Feb 172010

(This post first appeared over at Edencafe.com)

First let me explain my take on the “typical” brain of feminine vs masculine. I do realize that just by saying that I’ve already ruffled some feathers. The saying “Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus” DOE S have its valid points.

I’m equally a logical and emotional person. It’s hell, lemme tell ya. I need to totally *understand* something, I need to know why. Why, why, why. I’m like a 2 year old. I cannot just do something “because”. If I at least know why I’m doing it and what comes next then I’m much better able to do my part. But I also act and react very emotionally, I’m very much an empath. Anyways, back to the logic. I have fibromyalgia which is a very misunderstood disease (but they do know that brain chemicals are either affected or a partial cause and I believe that the main chemicals affected are serotonin and dopamine) and I have a dopamine deficiency. ADD, ADHD, whatever label you want to put on it. When you run down the symptoms, I’m a textbook case. But I have other oddities that make me hard to diagnose. So in the course of trying to figure out what is wrong with me, I’ve done a lot of research. Learning what others like me are like. Forming my own theories that may or may not be a grand revelation to the science community at large.

Even if you don’t have a “mental disorder”, I believe that everyone’s brain hormones/chemicals are not all at perfectly balanced middle-of-the-road levels. Everyone has a skew, and that forms your personality. It’s when the skew is too severe that one is then diagnosed with depression, anxiety, bi-polar, ADD, etc. So my outlook is kinda like…..a horoscope. I am most compatible with other people that have a similar chemical skew/imbalance. If their dopamine is lower, I’ll get along with them. ( I hope this explanation makes sense to you all, lol).

They already know that biological men and women use their brains differently. But that’s what they can see and measure. What they haven’t been able to measure yet are the levels of the brain hormones. So I’m not saying here that my thoughts on the chemical differences pertain to *biological* male/female roles, obviously, but the self-identifying masculine/feminine roles. The typical feminine brain skews a little lower on serotonin. The typical masculine brain skews a little lower on dopamine. Disclaimer: I’m not saying that this is fact, I am saying that in all my logical thoughts, this has to be true. One big reasoning is that many of my little ADD-quirks/issues/problems….to some degree are all complaints that wives generally have about their husbands. Like I’m more likely to forget birthdays and anniversaries. I lose track of time. That whole domestic drive to  clean the house and run errands when you’d really rather sit on yer butt? Yeah I don’t have that and you’ll find me sitting on my ass till there’s no clean undies and we’re outta milk. When a female asks me if I notice anything different, I’m going to be staring blankly at her just like most men would.

I hope I didn’t lose you – this topic of brain chemistry and why I, without fail, get along the best with people with similar chemistry levels as my own is all seriously fascinating to me. Even if the knowledge doesn’t do me any good with treatment I still like understanding it all as best as possible.

Anyways. Contradictions, contrasts, puzzle pieces.

I’m the girl in full makeup who’s fixing your computer and babbling in geek-speak.

I’m the girl wearing perfume who’s hanging with the guys, playing MMORPG games and being just as competitive as them.

I’m the girl in the group of people who will admonish the man with a “Don’t be such a pig!” to his pervy comment all the while silently agreeing and staring at that chicks ass right along with him.

I’m the girl in sexy clothes and kitten heels who would be happily tagging along to a car show, admiring the details and work on big, loud muscle car or a sleek, expensive sports car.

In my mind I objectify women as I ogle them but I don’t let on outloud, for that’s not proper. I know it’s not right but it happens anyway. I’m terrible at being domestic even when it has to be done. I didn’t inherit the gene that makes my mind think “We’re having company! I better dust!” like my mother and her mother before her. I drive too fast, I swear too much and I don’t remember your birth date. I could spend just as much money at Sephora as I could at Newegg.com. I am competitive beyond compare and fuck you if you beat me.

And when I read about other bisexual or bi-curious women talking about how softly they would kiss a woman, how the sex would be sensual and spiritual and *cue sound of abrupt record-scratching to signify a halt* – I think “why??” I want to kiss and be kissed like I would kiss a man. Kissing men, kissing women, it’s not a different activity for me it’s kissing a person and I like it passionate. Not feathery kitten kisses. I want to have hot, sweaty, kinda-rough passionate sex with a woman just as I would with a man.

