Tantrika Samois' Blog

Drawing the line between role play and creep rehearsals.

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Drawing the line between role play and creep rehearsals.


Role play is alot like Pandora's box. You have no idea what you are going to find until you open it, and once opened, it is impossible to pretend that it doesn't exist. In practice, this is what pornography is, especially on the internet; just one, cinematic role play of whatever your mind can conceive of that involves sex and ___insert anything here___. (Pun intended).


And as you all know, there are some seriously broken, damaged individuals out there who really need intense counseling, heavy medication or more Jesus in their life. I can never tell which.

In person, however, roleplay takes on a whole other level of uncomfortable when you don't understand where someone is coming from, or where they are going with something. Then, you immediately start asking yourself questions about whether this is harmless role play or creep rehearsal for future acting out in real time with a not-so-voluntary participant. As women, this question strikes closer to our hearts than it does yours since we have been dealing with the creepy, the predatory and the sexually abusive from childhood and it isn't limited to strangers or know sex offender registrants. This is a sad statement to make about the affairs of the world but it is true and pretending otherwise or arguing it doesn't make it any less true or real for females everywhere.

The value of a decent human being who is also a male is priceless in ways that we can't begin to explain adequately and no, this does not mean that we feel compelled to drop to our knees and give you a blow job in admiration and thanks. Nice fantasy, though, right? :-)

As a mature female (read: definitely NOT to be confused with…

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Sometimes, history is worth repeating.

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Especially when it comes to gems like this. Oh man, they really don't write country music like they used to! So don't ask me how I ended up here, just appreciate that I did and I probably laughed harder than you will.

"You're the reason our kids are ugly"

sung by Loretta Lyn and Conway Twitty

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iFq6eZBS1iM

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I just want to hang my head and cry in frustration.

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Did you know boredom can kill you? Apparently it can. According to a study (a real one not an internet poll), people who have intolerably boring jobs also seem to die premature deaths.

Link here: https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/curious/201003/science-shows-you-can-die-boredom-literally

Thank god I have you to look forward to when I am not working or I really would lose my mind. I have been saying good-bye unexpectedly to a few folks these past months. I don't take insults, even veiled ones, or game playing lightly. I don't have time for that kind of teenage hostility from grown men and I will never need anyone's support that badly. It is sad though, that I even had to be in this position in the first place. I don't insult you or treat you like a game to be played, why would you ever think it would be fair or reasonable to do that to me? You know what I mean?

So bored. So tired. So aggravated and worse, in a position where I have to take politely bracketed condescension and underestimation of who I am or am capable of and swallow it with a smile and in silence because... they are the boss and that's how it works in the real world. Note to self: The real world sucks as badly as you remember it. Maybe worse. God, people and their stupid ego games are exhausting.

So I am sorry I haven't been around writing my chirpy, chipper little posts of glorious self confession. I will be back in a few days.

And for you lovely Baltimore boys who have so graciously and enthusiastically shown up in my mailbox, voicemail and text to let me know that you not only remember me but only think the nicest things about me - THANK YOU. Your warm words have…

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Hellcats and sex sirens.

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Today's new discovery.

I am grossly overqualified in every conceivable way for the normal world gig I am currently slogging through. The work is simple and easy enough but if it were any more mind-numbingly boring, I might be inspired to find some way to commit a dramatic, Rube Goldberg inspired, epic form of hara kiri while the screaming in my head from the agonizing boredom that begins 5 minutes into my arrival now extends outside my body and fills every available bit of air space within 50 miles, shattering windows and driving animals to run for high ground in a stampede. 

In direct correlation with this, it would appear that my frustration and stress manifests as a nearly ruthless sexual appetite that will not be sated with any other activity that normal, sane, healthy people would consider. If my vagina were an octopus, it would be the mythical one in the medieval maps of the sea; that reached up and pulled entire ships into the ocean for leisurely devouring. Clearly Medusa didn't have a head of snakes that turned men into stone but a head made of octopus with eight limbs that turned men into rock hard sex slaves and her ire was really just stress and frustration that had built up.

Well, that's my version of the story and I am sticking to it. ;-)

Supernatural sex drive and a fierce need to go hot, heavy and nasty like a Hellcat that can't be tamed by anything in the mortal realm. Jesus, its going to be a long month and we aren't even through it.

And you thought all tantrikas were gossamer veils and dancing fairies.... LOL

I still won't deal with crass or vulgar. I can't take any more reminders of classically low IQ, flat headed cretan…

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