Secret... Monday.

Happy Monday, my Secret Church Parishioners!

Since in the US we were granted an extra weekend day, Secret Church is getting to you a little late, as I was celebrating Sunday by watching an exorcism film, as you do.

"The Possession" did not satiate my horror needs.

The basic storyline - during a period of 29 days, a girl goes a little bonkers, wherein the most frightening things she does involve eating raw meat in front of a fridge and weeping to herself, consistently looking like she's about to vomit, and wishing for the teeth of men who piss her off to just fall out.

Puhlease.  Child's Play.

Her allegedly demonic acts were among the most benevolent of mine during a hormonally charged period of 29 days.

Change the name to "The Clomid", call it a documentary and then call me.

By popular demand of last week's vote, I shall tell you the story of how I slept with Bubba two hours after I met him.

Keep in mind, I was 21, my father had just died, and I had no real interest in getting into a relationship - just wasn't my style - and marriage wasn't something I thought I'd ever end up in.

So a few months before I met Bub, a psychic (I know, don't judge me) who had always given me accurate, freaky accurate information, and lived hundreds of miles from either one of us, said without any prompt, "you're going to marry a man, and his name will be..." Okay, let's say my husbands name was Bubba Jones (it isn't).  That psychic said "You're going to meet and marry a guy named Bubba.... wait, it sounds like Bones, it rhymes with Bones".  (Keep in mind my husband's name in reality is SUPER unusual and that makes the rhyming part even more impressive).  So I did what any girl not wanting a relationship would do, and went on a crazy ass dating spree with anyone who was NOT named 'Bubba'.  

I even signed on to match.com to get a few dates.  So I contacted a guy, or he contacted me (can't remember) and we started writing emails and going back and forth and we were exactly.  alike.  How we saw the world, our religious beliefs, our political reliefs, we found the same things funny... So I gave him my phone number.  He called in December of 03 and left me a message (I was visiting here, not where I lived on the east coast). On the phone he introduced himself as 'Bubba'.  Soooo, cue a slight panic attack.  

It took me a couple of weeks to get over that, having told myself repeatedly that 'Bubba' was a very common name and that does not mean that this was who she was talking about.  Plus, I really liked this guy who I had never met.

So eventually I called him back - and after several phone conversations that ran wellll into the night, making me late for work, classes, etc., we set up a date for a Friday.  He lived in the state bordering mine, so he drove to me. 

When he arrived, I was still upstairs in my Mom's house getting ready - so technically he's known my Mom for about 20 minutes longer than he's known me.

When I first saw him, I was done for.  He was gorgeous.  I know people say this about their husbands, but he was gor. geous.  He drove me to the movie theatre, we got drunk in the parking lot, and by the time the movie started (Big Fish), we were all over each other.  It took every bit of strength not to leave the movie, but I made him sit through the movie because you know, I'm a lady. ;)

And in the middle of making out, on theme with being a lady, I asked him what his last name was - and he said the one that the psychic predicted.  But at that point, I didn't care.

So then we went to the first available place to do it - and before we did I said "I don't do one night stands" and he said "Me either" and then we were off to the races.  And boy did we mean it - I moved in with him 2 weeks later;  it's been almost 9 years and we're still humping.  Apart from this bum reproductive thing, I often feel so lucky that I half expect him to one morning wake up, decide that he's had his fill of this one night stand, and scoot on over to his now 2,000 mile away old home.

From Lame Revenge Seeker (her words!):

I've never told anyone this secret, not even my husband, because... well honestly if someone told me they did this I would judge them a little.  When I was in college, I got dumped by a guy had been dating for a couple months.  He happened to be the guy I gave up my V card to, so I was a little bitter.  So what's a girl going to do to get a little revenge?  Apparently this was the best I could come up with: I went to his house at 6am on a Sunday morning while everyone was still asleep and took a picture of his Jeep parked in the driveway, went to my college campus computer lab and made a flyer saying the Jeep was for sale for $1000 and put his name and phone number on it, printed out 75 copies of it, and taped them up all over campus.  When I ran into his roommate the next day, she told me about the flyers and said he had been getting calls all day and I acted completely shocked and wondered out loud who would have done that.  I have no idea who he thought did this or if he ever even suspected it was me.  Oh, and while I'm spilling embarrassing secrets that I will take to my grave, from ages 14-16 I was part of a Renaissance troupe that traveled around to Renaissance fairs.  

