And so it goes

Hello, everyone. Sorry for the absence.

After much thought, going back and forth, changing my mind and then back again, I have decided it’s time to bring this blog to an end.

I have been in the spanking scene for twenty-one years this month, and online for nineteen. I have watched many changes in what became known as social media. In the early days for spanking chat and exploration, there were what was known as newsgroups, and various chat rooms. Often the latter devolved into a bunch of silly cyber spanking, but one could find intelligent conversation if one looked carefully. Then, around 2000, give or take a year, those gave way to chat forums, such as those on MSN and Yahoo, the old Shadow Lane chat board, etc. People posted and chatted and shared and connected. I co-managed a successful forum for a few years and had a blast.

When the forums began to run their course, they were overtaken by a new phenomenon: the spanking blog. Soon, everyone and their second cousin twice removed was blogging. I joined this bandwagon in 2005, on what used to be the hopping place (!): MySpace. My blog there straggled along for a while, trying to find its audience, but there was so much competition. But then two things happened. One, I was listed by our blog queen, Bonnie, who made a point of spotlighting new blogs in her “In With the New” column. Things really picked up for me after that, but I still had a second holy grail to achieve. The buzz in the blogosphere was about a gentleman who went by the name of Chross, who had a weekly list of what he considered the most notable blog posts. If one was lucky enough to be “Chrossed,” they would be treated to a highly gratifying spike in blog hits. But how did one get on Chross’s radar, I wondered? I finally grew so frustrated that I wrote a post called “Who Do I Have to @#$% to Get on Chross’s List?” Apparently, that got his attention. 🙂

After that, wow. Views, comments, etc. skyrocketed. Until MySpace died, and I took the plunge and started a new blog on Blogger in 2010. I flourished there for years, getting Chrossed often, sharing adventures and party stories and photos and scenes and video shoots, as well as bits and pieces of my personal life. When Blogger threatened to censor or shut down all their “adult” blogs, I migrated to WordPress. Turns out it wasn’t necessary, since Blogger backed off, but I don’t regret it.

However, things changed yet again. Slowly but surely, the spanking blog was overtaken by the Tumblr blogs: pictures. Lots and lots and lots of pictures. The lengthy blog entry morphed into quickie sound bites, gifs and jpegs. Comments became likes and reposts. The spanking models, who all used to blog, now opened Tumblr accounts. Twitter came to be, and now, instead of writing party and shoot reports, people tweeted the action as it was happening. There were some exceptions who maintained their popularity (Hermione and Ronnie come to mind, as well as some of the DD/Hoh blogs and some author blogs) but it seemed that overall, the traditional written spanking blog had gone the way of the VCR and the variety show.

Even so, I figured as long as I had stories to tell, experiences to share, connections to make, I’d have an audience. For quite a while, my views remained high thanks to being Chrossed often. But now, it seems even our beloved Chross has given up the ghost. And the annual Spanking Blogg Awards, put together by John Osborne of Triple A, finally eliminated the Best Creative Blogger category last year because it wasn’t getting any nominations. I was lucky enough to win second place in 2015, that award’s final year.

After many years and thousand of words, kids, I’m fresh out of things to say. On topic, anyway. I don’t want to hash and rehash the same discussions; there’s FetLife for that. Scene-wise, things have changed for me. I no longer have a top, and I haven’t played since 50 Freaks in February. I go to two parties a year. I do not shoot anymore, and even if someone were to offer it up, I’m not sure I would do it. I don’t enjoy looking at myself on film anymore — those HD cameras are not kind! And as for my personal life, I have been dealing with a great deal of grief and challenges over the past few months, including an ongoing situation with John that is stressful and scary. But you know, I don’t want to go into that on here anymore either. I have ranted, raved, wept, opened up and laid myself bare (physically and emotionally) in these posts over the years. I think it’s time for that to end. Everyone has problems; they don’t want to hear mine. And if I can’t post on-topic fun stuff, there’s really no point in continuing.

Also, I made the mistake, in a time of weakness, of writing political posts on here. Please. Can we all agree that there’s enough of that shit out there everywhere you look? I mean, really — using a spanking blog, of all things, to push one’s political agenda is arrogant, self-serving and a big waste of time, don’t you think? So I do apologize for that bit of foolishness.

