October 18, 2010

A Boy Named Sue

Well, my daddy left home when I was three, and he didn’t leave much to Ma and me, just this old guitar and a bottle of booze. Now I don’t blame him because he run and hid, but the meanest thing that he ever did was before he left he went and named me Sue. Well, he must have thought it was quite a joke, and it got lots of laughs from a lot of folks, it seems I had to fight my whole life through. Some gal would giggle and I’d get red and some guy would laugh and I’d bust his head, I tell you, life ain’t easy for a boy named Sue. Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean. My fist got hard and my wits got keen. Roamed from town to town to hide my shame, but I made me a vow to the moon and the stars, I’d search the honky tonks and bars and kill that man that gave me that awful name. But it was Gatlinburg in mid July and I had just hit town and my throat was dry. I’d thought i’d stop and have myself a brew. At an old saloon in a street of mud and at a table dealing stud sat the dirty, mangy dog that named me Sue. Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad from a worn-out picture that my mother had and I knew the scar on his cheek and his evil eye. He was big and bent and gray and old and I looked at him and my blood ran cold, and I said, “My name is Sue. How do you do? Now you’re gonna die.” Yeah, that’s what I told him. Well, I hit him right between the eyes and he went down but to my surprise he came up with a knife and cut off a piece of my ear. But I busted a chair right across his teeth. And we crashed through the wall and into the street kicking and a-gouging in the mud and the blood and the beer. I tell you I’ve fought tougher men but I really can’t remember when. He kicked like a mule and bit like a crocodile. I heard him laughin’ and then I heard him cussin’, he went for his gun and I pulled mine first. He stood there looking at me and I saw him smile. And he said, “Son, this world is rough and if a man’s gonna make it, he’s gotta be tough and I knew I wouldn’t be there to help you along. So I gave you that name and I said ‘Goodbye’. I knew you’d have to get tough or die. And it’s that name that helped to make you strong.” Yeah, he said, “Now you have just fought one helluva fight, and I know you hate me and you’ve got the right to kill me now and I wouldn’t blame you if you do. But you ought to thank me before I die for the gravel in your guts and the spit in your eye because I’m the nut that named you Sue.” Yeah, what could I do? What could I do? I got all choked up and I threw down my gun, called him pa and he called me a son, and I came away with a different point of view and I think about him now and then. Every time I tried, every time I win and if I ever have a son I think I am gonna name him Bill […]
October 15, 2010

Pumpkin Carving

I love carving pumpkins, love to bake the seeds, turn on the haunting music, make pumpkin pies and of course eating pumpkin pie LOL. I havent bought my pumpkin yet, but when I do I will post a pic of it here for you all to see. I sure hope you ABDL’s love this holiday as much as I do. Cant wait to here about your plans, come visit us in chat so you can tell us all about your holiday plans and your Halloween activities! Mommy Sara 1 888 430 2010
October 2, 2010

Bare or Hair?

There has been some discussion if ABies should shave from the neck down or not as of late.  I believe that this is a perfect example as to why all you little ones should indeed go bare. The only question now is should one use a blade, clippers, or wax.  Perhaps something a little more permanent – maybe electrolysis or laser treatments?  Me?  I think that I would like to use wax for my babies (and I’m talking about waxing them personally, or at least escorting them to the salon to instruct the technician and to oversee the entire procedure, hehe).  But I think we can all agree, at least in this case, bare is DEFINITELY better then hair! Mommy Gina 1*888*430*2010
September 21, 2010

One Inch Tall

If you were only one inch tall, you’d ride a worm to school. The teardrop of a crying ant would be your swimming pool. A crumb of cake would be a feast And last you seven days at least, A flea would be a frightening beast If you were one inch tall. If you were only one inch tall, you’d walk beneath the door, And it would take about a month to get down to the store. A bit of fluff would be your bed, You’d swing upon a spider’s thread, And wear a thimble on your head If you were one inch tall. You’d surf across the kitchen sink upon a stick of gum. You couldn’t hug your mama, you’d just have to hug her thumb. You’d run from people’s feet in fright, To move a pen would take all night, (This poem took fourteen years to write– ‘Cause I’m just one inch tall). by Shel Silverstein Lily
September 18, 2010

Time-Out Chair

Look what I got for all my naughty, naughty little ones! A special chair just for you. And I have a special place for it - right in the corner. Won’t eat your veggies? Talking back to Mommy Gina? Were you being mean to the other little ones on the playground? Then in the chair you will go! But before you end up in the chair, Mommy Gina will have to paddle that little hinnie of yours. So next time you think about being bad, just remember that you will end up in this chair – with a very red hinnie! Mommy Gina 1*888*430*2010
September 5, 2010