From B:

When I was in high school, I had a really strange guy in my homeroom in 11th grade.  He said extremely off-the-wall things to me and the people I hung out with.  On pajama day, he showed up in basketball shorts with stains on them.  I don't mean kool-aid stains, I mean it was a crusty white stain.  It set off my gag reflexes.  There was one day he asked a friend of mine, "When you gonna let me hit that?"  I didn't much care for that sort of talk to my friends so my best friend & I started writing him anonymous love letters in which he responded to.  It was the ultimate revenge.  He wrote some really dirty things in his letters & not only did he propose to this "anonymous girl", he also wrote a duet song for her.  Finally one day I happened to notice he was going to the special education classes.  I felt so awful & guilty and I still do.  This is my ultimate secret that has reserved me a special place in hell.

From Aspgriswold at Growing Griswolds:

I have a secret. I'm not sure if it counts really but it's a thing about me that not a lot of people know about. So, I think that labels it a secret. I don't have a uvula. The hanging-ball thing most people have in their throat. I don't got one. :) 

I had my tonsils taken out when I was in highschool. That is when I parted with my dear uvula. The surgeon got a little scalpel happy. At least that is what I like to think. Damn surgeons.

From Arwen at MRKH Musings:

As a still relative newly wed I am still at the keep the mystery stage. My hubs is a flatulent man. If I need to let one go I bide my time and wait (usually only minutes) till he farts then I sneak mine out quietly on the sly! Masked by his I always get away with it!

From SM at Unexplained Rantings:

I once had sex in the women's bathroom of a church. K (the hubs) and I were at the wedding of his cousin. On the way over, we got to talking about sex. We talk about sex a lot. This time we talked about the weirdest places to have sex. Then we realized that we had never had sex in an odd place. Our lives were not complete! Fast forward to reception time. K looks over at me during a lull in the conversation at the table and I just sort of know what he wants. So I excuse myself to the bathroom and K follows a few minutes later. Now, I thought we would sneak off through the church and find a really good place like behind the pulpit or in the sound booth but K didn't want to wait the five seconds it would take to find a better place then the bathroom. So it happened right there. Against the bathroom stall. It was awesome. No one surprisingly caught us but I do think the people at our table knew something was up when we came back slightly disheveled and basking in the afterglow. But who cares? I was happy!

From AnonyMom:

I'm not the only one to share a sex story, so here goes....My ex boyfriend and I were much more adventurous than my husband and I are...well than my husband is...I would  still totally get down and dirty or funky or whatevs, but my husband just a little inhibited...Taking risks was what made things even hotter...so when we were on vacation with my parents and my sister, her husband and their one year old child, in a small 2 bedroom cottage, we were assigned SEPARATE air mattresses on the floor in the common room. They didn't stay separated for long. One night things got heated, and we took it on the to front porch just as a thunderstorm was blowing in over the lake (for some reason thunderstorms turn me on, I'm weird OK)...it was probably the hottest sex I've ever had, and partly because it was risky both with my famliy less than 20 feet away and the fact that we could have been struck by lightening or the tree next to us could have been.... I still get a little frisky when a storm is blowing in, and my husband is willing to comply as long as we're inside a formidable structure....

So. Much. Brilliance.

Send in your secrets for next week while you're thinking of it, wusses!

Secret Sunday: The Return

Happy weekend, darlings!

Put on a ridiculously feathered hat and pray that Oprah forgives you your sins, it's Secret Sunday.

My secret is that today, thinking I was taking my thyroid medication, I instead took an ambien.  So the chances of my brain functioning properly (or even remembering that I wrote this post) is looking grim.

