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Superior Women

You say I'm a bitch as if it were a BAD thing.

Art Thread
Posted:Jan 28, 2017 10:33 am
Last Updated:Apr 24, 2017 10:33 pm
64642 Views
Pinning this to the top of my blog so we can have an ongoing thread about art.

No rules, per se –
I only ask that you read what is written before commenting. Try to use information such as the title or the artists name when responding (so if the thread gets busy, we will know what others are talking about).

It also will help if a WIP (work in progress) is posted.

If posting/sharing art – do not do more than one at a time so others can have a chance to comment/discuss before moving on to the next. (look at me – all positive it will be a busy thread…)

I might occasionally change this cover photo.
For now – my painting ‘Unfettered’ 30x40” oil on panel
46 Comments
shit my mother says
Posted:Apr 26, 2017 5:36 pm
Last Updated:Apr 26, 2017 10:57 pm
143 Views
Text from Mom: Tell him to mow before I get there because I plan to be running around naked with no curtains on the windows! If he mows in front of my windows I can not be responsible for what he sees.

My reply a few hours later: Well, that worked. It is a Tuesday and he was up at 4:00 am, worked a long day…and yet, the lawn is now mowed.

Mom: KimBURLY, my feet are swollen…rub my feet.
Me: Not on your life, old lady.
Mom: …moving closer…
Me: Get your freaking feet away from me!

At her party:
Mom: KimBURLY, this is D, my boss.
D: Ex-boss, you mean
Me (whispering to myself): I’m your boss now, you old battle-axe….get in that basement.

Me: Mom, stop calling my husband ‘gorgeous’ on Facebook. It’s creepy. I have clients there.
Mom: Don’t be ridiculous. Everyone loves me.

Mom: …sends me a voice mail of her humming….
Me: sends her a photo of me in her bedroom with the caption ‘I am doing dirty things in your room’…while wiping my muddy feet on her carpet.

Mom: I know he hates wind chimes, so when you get the shed up…I’m going to hang some on there…*old lady cackling laughter*
Me: ohjesus, this is how I came to be how I am…..
*hangs head*

___________________________________________________________

On another note:
I got an email from a collector of the alias work (cows).
It made my day. I vow to not complain about the alias stuff for at least a week.
Here it is in it’s entirety:

Your paintings are having a lovely effect on my household. In particular, my father who has Alzheimer\'s is spending time gazing at your paintings and is kind of conversing as a result. Very positive.

__________________________________________________

Speaking of memory issues.
I have a bad memory. Really bad and everyone knows it.
How do you not remember that? …is a phrase I have heard often.
The slave says he is going to start a list when dementia kicks in. Instead of ‘shit my mother says’, it is going to be ‘Shit I’m going to tell my wife’. He has stories (untrue) that he is saving up. Should I be concerned that he seems to be wishing dementia on me?
I kind of hope I forget about kink because that would be hilarious. He has plenty of photos he could show me….can you imagine? Lil 90-year-old lady gasping in shock at her past deviances…I did what?!

By the way – I stole the idea for the title of this blog post from a blog that was called ‘shit my father says’. It was highly entertaining. I think there may have been a book.

_____________________________________________

This photo is because I am discussing older people and this is the kind of colorful way I would like to dress when I hit a ‘certain age’. I don’t know what age that will be. I am still in the age of wanting to showcase my figure to the best I can. Someday, I assume…I might be at the age where I want to cover it up. If I am going to cover it up, I am going to wrap it colors. My wardrobe is heavy with much black and always has been. For some reason, I see being ‘old’ as meaning I will want to look…wilder. Just curious – is this sexy to the men? I would like to think it is. But, I am not sure. The slave smiles when I show him stuff like this, but he loves me, so his opinion is biased.
4 Comments
I had almost forgotten
Posted:Apr 25, 2017 6:28 pm
Last Updated:Apr 26, 2017 6:46 pm
636 Views
That reminded me of something else.
(this keeps happening - it funny how that works so often when you are gleefully wasting time)

The name Jebediah.

My daughter was to have a child last September.
She told me they were going to name him Jebediah.
My jaw dropped. I might have raised my voice.
(I yelled)

Are you kidding me?!
What is this…Children of the Corn?!
What is wrong with you?!
Are you joining a cult?!


I guess you could say that I had pretty strong feelings about that name.

I went to TX last September with one intention (besides witnessing the beauty of birth…blahblahblah): to stop them from naming that poor baby Jebediah.

Literally down to the wire in the hospital room and I am pulling up horror movie clips with characters named Jebediah. I might have lied about some of them (she was distracted in labor, it was easy) – but did you know there is an actual horror film with the title ‘Jebediah’?

I kid you not.

‘Jebediah’ - 2011
A group of friends gather for an "All-Girls" camping trip in Amish country. To their horror, "Jebediah" - a viscious Amish serial killer - stalks and slays each one. Rated "R" for Nudity, violence, language and sexual situations.


