So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel...

I got this question posed to my by the lovely A.J. Bass (@AnjikoZ) on Twitter the other day and, well, by golly, let's give it the proper love and respect this subject matter deserves, shall we?

The original Tweet reads:

• My so called best friend decided to be a judgmental bitch today. She actually told me that daddy and I should not be having sex in our home (even though kids are fast asleep when we do). All because the way we have sex is like a porn. Now that I'm writing this it's kinda funny.

Leaving aside my issues with calling your sex partner "Daddy" - let's take a look at this.

In our house sex is sometimes soft and gentle, sometimes loud and adventurous, and sometimes quick and dirty. We use sex toys, we occasionally watch porn, we come up with some strange positions so we can both see the tv and get off at the same time.

Shit - last night we did all of the above. 

Let me rewind a bit... I got a text from Lady Bourbon asking "Wanna get naked and watch hentai tonight?" - to which my response was, "like you have to ask!" 

So - once the kids were tucked in and asleep, we got our fuck on.

The television was set to a rather scandalous hentai in which a demon lady feeds on the virginal energy of people in hopes of... something something I don't watch it for the plot. All I know is that this demon lady forces some dude to fuck his friends while other robed figures watch and occasionally participate. 

But I digress... The point is - the kids were asleep and we got busy. At one point, Lady B's legs were up on the coffee table while she masturbated and I stood over her and would put my junk in her mouth repeatedly. Then she reverse-cowgirled me to climax while we both watched the big scene on this show. 

She was spent, I was spent, we were both in need of hydration, and the couch cover needed to be removed and washed... It was awesome.

But some people seem to think this approach to sex is "icky" or "too much" and you should just stick to the missionary position, lights off, and pray to Jesus when you're done. 

FUCK THAT NOISE.

Sex can and SHOULD be a contact sport. And, if you and your partner so choose, it should be adventurous... and in every room of the house. Why limit yourself to the same location, same position, same EVERYTHING every time?!? If you're married, chances are good you're going to be having a lot of sex with the same person for a very long time... it can probably get boring if you do the same thing day in and day out... 

When we first got married and moved in together - we had sex in every room of our townhouse. In our second house, we again did it in every room of the house.... shit, we've done it on a boat, under a boat in the water, on the back patio, on Lady B's sister's patio furniture... We've had gentle, "hold me" sex, we've had "wow, that was different" sex, and we've had "hurry the fuck up and end this" sex... And it's always good. 

If your kids see you having sex, in any position, why does it fucking matter? Humans have sex. It's what we do to procreate. It's what we do to release stress. It's fucking NORMAL AND HEALTHY and people need to understand this. I walked in on my parents a few times as a kid. I turned out normal. My parents had/have sex toys. I think knowing this is what has given me a great respect and healthy understanding of sex. As we all should try to have. 

So have sex. Have fun sex, dirty sex, porn-star sex... and don't be ashamed about it. We have a serious LACK of sexual education in this country and that leads to problems. Raise your kids to be good, decent people with a healthy respect for sex and their sexual partners and everything will be golden. 

So - there you go, AJ. I hope I've answered your question in a round-about way. Make your house look like a Jackson Pollack painting under blacklight and explain to the kids that "well, sometimes mommy and daddy like to get their freak-on."

The duality of being me...

It's been a while since I've written anything longer than a Tweet. It's been a while since I've opened up my brain and let the words pour out...

I feel like doing it today.

Something about this time of year, almost every year, really fucks with my brain. Like, in a big way. I will bounce wildly from perfectly happy to uncontrollably fucked up. And it sucks. It's also when I'm at my... uh... most Bourbonness? I should explain that.

I am very much two distinct people residing within the same body.

I am me... and I am Bourbon.

The normal, everyday me is reserved, cautious, anxiety-filled, and seemingly normal person. I try to watch what I say around others, I keep my thoughts to myself, I interact with people at work whom I despise because it's easier than finding a new job... shit like that. I am guarded on what I say... I try to calculate the best thing to say on tweets, facebook posts, etc... I'm very unassuming.

