MyFridayBlog is Independent

Hello dear reader(s)!

Here in the good ol’ US of A, it is Independence Day.  On this day, we decided to leave the UK which was maybe a good idea given Brexit and the Tories, but we fucked it up by electing Trump.  I guess dying by losing healthcare is better than being burned alive in a fucking tower, though.

Anyway, I’m not really celebrating ‘Merca today.  What’s to celebrate?  We are being fucking assholes.

So, I’m finally feeling like I can start being back at this shit again a little more regularly.  I am sorry for the false starts, reduced schedules which I couldn’t keep to, etc, etc…

A lot of shit has happened recently, that left me in no position to be able to post.  They include, but are not limited to…

  • 2 recent moves  1 long distance, 1 across town that was sudden and unexpected.
  • Falling deeply in love  When you start trying to spend all your time with someone, it doesn’t leave much time for blog-type-thinging.  I am still deeply in love, only now I can blog-type-thing while still spending time with my beloved.
  • A multi-day hospitalization  Severe sepsis is what they called it, although I think it was only a mild bacteremia.
  • Outpatient infusions  Having to get IV antibiotics through a PICC line for days after my hospital release due to the bacteremia/sepsis.
  • Dealing with an SSDI review  That likely will not take my most recent hospitalization into account.  Good times.
  • Worrying about the vast majority of my town being on fire  Okay, that is more recent, but still…  Meanwhile, in the area of a fire yesterday that has burned over 13,500 acres, dumbfucks are still lighting off illegal fireworks.  ‘Merca.
  • Enjoying delicious scones  Well, they are good, and do take time away.  Right now I am enjoying a delicious vanilla scone with a lime glaze, courtesy of my love.
  • Freaking out about the lack of “humanity” among humans especially those idiots who think that being patriotic is waving a piece of cloth made in another country for profit as the very ideals that piece of cloth are supposed to represent are no longer important to them 

Anyway, despite my definite decision not to celebrate this day of nationalism and false superiority, I will be barbecuing later today.  Not with anyone but those close to me, and not for Independence Day but just because it is going to be hot, everyone else will be barbecuing which will lead to barbecue aroma envy, and I like to barbecue.

We will be making uncured nitrate and nitrite free dogs, with potato salad.  I am rather excited by this development and might live-stream the whole event on my FUCKLIVESTREAMING account if I feel there is enough interest.

So, long story slightly less long and candy coated for your enjoyment, I am back, bitches!  (I understand “bitches” may be offensive to some, but that is okay, because you can call me a bitch and I won’t care, and if a certain someone were to in the correct context, I might actually enjoy it, or I might not, but that is none of your business, is it?)

I look forward to reestablishing myself as a regular post-type-thinger and reader, and you should too, because I said so and you have not fought a revolution against me to get out from under my rule.

Happy Day, everyone!

 

 

Sex And Magick

Hello dear reader(s)!

Let’s start with a warning for those who freak out of over the concept of sex…

WARNING:  This post talks about sex baby.  It talks about you and me.  It talks about all the good things and the bad things that can be.  It talks about sex.  It talks about sex.  It talks about sex.  It talks about sex.  

That’s protected by parody laws, FYI.

If you’ve been reading this here blog-type-thing for any amount of time, I feel very bad for you.  But that’s not the point here.  If you have been reading this here blog-type-thing for any amount of time, you know that I am someone who is proudly sex-positive.

Being sex-positive, I view sex positively.  It’s right there in the words.  You’d know that if you paid attention in class.  I think nothing is inherently wrong between consenting adults with full knowledge of everything involved.

What is really cool (besides me), is that in my spiritual path, sex is viewed positively.  In fact, Beltaine is coming.  And Beltaine, is a very sexual Sabbat.  Sure it is the halfway point of the year, but in marking the changes that are taking place at that time, sex is certainly a huge a part of it all.  The bees are pollinating.  Taking away the flowers by taking their pollen and fertilizing the plants that will bear fruit.  If that doesn’t bring sex to mind, then you are a far cleaner thinker than I and I feel bad for your partner(s).

In my path, you can even practice magick using sex, called…wait for it, sex magick.  (I know, right?  Who would’ve thought magick during sex would be called sex magick?  That’s just totally unrelated!)  Anyway, I am not going to go into the practice of sex magick.  I am not an instruction manual, unless someone specific wanted a lesson, and called me “teacher”.  Maybe just showed up one day, like today.  And said, “Teacher, can you teach me sex magick, pleeeeeease?”  Maybe then.  Maybe.  If she was lucky.