And so, this week we shall mix things up and have you vote on what story I shall share with you next Sunday, when my brain is not fuzzy and drunk.

1.)  What dirty deed I performed on someone wearing a dog suit.

2.)  How I slept with my husband 2 hours after I met him.

3.) A bisexual college experience.

4.)  My one mortifying food poisoning experience (on my honeymoon, no less).

5.)  How I saw a man's head split open on a pool table, at a strip joint.

Pick your poison!

And now, the delectable secrets of others.


From the lovely EmHart at Follow Every Rainbow:
All my secrets seem to involve sex, and not with my husband. I am not sure what that says about me, but there you go. We have another drama school era one this week I am afraid, it is a rich hunting ground. This is really rather more of a useful tip for all you ladies than anything else. You see I had fancied, lets call him Chaz, for about a year, and had made several unsuccessful attempts to get into his pants, but I seemed somehow to have friend zoned myself. One evening we were heading out to celebrate J.R's birthday and we ended up at the strip club that several of my dancer buddies worked at. It was quite fun really and I got chatting to a lovely stripper who was an estate agent by day, stripped by night and intended to retire at forty, the girl had a plan! She offered me a sample lap dance for free, just because I was curious and she liked me. So I had my dance, which was rather odd, but quite sexy all the same. Afterwards I headed back to the lads house for more partying. Hoorah, I ended up finally finding my way into Chaz's pants and I am convinced it was in no small part to the fact he had sat enthralled watching me get a lap dance from the lovely stripper earlier in the evening. So girls, when you just can't bag that man, get him to a strip joint and he will be putty in your hands.  True story, top tip.


From awesome Jen at My Bum Ovaries:
I tried marijuana, at the ripe old age of 29, for the FIRST TIME just this month. I wasn't going to while TTC, but my journey is going absolutely nowhere any time soon, so I figured what the hell? Lately my thinking has been "I already tried playing my cards right for 29 years and that apparently doesn't work so let's try having more fun and being a little irresponsible." And it was really fun! :)

From gorgeous Kristin at Return to Go:
When I was six, I travelled to the majestic Rocky Mountains for the first time of many. It was a ski vacation scheduled mid-year through my Kindergarten year. I fell in love with my ski instructor, I thought we would be married. I fell in love with skiing, it is much easier when you are four feet tall. And I fell in love with the mountains. Sigh. But that isn't my secret. I was battling a nasty sinus infection of sorts. One morning I woke up and my face felt incredibly stiff. I couldn't quite figure out what was going on. Upon visiting the loo and checking the mirror, I found out that my nose had run through the night and a combination of snot and blood had pooled on my face and hardened on my face. The snot formed a bit of a mask in the area around my nose. It was gross. I didn't tell anyone. I used a wet, warm washcloth to soften the snot mask and wipe it from my face. You're welcome.


From the Bird Innocence Project:
When I was 4 years old I went to pre-school. They had a pet bird who they sent home every weekend with a different kid’s family. When it was our turn I was so freaking excited, I set the cage on a table outside. Then I opened the door and watched the little bird fly away. I knew this was not a good thing so I threw the cage onto the ground, made sure the door stayed open, then ran inside screaming “Mum!!! The dog knocked over the bird cage and the bird GOT OUT!!!!!” My Mum was beyond embarrassed at having to take an empty cage back to pre-school on Monday. I only admitted what I’d done  a few months ago- 27 years after the fact. Luckily she saw the humor in it by then.

From My Naughty Soldier:
My husband was in the Army for 5 years and I loved to see him in his uniform. It was a major turn on. So when it was time for some adult fun I would make him leave the pants and boots on and do it like that. Just seeing him with it on was so effin hot that I couldn't keep my hand off him! Sometimes I make him put it on for old times sake :)


From Jenny (who has to be awesome because of that name) at Sprout:
Before my husband and I were married, we were going to have a vacation together.  But money was a little tight and we were trying to cut costs.  He asked his mother if we could use her RV, thus avoiding hotel and restaurant bills.  We even offered to pay her a weekly rate for it, but she refused.  The reason:  she didn't want us having sex in it.  (Probably because she thought of me as a whore.  Yes, she actually called me that.)  She did, however, lend us her lovely new Cadillac.  And guess what we did in the backseat of it on a deserted stretch of road in New Mexico.  I did have that whore label to live up to, you know.  ;)  (Btw, backseat sex in your future mother-in-law's car is surprisingly hot.  I know it sounds wrong, but there you have it.)