But yet I want to be swept off of my feet in romance. I want the grand gestures. I want the Dom type of guy sometimes, to a degree. I have my days of wanting to be pampered and beautiful and wanted and loved. You don’t have to hold the door for me unless my hands are full, but I’d appreciate it if you compliment how I look, even though I may blush and dip my head.

I am a contradiction in flesh and blood and sometimes I just don’t know which way to go.

Feb 092010

There are two sides to me. The Lilly you see online and the L that most others see in reality (and how I feel in reality). Sometimes there is a bleeding of the edges betwixt the two worlds and I am gaining comfort in that happening more. This isn’t to say that Lilly is a contrived persona. In fact, not at all. Lilly is what L truly is under the surface. Lilly is the no-holds-barred version of L. There are most definitely pixels shared between the two. A Venn diagram, if you will. The better I know someone and the more comfortable I am with them, the more Lilly and L meld together as almost one.

I don’t mind people staring at Lilly because it’s all virtual and I can control it. But in the stark lights of reality, L feels scrutinized. L says “Don’t look at me”. Lilly says “Oh hey, its naked time? Wait for me!”.

I think that the Lilly you see on Twitter is really more of a meld than most other places. Granted, a lot of L isn’t shared there but it’s much more of an equality of the two. Would L have the cohones to say to a just-introduced guy “Well HELL-o cute boy!!”? Nope. And will Lilly let her Eeyore side out online? As little as fucking possible, thank you. I think the matter at hand is this: how much more Lilly does L need to absorb into her public persona? For I know damn well she could stand more than she’s got.

Ya know why?

Because L needs a goddamn date, that’s why. L needs to move onwards and upwards and find a guy or girl who’s somewhere in between side dish and main course.

And Lilly is way more date-able. No, not because she’s got a bit of teh slut, but because she’s confident and happy-but-snarky (usually, unless she’s pissed off because SOME men think her every sentence must be met with “witty” innuendo-laden replies). But I have news for ya boys: L/Lilly doesn’t fuck on the first date anymore. Sorry, day late and fifty dollars short.

When I posted on my blog a few months ago about my flaws, it was the first time that readers really saw more of L. And I was scared to put that out there! Sometimes I feel like this anonymous blogging / dual-personality shit is fraudulent. I mean, it’s not –  not one bit of Lilly the personality/person is a lie. But I know that L isn’t very shiny and sparkly a lot of the time anymore and that can be a bit of a bummer. I’ve met a few people offline that knew me as Lilly for awhile and I do believe they ended up disappointed with L. I can’t say as I blame them either. Lilly is who I would be all the time if I were surrounded by friends/family/co-workers just like those of you that I know online; Lilly is who I would be without my neurosis.

So what is this? A crisis of identity? Multiple personalities disorder? Split brain? Split pea soup? One thing I do know is that I’m learning about myself in ways that I didn’t expect when I started the blog. I am more self-aware than ever before. Some days it’s a painful awareness but most days it’s a good thing. I can’t tell you the number of times I want to open my mouth and say “Holy shit! I just did XYZ!!!” and it of course related to this blog or e[lust] – and I have to clam up. For the first time I have money now to do a few things, because of my sites. Can I tell anybody? Nope. Can I tell anybody how rockin’ my site design was? Nope. None of my family even knows that I have gone to NYC *at all*, and I’ve gone 3 times since starting this blog. It was very hard for me in the weeks leading up to my November NYC trip to spend time with bloggy friends and attend the NYC Sex Bloggers Calendar Party to have to constantly lie about exactly why I was going to NYC (to the few people I told). I tested the waters once, and when someone asked me what all I was going to do there I listed off a few things and one of them was “see a Burlesque show”.



“……what’s ‘burlesque’???”

I tried a few vanilla, simple explanations and when the look of confusion just expounded with each word out of my mouth I finally gave up.

“Nevermind. I’m going to see a show and it’s nowhere near Broadway.”

And that, my friends, was the last time Lilly opened her mouth in L’s world.