Mommy Dearest

Ok, so I know that I can usually be seen as a sweet, loving mommy who likes to have lots of fun – and that’s true (mostly). But there is a strict, dommy side that I like to indulge in as well. With that in mind, let me share with you what I have been pondering. Seems that some little ones like to be mommy’s little helper, or be trained as sissy maids. This is all fine and dandy, but rarely are the chores set before them done to my satisfaction. Now the question is what is the appropriate punishment that will instill a proper work ethic and make them strive to perform to my standards? The first punishment for failure might seem a bit harsh – an enema administered with an inflatable nozzle to ensure non-leakage. Then the task would have to be performed again while they hold their water, nozzle still in place. I would be standing over them watching every movement, with a stop watch in hand, but not giving any signs of approval or disapproval. This would add to the anxiety that they would already be feeling. I would not even tell them the time frame in which the task would have to be performed and, trust me, there would indeed be a time requirement. If, after the second go at the task they have failed once again, then they would go over my knee, bare-assed, water still inside them, and be given a long and harsh paddling. The nozzle would be removed, but instead of letting them got to the potty to empty their bowels, the diaper would go back on, with a very snug pair of rubber pants over top of them. This would force them to fill their diaper to the brim while they try and complete the task yet again. Now, if for some reason the chore was not done properly yet again, well, lets just say that I have a very long list of punishments at my disposal – from guzzling castor oil, being forced to hold a bar of soap in their mouth with their teeth, various forms of spankings with various implements, the tightly tying of genitalia, and the standing in a metal wash tub in the front yard until there is crap streaming out the edges of the diaper and down their legs. And I haven’t even touched on the subject of what I would do with a candy thermometer. Needless to say, the list goes on and on. So, have I burst your bubble on what a sweet, gentle mommy I am? And more interestingly, as these visuals settle in the recesses of your mind, do they fuel your worst nightmare, or your wettest fantasy? Mommy Gina 1*888*430*2010
August 31, 2010

My Dream (A Vision Of Peace)

Where the mountains touch the sky Where poets DREAM, where eagles fly A secret place above the crowd Just beneath a silver-lined cloud. Lift your eyes to a snowy peak And see the soon-to-be we seek Whisper DREAMS and let them rise To the mountains old and wise. Climbers climb, it’s time to try Where the mountains touch the sky Take me there. Oh take me now… Someway, Someday, Somewhere, Somehow! Where the ocean meets the sky Where dolphin dance and seagulls fly A place in DREAMS, I know so well The sea inside a single shell. Far across the living sea A pale blue possibility Beyond the castles made of sand Tomorrow in a small child’s hand. Only DREAMERS need apply Where the ocean meets the sky Take me there. Oh take me now… Someway, Someday, Somewhere, Somehow. A common ground for one and all Behind the crystal waterfall Where Peace flows like a mighty stream Like Dr. King I have a DREAM. Imagine such a goal in sight For red and yellow, black and white New Delhi, Peking, Kenya, Rome Earth is the place that we call home. Baghdad, Bangkok, Tel Aviv One race HUMAN, we still believe It matters what we say and do This DREAM is ME, this DREAM is YOU! When walls of hate have fallen fast When prejudice has long since passed When last is first and first is last Come DREAM with me Where the forest reach the sky Wake up and DREAM and don’t be shy. No thorns of war, a perfect rose This is where Gandhi’s DREAM grows Whisper now; let the DREAM begin It’s time to trust the truth within. This is where we seek and find A gift in being colorblind DREAM on DREAMERS, hopes are high Where the forest reach the sky. Take me there. Oh take me now Someway, Someday, Somewhere, Somehow. Now, listen close, the future calls… Build your bridges and tear down walls! For time has taught and so it seems Realities are born of DREAMS! Blessed are the peacemakers… Silvie
August 23, 2010

Qui Jun and the Arrogant Monk

There once lived a monk called Shan, in a village in China. He had earned a great name for himself. But he was very arrogant. Qui Jun heard of his arrogance and wanted to teach the monk a lesson. He went to meet Shan who neither greeted him nor acknowledged his presence. Just then a servant of the monk came with a message: “The son of an army officer is here to see you.” The monk said, “I will go and greet him.” Shan welcomed the son of the army officer with respect. After the army officer’s son had departed Qui Jun asked Shan the reason for his double-faced behaviour. “Why is it that you greeted the army officer’s son so respectfully, yet behaved so arrogantly towards me?” Shan the Monk had a quick reply: “Please don’t get me wrong. For me greeting meansnot greeting and not greeting means greeting.” Qui Jun understood the monk’s mischief and hit him hard on his head with his stick. “According to your logic, beating you means not beating and not beating you means beating. Therefore, I have to give you a beating,” said Qui Jun. Shan immediately realised the folly of his actions and started showing respect to everyone he met, irrespective of their status. lily
August 21, 2010

Demon or Angel?

As with many people, I seem to have an angel on one shoulder and a demon sitting on the other, with both whispering in my ear what to do. My angel says that I should forgive my little one and let his little indiscretions slide. That I should hold him tight and shower him with kisses and love. My demon on the other hand, is telling me that he needs to be punished – severely. A paddling that leaves his hinny red, raw and welted, then forcing him to stay in a dirty, soiled diaper ‘til an extreme rash has formed, and perhaps a strong enema so speed up the soiled diaper process (and this is just for starters – my demons can be quite imaginative). The question is, which one will win out? Which one will hold sway – my demons or my angels? Mommy Gina 1-888-430-2010
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