It was a close call. Even the ex got into it and was pulling for Jebediah (because he didn’t want me picking one). The father of the baby in complete seriousness wanted to name the child ‘Loki’.
I yelled at him – MY CAT’S NAME IS LOKI!

Someday though, I will be able to tell my grandson (Liam) that I saved him from his idiot parents. (Well, at least his first name. His middle name is ridiculous. Should have picked smarter parents kid...)
12 Comments
I am.....sorry...to disappoint....?
Posted:Apr 24, 2017 4:58 pm
Last Updated:Apr 26, 2017 6:47 pm
1192 Views
At one point I had more nudes hanging out in my bedroom than Hefner had in his during the 70’s.

I am grateful, many sold.
I still miss those chicks though.
A few more than others.

I had a gallery owner once tell me that a particular one looked like a fit Martha Stewart.
I could never look at that one the same after that.
He also told me that I painted women better than men.
He was gay and he assumed from my art that I was a lesbian.
Not the subject matter necessarily, but because he thought I put more care into the women’s nudes. Pffftttt.
He sold quite a few of my paintings over the years.
But I don’t think he ever got over the disappointment of me not being a lesbian.
6 Comments
kung-fu painting
Posted:Apr 23, 2017 9:20 pm
Last Updated:Apr 25, 2017 11:16 pm
1511 Views
The paint has been fighting back this week.
And it has been kicking my ass.
I am pretty sure it is my own fault.
I’ve been restless & distracted.
But, I settled down somewhat today and got some skin accomplished.
*whew*
Nothing like a bit of artistic block (even if just a few days) to make a chick with a brush get antsy.
Hmmm…does he look angry enough?
(I can piss people off, so he should look good and raging)
7 Comments
Some temptations are hard to resist
Posted:Apr 22, 2017 9:09 am
Last Updated:Apr 25, 2017 11:08 pm
2153 Views
I told him he had to be here when they deliver the building.

All because it is being built & delivered by an Amish man.
Granted, I do not know much about the Amish – but had an impression that some of them do not talk to or touch women (other than their wives).

“No, I think that is Hasidic Jews”, he says.

He wants to be here because he knows exactly where he wants it positioned.
I want him here to protect the Amish man from me.
We live here, it wouldn’t do to go all weird on him.

But damn.
Something about a man whose religion is strict that makes me want to stand too close to him and do inappropriate things. Tempt him. Make him uncomfortable. How about a one-woman-religion-wrecker?
Make him take payment from me, not my husband *gasp*!
Seriously, how funny would it be to pinch his ass?

Stop, Kim.

Besides – he is apparently Menonite…which sounds duller with no hard-core repressive shit (comparatively).

Oh the repression.
Just imagining it.
How little teases and touches to the arm would be a major temptation…amiright?
He would shake and try to look away.
I would whisper devil-words.

Oh for christs sake – someone get me a monk to ruin.
My birthday is coming up, after all.
And none of those Catholic priests who sin, or mild-Baptists who get caught in hotel rooms. And none of those ones who stone & beh**d women (I have my limits, even in fantasy).
I want a real devout. An innocent.
The most repressed.
I could tie him down and shave his sacred beard off….
(I know, beards are not exactly 'sacred' - don't harsh my flow here....I'm making shit up)

Ok, I really have to get painting.
Stop tempting me, world.
Even the devil has to work on occasion.
9 Comments
I am nosey - tell me
Posted:Apr 21, 2017 6:24 pm
Last Updated:Apr 25, 2017 8:40 am
2442 Views
Comments on that other thread sparked my interest.
I’m curious what you all splurge on, and where you are cheap?
I’ve always found it interesting.
(I may have asked this before).

Ever since my previous marriage when we were friends with a couple, with kids – all close the same age and neighbors, and similar financial situations. Which was mostly sort-of broke (not college-age-broke, but kid-broke). Getting by – if wanting something big it took years of saving.
We would hang out with them and I was always shocked at what they would have no trouble spending on booze – and yet, they were totally cheap when it came to eating out at restaurants. We were eating-out people, but not big on drinking. Later, I think the slave was shocked at how often I liked to eat out. He has slowed me down some on that regard (mostly to be more healthy) and I think I’ve encouraged him more towards it…so we evened out.

My best friend spends a fortune on expensive purses, shoes and décor for her house, but shops for clothes at Goodwill.

I spend a ton on books without blinking, but I am cheap when it comes to shoes/purses.
I love the second hand stores for clothing, but if something looks really fine on my figure, I will splurge.

I don’t try to save money on food. We were food-poor when I was a kid and I have noticed my mother and I both like to have a good stock of food in the house.

Even if I were to become rich – I can not imagine spending big bucks on a car. It is just to get me to places.

