Correspondence Hall of Shame, 12/31

Happy New Year edition! :-)

Haven't had one of these for a while, but I figured, what better way to close out 2010 than to give a few idiots a proper sendoff?

That’s one great ass you have there Erica. You look PHENOMENAL for 53!

Oh, now I'm PHENOMENAL. I suppose at 54, I'll be MIRACULOUS, and by 55, I'll be OTHER-WORLDLY. (rolling eyes)

hey sex you have a nice ass i would spank you all nite

Whatever. Mind if I sleep while you're doing that?

I could totally eat that ass!

Don't be ridiculous. What would I sit on if you did that?

that is a sweet lil’ ass. :) i’d enjoy making it red… and watching you drip from the sting.

Honey, it's not the sting that makes me drip, it's the man administering it. And in your case, I'd be the Sahara desert.

You can be my slut anytime, sweetmeat.

Wow, I can? Really? Cool! And you can go blow yourself anytime, mincemeat.

And finally, this edition's gem (and since when are subby boys so utterly filthy?):

I am 44 years old white guy want to be your slave [phone number] sex slave Xxxx I live in Hollywood zip code xxxxx with me you can do whatever I like when I was beaten and humiliated. You can piss my mouth, you can beat my eggs can have my ass hole, I suck dick and I lick pussy

OK, I'll play Domme for a few minutes. Here's your order: Go write "I will not send such unsolicited filth to a woman ever again" 100 times. And I mean write, not type. With a pen. In your toes.

Enough of this nonsense. On a serious note, another year is about to conclude. It was one of great highs and lows and everything in between. The lowest point was John's illness and all its complications and stresses. The high point? I met a wonderful new friend and play partner who provided fun, laughs and stress release. Life has a way of providing checks and balances sometimes. I only hope I've given him even half as much joy as he's given me.

And for tonight, I will be with my sweetheart. We'll have champagne and put the last few months behind us, start 2011 fresh with a kiss. I don't know what the future will bring regarding his health, but for tonight, we're putting it all aside and celebrating the moment.

To all my friends and readers, Happy New Year. Wherever you are, whatever you're doing, I wish you joy, health and serenity. xoxox

One more clip! :-)

This was the finale to last week's Christmas spanking.

It could have been over; he was winding down, and I was plenty sore and worn out. But despite that, somehow, I didn't want it to be over. I needed that final push. And so, I opened up my big yap one more time...

What you don't get to see, because the clip ends before the aftercare, was the part where I'm kind of curled around him with my head resting on his leg, and I voluntarily smile up at him and whisper, "Merry Christmas." No persuasion necessary. Amazing.

Guess you'll just have to imagine me being sweet. :-D

On my mind

So we're at John's sister/brother-in-law's house on Christmas, sitting in the living room chatting before dinner. I'm a bit off to the side, looking around, observing and absorbing my surroundings. S & J are both involved in academia, and the decor reflects it. Some of it seems a bit pretentious to me, as if it's screaming, "Look how SMART we are!" But perhaps that's my own prejudice.

I notice the expensive-looking chess board on the coffee table, listen idly as John's nephew shows slides on his laptop of his trip to Kenya. I look at the tasteful paintings on the wall, the stacks and stacks of collector LPs. My eye wanders to a side table next to my chair. Atop the table lay three books. The first two are books of poems, by Pablo Neruda and Ezra Pound, respectively.

The third is a book of drawings. Its title? "The C*** Coloring Book."

I kid you not.

I felt the usual visceral lurch of revulsion to that word, then felt angry and disgusted. Judgmental of me, I know. But I couldn't help it.

Later, John's brother and sister-in-law arrived... with their eight-year-old son. She sat in the same chair I'd been in earlier, and sure enough, she noticed the coloring book. I saw her face, watched her eyebrows shoot up. She picked it up, flipped through it. Then she put it back -- face down -- on the table, and put the other two books on top of it, so her son wouldn't see it. "Sorry," she said, "but I am so not ready for that conversation."

I don't blame her.

OK, so here's what's on my mind. Most of us spankos worry about accidentally exposing our kink. We hide our spanking videos and our BDSM paraphernalia, password-protect our computers, turn the spanking book titles inward in the bookcase. My coffee table bears Beatles tomes, not spanking art books. Why do we bother? Why are we so cautious about our innocent fun, when vanilla folks can blithely display that kind of crap for everyone to see??

Doesn't seem right, I'm thinkin'.

Oh, but spanking is degrading to women, they say.

Hummph. And coloring in women's hoo-has isn't?

I'll put any of our fetish erotica up against that coloring book in a bad-taste contest any day. I am betting that the coloring book would win.

