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Friday 15 February 2013

Gay Graffiti


Since when is it okay for everyone EXCEPT Christians to graffiti their opinions all over facebook? Atheists and Agnostics are hogging the newsfeed with all their hateful comments towards Christians (if they don’t believe in God, why do they talk about Him so much, anyways?) and if we dare to comment back we’re deleted, mocked, blocked, yelled at, whatever. I mean, it’s not like I think that Atheists and Agnostics stating their opinions is a horrible, bad thing. It’s more the way they do it that offends me. If I sat on facebook all day and made fun of Atheists, I would be torn to pieces by them, probably have my facebook account confiscated by the facebook Nazis, and be getting hate mail. But you know, Atheists can say whatever they want and it’s okay.
Whatever.
And then there’s all the gay rights stuff. There’s this attitude like, “If you don’t accept gays and love them and support them, you hate them and want them to die”. Really? No, I don’t support people’s decision to be gay. No, I don’t hate them and want them to die. I don’t treat them differently from anyone else in the world.
I took driver’s ed with a lesbian. I was the only girl in class who would talk to her. I sat by her in class, took all the driving sessions with her, and even hung out with her. It was just two girls having fun. So what if she was gay? I am not a homophobe, but I see nothing wrong with being one. I mean, if you AREN’T grossed out by what they do, then…something is wrong. For me, being gay is like smoking. It’s gross, it’s bad for you, and it’s a sin. I hate homosexuality. I hate smoking. I love homosexual people (in a very straight way). I love smokers.
I have been raised believing that no sin is greater than another. I have a quick temper. I sometimes take my own stress and such, out on other people. That’s wrong. Just like homosexuality is wrong. My sin just as bad as theirs, so who am I to judge them and say their damned? Do I think they’re wrong in what they do? Yeah, I do. Do I think I’m wrong in what I do? Absolutely. Saying something is wrong, is different from judging. Judging is damning. Saying something wrong is being opinionated. Everyone is entitled to their opinions.
So yeah, I don’t believe that gays should be able to marry. Just like I don’t believe that I should let my temper go all teen angst on everyone. One last point: You CHOOSE to control your temper. You also choose to control your sexuality. You aren’t born gay. You’re born with the choice of whether or not to be gay. If you choose to, don’t make other people feel like crap for not supporting you. Do you think that people are okay with me being disagreeable? Absolutely not. Do I alienate people that don’t say, “Hey Holly, it’s totally okay for you to be a jerk to everyone and say rude crap all the time”? Uh, no. Because it’s MY wrong attitude and it shouldn’t be accepted.  

Monday 11 February 2013

Happy Me Day



Ladies, Valentine’s Day is approaching. Red and pink hearts are hanging up in all the stores, chocolate sales are at an all time high, and Family Video has rented out the last of their romantic movies to the single cat lady with two pints of triple chocolate ice cream under her arm. Expectations are higher than Fun’s friends, and all the guys are in panic mode, trying to figure out what the heck to get you.
Thanks to all the Zales, Lindor, Kay, Pajamagram, and 1-800-FLOWERS commercials, your man has reached a whole new level of, “I am so confused right now.” Johnny is afraid to get Suzie roses because his last girlfriend dumped him when he got her a dozen roses because she thought it was cheesy. Fred is scarred for life because last year he gave chocolate to a girl he didn’t really know well but thought he might like.  Turns out he doesn’t like her as much as he thought he would and she really thinks he’s sweet and won’t leave him alone.
See where I’m going with this? Valentine’s Day is a losing situation for everyone. Guys are stressing, trying to figure out if or what they should get for the girl they like. And girls are freaking out and pretending to hate Valentine’s Day in hopes that some guy will notice and help them change their minds. BUT KNOW THIS, just because a girl is complaining about the most moronic holiday ever invented DOES NOT mean that she wants you to feel bad for her and get her chocolate (*Wink wink*).
Okay, here’s what I’m proposing. I need your guys’ help too, alright? Let’s break up with Valentine’s Day. Let’s stop making it about the person we like who may or may not like us back. Let’s make it about someone that you KNOW how to please. Someone who’s ALWAYS there for you. Someone who will appreciate whatever kind of chocolate or flowers you get them. Someone who loves you for who you are. Someone who knows you inside and out. Somebody who you absolutely CANNOT live without.
You.

You thought I was going to say Jesus, didn’t you?

