SLIDER

Meet Hope

Hope is my sister's cat.  I know, it's like we're forever taking in cats of my sisters.  First there was Sufi, and now Hope.  Hope belongs to my sister, Christine.  She'd originally been found as a kitten abandoned in a box in an alley and left to die, but by happy chance, she came into my sister's life and has been with her for the past two years. When Christine moved to Florida, she couldn't take her baby with her, so when my brother Mick moved in with us, Hope came along, too.

At first there was some friction between 2 year old Hope and 7 year old Isabelle, but now they play quite well together and both love to look out the windows at the leaves and the birdies or just lay in the sun.  I do have to give the credit for their friendship mostly to Hope, who persisted in trying to get along with Isabelle, even when Isabelle sat there growling for 45 minutes straight.  I think Hope just wore Izzy down with her cuteness and playful ways. Hope never seemed to give up on the idea that her and Isabelle could be friends and now they are. Not exactly BFF's, but they're buddies. It helps that Hope has her room (Mick's room) and Isabelle has her room (mine and Shawn's room) and they respect each other's space (mostly).
So this is Hope, the newest addition to our family, as she enjoys the first truly nice, sunny and moderately warm day of the year.






Movies From Back in the Day: The Dad Collection

Parents have different ways of bonding with their kids and those kids hang on to different things that meant something to them.  Today I'm going to talk about my dad.
My dad is not a golf dad.
He is not a business-suit dad who irons his clothes.
No, he's a doer, with hard, tough hands from 40 years of factory work.  A man who cashed in his vacation days to pay for his young daughter's ear operations.  When I first saw this -


I wasn't  "Hey, what an intense scene!  Great acting!"  I was more like "OMG - Dad?"  He's a teddy bear, but a hard-ass teddy bear.  He's the man who will go out of his way to buy the special expensive conditioner his daughters just have to have - and yet once accidentally put his fist through a glass coffee table.  The kind of man who cleans his fingernails with his buck knife and uses his barrel arms to clap his roughened hands onto the back of a boy I bring home as he says, "Come on young man, let me show you my gun collection."  
Yeah . . .  that guy?
Is my dad.
So suffice to say my bonding with my dad didn't really involve the typical Hallmark-card scenario.  No, we bonded over cheeseburgers, chocolate milk, and action movies.
So here are a few of my faves:
First, the ultimate in father-kid entertainment fun:








Admittedly, my sister was a bigger fan of Predator than I was, but I still enjoyed it.  Not as much as Commando, but it was watchable.
By now you've sensed the trend, so let's finish off the Arnold category with my other favorite:



Can we please take a moment to recognize this movie takes place in 2017?


Finally, something a bit different than the others.  This movie is more recent and my dad, brother, and I went to see it in the theater together and I wasn't thrilled to be seeing it, but then was surprised how delightful I found it.

Furry Biscuits




So today I'm going to talk about genitalia and it's furriness.  Some people may prefer to sit this one out for various reasons.  Here is fair warning to leave now if you absolutely want nothing to do with this post.  I promise I won't be offended.



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Okay, so for those of us who are still here, let's dive in, shall we?
I've had opinions on this subject for a rather long time, and I've considered writing about it for some time, but only recently did I decide that you know what? - I am not going to be ashamed to address this topic.

So . . . this came up in my facebook feed, shared by a female friend.



So...I'm not into the Brazilian or Hollywood look. I'm sorry if this is more information than some of you feel like you need to know about me, but in fairness, I did warn you.
Anyway . . . why am I not so into it?
So many reasons. 
There are times that maybe you want to experiment, have a little fun.  Cool.  Maybe you're feeling nostalgic like you want to reenact Christina Aguilera's "Dirrty" video, in which case a landing strip might be a good idea.  (Also: condoms.  Just sayin'.)  I'm not saying there is no call for fun or experimentation, because there very much is. 
(And in the spirit of full disclosure, the answer is yes, I have tried out the totally bare look in the past.)


But increasingly, the full-on Hollywood (or at the very least, a Brazilian), is the expected norm as if having pubic hair is a freakish mutation brought on by eating too much chocolate.
And believe me - I am definitely not calling all women to abort operation: landscaping and go full-on '70's porn fro. (Although if that's your preference, by all means. . .)

So where does this come from? I don't know.
Maybe blame the porn industry? I certainly blame the porn industry for (many) men thinking anal is 
1.) automatically sexy and 
2.) naturally not only a part of every woman's repertoire but that she super enjoys it and is just gagging for it all the time.
Because: no.
Some women yes. Some women love anal. Some women not so much. 
But either way, it should not be an automatic given.