Just my thoughts on a quiet post-spanking Tuesday.

Monday by the hours



Every Monday afternoon, just about this time, it hits me... I'm getting spanked in 3 1/2 hours. The home-stretch anticipation kicks in, along with the butterflies, the rapid heartbeat, the heightened color in my face.

I need to start getting ready. I shower, blow out my hair, dress. I choose something different each week, so he'll have no idea what I'm going to wear. What color will it be? What style panties? Dress up or dress down?

Time plays tricks on these afternoons. Sometimes it flies at warp speed, and other times it drags on and on until I feel like I might jump out of my skin. But before I know it...

Ack! Getting closer!

I put on my makeup, trying to control the slight tremor in my hands so I won't put out an eye with my mascara wand or swipe lipstick across my chin. Is my place tidy? Gather up the newspapers, throw the clothes in the hamper, straighten up the bathroom. Oh. Yeah. It's nearly 5:30 and I haven't eaten anything since 10 A.M. Make a light snack.

Fool around online for a while to distract myself. Brush my teeth. Make the bed. Kill a few minutes, then another few, and then I look up...



... and the butterflies multiply until they threaten to burst out of my chest. In five minutes, my phone will ring. I won't have to check caller ID; I'll know it's him, waiting for me at the outdoor intercom to buzz him in. He's never late. I let him in, and seconds later, my doorbell rings.

I don't know exactly how the evening will play out, as he keeps me guessing, changes it up a little each week. I will challenge him, and he will meet my challenge vigorously. Perhaps I'll cry, or perhaps I will giggle with sheer delight through the entire session. I'll be OTK for sure, but who knows...

...I might end up in the damndest positions as well.

I know this for sure, however. After the spanking is over, I will snuggle up against him and he will be gentle and soothing with me. We'll talk, after a while of companionable silence. Maybe (OK, probably) I'll get spanked again, since I can't seem to stop sassing for more than about a half-hour. And then...

By now, he's gone. Another Monday has passed. I'm sore, stinging and sitting gingerly. And I am serene, happy, all my rough edges gone buttery soft. The butterflies are sleeping peacefully, dormant until it's time for them to come alive again...

Next Monday.

Post-holiday joy, and virus questions

What a fun treat -- came home from John's this evening and discovered that I was included in a special Christmas Chross list. I thought he had skipped the Spankings of the Week this week, due to the holidays. :-D  Always makes me happy to be in that illustrious list! I see, besides many of the usual great choices, two of my dearest buddies were highlighted as well -- Zelle and Wolfie -- for what I believe is their first time! Congratulations to all.

So, how was everyone's Christmas? What'd you do? John and I had a lovely and peaceful time. Friday night it was just us; we went out for sushi, then came home, lit a fire and watched It's a Wonderful Life. Saturday, we lounged and lolled around in bed until after noon. Nothing was open, so I'd brought soup and rolls to have for lunch, which we enjoyed with Christmas-y jazz playing in the background. Later that day, we went to his sister's for dinner. It was just family this time, no big wild crowd, and it was actually quite nice, just 13 of us. We had Cornish hens and braised rabbit for dinner, with salad and vegetables and mashed potatoes. Normally I'm a bit squeamish about the idea of eating Thumper, but I have to say the rabbit was incredibly good. I even had a glass of champagne, and John made fun of me because my face was flushed and I was giggling at everything. I'm such a lightweight!

We came home around 9:00 (it was pouring rain), lit the fire again, made tea and watched a Marx Brothers movie. I'd treated myself to a boxed set of their first five flicks -- love those guys! We didn't do much in the way of presents this year, due to John's illness... far too preoccupied for that. I'd noticed, when I cleaned his house that one time, that his vacuum cleaner was broken, so I bought him a cordless hand vacuum cleaner, the best one I could find. Not a very romantic gift, but practical, and something he'd never buy for himself. Plus chocolate, of course. He gave me a gift card from Kohl's, so I can buy some new clothes. And today when we were at brunch, I noticed there was a small wad of cash in my wallet that hadn't been there before. "Sweetie," I said, "where did this money come from?"

He just looked, shrugged and said, "Guess Santa thought you were extra good this year."

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! See? SEE? I was good, dammit! New Guy lied when he said Santa was mad at me! Hummmmmpppph. Boy, is he getting a piece of my mind tomorrow.

I have a question for the blog experts out there. One of my readers wrote to me and said she thought she might be getting viruses off my blog! She wanted to give me a heads-up, saying that whenever she came on to read, her virus protection would catch something new. Also, it was happening when she went to Pixie's blog. I've also heard from her and others that people were getting viruses and various warnings when they went to the Spanking Spot.

