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Lesbian Dating, Relationships, and Sexy Encounters
Welcome to the Sanitarium...
 
"Moral indignation is jealousy with a halo."

H. G. Wells
Keywords | Title View | Refer to a Friend |
And the Thunder Rolls
Posted:Jul 22, 2017 10:14 pm
Last Updated:Jul 23, 2017 4:58 pm
4367 Views

My photo, a hailstorm that passed through a few weeks ago.

It's raining cats and dogs here tonight. The thunder is so heavy and filled with such rage that it has rattled the floors a couple of times and the lightening has filled the sky with eerie light again and again. It has been beautiful to watch.

I was going to write, but I think I'll wait for that first cup of coffee in the morning. I'm pretty tired and I think letting this storm lull me to sleep sounds like a fine idea.

Later Gators.
2 Comments
And the more things change...
Posted:Jul 21, 2017 2:49 pm
Last Updated:Jul 25, 2017 9:12 am
4387 Views
Lol, this fucking place, man. Swear to God, it's a good thing I don't take this blog all that seriously. I spent thirty minutes of my blessed moments of silence this morning writing a bit of comedic genius---stop rolling your eyes--- only to have it disappear the instant I hit post.
I forgot the most important rule of blog club, always, always, always make a copy before you hit post.
I'm writing this on the run, between dropping in for high level decisions from around the corner, to me over here in my corner trying to get just an octave or two fewer levels of shrill squealing.

So, I'm sending my stand in to entertain you.
Maybe tomorrow my blog will not vanish.

4 Comments
It's Getting Hot in Here
Posted:Jul 20, 2017 5:34 am
Last Updated:Jul 24, 2017 11:47 am
5187 Views


Photo is mine, taken after a particularly nasty storm.

Fuck me! This heat is insane. The temperatures aren't that high, but apparently every bit of the moisture from the gulf has settled over my 'hood. It's so hot we can't even keep the pool chlorinated. Which has brought forth great despondency within the ranks of the minion horde, because we are in the midst of amending the water and they can't be puddle ducks.

I'm a water baby from the word go. I love the water, have since forever. If I could pitch a tent on a beach and live there I would. The feel of water on my skin is oddly sensual, like the caress of a million soft hands. I'm as despondent as they are. This is pool weather, and the pool is being...difficult.

I really haven't got much time for blogging this morning, hosting a sleepover for five giggling little princesses tonight, and all five are screaming for pancakes.

Maybe I'll return later and write. I'm off to heat up the kitchen and feed my tiny militants. (Someday these girls will takeover the world. My plan is working!)
4 Comments
Where the Streets Have No Name
Posted:Jul 18, 2017 6:34 am
Last Updated:Aug 1, 2017 5:50 pm
5602 Views

My photo, taken several years ago on an evening stroll.
I like this quiet little area of the city I live in. Crime rates are low, the neighbors, much like ourselves are quiet and keep to themselves. It's rather idyllic actually. They could cast and produce "Our Town" here.

My hormones are going crazy these days. When it comes to my sexy? It's either feast or famine. I'm either as sexual as a light bulb or I cannot get sex off my mind.
And I never know what I'm going to wake up feeling.

When I was at the peak of menopause, my desire for sex ranked right beside my desire to hand wash an unwilling porcupine. This lasted for two years and honestly I think it was what set off my last bout of depression. As if aging wasn't bad enough, then came the sweats, the moodiness, the insomnia. And I refuse to pollute my body with synthetic hormones. So for the last two years I have literally sweated it out. And I'm happy to report that at long last, I can see a light at the end of the tunnel.
I've started having naughty dreams again. I've started to miss morning sex.
Honestly, I frequently feel like a twenty year old girl again, consumed with a passion that sometimes worries me in its intensity. Because when I was young, I was something of a nympho. And while my desire might set at the same level, the contortionist acts that I used to enjoy are nowhere my body is going to be willing to go. I might hurt me.
In my youth my favorite sexual escapades were outside. There is a rock outcrop in my home state that probably still has enough of my skin on it to do a DNA analysis. Another favorite sexcapde spot was bent over the trunk of a car, deep in a forest with moonlight filtering through the trees. I once had sex with my then husband in a lake, shoved against a concrete pier. I still get the fidgets when I think about it too hard. And I'm not kidding, he probably still remembers it too, he has a tiny scar from my nails on his left shoulder. Or at least he still had it when we divorced.
Just call me nature girl, sex in the great outdoors is fabulous.

