The thing about writing a sex blog (or any type of blog, really) it’s hard to imagine it biting you in the ass. You get kept swept up in the grand notion of a sex blog (TMI Tuesday! Half-Naked Thursday! Hurray!) and it’s hard to come down to earth enough to think of the legitimate consequences (like someone you gave the link to telling one of your formerly close high school friends).
The worst part though is that I can’t even get properly mad about it because every time I do, I’m reminded that it was my fault. I put all of my intimate details on the Internet for the world to see: I get what’s coming to me if people find out. Thing is, I totally disagree with that. Obviously by putting stuff on the Internet I’ve put myself at risk. If somebody I knew from the real world had found The Magpie Returns through some fluke of blog-rolls and Google searches (I know your browser history, you perves) that would be one thing. It’s another to have the rug completely pulled out from under you, and suddenly know that you have no idea who else knows the intimate details of your life.
Anyway, I guess the whole point of this is to ask that people don’t get too carried away. Honestly, I could care less about who knows about who I’ve fucked and who I’ve fallen for, but a lot of what I’ve written concerns other people – people that you probably know (and just for the record, no, none of you know Mr. Ego, he’s a Halifax person). So just be careful, and try to protect the other people. It’s not their fault that I’m an exhibitionist narcissist with a love of writing.
Love, kisses and blowjobs,
The Magpie