I am not taking this blog down. I want to preserve it, because I’m proud of it. I would like people to be able to refer back to it, reread posts they liked, enjoy the pictures, etc. My life, my heart and my soul are in these pages. So it will remain intact, even though I won’t be adding to it any longer. I will always be grateful for my readers, all the comments, all the feedback. Without you guys, we writers might as well be talking to ourselves. And hey, I even appreciate those hapless dumbasses who gave me so much wonderful CHoS fodder. One more for the road? Sure, why not…

Hi I would like to spanking you hardly but it is turning me on and in the end which will be not short time I would like to have sex or atleast blowjob becouse I don’t want go away horny and I don’t want jerkoffing if you are okay with that or you have some other way to make e come and relax after when I spanking you hard and long tell me

(sigh) Some things never change, I guess. I suggest you come the way you always do — in your mama’s basement in front of your sticky keyboard. And for the last time, fuck off.

I don’t get as much of this nonsense nowadays, but I still see it. Recently, Alex got a critique on her Tumblr that she is neglecting to post pictures of her anus. She’s nicer than I am: I would have replied that if this person wants to see an asshole, they should look in a mirror.

Some of you have my antiquated (but still functional) AOL address. My gmail address is at the end of the About Me section here. I’m still out there, on Facebook, Twitter and FetLife. I have always welcomed polite and civil correspondence (and no, you do not have to agree with me, just don’t be a dick about it), and that will not change.

So what should be my last gasp? Perhaps I’ll just say screw it and reveal all… my real name, my family, the TV shows they worked on…

…

…

…

wait for it…

…

…

…

ready?

…

…

…

Come on, you didn’t really think I’d tell all that, did ya? Besides, I wanted to go out on a Big Bang. 😛

And so this hard-edged, tender-hearted, snarky spanko bids you farewell, in this venue at least. Have a great life, y’all. ♥ ♥ ♥  Thank you for reading.

The State of Erica

So it’s been an interesting few weeks, ones of much soul searching and roller coaster emotions. I’ve learned a few things, made some mistakes. And now I think I’m ready to move forward once again.

One of the mistakes I made was breaking my own promise to myself and allowing politics to pervade my blog, Twitter and Facebook. The events of the past few months have consumed me, as they have many, and I let myself get swept up in venting. The reactions were enlightening and depressing at the same time. I got a lot of backlash, but not necessarily from the opposite polarity. I also was ignored, unfollowed and unfriended by people I least expected to do so. In times of emotional crisis, I find out time and again who cares about Erica, the entire person (even in her darkest, angriest, most unlikable times), and who just wants Erica Scott, the witty, snarky spanko showing off her butt. I find out who my friends are. It’s a painful process, but a necessary one, I guess.

Look, I get it. This is a spanking blog. Politics can be read anywhere, anytime, any place these days, ad nauseam. When one comes to a spanking blog, one wants to read about spanking, yes? Same deal with followers on Twitter and other social media. Therefore, for the bulk of my venting, I have found two secret groups of Facebook (“secret” meaning that posts only show to the group members) where people can share their political concerns and fears. Likewise, I started another Twitter account and when I feel like retweeting the Orange Menace’s stupid posts and adding my own comments, or just want to rant about whatever’s going on, I use that. And as for here, I will not be posting anymore strictly political posts. They get crickets, for one, and then I have to put up with rude rebuttals from the likes of people who are so stupid, they need to be told how to spell their own name. So, it’s back to spanky stuff.

There’s just one problem with that; lately, I simply don’t have spanky stuff to post. I am not going to explain why, so please don’t ask, but I have not played (except for a brief moment at a holiday party) in over three months. My parties are few and far between, and my shoots are pretty much down to once in a great while. And I’m tired of hashing and rehashing the same tired discussions we’ve all seen a million times. Therefore, this blog will probably be periodic rather than regular. When the spirit moves me, when I have something fun and topical to report, I will do so. For example, in a couple of weeks we’re going to a big party in Vegas for a few days, so no doubt I’ll have some fun stories from that. But I’m no longer going to rack my brain trying to come up with things to write. I’ve written and written and written, for years. And lately, I’m (thankfully) so busy with work, I don’t have as much time for blogging anyway. So, when time passes between blogs, don’t fret. I’m still around. I’m just going to be here on a “need to post” basis from now on.

