Sex advice articles

Fuck them. (Har, har, har.)

There is no solid, concrete, fail safe way to please someone, male or female. Really, I believe the only sex advice articles should cover things like safety, hygiene, and maybe some pointers on what not to do (i.e. acting out private fetishes out the door). Instead of articles, I think discussions or forums would work far more effectively. It's unfortunate that many people feel strange talking about sex, whether vanilla, kinky, or romantic. Articles are too general; the wording can be vague, the directions even more so, and sometimes they're just flat out wrong.

Whenever I read those "Make her scream in 10 minutes" sorts, I cringe a little. Since I've read so many of these articles, I have permanent lines on my face mapping out the cringey expression. It might be because I'm a speshul snowflake, but I'd like to think it's because they never fucking work.

I come into contact with these advice articles because I cannot, for the life of me, get off. They provide generic how-to blather that helps -- and I'm estimating here -- exactly no one, but what does it matter to them? They got the hits they need their advertisements up, maybe even got a few clicks on them, and they're still in business.

Consider me infuriated.

Youtube and vlogging

I've been saying this for a few months, but I really would like to make videos on my life. Not in any meaningful sense, enough to vent and have it on the internet forever and it'll be my life. That's it.

I'm not so sure I'd show it to anyone, this hypothetical channel, but maybe it'd be worth it. My lover seems to think I've got "anger management problems", and youtube seems like a productive outlet. Y'know, sorta productive.

Woosh like lightning!

I would be posting to tumblr if it had any sort of privacy settings, because frankly I don't want people knowing how I think, what I write, or what I like to do during sexy times. Really, I like blogs to be like diaries. That doesn't mean I'll ever call this a diary, but its secrecy must be maintained.

Basically, I cover only a few topics: sex, boys, games, and sometimes more important things. And right now I'm feeling like sex should be covered.

I've had a consistent problem getting off. "Consistent" as in consistently failing every time. I'm not really sure how I should feel about it, but it's pretty easy to describe how I do feel: fucking miserable. No, it's not a terribly big deal, but it's like I'm missing out on something. It doesn't help that I don't think it's ever going to happen for me.

Fuck sex it's gay.

It's hard being a ninja

Not a literal ninja, of course, but a figurative one.

I'm feeling dense. I thought how I meant the word "dense" was simple, but sometimes it's nice to have it explained. In this context, "dense" or "thick" is one word for two emotions that are mixing. In most every case, it's usually a bitter sadness and stupidity or lethargy. Like being depressed but too dim to care.

It's not uncommon to feel like this, for me at least. There isn't a way to get around it, either, so it's best to just let it blow over.

But the whole point of this blog is basically diary-ish in nature, so what the hey! Today I'm feeling dense because I feel like the only mentally stable person in the family, and I'm not that stable. My uncle has bipolar disorder and when off his meds, is quite nightmarish. He alternates between "I'm going to kill you" and "I'm going to kill myself," which leaves everyone on edge. Strangely, I've never seen him have an up or a high from his disorder, but I'd rather not see any of it. That doesn't mean I don't want to help him or whatever, it means the exact opposite. At some point, though, I realized both my uncle and I are the family's blacksheep, to be chastised and ridiculed.

Yes, boo-hoo-woe-is-me. While we're there, my grandmother will not talk to me about anything serious. For example, I've been living here a few months and my cousin kept bringing up food stamps and how me and my uncle should apply for them and all that. My cousin has very little to do with the goings on in the house, so I really didn't listen to her. In fact, I ignore her on principle. She's a selfish, childish manipulator, whether she realizes it or not (and how could she not, really?) whose main concern is how others can help her; when she doesn't get her way, she throws a high pitched hissy fit and threatens to take away contact with her and/or her son (which is particularly scary for my grandmother); she uses others' emotional connections to her in the worst possible ways.

Oh, yes, but food stamps. My grandmother didn't mention any of it to me, not once, ever. But of course, she talks about it to everyone in the family besides me, so I get to hear everyone's indignant, down-their-nose rantings about how "I'm inconsiderate" and "taking my grandmother's care for granted."

Ugh! Where to I begin. I could say, safely, that my grandmother's the only person I sincerely care about. Everyone else feels like an obligation; I care about them because they're my blood. I didn't want to come home. I wanted to keep working my shitty job so long as I could be as far away from people like my cousin as possible. She convinced me that it'd be best if I just came home.

I regretted it immediately, and still do. I left this place for a reason. I left because I didn't want to have my every action analyzed and sent to everyone in the mailing list, such as my cousin and mother. I want to be alone again.

Obligatory introduction

Don't you just love to hear the rantings and ravings of a young, white, female liberal gamer? Well, you should. My opinions are important, unique, and revolutionary!

Meh, maybe not, but that's not going to stop me from delivering. <3