What could this be? How does one's blog get infected by a virus? I mean, I've run all my programs and come up with nothing; I have no infections. If one's blog is transmitting a bug somehow, how does one stop it? And how do you know if it's really happening in the first place? I mean, if my blog had a bug, wouldn't it pass it on to everyone who comes on it? (According to my reader, it happens immediately.) And regarding Spanking Spot, I've gone on there many times to check on my blog votes, and haven't caught a thing. So what could be going on? Any clues? Anyone else having a bug problem with my blog? Or is it just a coincidence, something with Blogger and not with me, a browser issue, what? Blech.

Oh well. Not going to fret over it tonight; I feel too good. :-) Hope everyone had a very special holiday!

Chestnuts roasting on my flaming bum...

...Jack Strap nipping at my a$&,
Although it's been said, many times, many ways,
Merry Christmas, with sass! :-D

See, even I can have a bit of holiday spirit with the right coercion... er, coaxing.

I wish all of you a merry/happy/joyous/fun/peaceful whatever you celebrate! xoxox

My favorite clip, so far

I hope you guys are liking these! :-) Check out our oh-so-graceful transition from over the pillows back to OTK. But I think the funniest part is near the end.

I know everyone is busy with holiday stuff -- but if you do watch and you like, please tell us! We'll keep doing little vignettes like this periodically if readers enjoy them.

Stop the presses!

This just in... New Guy gets Erica to shut up! :-)  (well, for a few minutes, anyway)

Here come da clips! :-)

I got a bunch of them tonight, so I will post a couple now and then more tomorrow. If I do say so myself, we're funny! :-D  So be sure to turn your volume up so you'll hear our dialogue.

This one comes at the end of his so-called "warmup":

And in this one, he had the strange notion that y'all want to see my face. Imagine that.

You know, I think we're having way too much fun; the strict-discipline aficionados will be disappointed. I mean, a spankee isn't supposed to laugh, is she? :-Þ  (although I do think my color speaks for the caliber of discipline and the power in the strokes, don't you?)

Thanks to New Guy for getting us these so quickly -- more coming!

Preview of coming attractions

Since everyone is posting various Xmas-themed blogs, I figured I'd better get cracking and post the two small clips New Guy sent me from my Grinch spanking.

These are just teasers, y'all -- quite short. And again, if you're looking for polished and professional, great lighting, etc., it's not here. Just us being silly and having a little holiday spanking fun. :-)

Intro:



Some early banter (I love his little "What am I to do?" shrug into the camera):

He promised he'd send more today. Of course, wouldn't you know, @#$%ing AOL email is down and I can't retrieve anything, no matter which browser I try. AGGGGHH! I am hoping this glitch will be resolved post-haste.

More fun with paddles and straps and belts (oh my) to come!

The Grinch got spanked

For everyone who's always wanted to see me get spanked for my lousy holiday attitude, have we got a video for you.

New Guy showed up in the pouring rain tonight loaded down with toy bag, camera and tripod. I was quite ready for him, with a special holiday message attached to the back of my skirt.

Can't see my special message? Here, look a little closer:

That's right -- I have mistletoe pinned just above my butt. And you know what that means. :-) 

Interesting, though -- I thought it was hilarious, but he didn't seem to think so. He even made me take the skirt off! Of course, that was a good idea anyway, since the damn mistletoe was dry as hay (even though the package claimed it was fresh) and it was crumbling all over the carpet, the bed, everywhere.

So we recorded my thorough scolding and spanking for being such a Scrooge. I even had to say Merry Christmas 20 times (to 20 strap strokes) and "I'm sorry, Santa." @#$%!! I screwed up on the eight reindeer, though. I said "Stupid" instead of "Cupid." Silly me.

Ah, but you know what? When all is said and done, somehow I don't mind the holidays so much anymore. :-)

Clips will be up soon! Thank you, my friend. And to all a good night.

Happy (hic) Holidays

So we went last night to John's sister's annual drunkfest... er, Christmas party. I've written about these before. Every year, his older sister and her husband have a gigantic holiday blowout at their house, with friends of theirs, friends of their kids, kids of their friends, etc. teeming through the house making merry. There is always a live band and dancing. And enough alcohol to sail a fleet of ships upon. (Yes, I know I ended a sentence with a preposition. I don't care.)

This is my 15th time at this gig, so I know the drill. We show up fairly early, eat, and enjoy the band before things get too sloppy/crazy/loud with all the imbibing. I wasn't sure if John would be up for it or not, what with all he's been going through. He's still itching and covered with rash, even though he's been off the drugs for two weeks, and his stomach has been acting up as well. However, he still wanted to make an appearance, and I thought what the hell, we didn't have any other plans anyway.

