure therapy. Here goes. Are you ready?

Breasts.
Boobs.
Jugs.
Tits.
Tatas.
Funbags.
Bouncy pillows of joy.
Those jiggly things.
Gazongas.
Hooters.
Knockers.
Rack.

Whew. I hated that. Like seriously, I’m cringing. You see, while I wasn’t raised in some sort of puritanical household, I was raised in the South where boobs are hidden except by tarts and women with boobs that defy the laws of nature and could never be covered even by the quilts of a thousand grannies.

It has been pointed out to me that I take it more seriously than most. Like. Super seriously, man. It’s not that I’m a prude, though I’m prudeish. I don’t mind sex jokes. I can handle sex scenes in movies, though uncomfortably at times. I’m totally vulgar and crude at times. To the point where I’ve embarrassed some of my male coworkers. But those instances rarely have to do with sex. As far as I’m concerned, no one in the world is having sex. I don’t want to know about your sex life. And I sure as fuck don’t want you to even think I’ve ever had sex in my life.

And I don’t have boobs. My shirt just sticks out up there. That’s all. And you don’t have boobs, either. And you don’t have dicks or balls. Except, we all do. No. Wait. We all have something. But few of us have all at once. Whatever. You get my point.

But when it comes to dressing myself. Y’all. Seriously. If I even think a top is gonna reveal cleavage, I won’t buy it. I won’t wear it. I won’t even consider it. Unless I can be assured that the cami I will wear beneath it will cover the rest and preserve my modesty.

The only person I want seeing any part of my breasts is whomever I may be intimate with. Which is not something I wanna get into here, but suffice it to say my sexual experiences have been rather limited.

So. Bible Belt upbringing + Inborn modesty + Hardcore aversion to attention + Not wanting to be perceived as one of those girls (like my sister who lets all that shit hang out, Free Willy style, except Free Boobies) = Stephanie blushing like mad when Geeky Boy Scout casts his eyes downward because fuck, my sweater slipped. Today, for example, I’m wearing a light sweater, a cami beneath, and a scarf! All to hide cleavage and any extra chins I may or may not have. (Dudes, I just like scarves. I don’t actually use them to hide cleavage, though it’s a serious added bonus.)

I not only cannot handle my own cleavage, but I cannot handle seeing the cleavage of others. Because while I’m straight as an arrow, exposed cleavage draws the eye. Period. I don’t care if you’re a man or a woman, you’re gonna look. You can’t help it. And I don’t wanna think about your tits! I don’t wanna see the cleave! Cover yourself, you harlot of Satan!

OHMYGODZOOEYNO
Oh My God, Zooey! No! Bad! Bad! Cover thyself, heathen!

You know I’m exaggerating, but for seriouses. Cleavage makes me super uncomfortable. For the most part, around where I live, I don’t see it often. So lack of exposure makes it shocking and appalling when I do see it. I’ve been told, “You’re gonna HATE it if you ever come to Sydney, because chicks walk to the shops in bikini tops sometimes.” Or, “You’re gonna be in for a major shock in Seattle, because the rivers of cleavage rival the mighty Amazon.”

And I know. But I can’t help it. And if you do so happen to see my cleavage or my traitorous nipples poking through my top, please don’t stare too long. I’ll blush like a schoolgirl and cover myself with the nearest thing possible: my hands, shirt material, stapling paper to my chest. You know. The logical choices.

So ladies and gentlemen, pervs and pervettes: tell me. To cleave or not to cleave? For that, my dears, is the question.