A sex blogger? Me? Me, a sex blogger? I didn’t think I actually talked about sex enough to call myself that, but, Molly did and, it’s with great humility, that I tell you that I was not only included in her Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2015, but I was number 18! That’s like in the top 20, folks.
I was figuratively blown away by this.
Before I go into all that blowing, let me give you a few links to tell you about the list and the person, Molly, who put this together. To be completely honest, I had never read her prior to this week, but that is something I am absolutely changing as, well, she’s good. As you will see within the link about the background of the list and the work she did HERE, this was an incredible amount of work and all of us listed owe she and her husband a great deal of thanks for the inclusion, but also for the names of 99 other blogs that we SHOULD be looking at as well. Speaking of those 99, the list itself is HERE. In addition, to Mrs. Fever who nominated me, consider this a big, wet, sloppy thank you kiss. You know, the kind that is best done virtually.
So, back to the list and how I discovered that I was a sex blogger.
It happened Wednesday morning about 8:58am Eastern time just as I was walking in to start a three hour presentation to some really big (as in title, not size) people. Now, I was a tad tense because, well, I AM always just a tad tense, but since I had pissed myself the day before I was particularly on edge. However, as I was walking in I received a text from Ferns, my amazing stunningly beautiful Australian girlfriend, that was addressed to both myself and Thumper telling us both that we had “made the list” but also that “we were under her, just where we belonged”. Now, even I would not argue with that logic and I assume Thumper whimpered a little bit wherever he was when he read it, but how fucking cool was that? It was cool enough, I tell you, to absolutely and completely distract me from my presentation and to apparently put my mind into a deviant spot because, within the next two hours, I would use the wrong words and/or phrases within my presentation TWICE that would leave me laughing in my head like a 13 year old and leave everyone else either “amused” or figuring out how not to renew my contract for a year’s worth of these fun sessions.
Actually the phrasing was not awful, but just enough that, well, you know. Specifically, this session was very “motivational themed” (not something I typically do) and I was trying to get this group of stoic people a bitter happier. So, out of context this doesn’t mean much, but these people all run programs, departments, or other areas within a giant system so, in an effort to try to get them excited, spin a bit of competition within the room, and to drive SOME enthusiasm, I stand up and my very first question was “hey folks, who here has the most impressive unit?”. I heard it right as it escaped my mouth and so did everyone else (also in full disclosure, I did enjoy the fact that about five people all looked at the one African American man in the room just waiting for him to either raise his hand or whip it out. It was sadly stereotypical, but kinda funny) I immediately started backtracking with words like “department” but it was too late and they all looked at me like I was an idiot. In my head I was asking myself whether or not I had become a sex talker too, since I was apparently a sex blogger. I enjoyed that until about 40 minutes later when we were talking about their staffing and how employees have “goals and dreams” and that through their behavior they were “raining on those dreams, leaving their staff with nothing but”, you know what’s coming here, “wet dreams”. Fucking hell. Fucking mother fucking hell. I had just crossed a line. In my defense that is a line in one of my favorite Modern Family episodes, but that does not give me the right to start talking like a sex talker in front of this group, especially because this group are likely the most prestigious collection of titles I had ever spoken in front of (and likely might be my last one). Bloody hell. I wanted to crawl into the corner or throw it to my boss again, who had conveniently gone to pee during all of this, but I couldn’t so, get this, I just pretended like I didn’t say it. Despite the screaming in my head of my own voice and that of Fern’s saying something like “Ba ha haaaaaaaaaaa” I just keep right on talking pretending to be as culturally unaware as those men who wear dark socks with sandals while wearing shorts. Luckily, though I saw a few eye contact inside friendship giggles, NOBODY said a word, though I know they all laughed later.
I have no idea how all of that even mattered to be, a new award winner in the Top 100 blogs of 2015, but, I am important now so I guess I can stop worrying about such trivial things.
Finally, another thank you to Molly. It is indeed an honor to be included.