When The Cat’s Away…

All types of bad shit happens. Seriously.

I was going to have the apartment to myself from Thursday night through Monday. This was literally the following weekend after Vegas and I was ready. Sooooo ready.

But then things happened.

The Monday after Vegas I came home to one of my two cats not doing the best. I thought he was just having allergies. When my partner came home, he had gotten worse. We decided to take him to an emergency pet hospital, where he passed away. Being the stronger person emotionally, I had to take care of everything, which didn’t bother me at the time. I’m very good at bottling up emotion until I can ugly cry alone.

I cried a lot that weekend, and felt incredibly alone with the cat that disliked me. It wasn’t a good weekend to be alone.

So, that was shit day 1.

The fabulous World Cup was FINALLY happening and I was ready to watch all the games being replayed the first night I was alone. I pushed the “ok” button to start being interactive and that’s when my tv receiver died. Not even 10 minutes after I dropped my partner off at the airport. I called him and his only response was “this is why we can’t have nice things.” A 30 minute call to my cable provider and I had to schedule a worker to come out between 8-12 Saturday morning. Ugh, my life. Thank Zeus I had hbo go on the Xbox. Two full nights of no real tv; I could never be one of those people that only streams tv shows.

As if losing your ability to watch live television is bad, just wait! My week COULD get worse!

That Friday I had a huge meeting/presentation for work. No problem for me; I love hearing the sound of my own voice. However, I wasn’t feeling it after my shitty Monday. That was then exacerbated by my dick of a boss. We all think we have shit bosses, but he gets the ultimate dick award for that week. I didn’t want to come out and say, my fur child just died at the age of 2, and he had no problem letting me ask how he was and then continued on his day without saying more than 5 minutes of conversation with me. This fun behavior continued all week! And boy was my life awesome! By Friday, all hell broke loose. After the meeting, the team went to lunch together, and my lovely boss randomly vanished. I stayed for another 20 or so minutes until the rest of the team decided to go. I offered to drive the two car-less people if they wanted a ride, which they decided they should take. I dropped them both off on my way to the office, and when I went in to drop supplies off and leave, he surprised me by being in our office. Complete silence. He invited others to come get cake, and was awkwardly pleasant to them while being an ass hat to me. I mentioned I was tired and would like to go home early, and that’s when he went psycho. I apparently took too long to get back to the office, and then he called me insensitive for not texting or calling him while I was driving his boss and one of our partners. Needless to say, I was fuming and sat at my desk doing nothing the remainder of Friday afternoon. He tried to say I could still go home, and I sat there, pretending to read some dumb article.

Did I go to his boss? Yes, I certainly did. Did anything really happen to him? Nope. Did he get pissy to the wrong people a few months later? He certainly did. I finally got a new job and within a month of leaving, home boy got demoted to my job. No sympathy.

I had my first legit awkward Tinder moment that weekend. Not, hey aren’t you my cousin, type of awkward, but just a bad experience.

I matched with a guy that wasn’t my type, but I was lonely and still had no tv that Friday night and was ready for some company. We texted and he was going to come over for sex and then leave. Sounds perfect for a guy! When he arrived, I was in my “sleep clothes” of an oversized shirt and sport shorts. Nothing fancy. He was around 6’2″, white, slender, 5 o’clock shadow, and a brown hair buzz cut. He came in and I showed him to the bedroom, making awkward small talk the entire time because I am the most awkward. I asked if he wanted anything, and he said he needed to step outside to make a phone call. No problem to me. I went back into my bedroom and checked my phone, namely tinder and Facebook, and I then totally heard a loud ass truck engine. I just stood there in total disbelief. I quickly walked to my door and looked out my peephole in case it somehow wasn’t him; he wasn’t there. I stood there for the longest two minutes of my life. What did I do? Do I really look that different from my tinder profile? I didn’t think so. Maybe I smelt weird, I had just run. No, I had put perfume on. I was beyond confused; I was hurt, upset, alone, and not in a good place. I would have gone out if it wasn’t already past midnight.

I texted him just one word: really? And I happily never heard from him again.

But all of those shenanigans aside, I met one of my only fuck buddies that has turned into a legit friend that weekend, I ran a 10k in horrible humidity, and I watched the Spurs win. Go Spurs go!

The Daring Vagina

Taking This Vagina Circus on the Road

I’ve got, two tickets to paradise, and if you bring a vibrator I might just cum!

Yeah, I chant that line in my head a lot when I’m not in my city and in the need for sex. Though, I provide my own toys. The greatest gift of this past calendar year for me has been traveling. More specifically, traveling with a nice side of sex. However, if you haven’t noticed, I’m not a bar girl; I don’t go places to let men pick me up. That’s just not me. So, for all of you slightly shy or no nonsense gals/guys, have I got some tips for you on using social media/the internet to get someone in your pants.


Look at Catherine, all smug with a dildo filled suitcase.

How should I find my marathon sex partner, you ask?
That’s a fan-fucking-tastic question; I’m glad you asked! I will use craigslist or tinder. However, they both have pros and cons. 


Tinder: immediate responses once you change your bio to say you’re in town and looking for a fling or when you shoot a pic for a moment of a bottle of tequila with the phrase “want to help me finish this and start something else?” If someone comes on too strong, unmatch. Annoying? Unmatch. Accidentally swiped right? Unmatch. 

Craigslist: you can be direct with what you want. If you want a man with 6 pack abs and a decent cock, there’s a guy out there that will fit the bill. You also don’t have to swipe; you just have to read and judge whatever pictures they send you. Easy, right? 
Both: one night stand sex from the local cuisine! Just wrap it before you tap it!


Tinder: maybe no one you’ve matched with wants sex, or they want it the following day. Bitch, I have a plane tomorrow and the vagina train is wet and ready right the fuck now. If you’re too pushy, they’ll unmatch you. Or, knowing you’re horny, they’ll want to see pictures of your lady/male bits and never intend to meet up. This has happened too much in my life and now I’m just like, ehhh nope. 

Craigslist: flakes. So many flakes. You try to arrange it early, and then something comes up, they get sick, or they just stop texting you back. 

Both: looking nothing like their pictures; that is the single most annoying thing. You’re 40 without any wrinkles or gray hair and your photo looks like a zoomed in early 2000s digital photo? You must look the same!

Now, for those of you thinking that you should take that weekend trip somewhere full of those exotic men you’d love to see between your legs, here are some tips/pointers from the Daring Vagina:

Condoms. Bring them. Bring all of them. I went on my first condom buying experience before a trip (we’ll talk about that later) and it finally made absolutely no sense to me why men are like, I don’t want to buy a pack. Mother fucker, it’s cheaper than a screaming infant or my birth control. 
Traveling with toys in a carry on? I personally say “hell no,” but maybe you want to travel with that 11 inch red dildo and make TSA blush the same shade. I always take out my batteries, bring extra batteries, and my charger in my checked luggage. 
Sexy time clothes. These aren’t always a must, but, if you’re planning out a fantasy with a guy from craigslist, bring all the items. If you want to live up that boyfriend experience, bring the necessary clothes and Advil (for when you say, I’m not in the mood.)
Plan for the unexpected. Out of town sex is all about being flexible. Maybe you’re at a hotel with key entry after 10pm so you have to get them for that booty call. Or you have two full size beds over a king; sex in one and sleeping in the other. Or, the worst, people falling off the face of the earth. This will happen a lot to me. The emails either dwindle or stop completely, and if you’re horny…fuck your life.

All in all, it’s a luck game; you have to play the field a bit too. In my experience, having at least two craigslist options means you might have one show up.

Why am I giving you an overview? Because I’m about to take this vagina on the road! Where we going? Every fucking where. Catherine and I are hitting the west coast, east coast, Midwest…nowhere is safe from this velvety vagina (if I do say so myself!)

Be ready for the traveling chronicles. First weekend: Portland, Oregon, home of the hipsters and no-shows.

The Daring Vagina

Just because I need to vent…

Why do people, aka men, find it acceptable to call/text you after 10pm to start a dialogue about sex? Why? I feel old; I’m 26 and I have a “normal 8-5 job, so I go to bed early, even on vacation time. I’m not ruining my sleep schedule for someone that may or may not give me an orgasm.

