photography ~ The Chase


Self Portrait 17/52


“With the catching ends the pleasures of the chase.”

– Abraham Lincoln


Like always, all images can be seen bigger on Flickr.


“Type hard, like you mean it!”


photography ~ Smile!


Self-Portrait 14/52

Smile! Happy looks good on you.


Hope you all have a fantastic day! 🙂  Like always, all images can be seen bigger on Flickr.


“Type hard, like you mean it!”

photography ~Meow~


‘Meow’  Self-portrait

“Show me your kitties!”

I love my kitties! Not many people have seen my kitties, although many have asked to.  Believe it or not, I keep my kitties inside more often than not.  They are very pretty kitties though, just the right size, soft, not too firm, the kind that feel really, really good when they rub up against you. I would know, because I’m always touching my kitties, always! But they are mine, so I can….and I do!

I understand that some people want to see as many kitties as possible. I’m kind of with you there, I too, am fascinated with kitties. Just know, you’ve already seen about as much of my kitties as you will ever see. However, because I’m the type of person that cares about you, and knows that you have needs, I’m going to share something with you….. there is this thing called ‘Google’, maybe you’ve heard of it? You can look at kitties all day long if you learn how to use it. Big ones, small ones, some the size of your head! For real, go try it!

If you are a kitty fan like me, here’s a little kitty ditty you’ll probably enjoy.  Whether you like country music or not, the lyrics alone are worth listening to.


“Type hard, like you mean it!”






‘Dismissed’ Self-Portrait


Didn’t expect my first self portrait of 2017 to be kind of depressing looking. Geez! I hope this isn’t a sign of things to come this year. :/

I was actually in a decent mood when I took this.  Of course, it was only 7am and everyone was still asleep, so I had no reason to be blah….yet.  As the day went on however….BLAH!  Maybe subconsciously I knew that when the the kids woke up they would act like awful demon spawns sent here to test every ounce of patience I had “kids”.  Ah…yes, my little angels! By the end of the day I was run ragged.  Didn’t help that I also felt old yesterday, I don’t usually feel that way, but I’m starting to notice how gravity is taking over my face, and I hate it. Thank goodness for make up, and Photoshop, and boobs that distract people from looking at my face. Even I, in this photo am staring down at my boobs, thinking “you’re all that’s saving me, don’t let me down, boobs!”

“Type hard, like you mean it!”

52 Weeks Of Photos ~2016~ Week 17


“My mind wanders and I get lost in thoughts of you.” Self-Portrait

The theme for this weeks photo is ‘Mirrored’.

I’ve had this idea in my head for a few days now. I love getting lost in thought. I do that often. Close my eyes and daydream, remembering moments, and fantasizing about new ones. Imagination is a wonderful thing.

I’ve gotta say, it’s difficult trying to keep a straight face when my husband is groping my boobs and trying to make me laugh. That….and having a boner resting against my back side. It happens. The things I have to suffer through for my art. No, no… don’t feel bad for me, I asked for it…over and over again. 😀


I love going through the photos after I take them and finding stuff like this. lol

“Type hard, like you mean it!”

My Boobs Aren’t Offensive, My Friends Are Uptight.


I have been slacking off in the writing department for far too long now. Like I said in my last post, way back when……like way back…like back in April back.

I’ve been a little busy with my photography and taking more self-portraits than any one person needs. But it’s my hobby, it’s fun, and I’m a bit narcissistic – so that makes it okay, right? Sure it does. Just agree with me.

Now with all of my photos I never show my bits or pieces, I just do implied nudity or suggestive photos. Let’s say boudoir style, it sounds better. It’s the genre I enjoy.

Recently I took the above photo of myself after seeing a similar photo on Pinterest. I loved it and had to recreate it. Yes…. had too!! So yeah- that’s me up there. Steamy!!

After taking the shot I shared it with my friends on Facebook. I say friends because my photos are set to be view by my friends only.

What floors me is that the photo was reported to Facebook for “nudity/pornography.” Huh?

First of all, nothing even shows in it.

Second of all, who the hell claims to be a friend and then does that?

Regardless, the photo is still on Facebook and I refuse to take it down on my own. I don’t see anything wrong with it. I think it’s tasteful, don’t you?

I still don’t know who reported the image or why, but I’m trying to get over it and move on.

It didn’t so much piss me off, but it hurt that someone I consider a friend would do that. I’m not an asshole and if they politely came to me I would have removed it or asked them to just un-friend me. The photo is not the most offensive photo that I have taken or posted. My language on Facebook is far more offensive than my photos would ever be so I’m surprised that an image would offend them at all.

After calming down a little I remembered a few things.

I like me.
I like my photos.
Some people are cunts.
When people tell me to stop doing something, the more I want to say “screw you.”

