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Womens Fantasy - Robots and Androids

Women all have fantasies, a woman that doesn't have fantasies isn't alive.

I myself have a number of fantasies involving robots and androids. I've yet to meet another woman that had my particular fantasies in such things, but I know they are out there. I am in love with Honda's Asimo, it doesn't matter that he's on the shorter side. He's got personality and that makes up for his stature.

I'd love him to have attachments like the hitachi magic wand, despite the fact a friend of mine said she would be afraid her skin would get caught in his joints. Hey that would just add to the spice of the adventure, right?

I'd love to hear that robotic voice in a mechanical crescendo of gear grinding pleasure. And yes I did say that. Believe me I've thought about it a lot. I have often wondered if anatomically correct, Data would vocally short out or emit high pitched sounds. Like he did when his positronic net was overloaded before he entered that village in the episode Thine Own Self.

As you can tell, I also want Data from Star Trek: Next Generation. Yes he has an interesting complexion, he's very logical to the point of being annoying but that is one of the many reasons I love him. I love him to the point of having erotic dreams about him that involve him being anatomically correct, emotion chipped and devoted to only me.

Sure his laughter is forced and semi mechanical, he has bouts of bipolar disorder and issues with understanding why I want repeated orgasms. But these are all things I love about my dream Data.

A male friend once told me he had a fantasy of being "dominated by a metal skinned vixen", of course that makes one wonder if that means getting bitten on the ass by a robotic fox but I'll take it to mean a robotic woman. Yet another friend of mine, inspired by so much grunge tech art once said she wanted to be raped by a robotic angel, all gears exposed.

Albeit she was drunk at the time but upon asking her later she admitted it was true as well as her wanting to get banged by Seven of Nine. She may not remember anything else in the star treks but she remembers her. It figures really, she is pretty dang attractive with those borg implants and tight suits. But I digress on that.

A good female friend has a little fish fetish, we're not getting into that exactly but that tells you why she once told me after seeing the robotic fish that she wanted to "wrap her legs around it and go to town" ...

I still don't comprehend exactly what, how or why of that but it only shows there are bizarre things that get pulled into our lovely world of sexual fantasies about our machines. I don't even know why I added it exactly, other than it's rather amusing when you think about it.

I had a simple conversation with a friend of mine, the other day. It went along these lines:

Me "Ever had any fantasies about robots?"

Friend "Nope!"

Me "Would you ever take a Ben Barnes android?"

Friend "Absolutely."

Me "A perfect, anatomically correct Ben Barnes, with his accent and those eyes?"

Friend "Warm, soft, smelling of Jean Paul Gaultier Cologne... Yes.."

At one point we also had a conversations about devious uses of the holodeck, but that is for another time.

The point is, to some degree we all have these little fantasies. We may want one of those Ben Barnes robots that will love, adore and dote on us and they will always look beautiful. We may want Commander Data in all his android logical glory. Perhaps we may even want Asimo with his adorable little user friendly body and his interesting personality.

The point is androids, robots even down to vibrating phones, there have been so many fantasies throughout time. And now in this tech age a growing number of women dream of a loving machine that will entertain them and give great orgasms. A coin operated boy if you will.

I think I need to give Honda that idea. Hey at 25 cents a ride I'd keep a bag of quarters by my bed. More interactive than a violet wand and less troublesome that a real boyfriend.

But at least for now we have our hitachi magic wands and bedroom bunny's and posters of Patrick Stewart we can press against. That cold wall making us feel a little closer to the possibility of androids, those vibrations sending us off on metal unicorn fantasies and Apoptygma Berzerk plays on the laptop.

Thank you Tech age, thank you.

Womens Reality - Motherhood

When I have children I'd love them all to be perfect little girls, flowing hair, perfect skin. My daughters would come out of my womb with red hair, manners and advanced knowledge in Calculus.

They'd be flower children, daisies in their hair, glasses on their nose. Spouting debates between themselves of Relativity and Quantum Reality while rehabilitating a puma cub. They'd go dancing with possums and have college level knowledge in animal biology.

They would be the most caring and understanding children, donate Christmas and Birthday money to Feed the Children and ASPCA OR WWF. They would be able to raise an army of genetically engineered hyper-intelligent ferrets... Only for the benefit of the world of course.

But in reality and most likely my horror, they will come out black haired, bushy-browed and their hyper-ness rivals the energizer bunny. They'd grow up thinking ninjas were better than pirates and decide to try out cannibalism when I don't allow them access to candy. Or even worse.. I could have little boys.

Women grow up playing with a variety of subtle things that start preparing them for motherhood. Baby dolls, little kitchens, Little Tikes Cozy Coupe with two younger kids screaming and yelling as they hold onto the back.

But none of this really prepares them for the task of raising a small human being that depends, grows and learns from you. That you must raise with care and understanding. It is a hard but rewarding job, or at least it should be. There has always been the debate of Nature vs. Nurture. Both plays a large role, but in the end it is the Nature of what the person is.

