“What Are We Going to Do Tonight, Brain?”

First things first, I want to announce the winner to the giveaway! Put your paws together for hilarious Working Dan from Shameless Promotions! He wins the “Therapy is Expensive, Tequila is Cheap” mug and I’ll be shamelessly promoting his site in the sidebar for all of January! Thanks so much to everyone who entered and congrats, Dan! (And on a sidenote, anyone can still get their own mug at my store here.) The next giveaway will probably be February–but don’t quote me on that.

Now on to the entry!

I’ve unfortunately been so busy with edits on my book and Christmas (I had the 12/25 post scheduled) and such that I haven’t had the time to share with you all something really, really fucking awesome that happened recently. Exactly two weeks ago today I received an email from the brilliant Louisa of Weezafish that she had received the “Writes Like a Slut” shirt that I sent her. The reason that this is major news because we had gone to great lengths to get this shirt to her since she couldn’t order it herself directly from my Zazzle site due to shipping restrictions to her location, namely South Africa. Check Louisa rocking out in her shirt, yo!

writes like a slut shirt

First off, Louisa would like you to know that behind her is a handmade African natural grass brush, and that her hair is not in fact frizzy like that.

Second, is a cute little tidbit (I cannot tell you all how much I fucking love that these pics always come with stories!) which is that this pic was taken by her five-year-old son with her camera phone after Louisa wasn’t satisfied with the ones that her hubby had taken with the camera. That’s commitment to the cause, peeps!

But the reason that I am extra stoked about Louisa getting her shirt is because a few weeks earlier I got a picture from Naty, one of the winners in September’s giveaway, that she had received her shirt, too.

writes like a slut shirt

I’d have been thrilled to know that Naty got her shirt no matter what, but what’s really cool is that this shirt made it to South America!

With the arrival of Louisa’s and Naty’s shirt, “Writes Like a Slut” is now featured on four fucking continents! There are members of the WLAS Posse in North America, South America, Europe and Africa! Keep your fingers crossed that 2013 will bring a WLAS in Asia, Australia, and if anyone knows someone heading to one of the research facilities in Antarctica we’ll take that continent, too!

So the answer to “what are we going to do tonight, Brain?” is of course:

“The same thing we do every night, Pinky… Try and take over the world.”

And we are doing it one t-shirt at a time.

Fifty Shades of Kat

What could be a better way to start a month than with a Soft Core Friday post? And what a SCF post it is, too! First up, is the bidding adieu to Zombie Awareness Month with the ultimate bang, namely by my writing some zombie-inspired smut. When I had originally wrote this piece several months ago, it was more humorous than erotic, so I did a massive rewrite over the past few days (despite a summer flu) and I came up with something that I actually kinda love. Seriously the piece is not as whacko as you are probably thinking it is and I think that it’s one of my better written ones, so please check out Love Bites. Don’t be shy about leaving comments either because you can leave them anon, and I’d love your feedback.

And zombie smut was just the intro, peeps! Now onto the post!

fanfic sex fail, fan fictionToday’s SCF post comes courtesy of those “Fifty Shades of Grey” books. Bloody fucking hell I am so fucking sick of hearing about these books! First of all, they are so poorly written. They originated as fan fiction and it shows. Second, I just don’t get BDSM, and based on the way it’s written in these books the author doesn’t either. The only thing that I can conclude from their success is that people are really starving for BDSM stories, so here’s a little anecdote on the topic from my own experiences. Off we go then.

I’d met the guy I had been seeing while sparring in martial arts, so it’s probably not surprising that our sex always had a wrestle-y, competition for dominance to it.

“You are a bad girl and you should be tied up during sex,” he had told me one time while pinning my hands down.

I rolled my eyes. “You couldn’t tie a knot that would hold me, so I’ll pass.”

“Scared?” I knew he was trying to goad me, but it wouldn’t work.

“No, annoyed. I don’t have any interest in playing a stupid game.”

I thought that we were done with the subject until the next time we were having sex when he suddenly demanded that I hit him.

I ignored the first request, but when he barked at me again to hit him, I gave him a hard pat to the side of his face just to shut him up.

“You call that a slap? You hit like a fucking girl! I said to hit me!”

Now, there are three phases that you never want to say to me, at least when you are within my reach. I grew up with only boys so, “You hit/play/kick like a girl.” is one of them. None of the trigger phrases should be followed by an invitation for me to hit you, especially not this one, because chances are that I will.

