Listen to the Silence

Recordin'ses - Questions about Torquemada Paddles for CreativeKink Because you people have asked before what I sound like - and you deserve to suffer to find out.

I was married from 2002 to 2009 to a woman who had me convinced that I was abusive, for all seven years.   Even with a thick file of hospital visits and scars from cuts, I "should have known better".  She was just a "passionate woman" and I should man up.  With a lump of scar tissue on the back of my skull from a cast iron skillet....still the hospital social worker pulled her aside to ask if she was "okay".   Blood and stitches to the contrary, I was 6'4" and 250lbs, she was 5'4" and a hundred pounds lighter.  I was the bigger one, I was the man, so I was the abuser.  End of story. The police only ever spoke to tell me to spend the night elsewhere because she asked them to.  I was having my scalp stitched the first time that happened.  I learned to just keep quiet and go along with it after the second time.  My one and only call to them for help (after I left the ER with broken fingers) never received an officer response. I slept at

Whatever happened to Innocent until Proven Guilty? (Some of my rants are a bit like going to war – you won’t all be here at the end.  This is one of those.) In our lifestyle, I see a frightening trend.   I see it coming out of a good place, and (mostly) good hearts – but all I can think of is the adage about the road paved with good intentions. I’m sure Joe McCarthy had good intentions too. We live in a society (in the US) where we’re presumed innocent, until proven guilty. Yes, that does mean that sometimes the guilty go free, or unpunished.   The system isn’t perfect.  And what of the victims?   And future victims?  Why do we let these criminals go free when we could keep them all locked up?   Because it’s better a dozen bad men go free than one innocent man languishing in prison.   That’s the whole point of the Innocence Project and Amnesty International.   Aren’t those wrongly accused also victims?   If you’ve ever been in a prison, or seen the damage from

Please. FUCKING PLEASE. If you need to find a sliding scale therapist or psychiatrist, or an open clinic, or a county health office, or a welfare diagnostician - I'll help you.   I will PERSONALLY help you - it's something I do every single weekend as part of my volunteer work. (That's on top of being a cop, on top of building toys for Creative Kink, and on top of being a full time Dad, btw.  So yes, I really commit to the work, and yes, I really will help you.) But this self diagnosis shit?  This shit has got to go.   There's a reason why so many people go through years and years and YEARS of graduate education to be able to make a diagnosis of psychological or psychiatric treatment needs.  I realize self diagnosis is the latest fad.  I realize having some 'mental illness' makes you seem trendy, and I realize all your celebrity favorites are "coming out as having...".  I get that it makes you feel better to have a label to hang on yourself

So, things to consider.   All wise-ass-ery aside.  (except for some.   Because I'm, you know, Kenova.  The asshole - but having a beard makes up for it.  Ask half the girls I've spanked.) Rule 1.   If you post it - they will come.  They being web crawlers, and post it meaning put it out there, anywhere.   On your phone.  On a private server.  In an IM to friends one on one.  On a memorial site, ten years ago.  In an article that some grandmother eventually scanned as part of scanning a newspaper into archives.  As a joke tweeted then deleted.  On a .Gov email that you both "got rid of".  On a private selfie that you keep in that hidden folder on your phone, where you hide all your gay (and selfie) porn.  On a friend's phone.  On a screen cap.  Walking past someone with a digital camera or a phone held up in the "selfie" or "I'm-a-tourist" pose. If it was taken - web crawlers will eventually find it.  A class I've been to numerous

If you don't have a green or red butt plug in your bottom by the 24th, I'm ashamed of you. I'll settle for red bruises, and a green thong, though. Still - for shame.

Don’t ever try to judge me, dude, You don’t know what the fuck I’ve been through. Don’t like it?   Don’t listen.  Same as all my writings.   I get plenty of hate mail.  I’ve long ago stopped holding my tongue at left leaning events (which most are in the lifestyle, these days.  *dramatic sigh*) So. “If you really wanted to be an ally to POC, you’d give…” “If men were actually allies for women, they would…” “If you ever want to be an ally to <insert group>, you have to…” Okay.  Here we go. You ain’t gonna like this.  I’d say trigger warning – but I only give those when I’m already halfway through the trigger squeeze.  (And it sounds like “drop the weapon!”, not “be careful of your feelings!”) Preamble.   I’m Native.   My people were here before yours.   ANY of yours.  Yet we still have the highest poverty per capita (by person, AND household) in the US.  We receive the lowest (just about none) help from any government or private group.  The weakest c