It started out OK. We got there around 8:00 (it started at 7:00) and they had just put the food out on the buffet table. As we ate and mingled with people we'd seen year after year, the band started. They were amazingly good -- a topnotch drummer, bassist, keyboardist and saxophone player. And a mediocre fiddle player. Unfortunately, he was the one who stood front and center and did all the talking, loudly. He warned us all: "You all need to drink a WHOLE LOT tonight, or you're going to find us very obnoxious as the night goes on." Swell.

John and I grabbed primo spots on the couch and settled in to listen to the band and watch everyone. John, as always, kept me in stitches with his pithy commentary on the other guests. I swear, they say women are snarky, but John can out-snark any of us. One woman did this weird thing with her hands when she was dancing, making them look like claws; he dubbed her "Pterodactyl Woman." Another had her hair wound up in two tiny buns on each side of her head; she became "Princess Leia." Yet another was wearing a rather strange outfit and he said, "Oh, I remember her. She was dressed inappropriately last year too." A young couple, already falling-down drunk at 9:00 PM, came onto the dance floor. They were a rather unlikely pair: he had a full-face beard and was wearing a plaid flannel shirt and faded jeans; she had on F-me shoes and sequined black top with her boobs threatening to fall out of it. John whispered to me, "OK, who's going to regret that hookup more in the morning -- Mountain Man or the Skank?" Shortly thereafter, she stumbled on her spiky stilettos and went crashing into the sax player. I'm thinking there wouldn't be any hooking up with her later... throwing up, perhaps.

It was OK for a while... we even danced a little, but the space was packed and I got tired of dodging lurching bodies and errant feet stomping on mine, so we sat back down. The band took a break and John went off to mingle, and that's when things went sour for me. I stayed on the couch, wanting to keep our spot (besides, it was freezing outside on the patio), watching all the action around me and trying to look interested. I was wedged up against an older guy on my left who was talking to someone on his left, and he was flinging his arms around as he talked. His right arm kept flapping into me, and he was oblivious to it. What did he think he was hitting, the side of the couch? When his arm and elbow crashed into me for about the fourth time, I gently shook his shoulder, and he turned to me in surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry, dear," he slurred. "I hope I didn't hit any of the wrong bits." Good lord.

I kept waiting for John to come back, but he was deep in conversation outside with his niece's fiancee, and finally I gave up my couch spot and wandered around. But everywhere I went, there was more noise, more intoxicated strangers and no one with whom I could connect. I saw John's brother there by himself; his wife was home with their son. He comes to these things and kind of hangs out on his own, saying little. As it happens, he was probably the only other person there besides me who was sober; he's a recovering alcoholic and he was nursing his fake beer, looking kind of detached and amused as if he was thinking, "Damn, is this what I used to look like?"

I suppose I could have tried to strike up a conversation with him, but I've never felt quite comfortable around him. He's always been the "cool one" in the family, whereas John was the smart one. And of course, John was the one who got all the teasing, was picked on incessantly, etc., while his brother was treated like he was some hotshot. I've always resented him for that, even though I don't think it was his fault. It's just another screwed-up family dynamic.

The band came back from their break, freshly stoned and with fresh drinks, and their music got loose and sloppy, the vocals more hollered than sung. It was only 11:00, but I suddenly wanted to go home so badly, I could hardly stand it. I went and found John, still chatting, and gave him our subtle secret signal that can mean a lot of different things, but mostly it means "He-e-e-elllllp!" What did the big oaf do? He laughed and said to his companion, "Oh, she wants to go home." Aaaggh.

No, I did want to go home. Now I wanted to kill him.

I left and went upstairs, hoping to find a place where I could find a little peace. But people were in the upstairs bedrooms and I could smell pot. Then I saw Pterodactyl Woman carrying Princess Leia over her shoulder. Things were definitely getting weird.

Fortunately, John realized he'd made a bit of a boo-boo and came looking for me. I told him this was all a bit too overwhelming for me and I needed to go soon, and he agreed. We hung out a little bit longer, listened to the band a bit more and watched the miasma of bodies swirling and banging into one another. By 11:45, we decided to go home. My ears rang for several minutes after we left.

I know this party went on all night. I know that it was considered a smashing success, as it is every year, and people will talk about it until it's time for the next one. What am I missing? Do I need to be plastered? I guess that's it. Drunk people are appealing only to other drunk people, I guess. When you're sober, you feel like you're in a very strange dream, where everyone around you is behaving in a surreal manner and nothing makes sense.