In this particular case I drew my hand back and I nailed that fucker with a slap that would have made the most jaded pimp weep with pride.

He didn’t ask me to hit him again.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I broke my hand. (No, not really, but I find the idea is so hilarious that I almost wish that was true.)

That story probably didn’t titillate the way that you were expecting, so to make up for it, I’ll conclude today’s Soft Core Friday post with the next member of the Writes Like a Slut crew. I purposely wanted to make sure that I posted her pic on a SCF since she is the originator of the idea. I give you the hotness that is my darling Random Girl from Random Girl Blogs.

writes like a slut shirt

Have a kickass weekend, my dear naughty ones! Don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do–which means that you have free reign to do pretty much anything. And if you do, please blog about it since I’m sloooowly catching up on my roll.

Writes Like a Slut

I was really excited about what I had planned for Friday’s “Soft Core Friday” post–(Yes. I’m going to make awful innuendos throughout this entire post)–because it had been a long time coming–(See? I told you.)–but then my job became the ultimate cockblocker this past week I had to go tantric-mithuna with this post–(I’ll save you a trip to good ol’ wiki-land and tell you that, yes, that’s another innuendo).

A long time ago, in a blog far away (Actually it was this blog, back when I called it “Tapetum Lucidum”) I was squirming and shivering with joy because I had surrendered my OFFICIAL smut writing virginity to my dear friend, Jewels.  Unofficially I’d been featured on another smuterotica site sans my name, but I wanted the first time (that my name was attached to the piece) to be special, and what better way to do it than with a friend.

(If you think that these innuendos are bad, you should have read the filth I was tweeting yesterday about fixing the kitchen faucet.)

honey badger, don't give a shitI had barely had time to enjoy the afterglow of getting off that story to Jewels when I received a text from a relative whom I will call “CC”, telling me that my writing was disgusting, and that I “write like a slut”. I’ll admit that my feelings were hurt a bit, but then I realized that I really didn’t give a shit.

Then the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was hilarious!  While I’d expect that my smutty writing inspires certain reactions, CC actually got so worked up that she huffed and puffed and she called me a slut.  I mean, all she would have needed to add was that I deserved to be punished for my filthy prose and this post would have fucking wrote itself.  Being told that I “write like a slut” ended up giving me so much jolly that I decided that I needed to make a t-shirt proclaiming it.

Seriously though, I mean, how does one write like a slut after all?  Is it by simply writing smut in the first place?  I don’t think so, because as I (in)famously demonstrated in this post, poorly written smut is the most hilarious thing outside of calling Nicholas Cage a serious actor.  I guess if I am guilty of “writing like a slut” it’s because, instead of settling down with one writing genre like Urban Fantasy and making legitimate little book babies, I fool around with several genres and make a bunch of little bastards blog posts.  One night I will be getting jiggy with Mr. Humour and create a South Park style cartoon about food poisoning, while another night will be spent with Mr. Horror producing a morbid tale of revenge, and a third will be with Sir Poetry who is a pretentious snot that thinks he’s a knight, conceiving poetic drivel.

So whether it be because I wrote smut, or because I write in several different genres, or because I write while wearing over-the-knee high boots, I decided that I’m ready to wear that shirt proclaiming it to the world.  Despite a lack of time, and possessing no artistic talent, I created this design last week.

writes like a slut

On the back it has:

writes like a slut, you are welcomeI’m as anxious as Tim Tebow on his wedding night (let’s face it, that boy’s a virgin and we all know it) for my shirt to get here, and you will all know when it comes by all of the screaming and shrieking which shall erupt from my house.

And since I realize that many writers start out “writing like sluts” too, I set it up so that you can order your very own “Writes like a Slut” shirt, too here with the “You are welcome” and my shameless self-promotion, or here without it.  (FYI–you might have to turn off the “G-rated” default search filter to see the shirts.)  Also, I might make other colours, too, so if you have a request, let me know.  Finally, if you do decide to encourage my depravity, and buy one of these obscene shirts, and if you are so inclined, send me a picture of you wearing your shirt, and I’ll post it in the forthcoming section of this blog because I love you in a completely inappropriate manner like that.

PS-Jewels reposted another piece of my smut this past Friday.  She says you are welcome, and so do I.