Sunday, April 28, 2013

Phony ass motherfuckers

Fuck YOU, and I'm busy, and who the fuck are YOU to fucking ask me all the questions about MY business when I'm not even sure I'm INVITING you, always talking about sexy buddy, and you and her can't even leave your STATE (your state of mind, your state of being, your financial state, NEW FUCKING JERSEY mother fuckers.) The party is MY case is anytime I wanna pick up a phone and invite twenty people to my fucking house, except with YOUUUUU fukkers, i gotta make it a SOCIAL EVENT.

ASSHOLES.

I got people who are DYING to hang out at the Legion HQ, but some of them JUST AREN'T cool enough to hang out with the grown folk. Get your shit right FIRST. Damn.

I don't have time to tell YOU a personal fucking BEDTIME story unless you are a V.I.P. I cannot stress this enough. Read my blog, look at my updates. It's all right there, fuckers. www.morganadarkgoddess.com so go look. There's shit you won't see on fucking FACEBOOK for sure. More coming if I can get HELP for the web show.

JEZUS.

"I'm too busy to CONVINCE your dumb ass. I already BELIEVE in myself, I sure don't need YOU to."


Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Show a little restraint? Not a problem.

This past twelve hours, I've been through a wide range of emotions. It's leaving me drained, but since I have something to talk about, here I am.



Yes, those are rope marks on my wrists, which after all I've been through are the most enjoyable part of my day.
Let's put it into perspective: A very close friend of mine KNOWS the one thing that gets my engines racing. This morning, however, he found a loophole which increases the amount of enjoyment I get from his company. This led to much happiness on my part, and an increased sense of power on his. All in all, a very enjoyable time.
So now, the house is quiet, and he is gone. I get to spend my time here with you, and it means a lot, even though you give me the silent treatment. I want to talk to you so badly it makes my heart ache sometimes. I want to know what you have to say. I want to hear of you have any advice or words of wisdom. I'll even take a request or two.

Since it's an hour past my official bedtime, I'm going to sneak around facebook, say goodnight to a few people, and go Netflix or meditate until I'm drowsy and relaxed enough to rest. - M












Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Darkgoddess Designs

I have levels of baked on resin goodness right now. It's awesome. Thanks to the King of Persia for giving me a Hookah! He actually gifted me a surprise! The King of Persia DOES spoil me so! (giggle... giggle)

(I always use awesome, because it's such a hippy word. I also say groovy, and I do it on purpose. It's part of the gag, right?)

I have shisha, which alone makes me smile and giggle more. It comes in flavors!!!! It's made with mole-asses! I try to stay away from sugar as a rule. I'm not diabetic, not do I want to be! I never smoked Shisha before, but my friend was RAVING about this shit. Ok, ok, I'm willing to try ANYTHING once. It's also part of the gag. (Sometimes the GAG is part of the gag, and then shit gets crazy. I have now ventured outside of my fucking comfort zone. HOW far will I go? Tune in next week.)

A pinch of a native american blend I like to smoke. Calea Zacatechichi, Motherwort, Mexican Tarragon, Wild Lettuce and some California Poppy. TADAAAAA!! Mix the together, and lay a TINY layer on top of the Shisha flavor of your choice, but I'm using raspberry right now.

A tiny pinch of your ultra favorite smoking herb. The over tone in any spell. The branch on the tree being the Native blend the trunk of the tree being THIS. JUST a dusting.

Then, a pinch of the native blend on top of that. Pack lightly to even and settle it. Pack it down far enough below the rim, the after the foil, you can STILL keep it from touching the foil itself.

A full brick on top. Make sure you stop sparking it completely. It's pretty, but the shit that makes them sparkle, is after all a toxic chemical. Blow until it is a layer of ash all over. Only then is the toxic chemical on the brick completely removed. Do not use the brick until then. That's what the ashtray on the hookah is FOR,.

D'uh. (eyeroll) Savages.

Now, we take this, and boil it down into the essence. We put it in a bottle, A dark one, because the perfume does expire. Just make more, we've given you the recipe! AND we make it a perfume spray, AND a lotion, AND a powder (especially a bath powder, wink wink). Is it suitable for men? I'm not sure, we haven't actually tested this on human males yet, but I feel it should be successful at chilling them out and giving them a mild intoxication for being in your presence.

That's basically what makes a woman unforgettable. A guy will smell the perfume you wore years from now and be reminded of everything he loved about you. This perfume will break a man's heart all over again. Be warned, use with caution. I don't wanna have to talk some guy off a ledge cause he fell in love with YOU again. You didn't even notice he was there. I gave him a shoulder to lean on and someone to talk to. Problem is, I don't like being taken for granted.

Blessed Be!

Sunday, April 7, 2013

The Most Important Thing I've Learned About Men


Men. I love them. 