I get annoyed as hell when I see people spending more on framing a piece of art than they did the art itself.

I won’t spend on hair cuts/styles, nails or toes. I have the excuse that I paint and ruin my nails, but really it is because it seems like a waste of money & time. I have curls and it’s messy no matter what, so no one can tell I get it cut maybe once a year (at least I tell myself that). I have nail-envy sometimes, but even if I were wealthy….sitting in a salon often would bore me too much. I do spend a fortune on hair products though (otherwise my hair would take over the neighborhood).

I don’t care for real jewelry/gems like diamonds. I insisted that my wedding ring be just a band (it has designs though – I looks silver to me, but what do I know? It is white gold apparently). I didn’t want an engagement ring. My mother has a collection of pricey real jewelry passed from her mother. I hope like hell she doesn’t leave it to me, because I will just sell it. I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing those diamond rings. I’d put someone’s eye out (I am also not known for being very sentimental when it comes to things).

My mother is cheap, but she bought fairly expensive new appliances for her new place. I wouldn’t do that. I’d find the cheapest in the color/style I wanted.

I have a friend who bought a refrigerator that must have cost $4000. She likes to cook and she calls it ‘sexy’. She is not wealthy, but does ok. She runs up the credit cards and doesn’t care as she has no one but a niece to leave her house to. She says she doesn’t care if she dies with major debt. Shopping with her makes me jittery.

I am obsessive about debt. I get a thrill paying things off. I throw extra money to various debt all the time. I have paid off every car I’ve had years early. I swear, I might get a sexual thrill every time I send an extra $50 in with a payment. I don’t know if this is from growing up poor, or if I have an inner-geeky-accountant.

I don’t buy new bras or panties until they fall apart and I have to. My bathrobes are old ratty things. (I do have a pricey hot leather corset though). My friend, she has a full dresser just for her hundreds of bras & panty sets. They are immaculate. I think she opens her drawers and lovingly strokes them when no one is around.

My electric bill is huge compared to the neighbors (the electric company likes to send me helpful graphs to point this out to me). I like to have lights on and interesting accent lights. Other people I know go around turning things off all the time. I also keep the air/heat just as I want it. I am trying to get more used to this better climate where I can open the windows more – too many years in Texas where you had to run the ac year-round. I know so many people who will be hot or cold to save money. I won’t do that.

My PIL spend money on travel. I envy them that. Considering we bought a home in our late 40’s, I am not sure that kind of travel is in our future.

The slave has a thing for hats. It is the never-ending-perfect hat search. He has quite a few. He hems and haws over prices, but he can’t resist. He gets excited when he finds cheap quality t-shirts. He must have bragged about the $10 shirts he found at an outlet for a year. And he is so not wasteful. He is the left-over King. I have to watch him or he might hoard things (in case he can make something out of that old door later/or the ripped canvas I tried to throw away, etc..)

I have decent camera I keep upgraded for my art and shoots, but my computer is not expensive. I use a laptop and I use it hard. I usually have to replace it every 3 years. I paint from it and it is covered in paint splatters. Tiny globs on my screen (so know that when I am looking at your photos here, there could be a glob of green somewhere on your face or whatever parts you are showing

I used to spend on kink toys. Occasionally I still do, but at this point…I’m pretty well-stocked. My most expensive item had to have been the single tail.

Tell me about your cheap areas and your splurges.
I want to know!
I am so damned nosey on this subject.

I am pretty caught up (thanks to the Trump Slump) and am switching back to the real painting today. Or it would have been today, but my ‘mental switch’ is having a hard time flipping. So yeah, is it obvious I am wasting time?

The photo is because that is what I bought my friend for her birthday – the one who has all the bras and has credit card debt up to her eyeballs. She got a Bitch tea cup. That is just the kind of friend I am. There, that proves it. I don’t hate all people. I might call all people names at one time or another though.
16 Comments
Speaking of complaints
Posted:Apr 20, 2017 8:05 pm
Last Updated:Apr 23, 2017 7:26 am
2700 Views
Speaking of complaints.
Which is what I am doing today.
I have more.

In the last year I have met two sets of couples. One set is friends with the parents-in-law and one set is friends with my mother. My PIL are very different than my mother. But those sets of couples have a few things in common. Somewhere in their late 60’s-early 70’s, childless, and really quite wealthy.

Both sets have done the same thing. We hear they want to meet us. Maybe someone says they like my art or admire the husbands career. But that may be the parents just saying that – they really just want to meet the grown children of their friends. Or so it seems. We met them and it has been almost unbearable. The same thing happened with both sets (one set is Swedish, the other Americans). They spent HUGE amounts of time showing us their homes and all their expensive stuff. They talked – a lot. If we tried to join in the ‘conversation’, we were cut off and interrupted. Their ‘talking’ sounded like dull lecturing/boring bragging. They asked nothing of us – there was no interest in who we are or what we do or our lives/kids, etc.. After hours, they knew our names – that is quite literally it. We were apparently there to listen to them and admire all their stuff.