Really though, why not take this lame holiday and turn it into a “Happy Chocolate and Netflix Day”? A “Stay in Bed Day” or “Jane Austen Movie Marathon Day”? A day off where you only focus on the deep selfish desires of your amazing self. Sleep in, run down to the nearest Walgreens and buy yourself some chocolate, grab a movie, and stay in your pajamas all day. Eat peanut butter from the jar. Don’t exercise. Don’t answer your phone. It’s simple really. Just do what you want, and put Hallmark out of business. Show them who’s boss.  For years Hallmark has been running our lives, telling us what to do and making up dumb holidays that we feel obligated to celebrate. Let’s just stop. Let’s turn Valentine’s Day into Me Day.
This is a challenge. Take it with me. 

Saturday 27 October 2012

A Car Crash, Sleep Meds, and a Divine Revelation ...


I’m afraid I’ve fallen in love.
With whom? No my dear, it’s “with what?” And the answer is “natural sleep enhancers”. It’s been a long week. After going to the chiropractor’s a while back, and coming home in immense pain and basically losing my mind, my chiropractor said that I needed to get my neck x-rayed before he’d mess with me anymore. I told him at the beginning of the appointment that I had been in a snowmobile accident and my neck had hurt for three weeks after, yet it never occurred to me that it might have been a little more than hurt. So anyhow, I went in for x-rays. Twice. They told me that there’s something growing on my neck. It could be extra bone growth from a previous fracture (such as when I crashed), A cyst (which would make sense because I get cysts on my wrists all the time.), or…..a tumor. Obviously when you’re a dramatic seventeen year old girl, your mind goes to the worst option, settles in it, and you start mentally writing your will. So after I left the office I told my mother “Hey mom, guess what? I might have cancer!” (I’m paraphrasing) so then after the x-ray results were sent to my chiropractor, he’s like; “You need an MRI with contrast so we can rule out the possibility of it being a tumor.”
Let me just say this: I AM FREAKING TERRIFIED OF NEEDLES. When my mother told me I had to get an MRI, I felt as if I could throw up. When I told my best guy friend, Jon, about it, he actually did throw up. I guess that’s what it means to be worried sick.
So that’s when my week started getting stressful. My MRI is on Halloween. Cool right? Yeah, I get to have a needle shoved in my arm, and get locked in a tube for an hour, ON Halloween. Thankfully I have medication to sedate me significantly.
I still cannot even begin to explain how awful those first two days of worrying were. Oh and this is where the sleep enhancers come into play. Yeah, I found out that they calm me down. Hallelujah. I’ve been slathering on the sleep balm religiously.
Anyhow, on my third day of worrying, I volunteered at a Young Life banquet at the fairgrounds with my friends from Bible Study. We were the cleanup crew and after cleaning up we all got in our respective cars and started leaving. One of my friends was driving his mom’s awesome car and he did this sick burnout in front of me. I saw this as a challenge. I also thought it’d be fun to blow off some steam seeing as my stress levels were at an all time high. So I spun out and followed him. After peeling out onto the main road I thought I’d pass him because the road was deserted. He was going way too fast though and I knew I’d have to go way over the speed limit to catch him, something I wasn’t willing to do. So I started slowing down and driving normal when I lost control. It felt like someone grabbed my steering wheel and turned it sharp to the left and then the right over and over again. A car drove by and I begged God to not let me hit them. Then suddenly I was flying towards the ditch. I remember bracing my arms on the steering wheel to hold myself as far away from the air bag as possible. I knew this ditch (which was in front of the fairgrounds still, I didn’t make it very far) was relatively deep and when I hit it, I would either die or I would break my neck the rest of the way and total the car.  Cool huh? The last thing I thought before I jumped the curb and landed in the ditch was, “My life hasn’t flashed before my eyes yet….I thought that was supposed to happen when you’re getting ready to die?!”
 Then it was over. I felt my car jump the curb and land in the ditch, I braced myself, strangely enough I didn’t scream, and it was over. I shut the car off and jumped out. At first I thought all my friends had left but then my friends Hannah, Nathan, and Matt were behind this eight foot fence on the other side of the ditch. They yelled at me to sit down and not move, then Matt jumped over the fence (I’m telling you, it was a super tall fence) like a ninja (which was really awesome considering that he’s scared of heights) and Nathan and Hannah ran around the fence. Matt demanded that I sit down and so I sat in the ditch and flopped on my back. Then I realized….my parents. They’re going to kill me. I think I murmured that several times before Hannah and Bizzy were there and they started trying to talk me down. I was hysterical, shaking, and then suddenly the whole cleanup crew was there. All I really remember was running around my car freaking out, the rain starting up, telling Matt to pinch me just to make sure it was real, trying to call my mom, Jon showing up out of nowhere looking like he was going to throw up again (Yeah, I put the kid through a lot this week…), and then….the cop showed up. Now, I have a great respect for police officers. My neighbor is one and I’m just like, don’t move away! Ever! I feel safe now! But at the same time, a cop is the last thing you want to see after you just wrecked your mom’s car.  Actually…your mom is the last thing you want to see after you wreck her car. You know what I mean though.