This is the face I wear in public...

But I am also Bourbon.

This may seem silly to you all, but hang on and I'll try to explain...

One night I was talking to Lady Bourbon and I mentioned a post on Twitter and she replied with, "You or Bourbon?" - and that hit me. Because Bourbon IS me. I am Bourbon. But I tend to only let Bourbon out of the bottle here on my blog or Twitter where I am unknown. So I can see why she said this thing.

The Bourbon-Me generally doesn't give a fuck. I'll say what I want. I'll write smut. I'll talk about all the things I'm not "allowed" to talk about in polite society. I take sexy photos of Lady Bourbon and we have kinky good times in the bedroom... and the living room... occasionally the kitchen... maybe a bathroom at some point... most assuredly the playroom. But I digress... The point is - I wish I could be Bourbon full time. I wish I could not give a fuck. I wish I had the confidence and "no fucks given" attitude that I have here, in the safety of internet anonymity.


But life doesn't work that way.


I have a job. I have a family. I have an obnoxious mother-in-law. I have PTA bullshit... or will have I guess when the kids are a little older. And I can't relearn 40+ years of learned behavior. I mean, I guess I COULD, but am terrified of doing it. I'm terrified of just "letting go" and "being me" out of fear of losing my job or my kids (all worst-case scenario shit - which is my anxiety dual-wield specialty).

I'm so trained in this way that I don't really talk about my anxiety, PTSD, etc on my "normal" accounts all that much. I have no problem sharing on Bourbon because, well, nobody's going to call me out at work for it or other strange shit.

Lady Bourbon and hentai.

I try to talk about Lady Bourbon about this - but she's a fucking rockstar and I don't think she can comprehend this at some levels. She is who she is and that's fucking it. I, on the other hand, was the youngest of 14 in my family (including cousins) and I was always present for the jackassery, but not allowed to participate in it... stuff like swearing, sex-jokes, etc. So I internalized it all. I still do at times. Not her, though, she blazed her own trail and still does. She says what she wants to say and does what she wants to do. I envy her for that. I tend to be overly cautious and second-guess myself all the time. Bourbon does not. Bourbon says "Hey, fuckers, this is me!" - but only because none of you know who I am.

There are two very real, very distinct personalities in me and I want to somehow merge the best of both... but I don't think that's possible. But around this time of year... the Bourbon side seems to come out a little more. I get more sexually aware. I start craving things that aren't the norm. I start having vivid sex dreams and I want Lady Bourbon to do some really sexy things to me/for me... It'll last for a month or two, then slack off... then build back up... then slack off and then it goes away for a while - You'll note that I've not written smut since fucking MARCH... Maybe it's the Winter me? Who the fuck knows. Sometimes it makes me feel like Elsa from Frozen... Trying to wear gloves and conceal that shit, yo...

The point is - I am me... but sometimes I feel MORE like me. And I wish I knew of a good way to mesh the two and become someone else...

So this has been my rambling, what-the-fuck moment for today.





Happy Thursday, fuckers!

Smile for anime butt!

Change in the House of Bourbon

It's been a minute since I last posted on the ole blog... so let's fucking do this thing.

Things have been a little different in the Bourbon household as of late. Lady Bourbon has taken on new work responsibilities that have drastically changed her schedule and the everyday flow in the house.

Which is fine. We still manage and everything flows...

But my day job revolves around scheduling and planning and while I can roll with things like the best of them - I am not taking to this as well as I'd hoped.

Ever seen the Bob's Burgers episode where his landlord, Mr. Fischoeder, wants to pretend Linda and the kids are HIS wife and kids on Thanksgiving? And it should go well, but Bob is the one stuck in the kitchen still working, getting drunk on Absinthe, and wanting things to be normal... but they just aren't?