Mothers have a dream when they have children, they have wonderful plans for them. This does not have to be a grand, wealthy future, instead it can be as simple as wanting their children to grow up caring and loving. Of course it would be an added bonus if the kid grew up into being the next Bill Gates, minus the nerdiness, no matter how oddly attractive that is.

Mothers don't expect their children to grow up, go to prison, become a politician (any mother that does needs therapy), or marry a person that rivals the age of their parents. When giving insight into relationships and marriage a mother does not see their children marrying then forsaking the rest of the family, because that husband or wife now must be IT.

The ONLY thing in their lives, perhaps the kids they spawn as well, but that seems about it. What about the credit that is due the mother, for birthing then raising them to the best of their ability? I think seeing their grandchildren more than once every 10 years is in order, not being thought of as something to be leeched off of, emotionally manipulated then blamed for any problems that occur within the grown child's life.

A friend of mine (Georgia) did not leave home until she was 24, stepped right into a bad relationship and blamed her mother for not preparing her better. I know the mother (Lydia), perhaps it was her fault for not marrying 5 times over, or parading a numerous amount of 'uncles' for her children.

That would been a nice example, at least know what not to do. Lydia tried to instill in her daughter the understanding that she doesn't have to be in a bad relationship, she deserved better, but after a point, a mothers choices stop and the daughters choices start.

Georgia cut off all contact with her mother for 5 years. She has two children from two fathers and says she would not have made her mistakes if her mother had been supportive of her relationship with Leonard. Her multiple felony, meth addicted 50 year old 'first' boyfriend.

Yeah Georgia, I'd be real supportive of that myself, that's exactly what a mother wants for you when she holds you for the first time and sees those big eyes, a helpless little baby completely dependant on mommy for love and protection.

I'd think "Yes, for you my lovely baby, I have in mind a man that will have multiple felony convictions, a serious drug addiction and a hair trigger temper. I'll bless that relationship because I want the absolute best for you, pay no mind that he's threatened to kill you or members of your family unless you cook that damn pot of potatoes, because really, that's the absolute best!"

Now to be fair, I once left home and went straight into a bad relationship, it was against my mothers wishes but I insisted. I did not, however, blame her in the least for the bad choices I made.

Thankfully I was very fortunate to get my head out of my bottom, once done I was welcomed back home with open arms. I know that not everyone has a good parent, some people have mothers called Crack whore Cindy or Shootin' up Stephanie. Some people just have bad parents, neglectful parents, cold parents. And then there are a lot of people that have pretty damn good mothers.

Kids don't come with manuals, sure there are a lot of books that tell you how they think you should raise your kids. But that doesn't mean its right for this particular child, this situation.

There are no real guides, steps, understanding. A mother learns with her child and grows with her child. I was blessed to have a good mother, she raised me with love, care and understanding. Many other parents would not have handled me as well as she did, considering she had two other, older children to take care of as well.

So to those people that have bad mothers, Okay! get away from them, live your lives, stop blaming them for everything. You're an adult, act like it. Many people try to blame other things for their own problems.

But there is a point when it all just falls on you. If you're living at home with your parents, stop bitching about them. They are putting up with your ass, when most likely you should be old enough to get your butt out and be living on your own without leeching off them. Think, you could be an aborted baby, with all your bitching I bet mom sometimes thinks that it might have been easier.

When you're griping about the 'living conditions' while using up the hot water, the electricity, the internet. Mom might be thinking "God I would have had such a happy life if I had just gotten that back alley abortion like my aunt said I should." But she didn't and she should be given an award for it.

To those that have good mothers, be thankful for them. They have spent so many years of their lives without a thought of all the time they could have spent on something else. Mothers are the heart of the world, they deserve more than children that want to stick them into a third rate nursing home as soon as its convenient.

Good mothers deserve children that will cherish them, thank them for their good childhoods instead of abandoning their mother as soon as they leave the home, blaming them for any bump in life's road that might occur.

Mothers to be, understand that motherhood is a long, hard road. But no matter how your children end up, that the pains and trials are worth it, even if your children decide to join a clan of nudist clowns that rob banks and over pack themselves in an old VW Bug. Or they simply become members of the Mormon church, which could be even worse than nudist clowns.

Raise them good, raise them well and understand that eventually once they are grown, the pains in their lives are their own.No matter how much it bothers you that they are dating a skin head named Adolf that has so many piercings in his face that he can smoke a cigar through his cheek.

When they marry a worthless gambler that has never done anything and will most likely put your child in debt, or they deny you access to your grandchildren because they want to make no effort in acknowledging they have family besides husband and child. Sometimes one has to realize that sometimes Nature wins of Nurture, no matter how much you try.

But never stop trying. Because sometimes Nurture wins out and you raise a child that will take care of you when you are bed ridden, they will walk to the store if you need it. They will make you the best darn stick figure version of yourself when they are 22 years old and proudly give it to you for mothers day. They will give you all the tomatoes from their salad because you love tomatoes (and they hate them).