Anyway... I'm grateful for John, who had one beer and then switched to Diet Coke. I don't regret that we went. Now I know the holidays are nearly over... just have to deal with Xmas Day at the same sister's house, and then it's done for another year. Hallelujah!

Oh, and my reward for surviving last night? Tomorrow is Monday! ;-) Now that's MY kind of fun, and while my bottom might be a little worse for wear, my liver will be intact.

Yeah, I know. I'm a square peg in a round world in this instance too. What else is new??

Erica's Helpful Hints #6

Do not watch spanking videos with your top. Bad, bad move. They'll get evil ideas and you won't make it to the conclusion of the video without getting flipped over.

However, if you must take your chances and watch anyway, then for the love of God, make sure to avoid the following. When the top on the screen inevitably spouts one of those oh-so-familiar lines like "Is this getting through to you?", do NOT turn to the top beside you and ask, "Why do you tops all say the same stupid crap?"

There might very well be a spanking in stereo.



Yes, that is my butt times 2 -- in the foreground AND on the TV!
























One more thing, folks: In case you haven't heard, Brushstrokes is doing his annual Spanking Awards, and the list of 10 nominees for Best Spanking Blog of 2010 went up yesterday here. Much to my surprise and delight, I'm among them. This is the first time I've been nominated and several of my favorites are included on that list, so I am honored indeed.

Chross will win (and deservedly so); he's far ahead of the others. The poll is set up so that everyone can submit just one vote, so runner-up remains to be seen. Sooooooooo... if you like this blog, and you haven't already voted for one of my esteemed co-bloggers, show me some love and vote for me? :-) Pardon the Hollywood-ish cliché, but just being nominated is very exciting. Thanks!

New Guy's Theme

(Sung to the tune of Eric Clapton's "Layla")

In case anyone doesn't know this classic, here ya go:



What'll you do when I've been naughty,
And I'm waiting by your side
I've been sassing, and bratting much too long,
Now you're gonna tan my hide!

Newww Guy
You got me o'er your knees
New Guy
Your hand, it stings like bees
New Guyyyyyy
Darlin' won't you ease up on me pleeeeeeaase?

"Won't be givin' you consolation,"
You tried to warn me, with a frown
Like a fool, I made a fool of you,
Now you've turned me upside down!

Newww Guy
That hairbrush makes me burn,
New Guy
Will I ever learn?
New Guyyyyyyy,
Do you really have to be so stern?

You got control of the situation,
As I writhe around in pain,
Then your belt, imparts another welt,
My tears are fallin' just like rain!

Newwwww Guy
I'm lyin' on the bed
New Guy
My bottom's crimson red
New Guyyyyyyy
Oh my god, the paddle's still ahead...!

Newwwwwww Guy
Now the spanking's done
New Guy
I have to say "you won"
New Guyyyyyyyy
Finally sent the bad girl on the run!*

*well, until next week, anyway. ;-)

Despite those daggers I'm glaring, I had another spectacular Monday night. But you guys already knew that. :-)

Up, down, all around

Warning: I don't think this blog is going to be especially entertaining. Certainly not humorous, not sexy, no spanky pictures. Just me, in a strange place tonight.

Need to run something by you guys, a unexpectedly strong reaction I had to a clip I watched. I found it on FetLife, and it was a young woman being punished for texting and driving with a hard strapping/paddling.

I'm not much for harsh punishment videos, really. I'm pretty squeamish. But this one had a looooong string of comments, some of my friends had watched it, and I was curious. Also, I happen to think texting and driving is irresponsible, deplorable, and a whole lot of other -ibles and -ables. As one who has lost a loved one to a car accident, I have zero tolerance for those who treat a multi-ton vehicle like a moving entertainment center. So I figured I'd side with the top on this one.

The video was about 9 1/2 minutes long, but I only made it through a little over six minutes and had to shut it off. My stomach was in knots and I literally felt nauseated. And I felt sick and shook up for a good hour after that.

I know that a lot of people are into true discipline and punishment. I also know that harsh is relative, and what's light to one can be heavy to another and vice versa. Above all, I know this scene was 100% consensual, this woman wanted it, needed it and asked for it. It was real. But I couldn't bear it, even knowing logically that she posted it because she was proud of it and wanted people to see it.

She started to cry practically from the first strap stroke (on a white bottom; no warmup). The crying escalated to sobbing and pleading, then screaming in pain. She put her hands back frequently; he would warn her to move them, and when she didn't, he struck her hands. By the six-minute mark, her butt was trashed. It wasn't just red/purple or marked; dark pools of blood were forming and spreading under the surface of her skin, and I was terrified that the next hard strike would break the skin and send that blood flying in all directions.