Jan 112010

It seems as though most of my readers respond better to a tiny, provocative 3-line post with a half-nekkid photo, than my rambling words lately. It seems like I can’t make a move to speaking my mind more because of the comment count I get on those posts vs the comment count on the erotica and photo posts. Perhaps I’ll just post little else than brainless smut and sexy photos here and post the intelligent discourse posts on other blogs. Maybe. But sometimes, like today, you’re just gonna have to deal with it because this is something I feel strongly about. If you don’t like this kind of stuff from me, then you can safely stop reading now.

Britni posted a few weeks ago about V Magazine’s “size” issue which she posted a whole bunch of preview photos from. Plus size models that look amazing…..

…..Amazingly perfect. And while they are a step in a right direction, moving away from all models being a size 0, they still don’t do much for “fat acceptance”. I look at these models and try to remember that they’re models and so they have to be proportioned “just so” but they are not realistic representations. They are the Perfect Fat, the most Acceptable Fat that the general public can handle. The rolls are at a minimum, their tummies are relatively flat, their butts are still that idyllic heart shape, etc. When I look at the advertisements and posters for Lane Bryant, I don’t feel like my size is acceptable because these models, to me, are barely plus-sized. I wrote about how tough it is to shop for plus-size clothes over at EdenCafe but I want to include that post here and expound on it a little.

I wear a size 20. Depending on the brand and the style of the article of clothing, I might even wear a 22. What’s funny is that I wear a larger numerical size than I did a few years ago, but I am not actually any bigger. I have a few sweaters that are Lane Bryant from only 4 years ago, and they are a size 14/16. They fit me the same as current size 20 or 22. And no, they’re not stretched out. Way to make me feel like shit, designers. At the age of 32 (and I’m usually told I don’t look a day over 25) I am not yet ready to dress like my grandmother.

But the brick-and-mortar stores at my disposal think otherwise. Why? Why do clothes designers assume that if you’re plus-sized you’re 1. over 5′9″ and 2. over the age of 45 or “matronly and modest”. Some department store plus-size sections will carry the occasional fashion-forward pieces that are age-appropriate for me, but it’s like finding a needle in a haystack. Combine that with them also offering styles that most plus-size women should not wear and an abundance of matronly/modest articles, and it’s no wonder I hate shopping.

I have read various uncredited sources that claim as much as 50% of the American female adult population wears a size above 14 (16 and up is considered “plus”). If it’s even just 40% then pray tell WHY are the plus-sized sections so damn small?? Old Navy won’t even carry those sizes in the store. Macy’s, Sears, Bon-Ton, JC Penneys, Target, Wal-mart, Kohl’s etc have a plus size section that equals only 10% of the “regular” sized women’s clothing. Plus sized clothing gets maybe 20 brands on average, while the other section has a hundred or more. They will convert only a tiny percentage of the regular sized clothes into plus-size. I can’t tell you how many times I walk by a cute/sexy top at Kohl’s with a wistful sigh, wishing it came in my size.

So we’re relegated to shopping online. Women on average have a much harder time with clothes fitting than men, jut because we’re all shaped differently even at the same dress size. But plus-size women have even more issues with clothes fitting at our size and being flattering. If the item is shown on a model, usually that model is barely a size 14 and has toned upper arms and a mostly flat belly with an otherwise “proportionate” body. Um, hello, I don’t look like that! How the hell am I supposed to know what it *might* look like on me? So now we’re forced to shop online where we can’t try on things first, we have to guess. We have to subject ourselves to the measuring tape if we want a better shot at the clothes fitting, but that’s not even a gaurantee.

I recently found this outfit at Hips and Curves, a lingerie site for big girls – and of course, their models are the Perfect Fat and so even though its a site for “my size” I still look at this outfit and feel like I need to slim down a few sizes to have a chance at looking as good as the model does in it. I would love to be able to wear this for the next NYC Sex Blogger Calendar Party. The Parisian skirt and the corset, with maybe a their wide-neckline sheer body suit under the corset for some arm coverage given that the party IS in November. But seriously, I feel too round and chunky for their clothes, even though I am their target shopper.

In a time when brick-and-mortar stores are pulling out all the stops to bring in and keep customers, you would think they would try to appease a larger cross-section of their customers. My local Target leaves only a paltry (and shameful) -6- racks for the plus-size section. Maternity gets more racks!! I can assure you there’s less business from Maternity women than plus-size. I’m not asking for equal shares, I know better. But if all these department stores committed to doubling (or tripling in the case of stores like Target) the plus-size section I can gaurantee you they would see a huge return on that.