That is not to say that sex in a more conventional setting isn't just as good. With the right partner sex in the missionary position can still make my toes curl. One of my favorite previous escapades was at a hotel, shoved naked against a window overlooking the interstate. I don't think we were seen, but at the moment? The pope could have stood there watching and I wouldn't have given half a shit.

So, what about you?
Got any favorite sexual spaces?
8 Comments
Monday, Monday
Posted:Jul 17, 2017 7:06 am
Last Updated:Jul 24, 2017 2:26 pm
5050 Views
Meh. It's Monday.

I'm semi off today. The minion horde is with their parental units for the day, but I have two of my Granddaughters here.
Thankfully they enjoy sleeping in. If I had known this earlier I would have slept in too.
Ah, well. I can sleep when I'm dead.

Such early quiet mornings are kind of nice. I usually sit here at the dining room table and sip my coffee, read the news and fart around on social media until the coffee kicks in and I realize I am indeed awake. Some days that takes a little longer than others.

I've been watching political fights on another site. Pro Trump vs anti Trump people verbally duking it out, saying shit that they would never in their giddiest of daydreams imagine saying to someone face to face. It used to make me laugh out loud when they all started having a go at one another, now it just makes me sad. It's a lot like watching Rome burn while listening to Nero's fiddle.
I have no side politically speaking, I really don't like any politician. Period. They are all self serving liars who care more about money than they do humanity. There are a rare few who seem to be working for the good of all mankind, but the downside of social media is that all anyone can see from it is the side of the person that they themselves choose to put out there. And my trust issues are such that I look at all of it with skepticism.
My biggest beef with our gov'ment right now is the dismantling of our environmental safeguards in the name of making a buck.
More than oil, the idea of bringing back coal horrifies me. I grew up in coal country. I've seen what black lung looks like, I've seen rolling green mountains scarred forever by mountaintop removal mining practices. But I've also seen how hard it is for people in coal mining areas to survive without those mines.
When Clinton signed the NAFTA trade agreement, all the textile mills that once provided income for people in the area where I grew up closed their doors and headed to third world countries so they could exploit impoverished people for cheaper labor and lowered health and safety standards. Coal mining was about the only chance communities had to stimulate economic growth and give citizens a way to earn a decent living. And when the mines started closing down some years back, it hit hard. Without those mines there is little else for people who don't own a farm to do. Retail cannot thrive and provide jobs to a place where no one except those who work in retail have jobs. In a place that did not usually see drug crimes more serious than weed busts and DUI's there are now meth labs and addiction and all the crimes that those things bring about.
Bringing back coal mining is the easy answer to the complex problem of that area. But like most easy answers, it comes at a premium cost. Rolling back environmental safeguards on coal mining waste is going to see an increased rate of birth defects and health issues of epic proportions in an era where only a blessed portion of our citizenship has decent healthcare coverage. And then there is the matter of increased natural disasters like flooding caused by removing the tops of the mountains that once served as a channel to distribute rainfall and ice melt evenly. Landslides because the trees that once held the mountains together with their roots are gone.
And while we sit and argue over who said what and who did what and other truly nonsensical bullshit, politicians carry on doing just as they damn well please because in their fortified ivory towers, NONE of this touches them, at least not yet. They have to cater to their corporate sponsorship, so they can afford their ivory tower. And the corporations have to cater to stockholders and ceo's, and by the time that shitstream starts rolling, the ones who are buried beneath it are people who are simply trying to build a life for themselves.
Go on any social media site and you will hear a million plus voices crying out in the name of this cause or that, but the fucked up thing about that is that each voice can only see as far as what they want. There are millions of voices and absolutely jack shit in the way of cohesion. Everyone thinks their personal cause is the only cause that needs to be addressed and each person within both sides of that cause wants everything their way. No one is willing to compromise on anything, no one wants to sit aside societal causes and concerns and work on things that will benefit our nation as a whole. We can't possibly work together to establish green energy jobs when we have to save stray dogs and cats.... (And dear God, please, I'm not saying animal rescue is not important, but we have got to get our shit together or we are going to all end up dead because our only planet is too polluted to harbor life.)

