Words Of Wisdom – Man Up

I read allot a blogs every day of the week, I have a few, counting them on a single hand, favorite blogs that I read, unfortunately the one I would like to re-blog more uses the blogspot format, so re-blogging means copying then pasting the post with linkage to the original post. Which is what I must do today. However, its well worth the effort and I hope you appreciate it as much as I do. Now, I recommend you visit The Bearded Backyarder regularly, in fact go to today after reading this example post from my friend Stacks’ blog. He, with a select few, have a permanent link on the right of my blog, he’s well worth the look. Y’all won’t be disappointed with this fellow Texan! Now, here’s that post. Got your own fatherly wisdom? Leave them in the comments. Don’t forget to go pay Stacks a good visit!

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Words Of Wisdom – Man Up

Your father probably told you a few things, but just in case, here are some words of wisdom you might have missed out on. If I missed some, please comment and remind me. Young men need to hear these little gems from time to time. It is mission critical that they do. This day and age, young men are running low on mentors. Be that missing mentor if the need arises. Man up man.

Buy high quality tools, so you only have to buy them once.

Keep a change of clothes at the office.

Never hit anyone unless they are an immediate threat.

Every hat should serve a purpose.

Smelling good is feeling good. Feeling good is everything good. 

Never take her to the movies on the first date.

Learn to wet shave. If you do not shave, keep yourself groomed and neat.

Drink strong coffee. Hot tea is for old ladies. 

Nothing looks more bad ass than a man in a well tailored suit.

Shave with the grain on the first go-around.

Always look a person in the eye when you speak to them.

Buy a plunger before you need a plunger.

Exercise and firearms make you happy. Go run, go lift, go bang, go play sports.

Brush your teeth before you put on your tie.

A small amount of your paycheck should go directly to your savings account every month.

There’s nothing wrong with having some “you money” stashed away.

Call mom and dad every week.

Never wear a clip-on tie.

Give a firm handshake.

Compliment her shoes or hair.

Never leave a beer unfinished.

If you aren’t confident, fake it. It will come around.

You can tell the size of a man by the size of things that bother him.

Be conscious of your body language.

The only reason to point a gun at someone is if you intend to shoot them. Period.

Never lend anything you can’t afford to lose.

Ask more than you answer. Everybody likes to talk about themselves.

Never have sex with anyone that doesn’t want it as much as you.

Go for women out of your league. You may end up surprised.

Manliness is not only being able to take care of you, but others as well.

Go with the decision that will make for a good story.

When you walk, look straight ahead, and not at your feet.

Nice guys don’t finish last, boring guys do.

Find your passion and figure out how to get paid for it.

Don’t let the little head do the thinking for the big head.

No matter their job or status, everyone deserves your respect. (I call bullshit; no one deserves respect until they EARN it.) 

The first one to get angry loses.

A man does what needs to be done without complaining. 

Never stop learning.

Always go out in public dressed like you’re about to meet the love of your life.

Never change yourself just to make someone happy.

If you’re the smartest person in the room, you’re in the wrong room.

Luck favors the prepared.

Women find confidence sexy as hell.

Do whatever you want to do, but try to be the absolute best at it.

No one on their deathbed wishes they had spent more time at work.

Learn how to shine shoes. Never show up looking like you kicked a Hershey Bar. 

Never shoot a large caliber man with a small caliber bullet.

Wisdom comes from mainly getting older.

Men should read the words and deeds of great men of the past, especially fathers.

Be a man of self-control, self-denial, patience, humility, and have a principled approach to everything.

It’s easier to make your wishes conform to your means, than to make your means conform to your wishes.

Do not wife hunt in bars and tattoo parlors.

Meddle or interfere with nothing in which you have no concern.

Be willing to admit your mistakes and take blame.

Private and public life are subject to the same rules; and truth and manliness are two qualities that will carry you through this world much better than policy, or tact, or expediency, or any other word that was ever devised to conceal or mystify a deviation from a straight line.

A man should always say what he means and mean what he says.

A man may manifest and communicate his joy to the world, but he should conceal and smother his grief as much as possible.

Read history books, works of truth, and not novels and romances.

Never marry unless you can do so into a family that will enable your children to feel proud of both sides of the house.

Since your father will always be older than you, he will always be wiser.

Few things are more rewarding than blisters on your hands and a paycheck in the bank.

Don’t be afraid to stand alone; living your valueswill cost you, but not living them will kill you.

You can spend your day dicking the dog, but if you walk around like you own the place, no one will question you.

Don’t throw dirt on the sod.

Wealth doesn’t make the man.

Your family will benefit more from you being a good custodian of your resources than they will from your greed.

Never knock a man who is working, no matter what job he’s doing.

The grass may be greener, but it’s just as hard to cut.

What it all boils down to is that women are crazy and men are stupid.

Can do doesn’t mean should do.

The best way to love your children is to openly express your love for their mother. 

You don’t have to like someone to learn something valuable from them.

People tend to treat you the way that you treat yourself.

If you have to die you may as well go out with your boots on.

It is never a mistake to buy food or tools.

Never wrestle with a pig. You both get dirty and the pig likes it.

Never argue with an idiot; they’ll drag you down to their level and beat you with experience.

If a fight is unavoidable, do whatever it takes to end it as soon as possible.

Aim for the back of the head, through the face.

Become familiar with tools.

Just ask her out already, he who hesitates masturbates.

Don’t be your absent father. You may hate that woman but be there for the child you helped conceive.

There is nothing wrong with getting a second opinion.

Learn to use a knife.

Just because the water ran over it doesn’t mean it’s clean.

Never be afraid of getting your hands dirty or your knuckles bruised.

The people who are having too much fun at the office Christmas Party are the ones who are not around long enough for the next office Christmas Party.

Violence is never the answer, except for when it is. 

Never dip your pen in company ink.

Failure is not a bad thing. Failure is the path to success.

Learn to swing an axe.

Believe in something, but believe not in everything.

Alphas are born that way. People know the difference. Know your circle.

If you find yourself in a fair fight, your tactics suck.

Never worry about the mule, just shut up and load the wagon.

False motivation is better than none at all.

Learn to throw a punch and take one. You will get hit.

The Ghost Of Halloween’s Past

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When I was a kid around 7 or 8 I had a really great friend. As we got into our early teens we were very close, and now looking back I realize just how close. She was the person I talked to about anything and everything, I even talked to her about girls and she talked to me about the boys. We had that real close cousin type of friendship even though there was no blood relationship, but we were more than friends, our connection went deeper than that, much deeper than one can simply imagine. So, in “honor” of my great friend in life I would like to share some memories, I hope she wouldn’t mind.

