The Women Of Instagram


And welcome to 2018.

This post is going to just be me writing down some thoughts based on observation.

I’ve been noticing a lot lately that either I am doing really well in weeding out people that are unsavory from social media OR the unsavory and the perverted have all gone over to Instagram.

Over the past several months, almost the last year, I found myself jumping into the muck and the mire of “following” people that I really had no business following.

I did it though. Sad but true.

Now in my case, my profile/account/whatever is somewhat restricted. I am unable to post any photos. But I am capable of clicking that little heart icon and I can leave a comment to someone else’s photo that has been posted.

Lately though, I’ve been wanting to toss my cookies at the amount of comments that are being posted to women’s photos on Instagram.

Personally I found myself following international women. Women who do not speak English as their first language. Plenty of them have modeling as either their career or serious hobby.

Russia, Eastern Europe, Brazil, and every place in between.

Over and over and over again, its the same old bullshit in the comment section. And these comments are in English. Some of them broken English.

If I had $100 for every comment that I have read along the lines of “marry me!”, I would be absolutely rich!! And I have no choice but to laugh at the broken English proposals of “merry me.”

I may find a photo here and there appealing or attractive. But as I have been saying for years now, that by the time I can come up with a suitable compliment for the photo, the comment section is full of trashy remarks that are repeated up to 20 times PER PHOTO!!

I feel that these are the ones that make MY social/dating life difficult. These women hear/read these trashy comments so many freaking times that by the time I say something NICE, it gets lost.

Being that at the time I am writing this blog post and it being New Years Day 2018, plenty of these women over the past couple of weeks have been posting photos that have been holiday themed. And over the past 2-3 days, more photos have been more personal to everyone because the women have posted photos of themselves with their families.

And by “families,” I mean their husbands/boyfriends/significant others AND/OR their children.

And these perverts who have been following these women for who knows how long, either don’t know how to use the Internet to get a loose translation of the photo caption or are just not paying a lot of attention.

I had stopped counting after finding sixteen different comments to five different women’s photos who had posted an image of them with their other half and finding the comments to be people who were in shock, asking if they were married, or if that was their husband/boyfriend/whatever.

I’ve come up with a theory.

The signs were there all along. I think.

These perverts are just there to look at “hot women” and then vomit their sexual arousal all over the place.

In particular, those who are models are constantly posting new content several times a day. Anything from a photo session or a mirror selfie.

My theory is that if someone has posted photos and it does not appear to be a selfie, then obviously someone else is behind the camera. If the person is not really close up in the photo then someone else is helping out with the photography.

If its not a professional photographer… who else could it be???

It would make sense to deduce that there’s a possibility of a significant other involved.

Therefore there should be absolutely NO SHOCK involved when women post photos of family, particularly during the holiday season.


The Crap Cycle Of Dating To Non-Dating


And I’m back!

I wanted to talk about this cycle I found myself in and get some things off of my chest.

I decided a long time ago that I wanted to try dating again. Even if my mind wasn’t in this whole “idea” of it “being a date” outside of the standard definition.

At the time, I found myself surrounded by female colleagues that I know from one person or another. I would always see them whenever I made the decision by myself to go out to enjoy live music. But it was the ONLY TIME that I would see these women.

The thought had come to me that even if these people said that I was their friend, then why aren’t they acting like it? Male and female.

I have always gotten along better with women than men. It is just the way I’ve always been.

I asked myself over and over again: If we’re friends, then why aren’t we acting like it?

I set out so long ago to try to meet with one person for dinner. Even though she said “yes” over a year ago. Then she said “yes” again, but nothing ever came of it. Only that she would not be able to go out until a certain date had come. That certain date has come and been gone for over a month now!

When I apologized for the second time of bombing, her response was “I just figured you forgot or that something came up.” And at first it seemed as if she was being very forgiving of the repeated mistake. But after a while I started to think “I don’t think it matters too much to her because if it did, wouldn’t she have prodded me for some kind of answer as to why nothing has happened?”

I moved on to the next person in those circles. I said “We hardly see each other because we do not go to the same shows. How about getting tacos sometime?”. To which I received another “yes” but again…. nothing further.

To be fair, “contestant #2” (as it were) as far as I can tell is in a relationship. And I am not out to destroy that.

And I have most recently been told by yet TWO MORE women “We should hang out at a show together!” Over and over again.

