You Say You Want a Revolution

Start the Revolution Without Me
Start the Revolution Without Me (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
The U.S. vs. John Lennon (soundtrack)
The U.S. vs. John Lennon (soundtrack) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In the midst of social media, I have found one redeeming quality; the right to be proven wrong.
There has been a growing long distance relationship between myself and a heterosexual male from Detroit
This meeting of the minds happened over a year ago and I am grateful for the growth it has given me everyday of my ‘not always politically correct but trying’ life.
Who doesn’t love a verbal or written spar? I have always relished in it. And, for that matter, my upbringing has called for it and embraced it. Though often I hear these words, your mouth is always getting you in trouble.’
So be it. My buddy from Detroit miles and piles of shit in between our locales, is liberal, political, substantial and disabled! What a find! With very little encouragement on my part, D, as I will call him, will find the smallest hole in an argument and take it to the highest plateau…drop it and see what it hits on it’s way down.
Today and tonight our focus is on Too Much Government! Too Many Cooks stirring the Biochemical Pot, so to speak.
Perhaps, D is right, it isn’t that there is too much government but more along the lines of too much trash talk and not enough put your money where your mouth is.
Why dwell on our Dumbed Down Ambien’s of America‘s Upper Middle Class Wasteland?
Yet, spar with intellectuals who want to see change.
In a simpler manner and/or along the lines of a story I will explain exactly what I mean:
I had met Ambien/Annie Grace who could have be easily mistaken for a Brittany or a Katelyn or a Mercedes!
I had asked, ‘so you are voting for Obama, right?’
Response, ‘Nope, my Father Floyd says he wants to ruin Medicare and offer hand outs to the poor.’
Aghast I spoke with as even a tone as I could muster, ‘but you’re gay! How could you even remotely think of voting for someone who can’t stand the ground you walk on?’

Response from Dumbed Down Twenty-Something, ‘gee, I never thought of it that way. I don’t plan on getting married any time soon, though…if that means anything’

What is right? What is wrong?
If we don’t push our educated selves into seeing beyond the glass slipper we will fail to make any change. To educate via a high education is one thing. To acquire the necessary depth it takes to make ineffectual effectual actually requires the wanting to go beyond words and to search for their meaning.
Thank you, D, you are a delight in a world ashen and paled by devices devised to make us more convenient.
Shame on you parents, colleges, workplaces and a vast array of other Holier Than Thou Institutions for sending these kids out into the world with their thumb up their ass and their diploma a flag of still waters running not so deep.

An Ambien Knock Off

Did not I cast the first stone  And then justify the blame
Did not I cast the first stone
And then justify the blame