They're weird and funny and seemingly deranged, but God help me, I just adore them. I like the big, overgrown muscle man to the 98 pound weakling. It doesn't matter the age, race or style, it's just something about the way they think that fascinates me. I hang out with them as much as I can, and my girlfriends have compared me to Jane Goodall, but they're missing the point. These same girlfriends have "man trouble", if they even have a man to start with. I don't have these issues, because, as I've been told by soooo many men, I "get" them. I couldn't really put just one thing that's the most important thing I've learned about men. I've learned so much about them and I want to share my knowledge with others, i.e., women who need to know. Consider it my public service to the world.



1. Men are incredibly romantic in their own way.

Back in the day, I used to hang out with a group of boys. I wasn't the group slut. That job title belonged to a friend of mine who was working her way through the group. I was the "cool girl", and I used to play D&D with them every weekend. (Chaotic Neutral Magic User, I could take out an army if need be.) One day, this new guy joined our group, and I developed a crush on him. I never thought that this blonde haired, green-eyed apprentice GOD could ever take a shine to me. I left it alone. Better to be a friend than a disgruntled lover. Again, this refers to my friend who ended up leaving the group without ever really knowing or loving them as I eventually did. One night, a movie came out that we all wanted to see, and even though I was considered "one of the guys", I still had the need to freshen my eyeliner and put on my lipstick before going out. I blotted the lipstick with a napkin, and tossed it casually into the wastepaper bin. A friend started talking to me about who's cars we were taking, some inane bullcrap, when in the mirror, off to the side, I saw my crush reach into the basket, pick up the napkin, fold it carefully and put it into his pocket. I made my move on him that night, and we were lovers as well as best friends for a very long time. Three years later, he went to pay for dinner one night, and I saw that he still had that napkin in his wallet, although I had never asked him about it.

2. Men fall in love with you before they even realize it.

If a man stands beside you during one of your worst times and doesn't go running off screaming into the night, he loves you. He may think he's only doing the right thing, the gentlemanly thing (see point 4) but he just hasn't realized that he loves you yet. He sneaks looks at you, not just at the GOOD parts but actual meaningful looks. A girlish giggle from you makes his eyes roll back in his head and take a breath. The sad, puppy dog eyes look always works. He laughs at all your stupid jokes. He asks you what you're thinking. He brings you little trinkets just because he was thinking of you at the time. Yeah, he loves you. Maybe he hasn't realized it yet, but he does. Imagine the shock it's gonna be to his system when he realizes that his life is better than it ever was just because you're in it. The look on his face when he realizes that it wouldn't be worth going on without you. Be kind to them. They build these walls so high and so deep inside themselves that they don't even realize they're already in love. Might as well shut the barn door, the horses have bolted about three weeks ago.

3. Men are incredibly simple, if you speak their language.

Men want what they want. They're creatures of instant gratification and women need to accept that. However, men can easily be trained to do what you need them to do if you (and pay attention here) WORK with them. God knows they're simple, and not as devious and complex as we women are. You have to treat them like a special needs child sometimes, but this works as long as it's not too obvious. Take Sunday's football game for example. Let him watch it with his buddies. They must bond in this way. They are pack animals, and since they're not running through the wild taking down a gazelle, at least I HOPE they're not, then they need a new bonding ritual: sports. However, during halftime, or perhaps during a bathroom break, you stop him and tell him, "Half an hour after the game, I'm going to need you very..." (pause here) "verrrrryyyyy..." (pause again while looking up shyly at him. You can do this ladies, I promise. Pretend you're in a romance novel.) "BADLY!" Then... and this is the part that's going to wind up making him lose his mind... wink at him. After the game, he's going to kick his noisy friends out of the house, and while you're doing some other chore, say... "If you can help me by cleaning up the living room while I do THIS, we can get to the bedroom faster." And then SMILE at him. He will clean like a demon and be in the bed waiting for you, ready to go. Now, ladies, do not punk out here. Give him some. This is called positive reinforcement and it works.

4. Men want us to be a virgin/whore, but they want to be a boy scout/bad ass.

Somehow, even in today's society, a man will want his woman to be a "lady in the streets and a freak in the bed". Today's women are up for the challenge, but getting down to the very core of a man, you'll find this one fact to be true. Every man considers himself to be a boy scout, a cavalier, a paladin, or even Captain Friggin America. He's the guy that holds the door open for you to pass through. Carries your bags. Walks on the outside of the street (some men don't even know WHY they do this, it's just what they were taught). Here now, lies the conundrum that is man. He also wants to be seen as a tough guy. This is the man who upon hearing a noise in the middle of the night, will grab a bat from under the bed and investigate (see also point 5). He visualizes himself telling his prick boss where he can put that tightly-folded-into-many-sharp-points work order, report or other paperwork. In his mind, he stands for truth, justice and the AMERICAN way, but will also punch a hole right through another man's chest for messing with his property. Mentally anyway. Unless he's Chuck Norris.

