Drink Me

Crickets sing a lonely ballad

I’m suffocating under cotton sheets

Going under for one last breath

Every time I inhale


Heavy is the heart who’s mother’s eyes are dilated

Weary is the soul who’s daughter has no home


For 44 years I’ve wandered this wasteland

Giving birth while husbands die

Breastfeeding monsters with angel eyes

and demon wings that rustle


I loved your tragic orphan story

I was falling in love FINALLY!

That is tragedy in itself


I am my own God

and I forgive my own wicked and silly deeds

Thus any tragedy incurred will not matter

When it’s all over

When my wanderings are laid to rest

And I can sleep the sleep of Magdaline

Of Eve…


Until then

The child in me takes joy in Fret

And the woman in me lusts after your English skin

And the fool in me waits for days

hour by torturous hour

for my phone to let me know

You’ve finally written.

To have you look at me with Damaged eyes

That know only love

For the woman that left.


The truth in that

Shatters against the wall of my heart

Slicing it to pieces.

I only half mind

For picking it all up

Will give me something to do

With all these unwanted days

That are so stale and tasteless since you vanished


Good God I’d love a swig of that “Drink Me” bottle right now

Shrink down into the size of an Atom

And build myself up again

Into an even stronger woman

Who never wanted nor needed

Anything from you




Been a long time…

I have not been on this site in a long time. It seems I’ve lived an entire lifetime since I last posted.

I had a bit of a nervous breakdown with mom being there with me.

I packed whatever I could get into my Nissan cube and I just left.

I tired starting my business up in the next county over but mom found out where I lived so I moved again.

That’s not the only reason but it’s one of many.

I have been living with some friends, renting a room and grooming in the garage.

I miss privacy

I miss being naked

I miss red bean buns

I miss my life

I do have a nice friend whom I see very regularly now. Didn’t think I’d ever date on a regular basis again and he’s BLONDE with BLUE eyes, if you can believe that.

I’ve got 6 months to save up to get us a place. It’s rained non stop in Georgia. Every day it rains I loose three hundred dollars. Cold hard truth. I have not paid a car payment in two months but the insurance and everything else is up to date. I am short on money. So very very short. But I am away from that crazy pill popping mother of mine even though I had to pretty much run for my life.

My sister is having her labor induced Sunday and mom will be there. I am too much of a coward to go up there. Or I am too wise. Either way,  I stay off facebook and it’s been quite a relief, not being at my family’s beck and call when it comes to mother. I gave her the better part of my life. I have done enough.

Its time for me to focus on MY daughter now and making sure she does not end up like mom. She needs my focus and support and a healthy place to live. I don’t know where that will be yet but I have faith something will come together. I get up every day, I wash my face and get dressed, and I go to work. That’s all a woman can do.


Admittedly, I AM a Narcissistic little twit. It would be interesting to think that is all that is involved in my having to be exceedingly careful what I wish for.

In the past month I have been blogging in my fetish social media group how I love caretaking, how I miss it, and simply adore cooking for and feeding someone, cleaning them, etc. . I MEANT in  a romantic loving way! Because I was not specific enough mom falls from the sky and lands in my bedroom like the fucking witch in The Wizzard of Oz.

I’ve recently also spoken of my love of Asian men, I do have a bit of a fetish in my desire to recreate the intensity of my marriage with Ed where anything and everything was shared and nothing was taboo.

From the sky falls a black-eyed Asian, adorable lips, square chin, a bit shy and reserved and MARRIED.


One would think when I went for my Master level in Reiki I’d be not only more prepared for the reality of be careful what you wish for….but I’d be more in tune with what it is I really need and want.

Ok God, send Mother back where she came from. I’ll take the married Asian If and only IF he suits my needs and purposes, makes me feel good and it’s a lovely mutual exchange that hurts NO one.

I believe in the power of marriage. It outlasts sexual deviancy if you allow it to. The whole monogamy thing is fairly new. I wont cast my pearls before swine, look it up yourself. Point being, there are reasons men have gone outside the marriage bed since the dawn of time and there are reasons why wifes are GLAD they do.

