As You Wish

The first time I saw Princess Bride, I cried, l laughed and l cried some more. This movie is so full of memorable one liners and quotes that make me smile to think about them. But there are three words that began to shape the kind of woman l would become.

As you wish.

Mind you, men don’t actually say those exact words to me, but l found that making a simple request of a man (like Buttercup did when she said, “farm boy, fetch me that pitcher”) and he says “yes” in any variation of yes, well I can’t help it. l get wet.

That sudden rush of wet that is accompanied by the pulsing of the Vagenda. While men are visual creatures which is why l have a buffet of boobs photos (coming soon), women are auditory, so my Vagenda responds to what she hears especially when it is yes dear, yes baby, of course darling, or any affirmative declaration which is then followed up by action. *sigh

Now Wesley was of course saying, “l love you” when he uttered, “As You Wish” and men have tended to simply say l love you to me and while l adore that, the eternal romantic in me knows that one day l will hear those three words and they will mean the same thing.

So l will leave you with some of my favorite dialogue from Princess Bride. Do you have any?

Prince Humperdinck: First things first, to the death.

Westley: No. To the pain.

Prince Humperdinck: I don’t think I’m quite familiar with that phrase.

Westley: I’ll explain and I’ll use small words so that you’ll be sure to understand, you warthog faced buffoon.

Prince Humperdinck: That may be the first time in my life a man has dared insult me.

Westley: It won’t be the last. To the pain means the first thing you will lose will be your feet below the ankles. Then your hands at the wrists. Next your nose.

Prince Humperdinck: And then my tongue I suppose, I killed you too quickly the last time. A mistake I don’t mean to duplicate tonight.

Westley: I wasn’t finished. The next thing you will lose will be your left eye followed by your right.

Prince Humperdinck: And then my ears, I understand let’s get on with it.

Westley: WRONG. Your ears you keep and I’ll tell you why. So that every shriek of every child at seeing your hideousness will be yours to cherish. Every babe that weeps at your approach, every woman who cries out, “Dear God! What is that thing,” will echo in your perfect ears. That is what to the pain means. It means I leave you in anguish, wallowing in freakish misery forever.

Prince Humperdinck: I think you’re bluffing.

Westley: It’s possible, Pig, I might be bluffing. It’s conceivable, you miserable, vomitous mass, that I’m only lying here because I lack the strength to stand. But, then again… perhaps I have the strength after all.

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Good Luck Chuck!

In 2007 a movie was released starring Dane Cook and Jessica Alba called Good Luck Chuck. The premise was that Cook’s character breaks up with his girlfriend who immediately finds her true love and gets married almost right away. This pattern continues to happen and soon women are spreading the word; fuck this guy and you will find true love. As you can imagine, he comes home to find over 300 messages on his answering machine from women he does not even know.

He balks for a while, but his best friend urges him to take advantage of the offer of no strings sex and soon our protagonist is getting some strange in an amusing montage of wild sometimes head-banging sex. This is not as satisfying for him as one would think. He feels used because once they have what they want from him, they of course find the guy they really want. Finally, he meets and falls head over heels for Jessica Alba but he knows if he screws her, she will also find her mister right.

This is not a movie review post. Why am I sharing this movie with you, dear reader? I am the female real-life version of this fictional character. The difference between us other than gender is that it does not happen just because I shag some guy. Nope. He is also wanting a ltr and when we are done he immediately finds his true love and marries her! *sigh

I tell you, I have sent quite a few men down the aisle, straight into wedded bliss! This is not fiction and I don’t take this lightly even though I am able to joke about it these days. I used to think there was something wrong with me, because I remained single and they got married, had kids and many lived their version of happily ever-after.

My last long term relationship ended three and a half years ago. Since we remained friends, I know how happily married he is and he still thanks me for “Good Luck Chucking” him. Mind you, I really have tried to be the casual sex, FWB, no strings kinda woman and frankly, I suck at it. I am still making my peace with this in a world of increasingly emotionally disconnected people. I gave it a good college try but I am old school and set in my ways. My body has its own needs but my mind and heart have their overwhelming needs which dominate my physical desires.

We all have a purpose in this life and I accept that my purpose may be to prepare the man l love to be a good husband. Somewhere out there is my good luck Chuck.

I can be patient.

You may be jumping through hoops and climbing mountains
and just about knocking yourself out
trying to get something you really want.
That’s only a slight exaggeration, Moonchild.
You have been struggling with a dream for a long, long time.
You have tried everything you can think of and you may be at the point of complete exasperation.
But you have the power – you just aren’t using it to the fullest benefit.
You are a soulful person.
You are in touch with the magical and benevolent powers of the universe.
But you can only tap into them when you acknowledge your gift.
Don’t allow yourself to feel desperate.
Believe more and you will have more.

Sexual Chemistry Tastes Great

So I’m watching a romantic scene from a movie oh pick any movie where say the guy comes in from a night of drinking and his woman is in bed asleep. He learns over to give her a kiss, and because they are in love, the kiss involves tongue.