You've just been Churched.

Now grow a pair next time and send one in!

Secret Sunday: The Trilogy

Happy Sunday, my fellow ovarian gimps!

It is Saturday as I write this and I have just survived a surprise visit from my Grandma - the cleanliest woman in the world.

So many visits in the house of Stork.  Today sneaky Grandma, tomorrow or Monday step-father in law (is that a thing?  He is an awesome stepfather-in-law, not of the evil variety) and Monday the sister-in-law (also of the awesome variety).

Enough with silly visits.

Strap on your very best Easter Mary-Janes and hide your boner in a Holy Book, it's Secret Sunday.

Having spent the day being gassed by fumes coming out of my fridge, I was admittedly stumped for what my secret today would be.  I asked the soon-to-be-west sister in lawlessness what the weirdest thing I had ever told her was - and she said "didn't you throw dirty tampons at a girl?"

Oh yesssss I did.

Okay, well I didn't throw them at her but I did put them in her backpack.

And before you go picturing me as one of the girls in the opening scene of Carrie, let me assure you she deserved it.

Of all the bad things you can say about Stupid Stork (I'm chubby, I am incapable of a tan, my eyes are ginormous and my left boob is noticeably bigger than the right) you cannot accuse me of being uncreative.

So, I had what you could I guess call a "high school sweetheart" -  the guy I dated from 8th grade to 10th grade, my first love.


I met him as I started 8th grade as the 'new kid'.  I had lived in this east-coast town from kindergarten to 5th grade, then lived in Mexico City, Mexico for two years, and returned for 8th grade.  So there were definitely some kids I knew from Elementary School, but to most of them I was 'new'.


I had never met - let's call him Kevin - before, so I was unaware that he was a big deal.  He was cute, pretty funny and asked me out.  So I said yes.  There were a gaggle of girls in junior high who I didn't know, but who instantly disliked me because of this.


One of them was so bent out of shape over it, that a month into my 'relationship' with Kevin she did three things:

1. She grabbed his crotch in P.E. and licked his earlobe. Repeatedly.
2. She told people I probably had some weird Mexican STD.
3. When confronted about this by one of my friends, she said "what's that bugeyed freak going to do about it?"

I was told about this by multiple reliable sources.  I attempted to brush it off, but the last straw came when  she body checked me in the hallway.  As we established in a previous secret, I do not enjoy pushing.  My creativity was lit aflame when I noted during said body check that she had a hideously bright turquoise backpack with keychains hanging off the zipper.

My friend Ro and I were both on our periods.  (Come to think of it - Ro was also the one who, after finding out I had gotten my first period, went home and drew in her underpants.  We are connected by menstruation).  

We decided to be late to our class during the offending girl's gym period.  We went into the locker room after they were clearly already in the gym (she, probably off somewhere hitting on my boyfriend), and used the toilets.  We both removed our own tampons, and for good measure emptied out the special lady-boxes in the stalls of any tampons or pads we could find.  We then stuffed them into the small pocket of her stupid backpack.

I was later told that she went to media studies class, retrieved a pencil and they all fell out onto the ground. Word spread, and when people passed her in the hallway they dramatically plugged their noses. 

When a girl asked me if I had anything to do with it, I said "what's that fish-stinking freak going to do about it?"

This week's are amazing.  

From B:

I was a preschool teacher for 8 years.  I worked with infants to six year-old children but for the most part, I was in the two & three year-old room.  I've had many, many bad children over those years pass through my room due to not-so-great parenting.  One of them really sticks out.  It was a little boy who terrorized all the other children, threw fits every hour he was there, and made me want to pull my hair out.  There was one day he stood next to our mini toilet & pooped next to it while looking at me the whole time.  One day when I had enough, I waited until he fell asleep on the little cot, hovered my bum in the air over him, & farted on his head.  