By the time the cop got there, the guys (Matt, Nathan, Corey, Mark, Jon, and whoever else I might be forgetting…I was really out of it) had got my car back on the road and changed one of the tires. One or two were coming off the rims and the front driver’s side tire was flat as a pancake. So the cop pulls over and he asks what the heck we’re doing. Someone explained, he yells some more, and then he says he’ll be back in a minute. While he’s gone, I break free of my girlfriends and rip the “Nobama Nomore” magnet off my back bumper just in case the cop is an Obama supporter (anything to calm him down). Then the man comes walking over. I can see the steam pouring out of his ears and the fire coming out of his nostrils. I felt like I was going to pass out and I mumbled something about getting arrested to which Corey replied, “Holly, your tire blew. It wasn’t your fault. You weren’t driving recklessly when it happened.” It was as if a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I had a chance. Maybe he wouldn’t arrest me.
So the officer, seeing that I was in no shape to explain what was going on, because I didn’t know, started questioning my friends. He basically asked Hannah if I was drunk (understandable had you seen me at the time) and then he asked for my license (After he chewed us out about changing tires on the road and the fact that my friends had all parked in the road behind me). So I gave him my license and he asked me for my insurance and registration. I told him that I would look for it but it’d probably take me a few minutes because I’d never been pulled over before so I wasn’t sure what it looked like. He said it wasn’t funny and I should darn well know where it is. Then Corey shouts, “I’ve been pulled over hundreds of times! I’ll find it!” to which the cop again replies, “That isn’t funny.”
Long story short, after pulling my car into a parking lot nearby, the cop gave me my stuff back and said he was going to let me go. My car was okay besides the tires so no accident report was needed and he wasn’t going to give me a ticket because technically the accident was not my fault. I all but fell to the ground and kissed his feet. The worst was over.
Oh wait. No it wasn’t. I still had to face my parents.
When I told them, my mother didn’t know what else to do so she burst in to hysterical laughter (much like she does when she’s in immense pain) and my father stared off into space not saying anything, yet at times, trying not to look somewhat amused.
I actually did learn a lesson from all this. A few actually.
One- I’m going to drive like a grandma for the rest of my life.
Two- I have the best friends EVER. They stayed with me the whole time, taking care of me and the car, and dealing with the officer, IN THE RAIN.  They’re flat out amazing people and I don’t know what I would do without them. <3
Three- God does have a plan for my life. I know, I’ve heard it a thousand times. You’ve heard it a thousand times. God has a plan. God has a plan. God has a plan. I heard it, rejoiced in it, and never understood it fully until God visibly saved my life that night. When I crashed, I literally felt as if I was being held. Protected. And Hannah pointed out to me later that I was a mere two feet away from hitting some sort of electrical box that would’ve killed me when I jumped out of my car, if not, before. And just the way that the car landed in the ditch perfectly so that it wasn’t dented anywhere. That was a God thing. The way I didn’t hit the car coming toward me? Yeah, that was a God thing too. It was as if God let me go through something terrifying to wake me up and say, in a Haymitch sort of way for all my Hunger Games groupies, “Hey sweetheart, wake up. Stop wasting your time. Do something. Move.” Up until Thursday, my world basically revolved around me. I lived for myself. Now I don’t feel that way. What am I going to do with my life now? Well it’s not my life. Its God’s life, He gave it to me. Now I’m going to give it back. Those who find their lives, lose them. Those who lose their lives, find them. Let’s just say that I think I lost my life Thursday night at around 10:15.
Oh, and you know what else? I’m not worried about the MRI anymore. I feel like, after Thursday, this will be a piece of cake. God was obviously with me when I crashed and he’s obviously going to be with me when I’m locked in a tube. With a needle in my arm. On Halloween.