So, every day I search for that voice crying out from the wilderness of social media who will be someone to unite us. That rusty knight draped in crumpled tinfoil who will bring us back to sanity and lead us to a brighter future.
Alas, it feels like there are no more Dr. Kings, no Ghandis left in this world.
Jealousy and fear has likely killed them all or beaten them catatonic.

I could go on for days about this, but the girls are up and I have grandmotherly business to attend.
Love, peace, and bacon grease ya'll.

3 Comments
Digital Art and the Path to Happiness
Posted:Jul 15, 2017 6:56 am
Last Updated:Jul 16, 2017 1:11 pm
4895 Views


I drew this some time back, photographed it, then ran it through a filter program.
I'm pretty happy with the way it came out. The original was a mixed media piece done with charcoal and colored pencil from a photo I found online and admired.
I haven't sketched in years, I don't really know why I haven't, I just haven't. I'd imagine it has something to do with depression, which I've been battling since I quit blogging some time back. And part of it is just being too busy with and the normal hustle and bustle of daily life. Creating art, either drawing or writing, requires my full attention. If I'm being interrupted by requests for cookies and battles over which cartoon is going to be watched next, I lose momentum and interest.
It is a beautiful morning here, for the moment my neighborhood is quiet. Several of the properties around us have been sold, the older folks all snow-birding, moving away, passing away, and their homes are being purchased by younger families, new faces, new , new pets. I like watching the evolution of life here. There are very few rental properties here, only three that I'm aware of in a 3 block radius. So there is a pattern to these changes. A visual perspective of time marching forward that is so much more interesting than what I see in the mirror.
Aging. What fun, eh?
Part of the depression I mentioned earlier, was connected to that. I've come to a place of semi-acceptance with it, mainly because there is really not jack shit I can do about it, and I'm not so vain as to want to fight a natural process. Everyone gets old. Everyone will eventually die. These are certain things.
I think my sadness about aging has less to do with the change in my appearance and more to do with the loss of ability. Many of the things I was once able to do without effort or even a second thought are difficult, laborious, or completely gone from my life. Hiking, which once occupied most of my free time, is relegated to short walks on tended paths. Travel, which once was my greatest joy and something I would do on a moments notice, now requires scheduling and planning.
Basically, I feel as if I'm living in a cage of my own making, held prisoner by uncooperative joints and fear of what might happen should I fall.
If a Dee falls alone in the forest, will anyone hear?
But, I've started replacing some of those missed things with other things. I garden, I've started swimming again.
And I've started creating art again.
I think my blogs are going to become a place for my prose, a place where I stretch my linguistic legs.
New readers:
If you come here looking for tits and ass, I'm afraid you will leave disappointed.
And for the love of God, newbies, yes I know this is a sex site. I've been on this site longer than some of this membership has been out of high school.
The main reason I keep my blog here is the simplicity of use. All the other places I have looked at are a pain in the ass to use, filled with people who are either being paid or trying to be paid for their writing, (which I am in no way knocking) and they frown upon the liberal amount on bad language I use at times. So before you offer me sage advice, let me give you a little tip, I give zero fucks, not even a rat's ass, that this is a sex site. If you want to get laid all you need to do is ask the right person and not get pissy about the inevitable 'No thanks' you will hear from time to time. And if you are looking for something to masturbate to...well there is an ample supply readily available in every corner of this site. So don't give me shit because it's not on this blog. I'm not in the market for sex, not in the business of writing porn, and I've developed an aversion to giving away parts of myself to people who only wish to use and then dispose of me when they are satisfied themselves.
I'm still with Mr. and Mrs., ten years as of July. They are honestly the best thing to ever come out of this site for me. Don't believe people when they tell you this site is only for making hook-ups. Love is the thing that comes to you from wherever it pleases.

