|Old photo swiped from porn name post because I love it.|
To sum it up for you: if he had a porn name it would be Girth Brooks, and since I had to think fast and did not want to be outdone, said I'd be Dolly Farton.
And then he pointed out that that kind of name will just not get you into mainstream porn.
It is always my instinct to be all, "I could too!" Whether I want to or not.
But let's be honest. Even if I were younger, I can't imagine myself in porn, Dolly Farton or no.
Also, even with more time I can't come up with a cleverer name. So there's that.
Anyway, one day we got on the topic of S&M. Not in an exploratory way. Because I am more M&Ms than S&M.
More in a like a "what safe word would you pick" kind of way. And I was all, "Either Brussels sprouts or creme brulee."
And Nick was all, "Those are both two words. It's a safe word. Not a safe compound word. Not a safe phrase."
So I was like, well, does it have to be one word? Well, maybe. Maybe you don't have enough air for two. So then Constantinople would be out as well because it's just too many syllables. You'd want one syllable, two at most. Cake? Fridge? Frodo?
Definitely not Flight of the Conchords. Or Australia, because they have like the top 10 most poisonous animals on the planet. Or something like that. I think. I mean, it is somewhere I would really like to visit. But doesn't fall under my vision of safe as a concept.
(Whereas clearly cake, fridge, and Frodo do.)
At any rate, we didn't really get anywhere with it and I basically forgot about it.
And then a couple months ago, I called Leigh to tell her that I had gotten into a really bad place and that I was getting better. And that she was right about the meds.
My purpose was exactly two-fold. One, I went there, and two, I'm back. Like, "Hey, I took this trip to Paris and now I'm home! Hi!"
So I called and said that I had gone to a very bad place, and she said, "I know."
And I was all, "You know?"
She said, "I knew before you visited. I knew weeks ago."
"One of your posts on Facebook was kind of mean. And you are not mean."
So I said, "Why didn't you tell me?"
Leigh said she didn't feel comfortable. What if I got really angry? What if I didn't think it was her business?
I was all, "If it happens again, please tell me. I need you to tell me."
And she said, "I think what we should do is pick a safe word."
"A safe word?"
"Yes. We pick a safe word, and when I say it, you'll know exactly what I mean."
We haven't yet chosen one, but since breathing is not a factor, I'm thinking along the lines of spaghetti carbonara.