I’ve run into very few online stores that show their clothes on a model that might look more like me – and these are places that have a little less polish, a little less high glamour professionalism to  them. The more mainstream the store is, the more of a Perfect Fat there is.

Britni directed me to a site I’d not heard of before, called Fatshionista. It’s a blog, it’s an information source, an inspiration source and a guidance in navigating the online shopping world. They offer a section where members can review the online stores. On the LiveJournal community pages there is a huge list of any online store that carries some plus-size clothing or is completely dedicated to plus-size. Many of the more popular ones I’ve already been to but there were many I didn’t know about. While this won’t make future shopping *easier* it will at least give us more options.

EDIT: The lovely Britni passed on some more links so I’m highlighting all those and all the other links in this post:

  • If you need inspiration on outfits, check out the Fatshionista Flickr Pool
  • A great “fat positive”  blog, The F Word
  • Fat Fu blog where you can subscribe to the Notes from the Fat’o’sphere section, a list of a whole bunch of fat acceptance/fat positive blogs.
  • Fatshionista is the main site, the Review section offers up reader-reviews on all the online stores that sell plus size clothing, and the LiveJournal community page also has a big list of places to shop as well as other sites to read for inspiration and education.

Jan 082010

So with my new, bionic arm I apparently took my pain-free status for granted, and over-used it. “Hey! I can pick up 2 containers of milk with one hand!” sort of over-use. Starting yesterday my whole arm started bothering me. Ache and pain and nerve pain and muscle fatigue…by the time I got home from work I was miserable. So instead of hockey, he laid with me in bed. Massaging my arm and gladly offering up something for me to squeeze – I don’t know what it is about this sort of pain/irritation/tension but when I stretch the muscle it’s like scratching an itch. So stretching, pulling, and gripping a squeezie ball are all lovely things. Instead of a squeezie ball though…..I used his cock (don’t worry, due to the on-going elbow problems my grip with that hand is pretty weak). Poor guy, he got so teased ;)

When he has muscle soreness and bad pain, sometimes we end up focusing “treatment” on his cock. An extended foreplay session does many things for him – redirects blood flow from the irritated muscles; overwhelms his brain with pleasure signals; increases his dopamine**. Even though I wasn’t really aroused, I agreed to let him try that trick on me. He brought out the Hitachi and after we determined that I hated the way it felt on my arm, it traveled south for his original idea.

Soon though it became clear to me that the Hitachi wasn’t going to get me off.

I know.


Not even with the added stimulation of a cock against my g-spot.

So I had him use one of my newest toys, the Eroscillator. It took some direction to adjust his style – unlike the Hitachi, the Eroscillator can’t be used to apply pressure. The more pressure, the less it oscillates. And while I was indeed enjoying the sensation, and feeling close at some points, it wasn’t working out. He, however, was enjoying my eye-rolling bed-writhing desperation.

He had me on my back and him in the somewhat-sitting up position, leaned back so that I could get the vibrator to my clit. At first I thought he didn’t understand what I meant, because he wasn’t sitting up straight enough to give me enough room to manipulate and position the Eroscillator. We couldn’t achieve that perfect angle of penetration in which he hits my g-spot so wonderfully but where I can also have a vibe on my clit…so, we gave up yet again. He was so stimulated that he couldn’t stand much more and so the Eroscillator was tossed aside as he pounded my cunt, working for his orgasm.

My turn again! Attempt 3 had me reaching for my Climax Twist vibrator, and I instructed him to grab another one of my new toys, the Nobessence Seduction dildo. The Climax provided that gorgeous, low rumbly vibrations and wasn’t overkill. The Seduction massaged my g-spot so perfectly. As I begged “faster” “harder” “more!” I felt my orgasm come on, a mere minute or two after we began with this combination. A thunderous orgasm overtook me as he kept up with the dildo and I with the Climax for the first big wave.

Oh sweet jesus that was good. If I hear one more “scientific study” saying the g-spot doesn’t exist, I’ll do very bad things. I know damn well I have a g-spot and I know how to use it. That combination of stimulation – that blended orgasm – it’s something so intense that my recovery reaction is a bit……


I laugh.