I happen to be one of the ones they run to. And I don’t want them for myself. I want my own husband. Not yours. Apparently I have to be VERY specific now being a Reiki Master EXACTLY what I want. I hate to do that though. Seems very much like cheating.

Here’s a rough draft

Of some sort of Asian descent so he’ll have those slanted black eyes that make me MELT

KInky, not more nor less than I. Is that even possible? I don’t want to know.

Someone who is able to come to me at least four times a month and one of those times needs to be at least 24 hours long.

Someone who is well read, intellectual, a deep thinker, but not in a Jeffrey Dahmer sort of way.

Someone who wants to be married for life, to share all of life’s freakery and not be afraid to really lay it out there with me. But it wont hurt anyone. See how I’m trying to add all the fine print?

Someone who is able to and wants to have traditional passionate sex with me to break up the monotony. Kissing is a must no matter what. He will brush his teeth and have a clean pleasant mouth. The teeth don’t have to be perfect. Mine are not. I just want to enjoy the kiss.

Someone who will not fall apart, attempt suicide or murder or leave me should I want to play outside the bedroom with someone else in a fetish way only. I could be vanilla sex faithful forever, but kink, I could not promise that.

NIce rough draft, I think.

Now that I’ve laid that out on the line, I conscience will my mother back to her side of Oz from whence she came!


It’s so hard to believe it’s only been 5 days since my mother plopped her opiate withdrawn ass on my couch and declared my home now hers.

Is there not some law against this?

Her primary care physician sent us to the hospital stating that there was no way mother could take care of herself on her own without medical intervention to help her complete her opiate detox and physical therapy to get her back on track again. Mind you, Mom had me grab a wheelchair to bring her in there and she hung her head off to the side and maybe even drooled on herself a little while we were there. She missed her call as an actress.

The hospital kept us for hours and did a full cat scan. The doctor tells us the cat scan shows no reason she should be admitted into the hospital. He gave her a shot and sent her home.  I hear this and I wonder how much of the whole thing is hype. I’ve lost hundreds of dollars since she’s been here because I can’t work, and now I have a GOD AWFUL flu from being in and out of the hospital with her.

If I don’t work how does she expect me to care for her. I can’t even lie down without her taking great thrill at having me get up to bring her some menial thing such as a glass of water or a book. Mind you, she’s only 63, and the doctors have said the only thing wrong with her is opiate withdrawal, there’s nothing showing on the cat scan to give cause to alarm. Yet I had one bottle of prescription Motrin from when I broke my ribs and she took them ALL in the 5 days she’s been here.

So yes, I feel justified in my resentment. I feel totally ok with my imagination taking the wheel as I envision dumping her and her bags back off at her house and driving away.

She’s trying to get me to get her into a new pain clinic, using me as the daughter of a poor elderly disabled woman who needs pain meds to live. OMFG.

I want my house back. I am so disenchanted I am fully prepared to pack what little I have and run away.

Bean Sprout Soup, Sigh

There’s not enough hours in the day.

I had the best morning. I woke up next to a warm fuzzy guy for the first time in months.

Yep guys, I went out with someone. I’ve seen him before, and being a glutton for punishment, he kept trying even after I said I wasn’t into it.

I’m glad I gave it a second go.

It went pretty damn well until I jumped up from a hot making out scene and went tearing through his room looking for his pants. He said “Why do you need my pants?” And I said “I’m looking for your belt” and he sat up and exclaimed “What? No!” and I laughed and explained to him I didn’t want to hit him, silly, I just wanted to wrap it around his wrists. This brought even more of a reaction “No! I’m good. No belt, ok?” And it was ok. I found out that I could have perfectly hot sex without tying someone up, down, or upside down.

NOT my ideal, but I took what was given, right? And I am grateful.