5. Boys are like dragons. Men are worse.

If a man loves you (see point 2), then much like a dragon, he'll want to protect what he considers HIS TREASURE. A dragon will bite, snap, breathe fire at anyone trying to come close to it. So will a man, in essence. We've all seen it. When a dragon sleeps, it makes a nice tidy pile, climbs on top and there it rests it's fiery head. A man will do the same. If you find your man wanting to sleep over, not even for sex mind you, but just to sleep, consider yourself personal property of a full grown, adult male human dragon. However, a man that will not protect you from:
a) the advances of other men,
b) mice, water-bugs, muggers, his asshole friends, and especially
c) his bitchy mother... ? Don't even bother. You're not his treasure, and you never will be.

I've been trying to think of the ONE MOST IMPORTANT THING that I've learned about men over these many (no, I'm not telling) years. They're not perfect. They're messy and smelly and sweaty. They spit, scratch and will embarrass the hell out of you. I think the most important thing that I've learned might be how much I love them. For who they are. For what they can do. For being themselves without apology or regret. For being able to pee standing up! Most importantly, for how they are able to love us crazy, witchy, bitchy women they way that they do. For that, I'll always be grateful.

Saturday, April 6, 2013

Part blog post, part nude pic. Always a fan favorite though!

My blog posts aren't about "I'm fat and I'm proud" or filled with incidences of "This person said some horrible thing about me being fat". It just really doesn't happen to me. I think some ghetto heffa tried making a comment about a year ago, and I laughed, handed her my business card and said, "Google me". 

I get more hate on Facebook than I ever get in Real Life, and that's more about being a "whore" than anything else. That also makes me laugh. Those are usually from people (a total of three, lol) that jump to a bunch of conclusions about my life. They never met me, they mean nothing to me, so they don't really mean all that much to me.

People that know me on Facebook (and like me) have called me other things. I'm not sure they're always right, but maybe they see me better than I see myself. People that know me in Real Life always seem to comment on the way being around me makes them feel. The consensus seems to be relaxed, even mildly intoxicated. Definitely at ease. Those comments mean the most to me, because I've reached them and set them at a vibration level (much lower, and more powerful) than they usually move to.

So, I blog. I enjoy it. I want you to know me the way my Real Life people do. I'm sexual and sensual and funny. I have a brain. I'm great at spatial relations. I love many things from Quantum Physics to black jellybeans. I love Digital Photomanipulation and I'm teaching myself that. I like the science in baking cupcakes and the fun in Social Psychology. I can be a blessing and a curse, but ultimately a very good person to know. Feel free to join me anytime. - MDG

Friday, April 5, 2013

So just as I was getting ready for some "alone" time... I got an inbox.

I love porn. I truly do.

There are some nights, much like tonight, when I take my browser to the weird side of the internet. I'll start out by watching Hentai. That alien, tentacle shit really gets my juices flowing. After that, some hardcore anal. If I can watch a BBW getting a really good POUNDING, I'm ready to take my laptop to the bed and start working myself into a frenzy. Tonight was one of those nights, and as I was wondering whether to try and sneak into the bedroom to get my toys...

Brrrring!

Ok, I'll admit. Sometimes that's not my favorite sound. Usually it's some dope that wants to waste my time with chit chat and asking me to send him nude pictures. Holy fuck, go to the fucking website, man. I don't have time for your foolishness. Say the frigging words, love, marry, country, camel, engineer - you can pretty much count me the hell out of this convo. You wanna fuck? Let's see what you got, but it's gonna be right here in New York with my security agent close enough to end things real quick if you get out of line.

Brrrring!

UGH!!!!

I go to look at who it is, and it's SUNSHINE.

SUNSHINE? HOLY SHIT!

Now I'm in a great mood, because I do like chatting with her, but my horniness levels have just shot through the roof. I mean for fucks sake just LOOK at this woman!


RAWR, right?

This story goes wayyyy the hell back to the first time I saw her picture. THIS is the woman I'd like to get FUCKED by more than anyone else on the planet. I have very elaborate fantasies about this chick, just sayin'. The fact that she's a sweetheart turns me the hell on too.

So... (digression, sigh) she's asking me if I'd like to do a guest shoot on her page. For those of you that don't know, it's an honor to be asked by someone to be a part of their website. It's a compliment. And it's also a sign that the person is secure enough to be able to take on a few pictures without getting butthurt or jealous.

Between you and I? Not all these girls can.

We start talking business - How many? How dirty? I could send stuff I've already done, but I'd rather do a whole new set just for her page. (To see THOSE, you'll have to visit her when the updates go up. I'll let you know.) My only problem here is that every time I talk to her, she likes to torture me by sending me pics. She knows damn well they turn me on, I'm honest enough to tell her, but she does it anyway. She's a sweetheart with a real twisted side of evil running right through the heart of her.


Now I have to come up with something that's going to get her mercenary little heart racing for me. Something that's going to get those 6X panties wet and get her shifting in her seat. I already have some ideas, which in turn is making me hotter yet. Maybe this was her intention in the first place. Maybe she just thought. "Hey, Morgana's usually up for a great time. Let me talk to her!" Who knows? WHO CARES?

IT'S ON!

Stay tuned to my blog of course to find out when the pictures will be appearing on her web site. As for me, I can't wait to send them in and see what she has to say about it.

My heart's pretty mercenary too, y'know.

- Morgana D.