too smart and too horny for her own good
Tomorrow I’m going out of town to my parents’ place for the Easter weekend, which means I probably won’t be able to blog until Sunday night. Which isn’t that long, but it feels like a long time. Three days at home with your family has a way of doing that. I am bringing a stack of big books to hide behind. If that doesn’t work the hissing will commence, which may or may not include spittle.
This is a story I’ve tried to write many times since the start of this blog, but I could never get right because I didn’t know how to end it. Tonight I finally figured out how to tell the story: from beginning to beginning.
I love to tell stories, I always have. When I was a child I loved to watch my father and uncles exchange stories on Grandpa’s patio. I was a lone girl in a company of men. They’d sit out there for hours telling stories of laughter, triumph, and a helluva lot of bullshit.
When it was hot they’d sit in a circle in patio chairs and drink from their bottomless beers. When it was cold they’d stand in a huddle, arms perched over the fence with mugs of whiskey in hand. The stories came easily. They’d been gathering on that patio for so long that they often got caught in their bullshit stories, having told them differently three times before.
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I'm Vix, a 27 year-old Texan. After 18 years of private education and 3 degrees, I'm trying to leave the corporate world behind to become a sex/humor writer and novelist. I'm sexy, funny, ugly, raw, and entirely real-- because there's more to me than being a blowjob queen.
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