I have to say the top's technique was flawless; he clearly knew what he was doing. His aim was perfect, no wrapping, etc. He was focused. But he scolded her throughout, in a loud, angry tone. No, he didn't call her names or anything, but his voice was extremely harsh. Between her screaming and his yelling, I had to turn the sound off. And finally, I just shut it off altogether.

I then read the comments... one after another, they praised the video. "Wow, that was awesome." "Now that's what a punishment should look like." "You deserved that and more." "Poor baby, you won't do that again, will you?" On and on it went; everyone thought it was great. What's wrong with me? What was I missing here? Why was I so utterly horrified?

I wanted to comment that this video was so brutal, I had to stop watching 2/3 of the way through. I wanted to write to this girl, even though I don't know her, and ask if she really was OK. I wanted to wrap her up in a big hug and protect her. Protect her? From what? She consented to it! Of course, I didn't comment and I didn't write to her. I knew I'd be perceived as judgmental and I didn't want to rain on her parade.

I'm not looking for people to tell me that I was right to react the way I did, that it sounds awful, that stuff like that is too much, etc. I don't really want validation here. I would like to understand why I reacted with such horror and revulsion, when I have taken strappings that hard. Was it her screaming and sobbing? Was it the condition of her skin? Was it that the top didn't seem at all regretful that he had to do this, that he was relishing beating her? On the other hand, for all I know, he gave her tender aftercare at the end of the video.

We all have things we don't like to watch. I just wish I knew why my reactions are so extreme. If I had been beaten as a child, I could understand that watching stuff like this could cause a flashback. But I was not.

Very strange and unsettling. Not sure where I'm going with this, but had to express it somewhere, and what better place than my own blog.

Not a good weekend. John has been off the antibiotics for a week now, but apparently they are taking a long time to leave his system. The itching and rash didn't get any better and he had such a bad week, he went back to the doctor on Friday. She gave him prescription-strength allergy meds instead of OTC this time, and a prescription-strength ointment. The meds didn't help much with the itch, but they made him hyper and even more irritable. I spent the whole weekend walking on eggshells, which backfired on me because my skittishness around him just irritated him further. I know he's miserable, I know he doesn't mean it. I tell myself over and over, wait it out, it will pass, he'll feel better soon and then things will be OK again. He'll be nicer. The man I love is still inside that angry, agitated shell.

Then other times, I wonder if it will ever be better. I feel very tired and overwhelmed sometimes. And then of course, I realize, if I'm tired, how tired is he? It's been so @#$%ing long... he first got sick toward the end of September.

Ugh. Double ugh.

Tomorrow is Monday. I will feel better tomorrow. Thank goodness for balance in life, for fun to smooth out the rough times.

Sorry for the drama. Sometimes, things suck a bit.

New blog -- everyone go see! :-)

Happy Friday! (and happy ChrossDay) :-D

My friend, the talented Dave Wolfe (of the popular WolfieToons) has started a new blog HERE. Everyone, please go read, comment, encourage, add him to your list -- he has lots to share and he's such fun. Plus, he's one helluva sweet guy. We've never met in person, but we've had much correspondence over the past several years and he's brought me many smiles and laughs.

In case you haven't seen any of his work (and if not, where have you been?) here's a toon he created for me on my 50th birthday:

"There's a crack in the mirror" -- HAR!

In other news: John finally got that godawful PICC taken out. No more IV! No more antibiotics! And not a moment too soon. The man was going mad with the side effects... suffice it to say that the last month was exceedingly unpleasant. The rash is still healing as the drugs work their way out of his system, but he's on his way to feeling much better. :-)

In case you're wondering what's become of the CHoS, I haven't received much material for it lately. I suppose that's good, huh? But it will be back, once I collect a couple more entries.

So, let's review: seeing my sweetheart tonight, tomorrow and Sunday, and then... it's Monday! And you know what Monday means! Am I a happy girl today? Yup.

Have a great weekend, y'all.

Erica's Helpful Hints #5

Spankees, we've all been in this situation: You're OTK, the spanking has ramped up and you temporarily quiet down in an attempt to absorb it. And then your top crows, "No sass? Wow! I think I'm finally getting through to you!"

So smug. :-Þ

Tempting as it may be, it's probably not in your best interest to twist around, pinch his arm and say, "Wake up. You're dreaming."

It's damn fun, though. :-D

Thirty years ago today...

... I cried all night long over someone I'd never met, but who had been a part of my life for as long as I could remember.

A woman lost the love of her life. Two boys lost their father. The world lost one of its most brilliant voices.

