If you're bound and you're gagged....

Draped and displayed, would you still love me anyways? 

It's the Misfits mom. 

It's just a song. 

It's called Helena. 

Oh hey, welcome back to 2024.

Of course, we're not going to do a daily post like Seth. But we are, go me, keeping to our intended weekly post. It's already written. This is just the edit and typo patrol. I'll miss some. You know that, don't you? 

Let's keep the game idea though. I love when he says let's play a game. Mine will probably be comparably lame. I have no intention of busting out the rug beater. If you ask nicely, maybe I can be talked into the vampire bat. 

What? The game, right. There was all this blood, sorry I got distracted. 

I mentioned it in the last post, remember?  Dance, orgasm or meditate? Today song is  Helena (youtube.com) 

I'm going with meditate. The Misfits came on during a dance party drift that began with Punk Rock Girl the other day. I did slam hard to it but I'm feeling more chill now. So I'm going to contemplate why Danzig's Helena doesn't love him anyway. First guess, it might be the hair. 

Anyway. 

My top and I were both born during Mercury retrogrades. Have I shared that before? My astrologist said something like, you both talk to people in ways that would seem rude from anyone else, but people really like the way you talk to them. 

They do. Pretty sure the how is unimportant, they like that I talk to them. 

They like when I make them cry too. 

Sometimes though, I feel so misunderstood. I've never quite mastered Vanilla, and to be honest, the older I get the less inclined I feel to try.  

There was a term I fell instantly in love with like a decade or so ago, Mansplaining. How useful, my vernacular desperately needed this word and I began using it with reckless abandon.     

Problem that. I was using it wrong. I'm pretty sure it was Tyler who schooled me. Imagine, having to have mansplain explained to you by a man. How embarrassing. What I thought it meant was so much cooler though. It made sense. I thought mansplaining was when a woman had to dumb down something complicated, like feelings, to explain it to a man. So listen, when you come in here and track mud all over our living room it makes me feel unappreciated. Or, Hey, I appreciate that you think I'm pretty, but this is a funeral and I'm pretty sad right now. I have kindly, successfully, explained something tricky to a man, ergo I have mansplained it. 

Mansplaining, as I am sure you know, is when a man explains to a woman an experience she has had or a concept that she is an expert in. 

I remember for a few months I paid attention to the exchanges I had with men. Because at first I dismissed the concept out of hand. This can't possibly be right. Men talk to you like that, are you sure?  Turns out sometimes they do. I noticed chicks do it to sometimes too. I also noticed that if not for the fact that I was intentionally watching for it, looking to see if this really happens, these are the times I normally cut a dude off and say no, you're not listening. Should the man in question continue to attempt to tell me about myself, the man (or woman) in question is going to find themselves talking to themself. 

Thank you for this invitation to debate, but I must politely decline. 

It saddened me to have to remove mansplaining from my vernacular, but the probability of convincing the masses to use it my way seemed slim at best. And I, thankfully, have no use for it as it is intended. 

So, Helena, are you going to dance, cum or meditate with me?