The backlash

So I did something difficult last week. Okay, that’s a little dramatic, it wasn’t a huge deal but it was tough for me – I posted my blog on Facebook. Not my personal Facebook, I’m not there yet, but on a private group. It was honestly not my intention, I was asking about pornography and mentioned my blog in response to another poster’s curiosity. Either way, I put it out there.

The positive responses were amazing and unexpected. We all suffer from preconceived notions and, I must confess, I am no exception. I figured that the women on the group would be thoroughly unimpressed. I expected insults and disgust and all things bad. Thankfully, I was (mostly) wrong. I really only had one or two people come out against me (at least out loud). The main woman said many things but the main points were that my blog made me a (quote) “sexual deviant”, I was insecure not empowered, classless and desperate for attention.

Don’t believe my bravado, I am not 100% secure and confident. Getting to that point is a long journey that I might never succeed at – and that’s okay. I’m a lot further along than I was 6 months ago. However, I still let things get to me.

I am a person that avoids confrontation. Why? Because I’m mean and over the years I have realized you can’t take things back. So I responded in the calmest way possible, I stuck to the facts and to broad opinions but I was defensive. I felt like the main commenter was attacking me and not the blog (which, given our history, I still believe to be the case). For the record, I don’t think everyone can or should live my lifestyle. Find what makes you happy, don’t live by the rules society tries to force on you unless they ring true in your heart and do whatever you can to feel fulfilled and satisfied. We need to strive to define our own happiness and I promise not to judge yours if you don’t judge mine. Heck, I promise not to judge yours even if you do judge mine.

So, I touched on a few points and then I made cookies. Whoever said you can’t be a slut and a domestic goddess? But, I’m one of those people that stew. I come up with great comebacks after I have walked away. I’m emotional. I could list the flaws all day. So, as I sat eating my cookie it dawned on me.


What the hell is wrong with wanting attention? Instead of defending my choices I am owning this one. She’s right – I love attention. I’m not an exhibitionist to hide in the shadows after all. I don’t shove myself down people’s throats. I market my blog on sex positive sites (you know where you saw me!), I do not pretend it’s anything that it isn’t. How does one pass off a blog with “slut” in the title as anything but a blog about sex.

Facebook is not my target audience which is why I don’t announce anonymous0slut’s existence on it. I was asked. I put up a disclaimer that clearly stated it was a sex positive blog, complete with naked pictures. I warned people and asked that they not judge. I knew that judgment would happen but I figured that if I told people what was on it the could decide if it was for the blog for them and at the very least keep their opinions to themselves. Don’t click the link if you can’t abide by the rules. I would never blame anyone for their beliefs – I can’t read super conservative blogs without raging. To each his own or, as a friend says, different streaks for different freaks.

If you’re here you do not have to agree with everything I say. Just be open to new ideas and try not to judge harshly. I promise to do the same if you express your opinion. Take what you need from me and leave the rest. Open and honest dialogue is going to lead to both sides learning new things as long as they can both agree that there are angles they might not have considered.

All this to say, I am insecure and I am looking for attention. I’m working on the former by doing the latter. So, Pay attention! If you are here for the pictures, let me know you’re enjoying them. It makes me smile that people (both known and unknown) think I’m hot. If you’re here for the posts, let me know. It makes me smile to know that you care about what I have to say. If you’re here for both, good! I’ll stimulate you anyway I can!

I think that a lot of people like to be acknowledged for the way they look. Why else would you go to the gym? Do your hair? Your makeup? There is nothing wrong with that. It is one side of you, not the only side. Don’t let it get to you. We are told to be humble, that being looked passed is fine. If too many people want you or pay attention to you then you must be a slut. WAIT A MINUTE!! I am a slut.


I’m sorry. I should have owned it right from the beginning. I should have never denied it or sugar coated who I am. That’s exactly what this blog is supposed to be about – being myself. I am working on it. For all of you who have sent me positive notes, thank you. For everyone person who slings around “slut” as an insult there are many more who thank me for voicing their feelings, for making them feel normal. This blog is for them, it’s for us, it’s for everyone who ever felt like this vanilla thing wasn’t 100% them. Thank you.