A working class hero, a genius, an anarchist and an icon was frozen at age 40, with the remainder of his potential to be forever unknown.

Thirty years later, I still get tears in my eyes.

Miss you, John. Still.

I know this will sound sick, but...

... I love Mondays. :-)

Mind you, I haven't always. Used to groan at the thought of them, like everyone else, until just recently. Ever since I met New Guy and Monday became SpankDay. Now I feel like I have a three-day weekend every week.

We don't even bother with the small talk upon his arrival anymore. He's not in the door five minutes and I'm over his knee. Not that I'm complaining. I never was much for small talk anyway. How was your weekend? Fine. Nice haircut. Thanks. OK, that's enough of that. Spank now, talk later.

And spank he did.

On the couch.

Over the ottoman.

And then later, long after we'd wound down, he got some bug up his butt about something or another and we had an impromptu Round #2 over the dining room table with his belt. Pardon the clutter...

Enough locations, don't you think? Nah. He had to put me in the @#$%ing corner, too!

OK, so maybe, just maybe, I deserved a little of this. Some things have the damndest ways of slipping out at times. He was going on and on and ON with that belt of his, with a very long CCR song playing in the background. (One doesn't usually hear the extended version of "I Heard It Through the Grapevine" on the radio. It goes on about seven or eight minutes, I think.) Anyway, I complained, "Aren't you done yet?" and he replied, "Nope, this is the long version." Har har. I shrugged and said, "Well, at least there's something about you that's long."

That might not have been the most intelligent utterance on my part. Who knew. I think I screeched "I'm sorry" about six times in about as many seconds.

But I still giggled. I can't help it. I'm insatiable.

He said I never learn. I pointed out that if one doesn't learn, it's usually the teacher's fault. Funny, he took exception to that. But I do believe he'll keep trying to impart some sort of lessons to me. And trying. And trying.

I sure hope so. :-)

Wow! :-)

This blog is four months old, and today, I broke 100,000 page views! Special thanks and big cyber-hugs to Chross and his Spankings of the Week listings, which have no doubt sent 1,000s of those hits my way. I love how my views spike sharply upward on the Fridays when I get Chrossed! :-)

I have a query for my readers. I have my regular commenters (and I love you guys), and some periodic commenters. However, a whole lot of you never do, and I know it's due in part to the fact that I turned off the Anonymous comments option. I get emails and messages from people saying, "Hey, couldn't comment on the blog, but wanted you to know that I really liked..." etc.

Two weeks after I came to Blogger, some asshat took exception to one of my topics (and some of the comments on it) and went on a spree, insulting my readers with a barrage of his own nasty remarks. I erased and erased, but he kept reposting. I even directly pleaded with him to stop, but he would not. Finally, I had no choice but to turn off the Anonymous option, since Blogger doesn't allow one to block individuals. I have always endeavored to make my blog open and have people feel safe in joining in and making it interactive, and I wasn't about to let one malcontent ruin that.

Now, I'm toying with the idea of turning that option back on. If I do, I would have to be more vigilant. I might turn on Moderate Comments on the weekends. And I would have to ask all of you to help me out -- if someone were to hurl an anonymous potshot, they must be ignored. No replies, no acknowledgment, no engaging with them. I will delete their comments as soon as I see them.

What do you guys think? Do blogs feel more open and friendly when anyone can comment? Should I try allowing the anonymous comments again?

If you can't comment with your opinion, shoot me an email. :-D

Meanwhile, thank you for reading! You guys make me sooooooo happy when I see all the hits.



Of course I sit at my computer dressed like this. Doesn't everyone?

(Yeah, I know I've posted this shot before. But it fit so well into this topic!)

Have a great weekend, y'all.

To @#$% or not to @#$%

A while back, Devlin O'Neill blogged about cursing and how he does not use it (or allow it in comments) on his blog. Despite my yanking his chain sometimes, I understand his viewpoint that he wants everyone to feel comfortable and safe. But his post gave me food for thought. What are people's thoughts on swearing? Yes? No? What's too much?

Before I continue, allow me to state two points up front: 1) I do not condone hurling ugly names in anger, and 2) the "c" word is off the table, in any circumstance. That word should be banned from the lexicon, as far as I'm concerned.

Moving on... obviously, as you've noted in my own blogs, I do cuss. As with most things in my life, I employ moderation. Of course, moderation is relative. To one who is offended by relatively mild epithets such as "damn" and "hell," my swearing is beyond moderate. But on average, I'd say I use it for emphasis, rather than allowing it to usurp my vocabulary.

