How to make life fair.

You may have noticed: I'm obsessed with fairness. I think that life SHOULD be fair. I know it isn't. I know that most things aren't fair, but that doesn't matter, they should be.

It's a losing battle, trying to make everything fair. You end up sacrificing a lot, because you can't take advantage of things if you want them to be fair; you have to close the loop holes, you have to reduce the unfairness that's in your favor.

Know when to walk away

Eight months ago, I wrote about 'losing' a hobby. I talked about taking a break from my hobby for a while, and how I wanted to make sure I didn't go back and become one of those ass holes that made me want to leave in the first place.

Well, I went back. I actually went back after barely a month off. I went back with a new character, one I enjoyed playing. I played a character I could have fun with, where I could just role play and not have to worry about the way game was run or who was in charge. I could just play.

And for a while, things were good. I was having fun at game, I was getting some good role playing, some fun challenges, all that kind of stuff.

Why no politics?

You have probably noticed by now that throughout this entire cycle, I have refrained from talking about politics. It's not that I don't have opinions, not that I don't want to shape the opinions of others. It's that there's no point.

Think about it. On a social media site, you are posting something for your friends to see. Your friends likely have similar views and opinions to you; that's why you're friends. So when you post something angry about one campaign or the other, you're just yelling at a group of people who feel the same outrage. You're preaching to the choir.

Advice, hypocracy, and ignorance: cornerstones of our society

People ask me for advice a lot. Usually, I'm lax to give it. But the reason I don't want to give it has nothing to do with the quality of my advice. I think I'm always giving good advice. If I thought it was bad, I wouldn't want to give it.

It's like believing you're always right; if you believed you were wrong, wouldn't you change your mind?

No, that's not why I don't like giving advice. I don't like giving it for two reasons: one, because it isn't always followed; and two, because it doesn't always work.

Why do I think that's hot?

When I walk around outside, one of the things I do is count pairs of boots. I count how many pairs of boots that I find sexy walk past me, or walk around me. I don't count Ugs, and sometimes I don't count rain boots. I only count the ones that I find attractive.

Today, I was doing it and wondering why. Why do I find these things so attractive? There was a girl maybe a hundred feet away from me. I could make out that she was wearing jeans, that she had blonde hair, and that she was wearing brown leather boots up to about her knees. And I thought it was incredibly sexy. Why is that?

The impact factor

It is said that on the day of my birth, stock markets around the world crashed. The Bermuda Triangle swallowed a cruise ship, stars in distant galaxies went supernova, and entire civilizations were destroyed by the aftermath.
And by 'It is said,' I mean just now. I just said it.

Some of it, in theory, is true. But that's all just coincidence. The truth of it is that my life hasn't had all that much of an impact on the universe at large. Or, really, even the planet.

Depression is an asshole

One of the most common things people are told when they are depressed is to 'get over it.' We are told to just feel better, to buck up, to stop feeling so down on ourselves. I'm not going to talk about how stupid that is. ("Just stop being depressed? why didn't I think of that?")

No, instead I want to talk about the other side of the argument. Because we say those same things to ourselves. We tell ourselves to get better. We tell ourselves to stop being so upset about everything, to stop feeling so down. That not everything is as bad as it looks, that things aren't all our fault.

Gender, genetics, and the mind

What is gender? For most people, that's an easy question. So easy that they don't even understand why someone would ask.

It's just gender, you know?

Well, okay. How many genders are there?

Two. Male or Female.

What about the transgendered? What about someone born male but dressed and acting female?

Still either male or female.

Okay. How about when someone defies the categories of gender entirely? Neither trying to act like a man nor trying to act like a woman. But rather intentionally acting in such a way that defies both genders?

Okay, fine. Three genders. I still don't see your point.

What is Manly?

I was reading something recently about manliness, and it got me thinking. What are the qualities of being 'Manly'? What does it mean? what activities are or are not 'Manly'?