Oh, and mind you, I am not saying that I’ll never slip in some political snarky humor again, here and there. I mean, it’s inevitable, since this entire administration is one big punchline.

And with that, on to my most excellent segue*…

Last week, Triple A Spanking released a clip that I shot with them three years ago. In it, John Osborne and I play husband and wife, and we are supposed to go to a gathering given by one of his friends. However, because I cannot stomach this friend, I make up a bunch of lies, including that I’m sick, to get out of going. So, what did John call this film about lying liars?

Yup, he went there… 😀

(Yes, I edited that last photo. I hate those freaking straight-on shots! Unless you’re a proctologist, you don’t need to be getting up in there.)

I confess, seeing that title made me laugh harder than I had in weeks. So, who used that phrase better? John Osborne…

… or Crack-Whore Barbie Con-job?

I’d say John Osborne for the win!

So that’s it for now. Back to work with me, and then I’m off to spend the pre-Valentine’s Day weekend with my beloved. ♥ And no, we are not going to see “Fifty Shades Darker”!

Have a great weekend. y’all.

*For those who were educated at Cheeto-face University, that word is pronounced “seg-way,” not “seg-yoo.” 😛

What’s in a name?

Actually, quite a bit, if we’re talking about choices for scene/kink monikers. What prompted this? This week, I saw two of them that were such a turn-off, I wouldn’t even bother checking out the person behind them.

I’ve said before that I keep my profiles on the various kink sites, because I never know who’s out there and it never hurts to know more locals. I have many friends with whom I share TTWD, but so many of them are far away. One of said sites will sometimes email a notice to me if their algorithm somehow concludes that a potential match is brewing. So this week, I received this:

“Hey, Erica Scott! Have you met DrSausage? He’s ready to meet you!”

spraying coffee all over the screen  Dr. Sausage??? How does one get a doctorate in sausageology? Does the PhD stand for Perky Hard Dick?

When I tweeted about this, one of my friends cleverly replied, “But… he’s a doctor!” Which made me laugh. Suddenly, I was taken back over 30 years and remembering my mother, who had a dreadful habit of trying to fix me up. She’d attempted it many times, but her most egregious effort came one day when she called me and said I was going to be mad. I listened, feeling my blood pressure spike into emergency levels, while she told me about how she’d been at the beauty parlor that day and had struck up a conversation with a woman sitting next to her at the dryers. Turns out said woman had a single son. All my mother needed to hear was “single,” “Jewish,” and “doctor” — she didn’t even need a photo or any further description.

That’s right. She gave my phone number to this woman, who she’d known for about ten minutes. To give to her son, who she didn’t know at all.

I exploded. “How could you DO that?? You don’t know this woman! You don’t know her son! You don’t know anything about him — and you give my phone number to perfect strangers? And what kind of a man needs his mother to fix him up with unseen women?”

Her defense? “She seemed nice. And how bad could he be — he’s a doctor!”

Oy vey.

Yes, the guy called me, and I met him for coffee. Turned out he was cute, charming, funny and sexy, and we dated for a few years. And if you believe that, please allow me to sell you some magic beans.

Part of me was tempted to write to DrSausage and say, “Here I am, oh meaty one! Come and do your wurst!” But I decided against it.

And then, same week, I get, “Erica Scott, someone just checked you out!” I looked to see who it was.

GrannyLover.

Just shoot me now. No, wait. Shoot HIM. Yeah, I get it. He likes older women. But there needs to be a little finesse here.

News flash, pal. I don’t usually presume to speak for all women, but I’m making an exception here. There isn’t a woman on this entire f&#%ing planet who would find it a compliment, within a sexual and/or kink realm, to be referred to as “Granny.” “Mommy,” yes. I can certainly see that, even though it’s not my thing. But “Granny”? NO. What’s she going to do, bake you cookies until you beg for mercy? Knit you some ankle restraints?

I wanted to write to GrannyLover and attach a charming picture I found of a prim and proper white-haired grandma flipping the bird. But I decided against that as well.