Not just a giggle for half a minute….

Picture a combination of the scene in Willy Wonky and the Chocolate Factory (the old one) when Grandpa and Charlie are floating and laughing, and the scene in Mary Poppins when they’re all floating and laughing (“I Love to Laugh!). That was me. Tears running down my face, laughing like I couldn’t stop…big and loud and infectious. For like… 10 minutes. I don’t understand it; it’s not a common reaction. Except I wasn’t physically floating. Woulda been cool though!

In between my laughing fits he asked me how my arm felt. My response was a dopey “What arm? I have an arm?” In the end though something in the whole of the evening helped because I no longer felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin from the anxiety of the muscle tension and pain, and it did indeed hurt a little less. Hey! I found a new physical therapy routine!

Oh, the cruel evil twist?

As he was in that sitting-up position and I’m thinking to myself “why isn’t this working like it does in porn??” he was also thinking the same thing. He couldn’t “sit up” and get far enough back for the necessary space while also allowing for vigorous fucking. And that day we realized….that is “porn sex” and not to be attempted by 30-something amateurs. Poor thing is limping around today with a groin pull/ache that hurts somethin awful. At first he was embarrassed to admit that, until I reminded him that it’s something to be proud of.

But I don’t think we’ll be using medicinal sex for it!! Poor guy needs to rest up.

*Definition of Panacea

**Besides the sheer pleasure you get from having an orgasm, the body takes it a step further by enhancing the endorphins and other hormones that elevate the mood. The chemical Oxytocin is a natural opiate that is released during sex and becomes quite copious during an orgasm. It is a powerful pain reliever and is compared to morphine. It breaks down like this: more sex – less pain.Woohoo!

Jan 012010

I’m stealing this from Hubman who stole it from NY Diva


1. What did you do that you’d never done before?

A few exhibitionist/voyeuristic things that have been written about; saw a burlesque show; had a “street” hot dog in NYC

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

If I made any, I don’t recall. I probably made a few and didn’t keep them. I’ll make another one or two.

3. What would you like to have in 2010 that you lacked in 2009?

More sex. A reliable car. A job I like.

4. What dates from 2009 will remain etched upon your memory?

August 23rd; April 1st; November 6th

5. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Ha! Oh boy did I ever.

6. What was the best thing you bought?

Our laptop

7. Where did most of your money go?

Bills/rent/living expenses

8. What did you get really, really excited about?

A few plans that got canceled; My trip to NYC; you’d think I would say “my wedding” but I’m not ;)

9. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? A little jaded; more realistic
b) thinner or fatter? Probably a little fatter
c) richer or poorer? A smidge richer, but only because I’m bringing in a little money from my site and commissions

10. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Be more social (in many ways); live in the realm of reality

11. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Eat; pine; live in the world of fantasy

12. How will you be spending new years?

I spent it as we have for the last number of years – not doing much and barely acknowledging the stroke of midnight

13. Did you fall in love in 2009?

14. How many one-night stands?

Wouldn’t you like to know ;) The number is somewhere between 0 and 3

15. What was your favorite TV program?

I’ve had a couple – Fringe; House; Pushing Daises (gone now); and a few more that are escaping me.

16. What was the best book you read?

I read a lot, it’s hard to narrow it down. “Certain Girls” by Jennifer Weiner, probably

17. What did you want and get?

A laptop

18. What did you want and not get?

R; a vacation longer than 24 hours

19. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I was 32. I think I went out to eat with hub.

20. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2009?

Smart-dressy-casual that’s femme and sexy. Trying to be more fashion-conscious and feminine.

21. What kept you sane?

My hub, my bff

22. What political issue stirred you the most?

Not going there

23. Who was the best new person you met?

I met a lot of wonderful people in NYC that I hope to see again

24. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2009:

Stay more grounded in reality and pay attention to everything.

I am starting this year off on a better foot. My tennis elbow pain is nearly gone; the cortisone shot worked for now. I’m scheduling for an epidural inter-vertebra cortisone shot. I spent the day purging. Out with the old, in with the new. Bought new “everyday” panties and got rid of the sorry ones. Bought a slew of new socks to replace ones that were dead or dying or lost their mates. Purchased all new bed pillows and throwing out the old ones (ick! the things I read about pillows!!). This weekend we’re doing a major clean up, give away, re-organize to the apartment. I can’t stand to live like this any more! We made good headway today, better than I expected, and the endeavor continues this weekend.