I consider myself a man. My genetics, my physical appearance, and the choices I make in my formation of my identity all support that decision. The gender I perform is male. But is that the same thing?

I don't like sports. I don't like playing them, I don't like watching them. I think fantasy football is just dungeons and dragons for people too chicken to admit they like role playing games. I don't mind sports movies, but only because they only show the best stuff with the most drama.

Fantasy, reality, and the internet

Hi there. You're sitting down, presumably, and reading these words on a computer screen. So far as I'm aware, there isn't a print version of this blog, at least not yet. I bring it up because those are the things you can know for sure. Those are the realities of this blog.

I pretend that this blog has over a million subscribers, which is completely false. It's a fantasy, a lie developed so that I can feel like I'm reaching a whole lot of people with my ramblings.

Or maybe I'm lying. Maybe I say that no one is reading this, but actually, the stats on the site are ridiculous. Maybe you think you're the only one you know who reads this, but maybe everyone does. Maybe you all just don't want to talk about it.

I can understand why. I talk about life lessons and SFW stuff most of the time, but there are also some pretty hardcore fetish fantasy stories on here. And knowing that the borderline pornography (or blatant porn) is the most popular, maybe you're just nervous about letting other people know what you like, or about them thinking you enjoy something that you don't.

The point is, we can't be sure. Maybe everything I say is a lie. Maybe it's all true. There's no way to be completely certain.

The speed bumps in life

If life was a simple journey from point A to point B, without any kind of curves, hills, or bumps along the way, it would be a profoundly boring experience. And yet, that seems to be what we all want, or at least, what we all plan for.

I plan my life all the time. I used to plan by five year chunks, figuring that farther than that was too far to really be able to prepare for. As I got older, that chunk shrunk to two years, then to one. And even still, I find myself derailed every so often.

You can hope that life will follow the rails you lay down, but the universe tends to put quarters down on the track. And unlike the urban legend, these quarters actually do derail you.

Useless skills

I think a lot of us have useless skills. It's like being good at Trivial Pursuit. By definition, the information in that game is without purpose. It's trivial. So if you're good at it, your pursuits are trivial.

But it goes beyond that. I think we all have skills that aren't useful. Some of them we came across honestly. By that I mean some of them we developed thinking that they would be useful. Like learning to fight as a child. It's good to know. But how often, as an adult, are you going to need that skill?

How do we process bdsm?

I think this is a question we all need to ask ourselves, and ask ourselves many times. Some people seem to think that once a scene is over, that's it, and they can walk away and all is well. But that just isn't true.

 
I'm thinking particularly of a humiliation scene. If the woman I love calls me a pathetic piece of shit, a worm not worthy of a woman, a fag who is too scared to admit that he doesn't like girls... well, afterwards, I want her to reassure me that she doesn't actually feel that way. I need aftercare. 

And it's not just humiliation that needs aftercare. a good whipping sometimes needs to be followed with gentle back rubbing. The sub needs to be told that they are worthwhile, that they are loved, and that they are safe.

 
But that's what the dom does. What about the sub? What's our job after the scene is over?

Is Financial Domination a scam?

I've seen a good number of people advertising for financial domination, and I have to say, it has gotten me wondering. Could such a thing actually work, or is it just a scam, people taking advantage of gullible submissives for their own financial gain?

To answer that question, I think the best strategy is to try to develop a way that it COULD work. That is, in what situation would there be financial domination without anyone being taken advantage of?

Well, it seems to me like the major thing that matters with the fantasy of financial domination is the loss of control, the humiliation of it. Humiliation I can identify with.

A couple of old posts about boots

I was going through an older blog and decided that there were a few things I wanted to repost...

What do I like about boots?

It's a huge question. One that involves lots of meandering. So I figured I'd post it here.

It's a fetish. That's the long and short of it. I don't know why it's a fetish, but it is. All my life, when a girl (or guy) has been wearing boots, it has instantly made them more attractive to me. Boots are almost more important than any other feature (which is weird, since boots can be changed so easily).

