Ramona's Brave Bottom
You know how there are songs that just make you feel good? I mean really good, because of the beat, or lyrics or whatever, but mainly because of the feelings associated with them? Yeah. So, I love the All-American Rejects.
Every time I hear anything by them I smile. And it is a wistful type of smile because not only does their music rock, but Tyson Ritter reminds me of my best friend. No, let me rephrase that........my best friend, K could be Tyson's doppleganger. Same hair. Same eyes. Same attitude. Same smile.
I have been lucky in the friendship category. I have some really good friends. I love them all. Dearly. But K? He is something different. He is.....more.
In the beginning, we were both just part of a larger crowd that hung around together after school. I knew K only as one of the random guys that hung out in the group. The group would hang out at various skate parks or fast food places most afternoons, and as evening approached, kids would start going home for dinner or whatever.
It seemed that K and I would end up being the only ones left a lot of the time. We figured out pretty quickly that both of us had parents who just weren't......well, my dad spent most of his time trying not to be around me, and it didn't take me long to figure out that K spent most of his time trying really hard not to be around his dad. Anyway, we had a lot of freedom, so we spent a lot of time together, and soon we were inseparable.
K is one of those true, honestly genuine opposite sex friends. This is the guy that I clicked with from the moment we spent that first one on one evening together. I don't know if we clicked the way we did because we both needed each other so much at the time, or if it was something else, but we really clicked. And he is my best friend to this day, playing an important part in all aspects of my life....even the spanking one.
K is the guy who sits up late at night with me playing video games, burning music CD's or simply hanging out when I am suffering from insomnia. This is the guy who let me dye his hair blonde last night just because I was really bored, it was really late, I was really drunk, and I thought he would be gorgeous as a blonde -it is awful....this pineapple sort of color and I think he has truly entertained the idea of killing me.
*By the way Professor, K thinks I should be spanked long and hard for what is now officially known as "The Naughty Hair Incident" but I explained to him that since there is no higher rule or established "naughty hair behavior" line , he is out of luck.
This is the guy who spoon fed me black raspberry ice cream while watching Easy Rider after I got my tonsils out. The guy who found me at a club and brought me home after a "friend" put E in my drink without my knowledge. The guy who taught me how to snowboard, taught me how to drive and taught me how to do a proper tequila shot.
This is the guy who gave me the nickname Ramona. Ramona the Brave, or Quimby, after the Beverly Cleary character and he actually lived to tell the tale. Imagine that!
He still calls me Ramona, btw, and although I would never admit it to him or anyone else, I kind of like it. Funny thing is, if you have read the books and you know me well, you would find yourself hard pressed to find a better nickname.
K is the guy who encouraged me to go talk to "Study Boy": "That guy sitting over there studying all by himself? Oh for god's sake Ramona, just do it for fuck's sake! Just talk to the guy! Unless of course you are afraid Study Boy might bite....."
And he is the same guy who sat on my bedroom floor and helped me get ready for my first date with "Study Boy"....my future husband. This is the guy who was in my wedding. He is the one who stood outside the delivery room with my husband when I was rushed in for an emergency c-section after my son's heart stopped beating. The guy who is my son's godfather.
He has watched out for me, comforted me, laughed with me, and gotten in some serious trouble with me. As a fourteen year old kid he even tried to play surrogate father to me when things were falling apart at home. He has been my conscience and my partner in crime.
And I have watched out for him.....went with him to shop for gifts for various girlfriends, helped him survive Geometry, was his biggest fan at his baseball games..... spent countless late nights trying to answer his questions about the female perspective. And I was always there to let him in on the nights I would find him standing on my back porch with a new set of bruises or welts.
In high school there were five of us that would hang out on the weekends, skating during the day and then drinking Heinekin and listening to music at night. We would sit on our friend C's roof and smoke cigarettes, getting drunk and talking about seriously starting a band.
We called ourselves the "Muse Abusers" because although we all dabbled with various instruments, we sucked! There were many nights where we would end up drunk in the living room, making up lyrics and plucking away on guitars trying to come up with at least one complete song.
As I write this, I can distinctly picture the scene in my mind: The five of us sprawled out on various pieces of furniture and K is talking, telling a story or making some joke, always the center of attention..... and every once in a while, in the middle of it all, he will look over at me with a crooked, shit eating grin and say, "Right, Mona?".
So what does K have to do with The Adventures of Spanko Girl besides the All-American Rejects song I have playing on my blog at the moment? Well, he is my only vanilla friend who not only knows about my kink but actually reads my blog. Reads it consistently! He knows me. He knows all of me.
And he is the one who made that lovely strap. The one in the pictures.....the one Professor and I used during our last session. My vanilla best friend made that strap for me. :)
I had ordered a rawhide leather belt off Amazon during my implement purchasing frenzy along with everything else and when it arrived, I didn't think much of it because it was just a belt and Professor already had one. I think it was more of an impulse buy than anything else.
When it became pretty apparent that the razor strop I ordered wasn't going to arrive in time for the upcoming Professor/naughtyone spankfest, K took matters into his own hands and asked if he could have the rawhide belt for a while. "Sure, why not," I said, and gave it to him, curious as to what he was going to do with it. The next day when I got up, I found the new strap he had made laid out on the kitchen table with a note that said, "For Ramona's brave bottom".