From AnonyMom:

I pick my daughter's nose...yes thats right. If I see a bat in that cave, I'll go spelunking to get it out...no child of mine is going to have a boog prairie dogging with each breath. So yes, I pick my daughter's nose. And as I do it, I always say, "you can pick your friends and you can pick your nose, but you can't pick your friend's nose....HA WATCH ME! Don't ever tell me I can't do something." And then I dig in...and no I don't pick and flick or anything gross like that...I wipe on a baby wipe or on a tissue....or my husband's sleeve which ever is closer.

From The House Elf:

I have this thing where I like to think I have a magic food cupboard. When I’m making a snack (and I’m home alone….) I like to prepare whatever it is I’m going to eat, let’s say toast, and then I put it on the plate I’m going to eat it off- while the plate is still in the cupboard- and close the door. I pretend I didn’t put the snack in the cupboard and I go and get a drink or cutlery or whatever…………….. then I go back to the cupboard and “poof!” there’s my snack already prepared. I have been doing this for years, I know it is totally weird and I am fully aware I should probably get some sort of therapy for it but for some reason I think it’s awesome

From the Little Lover:

I've been reading and watching A Game of Thrones recently. A couple weeks ago, I had a sexy dream about Tyrion Lannister. He's the last person I would expect to have that kind of dream about. There are quite a few sexy men on that show that are more my type. However, the sex was really mind-blowing!!! Ever since then, I have been thinking about what it would be like to be with a Little Person. Particularly Tyrion Lannister. I have nothing against Little People (although my mind used to revert to Umpa Lumpas). I have never fantasized about one - until now (not Umpa Lumpas, just Little People)!

From Arwen Rose at mrkhmusings :

On our recent trip to D.C. - a trip down memory lane to where we met and first became friends - hubs and I got pretty tipsy, aka horny, and had sex on the Mall, right by the reflecting pool! It was dark and I was discreetly sitting on his lap skirted but oopsie totally illegal but incredibly hot!!

From K at LaughingwithIF:

So the husband is a mechanic, and we were going to a Hockey game right after work, but were feeling a little randy (and the Stick God told me we were prime baby making time) so we decided to act like we were 16 again. We drove over to his companies "overflow" lot - basically where they put all the extra cars for sale they can't fit on their main lot. This lot is normally DEAD.

So we get to doing our business and I'm a little weirded out but what the Stick God says is LAW in our house. So literally 2 second after we finish and begin putting our clothes back on, a car pulls up in the spot BESIDE us and i'm like OH SHIT!

It was a salesman and he proceeded to roll his window down and ask if we needed any help.

I was going to explain to him about Stick God but decided to just say, "No we're fine "and roll the window back up.

I don't think my face has ever been more red.

From EmHart:

I went to the beach on Wednesday with my mum and sister. We had been there all day and eaten a rather large lunch and had several ice creams. Suddenly I was overcome with the urge to evacuate the old system, so I headed off across the beach to the loo's. Once there I took a look in all of the stalls. No paper. No paper in a single on. I peeked outside, could I see an attendant? No, no I could not. Could I make it back to my sister and mum for tissues? No, no it was becoming more urgent by the moment. Once I gotta go, I gotta go. So turtle head appearing I had to head into a stall and do my business. Ah crap, what now? Sad to say my friends, a rather lovely pair of duck egg blue panties, with little red cherries on them made the ultimate sacrifice. And I loved those knickers too. Thank goodness I was wearing shorts and not a skirt hey? 

From Lisa:

When I was about 8yo, I was in an arcade as I'm sure most 80's children were back in the day.

I had just put a token in to a game when suddenly, I felt the urge to pee. 

What to do?? Do I stop everything, lose that token I just spent and walk across the mall to the bathroom? 