The first time I met Gabby I was probably 7 or 8 years old, I was spying on the new girl on the block as she helped her parents unpack the moving truck and I was truly fascinated with everything about her. I was up high in the tree in our front yard, as quiet as a hawk searching for movement in the tall grass, as I watched her blonde hair whip around in the breeze. I got distracted for real and was watching two squirrels fighting over something at the end of the very branch I was laying on. Out of the blue I heard a quiet voice, the whispering voice of a girl asking me if I wanted to climb down so I could play with her. After I climbed down we walked back to the bayou where we caught and played with the crawdads that were everywhere. We didn’t talk much about anything, we just got muddy, laughed, and played. Later on we hear her dad calling out in the distance for Gabby to come home. With big eyes she stole a kiss on the cheek, told me thanks for playing with her, and she was gone into the wind. We would play like this, for hours at a time after school and on the weekends.

We went trick-or-treating together that first year she moved in and that became our “little tradition” for many years to come. We would do crazy shit all year long, pranks, jokes, and so on, always doing it together as much as time would allow. In our early teens our friendship took a turn to the best I think, I never heard her complain either, she noticeably was going from little girl to a young lady. As this happened, we played allot of show and tell and allot of spin the bottle and a fair share of truth or dare, always just us two, nobody else was allowed to participate. It’s just the way it was. Before long we knew more about one another than each other knew about themselves, inside and out. But this was all about to end, I was moving away the summer between 8th and 9th grade to live with my dad in another state. It was a surprise and crushing blow for all of us, family included, as everyone guessed us to start dating because we were inseparable at all times. That was a hard summer for me, I crashed an ultralight aircraft attempting to get my amateur aviation license which should have killed me, but it didn’t luckily. Unfortunately, on my final trip back home at the end of summer, to pack and say goodbye, I was given the terrible news that my dad had a fatal accident while participating in a exposition air show. I buried him a week later. All my plans died with him that day, but the only person I felt I could talk with or just sit with was my best friend Gabby.

High school started right on cue, we had unofficially started dating, meaning we did everything together but weren’t actually together, but everyone but us called it dating, we are just good friends. By our sophomore year the boys were really noticing her and time in our friendship was being stretched beyond control, something had to go, and that something just happened to be me. She dated many boys, I didn’t really have a serious relationship until 11th grade which made our friendship even stranger. In the beginning of that relationship Gabby played dirty, in my spare time she was there, flirting harder than ever, always naked around me when we were alone, always tempting me with the very thing I always thought I wanted, but it never happened, but according to her rumors we were together, we were fucking, and I was taken. A nice story that ended badly. We didn’t speak again until the night of our graduation, where she told me she was leaving soon to go to Air Force basic training, a place I was also going to be but got accepted into college so my enlistment was delayed 24 months. That was it, my first crush was leaving and I didn’t have the nuts to even tell her goodbye or I’m sorry or good luck, I just let her walk away.

I did attend college, I did get married to my high school sweetheart a year later, and did join the Air Force another year later. When all the dust settled and I land at my first base, I find out my sponsor just so happens to be little miss Gabby herself. I had four years to do in Japan, luckily she was leaving in a few months. We partied quite a bit before she left, a habit greatly practiced by ammo troops I soon found out. Yes, if hadn’t guessed, we had the same job, both making the choice we decided way back when in yesteryear. Soon enough she left, leaving me once again. I saw her again, sooner than I thought, as we both were deployed for Desert Storm and were stationed at the same base. It made 8 months fly by, having a friend from home with me. But soon enough we rotated out to our home bases and once again we were separated again. I would see her off and on for the next few years until we ended up in New Mexico together. She had gotten married to a true asshole, I say that because he thought it was okay to beat on her regularly. A disturbing fact that was brought out to my attention one early morning when she showed up in my doorstep with a bloody nose and bleeding lip. That night a few of my friends and I payed him a visit, never before had I tried to kill someone before, but I tried that night. He got the message and slipped away quietly one day soon after, leaving a note announcing he wants a divorce.

Life went on, I divorced my wife, got out the Air Force, and so forth. Meanwhile, Gabby was determined to make a career out of the Air Force, and carried on, gaining rank, ribbons, and accommodations. After two back to back tours in Afghanistan she decided she was done, she retired as a Senior Master Sergeant (E-8) which I had an invitation to the ceremony but had other obligations, so no, I did not attend. I got a phone call from Gabby a few weeks later, announcing she had moved back to Houston and wanted to get together with my family and I for dinner one night soon. My current wife knew very little of Gabby and our lifelong friendship, since I never had a need to talk about my past much, something I’ve been working on lately, and my wife is now realizing that I treat my relationships, friends or family, and with her, very seriously, and I will guard those relationships until the end. She gets it, I think.

Our dinner out was great, everyone including my wife and kids, had a great time talking and visiting. I think my wife looks at me differently now, she never has had anyone explain how my life in the Air Force was except for me, and I tend to not talk much about the details, just keep it short and sweet, the end, story over. That dinner was two years ago, on Halloween night, a night not unlike many before it, we said our goodbyes, made future plans, and we went our separate ways. After getting settled at home, about an hour and a half after leaving the restaurant, I got a phone call from the Constable’s office to inform me that an officer was heading my way to discuss an important matter with me. Soon enough we got the knock on the door, the officer was there to inform me of a fatal automobile accident a few hours ago. Seems I was listed as Gabby’s only next of kin and also the last person she spoke with according to her phone. He explained that a truck traveling the opposite direction hit a deer which resulted in the truck losing control and colliding head on with Gabby’s truck at what was estimated at at least 80 mph, resulting in both being killed at impact. The following day I was asked to formally identify her body and yes it was her. She had a closed casket funeral due to the facial and upper body damage. A very small funeral at the Veteran’s Cemetery here in Houston, most of the people attending were my family. Her flag was presented to me, probably the hardest thing I accepted in life with exception to being 15 and presented my father’s flag at his funeral.

I have bad news for my wife, who recommended I tell this story here today in my spare time, who thought it might make me feel better if I take the time to write about my great friend and our enduring friendship, who is wrong because I don’t feel better, but I did enjoy the trip down memory lane, sort of, but I think I should come clean to y’all, the story y’all read today is only about 1% of everything that ever happened. For now y’all can assume and presume, for now y’all can filter through it all, because for now I’m very done writing about it. In case you are curious, the picture is of Gabby, I took that picture in an undisclosed location in a desert in New Mexico many years ago, alongside a deserted road, she wanted to flash somebody so bad, but after hours just the scorpions, the buzzards, and I were the only ones enjoying the show. It’s a great picture and memory of her, she truly was a graceful and free spirit.

Even I Get Shocked Occasionally

wpid-20150831_145108.jpgAs a parent there are just things I don’t worry about my children doing. As a parent there are things that I would be shocked if I knew my children are doing it. We live in a much different time than when I was 19, it was “simple” then, social media and texting consisted of passing notes, gossiping, and telephone calls from the living room family phone. Today everything is digital, as fast as hitting the send/post button. Yes, it makes “sharing” life’s little details quick and effortless, but at what cost to us personally, because once it’s on the internet it is there forever, and forever is a fucking long time. So, where am I getting with all of this information? Well, quite honestly, I got the shock of a lifetime a few weeks ago and I’m just getting the time (making the time) to tell this little story that hits real close to home.

My social media circle of “friends” differs a great deal from my kids, eventhough they follow me, I do not follow them, I don’t even look at their pages unless I get forwarded something one of them thinks I need to know for the humor aspect or ideas for me to write about here, it’s rare, trust me. But, a few weeks ago I get an invitation to see a friend of my 19 year old daughter’s page with a all caps OMG added in for good measure. I actually didn’t look at it the same day, I was asked if I saw it a few days later, so I went and checked it out, and yes, OMG fit, more like OMFG I don’t believe what I’m seeing was more appropriate. I was full on shocked, no doubt about it, my fucking jaw dropped in one second flat because I never expected to see what I was looking at. Of course, Facebook has strict rules, so I saw only some blurred out images, but I followed the link, something I still regret to this day, since there are things, as a parent, I don’t need or want to see, ever.

We have lived in basically the name area for the last 16 years, meaning my kids have had friends for a long time that all spent a great deal of time at my house, I’ve watched most of them grow into young adults. For many years my middle daughter (19) had a best friend, more like sister, she was raised by her aunt and uncle since age 5 when her parents were hit by a drunk driver and killed instantly. She spent allot of time at my house as the years went by and when she wasn’t, she was dearly missed. About a year ago, she moved away to North Carolina and the distance really caused a falling out in their friendship, reduced mostly to stalking each other’s life on Facebook. Which is where I got dragged into it. It was her wall I got the link to, it was what I saw there that shocked me, I mean really, really shocked. As I mentioned, there are things left better unseen. I know, ok, let’s get to it.

Upon arrival at her wall I see pictures of her, in the nude, blurred out of course, but one could still get the jist of the obscured pictures. Like a dumbass I followed the link to the full sets of pictures. It would appear that she had posed for a very popular men’s magazine, which I won’t name by name, hope ol’ Hef won’t be pissed, a few months ago. Now, with that being said, who am I to judge her for her own personal decisions? She’s an adult and entitled to make her own mind up what she will do in her life. It really caught me by surprise though, it was not what I was expecting to be seeing. What will make life interesting is the fact that she will be in town visiting her family in late September and I was recently informed that she will be stopping by to say “hi”.

Now, as a father, I have many questions and/or statements to make. Taking my past experiences into consideration we can all say I’m not necessarily innocent when it comes to the adult entertainment industry and lifestyle, I’ve been around the block more than once. My wife asked me how it would make me feel if that was either one of my daughters. Honestly, I don’t know the answer. I really don’t. I would be shocked, of course, but hopefully I would be supporting of the decisions. How does one answer that question under hypothetical conditions? I know one thing for sure, as I mentioned before, as soon as it is on the internet it’s going to be on the internet forever. Of course, what she has done is also available in print, still being sold in a local store near you and I. This is all I know, we make choices, we make changes, and we live our lives as we see fit. In more ways than I will lay out here, I’m proud of her and support her, not just because she’s like family, but because she deserves to have what she wants in life. So many people don’t follow dreams and aspirations, they jump into the line with the rest of the conformists and just muddle through life, not knowing if they are happy or not unless someone tells them so. And, like so many other things, this post is over. Hopefully it has given y’all something to think about, to consider, and that you realize that EVERY picture of a naked female you ever see is somebody’s daughter, think about it.

Encounters Of A Dreamer

I will always welcome stories from anyone who is willing to take the time to sit and write a story. I say that very collectively, y’all have seen what gets posted here on this blog and y’all know what I don’t personally post. Yet, the field of opportunities for what gets posted is as vast as the Great Plains of The United States of America, which coincidentally, is where this story comes from, all the way from the outskirts of a little town called Gettysburg, a little place located in the central region of South Dakota. Why is the location of this particular submitter important you ask? It’s simple, for me at least, as I would think people would be less inclined to do allot on the internet in a very rural town of just over eleven hundred people. When she graduated GHS in 2014, she was one of 20 some odd graduates. Seems small to me, I graduated in a class of 667 seniors. I’m just saying. Into the now, now, she is a student here in Texas attending Texas A&M in hopes of attaining her Biomedical Sciences degree. So, in my humble opinion, she has one hell of a brain to be in Texas A&M to begin with, and as y’all will soon see, what her mind sees and how it sees is amazing as well. How did she come across me? Oddly enough she was doing some surfing looking for the big city papers in South Dakota to read some local news, and multiple entries lead her here. Again, I will stress the importance of tagging blog entries. Now, at first she didn’t really want to start reading my blog, but said she was drawn in by many of my stories, she reluctantly admitted “binge reading” all night not too long ago and found herself inspired to “share” a dream she had recently with me and hopefully with the 3 people who read my blog pretty regularly. She expressed that I have a new fan and a new member of the mysterious Scorpion Army. Also, I just want to mention that she also let me know she has a few nice tattoos that I might like and she wouldn’t “mind” seeing them in the tattoo section or as a post here. Interesting, very interesting indeed. And, per her request, I will keep her identity my little secret, so for the express purpose of this post she will carry the alias of LabRat. The picture is credited to her friend who took it for her and has given The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog permission to use it at will. Without further introduction I give y’all the story she has sent me, she explained to me it was a very vivid dream she had and has yet to begin to understand.

Mr. Scorpion Sting ~

First of all I just want to tell you that, eventhough I found your blog by accident, I don’t regret a single moment I have spent there reading and looking at everything it has to offer readers. I never thought I would be writing my dream down for anybody else to read. But I am now, because I think it will help me better be able to explain it’s meaning afterwards. I’m open to the opinions of you and your readers if you care to share. By the way, I hope you don’t mind, I’m now a follower of your blog as well as have requesting to be a part of The Scorpion Army. My dream felt and seemed real, as if the memory I have is of something I actually did. I had to look into dreams and what they actually are, the simple answer is that dreams are a series of sensations, images, and deep thoughts that happen in a person’s mind during sleep. The question I fail, repeatedly, in answering is why I had the dream I did in the first place.

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The first thing I remember is sitting at the edge of my bed, stretching, feeling the coolness of the air in the room as it touches my body. As I wander around a house I don’t know I see myself moving quietly in the nude, as if I’m trying not to wake someone. I began to run a hot bath, the steam was billowing out like that of an old steam engine train, I could feel the heat and moisture of the steam but when I stepped into the water I could feel nothing. I continued to stand there under the water, letting it pour across my body like it was rinsing off what I did the night before. I bent down to turn off the water, letting the remaining water drip from my hair, as it ran down my back I could feel a coolness on my skin. After drying myself off I wrapped my hair up with the towel and walked back down the really long hallway back to the room with the bed. The curtains on the windows were pulled back now, lighting the room up with vibrant colors from outside. As I listened to the birds courting in the trees I sat in front of my mirror and put on my make-up, I dried and styled my hair, painted my toenails and fingernails a blazing red, misted myself with a sweet perfume, and when I was done I pushed in the chair and left the room. I watched myself walk, from a corner in the hallway, stalking myself, watching the way I moved, and could feel everything I touched, every step of my bare feet, every breath inhaled and exhaled, and even the smells of fresh squeezed orange juice as they passed along my path.

Soon enough I was walking out the door, still nude, still bare, but as if that didn’t matter, as if it was meant to be, and as if this was the way it was supposed to be. As I passed through the front yard I looked back to see the house I just left fade into the distance, as if the yard was a great distance, but then I am at the streets edge, there are other people walking by, or jogging, and even walking their dogs, none of which paid me any attention. I even kneeled down to pet this man’s small dog, I spoke to him but he didn’t answer, and then he continues to walk away from me. I felt his shirt in my hand being pulled away as I tried to stop him, I screamed “look at me asshole” as loud as I possibly could, yet he pulled away. I chased him, I ran as fast as I could, while he walked he soon disappeared into the distance ahead of me. I found my self at the intersection of a very busy street, waiting with others at a bus stop, I listened as they spoke around me, but never to me. Out of bravery or out of ignorance, I reached out to this woman standing there, busy looking at something on her phone, and I knocked her phone out of her hand with a violent slap. Nothing, she merely has a look of disgust on her face as she picks up her now shattered phone. The other people around her began asking what happened and her only reply was that she must have just lost her grip and dropped it. Ahh, too bad I said to her. She looks right through me to smile at the man behind me who had passed on his condolences for her now dead phone. Wait, what in the fuck is going on! Why cant people see me? Why cant people feel me? Why cant people hear me?

On the bus I sat next to a man doing a crossword puzzle in the paper, when he didn’t know the word he would cheat by looking it up on his phone. I never liked cheaters. I took his bottle of water out of the seat, opened it, and began pouring it all over his paper and his lap, but what people saw was him pouring the water everywhere, very casually, and without thinking twice about it. What is going on? Who are these people around me but so far removed from me. I recognize some of the faces, this is my route, this isn’t my first time on this bus taking this trip. I will see where it leads, I will see where to get off when I know where to get off. But how will I know? I don’t even know where I’m going or why I’m going there. When the bus stops it is in front of a very large and tall building, it blocks the bright sunshine seen around me, everyone exits the bus, most of them heading inside the big building, passing through the doors, until I was all alone on what seemed like a deserted street corner. I feel very alone, scared, emotionless, and decide to go into the ominous building myself. When I get to the doors there is a man standing there in a guard’s uniform, I watched as he opened the doors for each of the people that had come before me but he was standing there like a statue before me, motionless, expressionless, seems very unhappy. I walked up to him, inches away from him, until I was pressed up against him, until I pushed myself closer, I began kissing him on his neck, caressing his chest with my hands, I let my hands slip to his zipper which I undid, holding his very limp member in my hand. I squeezed him, I dug my nails into his flesh, and he had not a single reaction. Then I feel myself being pushed forward by him, he is leaning in to pull the door open for yet another person, one which I snuck inside right behind. The marble floor was extremely cold on the bottoms of my feet, I needed to be someplace else.

I stood in the line where the people waited to walk through metal detectors, have their bagged searched, and a wand passed across them, as if to give the appearance that they really do care. My turn at the gate, nothing to put in the basket, no bag to be dug through, nothing to declare, and no magic badge to identify myself to the guards. As I passed through the metal detector it went off, there was a man 10 feet in front of me and a woman about the same distance behind me, but this thing’s sirens and lights are going nuts. The people around, to include the guards are bewildered, they are talking that the equipment has malfunctioned. No dumbasses, it didn’t malfunction, I don’t think at least, come get me, I’m right here, I feel you touching me as you come closer, but you don’t feel me, see me, smell me, or hear me, your fucking loss, I’m going in. Going in? Going in where? Follow the herd, they are all going somewhere inside this building, just follow the herd. I get on an elevator, packed so tight it was like being in a grinder at a meat market, the smells of 20 people all melting together to make one very bad smelling elevator. So much heavy breathing, it was like listening to an orgy in progress, bodies grinding, rubbing, moving, and the “ding” sounds the start of the mass separation, I’m forced out with a large number of the herd, so I just go with the flow. The moved like ants, all following the scent trail to their destination, one by one they dropped off into offices and cubicles leaving me out, I was standing there looking at people work, looking at people surfing porn on their phones, and even one woman I had followed to the bathroom because she looked suspicious, who sat in a stall, alone with her tiny little vibrator that she put to quick work. She had to bite into the flesh of her arm to contain her moans from her coworkers, faster and faster she went until she almost collapses. She wipes down the still dripping vibrator, slips into her purse, wipes herself down too, then it is over, as fast as it started, without washing her hands she touches up her make-up, tusses her hair a bit, and away she goes.

