Role Play

I must apologise to all decent people for the contents of my writings. My mum would have a heart attack. But well, she's always said I'm indecent and a pastaza so here goes again. This blog is great. I can empty the contents of my brain all over here and have a new brain for more thoughts. So about the role play. I always smile when I hear the word role play. There are other people out there who are worse than me, but you'd never think it to look at them. After years of my own anthropology, I can safely say that most times I know instantly when someone is into or up to something. We all role play. It makes life interesting. And it is through nature that some of us are more dominant than others. So that said, then some of us are more submissive than others. And it doesn't stop at the office, or in the kitchen. Most of us take it straight into the bedroom. But we don't want to be found out so we guard it as our deeply revered secret. I don't blame us. But it still makes me smile. Some men and women role play as the most dominant creatures in the whole wide world. They scare people, employees, little people. They make me laugh. Because for the most part, these extremely dominant human beings will suddenly revert to submissiveness just by giving them 'the look'. They will revert to puppies. No, worse, they will revert to creatures who crave to be dominated themselves. On the other hand, the quiet ones will flip the other way. They will want to slap others into submission. It is the way it works. Because human beings have to have a mental safety valve. And nothing is more pleasurable than knocking an old pompous fart into submission. At the same time, being knocked down into submission has its joys and pleasures too. I belong to one of these categories. All this might sound mad, but it really isn't. There is substantial proof. Think about it.

Hairy

It seems I have been talking too heavily perhaps. Just when I start writing about real true and honest home truths, it seems I am making people reel. It's just the truth, but people do not want to know about the truth. And mostly the truth has a lot to do about role play. Sorry but that's how it is. We play mummy and daddy, we play doctors and nurses, we play power and submission. And that goes one when we are little people ourselves. Then we grow up and think we're too big for this kind of thing. The truth is we aren't. We're still playing parenthood, playing medicine, and playing dominance and submission. We just put on our imaginary gowns to go with it that's all. When you're a quiet woman who doesn't socialise much, a woman who mostly keeps herself to herself and therefore has time to eye people and their behaviour up, you kind of start learning a lot. And as much a I hate Freud for his facial hair, he was spot on. And although I like to think I'm far more Jungian than Freudian, I think Sigmund was very close to the truth. I will never like Sigmund very much, because I do not like facial hair very much. Facial hair on both men and women makes me think that there must be a lot to cover down there. Otherwise why would a person try to hide his face like that? I can understand covering big butts, but faces? No, I keep my face for all to see, seeing it's also my best asset but anyway. I think (and it's just my thinking) that men who have facial hair have a problem with their masculinity. Letting hair grow is disgusting, but it could also be the reason for appearing virile. Women with facial hair, that's something else. I feel sorry for them, and wish I had the guts to guide them to laser treatment. Back to men and their hairy faces, what if there were a whole colony of lice hiding in there? And who are the women who will take a hairy man to their bed? They could get crabs, because I think lice fly and they could fly down there. Geeze what a horrible horrible thought. And so they should have loos for women with men with facial hair and loos for women with men without facial hair. Just because some husband decides he's going to grow a whole bush on his face instead of on his privates doesn't mean I should get the crabs. Because it really is so sad that it turns funny, a man with facial hair means he's got two bushes, one which he puts on show, and another which (I Hope) he hides beneath his pants. I cannot for the likes of me imagine me kissing a man with a beard, it would be just like flossing. Shit this thought is uncomfortable, all that bush against my face, oh hell no. It's one bush too many. And what about the ermmm going down on another bush, that would be a hell of a mix-up wouldn't it? My imagination being what it is, that is incredibly fertile goes a step forward. How would a bearded man look like when he has to go up for air? All sheeny and sleek and slimy? Oh man, that now sounds just like a snake (pun not intended at all), and not the kind of snake this girl would appreciate. Snakes are reptiles, slimy creature, this is becoming impossible to talk about. But I must still write because I have to empty my brain as therapy over here. And let's go morbid. What about a girl getting the big Oh Yes from a bearded man who devotedly offers cunnilingus? Does he get up and shampoo his bush, and oh, does he put conditioner in and comb it through? Would he need a blow dry insted of a blow job then? How I'd love to call in all the bearded men on this island, line them up, tie them up (there goes some more bondage), and wax their hairy faces with a vengeance (more domination and sadism). But I cannot do that since this is a free country and people can decide where to wear their bush. One thing I notice about bearded men though, they like to behave like prima donnas. They think they're the best, and sometimes they can be very good at their profession. Yet they still wear the beards, and I'm not talking about the gay, well trimmed kind of beards, but the unruly all over the place. It's enough to put dental surgeons out of business. A floss a day keeps the dentist away kind of thing. Perhaps that is why I have had enough dental surgery to last me and put me out of pocket for a lifetime. And there it all was in front of me, the blessed beard. It's still a no no.

Lanyards

I have a new mobile phone which I haven't befriended yet. It looks so sleek and professional, I'd say it looks almost sexy, but I haven't even had the time to have a one night stand with it, let alone develop a relationship. I'll try because it really looks as if it's worth the time. But what's eating me up is that I cannot find one decent lanyard on the island. I need a lanyard because I know what will happen, I'll start tossing my phone around in my bag which is big and which carries just about a quarter of my possessions in it. Anything you need, just open my bag and you'll find it there. I have never understood the reason for a clutch purses. They're so small, you can't fit much into them. Admittedly, they look nice, but it's something like glamour over being practical which I can understand when it comes to shoes with killer heels but not with these micro bags. Back to my lanyard. Where have they all gone? They used to be all the rage, it was just as if the whole island had been under attack and invaded by lanyards. First they came just in black, then they started to get prettier. You could get a lanyard for something like 2 Euro. Not now. It seems as if they have died a natural death. Or perhaps people got cocky (pun intended) and realised that they had plenty of staying power (pun also intended) and started using them for some DIY BDSM. I guess the leather lanyards made great whips. And I think the pretty ones were great for sexy colourful bondage. It's something like this... going into an ironmongery store and buying lengths of rope would have raised eyebrows. And anyway, thick rude rope would scare a lot of Mistresses (yet another pun) away. And would a girl really stay if she saw a proper bull whip? My guess is of course not. If I met a guy on the street, went back to his place only to find out he was brandishing real ropes and whips, I'd be out the door in a second. But lanyard material? That looks so innocent and yet it does the part quite efficiently. And you've got instant colour and variety in the bedroom... for 2 Euro. And thus, since all lanyards have vanished from the island, then do we have a very big BDSM community on our hands, all in secret and all underground? Are there many dungeons being decorated with lanyards which do the trick just as well as cuffs and stocks? My other guess is they're all white collar workers who have innocent day jobs...