Yahoo! My blog is fixed. The fabulous Samantha had something come up and couldn’t finish the drama, so the ever-awesome Ang stepped back in and made my blog her bitch as she forced the evil internetz to yield to her mighty power.
In short: We’re back in biz at smutandsteff.com! Yay!
This weekend I promise to sort out the RSS feed, which I’m not sure is working or not for those subscribed at Feedburner, so bear with me a smidge longer.
Also, monster shout out… (get it? Halloween? yeah, pun cops come busting down my door and throwing my sorry ass against the wall… actually, that sounds like fun, but I digree) …to that hot thang Babecakes, who saved my ass when WordPress did something really weird after I tried to reset my password (it kept saying it had sent me a new password, but the email was empty… I was locked out!). The magic link? My buddy Ang took care of the dirty work for me since the universe had recently obviously been conspiring against me.
But… baby, I’m home!
Category Archives: General
Good Times Ahead? Let's Hope.
I normally write mornings, but I feel really good right now. In every sense. I want to remember it now, rather than chance it ebbs away during the night.
It’s times like these I remember why I never wanted to go to bed as a child: I was very, very scared life would go on without me. Sadly, growing up I only learned that’s exactly what it does. But I’ve learned to like that. It’s something to wake up to, isn’t it? The constant movement and shift of our little microcosms.
All is not sunshine and roses just yet, boys and girls. I still need to get a loan this week in order to make important changes in my life, but if I don’t, then at least a fairy godmother — or at least my aunt and uncle — did save me heroically with a much-needed immediate infusion. They’re awesome to the nth. They sent me a surprisingly large cheque today (four times what I asked for, double what they said they’d send), so I can pay the rent-eating monsters from the east (“landlord” type things) and maybe even get important cycling and scootering gear. I need that stuff now. Our good weather died today and fall’s forecasted to arrive with a vengeful fury sometime afore noon tomorrow.
Summer, how sweet you were. You shall be missed. But thanks for overstaying your welcome. Make a note: Come back any time.
And, my back! It’s loosening up! With the damp weather coming in, I’m coughing but it doesn’t hurt. (Astounding. You have no idea. I nearly jumped with glee when putting my jeans on didn’t make me cry out this morning. ) I’m even becoming, dare I say it? Flexible? I’m not normally the ankles-behind-the-ears type but, you know, I do yoga. I even sprang up some steps today before I stopped myself with a “Whoa, slow down, skippy!” admonishing. Walk before you run, Grasshopper.
Now, I do have this little kink in my right hip. But, hey, it’s only fitting; we already knew I had a little kink in me. It’ll settle down.
I can work again. This is good. I can produce. I like producing. Hell, I can even get crazy and live a little. Maybe even date some boys.
But most of all, I have that “I came, I saw, I kicked its ass” feeling about everything. I feel really, really good for the first time in a while. Life has tried to beat me down, and while I had some bad moments, I kept the faith over all. And look how it’s turning out.
Did I mention I’ve lost weight during all this? Shit, man. I’m wearing the Joe Boxer pajamas I bought a few years ago, and the pants that I couldn’t even pull over my thighs are eight inches loose on me. (They were about six at their best.) I haven’t weighed myself, I promised myself I’d wait until one week after my back healed. Even if I’ve lost weight, wouldn’t it be cool to get on the scale in a week or two and see an even larger number than I expect? Wicked.
I knew this would pass, but, you know, when you’re expecting to be holed up for 3 days and it turns into 31, well. It gets a little trying.
But I came. I saw. I kicked its ass. Simply put, I win. This is good. Let’s hope this continues a little longer.
After all, I know I don’t deserve it. No, I’ve earned it. And I want it now. Thanks. Got a side of fries for that?
Am I Really Channelling Dorothy Parker?
Watching Raymond Chandler’s The Big Sleep with Humphrey Bogart this morning had me waxing nostalgic on my Twitter feed.
smuttysteff I think I was born in the wrong decade. I think I should’ve been some bitchy vixen singing jazz in the ’30s.
smuttysteff The kind who laughed and blew smoke in mens’ faces. Yup.
DavidStephenson @smuttysteff No, you’re channeling Dorothy Parker http://tinyurl.com/2ml5ae
smuttysteff @DavidStephenson I’m channelling Dorothy Parker? Let’s hope I skip the alcoholism, depression, and lonely, bitter death, then, eh? 🙂
It’s funny, you know. Dorothy Parker was known for her caustic way, her incredible essays and other writing, her brilliant witty but cutting use of language, and when she got old, she got all depressed that she was just a “wisecracker” and more or less drank her way out of this life.
