Tag: Pokemon Go


My internet’s been down for the last few days, leaving me disconnected and irritated but also, kind of  liberated. I’ve spoken to my children and to friends, walked the dogs, read a few books and hey, it hasn’t been all bad.

I’ve had a break from social media, haven’t played Pokemon Go, I’ve ignored my blog and all your blogs, and have actually been super responsible.

I kept my last little bit of data in case of a crisis – like a madman trying to murder me, in case I needed an ambulance, or for something really hectic, like calling Mister Delivery to bring me dinner.

It’s been good. Easy.

Until he messaged me.

Violet, I miss you.

And you know, sorry about the ambulance or Mister Delivery.

I just had to use my hotspot.

Because goddammit, Cybersex is so much fun and so addictive and it makes you feel so good, even if for those brief five minutes.




(Three heys, waste of data, I know)

Take off your clothes. Pretend I’m there.  With you. Stroking you.  My hand between your legs.  Rubbing your clit, like that, do it, pinch your nipples, yes, oh god, stand in front of the mirror, there, bend over,  i’m going in you, deep, hard, god like that, naked, send me a photograph, jesus you look amazing, bend over, look in the mirror, I’m in you, fuck yes, yes, my cock,  feel it, hard, thick, my cock, your cunt, dammit, jesus I can see, feel how wet, oh god, god, I’m, I want to come, yes, oh god, jesus, now, wait, yes, yes..

And that was it. A whole lot of spelling errors.

And all  my data. Gone.

But at least I used it responsibly.

And had fun.

But now I’m starving, the fridge is empty and I can’t call Mr Delivery.

Oh well.

I’ll just have to take off my clothes.

On my own.


And pray I don’t need an ambulance.




All the mothers I know are huddled over cups of coffee anxiously discussing Pokemon. Their kids are obsessed, they haven’t slept for days, criminals are going to trace and kill them, they just don’t know how to cure this latest dark and dangerous obsession.

I’m trying to be supportive. Except I’m sitting at coffee too and I know that Pikachu is down the road and I only need to escape from this suburban hellhole and walk 200 meters and I’ll find him, aisle thirteen in the supermarket.

Near the tomato sauce.

I’m holding off though. Maybe because I had my fill of Pokemon as a young mom, maybe because I don’t care who gets to the tomato sauce first, maybe because Pokemon is not my only obsession.

I’ve had obsessions.  Often.

They take up a lot of time.

They’re not very  healthy.

It takes a lot of hard work to get over them.

But relax dear mother friends of mine.  They do end, they, what was I saying, oh my god that’s Pikachu, it’s really him, hang on, pay for my coffee I gotta get him, hang on, hang on…

Yeah.  They do end.

Without killing us.