My problems are not being turned down. My problem is the follow through. The planning, the scheduling. None of that happens!

My word of warning to anyone who is reading this, is to ALWAYS have a plan to follow through and make sure that it gets planned and actually put down on the calendar.

And even though I may be choosing the WRONG women to “date” I should still be following through with the original plans of hanging out.

I am hoping that in the very near future, I will change all of this. I just hope that if you are reading this and you are stuck as I am, that you take these words to heart and don’t just ask someone out… actually TAKE them out. No matter what it is that you are doing. JUST DO IT.



Misanthropic Mama



I took a little adventure to the south part of town to go to a party. Hoping and praying that a number of particular people would be in attendance. I got squat.

Well, I probably should not say “squat” as there were some there but I could count them all on one hand and still have fingers left uncounted.

The party was awesome. Great music!! I won’t complain about that. my expectations (yet again) were too high and when certain people didn’t show up… that’s when it went to pot.

Five bands that night would rock the night away. And then during the second band, there she was walking in the front door!

Misanthropic Mama (MM).

I met just a few short years ago at a music festival. Each day of the festival she was there and as long as I didn’t go any place else, I would be able to talk to her, get to know her, and hang out with her.

But the problem was the discrepancy of her being any where other than that festival. Two years in a row going to the festival, she was there with the exception of this year, which was disappointing. Yet I survived.

Then she showed up at the party and I was beside myself.

The moment she saw me, she smiled very big and stood there frozen as if she could not believe that she had run into me there.

She and I embraced for what seemed like hours. The one thing that I can always remember about her is that her hugs linger and linger and linger.

But from my elevation, I just cannot hold on to people for forever like that. And most women (people in general) are bending over just to hug me, and eventually their back will tell them to stop.

MM made the attempt to ask questions of me to catch up on how I have been doing and all of that.

I was in disbelief as her hair had grown so much in length since I had seen her last. It was thick and grown past her ass.

She offered to buy me a drink and then we stood there in the back of the club listening to the band that was on stage at that time. I tried not to stare and there were a few times that we caught one another looking at each other but there was no awkwardness to it or anything. A good thing!!

MM and I would move up closer to the stage to have a better view. And she still stood at my side. It is only worth mentioning because that rarely happens.

But it would not last long. Another colleague showed up. Then I was book-ended by women. MM would leave and go somewhere else in the club, if not to the bar. That whole scene is a story for another time.

Towards the end of the night, she told me that she was going outside to smoke some pot. So I told her that I did not, but I would go with her to wherever she needed or wanted to go.

We walked quite a distance away from the club and away from other people until we reached the end of a building and hid behind it in the dark. As she walked in front of me, I just could not believe how long her hair and grown since I had seen her last.

I was close by to her side as she did her business. I found myself running my fingers through her hair, playing with it and complimenting her about it.

Eventually I put my arms around her and she smiled. I told her as I looked into her eyes that she was incredibly beautiful and she bashfully giggled and said thank you.

I pulled her closer and she put her arms around my neck. As her body bent, I leaned in and at the last moment turned my face towards hers. There I was kissing her softly but passionately.

I was successful in this display of deep affection for the first time in my adult life. Being nervous that she would retreat and pull away, but that never happened. There was no apologies, no excuses, no awkwardness of any kind.

As my hands drew up and down her back to her ass and then all the way up to the back of her head and repeating the process, I could taste what was left of the marijuana lingering on her lips.

There we were up against the wall kissing in the darkness until finally she softly pushed her hands against my shoulders to pull away.

I placed my hand on her chest in between her breasts and stomach and told her that I adored her. My hand drew down her torso to her waist and with one finger I searched for her zipper

And right at that moment when things were moving smoothly, some random person came around the corner talking loudly on their cell phone. She backed off real fast and pulled up on her zipper to make sure it was up.

Before anyone could say “Anbesol” she threw her things back into her purse and said “Let’s go back inside.”

It was another hour before she said she was going to go home and she also said that we would meet again soon. But I have doubts.

With her not ever coming out of her home except to go to work, I have no idea when that will be.

Calling Out Long Term Bullshit


For those of you who know me personally, you know that I do my very best to be one of the most respectful men on the planet when it comes to dealing with females. But sometimes there will come a time where I will just lose my cool and all the uncouth things spill forward.

With that, I shall say: Bitches ain’t shit.

And now the explanation.