Can we all agree that a well-placed swear word can be hilarious? Granted, spewing them right and left makes them redundant (and obnoxious), but with the right timing and placement, an unexpected cuss word can make me laugh until my stomach hurts.

Take spanking videos, for one example. On the extreme side, I once watched a video from a company whose product is not to my liking (won't mention the name, but it's not anyone I've worked for!), and it featured two girls getting spanked who blurted the f word and the s word every other sentence, which I found distasteful. However, an example for the plus side is one of my favorite adlibs of all time. (And no, I wasn't the one who said it.) In Shadow Lane's Sting Operation 2, Samantha Woodley is confronted by her teacher (Lance Del Toro) for cheating on an exam. After wheedling and flirting doesn't budge him, she gets petulant and snaps, "I said I was sorry! Now forgive and forget, and fuck off!" Hearing that come out of her sweet little face, and her timing, made me double over.

My thoughts on the ever-controversial word in the spanko scene: ass. Some people mistakenly think I disapprove of the word, but I don't. Where I don't like it is within a spanking scene. The phrase "You're getting a bare-bottom spanking, young lady" causes my stomach to flip-flop and my nether regions to react the way nether regions react; whereas "I'm going to beat your bare ass, bitch," makes me recoil in disgust. However, outside of scene conversation, there are times when only the word "ass" will do. I mean, calling someone a "dumb-bottom" or hurling off a snappy, "Oh, kiss my behind" just doesn't cut it.

When I was growing up, I didn't hear much swearing in my house. Sometimes I'd overhear cuss words when my older brother was in his room with his buddies, but my mother never swore in front of me. As I grew into adolescence, I thought she was quite the prig, using words like "golly" and "gee." Little did I know.

One summer day when I was 16, I was in her house, which had no air-conditioning. It was miserably hot and she had gone into her bedroom to attempt a nap, pulling down the shades and running a fan. But I guess it was simply too hot for her to sleep. Suddenly, she came bursting out of the bedroom in her underwear and yelled, "Aaaaaaaagh, it's so FUCKING HOT in here!" I was shocked! Who was this woman?? "Maaaaaa!" I said, laughing. "Well, it is!" she snapped. I guess she figured I was old enough to hear how she really talked! LOL

For many of you, cussing has always been around on TV, and certainly in movies. I'm old enough to remember the opposite, when you not only couldn't say "damn" or "hell," but you couldn't say "pregnant," you couldn't show a married couple in one bed, toilets didn't exist, etc. Of course, now on premium cable, they say everything, and even on network TV, several cuss words and references to bodily parts pass the censors.

Which brings me back to the moderation thing. No, I really don't want to return to the era of dialogue like "Honestly, Father," "Geeee, Wally," and "Well, gollllllllyyyy!" Wholesome, they called it. Another show comes to mind, a more current one -- Big Love. Because it depicts a Mormon family, there is no swearing. And I have to admit, sometimes the lack of swearing is jarring to my ears. They fight a lot, and somehow, hearing a heated "Darn you, Nicki!" or "Margene, what the H do you think you're doing?" doesn't ring true for me.

BUT -- when it's nonstop filthy mouth like on The Sopranos? Too much for me. I don't find South Park all that funny.

Returning to the humor aspect, there is one thing I do miss from bygone days of television -- innuendo. Nowadays, humor is so in-your-face dirty, spelling everything out, and so few people know the art of subtlety and suggestion anymore. The late, great Groucho Marx, on his show You Bet Your Life, could imply a world of ribaldry by simply looking into the camera and raising his eyebrows. In that era, it wasn't what was said -- it was what wasn't said that could bring on the side-splitting laughter.

One of my favorite examples of this is a classic clip from the Tonight Show, circa 1965, with the wonderful Johnny Carson. Actor Ed Ames, who played Mingo on the TV western Daniel Boone, was demonstrating how to throw a tomahawk, hurling one at a crude drawing of a cowboy figure. The tomahawk landed squarely in a most unfortunate area, and the audience exploded in laughter, as did Ames. Carson, however, didn't laugh, and didn't speak. He merely stood there, a very naughty smile twitching on his lips, looking at the tomahawk, then at Ames, then the audience, his face speaking volumes, while the laughter went on and on. And finally when it started to die down, with his perfect comedic timing, he uttered a line that made the howling erupt anew. It was one of the longest sustained laughs in television history.

If you haven't seen this clip, do watch: it's priceless.



So where am I going with all this? I guess I wanted to open the floor and see how people feel about cussing in general. Does it bother you? Are there circumstances where you think it works well? Do you think there's too much of it in the overall media nowadays?

And just so you know, I do appreciate moderation in comment cussing as well. ;-)