Just another week in the life of a spanko. Have a great weekend, y’all.

Correspondence Hall of Shame, End of Year Edition, and more

Greetings, readers. As this will be my last post of 2016, I thought I’d present a hodgepodge of treats for you. So grab a beverage of your choice, whack off a chunk of that stale fruitcake with a hacksaw, and settle in.

First up, a few CHoS entries:

Mmmmmmm
I swear this sounds lile so fucking fun and a turn on
Lolol love it when a women love other thing beside sex 
You do have a sexy ass that should always be SMACK!! Good when that se,y booty is out

Uh… what? I’m sorry, I’m not bilingual; I don’t speak Moronese.

hi cutie, my name is Xxx and we have the same sexual interests.. I enjoy passionate kissing, foreplay, oral sex, anal sex, FWB, LTR, BDSM, role playing and doing anything to please you. I would love to explore every inch of your body with my hands and tongue. I like hard and fast sex, but prefer marathon all night sex.. I may be older than what you are looking for, but age is just a number and PLEASURE, weather it comes from yourself, someone younger, or older, is still PLEASURE. I am always horny and available. If this is what you are looking for, check my profile to see if we match and message me back

I don’t know whose profile you were reading, but it wasn’t mine, since mine said I wasn’t seeking sex. Yes, age is just a number, and so is IQ. Yours, apparently, is in the double digits.

You may have seen this comment before, since it was left right here on this blog. I thought it deserves its own special message. What a shame this person thinks they’re so clever.

I bet you only get spanked on the left side of your ass

Wrong again, Breitbart Breath, as is evidenced by this recent photo:

And finally, to my special hater out there: Really? You think my last blog was all about little ol’ you? Tsk… now who’s vain, hmmm? My upbringing in the “entertainment world” had nothing to do with my political views — I am a well-educated woman and I have a mind of my own — so you may can the condescending claptrap. But hey, thanks for saying I have a pretty face. I do believe that’s the first time in all these years that you’ve ever said anything nice about me. 🙂

Interesting side note: Someone very close to me — who is a conservative and voted for Trump — read my last blog. He could have been pissy about it, but all he had to say about it was that it’s a funny and satirical piece, and some of the best writing he’s seen from me. How about that. I thanked him for his civility, and he said, “I’m the norm. The people who act like a-holes are the exception.” I’m afraid I disagree with that; I think it’s the other way around. But we’ll see.

Moving on — did you guys miss my annual sniping about fruitcake? Then this is for you. Our ever-trendy coffeehouse, Starbucks, unveiled a Christmas treat this year, available for one week only: the Fruitcake Frappuccino. It was described as a blended iced coffee drink with hazelnut and cinnamon, topped by whipped cream, caramel and matcha (whatever the @#$% that is). What’s fruitcake-y about this, you might ask? Well, also blended into the beverage are bits of dried fruit. That’s right, so you can eat your Frappuccino as well as drink it. It’s creamy! It’s chunky! It’s chewy! It’s disgusting!

And if you’re not already sick, here is a real view of it:

I’m sorry, but this doesn’t resemble anything drinkable to me. It looks like the inside of a Times Square toilet on New Year’s Eve.

Did everyone have a nice holiday? Mine had some pleasant moments, although I was struggling a bit. Earlier this month, Alex and Paul had a lovely little party, and I did my best to get into the spirit, dressing myself up, complete with black stockings that had red bows at the top, red pumps, and a black shirt that had “Naughty” on the front and “Nice” on the back. Last week, Alex, SC and I had a long-overdue girls’ night out, where we chatted for hours and exchanged presents. I got some nice things, including a beautiful, soft and plush robe from Alex, and SC gave me a Lego set… to build the Yellow Submarine! I haven’t played with Legos since I was a kid; this should be fun. But I think my favorite gift was one that came as a surprise in the mail: it was from Lily Starr, and when I opened it, I smiled, then giggled, then guffawed. It was a crystal pendant… of a snowflake.

I think this might have been the beginning of a turnaround for me. I felt my humor, long dormant, kick back in a bit. And my feistiness. Damn right I’m a snowflake, and I’ll accept that term, meant to be insulting, with pride. In fact, Lily’s gift inspired me to shoot this little video. 🙂 Screw with me, and I’m screwing right back. I may go down in a nuclear holocaust in the coming year or so, but I’m going down laughing.