These were nice people. They fed us and smiled and seemed….nice. I suppose. In both cases, the men cooked and made a show of it. But these were not conversations – they were one-sided show-off meetings. Freaking ego-stroking shit. Don’t they have people they can pay for that?

The thing is – they could have been interesting, even if not interested in us. One couple founded a wickedly successful school in Sweden and hearing about that could be fascinating. The other couple are both retired high-ranking military and one used to work in the Pentagon. That could be interesting to hear about. But what did they want to talk about? Stuff. Stuff they bought with lots of money.

After this happened (again) this past weekend, I started dwelling on how much I can’t stand people. Why express desire to meet us? There is no interest in us. We were an audience. Is this a wealthy thing? A childless thing? An age thing? What the hell is it this all about? It is so rude. My mother says she could have cut glass with the look I gave when I was interrupted (again) as I attempted to say something to take part in the talking.

I don’t expect all people I meet to be interested in my life or my art. I may come off here as wanting worship/attention, but truthfully – that is just from my slave. But if invited to come over….I expect at least a minimal of back-and-forth. If I’m going to have to quietly listen to you list and show your boring expensive things, you are going to need to pay me – and not just with food. If it weren’t for my respect for the PIL or my mother, I would have left.

Fucking people.
(this does not apply to the fucking people I like)
9 Comments
Introvert, or I just hate people
Posted:Apr 20, 2017 1:23 pm
Last Updated:Apr 24, 2017 9:43 pm
2823 Views
This past weekend we attended my mother’s 70th birthday party (and the party was to say goodbye to her friends, since she will be moving here soon).
I have to admit. I am nervous.
As it gets closer to her moving, I realize all the things I dislike about her.
Don’t get me wrong – I love and admire her endlessly. And she can be funny and fun to spend time with.

But.

She is also a talker, fairly vulgar at times in public, attention-seeking, needy & she hums.
Granted – she is moving into the apartment downstairs. Separate entrance and everything.

But.

She had almost 40 close friends at this party. They love her and will miss her. All she has here is me and the husband. I can’t even think of 40 people I like enough to invite to a party (unless it is a kink party, that is different….lol). Hell, I can’t imagine anything more hellish for myself than a party like that. Food & booze and some presents in a somewhat-fancy room above a restaurant. No entertainment. Just…you know…attention for her. Mind you – this was an expensive party (I chipped in as her present), but she spent a good deal of her own money on it. She wanted attention and was willing to pay for it.

I could do my own family for a birthday and I could do an art show that was about my work – but just a random birthday with people all giving me attention?…nope. Too much fucking pressure to be….civil and entertaining.

The way she needs attention is exhausting sometimes.
And I am getting nervous about it.
I have not lived near her for over 25 years now.
I came back from the weekend and felt ill for a couple days – and tired. So damn tired.

I am happy we can do this for her.
I am also scared shitless. It’s like we are about to have a child. One who is more clever than a toddler when it comes to being the center of attention.
She will be here in a couple weeks to paint her place. Then she moves in June.
When here painting, it will be my birthday, which is always near Mother’s Day.
She will want to have a party for me – please god no. I just want dinner with my husband at a cool place (and I guess she can come). She will also want tons of attention on Mother’s Day. Fuck me. I’m tired just thinking about it.

One good thing that happened – apparently she laughingly told everyone that I don’t like people. So, not too much was expected of me. She might have exaggerated, but I found myself wanting to live up to it and growl whenever anyone spoke to me. She looks at me and thinks I should have a huge group of friends like her. I look at her and shudder at all that non-stop social interaction. Hell no. I like a good female friend and a couple of couples we can hang with on occasion. I would be good with that. More than that is just…too much.

(I know, I have written about trying to find friends here in our new home. I still want to. This is just me after a weekend of forced socializing….fucking grumpy and wanting to be alone).

The photo is for me to relax. Chillax, woman. It is all goooooddddddd
13 Comments
Living in the country
Posted:Apr 11, 2017 1:27 pm
Last Updated:Apr 23, 2017 9:18 am
10341 Views
I took this photo last Friday. I was going to write a post about the excitement of living on a mountain/country-living. How the most exciting thing of the week was getting stuck behind a school bus, who was stuck behind 2 men chasing the neighborhood farm's miniature horse who got out. He led them on a merry chase for quite awhile. I was entertained. It reaffirmed for me that I love living here (for some strange reason).

But that was days ago.
The slave is on Spring Break.

Between the yard work we are loving (I have new shrubs!), trips to the gym, going downtown drinking, and sex/play time.....

we might just kill each other.

But we will go with smiles on our faces.
Big giant drooling smiles.
15 Comments

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