Why do men get offended when I blatantly ask, what do you offer when it comes to sex? Are you worth my shaved legs/lady bits, effort of putting on clothes and energy? If you have a tiny penis and haven’t had sex in 8 months, I don’t see myself having a good time.

Condoms; why do men purposely go, oh I have some!, and when you show up don’t but then get all sad when you bring some? Bitch, I don’t know your penis and Catherine is too wonderful to get or share your terrible diseases.

Why must haters hate? Men are just as bad as women when it comes to put downs. I may not be your cup of tea, but must you go out of your way to be a dick? If given the opportunity, I will say something snarky back because, really? You think it’s acceptable to say mean things just because?


All I asked was for someone taller than me that can keep up sexually; pretty sure this was a twelve year old, but I digress...

I’m sure if I got cat called I’d tell them their dick was too tiny to please even a fly, and then I’d get called terrible names. But again, these are not new things to me; being overweight basically my whole life (and tall as fuck (5’9, yo yo)), I’ve had to deal with idiots and jerks.

That’s all I got.

The Daring Vagina

A Bad Girl Blogger? Me?

wpid-bad-girls-button-2So…I guess you can say that I’m a bad girl; I do enjoy writing about my times with the opposite sex, even when they’re mostly life lessons for those that ever think it’d be a good idea to hook up with a guy in their twenties (spoiler alert, it’s not.)

Super big thank you to Miss JBlondie and the Rambling Goat for nominating me. I am slow lately, but it’s for good reasons, I super promise! I mean….Super Smash Brothers on the Wii U is the GREATEST thing happening in my life. And playing volleyball. And Football. And things. Notice how I didn’t mention sex? I’m slacking there, my bad, girlfriends, my fucking bad.

While I wish I could just nominate the people who nominated me, I actually do read some pretty awesome blogs (when I know how to read) and I hope that those that haven’t stumbled upon them like them as much as I do:

Confessions of a Cheating Housewife I have just recently stumbled and enjoyed reading these stories.

Black Book Confessions Someone that I feel has a lot of the same stories as me, which makes me excited and also jealous. Going through different situations with the men of this age…always a good read.

Another blog that I always enjoy reading is Sexy Times with Sniffles. These stories have such a way of making my panties wet.

——————-RULES: If you are a recipient, please choose 3-5 female bloggers who write about sex (or post sexy pics of them selves, or both) that you admire and award them by passing on the award photo above and the rules.  Also, give a brief explanations of why you love those bloggers so much.  Be sure to notify your favorite bloggers that they got the award!

I’m a Tad Busy

Just a smidgen, promise! I have some stories written, but no pictures. I’ve had to deal with moving, a death in the family, and volunteer work getting crazy.
I may post a story without a picture tomorrow if I don’t draw one today. Sorry for the slacking, my amazing readers and commenters! I miss my notifications dearly, I won’t deny it.

Side note: really excited to say I officially ran 20 miles Sunday. Hallelujah!

You’re all fabulous, and thus deserve my fabulous work cheerleader!


Sooooo happy and peppy!

The Daring Vagina

Sex and Running

Now, this post does not involve a sexy, embarrassing, or even an awkward story. But one day while running it dawned on me: running is basically sex. Now, before you get all, I love sex and hate running-how could they be the same thing?, let me point out a few of these similarities (with beautiful illustrations courtesy of the Daring Vagina (cause I’m multi talented, don’t cha know?))


Sex and Running are both needed things.

The Prep

First, there are the things you buy before sex/running to protect yourself. For sex; condoms, birth control, Advil for the soreness, etc. For running I personally buy body glide, multi vitamins and good wine (gotta numb the pain before it starts.) Shaving is needed for both, at least for women. I feel worse running than at work with hairy legs. I look just as hot before a race as I do before sleeping with a catch of a man.