He has 3 jobs, is way to busy to just show up at my door, and he excuses pretty much everything I do or say because he thinks I’m crazy. It’s great. And he didn’t call me today. I LOVE that shit. He sent a video tonight via text of a band I’d never heard of. I love that kind of lack of communication that says so much more than a boring annoying phone call. I did not have time for romantic revisits of the previous night via phone.

I had to go get Mom out of the hospital. Her pain clinic cut her off because she was taking too much of her Roxi’s.

She had a whole month to find a new doctor but instead she decided to go through her months worth of Roxi’s and (I wont spell these right probably) nurontin, colonipin, soma and something else I forgot the name of. She partied like a rock star and two weeks later was out of everything. She was then left with the ordeal of having to explain to a new doctor why her blood would be so elevated with drugs and how she’s out of meds already. So she just hid under her covers and puked and shit on herself for a week. I was out of town visiting my daughter when my sister called asking me to take mom to the hospital. Thank God. And then I decided to spend the night with my friend. I could not face going back to my home town and having to choose whether to help Mom or not. So I went and got my Fuck on. Bad daughter, yes.

But I had a good time.

And he didn’t ask questions

And I was able to come home, unload my bags, go pick up Mom from the hospital and take her home without him calling me 10 times like some guys do.

I bought all the ingredients to make Black Bean Noodles tonight but by the time I got home and got things sorted out there was only time for Bean Sprout Soup. Quick, filling, easy, and cheap too.

I’ll have Black Bean Noodles Thursday.

Mcarthur Park Bad Girls

When I was 8 I heard a two songs that made me pitch a fit for my first album.

One made me feel powerful and one broke my heart, but I didn’t know why.

I’d listen to the album over and over and sing my little heart out.

The songs pulled from me emotions that I knew were to someday come and I was frightened yet intrigued by the pain that was in store.

Life warns us about stuff, ever realize that?

After Ed there was Prison

For 9 years I had more cold sex than love.

For 9 years love turned on it’s heels and ran for the border.

I don’t Pity Party. Trust Me, I made do.

I even had some truly remarkable romances that made me think I had love

But what can really replace love?

Can Sex? Power? Money?

I don’t know. I can’t remember anymore.

I’ve fought the real stuff for so long, keeping it in my Box with Ed’s hair and memories.

I miss that Rat-a-tat-tat at my heart’s door

And I’m freaked…really freaked that I may not be able to answer should it happen

Because Ed won’t let me.

I know this. He was my love, but He is dead, and that box has done me more harm than good.

His spirit has not cared who I fucked as long as my heart was in the box with his hair.

But I put it back in my chest recently

I let a man come over this week and kept my hair down trying to drown out Eds whispers

I love you I love you damnit Hello Hello

I cooked for him

And Ed raged

I kissed him

And Ed bled

“Someone left the cake out in the rain. I don’t think that I can take it, cause it took so long to bake it, and I’ll never have that recipe again.”

I’ll never have that recipe again


The Virgo with the brown hair that swings

Has arms large enough to wrap around me.

Straddling both sides of the fence, he says,

Is a good place to be.

He’s been there, and knows.

“Beware! Beware!” warns the wasp

“Those Virgo Men get you everytime!”

The feminine Virgo considers the advice

Tilting her swollen heart sideways and putting it back

Into the Titanium box.

“I’m sure you’re right” she says

“I’m sure I’d be a fool

Those Virgos ARE a weakness.

Ask the Dragon,

If you can”


The Virgo Dragon went up in flames like the Phoenix

He always said we’d Burn

I’m just not ready, don’t think I’ll ever be

To embrace the fire’s licking wrath.

I’m stuck here on Earth

Wandering aimlessly without him

I think I am the last

He shoulda told me, the bastard.

It’s been a while

Since anyone has licked the wound of my soul.

No need for sentimentalism now.

The Virgo Dragon went up in flames

He sent me a Christmas Card before he left

Guess he was expecting me to follow.

Look who’s grinning now!

But only sometimes.

Most times I just cry


I found myself  frightening the neighbor enough to make her run inside this morning.