It reminds me, really, of when I was younger, around 19 or 20, when I was super-popular and everybody’s friend, thanks to my wise-cracking ways that everyone loved, of a dream I had one night that pretty much literally changed me forever. Continue reading
When Life Changes The Game On You
We don’t always like who we become as a result of the situations life forces us into.
I’m not enjoying either my life or who I’ve been of late. I’ve had back issues now for a month. My back has never been a problem for more than three or four days. A month? For three weeks now I’ve been sprawled most of my waking hours on my floor. I’ve had to ask friends to run for groceries, and I’ve even begged them to clean my place, take my laundry down, and more. To call this injury “debilitating” for at least two of the four weeks, even until this past weekend, would not be overstating it.
An injury like this is a lesson in how to lose your pride, and fast.
I had a low moment, several of them, yesterday. Continue reading
So Much For That
I was so looking forward to coming home and writing Friday night, but wound up being pretty much in agony with back pain exacerbated by period cramps until Sunday morning. I’ve had better weekends.
And you’ve had better Mondays, because this leaves you with nothing to read when you’re supposed to be working for a living. Dammit!
Foiled by the universe again.
My back has improved considerably since yesterday morning, though. Graduating from somewhere near “agonizing” to merely “sucking ass totally”, but, believe you me, that’s not just mere semantics — that’s change! And I’ll take it.
I have nothing else to really report, except I got this comment yesterday from someone who’s all pissed I had the gall to do the lame-ass “you can donate to my PayPal” request on my birthday posting, and also totally chewed me out for chewing out someone who left a comment, since I should apparently just delete comments instead of chewing the person out.
What fun is that, though? I have a million arguments on why that posting deserved reaming in particular, but I deleted yesterday’s comment, so I won’t bother with specifics. Hey, he more or less told me to do so. I aim to please.
But let’s say two things here and now. If I want to be a loser and ask for money, since you never know if you don’t try, that’s my prerogative. I’m the stupid fuck who’s whiling away MY life to write this blog, so why not ask for reward? I’ve been broke off my fucking ass all year, so why the hell NOT ask for money? If you laugh at it, GREAT, because I’m being half tongue-in-cheek about it. If you donate, then holy shit, awesome! If you ignore it, all the power to you. Who gives a fuck? But to waste time getting RILED because I’m being a goof? Well, that’s your prerogative, but don’t expect me to care.
Oh, and never mind that I spend a couple hundred bucks a year on hosting fees or countless hours writing. I work for a living, too, you know. Clearly *my* time isn’t worth anything so long as you have your 2.3 minutes worth of reading. Fucking hell.
And, finally, if you don’t like my writing, don’t waste my time, and don’t waste yours. Go read someone else. Seriously. Life’s too fucking short. For either of us.
I learned a long time ago — all the things that piss people off about me are the things others come to love about me. So I’d rather keep it simple, be myself, and worry about the select people who actually can like someone who’s an acquired taste as much as I am, and fuck the rest. Because life’s too short.
Oh, and this guy gave me hell for trying to be the ruler of The Internetz. Um, I’m not, dude. But it’s my blog. I used to call it The Cunting Linguist. Do you really think I’m all about sunshine and roses, pleases and thank yous? No, I can be a cunt. It’s what I do. I can be a bitch here as much as I like. See the quote on the bottom of my sidebar? When you’re slapped, you’ll take it and like it? Right.
And if not, then there’s the door.
Of Rainy Days, Write Nights, And Kissing Boys
Oh! The rain is pounding the streets as car tires slap-slap-slap their way over the busy streets near my home. I’ve hit bottom on my coffee mug and should be zapping to the door, but first need to get the funk out with a long hot shower.
I’m bussing in the downpour. Tonight I’ll come home armed with a bottle of wine. I’m sequestering myself for some writing. I like to bottle it up sometimes, like sexual tension. When you don’t write for a while, it comes a little harder, a little faster, a little more furious, sometimes longer. I’m getting to that bursting point.
The great dead Canuck writer Robertson Davies once uttered that a writer ought not write until the thought of not writing becomes unbearable. I give in so much to the want to write that I seldom know the fit-to-burst waiting-for-it sensation. And like with sex, a little deprivation can go a long, long ways to making things fun again.
But I know the writing desire will hit before I return home this evening. I can feel it percolating.
Now, that doesn’t mean I’ll write worth a shit. It could all be recycled pretentious crap. But I’d rather hope for the best.