I am sure that most of you have seen that quotation or meme that rhetorically questions the fact that the people that mean the most in your life are the ones that live so far away. There are some people in my own personal and social life who are the same way.

In my short tenure of socializing via the Internet, I’ve gathered a small collective of people that I would love to meet in person. I’ve had my circles of women that I would totally go for in a more physical manner. But I also know my boundaries, as well as theirs.

So then there’s been one that go back and forth constantly over the last near decade of what she’s willing to do and what she is not willing to do. In other words her boundaries keep shifting.

Now again, I can be respectful of a person’s boundaries. But when they have constantly shifted over the years, its rather difficult to keep up.

Which leads to today’s frustration.

After a very long time of developing what I had been considering a respectful, loving, personal relationship with a woman who many boundaries, and never crossing those lines over time, in addition having that similar ole conversation that we all have with that certain someone at one time or another about the desire and the ability of meeting them one day in person.

Years and years and years of daydreaming and wishing and wanting that to happen. And being so close at times for it to be a reality, I finally came up with a SOLID solution to the situation. One that could definitely bring me face to face with her finally, after nearly a decade of knowing her.

But the shit got way too real for her. I mean… REALLY REALLY REAL!!!

After explanation the idea, the excitement escaped her. And at the end of the night the usual banter back and forth of “I love you.” and “I love you too.” was gone. It became one sided. Suddenly, it was “Good night, my friend.” and nothing more or less.

My problem is that when I realized what she had done, I allowed it to get to me. So now here I am.

It is not cool to lead people on when you are being drawn by your own imagination. People like that need a reality check, in my opinion. And not at the expense of hurting other people’s feelings.

It has been suggested that I cut this woman loose for good, and let her go. What do you think??


The Buyer


Hello dear fiends. Its been too long.

I’ve been doing…. something. But I cannot say what at this time.

But I noticed something really fucked up the other day while jumping back on to all forms of social media for the first time in a long time.

Mutual female friends were being seduced. Many of them, all at once.

One particular male was buying roses for a lot of women that he and I both mutually knew. And not just a few or one dozen. When I say “a lot” I mean A LOT!!!!!!!!!

I will be the first to admit that some of the women who were lavished were ones that I would not mind going after, and I thought to myself that this guy for whatever reason was really on top of things. Even though deep down inside I did not like his idea, he did it and it worked. So I started to let go and accept my defeat and wanted to give him props for what he had done.

Until one of them contacted me privately. I asked how she was enjoying her roses. And she began to break down. She felt used; violated. Not to mention humiliated.

When I asked her why. She said that this guy who had bought the roses wanted something in return. And we all know what that was!!

She gave it to him. And now she’s full of regret.

There wasn’t much that I could say or do. What was done, was done. But she knew better for next time.

I went nuts. I was about to go after him when I saw that his particular numbers in how many people are following him on social media were surprisingly low. This guy appears to be one lonely motherfucker. But a motherfucker with money.

And he has been buying his way into other women’s beds and bodies.

I’m not okay with it. Just because he his lonely, doesn’t give him any fucking right to do what he has done. Lucky for him, SHE proved that she learned her lesson, and asked that I not do anything to him about it.

If I hear that this guy poisons the well again with his antics, I’m definitely coming for him!!!!


Let’s hope the next time I sign on to here, it will be with better salutations.

Rock and Roll Tramp: Game Over

A little more than a year ago, I wrote about a girl that I called “Rock and Roll Tramp” for non-specific purposes. Needless to say that in those long, long months I’ve had the opportunity to know her a little better.

Sad to say that as far as seeing her in person, it is a very safe bet that I have not seen her sober at all. Not once. Every time I have been near or around her, two things are constant: We are at a venue watching live music. And she’s drunk as hell.

After a few times seeing her out in about, I was noticing patterns. She was only there when certain bands or certain people were on stage. Then the truth came full circle in the most ugly of ways.

“Tramp” was always seen with a bass guitar player. Showed up with him, left with him. The very telling moment was when I saw the bass player shove her into the men’s room at a bar once and neither of them emerged for at least a good fifteen to twenty minutes later.

It was at that point I felt that it was over. At least for me.

The odd part of the transition was the next time that I saw her after she had been fucked in the men’s room, I referred to the guy as her “boyfriend” and she flipped her lid. In the most defiant of manner she vehemently denied that’s who he was.

I was not convinced of it.

