Jan 072010
 

hot fat girl revolution

I mentioned recently some advice on What Not to Say to Sex Bloggers when you email them.

So it’s only fair that I show you that not only do I get my share of nice, complimentary emails – I also get ones that bring me to happy tears. Seriously.

Here is part of his email I received today:

I want to thank you.

See, I remember when I first read your post regarding the Hot Fat Girl Revolution. I found it brave and (humorous as it sounds) even heroic. While I’m certainly not a woman, I couldn’t help but agree with each and every bullet point. The other day, I decided to show your post to my best friend of many years. She is that rare mixture of beauty, seductiveness, and allure the likes of which one only gets to observe once in a lifetime (and if you’re lucky, at that!). Despite this, she is what society deems “overweight,” and she cannot help but see herself flawed.

I don’t know exactly why I decided to share your post with her. Maybe it’s because she was feeling particularly downhearted that night, or maybe it’s because you remind me of her in some ways. Regardless…As she read your post, I saw a gleam enter her eyes and a confidence flash into her smile that I haven’t witnessed in a very long time.

So thank you, Lilly. Thank you for your courage, and for making another sensual, charming woman feel just that. Your inspiration and example is a truly fantastic thing.

This absolutely warms my heart, I love this email.

But I’m no hero….I’m not without my flaws and my faults and my moments of weakness as I stand in front of the dressing room mirror. A day spent shopping is my Kryptonite, it will reduce me to a curled up ball of despair, sobbing on my husband’s lap. That’s a bad day. A good day is today – when I know that one more person read those words and felt a little more powerful, a little more beautiful. A good day is today, when I can look in the mirror and like what I see.

However, models and shopping and clothes…that’s a topic for another day. Monday, perhaps.

Jan 052010
 

I wouldn’t say that I get a lot of reader emails. Perhaps 2-3 most weeks, sometimes more –  sometimes less.

Some are sweet and don’t expect anything in return, they just wanted to compliment in private.

Some are a little cheesy and make me roll my eyes, but I smile nonetheless.

Some give me a glimpse of a person that I could enjoy chatting with – and some do lead to that.

Some are from greedy lil bastards asking for more photos.

Some mean well but missed the mark a little – one that comes to mind bore the subject line of  “Guess who found your blog!” and I swear to you my heart stopped for a moment. He was referring to himself and all in all it was a really nice and sweet email but that subject line….to an anonymous blogger…..whew!

Some try to jump right into cybering and sexy chat. Some ask me what bra size I wear. To those types I have one thing to relay: Have a little respect. Yes, I blog about sex. Yes, I post half-naked photos. And I do indeed have “those” sorts of conversations with other people – people that are not strangers, people that I clicked with. I get these kinds of emails a lot especially from guys on the message boards that I (used to) post on. In general it just rubs me the wrong way when “hello” is barely out of the gate (sometimes not even!) before the schmooze and slippery talkin comes to the table. YOU might be in the mood and horny as hell but consider what the chances might be that I am as well, at the same time as you are, and equally interested in virtually sating that horniness……your chances are pretty close to nil. I might be a sex blogger but I’m still a regular person – not a sexual automaton here to turn it on when you put in your quarter. Try a little intelligent conversation first – smart, eloquent, funny men get my attention right away. (Such as this one, which I had to share because it made me a little weak in the knees: “Your prose sparkles, and as a professional writer, I admire that; after all, there’s nothing sexier than a wicked mind.  Most blogs I’ve chanced across are the text equivalent of porn — all harsh fluorescent glare and workmanlike efficiency; yours is soft light on naked skin, the heady bliss of that first stolen kiss… and the difference, as they say, is ALL the difference.” THAT is the type of mind/man that can make panties drop with words alone.)

Some are…..I don’t know what their intentions were. But it immediately offended me. For example I got an email from someone who was just starting to browse sex blogs and proceeds to tell me all about these other 3 (that I’d actually not heard of) and how great they were but that mine was….well, I’ll let him tell you: “And your thing seems interesting too. But unless I am missing something, it’s kind of just a…”I am getting married and got a lab kind of blog, no?”” I was quite baffled. Think what you want of my blog, I don’t require that everybody likes it, but is it necessary to go that route? In the end it turned out that he somehow had assumed that my side blog (which is now private) was the “sex blog”…..despite all other evidence to the contrary. Or at least thats what he finally claimed after I lit into him.


In short – my tits are big. I know this. You like my pictures? Awesome, I’m flattered, but I won’t be privately adding to your spank-bank stash. You get what you get here, and thats all there is. Now, if you’ve seen an erotic (not pornographic) artistic photo that you think I could emulate for a future HNT, that’s a different suggestion altogether. Did my prose make you horny? Cool, it’s nice sometimes to know I’m not the only one – but I suggest reading more of my blog or reading more of my friends’ blogs to help you finish because I most likely won’t. At least not for free and I’d bet I’m out of your price range :P

But if you want advice? Want to have an intelligent conversation? I’m your girl. If it’s just a few words you can say it right over there in the sidebar, in that IM widget. And if you worry you’ll say the wrong thing – let me assure you, your concern already puts you ahead of the unsavory ones.


Oh and always, always….spell my damn name right. It’s Lilly….not Lily.