We have to laugh at ourselves as we age guys. What’s the point of being depressed about it.  Instead of being angry I get tickled. And apparently my joy is a horrific thing to an outsider looking in

I have insomnia.  I’ll be up for days on end and then come crashing down, sick as a dog. .

I and two of my children have ADHD but the medications for that make us so sleepy we can’t function. Adderall will have my daughter knocked out and drooling in an hour. It was the only medication ever perscribed to her that actually did what it was supposed to do, but I rarely gave it to her because I couldn’t keep her awake for class.  When I was younger, 2 or 4 hours sleep was enough to rejuvenate my brain for another day or two.  After 40 it’s become a thing I am pretty sure is killing me.

I have no appetite at all, just this awesome energy that makes me SUPER creative.  The stuff that comes out of that wakefulness brain acts like a bull who has sat around for months waiting to burst from the gates of my brain.

I write.  I come up with marketing ideas for my company that always work out brilliantly. I write thesis statement after thesis statement on economy, education, tax reformation, prison and parole reformation, taking prison industry jobs and giving them back to the american tax paying citizen and using those prisoner hours to actually teach them what their responsibility is to be a free citizen and then give them the tools to follow through.

The art that comes out during that time is a fleeting thing. I can try to be available to it and reap the benefits of giving it a medium or it will be gone and I will only have faint shadows of the ideas that just yesterday were so powerful. It’s happening as I write. My vocabulary is dumbing down. Oh well. It was fun. I’ll have to go back and read all that I posted in the past three days I’ve been awake and see what an ass I’ve made of myself.

Back to the story of scaring the neighbor

After a  4 day wakefulness period when I crash and finally wake up I can barely breathe because of coughing. It feels like the insides of my lungs are dry as a desert and every little inhale leads to coughing fits.  I can barely walk or hold my chopsticks because of the muscle tremors. My eyeballs do this weird thing where they move back and forth ever so slightly so its hard to focus. That’s what happened this morning

I finally crashed around 5 am from what I think was a 4 day wakefulness period. Today I slept from 5 to a little after 11. I did NOT want to wake up but I am supposed to have a date tonight for the first time in months.

I got up to walk the dog. I made a quick cup of coffee and threw on a coat, coughing my brains out all the way. We get outside and the neighbor across the street is sitting on her front porch talking on the phone. I raise my cup to her and say Good Morning!  I tell the dog to hurry go Potty. I’m freezing.

I take a sip of coffee forgetting to be careful inhaling and it leads me into a coughing fit in which I double over, the coffee spewing out of my mouth. The neighbor thinks I’m puking. I just cough and cough and my glasses fell off my face and landed in the coffee. The lady across the street thinks my glasses just fell in puke. She watches me pick them up and put them back on my face. I hear “Oh my GAWD” She jumps up and runs inside. This is the best day ever. That shit was AWESOME!   I am standing in my NIGHTGOWN, with flip-flops on, and a very expensive cream leather jacket with a fox fur-lined hood, hot pink hair standing all over my head in fucking December in the front yard in the heart of the hood, frightening the neighbors. If you’d seen where I was standing in December two years ago you wouldnt believe it was the same person.

I laugh which throws me into another coughing fit. The dog stares at me indifferently as she takes a shit.

I’ve only been blogging for about two weeks I think, but it feels really good to have some unknown someone to share these precious moments with.

I canceled the date because this one is going to take me at least 2 days to recover from. He’s going to be coming here. We are going to watch Malificient because I’ve been anxious to see it. I told him under no circumstances under the sun am I going to have sex with him and to prove my point I am not going to shave. It’s a Sampson thing. ROFLMFAOslappingtheground  As long as it is there I am protected and strong. Once it comes off I am subject to the idiocy of my estrogen clock telling my brain to spit out another baby before it’s too late. Our brains have no idea we had our tubes cut tied and burned. It just knows it wants dick NOW so it can have a baby to nurse “NOW hurry hurry hurry, you dried up old bat, there’s not much time left!” That’s what my bio clock tells me.