The Clothing

You have to be ready for running, just like sex. I’ve spent just as much on running shoes as on lingerie. Clothing is essential for both; you gotta look cute in those race photos and look drop dead gorgeous to snag the attention of your next sexual conquest, or future divorced spouse (whichever is up your alley.) My running shoes run me (I’m so punny!) about $120, which can be about 2.5 pieces of lingerie (depending on sales and such.) Make-up and hair styles attract men; and if your hair looks terrible or doesn’t stay out of your eyes….running isn’t fun. And bras. Sports bras are maybe a tad cheaper than some cute bras. But hey, you gotta hold the girls down or they poke your eyes out.

The Seduction


The Daring Vagina in her natural sleeping state

You seduce your own body into wanting to run longer by stretching out. You have to convince yourself that sleeping in until 10 is super lame compared to getting up at 5:45 to beat the heat on a Saturday and sweat it out for a hour or so. You’ll SO have fun. Pretty sure men say that to me a lot. Let me seduce you with my corny pick-up lines (much like those worn out leg stretches) and then fumble with the zipper to the sexy jeans, and jab my finger at your clit for 20 minutes. Yeah…I need to avoid the cheesy pick-up line men.

The Act

Running can take hours or merely minutes, just like sex. You do it when you’re sick, well, drunk, hungover, happy, sad, out of routine or necessity. You even do it when your partner doesnt want to, or vice versa (running when you don’t want to or when the park is just waaaay too full for even a parking spot.) It can take hours, or a short time span. There are many “types” of sex acts, agreed? There are just as many running “acts.” 
I HATE treadmill runs; they are predictable, and you have to tell thr machine, and wait for it to respond to your requests. What is this like? Married sex. It is predictable, and you only want it for a short time and not all the time. 
Road runs are fairly predictable, yet, there are still surprises. This can be like a steady bed partner; a relationship, whether a boyfriend/girlfriend, or a friend with benefits. I don’t hate road runs; they are flat, you know where the turns are, the correct mileage, what it takes when it’s wet (drunk and slippery all over), hot (angry sex), or any other hazard life may throw your way. 
Trail runs are the most fun; you can do it once and be done, much like a one night stand. You never know what to expect; snakes, spiders, armadillos, opossums, other runners around a corner, birds–you never know what to expect on a trail run. It can be a tiny trail (penis), beaten path (way too experienced/old), riddled with spiders (totally visable stds), mosquitos (unseen stds), or muddy trails (mostly for those taking women home–the period sex.) 
Races are special occasions, like special sexual experiences. This can be fantasies, crossing things off your sex bucket list, that monthly anal sex night with your wife, or birthday sex.
Marathons are in both; marathon sex days or running an actual marathon. I feel like a champ after both, I can eat a whole pizza and not gain a pound. My muscles are sore in places I’d rather not have happen, bruises appear, or even scars (I have scars under my boobs.)

The Enhancements

There are many ways to enhance your running or sex life. For sex, you have toys, lingerie, porn, lubes, and all those special condoms for barely there moments. For running, you have energy packets, running water bottles, compression sleeves for legs and arms, and backpacks or belts to carry your things. These enhance your experience and performance greatly (both for sex and running, speaking from experience.)

The Conclusion

Sex and running both give a great high; endorphins release and as you come to the end, you want to get your reward (climax or medal/beer/food) and get out. When I actually have a real orgasm during sex, it’s the greatest feeling ever. Finishing a race and wearing that medal while chugging down post race beer…it feels the same. You also look the same after both; as a woman you can have make up everywhere, hair all crazy, and sweat in places you’d never want. If it’s a good run or sex, you’re in desperate need of a shower. If the run was enjoyable, you probably want to do it again, just like sex. Maybe this is why I’m a repeat runner.

The Goodbye

Once done with running, you say goodbye with a few good stretches. Just like at the beginning with seducing, if you and your partner liked it, there’s some talk and possibly even some compliments thrown out to get you to one back. If you don’t stretch, there’s no more running. If you or your partner doesn’t leave a nice taste (cum or words) in their partner’s mouth, ain’t no one coming back for that.

Hopefully you all enjoyed this random posting as much as I did thinking it up (while running, I might add! 😉 ) And let’s be honest, sometimes running is better than sex. I at least feel a tad better after running, and sex I usually make all the faces while finding semen in unpleasant places.

The Daring Vagina