What if I came at you with such loose labels as; fag, dyke, nigger, towelhead?
Where did the labels and the name calling begin? Does it sit with me, a woman deemed by many to have no soul, a romantic vulture and/or a narcissist who is in it to win it?
Has my ego became so large that what seems like a Robin Hood idealism is nothing but a poorly painted shell without a psyche? Had I given into the thought of turning the tables? Helping a baby dyke with diaper changing? Allowed for a path to be shown and to which, every Ambien volunteer could veer right or left. Was the purposeful lesson of ‘dignity for all’ an idea that started from within and, slowing given the option to be drawn upon a photographer’s lens with no right or wrong picture…
Indeed, am I politically correct to consider my own kind denouncing ME and US by their own admission of ignorance and indifference a vagrant’s vain attempt of learning through osmosis?
Had I offered the nakedness of picture taking perfect as an easy out? A simplictic yes or no answer? A fourth grader’s mechanical choice of right or wrong?
Because my spotted calf had chosen what sat behind door number one, homophobic lesbianism,on her own…she personally went about slicing the throats of all who walked a similar beat. A decision made for the sake of ‘the highest reward’ a parent’s grace.
Had all the obvious roads not taken been made more childlike, a toddler would have sat in my bed. But that was not the case.
If there is not an equation set before the dumbfounded and confused what there ever be an answer? And,, does anyone have the right to choose our rights by ignoring the hard-earned paths of others.
Philanderer, philosopher or plain old, sex fiend…I suppose that would be a tough call.
Yet, when the offer of an open door policy is erected within the rules of couple-dom, is it not the choice that makes us moral or not?
I have decided this:
To an extent to which there have been so much bullying by indifference that a Pavlov’s Dog needed to come to life.
I hung the treat in front of the young and naïve subject’s mouth and offered reward and/or punishment.
How can it be when given these options there is no right or wrong, just a simple and complete means to an end:
Choosing to work legitimately as most adults do/ Opting to work without acknowledgement of tax and therefore, indeed taking food from the mouths of the poor.
AmeriCorps/VISTA/FEMA exploiting the good nature of her republic by ignoring the simple facts; partying, dancing, karaoke, free housing and 24/7 access to social media versus: volunteering without pay for the sake of volunteering without need for reward other than self fulfillment.
Opting to choose the consequences of our behavior and/or hiding behind labels and faulty advertisement and hidden surnames.
We all have choices!
Point of the matter, the lack of prayer in the classroom, the distance between war and peace, the hatred for each other that derives itself from an unknown origin, all stems from our own ability to evade the choice which maybe difficult. The ulterior motives in all of us, once laid out like a fresh turd on a hot’s summer’s day is our downfall.
The Ambien’s, the Annie‘s, the Brittany‘s and the Jeremy‘s of our nation’s newest real reality show are but simple knock offs. For it is far easier to fashion one’s self to difference than proclaim the choice ourselves

we are only what our choices allow us to be
we are only what our choices allow us to be


A Path of Thorns

the parting out of today's misguided many


What are you feeling right now?
Tell me honestly
Are you crying? And, did you take something for the anxiety?


Twenty-Something Dialogue-


Just down
Trying not to cry…
She just doesn’t understand how miserable she made me…a good reason why I drank so much was because of her!
She’s always turning the tables so it’s about her and not me!
I might cry because all I want is to be with you and I will never have you fully. My mother doesn’t get me, my friends just want me to get drunk and I have nowhere I can go. I don’t know how to live on my own.
Let’s just skip the Skype tonight…
You were right; it does suck to have hurtful things said. So I will see you tomorrow.
I can’t take back what I said
I can only try and make it up to you…


So, then I stood back and tried to understand her better.
Sometimes she liked it rough, sex, that is.
Sometimes she liked it, quiet and meaningful and lasting, anything but the sex.
Most the time she wanted me to take control until she was ready to steer the wheel.
That was how our relationship had been in and  outside of sex.


I understand it better now…


What is difficult for every adult? I mean persons with an ego, making decisions, taking care of others more than themselves, persons unlike those born in the last twenty years or so.
What the drastic difference is and always will be; the lack of complete and total engagement in ideas that seem so remote they couldn’t even start a fire doused in kerosene.
Ambien Grace’s and Gracie Williams and Annie’s and Brittany’s and Mercedes and Kayla’s seem to believe that being different can be as common as a cold and should be taken easily and with it’s my right, I earned it attitude.  While all the time buying into the propaganda of live streamed life.


“Vast as the sea and deep as you can be!”
Is not a statement that revolves around the Skype Junkies and the Toilet Queens of Bulimic Bigotry? These children who profess to want deep and meaningful relationships spend all their money on love and not an ounce on foresight.
Prime example, take one twenty-something who says something along the lines of ‘I just don’t want to talk about it tonight…I want to go get some ice cream…you know talking about my mother upsets me!’
Life is upsetting. Relationships via platonic or lasting are beyond upsetting. Yet, they are what hold us together. Makes two seem like one and even when the division doesn’t seem to work, you find another way around the equation.
Frightening as it seems the generation before mine, the Baby Boomers; are left in the hands of scads of adults still fighting for a cause. The scenario that dismays is not that we cannot change the world we have been given. It is that the generation trailing has put all they have learned into acronym boxes and sent them via text to others with the same mindset.
If it’s a broken relationship don’t fix it. If it’s a busted heart do not mend it. If it is a matter of two roads diverged in the woods…always, always, always, stir clear of the path with roses for there may be some thorns.