Wednesday 15 August 2012

First World Problem #35,861

First world problem #35,861: Cliques. No, I’m not saying I think cliques are a bad thing. I love cliques, really, I do. After all, what could possibly be wrong with forming a group of super cool elite people and standing in a super tight circle and not letting anyone else in? Oh wait. That’s not a clique, that’s a country club.
Really though. I’m honestly so sick of people complaining about cliques. I mean yeah, sometimes it’s annoying when you have to know the secret password of awesomeness just to be able to sit at their feet and worship them while they make fun of you, but I haven’t known a lot of cliques like that. For the most part, a clique is not a super secret group that is trying to block everyone else out. Usually it’s a group of people that really enjoy each other and maybe are too shy to reach out to anyone besides the others in their clique or as I like to call it, “Group”. I guess if you’re super shy, then yeah…groups can be intimidating. Really, I’m not trying to be a jerk or anything (okay, so maybe I am) but just GET OVER YOURSELF and go join in! What are they gonna do? Tell you to go away? Yeah right. People aren’t that horrible. Most the time. I have to admit, I’ve been in many a clique and I’m pretty sure only one of them was super elite (but I was like…a seven year old so…). All the other “cliques” I’m in that aren’t really cliques, are just a group of people that I happen to be having a conversation with at the time. I mean, come on guys, this is such a middle school problem. If you can’t handle it, how are you going to grow up?
Pretend you’re thirty. You’re a super successful business man or woman. You walk into the lunch room and you see that all your co-workers/employees are talking…in groups. What are you gonna do? Run out of the room crying that no one likes you because they didn’t all run up to you at the same time begging to start a conversation? Or be the mature adult you should be and pick a group and join in? It’s not like they’re going to eat you. If they ignore you, try the next group. Get used to rejection. It’s not always a bad thing.
I remember joining a drama group when I was about 13. I was one of about 20 new girls and guys, among about 40 seasoned actors. I was terrified. It took me forever to get over the fact that people weren’t going to drag me into their circles and force me to talk to them. And the few times that someone did (*Cough* Autie and Ella), I usually played it tough and pretended I was too good for them. Yeah, I was ridiculous. If I could redo my early teen years…well…I can’t, so never mind. Anyways it took me a while to learn that you just have to wiggle your way into the circle and OH MY GOSH participate in the conversation. Terrifying I know, but if you don’t then you’re going to regret it. Probably. Maybe.
Just…just don’t be the kid in the corner looking all sullen and pouty. Okay? It’s not the cliques’ fault that you’re too chicken to go say hi.

Monday 13 August 2012

I'm single and I know it.....