It is at this point that my stomach does a little lurch; I’m thinking she’s got morning breath and he’s got booze breath and then when they begin to have a conversation, I am too distracted to pay attention to the dialog and I wanna hurl in the back of my mouth a bit.

Now before you think me too anal, once I recall loving a man whose morning breath kinda canceled mine out sorta like when two people eat garlic chicken and they can’t smell it on each other but they reek to the high heavens to other people. Our stinky morning breath was not smelly and our tongues actually tasted sweet to each other. Most times in my life, if I had to talk in the morning, I did it under the pillow and he would avert his own head in some manner.

My taste buds are just so damn picky and I can’t have sex with a man that I don’t enjoy kissing or to be more exact, his saliva has to taste right in my mouth or my vagenda dries up and retreats into the innermost recesses of my body and I turn into a big curvy, lifeless, non-fuckable blow up doll! If you don’t taste good to my tongue, I’m not kissing you ever again.

The first and only time, I swallowed splooge, I was traumatized at the taste and texture of it and for a long time after, I would get shivers of revulsion and the bleachy smell would come flooding back to my memory. When men ask me if I swallow,I don’t hesitate to say no, even when it’s the deal breaker. Too damn bad!

Precum, however is most delicious and I would even be willing to spread it on toast and have some with my morning coffee.

My friends tell me I am too observant when watching movies in regards to certain details and wish I could just give in to the fantasy of the movie and stop wondering how you can kiss someone for a living who just tastes fucking nasty to your mouth.

Sexual chemistry cannot be predicted and no matter how good someone looks to me, the real test is how he tastes. Sexual chemistry tastes yummy and delicious.

On being a big woman

Last year shortly after I arrived in the desert, I had the occasion to be poolside at one of the hotels on the strip and for whatever reason, I was not feeling secure with my physicality. I’m in a swimsuit, but I don’t get in the water and as I sit there I notice this gorgeous couple a mere few feet in front of me. They were sunning in lounge chairs by the pool. I could see wedding rings on both of their hands and it stands to reason they were married to each other. Maybe not, who knows? The thing is they were affectionate with each other, rubbing sunscreen on each other and had that familiarity with each other that couples do.

The guy looked like a GQ model and the woman had that bikini-clad well coiffed from head to toe look. It was a pleasure to gaze upon them. Well, to my surprise, the guy turns around and spots me and when he looks again, I am taken aback a bit! Mind you, I have been told I can possess an exotic kind of beauty (at times) but I wasn’t feeling it at the time.

Once he’s seen me, he is discreet enough to not call her attention to it, but he keeps creating a reason to look at me as often as possible. This continued until I got up and left and mind you, he was kinda breathtakingly good looking. Thank goodness I am dark enough to conceal my blush.

If you read my blog regularly, you know I am a substantial woman. It’s all packed in boobs and butt, but definitely not mainstream’s concept of beauty. Think Queen Latifah before the breast reduction.

Now I’ll get to the point of this post.

For whatever reasons and I won’t even go into the whys of it all, bigger women can feel less than desirable and smaller women sometimes do the disrespectful thing and try to play you as if by virtue of being smaller, they are every man’s ideal woman. I appeal to a certain kind of man and the truth of the matter is, some men like women of a particular size, some like a range of sizes and that special man prefers women like me. Voluptuous. Curvy. Rubenesque. For the haters, fat.

Unless you know what kind of woman left an early sexual imprint on a man, you will just be ASSuming. Maybe he lost his virginity to the big girl who was the babysitter, or the first naked body he saw was the nanny, or the neighbor lady or maybe the skinny hot girls never gave him the time of day and it was a big girl who showed him the joys of sex and turned him on to pleasure where no bones exist. Just cushion and and welcoming expanse of flesh.

I know women who are big and their self-esteem suffers because they feel like if THEY were men, they would not fuck women who look like them. Pity. When a man does not only fuck them, but love them, they secretly despise the guy for wanting them thereby setting up a spiral of anger and frustration and when they are once again alone, they get to be right. Then food once again becomes their lover.

All big women are not alike either. There is the doughy fat girl, where she is big and soft and fluffy. There is the solidly big girl who is firm and muscular under a layer or two of fat. There are women with bellies that hang down mid-thigh, just as there are men who love them. The lesson I have learned throughout the years is, you have to love yourself wherever you are NOW. Not when you get those excess pounds off, but right this second as you curse the cellulite, the sagging boobs, the hips that make finding pants that fit right a nightmare, the double chin, the fat arms, the love handles, the roll of fat on your back. Whatever you perceive as your imperfections.

Know how freeing it is to stand naked in front of your man, cellulite forgotten, seeing the desire in his eyes because it’s YOU that is in front of him. What could be sexier than a confident woman? Not much.

Life is short and it’s time we be about our loving. Loving ourselves and each other.