Yeah... I'm Bob right now. Only without the Absinthe. And without alcohol... and without carbs... It's a lot of things changing all at the same time. And it's rough, man. Really rough.

While Lady Bourbon now gets to spend her afternoon with the kids, she is gone in the mornings. It's just me and the kids prior to school... and it's not a problem. I love the kids. But I miss the adult interaction before I have to go to work and deal with the morons there. So once I've dropped the kids off, I have nothing to do at home, so I've been coming into work early. 9-hour days with another 90 minutes in the car... then I come home to a late dinner at 7:00 in time to TRY to play with the kids when I'm in a decent enough mood to do so before they go to bed at 8 or 8:30.

She's also working at least one day every weekend now... which means it's just me and the kids again for most of the day...

I love my kids - please don't misunderstand - it's just that out of my entire week, I really only see or interact with my kids and people at work. I hate the people at work and love my kids. But I actually spend WAY more time with the people I hate and not the people I love. And the people I hate are so invasive to my life and mental well-being, they imprint so much anger on me and I am often unhappy when I get home. Debbie is really the least of my problems at work. She's an awful human being, but she's nothing compared to my super racist, homophobic GM, the owner who wants to micromanage everyone, and everyone else there with the mentality of a 12 year old... It's infuriating.

I am left with little or no time to decompress outside of my drive home... I have no alone time that isn't in the car to and from work. And my non-work adult interaction time is limited to a few meager hours at night before Lady Bourbon goes to bed before waking up at 5:30 the next morning for her new shift.

I guess I'm just really bitching and whining more than anything. Remember that post I made about wanting to just spend every day stuck in a loop? Well, I feel like I'm still stuck in that loop... but with less Lady Bourbon in it now and less opportunity for my own free time. And I sometimes feel like I am forgetting how to interact with adults.

So, instead of not having the time to have a social life... I now have less of one because Lady Bourbon is slightly less present in my day to day routine.

And it just sucks. Right now - it sucks to be me. And not in some emo bullshit way... I'm just so goddamn lonely. In a world full of people - I just feel fucking alone.

Dr. Bourbon and The Antivaxx Trail...

Today in Bad Advice with Dr. Bourbon our question comes from B.J. Black

B.J. asks:

Dr. Bourbon Sex... and Coffee:

How should I react when anti-vaxxers ask for advice to keep their kids safe when there is a measles (or other illness that vaccines can prevent) outbreak?

Dear B.J.,

What a good question. Let me tell you - I have no shortage of Anti-Vax people on my Facebook feed, so I've actually had this argument before. And every time it ends with the same thing - me, slamming my head against my desk at the outright stupidity of people who, up until 5 minutes ago, I thought were sane, mildly intelligent people. Okay no... that's not true.

Discovering Porn...

Fun story - I know a "coed" in THIS one
We went skinny-dipping in Switzerland in 1996

While growing up, my dad had a serious collection of Playboy magazines in the house. I have no doubt that my dad did not, in fact, read it for the articles.

He had a pretty nice collection of nude women stretching from the mid-80s through the mid to late 90s. And through my adolescence I ruined at least one or two of those magazines with my... uh... attention. We'll go with that. Yep. Attention.

Younger than that, however, I remember being at my friend's house and sneaking in and taking his dad's hidden copy or two of Hustler and reading the letters in it. Then running off to the bathroom to measure who had the biggest erection. Not together... one at a time with a ruler. Like civilized kids in rural America. These are my first memories of sex and nudity.

Then came the internet.

Jesus Christ...

'Twas The Night Before XXXmas - A Poem

'Twas The Night Before XXXmas

A @BourbonSex Original Poem

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through our house,

I was horny as fuck and she wasn't wearing her blouse;

The stocking were hiked up her thighs with care,

I wanted to grab them and bury my face there;

Our children were nestled all snug in their bed;

While I sweet talked mommy into giving me head;

So she's in her panties, and I in my shirt,

And she started to lick, she started to flirt;

When out in the hall our son made a thundering boom,

I need to deal with the kid before we can resume;

Away to the kitchen I ran pretty quick,

Using a towel to hide my blood-engorged dick;

The polish on the grain of the newly-mopped floor,

Gave little traction as I passed through the door;

When what did I find as I slid through the dark,

But the goddamn table and I let scream with a bark!