So I took this self-portrait below and posted it on Facebook the day after. I hope they got my message. Muhahahaha!!


“Type hard. Like you mean it!”

A Subject Close to My Heart…..Boobs!


Boobs, boobs, boobs!

I love boobs.  My boobs, other woman’s boobs, real boobs, fake boobs, man boobs (okay, not man boobs, I don’t hate them, but I don’t love them either – I’m indifferent).   I have no problem making this claim of love, and I am a heterosexual woman.  Boobs are beautiful, fun, and they bounce.  I love things that bounce…like balls…I love balls too!!

I can see why guys are obsessed with boobs though.  I touch mine all day long, and not for any kind of sexual gratification, but just because I fucking can.  I imagine that if I had a dick I would touch that all day too though.  Anyway…back to boobs, not to be confused with back boobs, those are not sexy.

So I realized that in at least 15 conversations over the years, including one just last week, I’ve said, “I know five women with fake boobs”, and this got me thinking.

Why do I say that? Just about everyone I know, knows that my boobs are….wait for it…..fake.  Ahhh, confessional– that felt good to get off my chest (see what I did there? Ya, it was lame).  I do know 4 other women with fake boobs too.

My family knows they are fake, the people I work with know, my in-laws don’t know, but I don’t keep it a secret.   I just haven’t found the right time to say, “hey, my tits are as fake as you pretending to like me.”  My kids don’t know either, but if they asked I would tell them.  One day they will know.

Anyway, after giving it some thought, I realize why I say, “I know woman with fake boobs” instead of saying, “I have fake boobs”.  It’s so that I don’t feel like I have I justify why I got mine.  People can be judgy, so I just talk about the other women I know that have them instead.

I would like to share why I have fake boobs, and no, my real ones didn’t try to kill me (not with cancer anyway…..just by fucking with me mentally).

First, I would like to take a moment to celebrate (by clapping alone in my living room), my boobs are ten years old as of this past August.  I’ve nurtured them, loved them, hugged them and raised them to be the gorgeous girls they are today. Yippee, pretty boobs!!

It all started when I was four…. no, that’s a crock of shit.  As soon as I noticed my boobs weren’t coming in,  I wanted them, so maybe since I was 13 or so.  Yes, I do have some self-esteem issues, but that is not the reason I wanted to have boobs.  Boobs, to me anyway, are feminine and sexy, and make you feel beautiful.  Yes, I was beautiful with out them, blah, blah, blah.  But I feel like a fucking sex goddess with them.   When I put an outfit on, my boobs are the accessories that completes the look.  I can wear tight shirts,  low-cut shirts, or clingy dresses and actually fill them out now. Plus, I’m always flashing my husband, which is great for my marriage.  My boobs have given me the confidence that I didn’t have before.  I’ve always had a good sex drive, but the boobs gave me that boost I needed to be a little less inhibited, and instead of covering my chest, I’m like “look at these, motherfucker!”

I am lucky enough to have a small frame, my boobs give me the figure I had always wanted, but I struggle to maintain my weight and I have to work at it.  I am not naturally “skinny”, and sadly, I can’t eat whatever the fuck I want without gaining weight.

When I was married to my previous husband, I got down to about 97 lbs  (way too skinny for me by the way).  I did it the healthy way, but I looked anorexic.  Anyway, at 97 lbs, with no boobs and a pixie haircut.  I looked like a 12 year old boy, or a 19 year old butch lesbian, neither was flattering (to me anyway).  During that phase,  I got pregnant with my my now 11 year old daughter.  When I was pregnant, I grew boobs, it was pretty cool, but I also gained a ton of weight. I just looked like a fat person with fat tits.  Like a lot of new moms, I decided to breastfeed.  Do you know what breastfeeding does to boobs? It is not pretty!!!!   By the time I was done having the life sucked out of me, I looked like I stepped from the pages of National Geographic, and I only breastfed for 6 weeks.  My already smaller than A (yes, smaller than A) boobs, were now flabby and small. That didn’t make sense to me, I just had saggy skin that I referred to as my boobs, talk about not feeling sexy or like a woman.

I told myself at that time, “I’m done waiting, I’m getting a boob job.”  I knew that in order to justify the boobs, I needed to lose the baby weight, otherwise I still wouldn’t be happy with what I saw in the mirror.  I needed to like all of me first.  When my daughter was 10 months old, I had lost my baby weight and got to a healthy 110 lbs (did I say I got up to 187 lbs when I was pregnant–ouch! another confession).  All that was missing up to that point, was boobs.

I love the way fake boobs look by the way, and that’s what I wanted– boobs that looked fake, high, perky, round, and gorgeous from the side, top, bottom and every angle.  I didn’t go into this looking for realistic or natural boobs.  I wanted the fake, Playboy, pretty boobs, and that’s what I got.  My then, negative A’s, are now round perky modest D’s, and I fucking love them.