So a few days ago I wrote a blog about how I’m not dating until I’m eighteen and yadda yadda. Inspiring right? But you know it’s easy to say “Oh I’m doing this you should do it too and be perfect like me” and crap, but it’s way harder to actually practice what I’m yelling at you guys.
Picture me in my car driving to the beach all happy and single and free with the wind blowing my frizzy blonde hair in my face, I’m singing along to One Direction’s “One Thing”. I pull into the parking lot and step out of my car, pick a perfect place on the beach and I sit down. By myself. Then I hear laughing and I look up, there’s a couple walking hand in hand with their feet barely touching the ground as they’re walking along. He says something sweet, she blushes, and they walk past. Out in the water there’s an old couple splashing each other with water like silly twelve year olds. Over to my right there are some kids that are way too young to be dating that are flirting and being stupid. I shake my head and lay back in the hot sand. Then I have an idea! Why not block out the sounds of all the happy couples around me? So I turn on Pandora. Alas, they play songs like “I’m yours” by Jason Mraz, “Roman Candle” by Fun, and a bunch of other cute sweet romantic songs. Inside myself, I just…I just…I curl up and die. I get up (all the seagulls around me flap their wings nervously) and I let out an agonizing scream, “WILL YOU GUYS JUST STOP IT ALREADY?!?!”All the happy couples turn around to look at me, the lonely girl on the beach. They frown. I turn beet red and sit back down. My phone goes off. It’s a text. I get all excited. But…it’s from Meijer. It’s a coupon for 60% off my next bottle of Crest 3D Whitening toothpaste. Yay.  I look up seeing that the couples have resumed whatever they were doing before and I sigh. I hear foot steps behind me. It’s a super cute guy. He’s walking towards me, he smiles. I smile shyly and twirl my hair around my finger. Then I hear a girl squeal as she runs to the guy and throws her arms around him. Then…I grab my car keys and leave. Alone. By myself. Alone. Lonely. Single. And most of all? Confused.
Okay, so that didn’t really happen. I mean, it has. All at different times. Oh, and I never yelled at them. I’m not this bold in person. With strangers. But I am confused. I mean, why do I want what I know I shouldn’t have? It’s stupid. Why do I want a relationship when it’s probably going to end with me sobbing my eyes out for two weeks? I think I’m mature enough to handle it. I’m probably not. I think I could probably make a guy pretty happy. That’s not the point. I have great self control. It doesn’t matter. I know inside….I think inside…maybe inside…I’m not ready. I’ve got a lot of things to work on. For one thing, I am the jealous type. All the way. It’s awful. If I had a boyfriend, and he looked at another girl, my eyes would turn from sparkly oceany blue, to Shrek green. I would probably have to fight off the urge to claw her face off. Also, I’m maybe kind of a little bit attention oriented. Ouch. That hurt to admit. I like getting compliments. However, I need to be able to make a relationship work WITHOUT them! What if I end up with a quiet guy (which I probably will because I don’t like loud obnoxious guys)? What if he rarely EVER builds me up? I need to be able to be confident in the fact he loves me without fishing for sweet nothings. I mean, they’re called sweet nothings for a reason, right? Basically, I have a lot I need to work on before I’m ready for a relationship. Still, I want one. NOW. And the obvious good little Christian homeschool girl answer for me should be, “So I decided to get so lost in God that I don’t even want a boyfriend anymore!” But I already am lost in God. It’s not working. So then I tried music. I mean, I’ve been trying music for most my life but I mean I tried to let that fill the guy hole in my wee little heart. Yeah, that didn’t work either. So I’m sitting here writing this thinking, “Dude, snap out of it. What’s wrong with you?” I’VE TRIED EVERYTHING!
God
Coffee
Music
Coffee
Blogging
Coffee
Working out
Coffee
Chocolate
Coffee
Cooking
Coffee
Making more girl friends to hang out with
Coffee
Making imaginary friends to hang out with when the above fell through
Coffee
Flat out trying not to think about guys at all
Coffee
Laying out in the sun for hours while my skin burned, only thinking about how much physical pain I was in, instead of what kind of emotional pain I was in
And coffee…
Yeah, I’ve tried a lot of things, okay? Why am I so desperate? I feel like freaking Taylor Swift here! I officially hate watching movies because I’m sick of seeing so many happy people!
So I’m waiting. I’m waiting. I’m sticking it out. I’m not giving up. No matter what, because this will be worth it and the right guy will come along. Hopefully not on a white horse because…I’m terrified of horses. And when he does come along, I’ll be ready. Or maybe by then I’ll be dragging my feet, who knows.
Sometimes I hate being a teenage girl.

Friday 10 August 2012

The one about dating....

Does anyone else’s Facebook newsfeed look like this?
 Jane Doe is in a relationship. 42 minutes ago.
Comment                12  Like
Jane Doe is single. 3 minutes ago.
324 Comment                5 Like
Jane Doe: Guys are soooooo stewpid. Omg, I can’t beliveeee I wastid my time with himmm. Smh. Text meeeeee. #YOLO
            
And “Jane Doe” is like, fourteen? Three things go through my mind when I see something like that.
One—For the love of spell check…..USE IT.
Two--Why the HECK is a fourteen year old dating anyways? I mean, what do they do, beg their mommies to drive them to see High School Musical 5? What’s the point? I don’t know anyone who’s met THE ONE and dated since they were practically children. If that’s happened before, then GREAT! Good for you. Really though, 99.5% of the time you’re just going to end up crying your eyes out for three days, posting statuses like, “I don’t even care…”, “Why can’t you love me for who I am?” and, “Someday I’ll find a boy who treats me like I deserve.” FOR CRYING OUT LOUD HE IS A FOURTEEN YEAR OLD BOY!  WHAT DO YOU EXPECT?!?!
Girls: Most (not all) guys’ maturity levels are two years behind the girls their age. If you’re stupid enough to date when you’re both 14 give or take a few years, he’s NOT going to be thinking about what you guys are going to name your first child like you are. I’m sorry.
Guys: Fourteen year old girls think they know everything. They are loud and obnoxious and annoying. I would know. I was one. They just want to be told they’re beautiful and a bunch of other cliché things, but when you tell them…they won’t believe you. Don’t waste your breath. If they say, “I’m ugly.” Change the subject.
Guys and Girls: Be kids while you can. That’s what I’m doing. I’m seventeen and I’m so happy to say that I haven’t wasted my time being in a relationship, and guess what? I’m not going to be until after I’m eighteen because I honestly believe that it would be a waste of time! Why? Because I have a few amazing friends and an amazing family, and I don’t want to miss hanging out with them! I don’t want a whiny boyfriend begging me to be with him every second of everyday! There will be plenty of time for that later. If you want to avoid heartbreak and long sleepless nights, I suggest waiting. Just be friends, you can find out what you want in a guy just by being friends with guys or vice versa. Make a list of qualities (Not physical qualities.) that you want in a guy/girl. That’s what I did, in fact…here, take a peek:
What I want need in a guy…
I need him to love God and have strong faith
He must have good strong morals
I need to love his parents and I need him to love mine
I need him to be kind of laidback…you know, to balance out my psycho-ness
I need him to be adventurous and active