Whatever to write on, though? I’m torn between the right-wing idiots who’ve been writing on my blog of late, or matters of lust and longing that have begun to appear in my life. I’m leaning toward the matters of the heart, though, as we’ve all probably been getting our fill of politics of late. After all, I still haven’t told you about the fantastic makeout session I had just before my back gave out on me. Literally RIGHT before. Talk about the agony and the ecstasy. Love me a great makeout session. Three hours on the floor, well.
Speaking of which, to say I’m keen to see this boy again is a bit of an understatement. Perhaps the word “riled” might be more befitting. I had dirty notions that such an encounter might come my way this weekend, now that my back’s healing. What happens then? I get my period last night, a few days early. Talk about getting a red flag on the play(ing). God.
Ah well. Yes, working for a living is a foolish, foolish thing. If ever a girl deserved to be independently wealthy and work-free, this would be she. I could blog to my heart’s content. And putter about my home. And make boys call in sick to work to while away a dirty, dirty day.
But. Sadly I’m a working girl, and this girl’s finally going to scrub up and get out the door to the office. Tonight, a write night. I love a Friday night write night with good wine. Of the simple “me” things that keep my life mine, it’s one of my favourites.
HI! Welcome, Welcome, Welcome!
I’ve been in hiding! I’ve finally fooled the Feds and I can come out from behind the watercooler! Schwing!
Okay, no, my URL has been all fucked up and because Blogger is a finicky CUNT, I somehow got locked out of my FTP log-in, despite changing passwords to be identical about a million times.
I’ve been in post-withdrawal hell! Fuck!
FIRST THINGS FIRST: Do not change your bookmarks! Do not change your RSS feed subscription address! CHANGE NOTHING. Before you know it, I’ll be back home on SmutandSteff.com. You’re at SmuttySteff.com temporarily because I wanted you readers back and because I don’t want you thinking I’ve abandoned all y’all. We’re waiting for site propagation now, and then everything will be done in a couple days. And everything will be back to normal… but sexier! Look at this place!
But, really, Blogger probably did us all a big favour. I would have just whined at you the last two weeks.
I’ve been off work with a blown back since October 3rd. It got worse the next four days as I sank into the worst physical pain of my life. It’s slowly (I mean SLOWLY) improved since Thursday, but I’m still kinda a mess, and a return to work looms in mere hours.
Still, look! A fabulous new home. Come on, tell me how much you love the new layout. 🙂 Plus, now powered by WordPress plug-ins, I’ve got “CommentLuv” enabled so it’ll whore your most recent blog post (if you want it to) underneath your name whenever you leave me a comment. See? I get comment love, and you get blog visit love. How cool is that?
Samantha and Ang are my heroines who saved me from WordPress migration hell and some seriously fucked up server chaos. Thanks, ladies. You make me swoon!
Now, you could have been following my drug-induced painkiller ramblings on Twitter had you been following my feed during all this. Or you could have even followed all the drama in bringing this site live. But without subscribing to my Twitter, you’d never have known about why I hadn’t posted in 10 days. Now, though, you can follow me on Twitter through the sidebar, or subscribe. Crazy, I know.
Finally, be patient with me. It’s going to take me about three or so weeks perhaps to finish off the fine details of the transfer — all the archival tagging, categorizing, and link-repairing — required to get this blog up to its full WordPress power. Links have changed in the transfer, tags have been lost, categories never existed. Soon my whole backlog, including ALL my work I ever wrote on The Cunting Linguist and all the 3600+ comments left on there for me, will be entirely searchable by subject, category, related articles, keyword, and chronology. With 1,000 posts on every topic imaginable, it’s time I have such search power behind my wee blog.
Like I say: CHANGE NOTHING. I’ll be sorting all that out, but at least you can read me in the meantime.
Together again, minions! We’re together again.
Note to universe: This wasn’t what I had in mind when I was thinking lately that I’d like to spend a little more time on my back. Shit. 10 days of lying on the floor? Thank god THAT’s coming to an end. Now, I need me a little other action on my floor, thankyouverymuch.
Note to YOU: There’s a lot of content from August 2005 to January 2007 that has never seen the light of day on Smut and Steff, it’s all original to The Cunting Linguist and never was entirely brought over. The comments are ALL there, finally, so there might be some fun to be had by surfing the much-more-complete archives — which needs to be tagged and categorized, but hey. Gimme time!
Welcome to the New Digs!
Hey, world. You’ve reached the work-in-progress temporary new home of SmutandSteff.com.
We’re having incredible difficulties in getting my URL sorted out. It’s still going to be at least two days before that sorts out. I’m figuring a week or so. I’ve given up being upset about it.
