Finally saw Fast and Furious last night. Despite having really shitty dialogue, average-at-best actors, skanky chics galore and ticky-tacky painted cars which don't actually go as fast as purported in the movie, I didn't like it very much.
OMG what a cliffhanger. Good thing we got 2Fast 2Furious from Netflix right away so I can watch it and find out what happens. Will Vin Diesel end up in prison? Will the cute blonde guy (What the hell with the bad early 80s hair?) lose his job or make detective? Will he get the girl??
NO! Don't tell me. I'm not listening. La la la la...
Not nearly enough sex, and no, fast cars don't particularly turn me on, unless I'm driving. We'll see if they turn PHF on--he's taking the Audi to the track today. Speaking of cars, we did get my custom rack built for my Grand Cherokee. (Yeah, yeah, "nice rack!" it's been done to death.) When it gets all painted and the lights get on I'll take a pic and post it. Looks wicked-cool.
I've been reading some different sorts of blogs lately, mostly revolving around Dominant/submissive topics--that's how they write it: Dominant is capitalized and submissive is not, in case you didn't know, which I'm sure you did(n't). (Also, they can't spell, if the above book is any indication.) I really don't know what my fascination is with it. Yes, for the record, I have been tied up. Yes, more than once. Yes, more than ten times. So, ok, sure, a little domination is hot, but fuck, these chics are like hanging out in cages, crawling around the house, and serving their master's every whim and shit. All the while naked. There are pictures and trust me, naked is not good.
They submit not only just in the bedroom either but in all things. This is no game. It's a life of slavery. I think even to call it a lifestyle is outside the paramaters--it seems so pervasive in their entire thought process. One chic is trying, unsuccessfully, to quit smoking and gets a spanking with a paddle every night for FIVE minutes. There were pictures. Uh. Owwwch.
Another couple has a list of rules. She has to kneel down and beg him for sex, in detail, once a week. If he says no, she has to ask again until he grants it. (Um, beg? Much less get refused? In my experience, if you lift your eyebrows and glance toward the bedroom he is so there.) She can't wear a bra at home. Like, she can't even wear baggy clothes. Well, the bra thing is a good idea, granted, but no baggy clothes? What about when you've over-eaten (which is likely, if the breadth of her bright-red ass is any indication)? What about jammies? I wear size 4 clothes. But most of my jammy shirts are size large, cuz I don't like to be all bound up at night. Well, not by jammies, anyway. Heh. Funny thing. The other night I took Tylenol PM, trying to sleep off this fucking cold, and I woke up all naked. Don't recall stripping down, but I guess I got hot or something.
Ok, I kinda liked the naked part. Our sheets are soft.
One chic has to call her Master to get permission to cum while masturbating. How would he even know? Fuck, guys can't even tell when they're right there.
They do have some awesome, raunchy sex, if what they write can be believed. That part would be cool. Er, not that I don't have awesome, raunchy sex pretty regular, and it is cool. But I sure as hell ain't kissin' his feet to get it. Hell, that's HIS job, except I got this thing where I can't stand to have my feet touched...
These submissives complain incessantly. But then they talk like they just can't do without their opportunity for daily submission. Their master, um, excuse me, Master, is so kind and good and loving, blah blah blah. I think they get addicted to having no will of their own. They simply must have some time each day when they don't have to make any decisions, they can just take orders and not think for themselves. It's not so weird, really.
But then, isn't that what work is for?
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