They will lovingly inconvenience you with a multitude of drawings and cats, and cat hair covered scarfs, lovingly knitted, with plenty of human hair unknowingly knitted in as well. They will understand when you forget a word, a phrase or your own name and gently remind you that you're "Mom" and even make you a sweater with "Mummy" stamped on so everyone else knows it as well. And as they proceed to write a novel entitled "The Tragic Death of Agnes Lee" they will dedicate it to you as they give dramatic readings of broken hearts and lost loves, rumpled spirits and shattered worlds.

Because you Mom, gave them the ability to be themselves, grow and be creative in whatever way possible. And you are to be thanked and cherished for what a wonderful job you have done.

And as Forrest Gump says: "Well that's all I have to say about that."

And I bet you thought I was going to mention getting shot in the buttocks didn't you?

Quote:" For anything worth having one must pay the price; and the price is always work, patience, love, self-sacrifice - no paper currency, no promises to pay, but the gold of real service." JOHN BURROUGHS (1837–1921)

Womens Reality - Proposals

Personally I'd adore seeing a man riding up my short driveway on a large black war stallion. The mans hair would be long and dark, flowing in the breeze of a servant carried fan to make sure his lovely tresses flowed behind him like the tentacles of a frightened octopus. The man would wear a kilt, preferably in Black Watch tartan, a white billowing shirt and kilt hose. Behind him would be a fleet of bagpipe players, tuning "You are my sunshine" whilst kittens slept happily in the horses mane like daisies in a field. The man would dismount and pull a Scottish fold kitten from his sporran, tied around its neck a white gold claddagh ring with emerald and ruby.
With grand flourish he would kneel upon the green spring grasses and offer up the kitten and ring while speaking German, asking for my hand in marriage as his garter flashes swish in the breeze. And for this occasion I would be clad in an embroidered green gown, flowing in the offset of my loves servant held fan. White daisies would adorn my waving red locks, complexion perfect, brows neatly plucked. I would be peaches and cream and song birds would flutter and bunnies would romp behind me as I would reply 'yes' to him in traditional old Gaelic.

In reality if ever proposed to, it would be in someones basement, on a pull out couch and a musty smell filling the nostrils. He would be in an old stained tshirt, with some odd ancestry such as Finnish-Mongolian. He'd sport a Minnesotan accent, no ring or kittens or war stallion but instead a drawing of his fursona and hopeful look. No ring, but a promise that when he gets out of his grandmothers basement he WILL go to the pawn shop and find me the best darn drug money ring EVER. And I will be clad in four year old tattered jeans, a frumpy but loved tshirt and my red hair slicked back in a double bun. No daisies, no makeup and most likely sporting a unibrow. It would be mid summer, I would be tomato red from the heat and would only answer yes so that I could lay down to stop the disappointed migraine that was forming.

Somethings wrong in Denmark and its not their ban on transfats.
It is nature for women to want a fairy tale proposal, wedding, life. Men want it as well, perhaps without the sparkling rainbows and glittery, skipping bunny rabbits.
With women the reality of proposals fall very short most times of the real thing, in reality you may have a bad cold, you may be just getting over the death of a beloved pet. You could perhaps even be covered in mud and have been sprayed by a random skunk while rabid raccoons burst from your pants. Or as simple as having curlers in your hair and you don't remember a thing he said while proposing because, darn it, you had curlers in your hair. You don't always get what you want, but you have those fantasies to comfort you, and disappoint you when things fall short of your expectations.

We want our knight in shining armor, our prince that will climb the tallest tower or fight the biggest dragons (which could be our father, brother, sister, best friend, who knows) for you. We want that 8 level ogre cleric to take a step away from that dungeon and bring out the biggest ring from the loot and offer it up with a grand flourish to you, as his party watches. We want anatomically correct, emotion chipped Data to take us to the holodeck for a wonderful sight of the dry lands of Vulcan, while discussing the better output of the warpcore. He would propose, adding unneeded, silly and badly done jokes and poetry. Later there would be an on-ship Betazoid-styled wedding, Spot being the bridesmaid.
(And perhaps there would be the ability for a polygamic marriage to add Picard and perhaps Worf as well... It is dreaming after all.)

Deep down despite how adult we are, there is a bit of little girl that dreams of these things, no matter how busy our lives are or how much of a realist we seem to be. There it is, somewhere in the back of our heads, and sometimes old Disney inspired. This need to be treated and loved the best of any woman in past or present. So dream on girls, dream on. Don't let the harsh reality of a musty smelling basement and promises of a ring after your boys probation is over stop you. Coat it with sugarplums and dancing ferrets, pretend the blinking light of his house arrest anklet is that of some love star, dedicated to you and twinkling in the sky. That really, this crack smoking Greek named Uresto with the tattoos of prison gangs across his chest, is actually Ben Barnes, sporting a sword and an endless supply of money for your love. Because almost always, Fantasy is better than reality.


(Ed: I personally think that fantasy should always be a reality. Its not fair that women have to settle for so much less than ideal. Darn you reality!)