But you don’t have to practice sex magick or be pagan to know sex is a kind of magic in and of itself.   (Notice the change to just magic, without the K.  That was intentional.  See, things can be magical but not magick.  It’s an interesting distinction.  Like a square is always a rectangle, but a rectangle isn’t always square.  I am getting off topic here.  Shapes get me all worked up.  Mmmm.  Quadrilaterals…..)

Sex bonds most people.  (Better than duct tape, even.)  It can keep connections strong.  It can allow people to feel safe and comfortable.  It can allow people to explore what is inside of themselves.  (How did that get in there?!?!)  It can lead to a deeper understanding of your partner(s) and yourself.  (Nice and deep…)  It can be an outlet for your deepest emotions and desires.  (Butter pecan ice cream?!?)

And sex can hurt.  If used improperly, it is capable of great harm.  Sex is powerful, and must be treated with respect.  “With great power, comes great responsibility.” – The rice guy.

Anything so powerful is magical.

In witchcraft, the acts you do, the spells you do, matter far less to the determination of whether it is light or dark magick than your intent.   (Which isn’t to say that anything you do in the name of magick is acceptable.  Like, no playing Nickelback during a spell or something equally horrific like live sacrifice.)

The same could be said for sex.  The acts, while they can be wonderful, (very, very wonderful, if you’re with me, baby…), matter far less than your intent.

You don’t have to be a follower of my path or a believer in magic to know that sex is powerful.  Even if you are a member of a more puritanical system of beliefs, you know that much of trying to control sex is based on the power it can have over someone.  Or the power it can give them.

But it’s my opinion that there is nothing wrong with power if you use it properly.  Whether it is magical power, sexual power, political power (can we please get someone to use that properly?), or any other kind of power.

Taking power over our lives, our bodies, and our desires is our right.  It can lift us up and remind us that we are feeling, passionate human beings.  It can remind us of what is within us that makes up a huge part of who we are.  It can also make us feel really fucking good.

For as much as sex is shied away from in our society, it is important to remember that we are only here because of the magic of sex.  Just because the sex you have isn’t intended to reproduce, it is not accident that in the right combination it is literally why we are here.  Fortunately, not every type of sex or every sex act is intended to cause reproduction.  The world is overpopulated enough as it is, and not everyone is intended to reproduce.  That is magic.

Straight sex, gay sex, self sex, monogamous sex, poly sex… if it is something between consenting adults who are fully aware of the factors at play, you are feeling the magic.  (If you are not totally selfish, your partner(s) is/are too.)  If your intentions are good, rough sex, vanilla sex, whatever you like, is good, positive magic and you should be proud to be living a magical life.

I hope this season is very magical for all of you.   😉

I leave you with a little mood music.

Featured Image By Yoninah – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=10216975

Ostara Greetings

Hello dear reader(s)!

Blessed Ostara!  Or Happy Spring Equinox!  Or Happy Vernal Equinox, for those of you Vern worshipers.

I’ve decided that I need a Stonehenge.  I think it would a be a really great addition to my local community and I believe it should be installed post-haste.  I would like to see it up on a hill, surrounded by fields.  And none of this half-crumbling shit either.  I think it should be constructed as originally intended.  And I could charge a fee for entry to anyone who wanted to see it except on the equinoxes and solstices when it would be free to all who wish to bask in the glory of the light of the sunrise as it aligns with the structures.

Maybe I should start a Kickstarter.

Tonight I have an Ostara celebration to attend.  I am rather excited, except my post-nasal drip is still bothering me.  It needs to stop, post-haste.

Like the other equinox (that which shall not be named, today anyway, because it isn’t all about that one), today is a day for balance.  That is a good thing, because my post-nasal drip has really fucked up my equilibrium so I can use all the balance I can get.  I do not intend to drink tonight as it would be hard enough to balance during a field sobriety test stone-sober (although being stoned, isn’t exactly sober, so I really don’t get that term).  I shall not be stoned either, unless I got some bad Sudafed.

I intend to do a spell to increase the power of the Sudafed that I shall take so I am hopefully not coughing or spewing mucus all over the new people I meet.  “Blessed (cough!  hack!) Ostara!!!”  {Extends slimy hand outward for people to look at disgustedly before running away.}

The festivities are potluck style, so I need to bring something.  I was thinking deviled eggs, as eggs are traditional to the whole fertility, rebirth aspect of this particular festivity, but deviled eggs are a pain in the ass and need to be kept cool in order not to give everyone Ostaritis, an Ostara specific food poisoning.  I may just do some phallic shaped bread (easy enough, most bread loaves are cock-shaped) and like an artichoke dip or something else low maintenance.