Do I try to hold it and play my game?

Nah, none of those will do!

My 8yo brain just said 'screw it!' So I played my game while peeing all over myself. 

Now if that's not bad enough, I had the brilliant idea that swishing my foot around in the pee puddle would somehow hide the evidence.

So not only did I pee on myself.. on purpose, I was also essentially playing in it afterwards too.

Good times....

Right about now you should be having visions of doing it with little people in a public place, hopefully in a pool of your own pee pee.

Hot damn I love this Church.

Secret Sunday: Episode 2

Good Day, my little Humpty Dumpties.

If you have wandered here from ICLW - you have arrived in time for a virtual share fest of disgusting secrets.  By all means, read on (and join us next week!) but in the event you would like to kick off our friendship with something other than who I've shown my boobs to or my bloggy friends' brilliant solution to anal sex, I have made this tab over here just for you to point you in the direction of different posts.

I am approaching Day 2 of ICLW and I don't think I have gotten a related comment. Why, ICLW? I am delightful, damnit!

Enough.

It is a tad early this week as I am putting this together Saturday night (if you missed Silly Saturday - it is here.)  Nonetheless, line up for the confessional and pray for an impotent priest, it's Secret Sunday.

I'll start us off.

My husband let a family of five see my boobs.

We were married 6 years ago, this very Secret Sunday.  Two days after the wedding, we went on our honeymoon to beautiful Kauai, Hawaii.  We stayed at a lovely condo-like resort and did it every which way you can imagine (and on a beach in the rain, no less).

Weeks before we had bought a book about all the things to see on Kauai.  We rented a banana yellow jeep to navigate the island, and a few days into our trip we headed for one of the go-to places, Secret Beach.

To get to Secret Beach, you take some windy roads to a very small parking lot.  Obviously since it's being written about in books, it's not so secret...But to get there you have to hike a good 15-20 minutes downhill on a fairly unmarked path through a forest, and since you're unable to see the actual beach before you arrive there, you have to have faith it'll be worth the hike back up.  Considering this is a small island we're talking about and therefor surrounded in beaches, you have to be seriously jonesing for some privacy to commit.

When we arrived in the parking lot I was wearing just a sundress - not exactly hiking clothes and definitely not a swimsuit.  I did, however, have a change of clothes.  We also had a ton of towels in the car, and since we were so secluded, I just used them to improvise a changing room.  Our car was pulled up right against the forest - front bumper to woods.  I had just enough towels to cover the back and side windows, and figured the front window would be safe.  Bubba would stand guard outside to alert me to intruders.

Something to know about Bub:  he does not speak up.

A family of five - two parents, two teenage boys and a kid, came hiking up out of the forest.  Then for some G-dforsaken reason, instead of walking in the spacious enough parking lot behind me, they tripped through the awkward space in front of my car practically leaning on the hood.  Bub, apparently, just stood and watched unsure of what to say.

As they do this, I am topless.  We all freeze.  Time loses all meaning.  I have enough time to not only make eye contact with each of them, but to see fully into their souls.  If they had immediately met a sketch artist, they could have described all freckles and moles in their precise measurements and color.

Yes, folks, on my honeymoon five people aside from my husband saw me naked.  And he didn't even have the sense to charge.

And now, the delicious secrets of others:

From an Anonymouse:

When I was in high school, I had a Latin teacher that seemed to like putting hands on or arms around girls while walking around the class. No one ever seemed too concerned until one day I found out he had an affair with one of my friends. To this day everyone still wonders while I grunt every time his name is mentioned.

From an Anonymoose:

I had a friend in college who used to have a thing for masturbating with strange things.  She only told me about it because she had tried masturbating with an old fashioned coke bottle, and it didn't have it's cap on, so somehow from suction it got stuck.  I had to take her to the er so they could carefully break it/get it out.

From Kate at Infertile Firstmom:

When I was 14 and my dear sister (now my best friend) was 18, in a

moment of sheer angsty teenaged jealousy (I guess, I don't really

remember my motives), I threw a FULLY LOADED hotdog at her 2 minutes

before she was to leave the house for her Baccalaureate service.