So what am I, exactly?

Every so often, I'll write about bdsm or fetish related things. I've noticed those are the most popular posts, for whatever that's worth. Regardless, one of the things that I often wonder about is where I fit. What am I? How do I identify myself, sexually speaking?

When I meet someone who seems to be or is transgendered, I like to ask them how they identify themselves. If someone identifies as male, I will use male pronouns for him. If she identifies as female, same thing.

That may be a bad example; I'm not transgendered. I identify as male. But what about other things?

All or nothing thinking

When I was younger, my mother started making changes to her life. Not little changes, either. Huge sweeping changes, like divorcing my father or moving half way across the country and changing careers. Dad told me that it was 'All or nothing' thinking, that mom would decide that she was unhappy, and the only solution was to change everything.

Was he bitter? probably. I do need to take what he said with a grain of salt. But the principle has stuck with me, and I've always been worried when I start to change things in my life. Am I just depressed and trying to change everything, or is there real reason to do it?

The perfect job

There is a secret to happiness in life. Several of them, in fact. But the one that has always rang the truest for me is the one about how to find the perfect job.

The goal, essentially, is to find something that you love to do, and then find someone to pay you to do it. Or, more simply, to con someone into paying you to play.

We all have our own definitions of play. And that's fine. The idea is just to get paid to do it. Not everyone can manage that. How many people think of janitorial work as play? Or accounting? Or retail? Maybe some people do; I don't know. But there are probably some jobs that are just jobs, that people do because they need the money, and not because they love it (like telemarketing).

What makes a brilliant moron

People often ask me why I chose the moniker of Brilliant Moron. They ask why I call myself an idiot, and why I say I'm smart. To save time, I thought I would answer it all at once. In reverse order.

Why I say I'm smart
Well, because I am. I'm well educated (2 MAs and a PhD), but I'm also very clever. Unfortunately, there isn't really a way to MEASURE intelligence outside of education, and as you all know, I think education is a bad standard. You should only get as much education as you need.

BDSM, self destruction, and the stupidity of labels

I've seen a whole lot lately of people accusing one another of being 'fake' or of not being a 'true' submissive/dominant/whatever based on what that person is interested in. This is not a new phenomena, but it saddens me.

If I can get meta for just a second... I'd like to remind everyone that we are a subculture. We are a group that is looked down upon, that is marginalized and seen as 'other'; even outside of the simple sexual preferences, those of us who identify as 'kinky' are different. And unlike being simply queer, we can't exactly come out of the closet.

Is there an equivalent to 'fag hag' for lesbians?

Maybe it's my inherent desire for a more dominant partner, maybe it's the lack of sexual concern or misconception, but I really like lesbians.

Yes, I wish more lesbians were willing to make an exception, but that's not why I like hanging out with them. I'm not hoping they'll change their minds. I more think they're interesting, they're the kind of people I want to hang out with.

And they're nice. To me, at least.

What if it were possible to commit suicide temporarily?

As you all know by now, I have a problem with depression. Most of the time, I handle it well enough between therapy, drugs, and of course unloading my deepest personal thoughts on an unsuspecting audience, like all of you.

But there are times when it gets bad. Times when it gets bad enough that all I want is for things to stop. For the pressure of the world, the needs of my life, the constraints of my schedule, to just stop. It's not about trying to find escapism. I can find escapism. I mean completely stopping.

The A to Z of fetish

Okay... What follows is a lengthy fantasy. It's meant to take place over a period of more than a week, and that is how I wrote it. I present it here in its entirety though.
Please comment. Especially if you like it.

So subtle you're invisible

Once, someone told me that I couldn't subtly manipulate my way out of a paper bag. I was at the same time offended and pleased. Offended, because he might be right, and pleased, because he was probably wrong.

I can be subtle. I can be very subtle. What I have trouble with, though, is a little subtle. At the time that comment was made, I could either be so subtle that you would have absolutely no idea, or so blatant that it was like hitting you with a large fish. Either way, extreme was the only way I knew how.