Bored with this floor I catch a ride on the executive elevator, we’re going all the way to the top floor. These men and women quickly load into a boardroom, get their coffee, muffins, and waters as they all try to find the best seat. When the big cheese enters they all stand, as if to show respect, but only thinking about their chair pushing away as they sit and making an ass out of themselves in front of the boss. Why else would they cling to their chairs? Fear? Speed? When they sit and he begins to speak I find myself on the long table, walking back and forth, looking at the view of the city out of the window. I found it fun to fuck with people’s hair, a little messing up of the different heads here and there never hurt. Then one man, as he brushed his hair back into place touched my hand, he looked right at me as if I had just been caught, stared into my eyes for a moment and then it was over. Did he know I was there? Did he know I was squatted down on the table in front of him, so close I could feel his breath on my stomach? Could he really feel me touch him? Did he really just touch my hand and feel it? Answer me motherfucker! Out of frustration I licked the side of his face, starting at the chin and ending at his forehead, he tasted like a woman. I wonder if that was the taste of his wife. Or was it his mistress? Or is he a sick pedophile fuck? Who are these people anyways? Why am I here? Needing a break I excused myself from the meeting and found myself in the office of one of the kings of this corporation. He’s living large, his office is huge, decorated with some very fine things from around the world. Probably all tax loopholes of some sort. His giant antique leather chair was very chilling to my flesh when I first sat in it, soon after I began to feel the wetness of my legs and ass on the leather, I was perspiring as I sat here, it was very warm, it was making me very sleepy. I cleared a space on this big desk to lay on it, I curled up and fell asleep right there. When I woke, it was dark in the office, dark outside, dark everywhere. I needed to get out. I find he has an elevator which goes straight to the parking garage, how convenient, so I took another ride.

The parking lot was empty, I walked around looking for a way out, then I see a car, a very nice car, with the lights on, as I approached the car I could hear it was running. When I peaked inside I see nobody, the door was open, and I got in. I put it in drive and just stepped as hard as I could on the gas pedal, I was going very fast in a short amount of time. I found the exit of the garage and headed towards it, the gate opens slowly and the guard looks at me in the car but cannot see me because the windows are tinted very dark. Then I just started driving, I drove all around the city, a place which is very different after dark, there are different people out, people who see the world in a different way. I started thinking, wondering about my day, this bizarre day which has also been fantastic. I drove that car fast, the speedometer stopped at 220mph but I kept going faster, every light on the street was green, I just kept going like there was no end, before long the blur of the city lights were far behind me, but I just keep driving. Everything comes to a dead stop, the car is halted by something, I am thrown forward through the windshield of the car, thrown so far I cant even see the car. It’s very dark, I’m very cold as I lay motionless, laid in a shallow puddle of water, face down, only hearing the sounds of the wind and rain. I wasn’t able to move or didn’t want to mover a very long time. I could feel the heat of the sun that came up in the morning, the sting of the sun as it blazed down on my back mid-day, and how I could feel relief as the sun would set again. I the final night I felt this for the last time.

The first thing I remember is sitting at the edge of my bed, stretching, feeling the coolness of the air in the room as it touches my body. As I wander around a house I don’t know I see myself moving quietly in the nude, as if I’m trying not to wake someone. I began to run a hot bath, the steam was billowing out like that of an old steam engine train, I could feel the heat and moisture of the steam but when I stepped into the water I could feel nothing. I continued to stand there under the water, letting it pour across my body like it was rinsing off what I did the night before. I bent down to turn off the water, letting the remaining water drip from my hair, as it ran down my back. I began walking, passing the room I didn’t know, walking wet, walking somewhere, walking anywhere. I went outside, sitting on the stairs of the porch, looking at the car that had been crushed into the giant tree in the front yard. I began walking towards this mangled car, remembering a car similar to this one from somewhere in time, there was blood everywhere, the interior was bathed in blood, the windshield laid a distance away from the front of the car, blood pooled on the hood and ground. I walked forward, seeing something in the distance, something glistening in the light rain, there was a nude girl’s body laid face down in a shallow puddle of blood and water. She looks peaceful, she looks as if she is part of the land, I kneel down, whipping the hair from her bloody face when she opens her eyes, looking into mine. She smiles at me, she whispers to me to that I am feeling no pain, I’m suffering no longer, she takes my hand into hers, pulls me closer until we lay together, together in peace, together forever.

When I woke up in the morning following this dream I remembered as if it happened. The girl was me, I watched myself during the entire dream. I, too, sat at the edge of my small bed, dripping in sweat, wondering what in the hell just happened. My friend and room-mate explained to me that she was woke up by me during the night when apparently I had the bath running at about 3 in the morning. As she watched me walk around the house naked she says she stopped me at the front door because I was trying to go out side for some reason. She took my hand and led me back to bed, where I was tucked in and watched for the remainder of the night. When I saw her when I first woke up she had a very scared look on her face, it reminded me of my mother’s face when she told me my grandmother I was vey closed to had passed away. I told my room-mate about my dream, it freaked her out a little, but she was there for me, held me, and brought me hot tea while I took a very hot bath to soak my aching body. She remained at my side, helping me scrub my back, then drying my hair for me, and eventually we just went down stairs, curled up on the couch and watched movies the rest of the day, old movies from the fifties, seemed like that was all that is on at that time of day. After we talked about my dream that first morning it has never been discussed again. I want to talk to her about it again, I want her to read this thing after it is written on your blog. I appreciate your willingness to share my dream with your audience. Maybe, just maybe someone out there has an explanation. Thanks again, yours truly LabRat.

I’m Happy With The New Background

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As shown here in the Rexi photobomb, we can see how the new background looks on a large computer screen. I like it! Thanks, as always to my special friend, Rexi.

Still Living The Life Of A Stripper

In the paragraphs below y’all will be reading information which I finally had time to transcribe from a recorded talk I had with a very good friend of mine and former employer. She discusses the life of a stripper, how to make money, what to do with that money, personal safety, and so much more. I encourage y’all to set some time aside to read the information she has provided as it is considerably lengthy. It also provides insight to her personal accomplishments and how she has become a successful businesswoman. There are very different professions for all of the people who want to work, hopefully this will show y’all a different view of the world a stripper lives in. This could very easily be done as three separate posts but I’m an all you can eat buffet kind of guy who likes to get my fill all in one sitting. So, with that being said, here we go.