For those not familiar with this particular milestone in the parochial

school system, the Baccalaureate is a religious service held on the

Sunday before high school commencement day... a pretty big day for

graduating seniors.

Oh, and (fancy new) white dresses are required for all the girls.

So yeah. It was messy. She still brings it up to this day.

From Erinvns:

I dressed my beagle as a dragon last Halloween and it was a Martha stewart costume and im not ashamed! She went trick or treating with my 2 year old nephew (also a dragon) and I thought she was cuter.

From an Anonysquirrel:

I learned about cervical mucus not because of TTC but because of the shot.  I was on it in my early twenties, and it was supposed to stop bleeding altogether but instead I just bled with no warning, whenever.  And when balls of mucus started coming out sometimes, I asked my doctor about it and she explained that it was cervical mucus.  So the first time I slept with a new guy, I was rolling over to get on top of him, and a GIANT bloody ball of cervical mucus came out and fell on his stomach.  Needless to say, he flipped out.  A few weeks later he stopped calling and I always wondered if it was because of CM.

From the Anal Hooker:

I am somewhat of an anal sex hooker. Purely for my husband of course. Allow me to explain. I hate anal sex, he loves it. I have since realized that I can barter rear-loving to get things I want. It started with a half hour foot massage as payment for any anal action and has since progressed to much bigger and better things. I’ve had him clean out our “junk room”, re-organise the garage, come to parties and family functions I know he will hate and much much more. I continue to whinge and carry on about how much I hate it because I know he will keep doing more stuff to get it. Sometimes if I want something really bad I will even think “I know how I can get this…….”

From EmHart:

The naughtiest place I ever had *whisper it* S. E. X. was in the props warehouse when I was at drama school. I was having a wild fling with my leading man, as you do, and we just snuck off there one day because we couldn't contain ourselves any longer. We had just rehearsed a particularly emotionally charged scene from 'Measure for Measure' and I think we were supposed to be going on to a jazz class or some other arty farty drivel. Sod that, we thought, and instead we went and made, to quote the bard, 'the beast with two backs' on a dusty old chaise long behind a collection of six foot lolly-pops and a fake fireplace, with a large donkey mask from 'the Dream' looking down on us. Man, drama school was fun. Do you ever wish you could go on holiday to a moment from your past? I would go there. I am still friends with him actually and he came to my wedding, so not all mad flings end in disaster. 

From lo:

I shave my face sometimes.

(I am a fuzzy person.)

Oh so many important lessons to be learned in the Church of Secrets.  Oh. So. Many.

If you are instantly regretting chickening out this week or you have stumbled across this for the first time, I have made a lovely little tab just for Secret Sunday.

Do we have a favorite?

Seeeecret Sunday

Happy Sunday, my Darling Sugar Muffins!

Did I tell you I have a group of friends that inexplicably call me sugar muffin?  Alas, this is not my secret.

Put on your Sunday's best and a crazily feathered church hat, it's Secret Sunday.

I will start us off.  Today, as we're all popping our secret cherry (Secret Cherry would be a great all girl band name, but I digress) I will happily take credit for my secret.  When I throw in something a little more awful, I may decide to blend in with the crowd.  Here goes.

I once vomited in a girl's hair out of anger.

What?  Yes.  Shit just got real.

For the record, I am not a vomiter.  Have maybe vomited 10 times in my life. In fact, my earliest and most vivid childhood memory was going down a plastic slide in my room, hitting my tummy on the floor, vomiting, and being so terrified because I didn't know what the hell it was. Didn't even vomit as a baby.

Twas 1998, at the Tibetan Freedom Concert in D.C.  It was glorious, minus all those people being struck by lightning (my one memory of our now departed Beastie Boy was him getting on stage and imploring everyone to get the fuck out) and the puke incident.