* * *

Now, if I can be serious for a moment. This has been a brutal year. No, not just because of the obvious, but for so many other miseries befalling people I care about. Job losses, illnesses, broken relationships, getting outed. Deaths… so many deaths. John lost his own closest friend last month, and we are still reeling from that. And this was a terrible year for our beloved icons, with an unbelievable count of losses. Actors. Musicians. Authors. Sports figures. Astronauts. Just this week, we lost Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds, one day apart. Reportedly, Ms. Reynolds’ last words were “I want to be with Carrie” before she had a massive stroke. I guess it is possible to die of a broken heart. My own heart breaks for Todd Fisher, who lost both his sister and mother within 24 hours, and for Billie Lourd, who lost her mother and grandmother. Sometimes life is very cruel.

If you have never seen Singin’ In The Rain, I am telling you to do so. Even if you say you don’t like musicals, see it anyway. It is so much more than song and dance, although those numbers are dazzling, and it’s impressive to watch a 19-year-old Debbie Reynolds, who’d never danced professionally before, holding her own with two of the best dancers of the 20th century. It’s funny, clever, energetic, romantic, and if it doesn’t put a smile on your face and lift your spirits, you might want to check for a pulse.

What’s my point? Life is short. Hold your loved ones close. Hang in there, and do the best you can. I say this as much to myself as I do to my friends. I’m going to put on my rain gear and boots, and plow bravely forward into the crapstorm that 2017 is looking to be, determined to have fun and experience love and joy where I can. May you all do the same.

Have a great weekend, y’all. ♥

A bit of Friday humor and distraction

Taking a quick work break to share a little search word silliness. I don’t have a lot this time, but one of them was so off the wall, I couldn’t wait.

desi wife mirro spanking land

What the ever loving… Luuuuucyyyyyyy!! ‘Splain! I’m assuming “mirro” was supposed to be “mirror.” Unless they’re talking about that wonderful British actress, Helen Mirro.

And my other favorite:

erica spanked by steve scott

LOL! Several people on FetLife refer to John as “John Scott.” So now Steve is “Steve Scott”? Not very toppy, is it. 😀 Particularly amusing when you recall that Scott isn’t even my real name.

In other news… drama and stress with John continues. He’s having a rough time of it lately; not just work, but last week he got rear-ended on the freeway (no one was hurt, fortunately, but it was a three-car pile-up, with his car in the front). And all his work stress is affecting his teeth, which are costing a fortune in repair. Poor thing is having a root canal today as I type. (sigh) But on the good news side, my stepmother had her second surgery and compared to the first one, this was a breeze and she was home the next day. I will be going to visit her soon. Oh, and yesterday, I lost my prescription sunglasses, couldn’t find them anywhere, and had resigned myself to having to replace them (just bought them this year and they were $250). But then last night, I found them in my car, underneath the driver’s seat. I don’t know how they got there, but I was so relieved. I am very precise about where I put things, so I don’t lose stuff as a rule. When I do, I start wondering if I’m losing my mind. You know, genetics and all that.

Someone asked me if I would be spanked for carelessness, misplacing my sunglasses. I guess that’s how some spanking folks would handle it. Me? I punish myself enough, feeling stupid and upset and wondering if I’m dealing with early senility. John, rather than threatening to spank me, offered to pay for new glasses. I do love that man. ♥

There needs to be a spanking party, or something like that. Fun is needed. Some wild abandon and forgetting about all the shit going on is needed. I’ve had a bit too much life lately.

So, here’s a picture of a hot couple, Jonny and Stacy Stockton, pre-spanking. Because yum.

Have a great weekend, y’all.

OT: May I vent, just a little?

Don’t worry. I’m not going to talk about politics, or about terrorism, or about guns. Although the circumstances of late have got me on edge and are making my tolerance a lot lower for life’s little aggravations. So if y’all don’t mind, I need to blow off a little steam here, over my First World Problems.