I've learned since then. I've learned the art of manipulation, the subtlety of word choice, of communication. I've learned nonverbal cues, to read and to project them. I've made a study of subtlety.

But sometimes, I still get it wrong. I try to be subtle, but to let someone know, and I end up overshooting. I try to give hints about something, but the hints are in code, or hidden inside other comments. I keep hinting and hinting, feeling like I'm practically giving them a sign, but that sign is in another language. And another room. In the dark.

Usually, this happens when I'm dealing with sex and potential partners. I don't like to be too blunt, and so I end up being too subtle. I aim for aloof, and I land on invisible.

It's distracting and disappointing.

And I'm doing it again. Look back at this post. What was I saying again?

Honesty and Truth

There's a big difference between being honest and being truthful. I taught myself this lesson in college, when I experimented with just how dishonest, and how manipulative, I could be without ever actually telling a lie. By talking about one thing and then quickly shifting the topic, without a noticeable pause in my speech, I could convince someone that the two topics were connected, even when they weren't, without telling a lie.

Thankfully, I was doing this experiment in a game setting, so no one was hurt by it.
But I did learn a lot of tricks. I learned that leaving a word out here and there doesn't necessarily make something a lie, but might make it as deceptive as hell. I learned that some things are technically true even if they seem like lies. And that TECHNICALLY true is all that really matters. You can tell the truth and be a deceptive motherfucker.

White Knights

White Knight Syndrome is a serious problem. At least for me. When I see someone I care about (even just as friends) in a relationship with someone who doesn't treat them right, I not only try to get them to break up with the person, I also start entertaining fantasies about swooping in and having a relationship with them, even just as a secondary, to SHOW them how it's supposed to work, so they don't make the same mistake again.

Because they do. They all do. Boy or girl, man or woman, boi or gurl; they all make the same mistake. They begin to think that the relationship is a good one, and that everyone has to work at it, that compromises always need to happen, and so they stay with the idiot or, worse, the abusive jerk. And when they finally do get away, what do they do? They replace the jerk with someone exactly the same, because that's what they think they're supposed to do.

How much mourning is 'enough'?

A couple of things have been reminding me of death lately. And along with death, I've started to think about mourning.

As you know, dear readers, my mother died seven years ago last Friday. And my father passed away last October. Neither one of these were easy to go through, and I can't honestly say I'm over either one.

Can you 'Lose' a hobby?

Recently, I went through an experience that soured me to one of my hobbies. I'm at the very least taking a break from it, if not stopping it entirely. But there's a voice in my head, one that tells me that if I don't go back, then the people who soured it 'drove me away' and they 'won.' Which, by extension, means I lost.

Can you lose a hobby? I mean, you can lose one in the sense of it going away and being unable to find it. But can you lose otherwise?

I should clarify a bit. The hobby is a type of roleplaying. Not the sexy kind, but the nerdy kind. Like D&D. When I first started playing that, way back before my age was in double digits, the thing that appealed to me most about it was that you couldn't win. It was impossible. You couldn't really lose, either. You could only enjoy it.

That's what I've always liked about roleplaying. And when someone tries to force a final resolution, it makes me uncomfortable. I don't like having to compete against the people running the game. I don't like zero-sum-games. I hate that there has to be one winner and one loser. I'd rather it be something we can all have fun doing, and that way, we all win. Mutually Assured Delight, a far better MAD than that other one.

But what do you do with those people that need to win? What do you do with the ones that want it to be "I win, you lose"? One solution is what I'm doing: walking away. If they want to play that way, fine. But I don't, so I won't play with them anymore.

But that's not the best way. In fact, I'd say it might be the second worst. (The worst being going back and beating them at their own game, thus becoming the thing I hate most).

The best way is how we did it in college. I was thinking back to that game recently, and I noticed that there was a culture to that game unlike any other I've ever seen.