Today is expected to be the last good weather day here for a while.  In fact, this evening, it should rain.  I can live with that.  As long as it doesn’t snow, I will be a happy camper, only I am not camping anywhere.

Today is a good day to grow your intentions, just as a farmer would be growing crops to harvest later.  I need to think about what mine are.  I know a few, but I really need to make them more concrete, as this cement alone is just too weak.  Besides, having an intention like, “I intend to make that woman cum more times that she ever thought possible.” is great and all, just probably not the most beneficial intention to have for my life.

I actually do have a few real goals.  Real goals I am progressing toward despite my post-nasal drip.  I must take those goals and the momentum made toward them and transform them into Autobots.  I must take those goals and combine them to determine what they mean for an overall intention of how I want to live the remaining time I have here in this life.  I must prevent them from transforming into Decepticons.

I need to get up and shower, so I can go get the food.  I need to take Sudafed, so I can make it through the shower.  I need to end this post-nasal drip post-haste, and make it a no-nasal drip.  I need to stop saying things like post-haste.  There, those are my intentions.  That shit was easy.

Blessed Ostara one and all, and to all, a good day or night.  Or both.  You know what?  How about a good as long as you want it to be good?  Why not?  Why should I be stingy with my good wishes?  What are we teaching the children?!?!

 

 

 

Saint Day of Paddy’s

Hello dear reader(s)!

Today is Saint Patrick’s Day.  I don’t celebrate Saint Patrick’s Day.  Why would I celebrate someone who made Ireland into a theocracy where nuns threw babies into septic tanks rather than acknowledge that woman might fuck when they’re not married and those babies aren’t evil?  Why celebrate that Ireland getting Christianity caused women’s rights to be stomped on for decades?

I love Ireland, don’t get me wrong.  I think it is beautiful.  I think the people there are pretty awesome.  I love how they voted to legalize same-sex marriage over fierce opposition from the church.  I love the many Irish accents.  I love the traditional Irish music.  I love the beer, and some of the food.  I love the language.  I love all of the history and all of the Celtic and Gaelic influence.

And this is where Saint Patrick actually is a problem for me.  He drove the snakes out of Ireland.  The snakes were not actual snakes.  The snakes were a metaphor for the Pagans.  The Celtic and Gaelic influence that Ireland still hangs onto was Pagan.  As a Pagan, why should I celebrate that?

So I don’t.

But like Christians celebrating a combination of Yule and Saturnalia, and calling it Christmas, I am going to celebrate on the day for my own reasons.  I don’t celebrate Saint Patrick’s Day, the solemn religious holiday that used to be dry until Ireland realized that they could make a serious amount of tourist dollars by allowing the kind of drunken partying that used to only happen in the US, I celebrate St. Paddy’s Day.  St. Paddy’s Day, while, yes could be short for Saint Patrick’s Day, isn’t to me.  Instead, it is a celebration of Irish culture, art, and a time to eat, drink, and be merry.

Plus, I get to wear my cool green stuff.

Saint Patrick actually was known for a light blue color.  The wearing of green didn’t become popular until the movement for an Irish Republic began to take hold.  So wearing my green today, is not celebrating Saint Patrick, it is celebrating Éire (Ireland).  Éire, incidentally, comes from Ériu, which was the name of a Gaelic goddess, the matron goddess of Ireland, a goddess of the land.

I’m not Irish.  Well, I mean, I’m not Irish enough to call myself Irish.  I don’t think up to a quarter of my ethnicity being Irish really makes me Irish at all.  But I do know that I am absolutely fascinated by Ireland, and by all things Irish.  So, I am going to celebrate today, based on that and that alone.

Besides, we need more excuses to celebrate.

Just remind me not to overdo it.  Ostara is just days away.

Happy Dia De Los Santo de Paddy, everyone!

 

St. Valentine’s Day For Stupids

Hello dear reader(s)!

Happy St. Valentine’s Day!  If you’re stupid, you may not know what St. Valentine’s Day is all about.  You may not know proper behavior or customs for this day.  Never fear, this article is here to help you avoid the common pitfalls of this day, to keep you from making a major faux pas (facsimile paw) and end up sleeping out on the couch while your significant other is getting railed in your bed by someone else.