My mother passed away in 2012, and my stepfather in 2014. Here it is the middle of 2016, and would you believe all the details of their trust still aren’t fully resolved?? I won’t bore you with who’s who and what’s what, but let’s just say certain people haven’t been cooperating. Not responding to requests, not communicating, not providing what’s needed. And so, things drag on and on and on. Why do people have to be so damn difficult? I have my crazy stepsister’s all-caps emails and one of her drunken rants saved on my voice mail. What a piece of work. She got more money than anyone else in the will, and she’s still complaining. In her last message, she slurred, “I wish Dad were here so I could shake some sense into him.” Really? THAT’S why you want your dad here? Ick. I wish she didn’t have my address and phone number. Thank goodness for caller ID.

Also, remember at the end of last year when I had a root canal and a crown restoration? Guess how much of that my dental insurance covered? Zero. WTF is the point of having dental insurance if they don’t pay for anything? Oh yeah, they cover cleanings and x-rays. Big whoop. But as soon as you need anything besides that, they deny you. I spent a fair amount of time online researching the racket that is dental insurance, and discovered that unless I pay a fortune, I’m not getting any decent coverage. If your dental insurance is covered by your office group plan, give thanks. Because an individual paying for their own plan is screwed. Soooooo… I am now trying something different: A dental discount plan. You pay a small annual fee, and then all your dental procedures are discounted. Not free, mind you. They’re still expensive. Just not as expensive. For example, the root canal that cost me $1300 would have cost $700. I spent about forty-five minutes on the phone with an agent today who explained it all to me. The good news? No waiting period. I’m on the plan immediately. More good news? My dentist and endodontist accept the plan. So now, if my teeth continue to fall apart, at least I won’t go broke as quickly. The plan is Aetna, so at least it’s not some Joe Blow dental plan that will get bought out before I get to use it.

But what a headache. This, on top of paying over $800 a month for medical insurance. This is the downside of self-employment. Still… I wouldn’t have it any other way. Everything comes with a price.

And finally — those of you who have been with me for a while, or who read my book, know that I had the Stepmother From Hell, my father’s third wife. When he finally wised up and unloaded her, he stayed close with her son, B, who is about eight years younger than I am. When Dad passed away, B came to help me with packing up his place, and he came to Dad’s memorial. He was a decent kid, nothing like his mother. After that, we kind of fell out of touch. I knew he had married and had a couple of kids (I got the Christmas cards and the erstwhile email), but we didn’t communicate otherwise. This week, clear out of the blue, I got email from him. Said he’s been through some “crazy life changes” and would love to get together to catch up. Coffee? Sure, I said. We agreed for this Thursday. This morning, he wrote again, asking if we could do lunch instead. Said he had to do something for his son later that afternoon, and that “wouldn’t leave sufficient time for his long-lost sister.”

I know he meant that in the nicest possible way. I know I should be flattered that he thinks of me that way. But I couldn’t help it; I felt creeped out. “I’m not your sister,” I thought. “I had a brother. You aren’t him. And I don’t share any of that bat-shit crazy woman’s blood with you.” Am I horrible? I don’t mean to be this way, but you have to understand — his mother made my life hell for years. I know it’s not his fault, but seeing him, hearing from him, reminds me of her and I feel almost sort of a PTSD. I mean, to this day I still can’t stand to hear the c-word, because she called me that all the time.

And what does he want, anyway, after all these years? What are these crazy life changes? Divorce? Am I a terrible person for wondering if he needs money for some reason? Ugh. Between John’s family and mine, I’ve known way too many truly crappy people. I am suspicious, and I don’t like being that way.

So yeah. I’m meeting B for lunch on Thursday. I am curious. And my dad was very fond of him. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to meet up and hear him out. I’ll just have to brace myself to hear about his mother. Maybe the witch is dead. Ding dong! Oh, please. Trust me, B has no illusions about Mommie Dearest. Years ago, when his first child was born, he said something along the lines of “I don’t want her [his mother] to come anywhere near him.” I think she’d be somewhere in her late seventies now.

Oy. I need to get my spank on. Soon. And I am way overdue for a Girls’ Night Out. I am hoping that both will happen next week. Meanwhile, this week I will stay busy with work and do my best to maintain some semblance of sanity in a world of chaos.

If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs and blaming it on you…