I am, however, upset that a reader and e-friend and blogging colleague, the incredible Ang of The Sweltering Celt has been so incredibly put out after days and days of endless assistance that she’s been doing for me as under a really paltry trade. If you’re looking for help making a Blogger-to-Wordpress migration, she works pretty cheap with a PayPal donation, you know. Ang, you’re fabulous!
But, you know, good things come to those who wait. I mean, hey, look at this place, wouldja?
I’ve made all the HTML changes from the free WP Aurora Theme, which has some strange design things like blockquote that actually does the opposite of drawing you in to read it (so, I’ve changed that) and I’ve made the colours more punchy and fun. Over the next couple weeks there’ll continue to be more changes. The categories will continue to expand but then get bunched into master lists, so my archives will be much more easily searched by topic. Considering I’ve written more than 1,000 posts over the years, that’s a big benefit.
Which brings us to the sheer volume of content you’ll find here.
I’ve managed to assimilate both my blogs — The Cunting Linguist and Smut & Steff — into one monster volume. ALL my original comments — all 5,000 of them — are now found here on this site. All postings have been reverted back to the original version. For the first time ever, all that content is on one great site. This means there’s more than 500 postings that were NOT on Smut & Steff that you can now read here — specifically anything from before 2007, probably only 30% of that content was ever published on Smut & Steff.
Now, it’s funny, when I was chatting with Ang, she totally was surprised when I mentioned during the URL-switching process that I’m the owner/writer of The Cunting Linguist, which was a weirdly big success for me in 2005-2006. Switching URLs back then was easily one of the most moronic things I’ve ever done, but shit happens. Still, I’m her, she’s me, and now it’s ALL here.
Sorry the whole process is taking so long, minions, but I think it’s all going to be worth it. Patience, baby, patience. I’m irritated it’s taking so long, but I’m thrilled with how well it’s going. A lot of work ahead of me, but when I’m done, I’m done. Yay!
Enjoy the new digs, minions. But do NOT change your bookmarks or RSS feed — this blog’s location will be BACK at smutandsteff.com before you know it. No, really! Or in about a week. No, really…
Why Sarah Palin Scares Me
If you read me, and you’re a fan of Sarah Palin? I’m offended by your ignorance, and the fact that you deem me entertaining yet take THAT THING seriously. Don’t read me, please. It’s insulting. And educate yourself.
She is ignorant, uninformed, inarticulate, and frankly, dangerous. If you support her? You are, too.
Let’s talk about all the reasons I hate this woman. As much as I dislike that word, hate, this woman prompts that feeling in me for all the things she stands for, that I stand against. Few brands of people fill me with as much terror as someone like her.
For starters, rape victims were on the hook for part or all of the rape kits in her town of Wasilla. Her chief of police did it, and she never tried to stop it. Some reports state her town had the highest rape statistics in Alaska, which had the highest rape statistics in America. Now, there’s no proof Palin ever argued in favour of keeping this policy, but she sure as hell never tried to repeal it — which you’d think, as a woman, she might feel like getting on side of women, and as a mother, that she’d want rapists off the streets–whatever the fiscal cost. Gee, if you’re not willing to spring for rape kits so you can properly investigate whodunnit, I guess the same rapists stay in business, huh?
On the question of whether she would allow a daughter who was raped by her father and made pregnant to abort the baby, she said she would “counsel” them to “choose life”.
The woman believes homosexuality is a choice. In 2008. In the same interview I’ve just hyperlinked to, from CBS, she said:
Continue reading
What If Our Lives Were Movies?
I’m officially 35 today. Time flies when you’re having fun.
As a result of my birthday, though, I’ve been thinking a lot about life and love.
I still haven’t been bothering getting back into the dating after taking this month off of it, thanks to a persistent yeast infection that has me pretty frustrated (but is starting to take its leave of me), and some other things. But I want to get back into dating in the coming month and will probably start lining things up soon.
There’s an assortment of men I’ve been sort of stringing along (for all the right reasons), and probably half have fallen away (not a bad thing), those who remain are a varied batch indeed. I may already have a favourite in that batch, but right now’s not the time to be hedging bets, I feel. I need my life to get past this short chapter so I can enjoy myself again.
It had me thinking last night about real life versus the movies, and I thought how much simpler my life would be if it was a movie. Edit out this boring bit with infections and fatigue, splice together all the fun and crazy dates, skip past the lame ones that don’t even offer comic relief, and then focus on the best of the good stuff when it finally comes down, and have all sex scenes be well-lit with great angles. Continue reading