Over the next year I grew to accept the defeat. I grew to realize that I had in fact asked her out and she accepted the offer but I never followed through on that. And I also grew to accept that even if I had followed through (at that time) she was still with him and therefore I would have considered the event one thing, and she would have considered it something else which is a recipe for disaster. Nothing would ever become of it.

And then a month ago, the incredibly impossible happened. The bass player boyfriend reached out to me one-to-one to discuss his feelings and situations with “Tramp” and I was (but not really) shocked to learn that they were having problems in the relationship. It was four consecutive late night talks about the relationship, including intimate details that I never knew, nor would I have guessed.

She had decided to take a break from their relationship, and he was missing her. I think that they spend nearly 24 hours around each other. And if that is close to being correct, then I’d agree…. it is a messy situation because that is way too much.

Four days later, they were back together at another show. And apparently happily ever after according to the bass player. I’ve never approached her side of things as he probably would be embarrassed to admit that he talked about such things that were private to me.

So a year has gone by, and all hopes of wrestling down the “Tramp” are dead and gone. Nothing will ever come from the two of us. And after all this time I realize…. that’s a good thing!! It is amazing what a person can learn if they just take some time to evaluate.

I am still amicable with both of them. But with her- the way that I relate with her as changed drastically and more safely.

But for the Rock and Roll Tramp? Game over.

Brace Face


It has been quite some time. I have been totally away from the blogsphere.

Lately though, I had been so sick that I was in the hospital and away from home for nearly a couple of weeks.

I’m feeling better. SOOOOOOOO much better. That this tale must be told for the sake of the purpose to this particular corner of the world wide web.

Even being ill, I was able to pull enough strength last night to go out and enjoy some live music with a band that I follow closely nowadays.

The band was fine. Getting better in my opinion. But the highlight of the night was to find a gorgeous young woman with a LBD. So hot!!

She kept her mouth closed most of the time. Like she was feeling insecure about something.

I went on a mission to get this woman to smile. It didn’t take much. I’m pretty good at least getting a woman to smile at least, even if I cannot seal the deal.

She grinned. Then I kept going. Then she smiled brightly. She opened her mouth. And what did I behold but her teeth with braces on them. It had seemed that she was insecure about her looks with the braces on her teeth.

Trust me, there was nothing wrong with the looks of this woman. And the braces didn’t take anything away from her. In fact it ADDED to the sex appeal and attraction that I zeroed in on.

I told her several times in her ear that I thought she was gorgeous. I told her that she had nothing to fear with her appearance. And even if someone did not like it- they could go to Hell.

I could feel the confidence within her grow as she relaxed. I put my arm around her and she quickly snuggled in. With my arm around her waist, I gently placed my hand upon her ass… expecting her to move from it and keep out of my arm’s reach. But she never budged.

I sat there with my arm around this beautiful woman and acted as if her ass belonged solely to me.

There was not a lot of talk from that point on from her or I.

At the very end of the night, just prior to being kicked out of the venue… I asked if I could follow her to her car, to make sure she was safe. She agreed but I could sense some uncertainty.

We walked underneath the interstate and into the parking lot where her vehicle was.

Then she offered to give me a ride home… no matter the distance. I accepted.

But she stored the wheelchair in the front passenger’s seat and opened the door to the back seat just behind the driver.

I was confused but I climbed into the car. Then she followed right behind me.

After some cuddling and some light conversation which was heavy with flirtation, her hand traveled quickly along the inside of my left thigh and into my crotch.

I swiftly leaned into her and started kissing wherever I could land my mouth before it reached her own. Her hand squeezing so hard to my junk.

Several minutes passed by and she whimpered that “she wanted it.” Then her hand really put a death grip on my dick. And I leaned back and she made her way to her desired destination with her mouth all over me… her body leaning into my lap.


All I could think of was the scene from The Sopranos when the dancer/stripper/hooker had gotten braces on her teeth and she was wanting in on a sex party and the guy that was about to get a blowjob said “Easy with those braces.”

But I never said a word. This girl knew what she was doing. It didn’t take long before she climbed on to my lap and slid my throbbing shaft up inside of her and she began to ride me like no tomorrow.

In all my life, believing that getting to this point would take weeks, months… took under an hour in HER own vehicle.

My mind was gone. The only real thing that I could think of was all the traffic up above that was passing by while I was getting laid.