Just an aside, I probably won't be writing much next week, two of my granddaughters are coming to spend time with me, so my free time will be limited.
Happy Saturday, go out there and grab life by the cajones!
2 Comments
Dusty
Posted:Jul 13, 2017 6:51 am
Last Updated:Jul 14, 2017 7:11 am
4488 Views

And a little rusty. It's been some time since I've written anything more than a sentence or two. I'm not really sure why I'm even back here other than I'm bored out of my mind about ninety percent of the time. Life certainly is a long strange trip. If someone had told me when I was a twenty something just how difficult interpersonal relationships are, there's a real chance I would have joined a convent or became a hermit.
My life situation is unchanged other than I'm older, fatter, and filled with fuckitol.
I do have a lot of time on my hands at the moment, the wee-est of the three minion I keep is off visiting her papa, the older two only need me to feed them and referee the fights. So I thought I might start blogging again. Maybe see if I can find some motivation to reclaim my sexy.
I've started to diet and exercise again, my weight is out of control and its fucking with my self esteem. And since my eating is directly connected to my boredom, this is part of the plan. If my hands are on a keyboard they can't be cramming that strawberry muffin into my cakehole, see.
It's storming here, the rain is warm and the thunder is distant. It's a nice setting for writing.
But the question is, what does one write about when they have spent the last two years doing next to nothing that would be write-worthy?
Do I write about the endless hours of cartoons I listen to day after live long day? Do I write about the Net.... binges I have on the weekends? Do I write about the pain that has become my constant companion? Do I dig up bones and write about some of the less-than-savory escapades of my past life when I was clubbing every night and riding a razors edge between sanity and madness?
I'm at a very boring place in my life and I need it to change and have no idea where to start.
So...this place seems as likely a place as any I guess.
Stay tuned.
3 Comments
Trick or Treat...
Posted:Oct 31, 2015 6:32 pm
Last Updated:Jul 13, 2017 7:11 am
15905 Views


The minion hoardes have not started beating on the door yet, so I am currently savoring the silence of it all. Once they start arriving, the dogs will not stop barking, at the peak of the cycle, we just set outside, it ain't worth going up and down the steps every five minutes. Luckily it is nice out tonight.

My favorite Halloween memory is from 1973-ish. I was about ten years old. My cousin, her cousin, and myself all conned my Grandmother into letting us spend Halloween night with her so we could help her hand out candy to the little ones. My Grandma loved , but her light went off after it got too dark for her to see people as they came up the walk unless someone was there to help.
Since she was known to shoot through the door and ask questions later if anyone came to her house unannounced after dark, all parents involved thought our staying there was a grand idea.
Up until 9pm, it was oohing and awwing over little in their costumes, but about 9:30 Grandma told us if we wanted to go prank our Uncle Joe who lived at the top of the hill from her house we could.
My cousins were a few years older than I was at 13, so I was just a tagalong pest who whined until Grandma made them take me along, so they decided to see how much of an ass-beating they could earn for me.
And oh yes, I did very much get my ass beat twice, once after all was said and done then again when I got home the next day.

It was worth it.

We started at my Uncle's house. There was a sinkhole in the field beside his house, so we stole all of his lawn furniture and carried it down in the sinkhole. That didn't take nearly enough time. Nor was it appropriately Halloweenish for us.
We could do much better, sayeth the consensus.
And much like Delmar in "Oh Brother Where Art Thou" I replied "I'm with you fellers".

Now mind you, Grandma had only given us permission to go hide Uncle Joe's furniture, everything after that was brilliance born of three mischievous pre-teens who had just been given the ability to run completely wild and free for about 3 hours on a Halloween night. ALONE. Our parents were in bed, our Grandmother did not realize we were out, she was dozing off in her recliner before we ever left.
After hiding our Uncles stuff, we decided to hide the neighbors porch chairs behind his garage. We very nearly got busted because I couldn't quit giggling as I imagined everyone getting up looking for their stuff the next day. My Uncle had this thing about UFO's, so he would have likely blamed it on alien invasions. He swore he saw a cow that had been brutalized by aliens.
(I'm pretty sure it was a bloated, laid-in-the-sun-till-it-exploded, a-typical dead cow. Uncle Joe was a factory man, he knew less than squat about cows.)
Anyways..to ten year old me? That was some funny shit. Adults were easy to read at that age, their reactions were known.
My cousin had been busted smoking at the bus stop by one of the neighbors and unbeknownst to me, she and her cousin had been plotting revenge. They had a couple of rolls of toilet paper they had smuggled from home in their jacket pockets. And a pack of cigarettes and some matches. And a pissy pre- attitude about getting busted doing something you know damn well you are forbidden to do.
So we set off on a mile hike to avenge my cousin's sore ass. Smoking cigarettes and feeling like we were so grown up.
When we finally got there, we were like Ninjas or Marines. Teaching a to deer and coon hunt teaches them how to appreciate silence and how to understand hearing levels in different animals. Including those of a nosy old lady who had the audacity to care about your health. (She wasn't just trying to tell on my cousin, she lost her husband to lung cancer from the coal mines.)
So we tp'd the whole front porch, the two very well-tended and pruned chestnut trees in her yard, parts of her roof. We hid her furniture, we tipped her garbage cans, and we stole a pair of overalls and a shirt off the clothesline when we stole it.
Unfortunately, our loud bragging about what each of us had done DID wake one of the neighbors. It was too late to call our family, that phone call did come through the next morning. But it really didn't have to come at all, we had another brilliant spur of the moment idea that earned each of us our first ride in a squad car...with the lights on, to my Grandmother's front door.
(That truly was my first walk of shame. The twelve steps from the back of that car to her porch steps were like walking through quicksand. I have seen snails that could have passed me at that moment.)