Characters died, yes. In that sense, people could 'lose.' But they were never killed randomly. They were given a resolution to their character's story. Maybe not the happiest resolution, but a resolution they could all be content with. And they would try, as hard as possible, not to kill anyone. IF there was no way around it, then fine. But there's almost always a way around it, and the players in that game managed to find it most of the time.

The one time I can remember someone actively pursuing another character's death, twisting things so as to be able to kill them (rather than twisting so they didn't have to), the entire game reacted with disgust. That player was ostracized (for a little bit) and told that what he did was 'not cool.' We moved on from there, but the fact that we did it at all is an important thing.

Maybe I'm remembering with rose tinted glasses. Maybe people are just assholes, moreso now than before.

Or maybe I just never noticed before.

the golden rule sucks.

They say that the golden rule is 'do unto others as you would have others do unto you.' But I don't think that works all that well.

For example, I want to worship the boots of damned near anyone I see wearing them. But I don't want that to happen to me.

But aside from the sexuality side, there are other times the 'golden rule' doesn't apply. The problem is that it asks people 'would you be okay if this happened to you?', and for a lot of situations, the answer can be yes even when what's happening isn't fair.

Take a CEO paying themselves ten million dollars a year. Would he want other CEOs to make that much money? Sure, why not? And saying that he is doing unto others when he pays his executives a fraction of that salary isn't entirely accurate. Those people are others, but the CEO isn't the same job. So a CEO paying an entry level employee forty grand a year is just saying that's how much he or she would EXPECT to be paid for an entry level job.

The problem is, it's not fair. If I'm in a position of power, I should (according to the golden rule) treat those I have power over the way I would want to be treated if our positions were reversed. But what if I think that our situations being reversed would mean that I SHOULD be treated badly?

Fair, on the other hand, is fair. It's fair for people who are more experienced, whose jobs require more education or skill, and those who bring the most to the company to get paid more than those who don't. But there's still a point where fair ends.

If I'm a CEO, I may, possibly, fairly deserve ten or even twenty times what my lowest level employee makes. But that comes to about half a million a year, not ten. Ten isn't fair.

If I make the rules for something, I should make the rules FAIR, not just the way I would want them to apply to me. That encourages me to make the rules lean in my favor, so even if I AM in that situation, I'd still have an advantage. I should be focusing on making sure that the equals are all treated equally.

Because THAT, dear readers, is the real golden rule. It's the rule we SHOULD follow, the first principle of ethical thinking: Equals should be treated equally.

Treated equally. Fairly.

Why I am this way (Masochism)

I've heard a lot of theories about why people are into BDSM. Especially when talking about masochists. I've heard that it has to do with abuse, or neglecting parents, or with trauma of some kind. And for some people, maybe that's right. But not for me. For me, that's a bunch of bullshit.

Did I have the perfect childhood? No. My parents divorced when I was young, my mother was an alcoholic and my dad was not very emotionally available. But I wasn't abused. I wasn't neglected. There was no trauma. Nothing happened that made me decide I wanted to have the shit kicked out of me.

I don't want to live out my fantasies

Once, I talked to a friend about sexual fantasies. She told me that she doesn't have fantasies anymore; she just makes phone calls. Given how much of her life sounds like a letter to a 'gentleman's' magazine, that made some sense to me.

But then I thought about it. And either her life is way, WAY worse than I thought it was, or she is not that creative, or she's lying.

My guess is that she's lying. Not intentionally. Just that she doesn't quite realize what she's saying.

Skill or Talent

Writing is easy.

No, seriously, it is. Anyone can do it. Just about anyone can learn to do it well. It's like all art. That's right, I'm saying all art is within the grasp of every idiot out there. The only question is a question of quality. And that quality comes from a combination of two things: talent and skill.