After it was all over, she suggested that I slide into the passenger seat as she went to put the wheelchair in her trunk.

Then she kept her word and gave me a ride home. But I kept a finger up inside of her slit the entire time. If we had to stop at a red light.. I would vigorously shake my finger and make her quiver until the light turned green. I felt it was my duty to keep her hot and turned on and wanting more as we drove the miles to my place.

It worked. Sitting there in the parking lot, she threw back her seat belt and leaned into my lap, going down on me some more.

All in all, everything went as men would dream. And yes, I wished it would happen again. but I have no idea how to find her. I have no name, no address, nothing. I’m going to have to hope and cross my fingers that she attends another show soon.

There was nothing wrong with “Brace Face”… I’d search for her again if I could.

Rock And Roll Tramp: Chapter 2- Booze Hound


She’s back! And oh so sooner than I thought!!

Again at the same venue, this rocker girl was planning on going to another show that I had been looking forward to for months and months and months.

I tried and tried to get her to accompany me to the VIP Party before the show, but she declined and suggested that I sold the second VIP pass on Craigslist.

So there I was, surrounded by friends old and new. The VIP situation fell flat for me but that’s for another time and has nothing to do with the rocker girl.

I sent a text message to check in on her as I was heading out, but she said that she was going to do some “pregamming” before arriving at the venue. I don’t understand the mentality of that, but whatever.

So close to about 11:00 PM the show was just about finished with the second to the last band being on stage rocking it out… rocking ME out!!!

Suddenly, a text message comes to me, asking where I was. I gave my specific location and within moments, there she was. Hugging and touching and caressing… my hands went everywhere and she just stood there talking to me in between songs from the band that was on stage.

The tramp however  came with a group of people and it got me to start thinking that since everyone had seemed to be drinking beforehand that it was a dangerous situation. At least I hope there was nobody driving drunk!!

So she split her time between her friends and her sister at the bar….. and me. She seriously put an effort to it. I have to say that she is the first to do so from saying that she would and then actually doing it.

But of course every time I saw her, she had a drink in her hand.

She’s a vodka woman. But to the hormonal side of me, it was working to my favor. I just didn’t see it yet. Each time she came back to me, the touchy-feely grew more and more intense. Then before I knew it, she had her tongue all over my face and into my ear. Photographs were taken in the form of a selfie. Her tongue visible to my cheek.

Eventually she would leave and then stop by one more time, rubbing and caressing as if she was looking for a shirt pocket. Once she found it, she slipped a pair of earrings into my pocket and walked away. She never said a word.

I ended up with them. Still have them.

The day after, I reminded her that I did have her earrings. And what kills me is that she seriously has no idea how I ended up with them. None whatsoever. It speaks volumes for the tramp.

So as I go along this afternoon, communicating the best I can through social media, turns out that the tramp is not really a tramp, but a slave to the drink. All these heavy petting, rubbing, and caressing is a product of her drinking.

Damnit! Red flags are rising every where.

But we’re still communicating. Still talking. And for once, she’s being the dirty one and I am not. I guess if I wanted to be dirty, I have to buy her some vodka.

This isn’t over……

Rock And Roll Tramp


Ahh, October!

The first true month of fall, changing colors and weathers, football for some, and last minute local bands packing as many shows in clubs as possible before the coming of the holiday approach in November and December.

I cannot say anything negative about it. I just spent Friday and Saturday, back to back, to the same venue to see a handful of bands. A few that I truly like.

And as I continue to go and learn and meet NEW bands, I meet NEW people and music fans such as myself.

Including those who play the part. And by “play the part” I mean dress accordingly to the genre of music that they are there to listen to and support. Females dressing in clothes what they feel appropriate for the night. They know they are going to the bar/club, so you have all kinds.

As I’ve been following a certain new cover band, I’ve noticed one woman in particular that… I would have to admit…. caught my eye.

I saw her twice before this weekend. In her own fashion and style. Short skirts, lace socks, high heels.


Yeah, you get the idea.

I haven’t seen this in.. well… NEVER. Not with my own eyes at least. So yeah, I got hooked. I got pulled in. And hellooooooooooooooooooooo nurse!!!!

But I had to play things cool. I couldn’t allow myself to come across like the weirdo pervert that I was thinking in my head.

And as always, I never approached her. I never said anything to her. I barely could smile if she caught me looking in her direction. Those first two “meetings” were basically a bust.

