What? No Valentine’s post from the Preacher’s Daughter?

Damn skippy, and no, I was not out on a hot date last night.  I was not too busy to write a VD post.  I just chose not to.  Why?  Because even though I love Valentine’s Day, I felt there were enough mushy lovey dovey posts being made already.

Instead, I spent my Valentine’s evening with Little Bubba.  Fallen Angel had her sewing class again last night, so it was my night to kid-sit.  He wasn’t the only one I had to take care of though.  My sister decided that Little Bubba deserved a gift for Valentine’s Day.  So while at the Tractor Supply store, she bought him two baby ducks.  Yes, two baby ducks.  One yellow and one brown.  The brown one is the bad one.  I can tell that already.  He tried to jump out of the cardboard box and attack me last night.

So that’s how I spent my VD evening.  With a three-year-old and two loud baby ducks.

Happy humping!



I need a little sugar in my bowl

Valentine’s Day may have been full of confusion and disappointment, but the rest of the week was so much better.  You all were right.  Communication is the key to understanding what the hell people are thinking and avoiding confusion.  Manwhore decided that he was going to move in with his new “girlfriend” and he let me know via text last weekend.  I told him that was fine as long as he paid me back for the deposit on the apartment.  He agreed to that, so overall I had no problem with him moving out.  I’m not particularly fond of having to find another apartment and move again, but I’m sure I’ll find something in this area that I can afford on my own.  I’m sure as hell not moving out of New Orleans now that I’ve met Art.  I want to at least see where it goes and I also like my new job.  So the Whore Parade may be over, but that’s certainly not the end of my new life in the Big Easy.

I went to hear Art play and sing at a local bar Wednesday night.  Yes, he’s a musician too, not just an artist.  He’s a very well-rounded gentleman.  He even dedicated a song to me, Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain.  My eyes are green, not blue, and I wasn’t crying, except maybe from laughter, but it was raining.  😉  He did a great job on it either way.  It’s not very often that I have a song dedicated to me, so I was ready to pounce him after that.  Even though he did tell me to raise my hand so everyone would know who I was, and he announced that I was a huge Willie fan.  That wouldn’t have been so bad except we were in a bar full of mostly gay men, so of course the double entendre was not lost on them.  I’m sure I blushed, but it was all good.  When he told them that I had “a room full of Willie,” which referred to a conversation he and I had when he came over to my place the first time, someone yelled out, “So you’ve been in her bedroom already huh?!”  Everyone laughed.  I don’t mind a laugh at my expense every now and then. 🙂

After he got through performing he sat down with me and a friend of his and we had a drink and talked.  His friend had warned me earlier that Art was to be cut off after three glasses of wine because any more than that and it would be like Art amplified.  I didn’t see how that could necessarily be a bad thing, and it turned out that it wasn’t.  He’s just funnier and hornier.  Those are never bad things.

I was sort of anxious to see his place because he had been to mine but I still hadn’t seen his yet.  I was curious to see how my little starving artist lived.  He had warned me that it was sort of a hole in the wall.  We left the bar and went to his place.  It really wasn’t that bad.  He said he’s renting it from a friend of his who is also an artist.  There is all sorts of artwork all over the walls and it has a very New Orleans hippy feeling to it.  I like it.  It didn’t take us long to end up naked and doing things that would make Madonna blush.  To be completely honest, I Continue reading

Star light, star bright

I was out on my back porch earlier having a cig & a glass of wine.  As I listened to the crickets chirping, looked up at the night sky full of stars, and watched the lightning storm in the distance, I began to think about how my life might be in twenty or thirty years.

Every time I try to imagine myself as an old woman, all I see is me and my little sister living together in my grandparents’ old farmhouse back in Alabama, and driving each other crazy.  I picture my red hair intermingled with white hair, my skin wrinkled, and my smile tired.  I’ll have a unique fashion sense (meaning bizarre ;)) and being a single old woman, I can pretty much do whatever I want and not have to worry about what other people think of me.  I love that part.  Hell, if I want to go to Wal-Mart in my fur coat, pajamas, and flip-flops, then I’ll damn well do just that.

My life is quiet and simple, yet full of family and friends.  Holidays would be like they once were when my grandmother was still alive.  There would be lots of good home-cooking, none of which I would have cooked.  I leave the serious cooking up to my sister.  I would do the dishes afterwards though because she hates doing dishes, as I well know.

My nephew would bring his wife or girlfriend over to visit, and maybe they’ll even have a couple of kids.  My cousins would come over with their kids.  Of course my little brother would come over late after getting off work at the hospital.  He’ll be a doctor by then.  He’s feisty, but smart.  If I’m lucky or blessed or both, then maybe my parents will still be around to enjoy all that with my sister and me.

I never can picture what I’m doing for work other than just this, writing.  Maybe that’s my calling in life.  Then again, maybe not.  LOL  I believe that as long as I have my friends and family around me, I’ll be just fine.

So as I wish upon a star tonight, I hope all of your nights are filled with beautiful star light.

Happy humping!

“Act like you feel it. That’s what the whore’s do.”

What better way to close out February, the month of Love (controlling urge to gag), than with a great quote from one of my favorite comediennes  LaWanda Page.  Most of you probably know her better as “Aunt Esther” from the 1970’s television show Sanford & Son.

“Act like you feel it. That’s what the whore’s do” is advice that probably many women already follow which I find to be a damn shame.  No woman should ever have to compromise her own pleasure and enjoyment.  However, I can completely understand why some women fake orgasms and pretend to enjoy sex in general.  Some men just don’t have a clue about how to please a woman and some just don’t care.  In both cases the answer is communication.  If you aren’t willing to talk to your partner about what each of you like and what it takes to get you both off, then shame on you.

By the way, today is “No Brainer Day” and that’s why I’m writing this post.  This one is definitely a “no brainer.”

Have a great No Brainer Day!

Warning: Not safe for work.  Good thing it’s Sunday and you’re not at work (hopefully).

Scars of Love – To all the boys I’ve loved before

Don’t let the scars of love follow you into your future.

They will heal in time.

You may have a small reminder of what you could have had,

but it’s only there to remind you of what you’ve been through.

They’re not there to torture you about your mistakes.

Only to help discourage you from repeating the same mistakes.

Living in the past only hinders you from savoring your future.

Stay cheerful and optimistic.

Love will come to you.

There’s no need to look for it.

Just keep your eyes open and be patient.

I’m living proof.