The history 

“In order to succeed in the present, one must know the past, provided it is an approved Christian-friendly version of the past that celebrates white supremacy and traditional values of boring sex and loveless servitude-based marriage.” – Betsy DeVos

It all starts in a little town somewhere in Italy which doesn’t matter because it is not in America…

Street Valentino was a young man who was seeking a better life for himself.  A hard worker, and nice guy, he just wanted the opportunity to succeed in something other than the fishing and cheese making his little Italian town was known for.  He decided, like many people, to come to America, land of those who believe they are free.  Before setting sail on the commercial airline, he changed his name to Steve Valentine in order to appear less Italian to the racist and xenophobic Trump supporters.

Upon landing at JFK in New York, Valentine was detained by Customs and Border Patrol thugs because he might be too dark.  After 18 hours of extreme vetting, including multiple cavity searches performed by Billy Billy, and checking all of his social media accounts to ensure that Valentine was not talking shit about Führer Putin or his puppet Trump, he was granted entry into the United States.

Valentine drove to Little Italy.  He loved it, but he thought there was too much concrete.  He missed the rolling hills of his beloved little Italian town and decided he needed to move to somewhere with more open space.  Since he loved Bocce Ball so much, and it reminded him of bowling, he decided the best place to go would be Bowling Green, KY.

The people of Bowling Green were hostile to the newcomer.  Valentine was inundated by comments like, “You need to go back to wherever you came from, you dirty Muslim!” whenever he would try to stop a man from raping his sister.  Even the men’s sisters were hostile at first, because they would shout, “Mind your own business, you dirty Muslim!”  Valentine’s defense that he was actually Roman Catholic fell on deaf ears.

The St. Valentine’s Day Bowling Green Massacre

One day, walking down the street to his job as a pinsetter, Valentine heard cries from a woman yelling for help.  He was hesitant, since every other time he had tried to intervene in a rape he had been told off by both the victim, and her brother, but her cries sounded so sincere that he ran to her aid.

She and Valentine successfully fought off her brother.  As he helped the young woman to her feet, she embraced him in a hug of gratitude.  Unfortunately for Valentine, Kellyanne Conway just happened to be walking by at the time, and in a fit of rage over an obvious Muslim hugging a white woman, she reached into her purse and pulled out an AR-15, shooting Valentine, the woman, the rapist brother on the ground, fourteen innocent bystanders, a poodle, and conveniently for her boss, Michael Flynn.

After police searched the pockets of Valentine, they found this letter to a woman in Italy in his pocket.

Dearest Maria,

I am coming home.  America is not what it used to be.  The people here are crazy, uneducated, and revel in their ignorance.  I long to hold you once more in my arms.  I love you so very much, and though I was going to send for you once established here, it is clear to me that we could lead a far better life back home, or anywhere else, really.  

I guess I’ll just have to tell everyone in Italy first that I discovered the cure for every cancer ever.  

Yours always,

Street Valentino

Tips to make this the best St. Valentine’s Day ever

  1. Resist  
  2. Educate yourself
  3. Love
  4. Be kind
  5. Don’t just do it today
  6. Smile
  7. Enjoy life
  8. Tell people how you feel
  9. Turn off the television
  10. Check sources

Well, dear reader(s), I wish all of you a great and happy St. Valentine’s Day.  Remember that anything else you hear about this day is fake news, and my version of this story is to keep the country safe and shall not be questioned.

 

Real Resolutions

Happy New Year, dear reader(s)!

I have mentioned before that I’m not a huge fan of making New Year’s Resolutions.  I don’t have a making New Year’s Resolutions jersey or foam finger.   But what I do have are a particular set of skills.   Oh no, wait.  Wrong line.

But since I’m feeling particularly well and would like to keep feeling this way in particular, I’ve decided to go ahead and make a few, and share them particularly with you, for your education, entertainment, and enlightenment.

So, I present to you, in no particular order except that which I typed out, my real New Years resolutions.  Particularly real in that I may actually accomplish them.

  1. Go to the grocery store at least once this year  Done already.  I feel so accomplished!  Fuck yeah, this year is going to be great!  I am going to rock these!  I can do anything I set my mind to, provided the things I set my mind to are really easy.
  2. Write a blog post this year  Okay, I am part way finished with this!  Awesome!
  3. Sit on the couch  Wow!  I am doing great!!!!!
  4. Masturbate this year  I am not going to tell you if this has been done yet or not, but it is a near certainty this resolution won’t be an issue.
  5. Do my best not to stress about people who don’t see my full awesomeness  Um…well…I did say do my best.  So, I am!  Could my best be better?  That is none of your damn business!
  6. Meet more people  Plans already made.  So what if those people are doctors and their staff?  They are people too.  #DoctorsAndStaffArePeopleToo
  7. Smile  I have done it a few times already!  I’m ahead of my goal!
  8. Pet my cats  I’m unstoppable!
  9. Treat myself  Does a venti white mocha count toward that?  I think it does.  That’s right, I am rocking this New Year.  Dick Clark ain’t got nothing on me!
  10. Become independently wealthy, enter a happy, fulfilling long-term relationship with the woman/women of my dreams, purchase my dream home, write and publish a few bestsellers, grow B cells, improve all functions of my health, travel the world, buy a fleet of new vehicles, a private jet, all the other things I like, lead a successful, peaceful revolt restoring freedom and democracy to all, and make worldwide legalization of cannabis a reality  Fuck.  Well, 9/10 isn’t bad.