Then this past Friday night came along. And I was hanging out with a friend, and there she was with my friend. I walked outside with both of them and the girl finally just looked up at me and introduced herself.

Holy crap!! Look at that. I didn’t have to do anything. She’s making the move.

Game On.

But that was pretty much the end of it on Friday evening.

I spent the rest of Friday night and Saturday morning trying to get someone mutual to tell me more about her since I didn’t know but her first name. Sadly, nobody was willing to dish anything on her.

Still, Saturday evening was even better. More interactions. In fact, the moment she saw me Saturday, she came up to me, hugged me, kissed my cheek with a full on lip plant, and then started talking to me.

Throughout the night, she and I would chat here and there. We were going to be there all night long, so I didn’t leech on to her. Something my teenager self would have done.

Being silly from across the room is easy. Getting up close and personal and trying to talk while a heavy metal band is screaming… is a little more difficult.

And then couth just flew out the door. She was bending over and looking over her shoulder and posing like she belonged on the cover of a copy of 1950’s PLAYBOY. Her ass was sticking out and before I even realized what I was doing, both hands were full. One hand on each ass cheek. And the grab ass game began.

It didn’t just happen once. Or twice. It happened periodically the rest of the night. Even though I stayed in front of the stage to get a good view of the show, she was the one that kept standing next to me and then leaving to go some place else or get a drink. But a little bit later, she’d return and the games happened all over again.

She would seem to bump into me, but then stick on me like glue. An ass cheek rubbing up and down my shoulder and forearm. She kept leaning in to me more and more.

Finally after making a mime motion about her being as hot as a campfire, she was obviously misunderstanding what I was attempting to mime. So she pushed her chest out against, believing that I was copping a feel. I turned my head to see who was watching and then the next thing I know, she volunteered me to check her for a lump. I’ve never heard of this in all my life. She walked into the palms of my hands when I was not paying attention. And she just allowed it.

This kept going on and on throughout the night. I then left and we hugged. She said “Good night. Be safe.” and then I left.

I don’t know when I’ll see her again, but I think I figured out which bands will draw her to the club. I still don’t know much about her… other than her first name, she lives in town, and according to a couple who just broke up, both people said she’s not all there in her head.

But there will be another time. For sure.

I’ve not heard from anyone that she’s complained about what happened. So I’m going to raise the bar on it and see where it takes me.

Wish me luck!!!!!

Fancy Comebacks To The Age-Old Questions


I often come across people who are going to have questions about my life, my issues, and my possibilities. But I think that other than the usual stuff that I hear on a daily basis (literally, daily) is the question of sexual functionality.

This question comes 99% of the time from women. I cannot say for sure why that is.

But I get the question all of the time of whether or not I am capable of getting an erection. Or even better and more direct, the question of whether or not I can perform and have sex.

Earlier in life, I used to take offense to such inquiries. I mean after all, my sex life is MY private business and not the business of anyone else. As I grew older, I took less and less offense to the question and likened it to the innocent question of a child when they would ask “What’s wrong with your legs?” or “How come you can’t walk?”.

Ever since my move into the Lone Star state, it has been my very own SISTER who has come to me with the question. In which… #1- That’s gross. #2- It’s not actually my sister asking the question, but rather someone too timid, shy, or scared to ask me personally so they ask HER to ask ME whether or not I can have sex… or get a boner. Whatever.

I’ve constantly replied to my sister that she should respond by telling them that “I’ve never heard anyone complain.”

However my sister won’t do that.

So I go back into that stuck position of what to do or what exactly to say when the question “arises” (excuse the pun).

The agreement came between my sister and I that people should either ask me personally or just keep their nose clean. That way she’s not stuck in that gross middle-man position.

But for the rest of the world, what am I going to do??

It is true. You won’t hear ANY negative feedback from those I have been intimate with. And it is actually okay and normal to wonder about such things… unless you’re just having some sicko fantasy of trying to change a person in a wheelchair into a sex fiend.

SHAME ON YOU! And what’s your name and telephone number??


So then the question came to my attention today for the first time in a long time via social media. They admitted that they were nervous about asking (which they always are) and realized it was none of their business. And that’s just par for the course when someone actually earns enough testicular fortitude TO ask.

And for the record it was in fact another female who was asking. I had to think about it for a few moments before responding.

wink I think I’ve come up with the remedy for the female question.