You can get pretty far with one of those two things, even if you have practically none of the other. The really talented writer might have ideas so brilliant, so pervasive, that the whole world will want to read the stories, even if they aren't very well written or, worse, include vampires that sparkle. On the other hand, with enough skill, you can be very successful. Enough skill and you can tell a story about a midget bringing a ring to a volcano, and people will forgive your obsessions with languages, your incredible predictability, and even Tom Bombadil.

But put the two together, and you get magic. You get Mozart. Picasso. Hemmingway. Rowling.

Observantly oblivious

I know it when I see it, but not when it's aimed at me.

No, I'm not talking about pornography, nor about art. I'm talking about attraction. About crushes.

I'm very good at spotting relationships before they quite start to bud. I can see the way people look at each other, that little bit of nonverbal communication as they test out one another's waters, and I can spot who will become a couple and who won't with reasonable accuracy. Friends have been known to ask me whether or not someone likes them, or for my take on the reactions or what someone was really thinking.

I'm good at it. From posture to half shrugs to wrinkles to furrows and pursed lips, I can spot a lot with nonverbal communication. Chances are, if you like someone nearby, I'll be able to spot it, and even be able to tell you who it is you fancy, and whether or not they fancy you back.

Unless, that is, I am the one you fancy. If I am the target of your desire, you're going to have to hire a skywriter to tell me that you like me. And yes, in that way. And yes, me.

I've lived my life through a series of crushes. Some of them have turned out to be reciprocal. One or two have even blossomed into relationships. But far more often, I've been bemoaning the fact that I can't find someone who likes me while talking to someone who does (and I'm too stupid to see it).

There was a girl in high school who had a huge crush on me. I liked talking to her, liked hanging out with her, even found her attractive. But I never thought she liked me. By the time I figured it out, she'd moved on.

That story can be repeated over and over; the only thing you'd need to change would be 'in high school,' and sometimes 'a girl.'  There have been people that I have talked to long after the fact, admitted that I had a crush on them, and found out that they had one on me at the same time.

Somehow, I can spot it across a room, across a field, even on television. But not when it's right in front of me.

It's because I'm stupid.

Competition is stupid

People who know me, but don't know me well, are probably surprised to find out that I'm a competitive person. I prefer activities that allow a group to work together. I game so that we're ALL the good guys (or, as the case may be, the bad guys). I don't like playing against people, I don't do online gaming; for the most part, the only kind of direct competition I like is chess. I like playing chess.

But it's all a lie. It's not that I don't like competition. I love it. I thrive on it. But what I don't like is playing by the rules. I don't like being the one you see coming. And maybe, just maybe, there's a little bit of not respecting other people as opponents. If you're not smart enough to give me a challenge, why should I even play? I wouldn't expect a professional basketball player to want to go one on one with me. Not that I'd win - there's about zero chance of that. They wouldn't want to play because I don't represent a challenge. I'm barely harder to beat than no one at all, and possibly easier (since competition tends to make people perform better).

Mostly, though, it's the desire to play outside the rules. Not breaking them. Just playing around them, playing with them. Using them to find the loop holes, to do the things no one has considered doing before. I don't want to slyly take one of your pieces off the board in a chess game. But I don't mind doing things like telling you which square your king will be on when I checkmate you - before the game starts. Can I do that? Well, sometimes. I have to be REALLY ahead to do it. But it's usually intimidating as hell to have someone tell you that. I want to play you, your mind, your paranoia, and not just the pieces you're moving around the board.

Of course, I won't TELL you that. I'll tell you that I am only interested in playing myself. All I really care about is feeling like I played a good game. Winning and losing isn't really relevant. Quality of play is all that matters.

Bullshit.

It's what I wish was true. If I weren't such a moron, it might be true. But at the end of the day, I want to win. I want to win everything. I just don't want you to know that I want to win. And I don't want you to know how important it was that I DID win.

It isn't that I'm not competitive.

It's that I don't want my enemies to know that I am.

You asked for it.

Well, I certainly set the bar high for myself. Nothing held back, nothing left behind. That's a lot to ask for. I really AM a moron.