Shut up and fuck me!

At some point last year I joined one of those free online dating services (feel free to use this against me if I ever try to convince you of my sanity).  My goal was pretty simple – get laid.

I’ve been told my entire life that boys were only after one thing. They don’t want to get to know you. They don’t care about you. They lie when they tell you that they love you. It is all just a big show to get in your pants. I was raised by two generations of women scorned – can you tell? Feel free to donate to my mental health fund, this type of stuff is the tip of the iceberg.

Armed with this valuable insight in to the male psyche, I installed the app, filled out my profile and uploaded a few sexy pictures. Then I sat down for what I thought was going to be a long wait. The responses poured in. It was actually ridiculous. I’m pretty sure that I was getting emails before my phone had finished loading. Those boys! They were looking for one thing alright…but it wasn’t the thing they were supposed to be looking for.

I have never had to answer so many questions about what I did on my spare time. My profile was crystal clear; I was looking for some NSA (no strings attached) sex. I didn’t want to date, no need to waste time and money on a fancy dinner. I don’t need to know your name, what you do or how cute your cat is. I’m sure that of the hundreds of responses I got there were some very nice guys but, to put it bluntly, I didn’t give a flying fuck.

I reread my profile in an attempt to to see where I went wrong. It was a whole paragraph long – just the right length to talk about how great my personal life was and what I was looking for. “I’m not looking to date, I just want to relieve some sexual tension,” it proclaimed. Ok, obviously my profile was not the issue.

My best guess was that the men who came across my profile got distracted by my body and didn’t bother to go any further. These are men after all – easily distracted by boobs and shiny things. So I decided to be a little more explicit in my responses.

Some sample conversations:
Him- hey hows it going?
Me – great you?
Him – good, what do you do?
Me – really not looking to talk. wanna hook up? 😉

Him – hey! I’m Joe Blow from a town near you.
Me – hello 🙂 You’re cute, we should go out!
Him – sure! I love Mexican food…and Italian. Oh and there’s this little place downtown…and I work for the government…and wanna see some pictures of my cat Fluffy? He’s rather cute

Him – hey! Saw your profile and you seem so interesting. What do you do on your spare time?
Me – suck cock

(There were also a few religious nuts, cock shots from around the world and judgmental assholes who enjoy criticizing the way I live my life. That’s a story for another day)

All in all, I had very little luck. Hundreds of guys and only two worth checking out in depth. I had one guy finally come over after talking for weeks. He fixed my car. We talked. He left. Not so much as a kiss on the cheek. Apparently when he told me he could come over to look under my hood he was being literal.

I met another guy for drinks with his wife. Red flag number one – I get dressed to the nines in a sexy dress, boobs out for the world to see, great set of heels, hair all pretty; they are in jeans and sweatshirts. Hindsight is 20/20. Anyway, they were in an open relationship and she travelled a lot for work. Perfect right? His emotional needs were obviously being met. I could come in, get off and leave. He was the most boring human being I have ever met in my entire life. It was painful. When he opened his mouth I had fantasies of putting my finger so far up my nose I could scramble my brain. It’s not just that he didn’t stop talking (I’m a pretty social person) it was that he had nothing to say. Here is a guy who is “living the dream” in an open relationship and I don’t even get a hint of sexuality from him. I was getting desperate though so I invited him out to a club for a drink. No amount of alcohol could convince me to look past how dull he was. He was cute though. If he had been smart he would have kept his mouth shut and I would have been all over that.

Guys – JUST SHUT UP AND FUCK ME!!!! I understand that this goes against everything you’ve been taught. I understand that “nice girls” want you to get to know them first. But, let’s be honest here, every once and a while isn’t sex just for orgasm’s sake wonderful?

You and I are not going to date. You’re not bringing me home to your mother – nobody needs to know about the dirty, perverted things we did behind closed doors (or in the bathroom of the club, or in the back of your car, or on that park bench..) and isn’t that the best part? Doesn’t that tempt you? It sounds pretty darn amazing to me. Sex without strings is sex without judgment and there are few things in life more awesome than that.

So, if you see me floating around the internet looking for a nice hard cock, do everyone a favor —