There were two stages in a ginormous stadium.  I was innocently standing towards the front of one of these stages at a moment where no one was playing, both stages were being set up, and I had lost track of who was to perform where.  There was a crowd, but everyone was pretty quiet and had a decent amount of personal space.  I was behind two very calm young ladies bedazzled with black clothing, an alarming number of holes in their faces and the air of desperation one can only associate with desperately trying to be cool.

In about 10 seconds, 3 things happened:

1.  Radiohead walked out & started playing "Karma Police".
2. Everyone started pushing.
3. The holey-faces lost all of their cool-airs and morphed into matching psychotic tweens in such a way that can only be described as "Bieberesque".

Me no likey getting pushed.  Suddenly everyone is so close that if someone 30 feet away from me sneezes, 400 people get shoved to the ground by the sheer force.  If I let out a gentle fart, I would knock down the person behind me.  I'm 5 foot 2 -  I instantly know I am in trouble, and am now sinking in a sea of people where I will inevitably drown.

Holey faced girls are now jumping up and down, flailing their arms about in a muppety fashion, like Jesus has just personally arrived in a Pentacostal Church.  Looking for an out, I see a security person on the sidelines 5 feet away who is motioning for me to get to him.  As I'm staring at him bugeyed and silently plea "help me!" one of the holey faced girls elbows me in my stomach.  Hard.

Mind you, never in my life have I really been able to vomit even when I'm nauseous.  If I tried to make myself throw up, I would probably fail.  But as G-d is my witness, in this one moment, I thought "I'm going to vomit on that chick".

I threw up in her hair.  Anger vomit.

I then grabbed her by the back of said hair, and as her knees began to buckle I put my foot on the back of her knee, and propelled myself using the hair-vomit-knee combo.  I flew into the arms of the security guard who quickly said "that was awesome" and then carried me out.

It has been 14 years since this happened and while I love Radiohead,  to this day every now and again "Karma Police" makes me nauseous.

And now the amazing made-me-die secrets of others:

From Rosy Red:
Who doesn't have a "got caught having sex" story to tell? Well, here's mine. I was having hot sexy-sex with my boyfriend in college late one night (in the living room) while we thought his roommate was out for the night. We were both naked, (and I note this because the older I get it seems the less clothes I take off. But you know, when I was a hot college chick, the clothes never stayed on.) Any-koot, I was on top when his roommate comes urgently out of his room for a drink. I had never seen my boyfriend move so fast. He flipped me over to cover me with his own bare naked arse, and we waited for his roommate to leave, trying to quiet our panting breaths. I couldn't see anything, but the next thing we both heard was him smack against the wall and react, "oh, that's a wall!" I think he figured out what was going on and didn't want to turn on the light. My embarrassment was lightened...a little.


From an Anonymoose:
I actually pit people against each other at work rather frequently and then sit back and watch the train wreck in front of me.  I love watching the fights that ensue!  I don't make anything up, but I use the knowledge that I have to cause problems.  Maybe it is because otherwise work is pretty boring so I need some entertainment??  Maybe I am a drama queen at heart??  I just can't help myself, though! 


From The Porcupine:
When I was 6 years old, I did a big poo in a potty. Then I stuck all sorts of Barbie doll accessories in it, like tennis racquets, golf clubs, shoes etc. It looked like a porcupine.


From EmHart (who is now a personal hero):
I used to be a life model, for about three years at various places, and I absolutely loved doing it and I would love to get back into it again.


From B:
I love picking my nose because I feel like I'm saving the environment by not wasting tissues.  But I ALWAYS wash my hands after and always do it in the privacy of my home!  I never touch anything without washing them!!   Although one time I did wipe one on someone's back who made me really mad when they weren't looking but I felt really guilty after.


From an Anonymouse:
I do not enjoy anal sex because whenever it comes out it makes me feel like I'm taking a poo.




AMAZING.


I am making this a weekly thing. This is my new Church. Therefor, if you do not become a member I will show up at your door when you least expect it, perky and carrying pamphlets. Drink the koolaid.


When you think of something to share, send me an email and I will add it the following Sunday.


Purge yourself, much like a short girl at an overcrowded concert.