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To begin with let me say that I started stripping at the age seventeen with a fake identification and a fast talking mouth. With that resting comfortably in the back of your head I also opened my own full nude strip club at the age of 24 in Houston and have since opened another location in Dallas. There are a great deal of misconceptions out there about strippers and that is something you will have to deal with if you enter the profession. I will say this, I truly enjoy what I do and I have never felt exploited because I’m a stripper. In fact I have always felt it was far more personally empowering than any other profession. But stripping is not for everyone. It requires a certain temperament. Don’t go and become a stripper because you feel you “have” to. If you hate what you do it will show and you will make very little money as a stripper. The minute you start dancing the clock is ticking. There are a limited number of years in which to make as much money as you can. Most dancers retire around 27. If you’re starting when you’re 18 that gives you nine years in which to make as much money as you can and then get out. Chances are you will never again be able to make as much per day as you do while stripping. Make the most of of the time.

There are two kinds of strippers, subsistence and capital strippers. A subsistence stripper just works enough to get by. Maybe a few days a week, saves little and is always in a financial crisis. I see these girls panicking to get enough dances to pay rent the next day but by the next week they are back to partying, doing drugs, buying expensive clothes and generally pissing away every dime they earn. Their plans for the future are vague at best and even though they claim to realize they can’t dance forever they seldom save and invest their money or invest in an education. These girls get out of the business no better then they started and spend the rest of their lives getting their ass pinched in menial, low paying jobs. A capital stripper dances as an investment. In my opinion this is the only reason to strip. Stripping is just too hard a way to earn a living to do it for just enough to “get by”. You can get by on a McDonalds salary. If you are going to have guys staring at your naked ass all evening you should at least be securing a decent future for yourself, not just tomorrow’s groceries and rent. There are many excuses for not saving your money but in my experience few of them are valid. Single mother, health problems whatever, you can still afford to save. If you work hard you can make a great deal of money stripping.

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When you see that money in your hand it just doesn’t seem real, and when you keep seeing it night after night it seems like the supply will be endless. It’s really not, you need to put away the largest portion you can. Not just 10% or so but 40% or 60%. It is possible to do that and still live a very comfortable life. Strippers tend to live beyond their means and end up with nothing but memories of that nice sports car or that fancy apartment. If you can just keep it under control for a few years you can have that stuff for the rest of your life, long after you’re done stripping. Live within your means; base your spending around not what you make stripping but what you would make at a good entry-level job. Get a good, reliable car but you don’t need that giant SUV or fast sports car. Make sure your lease or car loan doesn’t rely on a strippers level of income to pay it. Same goes for the rent or mortgage. It’s very easy to fall on heels and break an ankle or tear up your knee, it happens all the time. You could be out of work for weeks or even months. You don’t want to be buried under a mountain of bills. I suggest buying at least basic health insurance but if you don’t you will need at least enough savings to pay for emergencies.

So what to do with the money you save? Well, set enough aside to pay for all of your expenses like food, housing, tuition, utilities, car, whatever for 4 months. This is your emergency fund, put it in your saving account and don’t spend it. The rest you should invest. I have a few well chosen mutual funds that I have been very happy with. As a stripper you’re looking to invest for the long term, at least 5 years and probably 10. Mutual funds are low maintenance and are well suited for this purpose. I strongly advise against investing in individual stocks. Despite all tales of buying low and selling high at the end of the year very few people are able to make money off buying and selling individual stocks. Stick with mutual funds, they are safer and more reliable (at least for the novice investor).

The best possible investment you can make is an education. With a nice big nest egg and a good degree you can do just about anything you want when you retire from stripping. Without an education or any job skills that money will eventually be gone. With an education you can make the most of your savings, use it as capital for your own business or invest it for a steady source of income. Too many strippers talk about how they’re planning on going back to school or they’re just taking a semester off. This is bullshit, if you want an education you need to go to school and work hard. If you’re not going to school then you’re pissing away your own future.

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At most clubs you will walk around and ask the customers if they’d like a private dance (or lap dance depending on the club). Some clubs just have stage dancing. Often there is a private area that you can go for a dance. Be careful, though, the dim lights and the privacy tend to make the guys a little frisky. Not in a bad or scary way just in a way that may need to be corrected. The most important thing to do when you’re dancing is to smile and make eye contact. Nothing turns a guy off faster then a stripper strolling bored around the stage while staring vacantly off into space. Try to make each guy you’re dancing for think he’s the only guy you’re dancing for. This is how the pros make the big bucks. At many clubs a significant part of your nightly earnings comes from private dances. Most of the time the customer will pay for you to sit and talk with them as well. Guys vary a lot but it’s always important to be attentive. Nobody likes to feel like they’re being ignored. Most guys are pretty nice and easy to talk to. Provided you’re a good listener and act interested, it’s no problem. Then you get the guys who aren’t trying to be obnoxious, they just don’t have the best social skills. They will sit and alternate between nagging you to go out with them and lying about how much money they have, how many places they’ve traveled, how important they are in their company, etc. Simpering and looks of wide-eyed wonder come in handy at this point. Some guys are an absolute pleasure to sit with, they buy plenty of dances, they visit on a regular basis, and best of all they’re lots of fun to talk too. It’s guys like this who really make it all worth while.

When dancing it’s important to stay motivated, at most clubs you are an independent contractor. You won’t get fired if you don’t work hard and no one will say anything if you decide to hang out at the bar and talk all night talking to the bartender. You need to treat being a stripper like a job and not a social experience. Decide on what time and how long you will have dinner for, the rest of the time work the floor as hard as you can. Make sure you always get at least 8 hours of sleep so you’re not tired. You’ll look and feel better. Set a clear goal, try to get 4 dances and hour, as you get better set higher goals for yourself. Never assume a passive approach and wait for them to call you over, stay moving and keep working. If it’s hard and you just can’t get motivated make a game of it, make bets with other girls on who can get the most dances. Promise yourself ice cream if you reach a certain goal, whatever you have to do to stay motivated and keep earning that money.