I love the All-American Rejects, I really do. They make me smile.
Every time I hear anything by them I smile. And it is a wistful type of smile because not only does their music rock, but Tyson Ritter reminds me of my best friend. No, let me rephrase that........my best friend, K could be Tyson's doppleganger. Same hair. Same eyes. Same attitude. Same smile.
I have been lucky in the friendship category. I have some really good friends. I love them all. Dearly. But K? He is something different. He is.....more.
In the beginning, we were both just part of a larger crowd that hung around together after school. I knew K only as one of the random guys that hung out in the group. The group would hang out at various skate parks or fast food places most afternoons, and as evening approached, kids would start going home for dinner or whatever.
It seemed that K and I would end up being the only ones left a lot of the time. We figured out pretty quickly that both of us had parents who just weren't......well, my dad spent most of his time trying not to be around me, and it didn't take me long to figure out that K spent most of his time trying really hard not to be around his dad. Anyway, we had a lot of freedom, so we spent a lot of time together, and soon we were inseparable.
K is one of those true, honestly genuine opposite sex friends. This is the guy that I clicked with from the moment we spent that first one on one evening together. I don't know if we clicked the way we did because we both needed each other so much at the time, or if it was something else, but we really clicked. And he is my best friend to this day, playing an important part in all aspects of my life....even the spanking one.
K is the guy who sits up late at night with me playing video games, burning music CD's or simply hanging out when I am suffering from insomnia. This is the guy who let me dye his hair blonde last night just because I was really bored, it was really late, I was really drunk, and I thought he would be gorgeous as a blonde -it is awful....this pineapple sort of color and I think he has truly entertained the idea of killing me.
*By the way Professor, K thinks I should be spanked long and hard for what is now officially known as "The Naughty Hair Incident" but I explained to him that since there is no higher rule or established "naughty hair behavior" line , he is out of luck.
This is the guy who spoon fed me black raspberry ice cream while watching Easy Rider after I got my tonsils out. The guy who found me at a club and brought me home after a "friend" put E in my drink without my knowledge. The guy who taught me how to snowboard, taught me how to drive and taught me how to do a proper tequila shot.
This is the guy who gave me the nickname Ramona. Ramona the Brave, or Quimby, after the Beverly Cleary character and he actually lived to tell the tale. Imagine that!
He still calls me Ramona, btw, and although I would never admit it to him or anyone else, I kind of like it. Funny thing is, if you have read the books and you know me well, you would find yourself hard pressed to find a better nickname.
K is the guy who encouraged me to go talk to "Study Boy": "That guy sitting over there studying all by himself? Oh for god's sake Ramona, just do it for fuck's sake! Just talk to the guy! Unless of course you are afraid Study Boy might bite....."
And he is the same guy who sat on my bedroom floor and helped me get ready for my first date with "Study Boy"....my future husband. This is the guy who was in my wedding. He is the one who stood outside the delivery room with my husband when I was rushed in for an emergency c-section after my son's heart stopped beating. The guy who is my son's godfather.
He has watched out for me, comforted me, laughed with me, and gotten in some serious trouble with me. As a fourteen year old kid he even tried to play surrogate father to me when things were falling apart at home. He has been my conscience and my partner in crime.
And I have watched out for him.....went with him to shop for gifts for various girlfriends, helped him survive Geometry, was his biggest fan at his baseball games..... spent countless late nights trying to answer his questions about the female perspective. And I was always there to let him in on the nights I would find him standing on my back porch with a new set of bruises or welts.
In high school there were five of us that would hang out on the weekends, skating during the day and then drinking Heinekin and listening to music at night. We would sit on our friend C's roof and smoke cigarettes, getting drunk and talking about seriously starting a band.
We called ourselves the "Muse Abusers" because although we all dabbled with various instruments, we sucked! There were many nights where we would end up drunk in the living room, making up lyrics and plucking away on guitars trying to come up with at least one complete song.
As I write this, I can distinctly picture the scene in my mind: The five of us sprawled out on various pieces of furniture and K is talking, telling a story or making some joke, always the center of attention..... and every once in a while, in the middle of it all, he will look over at me with a crooked, shit eating grin and say, "Right, Mona?".
So what does K have to do with The Adventures of Spanko Girl besides the All-American Rejects song I have playing on my blog at the moment? Well, he is my only vanilla friend who not only knows about my kink but actually reads my blog. Reads it consistently! He knows me. He knows all of me.
And he is the one who made that lovely strap. The one in the pictures.....the one Professor and I used during our last session. My vanilla best friend made that strap for me. :)
I had ordered a rawhide leather belt off Amazon during my implement purchasing frenzy along with everything else and when it arrived, I didn't think much of it because it was just a belt and Professor already had one. I think it was more of an impulse buy than anything else.
When it became pretty apparent that the razor strop I ordered wasn't going to arrive in time for the upcoming Professor/naughtyone spankfest, K took matters into his own hands and asked if he could have the rawhide belt for a while. "Sure, why not," I said, and gave it to him, curious as to what he was going to do with it. The next day when I got up, I found the new strap he had made laid out on the kitchen table with a note that said, "For Ramona's brave bottom".
I love the All-American Rejects, I really do. They make me smile.