Since we had the line we had just stolen, we thought it would be really funny to cause people to slam on their brakes and blow their horns, so we sat down on the edge of the woods and stuffed the pants and shirt with leaves, then threw the dummy over a low hanging tree limb and run the clothesline down the back of the tree and then I laid in the ditch and waited for cars to come while my cousins were up in the tree, operating the rope.
I was on lookout. The first car was spotted and I GI rolled my ass down the side of that ditch into the 2 inch deep puddle that was at the bottom of the ditch and gave the signal to my cousins who were up in the tree. When the car was just about on them, they yanked the clothesline and pulled the stuffed headless dummy up real fast. They flubbed the first car, didn't pull fast enough so the dummy got blown so hard by the breeze off the car it damn near yanked them out of the trees.
The second car gave me a serious set of scratches on my face and arms as I missed my target trajectory back into the ditch and rolled through a patch of wild raspberry vines. I wanted to cry so bad, but I didn't.
We were rewarded with screaming brakes and squalling tires, it was a very proud moment.
I was pretty sure that my participation in this night meant I was almost an adult. Ten years seemed to be such an incredibly long time to have been alive, and I was pretty convinced I had seen and done everything there was to see and do as a ten year old. I was ready for more adult entertainment. And man oh man, didn't this qualify as big time. I couldn't wait to tell my friends about this at school.
I was, for the first time in my awkward, shy life, feeling cool.

Kinda lost that feeling on the third car. Unbeknownst to us, the kindly neighbor who wouldn't call our folks or our Grandma at such an hour..it was after 11pm. knew the PD was open all night. And the sheriff that patrolled that neighborhood just so happened to live there, be related to my cousin's dad by marriage, and knew who the hell we were just from the description of the neighbor...she called us all by name when she ratted us out. That half a block ride to the house was one very stern and angry lecture, and pointedly telling me just how easily I could have been killed if we had actually caused a car to skid out of control.

The look on my Grandmothers face...unholy yet righteous anger made her eyes glow like a cat's when the lights on that patrol car hit them.
For the first time in my young life, I knew what primal fear tasted like.
And my not particularly pious young self learned how to pray for lives to be spared. The Sheriff brought us to the door, my Grandmother simply said "Couch NOW." to each of us and stepped out on the porch to talk to the Sheriff.
We were whispering excuses and lining up our stories each of us doing our best to evade capture.

But we each knew that we were in a lot of trouble.

After she told us to shut up, she already knew the truth of the matter and that she was so ashamed of us she didn't even want to talk to us right now, Grandma lined us up in front of the couch, and we got 3 good hard swats across the ass with a belt, then sent to bed. And Grandma was absolutely no punk. She could swing an axe like a man then, and she didn't spare the horses on those swings she gave us. My ass was still stinging the next morning. And when my Dad got through with the ass whooping from him, I decided maybe being 'grown up' wasn't quite as much fun as I had previously thought.

But that night, as I laid on a pallet of pillows and blankets in my Grandmother's spare bedroom with my cousin's, sniffling and laughing in whispers, I felt so grown, so included, so loved by my aged and wise cousins. It was truly a magical night, a kind of coming of age for me.