Learning how to properly break the ice and get invited to sit with a customer takes time. Most girls tend to just walk around to every guy in the room and ask “Wanna dance?” and then when he says no walk off. This is the exact wrong approach. Every guy in that room has enough money for at least one dance and you just have to find the right words to get them to buy one or more. “Wanna dance?” can work in a very crowded room or if a guy is already interested but it will do absolutely nothing to convince a guy who was uninterested to change his mind. It’s too easy to say no to and that is usually what happens. To start with, choose your targets, who is looking at you the most when you are on stage or dancing for other customers? Talk to the bartender (always be friends and take to the bartender) and the floor hosts about who has an open tab or has been spending a lot of money. If a bartender or floor hosts gives you a good lead and you make money ALWAYS tip them at the end of the night and that way next time they will go to you first when they see a big spender. When you approach your prospective customer try and say anything but “Wanna dance?”: would you like some company?, would you like if I joined you? If the room is slow and he seems reluctant put a very slight push on. If he says he’s not interested ask if he would mind if you just sat down and rested your feet for a minute- you’re “not used to these heels”. Few men are going to say no to that, and the “not used to these heels” implies that you’re a new dancer and invites conversation. If 10 minutes go by and he still doesn’t buy a dance don’t ask- just say “I’m sorry, I’ve got to get back to work- it’s been nice talking to you okay?” This implies that you didn’t consider sitting with him work, a slight bit of flattery that will get you a dance later. Think of this approach as “seeding” in that you may not get the dance then, but chances are you will later. After a half-hour of “wanna dance” from the other girls he’s going to wish for your company again and probably be willing to pay for it. Or even the next time he comes in your’s will be the familiar face. With this approach it’s important you not spend too long with them, always keep them hungry. Unless they’re paying don’t sit with them longer then 10 to 15 minutes and only that long if the room is very slow. If they’re used to getting it for free it’s going to be hard to get them to pay for it. You’re friendly and available and they just have to be willing to pay for it.

Never ever, sit on your own or hang out at the bar talking to other strippers. At any given time you should be either sitting with a customer, moving to another customer or on stage getting naked. If you’re just standing around they will assume you’re not busy and it will be very hard to get a customer to pay for your time because “you’re not doing anything anyway”. Look busy, if they think other men want you then they will want you. It’s important you have respect for the money they give you, so much money changes hands that girls often forget what it represents. Let’s say your customer earns $40,000 a year after taxes- probably about average income for a stripclub patron in Houston. That works out to around $20 an hour. If a customer sits with you and you make $100, that’s 5 hours of his time. If a handyman came to your house and fixed thing for 5 hours you’d say “thank you” right? Always thank the customer and make sure he knows you mean it. Even if $100 doesn’t seem like a lot of money to you to the average customer it is.

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One last thing, don’t screw with guys’ heads. It’s not cool, you can make money without doing it. I see lots of girls who string guys along implying they’ll go out with them if they just visit a few more times or laying on sob stories about their sick children or parents. Don’t do it, there is never any reason for you to lie as a stripper. After a few repetitions it gets very fake and you just come off as a greedy gold digging bitch. If you want customers to treat you with respect you should treat them with respect. If they are disrespectful just walk away, there is no reason for you to sink to their level. There are more then enough good men who will to pay you to sit, talk and laugh with them and when you dance they will treat you like a goddess. As customers they deserve your courtesy and if they don’t respect you in return they don’t deserve to have you spend time with them. Safety is a critical issue for strippers. Many menaked not understand that what we sell is a fantasy or feel that our employment makes us fair game for unwanted attentions. The six dumbest words that can leave a woman’s mouth are “I can take care of myself”. No you can’t, and get any notion that you’re some kind of tough girl out of your head. Men are bigger, stronger and meaner. They’ve been beating and raping women for thousands of years now and have pretty much got it down pat. Your little kick boxing lessons at the health club will not help you. If a grown man hits you full force you will be knocked unconscious and very likely break the bones in your face. Do not ever make safety decisions based on your opinion of your ability to defend yourself.

I personally think that carrying weapons or taking martial art, self-defense classes etc. are a bad idea for most women. The most effective way to survive is to be scared; anything that makes you brave makes you more likely to walk into a dangerous situation. If you have a gun in your purse you might be more likely to take that shortcut home, or take a ride with a man you don’t know very well or any number of risky things. If you’re scared you’re careful, if you’re careful you don’t get into trouble. If you are a feature stripper, have a very public presence (website or modeling), or have had problems with a stalker then a gun may be something you want to consider purchasing. You need to be trained in it’s use and practice with it at a firing range at least once every few months. Don’t bother carrying one unless you comfortable with the idea of killing someone. That’s what guns are for, you’re not going to be shooting knives out of anyone’s hands, you’re going to be trying to make a hole in the center of their torso. If you have small hands like me you can have a gunsmith machine a trigger guard that will comfortable fit your finger but too small for the finger of a grown man. But I would like to emphasize, most women are far better off not carrying a gun. Only if you are in a position of constantly being exposed to unavoidable danger is it an option.

One never wishes to blame the victim but every single girl I know without exception who has ever gotten into trouble was doing something most women would consider risky or just plain stupid. Don’t take chances- the stakes are too high. As a stripper, leaving the club after work is the time when you are most vulnerable. I have only gotten scared twice at work. On both occasions it was when an overly enthusiastic customer decided to wait for me outside the club after closing. On both occasions the men were just confused about the nature of what a stripper does and were quickly dealt with by security. This being said, transportation is a critical safety issue that you really have to think about. Going to work is not a problem because customers can’t really see where you are coming from. Leaving is when you have to be most vigilant. Public transportation is out of the question, it’s too easy to be followed and is rarely safe at the hours you’ll be riding. I’d suggest sharing a cab with one of the other girls. If you decide to drive, make very sure that your car is reliable, last thing you need is a break down on an empty road at 3AM. A cell phone is a good thing to have. Make sure when you register you car you do it to another address (friend, parent, etc.). That way if some creep takes down your license plate number he can’t find out your home address. For obvious reasons never give any personal info to anyone who knows you as a stripper, including other strippers. There are strippers and bouncers who will give the information to customers for money or as a favor. There is no reason anyone needs to know anything but your stage name. Don’t tell them where you live or what school you go to no matter how trust worthy they seem. Once that information is out it’s very difficult to put back in the box.

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We are not all success stories. I had my eye on the prize the first time someone slipped money in my garter. I learned how to capitalize on a man’s willingness to part with his hard earned money to see me naked. Done properly, a stripper can sock away grand amounts of cash just by dancing naked, and it can end as a very fruitful career choice. Not every girl is a naturally born stripper, you have to be willing to work your ass off, and then the world holds endless possibilities for you.