Nov 302009

Well, I made it through the holiday and weekend without killing somebody or getting disowned. Barely. Dinner with the in-laws actually wasn’t *quite* as bad as I expected, perhaps because this time they were forced to talk to us without my mother there. I nearly said a few inappropriate things but managed to catch it in time. The food was better than previous years thanks to my subtle and sometimes-secret intervention. You see, his dad doesn’t use salt, butter, etc on most standard things…no seasonings. It is my firm opinion that mashed potatoes need salt, butter, milk. I think he just mashed them up with the starchy potato water. But I covertly threw in about 1/4 cup of kosher salt into the boiling water, so they weren’t completely awful. I also snuck salt & pepper into the gravy while I helped stir. Due to me buying him one of those digital probe thermometers that are endorsed by Alton Brown, the turkey turned out beautifully – shockingly, he listened to me about time and temp. Of course, he still kept obsessively wondering if the goddamn “button” had popped yet despite me telling him it wouldn’t pop, it didn’t pop last year, its meant to pop up at higher temps than we want.

Dinner with my family on Saturday ended up being a nightmare. My mom was in a shit ton of back pain and sick from it. No matter what I did or said it was nearly impossible to get her to just let me handle it so she could lay down. When the extended family showed up to help, it became this chaotic nightmare. Between having 7 adult women and 2 teenage girls in the kitchen and having 3 younger kids literally running and screaming through the house, my nerves were fried before we sat down to eat. In fact, I couldn’t even sit at the table at first, I wanted to just run away. I felt claustrophobic, and just wanted to be alone. Had to take a valium to get through it. Saturday cemented the fact that I’m not ready for kids, and when I am, I am adopting a girl. The boys…..I don’t know why I’m surprised, they’ve been hell-spawn since the age of 3 but holy mother of pearl I told them to stop running, stop jumping, stop the pillow fight, 45 times if I said it once and it all made me want to stab my cousins for not discplining their kids better (or at all).

Apparently being off of most of my psychiatric drugs is really messing with me in bizarre ways. I was on one ADD stimulant and 2 antidepressants (which are a stimulant in their own way) (wellbutrin and a new one for fibromyalgia pain). They took me off the Wellbutrin because the one day I was in to see the psych my blood pressure was elevated. He then said that I didn’t NEED to be on two anti-depressants and so he took me off the Wellbutrin….forgetting that the other one is slightly different and given to me for my fibromyalgia, forgetting that the Wellbutrin affects dopamine whereas the other one does not. I’m always too overwhelmed when I’m at the doc and so I didn’t think of my comeback till later: “The reason I came to see YOU was to work out if it was alright for me to be adding that fibro med onto my current psych meds and you said it was fine. Now it’s not??”.  And then my pill-taking schedule got all out of whack (breaks in routine do that – the NY trip was a big break in routine and then I was out of the ADD med for a week and then the med change) and I have consistently forgotten the ADD med now for 2 weeks. The other one I mostly remember at night, mostly forget during the day. But somehow being off the stimulants has made me manic.

When I was first put on all three at the same time, I now realise, was when the writer’s block first kicked in. I’m able to do a little bit more now, but I’m still having problems. However I’m not in the fog that I was in back then. I’m such a puzzle, and I need a better doctor to figure me out. I’ve been on so many meds, so many diagnosis and nothing yet appeases Psychiatric Goldilocks….nothing is just right. It seems that the more stimulants I am on, the more asleep I am. Which can make some sense….its why they give ADHD patients (some of whom are already notoriously hyper) a stimulant to calm them and their brain down. In some ways I kinda like this manic phase. Sure, my ability to focus and shit is way off kilter but I’m liking the nervous energy. Of course not when it results in the “Lilly wants to cower in the corner and cry” just from being in a loud chaotic mass of family members.

WOW. That was a fucking rambling scrambled mess, wasn’t it…..

This is why I haven’t yet written much these last two weeks since the manic has kicked in….sure the beginnings of ideas and ability are there but I can’t make it proper and pretty and…..readable lol. Um so yeah….sorry….but Rage asked for it!