Vintage Prosey Project: 2014 Prioritization — 8/15/12

Updating the blog here to pull old entries from the pros/e/yes archives…in their original order. This project is simply a unification of my personal blog (with a LOT of NSFW entries) and my professional blog.

Hump Day ~ PruthPetals’ Favorite Day of the Week


*raises coffee mug*

You may have noticed that yesterday’s two ranty posts are no longer visible. They aren’t deleted…they’re simply put in storage for my own review at a later date…probably some point in the distant future, when I’m less annoyed by the stupidity that precipitated my posting them. Pfft, yes, I know better…of course I do. I’m not going to sit here and pretend that I’m some sort of saint or anything. *shrug* I’m a dork…I think I’ve already spoken to that fact, more than once, even. Heck, if you would have borne witness to this morning’s activities on the front porch, you would never question the fact that yours truly is a bona fide dork…with a capital D.

I’m amused by how much can happen in three months. *blink* Really. Three months ago, I shared some thoughts about F21, along with other “Christian” retailers. Chick-Fil-A included. At the time, just three very short months ago, I actually defended CFA…at least in part, because at the time, CFA -while being an organization whose ownership is openly Christian- wasn’t passing along the ownership’s message to paying customers. It’s not really all that fine of a line I draw, come to it. F21 proselytizing on its bags, and In-N-Out burgers on their cups and wrappers…that, to me, is an egregious form of preaching, no matter how ownership attempts to justify it. CFA, on the other hand, just sells (really gross) food and has some funny marketing ploys involving cows and paint buckets. I was completely okay with that. Not so much now. Hmm.

Anyway… all of that blather really has nothing to do with Hump Day, now, does it?? Hump Day is supposed to be fucking FUN. Or FUCKING fun. Or…well, yeah, you get the idea.

Last week, the topic on the table was pubes, to shear or not to shear. Today, the topic (one of my very favorites EVER) is masturbation. This is a topic that can be found (in variety context) here in this blog — not linking, cos it’d take me a while to find the specific entries — but iff’n you’re really interested, your fingertips are your best friends. *grin*

So…the classic solo sport. Why is this not included in the Summer Games, I ask you? The Olympics coverage would certainly be a helluva lot more entertaining. Can you just imagine how the commentary would go…? *laughing* Oh…my….

But yeah, anyway, self-love.

I found myself in a rather strange conversation over the weekend with a friend of mine. How the conversation shifted to masturbation, I do not actually recall, but somehow, we wound up talking about what inspires fantasy for personal satisfaction. I think we ended up on this topic by way of the “Fifty Shades” trilogy, and what my thoughts were about the books (which I shared here, as it happens). I enjoy making my friend blush, of course (that’s FUN), but I wasn’t actually trying to make her blush when I commented that there are probably hundreds…thousands…of women (and men) who have new mental material to enjoy with their shower nozzles, fingertips, hairy palms, etc.

However, what was odd about the conversation (aside from it happening at all in the first place) was the direction it actually took — to the realm of fantasy. As in, what turns anyone on? I have a hypothesis about this, as you might have already guessed, but it’s not a hypothesis I can realistically test…cos honestly, who the hell is gonna answer the questions? *laughing* But my hypothesis is, for simply the sake of solo sporting, whatever it was that first turned us on (think…way back to adolescence) stays with us into adulthood, and for the sake of fantasizing to get off, something similar to that initial mental response is what comes to mind. It can be anything, really. And –really– who cares what the what is? It’s in our own minds…nobody ever has to know if you have a fantasy about licking wet grass after a thunderstorm, and that fantasy gets you all hot & bothered & twitchy? It’s your fantasy…whatever it is.

I’m not sure why this topic is such a big deal to anyone. And before you tut-tut at me for suggesting it’s not, take a good, hard look around you (particularly in the political realm — think GOP War on Women, if you’re uncertain where I’m suggesting you look)…there are oodles & kaboodles of political people and religious people busily attempting to police your very thoughts. Let me refresh your memory, just in case you require…do you remember the hot fuss a few years back with the “Little Mermaid” …at all? (And that particular article is extremely mild compared with some of the ones I remember reading at the time.)

And I can’t help but fucking wonder…

…and I apologize in advance for this thought because I know there is not remotely enough bleach and steel wool in the world to scrub your brains clean of this…but …

…what does someone like Mitt Romney masturbate to? (And do not suggest that he doesn’t do that, cos all the magic underwear in the world doesn’t prevent someone from diddling themselves.) Certainly not to a mental picture of Ann…I’m not suggesting she’s ugly or anything (I think she holds a certain type of attractiveness…in the same way that Ann Coulter might be considered attractive by some folks)…and speaking of horses…

…oh, THAT could be it! I’ll bet Mittens jacks off to a mental image of his wife getting nailed by one of her dressage horses! Or maybe not even his wife…maybe…Michelle Malkin or…oooh, wait for it…

Rick Santorum!

So much virulent protestations regarding marriage equality makes me wonder about “closeted issues” from so many of these politicians, I can’t help but wonder what is really twinkling out of their asses?

*clears throat*

I know, I know…go ahead, go rinse your mouth out with some Listerine so that the taste of vomit is cleared out. I understand completely.

My point is not that I give a flying monkey fuck what Romney jacks off to (or anybody, frankly, for that matter). The point is, nobody can tell YOU what is “right” or “wrong” in terms of what turns you on inside of your own head, and what gets you off quick, fast, and in a hurry when you’re in need of all-natural stress relief.

Go on now…go have some fun. I won’t tell anyone, honest.

Happy Hump Day!

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