Happy New Year, everyone.  I hope it really is so far.  Mine is pretty good, but I am tired from staying up late last night, partying by sitting in front of the TV with my cats, talking to my roommates as we attempted to keep each other from drifting off before midnight.

Did you do anything fun?  Would love to hear about it!

Holiday Offense

Hello dear reader(s)!

Happy whatever holiday you celebrate, provided you celebrate a holiday at this time of year.  If it offends you that I said that, rather than saying Merry Christmas, tough shit.  Your offense offends me.

I am not Christian.  I am Pagan.  Some would call me neopagan, and that’s probably true given that much of my belief systems are modern interpretations of ancient beliefs.  But they were ancient.  They predated Christianity.  And guess what?

Christmas as you know it, is pure Pagan.

I try not to get into the whole ownership of the holiday that much.  I couldn’t care less who celebrates or why.  I want them to be happy and healthy and have a great time.  I am not one of those pagans who tries to rewrite Christian Christmas songs with Pagan themes (that actually annoys me, we can write our own songs), or one who goes around and mentions all of the things that were stolen for this holiday from ancient Pagan people.  It doesn’t matter much to me.

Until…

Some idiot starts whining about a war on Christmas.

Then, it’s on.

Have you been to Nazareth?  Ever seen a fucking reindeer there?  How about pine and fir trees?

When people whine about the removal of “Christmas” trees at pubic places, and removing reindeer and snowflakes from Starbucks cups as some imagined war on Christmas and Christianity, only then do I feel the need to remind them that none of that was present at the birth of Jesus.  These symbols are the symbols from two different Pagan festivals that occurred at this time of year.  They were adopted by Christians in an attempt to placate those who did not want to convert to Christianity by allowing Pagan traditions to remain.

Here is a historical reenactment, with a little bit of artistic license, to illustrate the point:

Constantine:  Sup brah?  I’m gonna be Christian, because Jesus is just alright with me!  Jesus is just alright, oh yeah!  I don’t know what they may say!  I don’t know what they may do!  But Jesus is just alright with me!

Roman subjects:  Oh, that’s nice.

Constantine:  And since I am emperor, and you are all my subjects too, you are all now Christian too.

Roman subjects:  Dude, didn’t we crucify that guy?

Constantine:  No, that was ze Jews!  You are Christian now!

Roman subjects:  Jews in Rome though, right?  Romans.  Like us.

Constantine:  No.  Well, yes…now.  Because anyone in Rome is now Christian.

Roman subjects:  Dude, I don’t know.  We like our ways, and our gods.  Besides, we have parties to plan for them.  It’s gonna be a rager.  You can come, if you don’t harsh the vibe.

Constantine:  No!  No parties for the birth of the sun!  Jesus is king!

Roman subjects:  Aren’t you king?

Constantine:  No, I’m better.  I am emperor.

Roman subjects:  But we put all this work into our party!  We will fight to protect our parties!

Constantine:  Um…let’s just change the name and reasons.  We don’t really need to fight right now.  We are busy conquering.

Some Roman subjects:  Deal!

Other Roman subjects:  Hopeless war!!!!!

Look, I am not here to criticize your beliefs.  If you are Christian, and believe that he was born conveniently near the solstice even though your own religion’s biblical scholars dispute that timeline, so be it.

If you wish me a Merry Christmas, I will wish it back.  To me, Christmas is one great day in the celebration of the festival of Yule.  I celebrate it out of tradition since that was the big holiday I grew up with.

If you wish me a Happy Hanukkah, I will wish the same to you

If you wish me a blessed Yule, well, I just might think you are awesome.

But don’t think for a minute that I will remain silent as you claim that your ultra-dominant holiday is under attack because the symbols your religion stole are occasionally removed from public display so as to make others feel more included.

They aren’t yours to whine over anyway.

Featured Image has been shared by so many different groups on my Facebook, that I can not say who the creator was.  It wasn’t me.