The Whore, The Lesbian, and the Bitch
They say there is only one of three things a woman can be in the ARMY: a whore, a lesbian, or a bitch. Doesnt give a girl much room, does it? Not that what youre labeled really matters. From time to time your title will change. One day youre the whore, the next the bitch. In the beginning I was actually the stuck-up bitch. In laymen terms that means I wasnt putting out. Well, I was, just very, very discreetly. Reputations in the ARMY are like cds, one scratch and youre f
Dear Kathy, October 5, 2043
There are a lot of things Ive tried to forgive myself for. And for those I cant forgive, I at least try to forget, like brushing memories under a rug.&
The Empire of Images in Our World of Bodies
The Disease of Self Hatred
It seems almost impossible to escape. Theres no safe haven from the images of slender, beautiful women who smile at us from the television, pout prettily from magazine pages or saunter seductively across the silver screen. The reality of these images are, however, that they are terribly distorted, severely unrealistic, and practically impossible to obtain. The body types of models and actresses made up only 2% of the American population, leaving the other 98% of us pining, wishing, and severely depressed that our bodies are not to
Give Me Something Good To Eat by rdostie, literature
Literature
Give Me Something Good To Eat
Give Me Something Good to Eat
She rubbed her cold hands together as she jogged to her car, her spiked heels making her wobble just slightly on the uneven pavement. She fumbled for her keys, icy fingers fumbling the loud ring as she sought for her car key. "Too cold…" she muttered but was secretly a little happy at the brisk autumn night. The beginning of October had been too warm and at last the crisp touch of fall had made its debut.
Her car gave a friendly chirp once she found the key and unlocked the doors and the dim light flooded the dark driveway. It seemed every other light on the quiet street was off and despite the full moon
Yes
She had the face that inspired both steamy nights and dark fantasies, complete with full sin-with-me lips and piercing stormy gray eyes. They were what I would normally call bedroom eyes, sultry and dark with black lining and thick lashes. Realistically she was the type of woman you took home for one night and spent the rest of your life dreaming about; not the type you took home to present to your mother. Not that this had anything to do with me, mind you. I wasn't going to be taking her home for the night and I was most certainly never going to introduce her to my mother.
She gracefully rose from the chair when I entered the o
All The Places In-between
I remember the night I met him as vividly as if it had only been hours ago, the memory etched into my mind as if it had been engraved into hard granite and locked behind steel doors, the foul remembrance able to be recalled on with every clear detail. It's odd how sweet memories are of laughs and smiles, gentle scents and the flittering of words scarcely evoked to the perfection of the moment. Yet a vile recollection is there for eternal time, all aroma, image, breath and words hovering in shadows with flawless accuracy, crouched to emerge in an inopportune instant to haunt the mind behind tormente
All The Places In-between
I remember the night I met him as vividly as if it had only been hours ago, the memory etched into my mind as if it had been engraved into hard granite and locked behind steel doors, the foul remembrance able to be recalled on with every clear detail. It's odd how sweet memories are of laughs and smiles, gentle scents and the flittering of words scarcely evoked to the perfection of the moment. Yet a vile recollection is there for eternal time, all aroma, image, breath and words hovering in shadows with flawless accuracy, crouched to emerge in an inopportune instant to haunt the mind behind tormente
Yes
She had the face that inspired both steamy nights and dark fantasies, complete with full sin-with-me lips and piercing stormy gray eyes. They were what I would normally call bedroom eyes, sultry and dark with black lining and thick lashes. Realistically she was the type of woman you took home for one night and spent the rest of your life dreaming about; not the type you took home to present to your mother. Not that this had anything to do with me, mind you. I wasn't going to be taking her home for the night and I was most certainly never going to introduce her to my mother.
She gracefully rose from the chair when I entered the o
Give Me Something Good To Eat by rdostie, literature
Literature
Give Me Something Good To Eat
Give Me Something Good to Eat
She rubbed her cold hands together as she jogged to her car, her spiked heels making her wobble just slightly on the uneven pavement. She fumbled for her keys, icy fingers fumbling the loud ring as she sought for her car key. "Too cold…" she muttered but was secretly a little happy at the brisk autumn night. The beginning of October had been too warm and at last the crisp touch of fall had made its debut.
Her car gave a friendly chirp once she found the key and unlocked the doors and the dim light flooded the dark driveway. It seemed every other light on the quiet street was off and despite the full moon
The Empire of Images in Our World of Bodies
The Disease of Self Hatred
It seems almost impossible to escape. Theres no safe haven from the images of slender, beautiful women who smile at us from the television, pout prettily from magazine pages or saunter seductively across the silver screen. The reality of these images are, however, that they are terribly distorted, severely unrealistic, and practically impossible to obtain. The body types of models and actresses made up only 2% of the American population, leaving the other 98% of us pining, wishing, and severely depressed that our bodies are not to
Dear Kathy, October 5, 2043
There are a lot of things Ive tried to forgive myself for. And for those I cant forgive, I at least try to forget, like brushing memories under a rug.&
The Whore, The Lesbian, and the Bitch
They say there is only one of three things a woman can be in the ARMY: a whore, a lesbian, or a bitch. Doesnt give a girl much room, does it? Not that what youre labeled really matters. From time to time your title will change. One day youre the whore, the next the bitch. In the beginning I was actually the stuck-up bitch. In laymen terms that means I wasnt putting out. Well, I was, just very, very discreetly. Reputations in the ARMY are like cds, one scratch and youre f