How To Always Use The Word Fuck

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Regular and irregular visitors to The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog are very aware that I frequently use the word fuck and many variations of the word fuck. So, it should be no fucking surprise that I would choose to answer a fucked up question from an email with a few different explanations of why I often am found using the word fuck so much. Personally, I think it is the most perfect fucking word in the English language. Now, some will say that the regular use of the word fuck makes a person seem unintelligent because it is a word that isn’t needed. Obviously, I fucking disagree. Last chance to leave if you are a grammar Nazi or truly offended by the liberal use of the word fuck. If you’re still here then let’s fucking roll the dice and see if we can’t crap out by the end of this post.

If you gave a fuck at all about the fucking amazing English language, you would stop fucking around and study the word fuck. When the fucked up people around you start fucking with you just tell them to shut the fuck up or to go fuck themselves, because you have a fucking life you’re trying to live. Learn to use the word fuck. So when someone asks you, “What the fuck does that mean?” You don’t have to answer, “I don’t fucking know.” So what the fuck are you waiting for? Don’t fuck yourself over. Start by reading this post now.

Just to be very fucking clear here, I’m not promoting the irresponsible use of the word fuck or other swear words. Much to the contrary, I think that if y’all are going to swear, y’all should have a high degree of awareness as to what y’all are communicating and the effect it has on all of the people around you personally. Even if you have an intellectual understanding of how to swear, it doesn’t give you the deeply culturally conditioned reaction that natives have. They grew up in their families learning what was appropriate or not.

The Word FUCK

As you can see from what has been written above already, fuck is one of the most versatile, varying, and interchangeable words that exists in of of the English language (and probably ALL languages as well). It’s also known as the the F-word and the F-bomb. While the word fuck is often seen as the most vulgar word in the English language, it’s very commonly used in everyday speech, and you will encounter it all over the place in many different types of situations. As you’ll see below, there are a few different examples that use the word fuck. Whether or not you plan to say the word fuck, to fully understand the English language, you must understand this versatile word and its many, many uses. Fuck can be used in almost every situation and to express any emotion.  Sometimes, the only thing that matters is what tone of voice you use and what words surround it.

Test yourself by looking through these various different expressions involving the word fuck and see how many you already know and how many are new to y’all. Then, go back and read all of the expressions to learn the phrases you don’t already know and deepen your understanding of the ones you already know. (Note: some of the uses of fuck in the introductory paragraphs will be defined later in this post.)

1. What the fuck?

This is a common phrase that’s used when you are confused, irritated, or angry. It’s often abbreviated to “WTF.” There are many different ways you can add what the fuck to other words or phrases to add emphasis. What the fuck is this? What the fuck are you talking about? What the fuck is with this guy? What the fuck are you doing here?What the fuck is going on? Where the fuck are you going?What the fuck are you thinking?

2. Fuck!

Used to express anger, excitement, pain, grief, surprise, and anything else that might “shock” one’s senses.

3. Fuck it!

You say fuck it when you just don’t care anymore. It can also be used to admit defeat.

3. Holy fuck!

Used to express surprise. You can also say “holy shit” or “holy fucking shit.”

5. Fuck you/him/her/that

Used to express anger, rage, hatred, or contempt with someone or something else.

6. Go fuck yourself!

Used in similar situations as “fuck you,” “go fuck yourself” is used to express anger, frustration, hatred, or contempt with someone else.

7. Did you fuck her/her/that?

Fuck can also be a vulgar and very informal way to say to have sex.

8. Fuck no / fuck yes

You add fuck in front of no or yes when you want to add emphasis to it.

9. Fuck me!

You will commonly hear fuck me being said in the context of feeling astonished or frustrated/upset at yourself.

10. Don’t fuck me over.

To fuck someone over means to do them an injustice. In other words, it can mean to take advantage of, ignore a promise you made to them (which gets them in some kind of trouble), or to deceive someone out of their money or possessions.

11. Are you fucking with me?

To fuck with someone means to joke with them. If you ask someone angrily, “Are you fucking with me?!” it can also mean are you lying to me?

12. Stop fucking around.

To fuck around means to not be doing anything serious, usually when there’s important work to be done.

13. He’s fucked.

To be fucked means that you are in a hopelessly bad situation that you’re unable to recover from.

14. He’s fucked up.

To be fucked up means to have taken way too many drugs or drank too much alcohol or to have gotten hurt badly.

15. That’s fucking stupid.

Fucking is commonly added before adjectives to add emphasis.

16. What a stupid fuck

Fuck can also be used as a noun, but there is usually in adjective describing what type of fuck the person is. It is also used in a negative context.

17. I don’t give a fuck.

To not give a fuck means you couldn’t care less about something.

18. Fuck off. 

To fuck off is commonly used to tell someone to leave you alone.

19. Where the fuck are we?

This is used when you are totally lost and have no idea where you are.

20. I don’t fucking know.

You can add the word fucking to verbs like know and care to add emphasis. This is used when you think it’s obvious that you don’t know or if someone has already asked you a bunch of times before.

21. Shut the fuck up.

Here, fuck is used to add emphasis to shut up, which means to stop talking or stop making noise.

22. Fuck up

fuck up is a useless person who hasn’t done anything with his or her life.

23. Who the fuck are you? Offensive

When you add fuck to who are you, you are implying that the person is no one special and that they don’t belong here.

24. Abso-fucking-lutely, de-fucking-licious

You can also add fuck into the middle of words to add emphasis to them.

25. Oprah Fucking Winfrey

You can add fucking in between someone’s first and last name to emphasize that you’re talking about an awesome person.

26. Mother fucker, fuckface, fucktard, fuckstick.

Here are some various names you can call someone that have the word fuck in them. Mother fucker  is considered to be one of the worst names you can call someone.

Fuckface is another word for a cock sucker

Fucktard comes from the word retard.

Fuckstick is another word for dildo

In Conclusion,  the word fuck has so many uses that they all won’t even fit into one post at any one given time! But remember, please be careful when using any of these expressions. Natives grow up learning when it’s appropriate to say these various vulgar expressions and when it’s not okay. If you have to ask yourself whether or not it’s appropriate, the answer is probably fuck no. You don’t have to use fuck to appear fluent, but you need to at least understand it.

Please remember that a lot of people will take offense if you say the word fuck.  While it’s fine to say fuck around your friends, try to avoid saying it to people you don’t know, unless you really don’t give a flying fuck what the think. That being said, many movies you’ll watch and songs you listen to will use the word fuck in its various forms, so it’s important to understand the many different uses.

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If there some uses for fuck that weren’t mentioned here, because I know I didn’t get all of them, please post them in the comments below.