And nor should the expectation of having a completely hairless vagina.  Some women may just naturally enjoy it, and that is perfectly fine. Many of my friends cite just liking the way it feels, easier maintenance, and multiple sexual reasons.

But not all of us love it.
It is a choice, and should not be an expectation. Keeping your pubic hair - even liking it - is no more shameful than the choice to remove it.

Of course I'm not saying all guys feel this way. Of course they don't.  There are plenty of guys (and girls) out there who get turned on by bushes and bushes of hair - if they could have sex with Sasquatch the Urban Bushwoman, they totally would and it would be the best thing ever. Furries exist for a reason.

Again, the key is preference, choice. 
Not expectation.

If a guy claims that having hair down there is a deal breaker - or, they'll have sex, but they're not going down on you - this man does not deserve to have sex with you at all.  If he can't appreciate a nicely trimmed, clean, whisker biscuit in all its glory - don't give him any access to it at all, damn it! I'm not saying women should use sex for power at all - but - he (or she) should be happy to have access.... Not us being grateful that he would deign to sleep with someone who - gasp! - dared to keep some of her natural protective fur. 
(Incidentally, the same holds true for men removing their pubic hair.) 

Or, conversely, you could give the old quid pro quo in that if he expects full time maintenance, then he'd better be willing to reciprocate . . . because there are two main ways to do landscaping: waxing and shaving. There are problems with both.  While waxing would be the preferred method, it is quite expensive and the pain factor alone would be enough to put some women off. Shaving, on the other hand, is relatively inexpensive, however - keeping your lady taco nearly to completely whisker free is not only time consuming - but seriously - when that shit grows back, it is not fun.  It itches. It chafes. It doesn't feel right.  It's not soft and fluffy, as pubic hair should be. It's like leg stubble in your panties. And I've googled images of pubic razor burn; it's not a pretty sight. So if someone insists you be consistently shaved bare or nearly bare - I believe that man (or woman, as it were) - should in turn be shaved or waxed to their own standard in return.  

If the tables were turned and every man who insisted a woman be bare had to maintain the rigorous standards they expect, the issue of total hair removal as expectation would quickly become a non-issue. Sure, he may think it's fun for a little while, or for the occasional experiment, but wait until he gets some razor bumps or nicks on his balls because he's not getting head if there's a single hair present. Or better yet, let him pay to have someone pour hot wax on his boys and rip it off and see how long that lasts. 
(Side note: I've been noticing for a while that the male version of Brazilian is quite the thing and...WTF? I mean, dude. Trim 'er up, ok? Great! Awesome! And I get why they are doing it in porn. But...again I say WTF?) 
Suddenly hair not such a problem anymore, is it boys?  A little basic hedge trimming seems much more reasonable?  

And again, I must emphasize that not all women want to keep it. And not all men prefer the bare look. There is no 100% -everyone-likes-this-look or feel. It would be unfair to assume that. From internet comments, a lot of men are creeps who do and feel they are entitled to expect it. (Then again...internet.) 
However, I haven't conducted any informal surveys among my male friends like: "Yeah, I was disappointed in the most recent Chili Peppers album, too.  By the way, what are your thoughts on pubic hair?" (Cue me getting out my little pencil and notepad.)

And finally - yes - I do believe that while experimentation and fun is great and natural and exciting - if someone is ONLY turned on by a bare, hair-free vagina, then yes, this person has a problem.  It is not natural for a grown man to only be turned on by vaginas that look like they belong on pre-pubescent girls.  It IS creepy, okay?  Pubic hair - kept clean and basically neat and trimmed - is one of the physical hallmarks of adulthood and can, and should be appreciated as such.  

So I close with this: 
remove it if you want to, but not because you have to.
If you want to rock a full bush, more power to you.  
But most of all, keep it yours and don't let anyone else's preferences be the deciding factor.  Because just like there is a guy (or girl) out there who will adore the shit out of your personality just the way you are, there is also a guy (or girl) out there who is going to love the hell out of your parts exactly as you present them.

Cats Are Weird: Zero Impulse Control

Self-control is definitely not Isabelle's strong point.  She gets an idea in her head and goes with it.  For instance:

every.single.time.

And
We have to use a plastic slider to child-proof all our closet doors . . . 
. . . because somebody kept sticking her paws underneath and pulling the doors open, getting inside and creating havoc like chewing holes in my favorite scarf, winter hats, and eating out the thumbs of gloves.  

And this is why with zero human children, my house is mostly baby-proofed.  














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