But I promised a million non-existent people that I would do it, so I will. You can't break promises to non-existent people. Some would argue that's because you can't MAKE promises to non-existent people, but we're not here for an argument in semantics.

We're here to talk about sex. More specifically, to talk about fetishes. More specifically still, to talk about MY fetishes. Well, one of them anyway.

I noticed this fetish first in high school. It took a while to figure out, but I found that I thought girls were more attractive if they were wearing boots. Particularly if they were wearing doc martens. I thought at first that this was just an extension of my interest in bdsm. I thought I was just convincing myself that the girl with the badass boots, the girl who looked like she was the most powerful, would be that much more likely to be dominant in the bedroom.

But over time, I realized it's more than just the boots being a sign of dominance. It's actually the boots themselves. Sex when she's wearing boots is somehow better. A girl walking down the street with tight boots that have nice straps and good leather is hotter than the same girl walking with uggs or flip flops on.

Let me say that again. The SAME GIRL is hotter with boots. Hell, the same guys are hotter with boots.

So what is it about them? Part of it is the bdsm masochistic side of me: boots are made for kicking. And for walking. Yes, those boots are made for walking, and hopefully, someday, they'll walk all over me. Part of it is the power trip thing I initially thought it might be. But part of it is just the boots themselves.

You see, people with boots are more attractive than people without boots. But at the same time, boots by themselves are sometimes sexy.

I'm not your normal shoe fetishist. I have no desire to rub myself against the boots, or to use them as receptacles for my genetic material (that's about the least gross way I can think to say it). They turn me on, but I don't want to do anything sexual with them.

Unless you count using my tongue to clean them. I DO want to do that. So that's kind of sexual. But I prefer them to be worn at the time. Apparently, it feels like a very gentle foot massage. I like it when the people I play with enjoy the things I enjoy. I hate the idea of someone doing something just because I like it. Sex is supposed to be mutually enjoyable.

I only like it on the right kind of boots, though. The leather, not the fabric. Vinyl is okay, I guess. So is latex. But leather or synthetic leather are best. The tongue slides over those very well. And they taste good.

So yeah, I love everything about boots: the look, the feel, the effect on someone's walk, the smell, and the taste. Especially the taste, and the power exchange that comes with knowing what boots taste like.

I don't think I'm bisexual. Well, I think I might be. But I know one thing for absolute certain: it would be much, much easier for me to be with a man if he was wearing boots. And if he made me clean them before we did anything else. In fact, I'm not sure I COULD be with a man outside of a bdsm context, and part of that, to me, is the boots.

So there we go. That's about as direct as I can think to get with this.

An experiment in audience

Hi everyone. Glad to have you back. As you know, we've moved to this new space once we hit one million readers.

Do we write a blog with an actual audience in mind, or just one we'd like to pretend we have? This is the latter.

For those of you who are new, let me lay out what you're reading: this is my blog, the innermost thoughts of a brilliant moron. What that means is that I will be completely honest, without humility and hopefully without unwarranted arrogance. I will admit that I am stupid, but will also assert that I'm smart. If this seems weird to you, go back and read the original post; that'll make it easier to understand.

This is the original post. There is no real audience here, and certainly not one with a million members. 

Essentially, I'm too smart for my own good. And too educated for my own safety. I second guess myself until I make stupid decisions, and I am curious enough to seem like a moron. I have stupid thoughts inhabit me, just like all of you. But I entertain those thoughts, analyze them and try to decide if they mean anything; I may be a genius, but I'm too much of an idiot to dismiss stupid thoughts.

I really am going to be brutally honest here. If you somehow know who I really am, understand that before you read further. I'm not leaving anything off the table; no taboo subjects, no denials, no limits.

I hope we can continue having a good time together, sharing and laughing. Feel free to comment; remember that your comments are part of what keeps me going through this. You are the reason I'm still writing after all this time; you're the reason this blog is still here.

You may not even exist. But that paragraph is still true.