Not a day goes by without me loving my boobs.  My implants are saline, placed behind the muscle, and they were inserted underneath my breast.  So yes, there is a small scar, but IDGAF (I don’t give a fuck), because I got them for me, and me alone.  At the time, the cost was $5200.00 where I live, $2600.00 each, and I would pay that again and again to feel the way I feel having them.  It was an investment, an investment in me, and I’m worth it.  It can be hard to remember that once you become a parent, to do things for yourself.  It did come with guilt, there were a lot of things that money could have gone towards, but I became a happier person, and that made me a better mother.

Fake boobs are not for everyone, I get that.  You might love your small boobs and that’s great…for you.  If you want to belong to the itty-bitty-titty-commitee then go for it, it’s not for me.  People need to be happy with themselves, and if that means getting fake boobs, then get boobs, if that means new clothes, then get those. Improve your education or wear makeup, a nose job, whatever it is that makes you feel good, do it!  Invest in yourself, but please don’t be quick to judge me.

I’m a mother that loves my kids.

I’m a wife that loves my husband.

I’m a woman with a nice rack!  and by “nice”, I mean perfect for me.

“Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful, there are so many other reasons too”

I’ve had two more kids since my boob job, one is 19 months old, the other is 6 months old.  My boobs looked “blah” during my pregnancies and shortly after, but I’m happy to say they’ve bounced back and my figure has too.

Just for the record, if I ever have to have my breast removed due to cancer, I would do it of course.  I would cry like a baby, but my life is more important than my boobies.

I believe that women with small boobs or no boobs are just as sexy.  Sexy is an attitude, the way you feel, the way you present yourself is what makes “sexy” a thing.  What is sexy to me,  may not be what is sexy to you, and that’s o-fucking-k.

I just believe, “if you look good, you feel good, and if you feel good, you do good.”   Yes, I am shallow at times,  I’m okay with that.  I’m almost 40 years old and I accept who I am.

My boobs make me feel good, physically and emotionally.

Go Boobs!!!


“Type hard!  Like you mean it!”

The groping game

Keep things interesting in your life.  My husband and I are like a couple of horny teenagers most days.  Every chance we get, one of us is groping the other.  Either it’s him grabbing at my boobs or ass or me grabbing his junk.  We can’t walk by one another without groping at something.  Half the time it’s just done because ‘we can’. 

We have a house full of kids, so this can be challenging at times.  As of recently we find ourselves trying to get away with it more and more without the kids noticing.  We have four girls in the house, two of them still crap their pants and have no clue, but the other two would know what was going on if they caught us. 

So our game:  Who can get away with groping while the kids are in the same room without being caught.  I swear, we are good parents, but don’t you wonder what the fuck your parents did when you were a kid? 

Each time one of the kids turns around or their gaze moves to another direction, one of us is grabbing at the other one.  This makes for a fun time and it keeps things interesting in our house.  So now we just randomly shout out points, like I will grab his junk real quick and shout out, “50 points!”.  Flashing is point worthy too, of course this is easier for me than my husband so I usually win. The goal is not to get caught by the kids, otherwise– huge point deduction there, well that and you don’t want your kids to see that shit.  This is also fun in public, around anyone in fact. So have fun, add some fun into your marriage and try it.  But don’t get caught, you don’t want to encourage that ‘groping’ is fun to your kids.

We are thinking of a point system for this and maybe set a daily goal– gotta have goals.  I will be sure to post them if we do.

“May the odds be forever in your favor”

“May the force be with you”

and other stupid quotes that people use way to fucking much!

“live long and prosper”

but my favorite because it’s mine

“Type hard! Like you mean it!”

Boob names

Rambling about boob names, that’s all this is.  It’s either this or nothing, and I felt like writing something.- so there you go.

It’s really dumb.  You should move along and not waste your time.

Seriously- I fucking warned you.  This isn’t some trick with an exciting twist at the end.  Just random crap.


We have a ‘handful’ of names for boobs in my house.  We shared them (the names) with our girls, they laughed.  Yes, we are those parents, inappropriate.  Nothing wrong with a little humor and laughing with your kids.  Of course, we do caution them to not repeat half of the stuff they hear at home, it wouldn’t be received well by others and they would probably get taken from us by the state.  So here are a few of the names, nothing you haven’t heard before.



-the girls


-ant hills




-sand bags (from “The 40 Year Old Virgin”)

-chicken cutlets (I think that one is my favorite)

-ba-who-bees (that’s actually from their kid shows- I like that one)


If feels good to have gotten that off my chest.

Just wanted to keep you abreast of the situation here.

I’m not always funny, but you can stop reading too- so piss off. 

Plus I warned you that this was a shit post.

“Talk hard! Like you mean it!”