Random weirdness from a tattoo-artist gun-toting biker-chick knitting foodie supernatural whovian with seven kids. Ecstatically married to slashingdashingwolf!
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Ok more about the Integrity Bash, if you can bear it

I didn’t get drunk or totally fried. From the time I got there, I averaged about 1 lite beer an hour, and an occasional whiff of inhalation therapy in the mountain air if it was offered. I don’t like to lose control of my faculties.

Some people don’t have that same reservation though. At one point after dark, one guy drank an entire 5th of Jaegermeister, then put on a gorilla suit (all but the mask) and proceeded to fall down everywhere.

Some guys set up a target on an oak tree and used it as a shooting range. One of them asked if I wanted to shoot my gun and I said, “Mine’s where people can’t see it, and it’s staying right there.” Whereupon several guys offered to help me find it.

Autumne is the most gracious hostess I’ve ever seen. One would have thought she was in a mansion instead of a field in the Tennessee mountains, with 150 people, a port-a-pot, and no running water. She was everywhere, greeting and accepting everyone, with gentility. I love her.

Mark, a client who ended up being my tent-mate, lives not too far away and intended to drive home. Two hours later it was more than apparent that that would be a bad idea. I told him he could share my tent if he behaved himself.

He kept losing things (his hat, his drink koozie, his CHAIR, for god’s sake) and I kept finding them. He also lost his hearing from the shooting, so not only was he fairly wasted but one had to shout at him.

That was great fun. I’d be talking to people & he’d come up & say, “What did you say?” and I’d tell them that he couldn’t hear for shit and then shout something totally off the wall at him. The people I was talking to knew that wasn’t what I said, but he didn’t have a clue.

At some point someone put a 12-pack of beer into MY cooler. Hey, it’s my cooler, right? I didn’t drink any of them bc I had my own, still. Later on I found out whose beer it was. Then I had one, with her permission. Because I’m nice like that.

I met a lot of people and mostly remembered their names. This is amazing, because while I’m nearly a genius with numbers, names are just sounds to me so I almost never remember them.

There was some incredible ink walking around there. I got lots of tattoo pictures.

I’m sure I consumed enough germs to innoculate me until the Bash next year.

And Mark (mostly) behaved himself. Gotta hand it to him, he took NO means NO seriously. Might have helped that my 9mm handgun with one in the breech was within reach.

We may never know.

Indeed, the idea of ‘winning the girl’ – of overcoming female objections or resistance through repeated and frequently escalating efforts – is central to most of our modern romantic narratives. (Female persistence, by contrast, is viewed as pathetic.) And the more I think about instances of creepiness, harassment and stalking that culminate in either the threat or actuality of sexual assault, the more I’m convinced that a massive part of the problem is this socially sanctioned idea that men are fundamentally entitled to persist. Because if men are meant to persist, then women who say no must only be rejecting the attempt, not the man himself, so that every separate attempt becomes one of a potentially infinite number of keys which might just fit the lock of the woman’s approval. She’s not the one who’s allowed to say no, not really; she should be silent and passive as a locked door, waiting patiently while the man runs through however many keys he can be bothered trying. And if he gets sick of this lengthy process and just breaks in? Well, frustration under those circumstances is only natural. Either the door shouldn’t have been there to impede him, or it shouldn’t have been locked.

The Creepiness Question (via notemily)
Its an extended rape fantasy narrative, is what it is. (via bad-dominicana)

JFC. THIS.

(via stfueverything)

I had a man interested in me about 18 months ago, who was married. I told him no, never, I would never date/consider/hook up with a married man. he said, oh ok, can I just talk to you & we’ll be friends? Alright. EVERY communication he had with me would start out as a friendly discussion and eventually turn to, would I talk sexually with him (No), would I reconsider, (No), would I meet him for (drinks, dinner, sex in the back of the Lexus) (HOW ABOUT NO!). It drove me nuts. In talking to Wolf about it (at the time, he was an actual male FRIEND), he said, “He’s being persistant because fifty nos and one yes is still yes.” I finally told the man that I was tired of his disrespecting my wishes, tired of his assuming I should just want him because he said so, tired of his turning every conversation that direction, tired of his power trip in not realizing that NO means NO. I never heard from him again. Wow what a bitch I was! [sarcasm included]

… a man who ignores a woman’s NO in a non-sexual setting is more likely to ignore NO in a sexual setting, as well.