Diaries of a Sex Addict

<a href=”http://Anniecouvillion.Com Trust“>

Orgasm Addict
Orgasm Addict (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Excerpt from the taunting sex tales of ambiguity amongst Gracie Willams of the world:

I like it when someone’s full weight is on me when I give myself an orgasm. It amuses me and my ego when someone gets off watching me get off. Almost like letting someone see the real you and than pulling the curtain shut!
ha-ha just wait till you get me to orgasm its weird looking ha-ha-ha! I contort, shake and my face gets puffy and swollen. A sight to scare the sexual-ness out of any formidable lover.
I just can’t get my body to relax when I’m fucking someone. Some have come close to giving me what I want…but than I just drift away to my own little world.

I have fucked over 220 times in a matter of four or five months. And, it was all the same thing.
I don’t know how many times I’ve used these lines. To me it’s just another day not in paradise:

…you don’t have to make me orgasm to make me happy.

…you get me weak in the knees when your in me, you give me goose bumps, you get my nipples hard

…your doing so much better than anyone I’ve have slept with

…you are doing everything right, its me

…I think I have a back of the mind fear of letting myself go

And, so it goes to Kate the psycho-bitch and my pleas for pleasing:

…no body has ever gotten that close with me. you made my body feel amazing. I can still feel the essence of your fingers in me and your shoulder and head on my stomach pulling your finger in and out of me

…you made me extremely happy….until we got caught by the police and then I was disappointed ha-ha

I adore it when it’s rough. I feel I deserve it. I witness my mother’s stoic head looming above my love victims. I hear her same old song and dance…Ambien, no one will ever love you. You are unlovable.
Sex, sex and more wonton, sex. The volunteering has put some showers on the self-love. However, late at night when I turn my anger inwards, I find myself taking care of my own business, like nobody’s business. Who knows? Maybe, a Brittany, Amber, Mercedes or Jeremy might want to just sit and watch.
It’s so hard to find good help now a days!

limitless are the travels with Annie Grace
limitless are the travels with Annie Grace/

Self Love Run Rampant

Lending a Helping Hand


Like Momma always said, when life hands you a dirty pair of underwear…don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
So, yeah, I made from New Mexico to D.C., to Virginia…Shit, I am so happy with myself.
Thing is…I have a problem.
Well, I am my problem, we all know that. But with this volunteering thing, being in closed in quarters, housing big bodies with small ambitions, has me just a wee bit concerned.
I masturbate at least three or four times a day. Got to the point, I’d have to excuse myself at work every hour on the hour. Deal with situation, wipe myself down and clean up the mess.
Unfortunately, I turn myself on so I am the only one who can turn ‘myself’ off. My anger, my pride, my ignorance, my abandonment issues, I turned them all into a game.  It beats my old game of self mutilation!
Bad masturbation is better than none at all; at least in Ambien Grace’s world.
To maintain the lifestyle I’ve grown accustomed to I have to hide beneath the covers late at night. After all the We Be Dweebs are napping from a hard day of putting boxes together for some charity or another. And, in order for me to achieve full orgasm, as many of the victims from my romantic crime sprees will tell you, I need at least two hours.
That is very hard when Mercedes, Jennifer, Brittany and the ‘gals’ from Blue Troop for Blue Big Girls, are all within a hot and harried sexual arm’s length away.
I suppose I could give it a whirl in the communal bathroom. Tell everyone I had a bad fifth round of dinner down at the mess hall.
I kind of want to keep the communal shower thing off limits for now. I like to keep that as a DH. Designated Hitter when my own filthy thoughts aren’t enough to get my by or off!
Maybe I’ll just pop a pill. Roll my big ass over and think about something that turns me off…
I know, I’ll imagine myself as a grown up!