There, see? Not too hard. This makes it easy when you think you might be interested in someone. If they don’t have the important qualities on the list…ditch them. The person I mean…not the qualities.
And I mean, obviously you’re going to be attracted to people at a young age, but if you really care about a guy/girl, just pray for them. Just sit back and wait, be friends. Wait until you’re old enough and mature enough to make it actually work.
Three—Blaming the whole entire male/female population for one silly boy’s/girl’s mistake, is ludicrous. This is what it looks like, “One boy/girl broke my heart so now all guys/girls are jerks but yet in three days I’m gonna get over it and hook up with someone else.”
Girl/Dude…the only person you should be lovin’ on is Jesus, because He’s the ONLY ONE who will NEVER let you down. Just let Him hold your heart until the right one comes along. How will you know when he/she comes along? Ask God. It’s not like He’s going to hold you back. Unless you aren’t ready. And for the record…if you’re fourteen…you aren’t ready.
Love,
Your Forever Opinionated Coffee Addict

Friday 3 August 2012

Fifty Shades of Ew...


You know how I occasionally put warnings before my more opinionated and offensive blog posts? Well here’s your warning. I will not apologize for writing this. This is simply my opinion on a series of books. I’m not trying to start some online debate, I’m not telling YOU what to do, I’m telling you what I’VE decided to do and why I decided to do it.
Okay let’s get down to it, what is Fifty Shades of Grey and how the heck do I know about it? Well, it’s on the news like…every day, everyone’s buzzing about it, bookstores can’t keep enough copies stocked to satisfy the craving, I mean what’s up with this? I hadn’t heard of this book until one of my coworkers started telling me about it. So I did a little research about this series, Fifty Shades of Grey (It cracks me up how the second book is called Fifty Shades Darker. As if it could get any darker.) Basically what it is, in case you’re lucky enough to not know, is this book about a girl who falls for a guy and its dark and pornographic and blah blah blah X rated stuff. Luckily my mind hasn’t been scarred by details, but people I know who’ve read it said that it literally made them blush. BREAKING DAWN MADE ME BLUSH. Which is why I never finished it. But go back for a second, people I know read this? Yeah, people I care about and considered great people (most of them are active Christians too) are reading this book. What the heck?
Ladies, lets pause here. If you’ve ever caught your guy looking at porn on the internet or wherever, you’d be mad as a hornet. Correct? So why are you READING porn? It’s the same thing! Whether you’re reading it or staring at pictures of it, it’s doing the same thing to your mind. And what if reading about this “hot, mysterious, dark guy” in the book makes you unsatisfied with your man? Don’t you realize that you could be destroying your own relationship? What about respecting his feelings? Yeah he might not voice it, but if he read the book too he might not feel like he measures up to your little fantasy prince.
Single ladies that are reading this, NO GUY YOU DATE IS GOING TO BE A PERFECT STORY BOOK PRINCE CHARMING! Reading the book is setting your expectations on a level that’s totally unrealistic and well…crude.
Why am I not reading this? I’ll give you 7 reasons.
1.      Um, it’s probably illegal because I’m under 18.
2.      I’m a virgin okay? I’m saving myself for my husband. I’m not going to have sex before I get married, so why would I want to read about it? Just sayin’.
3.      Jesus specifically talks about adultery in the Bible. He says that even looking at someone lustfully (yeah that includes reading) is committing adultery in your heart. Even if I’m not married yet, someday I will be (maybe) and I don’t want to have committed mental adultery with some other dude. Even if he is just a fictional character.
4.      I don’t want my man to hang up porn in his garage so why would I hang up porn in my mind?
5.      Last time I checked, sex was supposed to be between a married man and woman. Not plastered on the pages of a hideously disgusting novel.
6.      If my mother found that book on my night stand….she would kill me. Literally kill me.
7.      I have a relatively pure, innocent, clean mind and uh, I’d kind of really like it to stay that way.

There are your reasons. Not your reasons, my reasons.