Now, on Halloween night, when the "later" come, the older ones who are out without their parents, I see a slight reflection of that I used to be staring intently back at me with a gleam in their eye. It never fails to make me smile.

Happy Halloween everyone.
6 Comments
My Sexy
Posted:Oct 28, 2015 11:47 am
Last Updated:Jul 13, 2017 6:51 am
14988 Views
Must be showing. Either that or people feel obligated to tell me that this is..after all...a sex site.


So, here is the skinny. My sexy is dead. I have had no desire for sex in well over a year now. And truthfully, I am too sore and too busy to really miss it. If I did want sex? I got that handled too, I am still with Mr and Mrs, God only knows why they love me so much, but they do and I am grateful to have them in my life, wouldn't change that for anything in the world.

You know what I do miss? Naps. God there are times I really would like to take an afternoon nap again.

My status is factual. I have some kind of bone issue, don't really know, I think it is degenerative bone disease because I am shrinking and my legs and hips only work when they want to work. Which means I sit a lot. Which means I am bored a lot. Which means I indulge my appetite. Which means I have gotten fat.
I am post menopausal, which means if I were given a choice between anything sexual and watching Law and Order reruns, I am going to watch the living shit out of some Law and Order.
(I really miss Elliot. That man was some kinda hot. And Shemar Moore on Criminal Minds? Holy fuck, God gave all the pretty genes to him.)

But I will be keeping my blog here. Several reasons. Mainly I still have some real life friends who blog here, and some other friends I haven't met yet that I have been blogging with since around 2008. I can say things like Fuck and Shit and not have someone get their panties in a wad because I have a potty mouth. And since I keep toddlers, I really can't say these words out loud, so it helps me to come in here and cuss like a sailor with tourette's syndrome from time to time.
And because I want to, and there is no law that says a person who doesn't want sex can't have a blog on a sex site.

Ya'll have a good day, naptime is almost over and the screaming is soon to start. Can't miss out on that, that's the good stuff.
5 Comments
Mama Wilds Instructional Memes
Posted:Oct 27, 2015 10:43 am
Last Updated:Oct 28, 2015 11:13 am
14724 Views
Gleaned from all corners of the internet, Mama Wild brings you sexual information in the hope that those gold crowns will be worth the price.












6 Comments
Sunday Morning Slide
Posted:Sep 6, 2015 6:00 am
Last Updated:Jul 13, 2017 4:19 pm
16128 Views
I love a quiet Sunday morning.

My world is still sleeping, there are no lawn mowers, no stereos, no , no traffic. I just went outside and watered my potted plants and could actually hear birds singing and a soft breeze rustling the leaves. There is the lack of humidity in the air that tells me Autumn is on it's way.


There is a balloon rally this weekend. I enjoy going, but I don't know if I will go today or not, it is a long ride.



Maybe I will just go to the backyard and watch the moon rise and listen to the frogs singing in the pond while the mosquitoes try to drain me of my blood. Vampiric little bastards that they are.


And of course, this is the opening weekend of the greatest Kansas City tradition, the Renaissance Festival. Today will be packed, it will be hot and there are several more weekends to attend. (Probably next weekend, the Highland games are next weekend. Men in kilts. Yes.)

There are tons of things out there this weekend really. Festivals, pow wows, gatherings. Which makes Labor Day a bit laborious for some folks. I hope you get the chance to get out there and enjoy the happenings in your area!

Happy Labor Day
5 Comments
Where in the World is WildnWanton
Posted:Sep 4, 2015 5:58 am
Last Updated:Jul 13, 2017 7:56 am
16075 Views
Keep on guessing. I will try to make these a little less obscure, but since I prefer to travel to obscure places...well it is what it is. I will give you a hint these were taken driving across I-90.

Image 1: A rest area with some interesting information



Image 2: The worst storm I have ever driven through was here. I have tube video of the storm.



Image 3: A famous battle raged along these hills.

7 Comments
I Have....
Posted:Sep 3, 2015 4:34 pm
Last Updated:Jul 13, 2017 7:12 am
16579 Views
...a question?



Would someone explain this points thing to me? The cliff notes version. (I am not too interested more like mildly curious.)
6 Comments

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