With a pained little grimace to prevent all my raving,

I knew I had to hurry to get the tail I was craving;

Faster than The Flash - I went to my task,

Getting more than just the juice for which he had asked;

Now, cookies! Now chips! Now water and juice!

On snack time! On bed time! My towel's coming loose!

To the top of the stairs! To the foot of his bed!

Now go to sleep! Go to sleep! So I can get head!

As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

I read him a book, until he closed his big eyes;

So back to the bedroom, for it's time to screw!

With a throbbing erection, and a vibrator too!

And then, in terror, I heard at the door

The yawning and whining of the other one... she's four;

As I drew up my towel and was turning around,

Through the now open door she came with a bound;

She was dressed in pink from her head to her toes,

This shit is killing me. You tiny, cute little foes!

A blanket and toys she'd flung on her back,

I flashed a scared look at momma who was covering her rack;

Her eyelids were heavy - this child of mine,

I escorted her to her room, hopefully she'll sleep this time;

Her hair was a mess, going this way and that,

And after a short story, she was asleep just like that;

The blood in my body had eased up its flow,

But when I came back to momma, she was ready to go;

Her legs were spread eagle, her toy buzzed on her clit,

She stared at me intensely and beckoned me to it;

She was giddy and horny, a right jolly old beauty,

I dropped my towel to the floor and prepared to do my duty;

A wink of my eye and a drop of my head,

I licked and tickled her from the side of the bed;

I spoke not a word, but went straight for her thighs,

And filled all her holes with my tongue and heard sighs;

And running my finger around her pink clit,

I worked and and wiggled and made a jolly mess of it;

She sprang to her knees, and me gave a grunt,

She threw me on the bed and stuck my cock in her cunt;

But I heard her exclaim as she climaxed with me

"Happy Christmas to all, and oh fuck, yes, right there...RIGHT THERE!!!! YES!!!!"

Merry XXXmas.

The blog post about blogging on my blog that nobody blogs

WTF is blogging?  I mean - what is it REALLY?

For some, it's basically their own personal forum for discussing ideas, products, services, bad ideas, and politics - while getting paid for it.

For the rest of us, it's basically an online diary for late-night missives about how we're lonely, depressed, horny, hungry, angry, or some other inane thing. And that's pretty okay.

We can't all be paid to whine online. JESUS I wish I was. I could just sit back, spout off about whatever the fuck I wanted and then just get paid for it! It would be GLORIOUS.  But... nobody reads this blog. I mean, at the height of its existence, I got 22 page views one day.

I'm not going to retire on 22 page views. Fuck, I can't even get a piece of gum for that.

What Dreams May Never Come...

Earlier today I posted a list to my Twitter Feed about the things I've wanted to do but fell short of...

These have been my half-assed dreams as an adult. Things I was 100% passionate about for a week or so until I realized I didn't have the time or money to commit to any of them. They are my dead dreams... for now. I will now go into detail on these dreams and why they've all died....

The bliss that is being alone...

I love my wife and kids very much.

But there are times that, as a human being, I just need some time alone. And I don't mean I need to get in the car and go to the store - I mean home, in your house, with no other person.

Maybe it's just me, I don't know. But there is something internally balancing about being able to just spend some time each day at home, alone, not dealing with anyone else's shit. Before we moved, I had an hour every morning to myself when my wife went to work and the kids went to daycare. It was glorious. Some days I'd do laundry, somedays I'd do the dishes... it doesn't matter what I do during the time alone - the point was just to be able to do it without worrying about anyone else for like 60 minutes.

It was fucking glorious.

But... now I commute for two fucking hours every day and that's about the closest I get to alone time.