Seriously not surprised

Your Quirk Factor: 76%

You're so quirky, it's hard for you to tell the difference between quirky and normal. No doubt about it, there's little about you that's "normal" or "average."

How Quirky Are You?

Ginger anyone?

(Note: Seriously guys, none of these links are safe for work or opening around your children or minister. Priests, on the other hand, should be ok, ‘cause I get the feeling this was created by Catholics.)

Imagine this: It’s my day off, and I’m messin’ around on the internet. When all of a sudden I innocently click on a link that takes me to this site.

Before I found this site, I honestly thought I had a well rounded knowledge off all sexual practices. Boy, was I wrong! For all of you who are like me and have never heard of Figging before, here's what trusty Wikipedia has to say on the subject:

Figging is a sexual practice involving the insertion of a prepared "finger" of ginger root or even a chile pepper into the anus. The burning sensation is said to induce intense pleasure. The technique is used by some practitioners of BDSM. Ginger may enhance sexual pleasure by increasing blood flow to the genitals. The genital muscles, supplied with more energy, can produce especially powerful orgasms.

Wikipedia goes on to state: The practice is sometimes said to have originated in a preparation technique for show horses, where an irritating "fig" would be inserted into their anus to induce them to hold their tail high. (Ok, seriously, What kind of person, while shoving a “fig” up a horses ass, thinks to himself; “I wonder what would happen if I shoved this up my girlfriends ass?”)


I’m still a little shocked that I’d never head of this and I’m sure I will be a little weirded out (yeah, I get that weirded is not really a word. Bite.me.) until I get used to the thought of it, but far be it for me to have a problem with something that gives you “especially powerful orgasms”. In fact, I could use a few especially powerful orgasms myself... ;)

The post in which the talking mongoose makes his first and hopefully only appearance.

I had the most fucked up dream the other night. I know that most people have no interest in the dreams of other people but stick with me here. I promise to keep it short and you may even get a few chuckles out of it.

The Dream: The Bear and I were living with our parents. I mean, his mom and dad AND my mom and dad. (In real life, this is horrible enough to make suicide worth the trouble.) As I walked into my bedroom I noticed a very large snake slithering under my pillow. So I did what any logical wife would do…I went to find my husband and make him get rid of the snake. He comes back into the bedroom with me and our pillows are shaking on the bed. He reaches under the pillows and pulls out…a three-foot-tall talking mongoose with a Jersey accent wearing a lumberjack shirt and jeans.

The Bear and I both are like, “What the fuck is that thing, and what is it doing here?”

The three foot tall talking mongoose is like, “Yo, I’m a mongoose. I’m here to catch the snake.”

Yeaahhh…

I’m gonna go find some sort of psychiatric help now.

And I should probably lay off the Melatonin.

hmm...not a bad idea

In an e-mail I received from Big D and The Bear.

and he’s out...

Last night my brother finally came out to our parents. And while I feel the need to blog about this, I don’t really know what to write.

I am so very proud of Billabong for having the courage to face mom and dad. Don’t get me wrong, my parents are wonderful people; There was never any real chance that they would do something stupid like scream and yell and tell him to get out of the house.

But there is always the disappointment factor.

When I was growing up, it did not matter how mad my mom was with me, as long as she was never disappointed in me. Disappointment is always so much worse than anger. And even though my parents are definitely freaked out by this, I know they will never be disappointed with my brother for being true to himself.

Even though I was not there when it happened, I know my family well enough that I can picture it all in my head. I can see the look on my parents’ face, the look that says, “well, we knew this day would come eventually.” Billabong told me later that dad kept fidgeting with the things on his bedside table while they were talking.

But the point is, they did talk…about everything.

They could have easily said that they were ok with this but then refused to talk about it under the assumption that if you refuse to discuss it it will go away. Instead, my parents really stepped up to the plate. And for that, I couldn’t be more proud of them. Sometimes, it’s too easy to forget how lucky we (my siblings and I) are when it comes to parents. I mean, my mom and dad are, for lack of better words…completely insane. And, in turn, they drive their children crazy on a daily basis. But they are always there when we need them, and it honestly doesn’t get any better than that.