I crack myself up this morning.

I gotta get off this confessional box and clean the house. A real human is coming over. I’m gong to let him in the front door and am not even going  to make him beg.


The older I get the more I am approached by men under 30. What’s up with that? I don’t mean occasionally either, I mean almost every time I leave the house and daily on my social media.

I tried the cougar thing this past year. I thought I could get out some pent up depression by fucking it away. My daughter had been admitted to a residential facility and the quiet of the house was deafening. I was so depressed and full of angst. I just wanted something to make me not think so I wouldnt resort to drinking. I didn’t realize the serial dating was just as self harming as drinking. I just wanted a quick fix, and being 42 and half ass cute on ok cupid is a quick fix.  So I created a profile. It didn’t turn out as expected. 95% of the responders were from 18 to 29. At first this was a thrill. Every single one of them were so hot and the type that wouldn’t look my way when I was younger. Now here I am in my 40’s and they are literally vying for my attention. I picked a few who were college educated and seemed half ass worth the time. The young men became attached and needy, something I had no energy for. I can not plan a future with someone 20 years my junior. They each thought they wanted to be with me forever but 5 years from now I will look like their grandmother. They cant grasp that concept. I’d stop seeing one for this reason and the next would have the same issues. Mommy issues, I come to find out.

I’ve had to explain what those blue streaks on my legs were. (Broken veins)

I’ve had to explain why I can’t wrestle over 10 minutes. It freaking hurts. I hurt for days after. My body is 20 years older than you dude, wait until you are this age and I hope you remember how you teased me.

I’ve had to explain why when I’m on top for over 20 minutes I can’t just hop up because my knees won’t let me.

I find myself lecturing them like a mother and receiving crazy looks like my boys give me and it creeps me out. “You walked off a job without having another lined up and now you can’t find work. Look in the mirror at who’s to blame.” I’ll say. Or, ” Uber is hiring drivers.” and hearing from them that it’s just not their thing. What’s not your thing? Having to rely on yourself instead of your parents to pay your car payment? I can’t relate to today’s young adult mentality. You work where you have to work until you find something you want to do. You should stop receiving money from your parents the day you move out of their house. You should not drink energy drinks. You should not be eating that fast food it’s draining your IQ. Use a damn wash cloth when you bathe your skin needs exfoliation. Brush your teeth before you go to bed for god’s sake. Your legs are ashy put some lotion on. No you can not have one of my cigarettes they are bad for you. Do you want to wake up hacking like I do?  You are not 21 yet no I will not buy you beer. In fact, you are not old enough to drink. Why are you even in my bed? Get up. This is crazy. HAVE YOUR BABY? Are you out of your mind?

I lecture all the time. And the more I lecture, the more they love it. The more they text me, need me, want to see me, want to hear my voice. It’s crazy and it’s creepy. One started calling me Mom on his text messages. Screw that! I’ve indulged all kinds of fetishes in my day, and incest never was nor ever will be one of them. I never seen him again after that. And he was the one who broke me of my Cougar ways. I woke up the week after my 43 birthday this past September and was filled with immense shame. I immediately broke it off with the guy who was supposed to be a one night stand but ended up being (LITERALLY) an every day thing for two months. I told him to come get his toothbrush and his Playstation Games. He refused and said I’d change my mind. I didn’t.

It’s fun to hang out, roll in the hay, and play video games afterwards, but then I am ready for them to leave. Just go home honey. I want to take my makeup and the persona off. I want to kick back and read a book that will probably be far above your head and my inability to have a conversation with you about it will make me never want to see you naked again. So just go. I need a man in my life. A mature man who knows what overtime is. A man who every blue moon is too tired to fuck and just wants me to kiss him all over and rub warm oil on his aging bones.  A man who has a past to share with me.

This week every single guy I dated during the cougar year has contacted me wanting to see me. Christmas must have brought out something in them. I guess boys want to be with their mothers during the holidays.