Cats & Bondage

Not that I ever used it much, but I deleted my Tumblr earlier this evening. They have every right to manage the content on their service, but I don’t have to agree with ridiculous, arbitrary, sexist, and parochial standards.

Jack won ‘best husband’ award this afternoon appearing at my office door with flowers and then taking me out to lunch. A naughty glass of wine and pulled pork sub was exactly what my lunchtime needed and seeing him always brightens the day. He’s still using the cane but he’s moving much better than he was last week. You can definitely tell he’s feeling better – he’s bored sitting around at home all day!

Pasta is currently simmering away and I’ve got no plans for this evening. There’s a cat trying to get my attention, batting at my hands as I type.

Speaking of cats, I read this article the other day that claims – and I wish I was joking – that owning a cat contributes to people being aroused by sadomasochism because they’ve contracted toxoplasmosis, which is ‘linked to sexual arousal by fear, violence and danger in humans’. Yes, that’s right, we’re kinky because we have a brain parasite caused by cat faeces.

Please excuse me while I have a moment of hysterical laughter. There was me thinking I got into BDSM because my husband (ok, he wasn’t my husband at the time but nevertheless) asked me to spank him, because he knew it turned him on – something he’d known since his teens. Turned out it was something I really enjoyed – although I’ve always owned cats. And he’d never owned one until we moved in together.

Repeat after me – correlation is not causation.
Although, in the interest of fairness, I haven’t clicked through to read the actual study in the Journal of Evolutionary Psychology, only the article that refers to it.

But, of course, there has to be something wrong with us to enjoy kinky sex. (And I wish I had an eye-rolling smiley gif to put here!)