ok, many of you know the story of my Smurfs blanket, but if you don't I'll summarize.


The first time I ever had an orgasm was when I was dry humping my Smurfs Blanket. I remember it to this day. I was horny the entire week. I would get spontaneous erections in school, after school, and at night before bed. I was hard all the time.
So one night, I just dry humped my Smurfs Blanket trying to relieve the pressure of my throbbing penis. And it happened. I spooged on it.



But this is not a story about that. This is about what the Smurf's blanket represented to me, and how I viewed my mother because of it, and still do.


My mother is out of touch, bless her heart. She is literally, and I mean this, insane. She lives in a world where old classic movies still rule, and where the lives of old Actors and Actresses, most of them already dead, can still be readily discussed as if the long ago past events in their lives just appeared on the tabloids.
She likes Bob Hope, she loves America, and my god does she ever love the cuteness in things. Flowers, animals, little children--all so cute to her that they make her laugh like she's insane. Cause she IS insane, trust me on this.


Anyways, She bought me the Smurfs blanket when I was 11 years old. I loved the Smurfs when I was 8 or 9 but outgrew them and Saturday morning cartoons by then. So I would constantly take the blanket off my bed, and place it in my closet, and take out the plain brown blanket that I also owned and make my bed with that.

But everyday after school, I would get home and that goddamned Smurfs Blanket would be there. I would tell her that I hated it, and that I was too old to have my bed fixed everyday with a Smurfs blanket. But she would hear none of it. It was "warm" and it was easy to fix on the bed. And besides, it was "cute".

That winter, she had also cut all of my sisters hair off and butchered it to look almost identical to a school boys haircut, parted on one side. My sister begged and pleaded her not to, but she did it saying that when she was younger, they cut their hair short and it was comfortable that way, and looked "cute".
It looked positively awful. Till this day, my sister said that it hurt her terribly to 1) look like that and 2) that her cries were so easily discarded by my Mom.

Life is hell to a child growing up with Parents who view the world in their own way. When they think a certain aesthetic is what is normal, and force that on their children. But it was made more hellish that my mother's aesthetic tastes were so off center. So bizaar. So....cruel in ways.

My mom has softened with old age. Sweet, and gentle most of the time. Never arguing with my sis and I, and accepting our foul mouthed ways as just "part of who were are". But the world she lives in is still a world of some odd , delusional fantasy. George Bush is a good man, Mexicans are responsible for crime, and Phllipinos can not be trusted , in her eyes.



I guess I'll stop here and not ramble on anymore. I'm not sure why I even bothered to share this to tell you the truth. Some demons in me still lurk. Some child still cries.



I guess I'd like to think I grudge fucked the shit out of that Smurfs Blanket.

My mother, bless her heart, really tried to get me things she thought I would like but it's either 2-3 years behind or it's some god awful version of something I maybe like a bit. For example, last chrristmas she gave me a bunch of bizarre magnets of kittens wearing hats in quite bright, obnoxious colors. I mean, I like cats and all things kitty, but my decorating style really doesn't involve cats who wear hats.

The coffee hasnt even kicked in yet...

Muse2NOPharaoh said:

YOU AND CHRIS NEED TO STEP OFF!!




At least Carrie understands

I had a paddington bear duvet cover, if that helps comfort you any..

Imago said:

Man, I must need coffee too. Help me, Muse!

Imago said:

quit breathing on my neck, space invader

Show off

I can never look at Smurfs the same way since you mentioned that blanket last year.



However, I totally empathise with you regarding the madness of parents, just typing this is making my eye twitch.

oh that kinda relates to something that I regret now. When I ws little we used to go as a family to A & W drive in and we all used to get the family of burgers, the Mama burger, Papa Burger and the baby burger because the icon was a bear. Anyway after many years the local A and W closed and we stopped going. One day when I was 15 or so my dad had gone someplace out of town and he came home with some A &W and he got the burgers you know all of them and gave me the baby burger which was just a burger with 2 pickles and some mustard. I was like that's all you got me? in my snotty 15 year old voice, the look of hurt in his eyes was something I will never forget, he said but you always liked baby burgers as he bit into his double cheese burger so to appease him I ate it, but after that he never brought me any thing home when he stopped off. He still saw me as the baby and I needed the baby burger didn't get it then later though I did and we talked about it. I still feel bad though for hurting his feelings when he tried to do something to please me.

Dude, this story is real and disturbing at the same time. A least your parents didn't burn you with lit cigarettes or beat you to deal with the bad day at work.

It's not that disturbing except for "I guess I'd like to think I grudge fucked the shit out of that Smurfs Blanket."

A few questions;

Did you leave it dirty on your bed or throw it in the laundry when you were done?

Did the molestation of said Smurf blanket have more than one episode or was this isolated?

So did you keep this crusty motherfucker or is this just some kind of faceless therapy going on here?

butterfli25 said:

CarrieMpls said:

Ok on the count of three we all leave this thread and never come back!

One ... two ... pop!

butterfli25 said:

that's awful.




My mom would never have been smart enough to have her feelings hurt. If we didn't like something and told her, she thought we were just not right. That we just needed to see the light.

Did you moan first time you came?

Spookymuffin said:

I couldn't. I didn't want my parents hearing what I was doing.


It was a silent thing. But definitely a feeling I will never forget. It totally blew my mind. I was hooked on dry humping for weeks before I figured out I could just do it with my hand.

butterfli25 said:

I hate moments like that.

Imago said:

I just wish I could express to you how filthy I feel for knowing this about you. And it won't go away. There will always be new threads about it.

Imago said:

I was the same. A silent orgasm. Mainly because I didn't realise what I was doing. I was watching shitty European softcore porn because it was taboo. Next thing I know I needed to rub one out, so I did (not knowing what I was doing). Then, all of a sudden, my body went "HELLO SAILOR WELCOME TO THE PARTY" and I was left lying there shocked and bemused but feeling so, so good.

I spent the next 3 or 4 days punishing the bishop every 3 or 4 hours.

My eyes hurt from reading that, fuckin smurf humper.

INSATIABLE said:

This thread is not about my Smurfs Blanket being my spooge bitch, but about the other aspects of having owned it.

Anxiety said:

Imago said:

There aren't many things that stick out from childhood where I was really bothered. If my dad was ever odd about anything, I adopted his oddity. He was always a demi-God to me and everything he did, I worshipped. Not much has changed--I've got my own life now, but he still can rarely do any wrong in my eyes. It's some sort of single-dad hero worship.

Even when he bought me a strange toy or something, I still found a way to learn how to appreciate it, because I was always worried about making sure I showed gratitude so he would be happy. I always felt guilty after my mom left and I didn't want him to leave too.

Imago said:

jess555ja said:

INSATIABLE said:

I know right?




But seriously, what?!?!?!

jess555ja said:

Imago popped his self-help cherry on Papa Smurf's beard.

Spookymuffin said: